"a stylish illegal immigrant"
that's what Ben called me in his last e-mail, when i told him that i was tempted to screw my visa extension application to hell and spend the money on a new pair of boots or a bag. £250, people. that's how cruel the Home Office is. and with Christmas coming up too!
the longest e-mail he has ever sent also included some recipes, crazy hobos, pseudo porn, and a dollop of "what if's" and "remember when's". which got me kind of thinking about "what if's" and "remember when's" too.
you see, it's been a kind of miserable week for me here at Freezingmytitsoff Central. it all started with a sick Monday, Day 3 of my flu. i say flu, but it's actually just Flu : Stage 1. you know, the dry cough, sorethroat, perpetual tiredness stage... the one that comes before the running nose, sneezy, can't sleep because of my stuffed nose, wish-i-was-dead stage. i'm sitting here, on Day 7 of Flu : Stage 1, wishing that it would just progress and get worse already so i can blow my brains out of my nose and get it over with.
Tuesday was the start of my back-ache. the past 4 days i've been moving around like a heavily pregnant lady (no offence, pregnant ladies) - keeping my back straight, squatting instead of bending. it has not been fun at Camp Iciclesareformingonmyceiling.
oh, and it's getting colder too. summer is most definitely OVER.
so. can i blame me for getting all sentimental and wistful?
because if things worked out differently, if i had learned to for once in my life swallow my damn pride, maybe i'd have someone to tuck me into bed with a back massage, a hot watter bottle and a bowl of his comfort food (chicken with oyster sauce). i would then say "Don't fuck about." and he would go back to the kitchen to fix me my comfort food - waffles with ice cream, maple syrup and strawberries. and a big steaming mug of strong black coffee.
but things didn't work out differently. and who am i to deny me my pride? so i wrote an even longer e-mail back - an 18-paragraph ramble about shopping, Paris, new cars, non-stick pans, cranberry juice and snuff films (among others).
because no one does avoidance better than me.
which also explains why i will die alone, my body lying undiscovered until the smell becomes unbearable, and even when i am found, it's with half a face because my cat got hungry.
the longest e-mail he has ever sent also included some recipes, crazy hobos, pseudo porn, and a dollop of "what if's" and "remember when's". which got me kind of thinking about "what if's" and "remember when's" too.
you see, it's been a kind of miserable week for me here at Freezingmytitsoff Central. it all started with a sick Monday, Day 3 of my flu. i say flu, but it's actually just Flu : Stage 1. you know, the dry cough, sorethroat, perpetual tiredness stage... the one that comes before the running nose, sneezy, can't sleep because of my stuffed nose, wish-i-was-dead stage. i'm sitting here, on Day 7 of Flu : Stage 1, wishing that it would just progress and get worse already so i can blow my brains out of my nose and get it over with.
Tuesday was the start of my back-ache. the past 4 days i've been moving around like a heavily pregnant lady (no offence, pregnant ladies) - keeping my back straight, squatting instead of bending. it has not been fun at Camp Iciclesareformingonmyceiling.
oh, and it's getting colder too. summer is most definitely OVER.
so. can i blame me for getting all sentimental and wistful?
because if things worked out differently, if i had learned to for once in my life swallow my damn pride, maybe i'd have someone to tuck me into bed with a back massage, a hot watter bottle and a bowl of his comfort food (chicken with oyster sauce). i would then say "Don't fuck about." and he would go back to the kitchen to fix me my comfort food - waffles with ice cream, maple syrup and strawberries. and a big steaming mug of strong black coffee.
but things didn't work out differently. and who am i to deny me my pride? so i wrote an even longer e-mail back - an 18-paragraph ramble about shopping, Paris, new cars, non-stick pans, cranberry juice and snuff films (among others).
because no one does avoidance better than me.
which also explains why i will die alone, my body lying undiscovered until the smell becomes unbearable, and even when i am found, it's with half a face because my cat got hungry.
posted by nu. at 11:33 pm
3 Comments:
congratulations nu! you've found yourself new spam AND a new admirer. i must say that is very admirable. p.s. in case you didn't already know, i've always admired your writing... now i'm off to find something else to admire about.
thanks, Graham & surwira, for the kind kind comments. you guys are too sweet.
thanks even to annonymous for my new spam. next time i'm constructing a road privately, i'll know where to go.
thanks very muchly, Girl. drop by again sometime!
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