Add another one: …never get drunk again…
Round at Des's, drinking vodka&cranberry all night. Drunk as a horrible dribbling thing, basically. I could feel my eyes pulling themselves downwards whilst I was trying to maintain any sort of conversation level. Shocking. The reason I chose vodka was because, of course, no hangover with good vodka! Instead, only stumbling, sagging on to the sofa, waking up at 5.36am, stumbling out of trousers still absolutely drunk, collapsing on bed only to be woken seconds later at 8am by the alarm. Snooze button… snooze button… snooze button…. 8.45 phone call from Kai. Bastard got me out of bed on time. I wanted another day off! Can't I not work and get paid, please? Other people manage it, why can't I?

Talked girl stuff which was slightly alarming for the first few minutes (we are talking about Danny here, remember… friendship loyalties start kicking in and in the back of your head somewhere is a voice saying "Should I be hearing this? Oh fuck it…"). Girl talk - not enough of it in my life. When it comes it's an almighty relief to just go "Here's-everything-stressing-me-out-about-my-relationship-all-at-once". Phew.

New era resolutions "Fitter, Happier" style:

...stop criticising Kai all the time...avoid the company of insecure ego-driven men even if they are my friends...join a gym...start writing again. Doh!...be confident at work and stop hiding…buy fewer bloody records...read more second hand books...travel more...stop thinking about kids for a while - it ain't happening, spoon brains, so there's point thinking about it...stop being under the impression that I have to be nice to everyone all the time. and letting yourself think you've let yourself down and feel horribly guilty as a result...let go of the past. Do you hear me? LET GO OF THE FUCKING PAST! It is allowed to exist, it doesn't have to occupy all of your waking bloody moments, though, does it?...make more time for yourself - hello? Are you listening? Well don't ignore me then - just do it, it's quite simple...join the gym, just join the damn gym and stop saying you will...cycle to work every day...take your damn pills and then perhaps you wouldn't end up doubled up in pain would you?...read this once a week to remind myself.

Told you I'd make it. I'll have to be brief because I'm paying two fifty per half hour for this, and I've wasted half an hour already. Edinburgh only ever reminds me of the past. Even while it was the past it probably reminded me of the year before. Now it just remind me of every year before. What does it remind me of... it reminds me of the fact that I no longer smoke, which is, let me tell you, hell on fucking earth right at this minute. It reminds me most of making friends, many of whom I hardly see now. While I was out with Lotti on Friday night, I ran in to Stu and Gina, and without having to ask each other what we meant by it, I said "When are you going up?". That's the first thing I have said to him for months.

I keep thinking of lost loves and past lives. I wish I was writing some stupid, badly put together feature for "The List" while I'm here, or typing some well thought out review of someone who sucks only to feel like a complete bastard for the next three months. To tell you the truth though, every second of my time I spend alone, I'm simply feeling melancholy, about lives not lived, opportunities not taken, then smiling at the opportunities I *did* take (and the liberties).

Sorry. This isn't coming out the way I wanted. Oh, hey, I'll try and back the Edinburgh stuff up with Asides when I get home - or maybe I can now, it depends what they're FTP stuff is like I guess. Maybe I could install Cute. God knows. I'll have a go now. Might be back, dunno.

Oh yeah, I caught up with Saurabh, keeper of one heck of a great name, who still manages to look fresh faced, even with last year's fashionable side-burns adorning his visage. He says he's working for Ginger now, so he's a semi-Virgin. He made me go and see a play Gary Parker was in- a version of "Conversations with my Agent", which only served to make me feel even more cynical and strange. He was ok, but a lad playing opposite him, doing all the other "lad" parts, was fantastic. He reminded me of the guy in "Sex, Lies and Videotape". Is it Peter Gallagher or another Gallagher? Anyway, I'd seen him before in something but Christ knows what (usual story).

So I happened to have to come in to work today.

So I thought I'd do the housekeeping while I was here.

I feel inexplicably miserable for some reason. I can get so emotional sometimes over the weirdest things. I was watching MTV while reading the paper this morning, and "Groove is In The Heart" came on. Its so up, fun and was one of those Zeitgeist records. I got really choked, remembering all of the exceptional blazing future that lay on a sparkling road ahead when it came out, and the glorious "nothing can touch us" life of being a clever fuck at university. So much has happened and hasn't happened since then, I look back at the very early nineties as a sort of nirvana sometimes. I must have been as screwed up then as I am now, but over different things I suppose. Doing a journal again makes me think of other times. Is that bad? To coin a phrase: there's no future in it is there.

Only yesterday I felt like the world was my lobster. Out with Lotti last night, we talked about things that meant stupidly large amounts but are pointless to even consider talking about. It achieves nothing, it solves nothing. She made me feel uncomfortable because I talked about myself so damn much. But she lead me in to it, trap after trap. "You just can't stop talking!"... well quit making me feel nervous about talking and then I will stop you berk!

I haven't written anything for a while because I've been up to my eyeballs, plus, well, yes, I did want to leave the last entry at the top for a couple of days out of some sort of mischievous thrill. Well, to be honest, I'd had an appalling row with a very arrogant bloke at work. "Don't try to tell me my job, Cait". Well, if you were doing your job as well as you should, I wouldn't have to remind you of the bits of it you weren't doing, would I.
Fuck it, it's only work.

Actually got paid at fucking last. My god, it took them long enough. To celebrate I went to the Megastore. Sparklehorse album, very good. Also, retro hour - Pulp from the early nineties with a revelatory piece of information that the singles of "My Legendary girlfriend", Countdown" and "Razzmatazz" are rare and should be treasured. So, who was the woman who phoned Gina and told her to hear "My Legendary Girlfriend" because it was so superb? Well, me obviously, but to keep on crowing about something nearly ten years ago is pretty tedious. But of course, I will though.

Met up with Del La Grace Volcano, previously known as Della Grace for lunch. Another one of those people who you find yourself kicking your own ankles about to say "He" instead of "She". When Brett had his operation, and became Tracey, man - that was a real head fuck, not because of what she did, but just remembering to call 'him' her. My Mum had a real problem with the whole thing and it was very messy, but my stance was always - life throws you things, you deal with them if you feel that person is worthy of your dealing with them. If Tracey is happier, more fulfilled, more comfortable with herself than she was when he was Brett, then we should applaud Tracey and be there for her in the way we would do any member of our family. Del sees his body as part of his art. I still have problems thinking if him as a 'him', with this low, smokey, womanly, purring voice. Ha. Still, that's my problem I guess. I think I feel confused about the need for actual definition and stamping with a name "I am a *this* and definitely not a *that*". Well, whatever. I don't know what the hell I am. I love feeling that, it's so un-confusing, confusingly. Genuinely don't know. I know I'm in a girl body, which is cool - I like my body, it is warm and round and firm and soft, and has breasts and curves and everything, so I wouldn't want that to change. That's the only "for sure" bit.

Stef put me up for Haddock, the sweetie. I beat Danny, haha...! The important thing here is though now at least I'll be able to work out what half my friends are bloody doing half the time.

Two other things: "Dots and Queries" and oh joy to the world, got tickets for The Divine Comedy, and, fantastic - also The Afghan Whigs, surely one of the most UNDERRATED BANDS IN AMERICA. Can I make that any clearer? Their last album… bloody hell, it was fantastic.

I'm off to Edinburgh for a week - will attempt to update, but will probably fail through being too busy and trying to find a decent Web Caff. It'll be Cyberia, I know it.