2004-05-11..12:49 p.m.

That Zan and Nelle are so far away right now pains me, and now in this big heap pit of despair and melancholy I sit and drone piteously like a bee drunk on honey and weighed by doubt and slowly sinking.

Actually, that�s far more melodramatic than necessary, but I am very much the confused kitten, to be sure.

Except for the fact I SLEPT until TWELVE in the AFTERNOON on both Saturday AND Sunday which I never ever do, but desperately needed given my average last week of 4 hours a night if I was lucky, it was one hectic weekend for Emma that continued into last night. Much is buzz buzz buzzing in my little brain. This whole boys thinking of me in physically favourable lights, beguiled by my womanly wiles sort of came to a head, and I�m simply befuddled by it all: these boys are strange in their misguided admiration.

Matthew and I had a talk about *things* on Saturday, and again on Sunday AND AGAIN yesterday and much to my surprise I�m much more attracted to him that I ever thought. Knowing how much someone cares for you is a very seductive prospect. We talked long and hard about the Monster Crush, whom he has a distinct dislike for ever since all this erupted. Despite the fact I know that his resentment towards the MC has more to do with envy than anything; some of the thing he said have still made me wonder. This is because while entirely believable and likely, his accusations simply don�t match up with MCs actions. And yet, and yet. Entirely believable and likely. I�m very much torn by knowing what will be very good for me (stable and loving and solid, but a bit lacking in sordid passionistic excitement and somewhat reminiscent of my first boyfriend who was jealous and controlling and who I was entirely unfaithful towards), what isn�t particularly good for me (but IS full of the sordid passionistic excitement I crave so)(if also full of the skirting the edges of fidelity), and what I want (which will make me happier than I could possibly hope for, but will leave me with my heart ripped from its socket, dragged backwards for 20 miles over broken glass and shrapnel from biochemical hand grenades, and left to roast on a turning spit of misery over the fire of rejection.)(But while it�s making me happy, will fill me to the very freckles on my nose with such euphoria I may just collapse giggling and never get up). Cause to be torn so has never been upon me, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. Jesus, who the fuck ever has three dudes in pursuit? I feel silly even appearing to complain about it, but frankly I�d rather not be in this situation at all.

I think I will very likely turn from all of them, because it�s the safest option. I�m cowardly, aren�t I.

Books I hope to soon own once the library stops bothering me with things like �fines� and �theft�:

The Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole

The Long Good-bye, Raymond Chandler

Tender is the Night, ol� F. Scott

The Midwich Cuckoo�s, John Wyndham

Apparently, there are no female novelists in my library.

My new reviews are up, and I�m not wholly displeased with them, but I don�t think they�re great. I saw Ron Sexsmith last night at the Rats, who was utterly stunning. His lyrics are things of the deepest simplicity, yet the most heated complexity. Will be writing up a thing for it for an entirely new online magazine! My repertoire is growing. I�ve had a bunch of people tell me I should send off to Q and NME, and other proper music magazines, but I don�t want to unless the shit I�ve got is good enough, and to be honest, those people who have told me I should are a little biased (ie, at least two of them can be considered as listed above), so I don�t trust anything they say. Personally I think I need a little more experience before jumping in and pretending like I know what I�m doing. Like the Von Bondies interview. What the fuck am I THINKING??? It�s next week or the week after, tentatively marked down in erasable pencil. While it�d be the coolest thing ever to have them down as a group I�ve spoken to/written up, I�m really not a good interviewer in person and so how�ll manage on the phone is beyond me. I need to stop saying yes. Just say no, is in fact what I need to remember.

Spiderman has now started infiltrating my dreams, not really doing anything webby. Just lurking in the background. And for some reason I think I may have dreamt about Mango! Fucking Mango! I don�t know what it was she was doing, or even if I really did, but that horse laugh and elephantine gait has been with me for days now. Weird. Jesus, there are so many things I wish we�d pulled. Just because we�d never have the opportunity again. Seriously, it makes me cross that we never drew enormous cocks on those damn elephant posters that weren�t even posters. A Fucking Calendar plastered to her walls. You know what else I wish we�d done? Taken that damn whiskey and replaced it with malt vinegar. Drink that, bitch! How is it that she still haunts me? I was never a malevolent or cruel person before I met her. I�m not now, actually, otherwise I�ve be all over Matthew�s heart like a fat kid on a smartie lying in the middle of the high street. There�s just something about her that warps your senses and makes you start wishing you had less self-control. The Curse of the Mango. It stays with you forever.

I just got an email from my editor, Apparently his co-dude has been crashing all over the place. Or rather his co-dude�s computer has been crashing all over the place. The co-dude, from all accounts, is mostly just kicking things, but otherwise quite steady on his feet. It�s like a bloody Gap ad: Everyone with Computer Problems! The MC came over recently and helped me install my new hard drive, but with no operating system I�ve not been able to even get started which is so very very irritating. Because without said operating system I�m having to beseech and beg my flatmate for use of hers. HOWEVER! I�m FINALLY in near possession of an operating system (being provided for by the MC, sweet boy), and with that my laptop woes will be (almost certainly, but you really can never tell with these things, so crossing fingers and knocking on cyber wood) over. Regardless, this will mean that I can do things like come home at night.. And write! Without having to ask if I can borrow my flatmates! No more evil looks and feeling guilty for techno-monopolisation! Huzzah!

I�m feeling a lot better now, less droning. More like a faint hum.

****meep