the sun did not shine
2003-06-17 || 5:49 p.m.

There's this family that live round the corner from me and I just so want to be a member. Every week, when the bin men come, they leave out the most intriguing array of rubbish - broken toys, old kitchen things - the other week they even had a whole door there, leaning up against the wheelie bin. And every single day their washing line is full of different sized clothes. When you walk past strange noises come from the windows. It just seems like they really must live life.

My kids at school today insulted the great god Marc; they said he looked like Ozzy fucking Osbourne! Jesus Christ!

I had no idea, not even in my wildest dreams, that I would spend my adult life saying stuff like 'if you don't put your bottom on your seat I won't let you be a cloud'.

I have utilised my prayer table cloths to the fullest - all of them have a part in my assembly. I'm still pissed off about the criticism that I didn't say a prayer in my Native American assembly. So this time their poems they wrote are going to be the prayers. Actually, none of my assembly is going to be explained, the words and actions will speak for themselves. That's my defence and I'm fucking sticking to it.

All day long I've felt sad, and I just haven't been able to stop thinking about two of the saddest days I ever had.

When Bex was born I was really ill. For three nights they would not let me have her in with me because I was near to dying. Finally on the Friday night they put her in her see-through cot in my room with me. She woke me at about 1am crying. I got up. I fed her, cuddled her, changed her nappy, cuddled her, talked to her, cuddled her and then put her back down to sleep. But still she cried. So I did it all again. But still she cried. So I rang for the night nurse. I thought maybe she was ill, I was concerned. The night nurse came, I said 'she won't stop crying ...'

She did not let me finish.

She whisked her away tutting as she went. I spent the rest of the night crying. Your hormones are fucking mad on the third day anyway.

Two years ago me, Bex and Alain went on holiday for the last time before me and Alain split up. On the final night we went for a meal. During the night I was awoken with the most awful tummy pains I've ever had. I have never been in so much pain. Alain shouted at me to shut up, he punched me, he shouted at me some more. I was clutching onto him asking him to help me, to please get me a doctor, so he hit me again. Then he stormed out and said he was sleeping downstairs.

All I wish for is someone who would be the opposite of that.