A list about my night:
- I'm quite drunk.
- I went to a nice 30th birthday party for my lovely friend Linda, who I was at high school with a million years ago and I talked to a guy called James.
- Whilst there, my friend Matt smeared homemadce icecream all over my face so it looked like I had *come* all over my face and then I didn't wash it off for a bit and I had a normal, serious conversation with this guy I was talking to and every time he went to speak, he would *pause*, just for a second, in a, "oh god" kind of way, and then continue. That made Matt laugh a LOT.
- I'm wide awake.
- And running out of cigarettes.
- Now drinking gingerale (!) because there's no fucking booze left in the house. *grimaces*
- I'm listening to Sarah Vaughan, the greatest jazz singer to ever walk the planet. My idol. I worship her. If I could bring myself to perform in public again, oh MAN, she is my inspiration. I miss singing. I only ever sing now when I'm, like, *hammered*, and my silly inhibitions go out the window, and my friends love it and not that oh I'm just pretending to love it because you're my friend, they love it becauase I have a *great voice*, and I have this one talent and I don't use it and it sucks that I can't use it because what's the use of being able to sing if you suffer from stage fright and really *really* can't enjoy that one, crucial aspect, that one *necessity* of your craft, so you just sing all day, along to songs on the radio and I'll probably spend the rest of my life *not* singing. I SUCK.
- I think I might watch another episode of SV before I go to sleep.