So my mother has osteoarthritis. I just found out this morning, after we’d been to breakfast at the local cafe which was blasting out Appetite for Destruction (which i ❤ and would love to receive a copy of). Her mother had it, and Anji's doctors suspect she has it, so chances are that I will have it too. I know she's probably a bad example of worse case scenarioism, but they're going to Morroco soon, and she's all "I need to get things out of the way this year because I won't be able to do them next year". While I don't know how much of that is true, it's still kind of fucked. She can't even knock on doors cos her fingers are so sore right now.

We drank a lot of wine tonight. Boy did I need it. Here's a pop quiz for you. Which disturbing line has the new editor said to me in the past couple of weeks?
A) "I'd like a milk chocolate sante bar please – I don't like dark chocolate"
B) "I really love the music from The Phantom of the Opera
C) “I have never seen an episode of ‘The O.C’”
D) “I love it up the butt with three fists please”
E) Everything but admitting to the buttsex

Yeah you know how it is.

Last night, after I’d stayed til almost 9pm proofreading (and I didn’t get to do the whole magazine, and based on the half that I did, I wish that my name wasn’t on the other half – although i’m sure that my dislike of the music pages for example is that it’s no longer Hott Boy writing them), I saw a hunched old lady carrying bags up the hill and since my parents had left me the van at the station I offered her a ride home. She said she lived on the big street that goes past where you turn off to where i live, so it wasn’t very much out of my way. However, when we got to her place, she stopped and chatted for a very long time. She’d just had a couple of her teeth replaced at over two grand each. She’d just had some verucas off except that she thought they were corns. She asked me where I lived and I gestured. She asked em what I did and in the same breath if i was a mother. Okay, I was driving a van in Suburbia, but it still felt weird. For some reason I said that I was a student. I suppose ti was because I knew that if I said what I did, I’d have to explain it, and she’d ask me if I liked it, and I’d be all FUCK I HATE THAT SHIT, butr I just wanted her to get the fuck out of the van. She told me that she’d studied various things trying to cure her ‘illness’ – she was talking about being crazy – and had done a B.A in Philosophy and Psychology. Her father was an English professor and her mother was one of only 3 women in her accountancy degree. She built her house 25 years ago when she was 40 but it still didn’t feel like a home. She studied yoga in India trying to fix herself. I know too much about her. Please just get out of my car. It made me realise though that what I really want is a baby, to not have to do my fucking job that I hate. It’s so hard trying to actually have a career. I believe that raising good healthy children is a valid (and important) lifestyle, so why can’t I do that instead?

Today was teh suck. However, tonight The OC is the greatest show in the entire world ever (except for Buffy).

Oh, I should point out to you that if you’re a Hubrette, and you get a message that says something like “you need to be logged in to read this entry”, and you’re all like, but dude, I’m totally logged in, well, chances are that the entry is at a higher level than your status. What you need to do is comment more, and then I’ll move you up, and we’ll be closer than ever. Hooray!

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