i use my life as a game of chicken

I spent Sunday with Alex Turton, or Alex Le Clezio as I call him, and it was lovely. I get uneasy when people actually just like me, as a person, with no ulterior motives, because it's unbelievable, but he apparently does. We went dusty book-shop finding, and only found oxfam, bu he did not know how much of a fail that was and happily brought books and I then found Mervyn Peake's 'A Book of Nonsense', and as anyone who knows me well would expect, I got entirely over excited about it. It was only 99p and is now joining a ticket to watch Ani Difranco in london this January in the pile of presents for my brother. I'm just uncertain whether to give it to him this weekend as his 21st birthday present (the ticket is definitely being given) or to keep the book back for Christmas. I might have to do that, it's much more sensible, but it's irritating because it would have been a nice suprise as he already knows about the ticket. Meh.

And then after I had danced for joy we walked to the quay. The Quay in Exeter has these big stony man made walls after a couple of pubs and they have these big old cellary things at the bottom of them, presumably previously used for boats (I thought maybe for horses but apparently people wouldn't need horses there. I think they would for barges.), but they've all been gentrified and lovelyfied and most of them are little shops but one of them is a cafe which is all nooks and cushions and Alice in Wonderland tea pots and amazing cushions and fabric roofs and the bathrooms have sparkly purple paint on the walls and there are beautiful pictures everywhere.

Alex brought us coffees and a slice of cake to share and I tried to take really small bites but that ended up with me eating very small amounts very quickly so I don't know if I achieved my aim of making him eat more with his very big bites eaten slowly. Hm.

We then went outside and Alex got cold and it was shivery and cold cold cold so we linked arms and huddled our way past the Cathedral and to Sainsburies where we got overexcited on the innocent smoothie deals (2 for 1!!!! on the big boxes! this meant that you could get TWO for 2.97ish when normally it's 2 for a fiver, annnnnnnd, that's even better a deal than Sainsbury own brand which is two for three pounds. Yay.) and then about the cider and whisky/port (me/him) deals. It waas awesome. We scared everyone by going crazy over certain brands - someone walked around the corner and I was singing a lullaby to a bottle of Highland Park and he was stroking a bottle of Port. Apparently it was nice port.

Then we had to carry all this liquid home and it hurt our backs and he put on my coat because he only had a t-shirt and a scarf whereas I had a scarf, hat, gloves, jumper and coat. He looked funny in my coat.

When I got home as I was trying to open the door a bottle fell out of my bag and broke on the concrete and it was one of the nicer ciders I had brought and I remembered that I have no money and I felt like crying.

Then I cleaned it up and went and practised for the open mic night with Matt and Emma. It was good. We're now called Matt Blythe and The Mob. I guess I'm The Mob. I'm okay with that.

On a final note, the open mic night went well, and afterwards one of the waiters gave me a free brownie and I had a moment of pure joy and mentioned that it was better than sex.

Apparently this could be taken as being offensive to various menfolk.

Woops.