Sister is now flying. Flap flap. Had rather a horrid drive to the airport in rush hour traffic with too little petrol and a grumpy and unpleasant father. The usual. Somehow it nearly always ends up being me who tries to keep everyone sane and on speaking terms. Rather than yelling/crying/gibbering terms. Dad can be such a prick. Just doesn’t get that it totally wasn’t the time or place to get stressed and pick a fight with mum, Helen quite obviously (or so I thought) didn’t need that added emotional shit to deal with. I’m pretty pissed off with the old man. And at the same time I can see why he acts that way, and I know that a lot of the time he thinks that Helen doesn’t care about him. Which of course is bullshit, but it’s hardly my place to try and sort that pile of steaming shite out. Oh god, why do I even bother…
did you know that this week is "Fuck Nike Week"? Unofficially of course. There have been reports of some interesting stencilled messages around Christchurch. Good for whoever is behind them, I like vandalism with a cause. ;-)
Ses called me last night. Ses, for those of you who don’t know, is a lovely boy I met briefly on his last day in NZ (bloody typical, but that’s another story). He lives in England. And he’s nice. Nice. Perhaps you are aware of how I feel about ‘nice’? I won’t elaborate here. Was sweet of him to call, it’d been ages since we last spoke. I’m sure he had more of an accent than he used to. Sounded more African. Weird.
My head hurts from eating too many green and yellow jellybeans, I’m going to post this and get the flock out of here.