Little more suck please

Tuesday August 27th. 01:14. 

I should be asleep. I am not.

This is because, despite me trying to lull my brain into a lower level of activity with a nice warm bath, and some therapeutic shaving - it had decided that I am wide awake and alert at this time of the morning.

The good thing, I guess is that I have chosen to use this time instead to blog away. Having not blogged for a couple of days you must all be wondering what's happening in the exciting life of me.

For the irony impaired, please get someone else to explain to you the meaning of the previous paragraph.

The excitement this weekend ? Well, being a bank holiday weekend, and it being of reasonable weather, and there being a music festival in Portsmouth - the 'Victorious Festival' no less. I was considering taking up my work friend's suggestion and going.

Now, I have to admit, normally the idea of camping in a field, where the mud is actually made of everyone's urine is not really my idea of fun. I like music, just not enough to want to stand, eat, or sleep in such conditions. I'd not be able to pack sufficient supplies of antibacterial wipes.

None-the-less. I digress. I'd thought about going along to said local festival, which wasn't in a field, and was instead in the historic dockyard. Even talked myself into how much fun it would be. (I normally hate anything that involves lots of other people, and certainly lots of other people having fun - I'm going to return to this statement later).

I of course put the idea to Chloe, my not quite resident teenager. She declared that she wouldn't mind the idea of going to a festival, but not with me. She would want to camp out, and dance with her friends. I said that I could dance, to which she stated that I could not, and should not anywhere near her. Ever.

The thing about camping though surprised me. Having turned down repeatedly the idea that we go camping. Again she explained the difference between her camping with her friends, and camping with her (already camp) father.

Scrub that one then.

Why do I not like going places that there are lots of other people ? Well, maybe it centres on two things. In my life, usually when lots of other people have been enjoying themselves, it's at my expense. Other times, I am just sat in the corner, 'not getting it'.

I just really don't feel comfortable with large crowds of people. There's some innate fear I think that at any moment they will turn into a baying mob, complete with pitchforks and chase me.

Anyway. After much deliberation I spent two hundred and sixty pounds on a new vacuum cleaner. The Dyson DC50 Animal, for those of you that want to be specific. (Question to self, why am I suddenly taken to writing as if there's actually anyone reading this ? - idiot). I was worried that I should get something with more guts, (mistyped that nearly to say 'more guys' - that's an entirely different blog entry), but the models concerned seemed much older and, frankly looked ugly.

The DC50 looks nice, packs a punch, is cute. AND the guy selling it to me complimented me on my Star wars / Banksie bag. I can't believe how much it's taken up from the carpets in the flat. Even what it got out of my mattress was embarrassing. I have to say, it's a real pleasure to use. I actually wanted to find more places to vacuum so that I could use it more.