Between Blogs

Dear Cathy,

I said I'd write this a long time ago, and I suppose that nowish is vaguely apropriate considering the extent to which we've both been bemoaning our lack of blog productivity lately. Well, you've been bemoaning, I've been... um, I'm fairly sure I have also been bemoaning, I've just been doing it a little more offline than you. To be honest, I have so many other slightly more serious things that are completely falling apart in my life that the blog really is rather far down on the list of things to bemoan.

But what to write and say? I'm currently sitting in my most favourite of social hotspots, the 24 hour computer room. I got back to Cardiff yesterday and moved into my new house. It's a nice place, a bit further from the centre of town and not nearly as big as the last, but at least this one has a living room. No curtains as of yet, but I've hitched up a combination of blanket and cushions to the window which keeps the room at the level of gloom to which I am accustomed. I managed to break the bed in the process of unpacking, completely buckled the frame. This is the first bed I've ever broken and I didn't even get to have hot sex in the process. Very disappointing.

In any case, I don't have internet set up yet. It's on my top priority to-do list, along with, ahem, getting the bed fixed and finding some therapy. Literally. My mum made me promise to get myself some help, so it's off to the couch and guided meditation with me again. If entries suddenly re-grind to a halt maybe it'll be because they've finally come to their senses and locked me up somewhere with bright lights and helpful restraining bands. Maybe they'll stick me on some heavy medication instead and I can keep blogging, long artistic entries full of star-spangled butterflies.

The bells chime midnight, and I wanted to get this done before then. I miss you, it surprises me over and over how I can still miss so many people I haven't seen for so long. You need to start blogging regularly again. I remember when you first set me up blogging and I first started reading blogs regularly. It was new, then, hardly seeing you, but the feeling that you hadn't gone very far at all completely bowled me over. I heard as much from you by way of your blog and email as I always had seeing you every day, especially as writing lends itself to larger chunks of speech. I know you always had to listen to me babble on for God knows how long, but it was strange and refreshing to hear you talk at length on something. Between me and G. I'm surprised anybody ever got a word in edgeways, let alone found a chance for a class to stay on topic.

Thank you for introducing me to this world, you've got a lot to answer for, as you well know. So. Get your arse back here, there's no way I'm letting you strand me all alone in this fearsome blogos... I did not just use that word. You hate that word. I hate that word. I did not just use that word. It's all your fault I know the word and have even heard of blogging in any case. The Blame. Is. All. Yours.

Wrapping this up before it becomes too rambling, I hope you enjoy Sandman, I've just got back from crying my eyes out at Japanese Story, have fun with the differential equations (they're all yours now) and I have so much orange juice in my fridge I'm sure I could drown in its happiness.

Lots of love and speak to you soon, Missiedith.

(Because I can't remember the last time I signed my real name outside of a shop.)