So, Desperate Housewives was ace as ever though omg wtf I hadn’t seen the AWFUL title sequence till last night. A few questions, though: 1. Who did that kid belong to? 2. Wouldn’t they notice their kid has a brand new bike? 3. What or who is in that case and can I stop myself going onto TWOP to find out? (Crishna, please don’t tell me) And Bree is so weird. I like Susan though, and her daughter (does she even have a name yet?).
Shameless was also ace, though why does anyone keep talking to Frank? And poor Fiona! Her bloke (bugger, what’s his name?) has a habit of being crap and then making a wildly overblown dramatic gesture to make up for it.
Tried out the spray-in conditioner yesterday, and have come up against a problem: don’t actually know how much you’re supposed to use. I think I made a pretty good guess, because it’s not like my hair is dead today, but I’m not 100% sure. Although the shortness and bluntness of it was quite funky.
Going to have sushi see, um, Look at Me tomorrow. I think that’s what it is, anyway. It’s on in the cheap cinema so woo cheap tickets and popcorn. It’s a French film and I think it might be about infidelity (a French film about relationships? Noooooo! What a surprise!) Still not ordered La Haine, now I think about it. Gah. Borders have Malena for £10.
Just a few days till My School Disco Hell (I’m thinking of it as a kind of Closer article or something). Ugh, why did I agree to it? (answer: Claire asked, and she wants to go out more, and I was trying to be nice, and free broadband) However, refuse to put my hair in bunches. Anyone who says that they’ll look nice has either a) never seen my hair or b) has no imagination. Not sure what to do with hair otherwise. Any ideas?
P at work knew who Mr Chasez was and also agrees that he’s damn fit :). Clearly she is a woman of taste (she’s also the one who likes lemon, which reminds me, I have lemon crisps at home. Yum)
I love watching my hands type numbers. Or just type at all. There’s something very clever about watching people type – it always looks so much more complicated than it is. Does that make any sense?
Dear threw one of her massive strops last night. It was over ironing water. Yes, ironing water. She took the bottle out of the cupboard and dropped it, and started shouting about the water. Dad and I said that she must have picked it up by the neck or lid, because the lid wouldn’t have come off otherwise, and she started ranting on about how it wasn’t on properly. Her inability to take responsibility for the smallest thing made me giggle, and then she stormed off upstairs refusing to do her ironing (which at the moment is about 5 times as much as anyone else’s and I’m not exaggerating). Her parting shot was ‘Well tell HER to stop laughing at me.’ And then she sulked in her room all evening. I heard her having a tearful conversation with someone, probably Ben (omg omg my family hate me they’re liek omg so meeen) but by about 10 she was happy as Larry again and on the phone to someone else. This morning, it was like nothing happened. Sodding mood swings, I swear. Oh, and when I went into the kitchen to check she hadn’t left a mess, the amount of water that had been spilt was probably about 50 ml. *heavy sigh*