Am sitting dripping on things after my shower and listening to the wind. I love the sound of wind and rain at night time, it helps me sleep. Or helps me think if I'm feeling insomniacky. Which I really am at the moment. Sleep seems to evade me in favour of extreme thinking. And I keep having weird and stupid dreams about the past. Or rather, things I should have dreamed about in the past. I think my dreams are still catching up with the last year of events!

Just watched the first episode of Bleak House. Dickens translates really well to television serieses. (Series'? Seri? Seriseseseses?) I feel terribly, deeply sorry for poor Mr Guppie. Esther was a total bitch to refuse him, although she does have certain endearing qualities. Or maybe I just think she does because she has big blue eyes and I'm having withdrawal symptoms. But eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, tomorrow! 'Sank 'eavenne, as Maurice Chevalier would say.

Is Maurice Chevalier still alive? I hope he is, as I rather liked him.

I'm so happy at the moment. In all the best/worst (depending on your point of view) sappy sorts of ways. I shall be putting flowers in my hair and singing and riding off into the sunset in no time if I'm not kept a careful eye on.

I did a painting earlier. It started out as a picture of Lauren Bacall from the film poster of To Have and Have Not, but then it sortof did a dramatic change in the middle, and now it looks more like Frida Kahlo than anything. I quite like it, though. I don't even know why I was inspired to do a painting at all. See the sappiness! Painting! I shall find myself procuring kittens and crooning at them next.

Must do some packing for tomorrow. Although I could really do it in the morning, as I don't have to leave until twelve, I feel like doing it tonight. It feels like it's bringing tomorrow closer in a way. I'm going to do what parents always tell children to do on Christmas Eve - 'the sooner you're in bed asleep the sooner tomorrow will come'. I'm going to work by that philosophy and get an early night.

And I have ditched the heated rollers, with many a scornful glance, and a singing of 'Bye Bye Mein Liebe Herr' from Cabaret, although definitely not accompanied by a sexy chair dance in suspenders. They don't deserve it! I shall do some plaits, and hope I turn out gorgeously wavy and don't have to ring a panic call to Neil tomorrow asking if he does house calls! (And if he has a makeup artist and a surgical corset on hand). I wish the God which has been so obliging with my Plot would lend a hand in making me look hot as well. Probably too much to ask, though.

My picture of Lizzy is staring at me accusingly. She has no right, I gave her more buttons, a skirt and a lace collar today, she should be grateful! Probably annoyed I didn't do a watercolour of her, and ended up with the Frida-ish girl instead.

Right! List-making! Hair plaiting! Bed! Tossing and turning and growing excitement!

KISS ME, HARDY!

(Really love that phrase at the moment, I think it's a great way of finishing things off.)

And also, kiss me, blog, I'll be away for the weekend!