I presume that Vision is still down, but that’s okay, I can just save this journal entry on my hard-drive until I get the chance to upload it.
So it’s Friday. I had dreams about waking up this morning. Those are always the weirdest dreams, cos they seem so real. Then I have to focus in on the tiny details to work out if I was just dreaming or not. Stuff like my faerie tale book being in Wellington so there’s no way it could have been by my computer – things like that. Lines get blurred when I wake up, decide to do something (in this case, welcome Clayton back home) and then go back to sleep. I dreamt about hugging him, and then wasn’t sure when I actually got up if I should hug him again. But I did, and he was duely grateful. Now just as soon as Si gets back tomorrow, I’ll have my little family together again.
Last night it was raining and I was sad and stuff, so I couldn’t sleep. Instead I read about half of a book that Karen bought me for my birthday, called “The Ectasy Club” by Douglas Rushkoff (I think). It started off pretty cool, but then it started spiralling out of control. I finished it today, because it was raining and gloomy again, so perfect weather for climbing into bed and well… reading (since that was my only option). It got all cybercrazy and conspiracied up though, which sucked. But I guess it’d be too cliched to just write a book about drugs and sex. Dammit, there goes my autobiography idea. That was a joke, by the way.
Dawson’s Creek pissed me off lots tonight. I mean, I know it’s lame to start whinging about TV, but Jesus! It irked me so much that Jen was honest with Dawson and then he went and frreaked out on her. Grrr. Boys and experiance eh?
Tonight I went out with Shirley and Trudie to the Classic to watch Brad do Stand Up comedy. He’s actually pretty damn good at it. In fact, all four people that were on were very funny. So that was cool. Plus it was nice to see Kate M again, and even Nigel. And of course, it goes without saying that it was good to get out of the house. Before that, I had been considering going to read my old paper diaries from 6th and 7th form, back to the days when I thought I’d be in ‘love’ forever, with whatever the sundry boy at the time was, to reassure myself that I will move on. Eventually. But this is like more serious, and I still have feelings and wish I could be with him again though. Is it better in the long run to live in hope, or without it?