I’m spending most of my time these days on Flickr’s Polaroid pool. Polaroid film somehow has the ability to make skies look like watercolour washes. And for those of you not feeling quite so artsy-fartsy: Stick Figures in Peril!
RED LETTER DAY
I have, for once in my life, actually finished a tube of lipstick. I get a strange feeling of accomplishment from this. Usually lipstick just sits in a drawer for years and then gets chucked out during a move. But now I am a woman.
ROBIN’S NEUROSES PART THE MILLIONTH: INEXPLICABLE AVERSIONS
1. Biting cloth. Not that I’m forced to do it much, but the idea of biting down on fabric bothers me. I found a picture today on Flickr of a woman holding a corner of her shirt between her teeth and it made me shudder. I also dislike the sensation of biting wood (yes, thanks, I already thought of that joke), and I don’t eat iced lollies for this reason.
2. Cuts on my feet. I’m terrified that someone will hold me down and cut the soles of my feet, or stick needles in them. Again, this situation mercifully doesn’t arise very often, but if you ever need to get political secrets out of me, this is the way to do it.
3. Newsprint on my hands. Yes, it’s true: the reason I don’t keep up on current affairs is not because I’m wilfully ignorant – it’s because my hands feel grubby after I finish a newspaper. Although that could just be the psychological effect of reading the latest reports of George Bush’s sabre-rattling.
4. People walking behind me. The sound of someone (especially in loud heels) walking directly behind me gives me that feeling you get when someone runs their finger up your spine. STOP FOLLOWING ME!
BYE BYE YOU AMERICAN GUY
SiC and I have had a yank staying with us for the last two months. He’s a friend of friends of SiC’s, and he got in touch with us when he came over from Colorado to start a job in London; so we offered him a place to stay until he got on his feet. He’s very nice, but I have a feeling I’ve been a horrible bitch to him – I’m like a bear or an orangutan in that I become ferocious when I encounter other members of my species in my territory. (SiC is all right because I use him for mating purposes.) Anyway, he’s moving out today and I am looking forward to the chance to roam the flat freely in my natural state. (Well, maybe not tonight, as my mother-in-law is coming to visit. My life is becoming a sitcom.)
Our American is moving in with a houseful of young Australian lads. I’m a bit worried about him: he’s going to have to learn to drink proper lager, and sharpish. You ain’t in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.