I wanted to write something. I've been hanging around the 'jar for the last half an hour after my shower, smelling sweet, and wanting to type something but not being able to come up with a jot. There is a saying about needing and God providing and until right now I didn't really believe it, but now, I believe it [forRosie: somebody told you that I didn't believe it, but you did believe it, and now I believe it]
The New Zealand Herald, our pathetic excuse for a National Paper, carries an article about the Royal New Zealand Ballet's tour of the UK - and heading that article is a photograph of their finest looking [okay he's a flipping good dancer too!] member [you said member] - Alex Wagner.
I mean, can you *say* silver platter?
This article has spared you a post on how nice my inner arm smells, how sore my calf muscle is, how many cabs I have caught today, the evolution of the telephone, dialadextraphobia (or the fear of dialling numbers), the new book I am reading (ok I haven't actually started reading it yet, it's resting from the purchase), how much work I have done, how much work I have yet to *do*, how heavy laptops are, how much I love my electric blanket, and whether it's a good idea to drink Berrocca before bed.
God Alex Wagner has beautiful hands.
I dunno - I guess I just want to talk or maybe I just want to listen. I crashed Rosie's and Mitch's and Mark's (you don't know him) meeting today, just to sit quietly with people who like me (well, okay - maybe I just like to think they do) and drink my cup of tea.
Alex Wagner looks great in his underpants.
*drinks the Berrocca* It's always a little unsettling when you forget you drank Berrocca the very next time you pee and wonder why it's orange/red/green. (ok it's never been green I just needed another colour and didn't want to say yellow) I remember the story Richard Trenham told me once of thinking he was peeing blood but really it was all the beetroot he'd eaten the night before (and it had been a *lot* of beetroot).
So between the Berrocca and the St Johns' Wort, my pee should be rainbow-onic come morning.
I have no idea why I'm talking about this.