OMG, Bleak House. *cries so much*. I did actually cry. Ii haven't cried this much since Casanova was on TV, I've got to say. I can't believe Dickens was so mean. I HATE Dickens. For those of you who don't watch it, poor, poor Esther (who is wonderful and kind and has enormous blue eyes) got the smallpox; and she recovered, thank god (I think I'd still be crying if she died), but she's hideously scarred and disfigured (sob). And evil Ada who doesn't even deserve it is still all fresh-faced. I hate you, Charles Dickens. Esther's so good and lovely, and she didn't deserve that at all. Still, I reckon Jarndyce still loves her, and I still love her, dammit.

Watched the new series of Little Britain, too. It's surprisingly good - the second serie grossed me out totally, but this one's good (only one gross thing in it = the incontinent old lady in the supermarket, and even that didn't gross me out that much, just made me need the loo!). I have Sevastian LOVE. Because really, if you had the PM in your control, wouldn't you force him to featherdust stuff wearing only a leather posing pouch? Maybe that's just me, but think of the pictures in The Sun afterwards!

Have only tonight, now. I've been saying that to myself all week - in the day, I count down the hours, but at night, I count down the nights until I won't be alone and your arms will be around me. I hate waking up by myself, these days. But less than 24 hours, so I'm happy. I don't know how I'm going to get through tomorrow for the excitement. I mean - sitting in History? Imagine that. Arguing with bloody Steve about hypocritical-ness, and Socialism and Margaret Thatcher, and all the time I'll just be waiting for my train to come in.

The NaNo is a beautiful, beautiful thing. 31k, Ev, I am soooo on your tail. I really must do the Judge Brack essay for poor Jonathan, I never seem to do him any work any more. And now is probably the best time, as I'm drunk and can write anything! I should get drunk to write more often, I type like an electric bunny! I did get completely slaughtered for GCSE Music, and look what happened there. A* grade, I think so. I blame Ev. I secretly blame Ev for everything, really. And want to hug her for indirectly changing my life in the most wonderful way. Talking to Paul at the moment makes me realise how wonderfully, fantastically lucky I really am. This time last year, I thought the horrible, black days would never end, I almost knew I'd be like this for the rest of my life. And here I am, totally not. Every cloud has a silver lining, but in my case, it's gold.

I saw the remainder of the orange, yellow and red roses today. They're wilting, but they're still beautiful, and they just remind me so much of you. I don't know why I ever thought I should get you white ones. Yes, I'm drunk, but it only makes me able to say the things I want to say sober, but check myself in. I'm not going to check myself, any more. Somebody said to me that one should live each day as if it were your last, but that's too final. Instead, I'd rather live each day as if it were the most perfect day of my life; and the funny thing is, all the days from henceforth seem set to be just that.