Dull

Jesus, you're going through emotional turmoil, spending too much time on your own and what is there to distract you? Telly is crap, time differences mean that I have to be awake in the early hours to have online chats about baby oil fights with delicious Canadians, and the blogworld is crap at the moment too. I mean, I've even resorted to posting messages in Facebook of late, that's how bad things are.

So, to save plummeting further into the abyss of despair, I need to post something.

Things are rubbish, let's just leave it at that. I don't really know where I am or what the future will hold. My emotions are running high, or should I say, to the extreme. I have had shameful lapses with nicotine and booze, neither of which I'm intending to repeat ever again.


Anyway, washing machines. What is it with these things? I'm staying at my folks' this week as they're in Italy again. Their washing machine is really confusing, it's not one that you turn the dial to the "dye everything pink and shrink" setting, it has buttons and flashing lights and different options. I got a bit muddy earlier (nothing to do with lesbian wrestling) and so I'm having to wash my otherwise clean jeans and some socks, knickers and stuff. I put the washing on about 2 hours ago and it's still going! What the fuck is going on?? I could've taken it down to the Irwell and bashed it against some rocks on the riverbank.

I hate Fax machines too. Stupid bloody things.


The liver of a Chinaman
I don't know why I did it, other than stupidity I suppose and possibly because, well if I can't have a drink now, when the hell can I have one, but I had two moderate glasses of whisky last night. I was tired, I hadn't eaten. On top of this, I haven't touched a drop in over eight years. What this means is that my liver has no alcohol dehydrogenase. Whot, whot, whot? It's an enzyme that breaks down alcohol at the start of the metabolic process. Of course, my liver doesn't have any of the enzymes further down the metabolic pathway that help to clear the circulation of aldehydes - the things that make you feel shite when you're hungover - you only synthesise these enzymes if your liver is exposed to the stimulus (alcohol in this case).

Anyway, I got absolutely shitfaced within about 2 minutes and spent all day today feeling utterly wretched, moreso than I had been doing.

So there's a lesson there. You think you want something so much, crave for it, think about it so much that it becomes all consuming, you think Yes, this is what I need, I can't be happy without it. So you cross the line, taste the forbidden fruit, but when you finally get it, it's really disappointing and you wish that you'd have stayed the way you were before. Worst still, you know you've actually cheated yourself and let yourself down, people who know you will be let down and betrayed too and you can never go back to that time just a short while ago; it's been tainted. The fact that you can't go back, that you've blotted your copy book, is much worse than the disappointment of realising that smoking is pretty disgusting and that being drunk just makes you feel crap.

If where you're at is OK, just stick at it.

And if you decide to do some washing, see if there's a "quick wash" setting.