I love Jarvis

Hi

I turned 33 the other day. I was a bit wary of it, mostly because of Jarvis singing “A man told me to beware of 33. He said ‘It was not an easy time for me.’”

I love Jarvis. Only Jarvis could successfully rhyme “I” with “eye”. Jarvis successfully and publicly took the piss out of Michael Jackson – Freeeee Jarvis! And he did that great show on the BBC about sculpture. And he used to dj in London at that great gallery I forget the name of. You know, the one on the Mall (pronounced Mal, not Maul). I always wanted to go, but never did. I might have shat myself.

Jarvis often wears big black glasses. I have no idea why, but I am irresistibly drawn to boys who wear big black glassses. It might have something to do with the really great sex I had with Dane, who looks like Jack Osborne. Or maybe its something to do with vulnerability. Its definitely a plus to be in bed with a boy who has naturally vaseline-lens romantic vision. Especially when you get to my age. Sheesh.

Birthdays make me feel like a big fat loser. Or this one did anyhow. But I still had fun. I’ve got the bruises and the bills to show it. Lordy.

So I am now a girl of the Hutt. It’s right up your valley. Or mine. I haven’t finished unpacking yet, but mostly. It’s good. I have a whole houseful of stuff in the house, rather than a whole houseful of stuff stuffed into my room. Space.

Again with the space.

I saw a book lying on the side of the road that I thought Ross might be interested in. I almost picked it up for him, but then decided that I didn’t want to make myself vulnerable again. Then I bumped into his flatmate. She just had a birthday too.

Music of late:
Ani diFranco - Evolve
Blondie – Autoamerican
Le Tigre – Le Tigre
Le Tigre – Feminist Sweepstakes
Le Tigre – This Island