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10:58 a.m. - 2002-10-28
run doggy run!
Going to the dogs is one of those things you should only do once in a while - not so often you take it for granted, so it loses it's charm, but with a big enough gap in between visits for you to remember all over again, each time you go, how much fun it is (and so's not to lose too much money as well!).

Of course, it wouldn't have been half as much fun if I'd gone there on my own; if there wasn't someone standing next to me cheering for number five and turning to me with a mad smile on his face screaming "I've got twenty quid on it!" as his dog goes belting past the stands; or if there was an empty seat instead of a friend going "bollocks" and screwing up a losing tote ticket.

(Incidentally, I think this was why I had such a good time at such a dodgy university -the people were wicked). So yeah, go down the 'Stow once in a while, and bet heavily on a dog called Climb Max.

On Sunday afternoon Martin came round to boo's house. They played PS2 and I finished reading my book. I don't know what it was, but I suddenly felt a long way away from boo. I can't explain it other than to say sometimes I feel him right next to me, and other times it's like there's this enormous chasm between us - unexplained, unspoken, unknown. I mentioned it to him before I left, to come home and be alone (because even with Emma there, I'm really alone), to sort out my wardrobe, pull out all the clothes I never wear for the charity bins, to listen to Richard Ashcroft and try to work out how my minidisc is supposed to download music off the computer (still don't geddit). Boo didn't really get what I meant either, but I don't think it matters.

I haven't been to the gym for three weeks. I tried to get up early to go this morning, but I just couldn't do it. I'll go tonight if Claire cancels our plans (as she often does).

I want to find a website that is the musical equivalent of bookcrossing...

 

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