had someone say something and thought "well they can't possibly have meant that" and then thought "what if they did?" and then tied your brain in knots for days wondering what would happen to all of you if you acted on what they may or may not have even been saying in the first place?

And then with all of this wondering and internal brain wittering suddenly had the horrible (if I may quote a person greater than myself) "if you were waiting for the opportune moment...........that was it" thought and got yourself in an almighty muddle and gone over everything they may or may not have said in the history of forever until you don't know if it's bum or breakfast time?

No? 'Cos that's what my brain is doing at the moment.

To paraphrase Midge: J'ai un frère, quel bollocks.

I'm still processing so this will probably be a little ranty, emo and overly dramatic. Also not terribly coherant. Sorry.

So, yeah. As most of you know I haven't spoken to my dad since the great fuck up of November 05. But recently I've been thinking about making up with him, he sent me a card and some cash for my birthday, spoke to Kate on her 21st, I mean, 2 years is long enough to cut your old man out right?

Today I was out shopping in Lincoln (we live in dread of going there anyway cos he lives there) and was sat about waiting for Mum when he comes walking down the street. This would have been weird enough as it was but he's pushing a pushchair. At first I thought it was offspring of whatsherface that he's shacked up with but then I remembered they're all girls and definitely of walking age.

"Hello, how are you" he says, "this is your brother".

I'm out of practice with dealing with him so I wasn't sure if he was taking the piss, trust me it's hard to tell. So I rather shockily started jabbering on about random stuff. He knew about Northampton obviously, didn't say well done for getting one of only 20 places in the country, just told me not to waste it this time. Which if I hadn't been in total shock I would have scratched his eyes out for, being as he's a big cause of me "wasting it" last time.

And then he gets a bit put out by me not acknowledging his brat so he huffs "His name's Charlie by the way". Now here's the big punchline. November 05 that's what, year and a half? This kid? About 3 years old.

And here I was thinking he'd done his worst, hit the highest score on shitty things your father can do to you. You know, the drink driving, the back and forth all the way through a-levels, the lies. He still manages to mess me up. I really hate that.

Haven't updated this thing properly in bloody ages and now of course I choose to do it somewhere I can't fooking swear properly! That's right it's that time of year again, I am once again hiding out in the library in town "doing my coursework". And I am, honest, I've done.....3 lines. That's 3 whole lines of high quality B grade stuff I'll have you know. Eh, it'll get done I'll just duck Robina till I come up with a decent excuse, not too hard as she's out of college for the next two weeks yelling at the AS and A2 theatre studies lot doing their performances.

ANYway, proper update stuff if I can remember what I have and haven't put in here.

Mum is finally officially a single parent. I think relieved is the word I'm looking for, he was trying to grapple for some money but to absolutely no ones surprise didn't get his act together in time. And now that the decree absolute, or whatever it is, is through the longer he leaves it the weaker his case gets. I haven't spoken to him in so long now I really don't care one way or the other. Or at least I try not to. Dammit, this was meant to be a happy update!

The house is ohsoverynearly done. Which is nice, except if I'm asked my opinion once more on carpet, curtains or paint I am actually going to scream! It's not like I'm going to be living there for that long anyway because.........

I GOT INTO NORTHAMPTON!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. So bloody pleased with myself. It was the best audition I have ever done, no question. Best Valentines day ever actually because I got to spend it with a whole load of (really sweet actually) people for whom it was the furthest thing from their minds. Fookin ace. Despite having to get up at 4.30 and change about 6 times, wtf trains it's only about an hour by road, everything went right. So much so I was pinching myself on the way home because surely I had to be dreaming. And then the trains were delayed and I missed my connection and was stuck at Nottingham for an hour at 10 at night so I felt a bit better.

But yeah. Offer. Two offers in fact one from Northampton and one from Aberystwyth. Unconditional offers, for someone whose never had an offer in her entire life and had to go a whole. damn. year first time round with sweet FA and all her mates blithering on about what accomodation they were going into this is a big fooking deal. An offer. An offer won on my own merit no less. Yeah, it's going to be a while before that gets old.

So I've got that to cheer myself up with when I get in a panic about stuff. Warning, we are now entering the part of the post where I fret like someones granny over stuff that's not really any of my business. I worry OK? It's like a hobby.

Like Kate wanting to move to Lincoln with her boyfriend Dan(druff), Captain Useless himself. Who claims to be trained to teach people to fly planes. Yeah, right. Wouldn't trust him in charge of a fooking push bike, never mind a bleeding plane! So yeah he's jobless, Kate works at the shop with mum but doesn't get paid for it and if she works one full day has to lie in bed till 2 the next day to recover from it. And she's looking at flats in central Lincoln with astronomical rent and £400+ deposits that specify employed only and he's not even trying to look for a bloody job up here. Useless fooking southern fairy londoner tit!

Also, Jack has deleted all his myspace profiles. This is NEVER a good sign. I keep trying to remind myself that it's A) none of my business and B) he is home and therefore with people much more able to, well not exactly look after him but something like that. I know, I know, I'm a control freak mother hen. But I look after people, it's what I do. I know when you're having a wobble the thing that generally makes you feel worse is people fretting so that's why I'm not going to phone or email or anything. He'll be fine. Cluck. Cluck cluckitty cluck.