I went to three parties yesterday and ate far too much; maybe I will explode. People talk about their television viewing at parties "Who's going to win X Factor? Well, it's either Molly or Ashley but they're both dead. Anne Widicombe stands a good chance." Has this information been Wikileaked? At this point I tend to wander off in search of another drink or a student to slap.
I find it very odd being greeted by people I don't know very well with "Gosh, haven't you lost weight!" This implies that I was vastly fat before - well I was actually but not so so so vastly. Personally, I would just quietly seethe at their success with envy and hatred unless they were a real mate in which case I'd give them cupcakes. Anyway, with the amount of food I tucked away yesterday I think there might be a bit of a comments shortage from now on.
To those of you who greeted me with "You look good. Are you having an affair?"
Nice idea but Mr Smith might not approve.
I am stuck in an apron factory today. Sorry if you don't get one for Christmas; this is Jane's fault for hosting such an excellent party last night which has given me a bit of a hangover and hampered production considerably. Then there are my calendars; there will be no summer in 2011. You will jump from May straight to September thus making the year much easier to manage. Sorry if your birthday falls at this time - choose another one.
Claudia, I gave your Christmas cupcakes, complete with sparkle and tiny sugar holly, to Jane whose mother hasn't broken her arm. This is because I am a bitch. OK, I'll make you some more.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
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