Saturday 8th September
My post "drunk hotness" blues: I spent the day curled up when I had the chance, happily marooned in the Crow's Nest with Patrick. I say happily in that it was (relatively) quiet and I could act like a slug in peace, only venturing out for necessities and football.
Actually, I suppose I am more like a Hutt than a slug; I lie on the mattress on the floor like it is my throne. All I need now is a local Kowakian monkey-lizard to cackle at the outside world from a position atop the mantelpiece and the scene is complete.
Why can't I be the one wearing the metal bikini?
Nothing of note to report, just post-booze sniffling and a general feeling of malaise. Recalling how I thought I looked so awesome last night that I actually took a photo of myself to record the moment, then today thinking about how someone should be proud to have me on their arm and in their life- Me, alone in a small room, lying on a mattress with no-one to hug but a poorly soft toy. Humph.
I cheered myself up by watching a few episodes of Star Trek: TNG- the ones I could find featuring either Q or Lwaxana Troi. I now feel a need to watch all the Star Trek films I can get my hands on. Oh dear.
