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Things are happening too fast for me to keep a record of. Don't you ever get that feeling sometimes that too many things that you want to remember are just passing you by at a rate too fast, faster than you can consciously etch them in your memory?

I had an eventful weekend, starting with fantastic shopping at Birmy's BullRing, where i blew more than a 100 pounds, including paying an exorbitant 8 pounds (?!!!?!) for parking. thinking about it, i could have bought at least one decent top with the money i spent on parking and petrol. sigh.
but anyway, shopping was amazing. i bought three skirts including an absolutely amazing lovely skirt from mango. shoes, tops, more summer skirts, and a set of pyjamas! okay, shant go into too much frivolous details. point was i got really dehydrated while shopping, had to drive home, hardly had any rest, forced myself to go out for Soul Nation at the union...had promised many people i'd be there. drank the usual drinks.which wasn't very many. and when i woke up the next morning, i really felt like i was going to die, and i'm not kidding. i went to the bathroom after what seemed like eternity, gathering up all the energy left in my over-driven, unhealthy and pathetic state of a body, and almost vommitted all my guts out. yes, not a pretty picture i know. but that's the extent of how horrible it was. made some porridge after that. the first in two years of living in england that i've made that. mince pork porridge...wow, that brings back memories of young teenage days when my ex-maid, Imelda,(okay, i should say domestic helper, not maid, that's the term we use in my country though and yes i know it's offensive i try not to use it here anymore) would make watery mince pork porridge for me and bring it to my room with light soy sauce (because i like salty food) and a hot mug of water. one always thinks more about home when we're ill...

anyway, tried to make food. and then gathered the very very last remnants of my energy to go for the Ibiza party which i was podium dancing at. wanted to cancel, felt bad. three others had pulled out. but i'm glad i went, kind of. music was fantastic, amazing, really. with laser beams and spotlights on us podium dancers it was unbelievable. there were many creepy men about who kept asking me if they could get on stage with me to dance and i was like oh just get lost. i didn't want to be rude but with drunk english blokes you have to be rude sometimes to get the point across. but it's fair though, it's a union rule that unless you have a backstage dance pass, you can't get on the podiums. so even if a guy i fancy comes along, i wouldn't be able to allow him on even if i wanted to.

anyway, the amazing music was pretty much what kept me going despite my running temperature and a very sore throat. and in the last 10 minutes, we were all grooving mightly on the podiums/stages when suddenly, at 5 minutes before 2, there was a fire alarm. we couldn't even hear it. for a moment i thought i had been temporarily totally deafened. the music stopped, it was such an anti-climax. but then again, we already had a blast so it didn't matter.

went home, collapsed, couldn't sleep because i felt so horribly ill. got up, went for mass, went to rehearsals... was beginning to feel like a total zombie. and then the highlight of my day came when i watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. (see next post)