The February Post of Shame

I got twenty roses for Valentine's day. And a box of chocolates. It started out much like the occasion three years ago - no clues, and no idea - but the culprit eventually came forward.

If you're wondering why I've been so quiet lately, it's because my laptop finally gave up the ghost. The casing is cracked, the power cord frayed, and to be honest I had seen it coming for some months. (Of course, backing up was something I 'kept meaning to do,' so I'm still trying to resurrect it briefly. My tech support is proving slow despite the chocolate-and-biscuits bribery.) In the meantime I'm relying on a laptop borrowed from university, and desperately trying to cobble together a working computer out of bits a friend has lent me.

Oh! Remember my photoshoot with Rob May? Well the pictures are up now, check them out on this page if you're curious (find 'January Portraits').

I read out Butterflies! Do you remember me going on about a poem I was working on? Well it took three months and I was still making adjustments minutes before I performed it - damn thing just won't settle - but it went SO well and I'm really quite proud of myself. It's here if you want to read it.

Let's see, what else... we're looking for a place to live next year. Different landlord, because we are, to put it bluntly, Sick of This Shit. Also, I have loads of uni deadlines coming up so expect the obligatory breakdown post in mid-March.

If you miss me inbetween blog posts, I can do formspring / email / twitter etc. on my mobile phone, so I'm not completely disconnected (which is good or you'd find me huddled in my room around a campfire with animal hides everywhere).

Hope you're all well, sorry again for prolonged absence!

V-day Disaster

I got home from university today to find that a box of twelve red roses had been delivered. It said my name on it, but I was confused - my boy had already explicitly told me that his plans had fallen through, so I wouldn't be getting anything (but, be fair, what's one day to a man who's so thoroughly sweet and romantic and caring all the time!).

For that and other reasons, it seemed a bit odd, but it was sweet regardless. So when he called me at lunchtime, I thanked him, told him they were beautiful. "What are?" he asked, but then he did the same thing last time, so I said "The roses!"

"I didn't send you any roses..."

...

So today has mainly been me trying to work out where the heck they came from. My boy is adamant that he didn't send them, and I believe him, even though my housemates are convinced they're from him (or my parents. Hardly likely!) I've been running through a mental list, getting ever more confused by the fact that there aren't any names on it.

Seriously! Very few people know my address, nobody but Gavin has expressed an interest in a looong time, and absolutely everybody knows that I'm madly in love with him.


Ah well. What it boils down to is that somebody's wasted their money, as they won't even get a thank you unless they give me another hint. Don't suppose my loyal readership can shed any light on the situation?