Winter wonderland frolics

Dear Diary,

Fairly uneventful few days, really. Apart from me BLATANTLY breaking my self-imposed New Year's Resolution to blog faithfully every single day, grrr..... Fuck only knows why, as, per usual, have hardly been doing anything exciting.
Actually, I take that back! Thursday was VERY exciting! On account of it being the last time Lisa and I would see each other before she jetted (or drove) back to Oxford, we decided to get together. Now normally, it would be the pub, or a night in with DVDs and munchies. Only this time, it would be different. Because Mum, in her ever-growing capacity of the instigator of fantastic ideas, suggested we visit the Chill Factor. And, thanks to newly-discovered philosophy, I had to say Yes. But DAAAAAAAMN, I'm glad I did!!!

For those of you who don't know, the Chill Factor is bascially an indoor ski slope. But before I could get TOO worried about saying Yes to learning how to ski, I did a little research and joyfully discovered they do other stuff too. And that is how on Thursday night, (after massive scrumptious ice-creams in a nearby parlour) Lisa and I came to be wearing crash helmets, snow boots, and sliding down a snowy slope on inflatable rubber rings. And it was AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZING!!! Had the most fun ever, despite our girlish shrieking everytime we went down, haha. We had a full 45 minutes to squeeze the most out of it, and squeeze we did. Mostly onto the handles, to stop ourselves flying out whenever we zoomed up the slope at the end. Decided to keep my eyes shut all the way during one go, and scarily stomach-dropping as it was, it felt absolutely breath-taking, and dare-I-say-it-without-sounding-massively-pretentious, freeing.

Had an impromptu snow fight at the end of the session (THEY USE REAL SNOW!!) before trudging sweatily to the changing rooms, and then the bar for a well-deserved pint. Sat and watched the skiers come down the master slope for a while, and decided that without a doubt, this would be the PERFECT first date to bring someone on. Breathless fun, endless jokes, countless eating establishments to visit before (or after), several bars, AND you can rest assured that if they close on a second date even after seeing you all breathless, snowy and sweaty, they are most certainly a keeper. And, as Lisa pointed out, it would most certainly break the ice. (*Pauses for comedy drums and symbals sound effect*) She said it, not me!! Hehe.
Have also now established two things:

1) Where all the snow in England REALLY is
2) Where all the hot men in England are

Yesterday was full of nothing-ness, apart from work at the pub. Rhianne has now left following New Year debacle (and apparently not having enough "people skills") so for the time being has been replaced by Tara. Who left when I got hired, and is now back. And is the Mum of Little Dickhead. God save us. Already seems to have made her mark by earning more tips than me, telling everyone who'll listen exactly how she is a good, hard worker and why, and criticising the way I do things. Le sigh. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I am not 41, have not spawned the most despised man since Brown and my boobs are still high (well, relatively). Landlady was in a strangely good mood (despite having just come from a funeral) and gave me an extra shift AND a hug when I left. Curiouser and curiouser......

And so, onto today. Had the most outstanding dream involving Lee again. I really need to stop thinking about him so much. Or at least stop stalking his Facebook. Once a day really is a tad obsessive, surely - must start limiting myself. Once a week, maybe? However, from what Detective K has deduced, he has not updated it for almost a week. Which I'm HOPING indicates that he actually has his job back after all, and is too busy to spend time on such paltry matters as networking. Surely? Here's hoping so.

Marie texted me earlier - asking if she could borrow "He's just not that into you". I felt like bitch-slapping her. After that performance at the pub on Monday, and how hard she's worked to convince me that everything's rosy between her and SuperTwat, does she SERIOUSLY expect me to lend her the book that a poor sap like myself needs, when she has someone to shag her all the time so she doesn't have to think about such trifling matters? Grrrrr..... grrrrrrrrrrrr..... She can fuck RIGHT off.

M: "Hey hun, hows u? Gd n k I op. Wel, wer jst wondrin, cn I lend that bk u lent ur m8 the otha wk?"
(I fucking HATE it when people don't use proper words in texts. One of the reasons Oli and I were doomed, I suppose)
K: "Hey! Which book do you mean? He's just not that into you? Cos with all due respect, I wouldn't have thought you needed it at the moment"
(I know, subtle, aren't I? I might as well paint "Bitter Twat" across my head)
M: "Yer, that's the 1. N wel it always gud 2 knw, that y. Haha, am mad I knw"
K: "Piss off, you smug little bitch"
(OK, I didn't really send that. I typed it out, to make myself feel better, but I never actually replied.)

If she's really that concerned, she can go buy the motherfucking book. But in the meantime, she can just focus on actually HAVING someone to have sex with, to hold, share a bed and have fun with, so she doesn't have to think about the bad things in life for a few hours - and she can stop questioning everything and just count her fucking blessings.

Jesus Christ! So much vitriol - I think I need anger management therapy.

It must just be Marie, as I didn't REMOTELY react this way when Lisa borrowed the book. Mainly cos she doesn't inadvertantly rub things in my face or actually annoy me when she talks about Mike. Gosh, though. Since when did this nasty side of me come out to play? Hmmm.... Surely drinking will help. Lots and lots of drinking. Which there will be ample oppurtunity for at Shaun's leaving party tonight! Speaking of which, I said I'd go help make the food, so if you'll excuse me......

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Current Music: "Feel it" - The Tamperers