Jesus, hassle and devil worship
2002-09-23 || 4:39 p.m.

Alain has been hassling me. He sent me a text message that said 'have you made any decisions yet, I need to know'. Being a coward I asked Rebecca to ring him and ask him what he meant by 'decisions'. He then told her 'well, just any decisions'. Confusing.

As far as I am aware everything needs to be changed into my name - the bills that is, no chance of the mortgage being put in my name! and then we will need to agree some maintenance for Rebecca. Absolutely bugger all chance of any for me but that's life. Anyway, I'm just not happy about talking to him before I've spoken to my dad. My dad will tell me what I need to do but my dad only just got back from Italy on Friday and I didn't want to ruin his weekend by telling him. No chance of speaking to him tonight either, I've got to go to mass (great!). Thank fuck its not in St Anselms church, I'm certainly not ready to go in there yet. Rebecca has got to babysit and she is extremely peeved about that. She is trying to rally friends round at the moment to come with her.

Just as an aside on the mass thing, there is no way I'm taking communion. No way whatsoever. God, I heard the freakiest story on the radio this morning. This woman rang in to say that she was really drunk on New Year's Eve a few years back and Arsenal were not doing well. So she said 'I will sell my soul to the devil if Arsenal do the double this year'. Fucking hell. They did too!! if that was me, I would be shitting bricks.

When I was a child I was allowed to read what I wanted, no-one was bothered and I remember reading a version of Dr Faustus, and it really fucking scared me. I couldn't sleep for months, not properly. I kept getting worried that I would accidentally trade my soul to the devil. I worried about it for years. I used to get it come into my head and then I would have to sleep with the light on. The mind is a terrible thing.

Well, much as I would like to sit here reminiscing I have work to do. The dog needs a walk, the dinner needs to be cooked, washing up done, tidying a bit and I need to eat. I really do need to eat. I'm not hungry at all. I have lost a lot of weight and its not like I had it to lose in the first place. My watch will not stay on the top of my arm it keeps slipping round. My skirts do too. Someone said to me the other day, 'God you're thin'. And I am. I put a bra on yesterday and, bloody hell, I've lost weight off my bust. Can you believe that? The one place I NEVER lose weight from but always wish I did! There are some good things after all.

Just for the record I'm wearing my slightly sluttish outfit for mass tonight. I just can't stop wearing this mini-skirt and black knee socks. They look so fucking sexy. Well I think so anyway. The question is - Do I wear my 'make me feel cheap' badge?

Fuck yes!

Ps I just had to come back and edit this entry. An awful thought suddenly struck me. Maybe some of you are assuming I cannot go into St Anselms church because I got married there. I just want to reassure you I am NOT and NEVER WILL BE married. I just know it like I know that night follows day. After all what sort of man would want someone like me: someone intelligent, beautiful, funny, kind, sexy, hard working, able to cook, open minded, friendly and unshockable. Anyway, the reasons I don't want to go to St Anselms at the moment are unlikely to ever be divulged here because although I am unshockable, others are not. I know that.

If I ever get married I will get married outside with just the other person. I will be barefoot and have henna painted hands and feet.

I want nothing more than that