Twinkle toes

Indeed, D! As J and I were walking down the road to our local, J told me that on the BBC news website there were about 200 comments concerning whether or not Gordon Brown would be a good Prime Minister, and 2,000 about the "injustice" of the "block voting" in Europe. Oh yes, it was so much better fifteen years ago when the Serbs and Croats were killing each other rather than voting for each other in a naff singing competition! Bring back ethnic cleansing, then we might be in with a chance!
I have finally recovered from my cold and so have hit Belfast's social scene with a vengeance. Saturday night saw us gathered at H's for a Eurovision party, but we were upset that Ukraine didn't win, with their funky silver suited Su Pollard lookalike. We went out to Radio K which was just the most fun night ever, and I wore my new funky sandals to show off my newly pedicured feet. Older man drank gin and tonic after gin and tonic and got utterly pissed. I had to bow out of the evening early at about 2:30 am to escort him home. At home, I asked him how much he had drunk, and remarked he seemed to drink a lot. He began to sob, telling me he was a "good person" who would "repay me a thousand times if I had faith in him."
The girls told me seriously over bloody marys and ulster fries on Sunday that it was emotional blackmail and I had to be hard hearted, and think of myself. J told me that it was too much hard work. I know she is right. I came back home and fell asleep on my bed and proceeded to have a disturbing dream. It began with my looking desperately for a room for a lesson I was taking. I couldn't find the room anywhere. A train arrived, and I was suddenly on a river bank, in a 1970s movie with Meryl Streep, Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman. Dustin Hoffman was an evil madman who captured me in a huge fishing net and trapped me. But I thought it's ok, it's only a film, I can catch a plane. The plane failed to take off and taxied down a motorway surrounded by traffic. Then I was in a spooky cemetary with my parents, surrounded by fog. Let's take this path though I said to them, this is the safe path. But no, F, said my Dad, we'll get our feet wet on that path. Then I woke up. As I texted to L, my unconscious is very unsubtle. But I'm still loving my pedicured feet!