fucking nikky

That's an exclamation, before the dirtier-minded of you get at the title...

Also, before we start, Hot Fuzz was fantastic. Like, astoundingly good. Go see it. Now.

When I was in Melbourne with Nikky, Gideon needed me. And she dragged me away from him because she didn't want me spending time with him, she wanted to spend time with me. But he couldn't say I needed him, and I knew that, and ... I just wanted to spend time with my brother. And fucking Nikky wouldn't let me. Well, fuck her - and unfortunately, fuck everyone in the future too. Gideon comes first. Always.

I can remember now when I knew Nikky wasn't the one for me. It was at Youth Parliament, at what's known as the FOF. The FOF, or Fire of Friendship, for those not in the know, is a campfire at the end of the week where everyone shares experiences. It becomes, inevitably, quite emotional. I take full advantage of that and cry my eyes out. It's good to do that once a year or so. I knew because crying my eyes out, I didn't want to be around her. I wanted ... I don't know. Someone else.

The FOF raises another interesting point, this time about Pat (the subject of the dream, but let's not mention that, shall we? Though I guess he's the only close-to-close male friend I have since Tully, about whom I also once had a kiss dream... very curious...). At the FOF Pat and I always say "we'll talk later", fully intending it. And we never do. I'm sure there are entire equivalence classes* of people who do this. Astounding.

* An equivalence class is a special set which is equivalent under a specific type of function. I've clearly been doing too much maths.**

** I'm reminded here of a bumper sticker I thought would be funny: 0 - 100 asymptotically. God I'm sad.***

*** I wish I were drunk. Or drinking. I need a good excuse to sometime.

i traditionally spend more time looking for a blog title than writing the entry

I'd like to talk about a few things. Firstly, while listening, and I mean really listening to Landed (Ben Folds) this morning in the car I decided that I will not have any more girlfriend angst. Things will happen or they won't and there's plenty of time and it's all fine. So no more of that angst. I reserve the right to have other angst and bouts of relapsing.

Secondly, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed today confessed to 29 separate illegal acts, including planning the September 11 bombings, the Bali bombings, the 1993 World Trade Centre bombings, bombing the Empire State Building, several US embassy bombings, the Richard Reid shoe bombing, assassination attempts on George W Bush, George H W Bush, Bill Clinton, Jed Bartlett and Pope John Paul II. He also confessed to planning bombings of Big Ben, Heathrow Airport, killing Daniel Pearl, kidnapping the Lindburgh baby, hiding Lord Lukin and killing John F Kennedy, despite not being born at the time. The only things on that list I made up were the last three (and plotting to kill Jed Bartlett, clearly). This guy has confessed to everything under the sun, having been held at Guantanamo Bay for the past year, with the two years before that spent in secret CIA detention - in a "safe but secure location", one can only presume. People only confess to everything for one of two reasons: they are taking one for the team, or they have been tortured, threatened and mentally destroyed to the point where they will sign anything you put in front of them. I have my bets on which. What perhaps disgusts me most (though really it doesn't disgust me as much as the horror they've put this guy through - beyond what he deserves even if he did all that stuff) is that they are promoting this as a big victory. Clearly he masterminded everything and now they've got him for it. And they'll kill him for it.

Let's move on though. Let's talk about a question that occurred to me. Does it matter who you kiss if you kiss someone, in terms of cheating? This occurs because I've been watching too much West Wing (and also probably too much Clerks II). Like, if you kiss someone but have no intentions towards them, is that any less cheating than kissing someone with intent? I'm curious.

Next thing is that Angie has been talking about moving out. That makes me feel like I should move out. I can't afford it now but could if I tried. Perhaps I should? I almost certainly should. Hmmm. We'll see.

Finally, think about what you're doing right now. You're reading this blog on the internet. Now think about just how much work went into making this work. Start with agriculture and move on. That is truly astounding to me, the amount that was required directly - not counting water or public transport or any of that - just to make me complaining to the whole world so easy. Astounding.

my darlin' I...

...can't get enough of your love, babe...

On my way home in the car I sing. I sing and I dance. And I do one other thing.

I choose my music based on how long I have left in the journey. Tonight was Middle of the Hill (Josh Pike) followed by Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe (Barry White) as in the title, and finally I got to The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name (and Can't Go Up or Down the Stairs) by Sam and Tully. That one didn't finish. It's great.

I have no idea what more to say... except that the song doesn't remind me of Nikky.