TTYN

I bought a bottle of red wine, and sat down to say goodbye to a few things in my head some of these are:

#1 - The schoolfriend who I've seen crossing my path in the mornings eight or nine times in the last month. She's not said hello once. I even Facebooked her, "I think I'm seeing ghosts. Do you cross my path occaisonally in the mornings?" Nothing since. That's a big old FUCK OFF in my book. Bye!

#2 - This house. I'm going.

Tentpole

Clare Buckfield, who I fancied the arse off when I was younger, was in Little Shop of Horrors at the Opera House. Steph offered me her ticket, and I went with Amie and her friends. Clare's still got it. My favourite moment? Was it when she dived head-first into Audrey II and pointed her arse at me? Or was in when she bowed at the end at aimed her cleavage right at me? Not sure. Either way, TENTPOLE!

Bad ideas

Mixing love and work.

Flirting with a colleague who, a month ago, drunk, told you she wasn't happy with her boyfriend, close to tears.

Pretending to forget that she, a month ago, drunk, said she fancied you.

Replying to her chatty emails after 5pm, when the office is quiet.

Sneaking off for a pint with her.

Bringing a surprise present to the pub for her, however small.

Holding her gaze for a little too long during conversation.

My tutor loves me

"You're doing really well so far. I've got a student who started in January who's behind you."

Team meeting

I always bite my lip in this kind of meeting. An hour in, and we were still talking about washing-up, about fruit flies, about dress-down Fridays. Strategy? Whatever.

At exactly 9 minutes per mile

I prefer to run at speeds that are integers.

Miley makes me smiley

Miley Cyrus: 10, Jonathan Ross: 0

Woody and Clare

I met Woody and Clare for a couple of beers after work that developed into a Rain - Temple - Cornerhouse - Solomon's session. "I don't see enough of you mate," said Woody. And it wasn't just the beer talking. I miss my Parsonage crowd really hard sometimes. Evenings and weekends mostly. I should try harder. Do more. Text better. Call more regularly. Share more time.

I don't. My own fault.

Stiff

I'm still feeling that 12-miler from Tuesday. Right knee. Calves like knives. But it felt so good at the time. I'm going to break the half-marathon soon. For the buzz, fuck the afters.

Breaking ten

I was really pissed off that my last longish run didn't quite break ten miles, so I did this one to guarantee that the psychological barrier that ten miles is and was absolutely and thoroughly smashed. 1 hour 58 min 36 sec. Alright!