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A song that has no meaning; just like this one...
On 2001-11-28 at 7:41 p.m.... So, apparently, there are depths of cold to which I have not previously been exposed. I mean, I'm from the north of England, which is the cold bit, and I'm used to rain and wind and soul-destroying cloud. However, this? This is just not funny. Also, I'm a person who thinks in Celsius (not all the time, just when it comes to weather), and when I think of, say, 18 degrees, I think that's fairly balmy. Actually, as it turns out, it's just barmy. Lung-shattering, comedy cold. However, there's no wind, so it's actually really, really nice. I'm staying aux Etats-Unis for the festive part of the year. It's not technically my fault, but my parents (bless their gin-soaked socks) said yay (because they're mediaeval town cryers), so that leaves me...well, here. Christmas on one coast, New Year on another. I like to think of myself as jet-set, but unfortunately not. Oh. I was trying to convince myself that I don't live somewhere exceptionally pretentious, when I was studying in a coffee shop, and heard: 'You look very tense; would you like me to perform some reiki on you?'. I almost wept with joy. I will not watch 'Felicity'. I will not. As exotically cantilevered as that woman is, I do not particularly want a new version of me. I think this diary might be sliding downhill. I'm sorry if it is; I think it's because I'm not really worried about anything, apart from money and finals week. Reading about happy people is one of the most boring things on earth, especially happy, lazy people such as myself. Of course, you could always sign my guestbook, and reassure me otherwise. Just a suggestion.
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