Merry she goes. Or something.

I wish something would happen around here.

Sure, stuff has been happening, but stuff hasn't been happening, which is quite a distinction, let me tell you.

Stuff that's happened. Iceland blew up and emptied most of Europe's airspace, everything's kinda dusty and I cannot. fucking. breathe. because there's ash in the air and I'm all asthmatic and shit. I got a permanent job AT LAST and I'm as glad as two small shiny happy things. It's barely warm enough for barbeques but we've had two already. Baby Chunk can say my name and totalled my mum's house and then fixed it again.

I got a new phone after seven years, but I'm pretty sure I've told everyone and their mum all that.

My birthday is in twelve days. I don't know what's happening but my mum seems to have a good idea about it. Once again, I think everyone and their mum is coming. Because I'm just such a social butterfly...

I'm gonna dye my hair back to its usual colour because at the end of sixteen, I've gone grey. I'm not kidding. And it's not just my hair either. I woke up this morning and my skin was grey and purple. I don't know whether that was because I couldn't breathe or because I'm usually at work when the sun makes an appearance.

So that's pretty much all that's happened. I wish I had as much to say as my dad, for example, who has been texting me at 1.30am every night telling my about his day (he's on tour at the moment) and other than it being absolutely awesome, it makes me look boring. Though he assures me that tripping over in B&Q and falling face-first into a tent isn't something everybody does.