Ah, the joys of seeing the love of your life sit there with smoke coming out of his ears is not to be frowned upon. Yesterday we went to the cinema and watched Skyfall, the latest Bond, and then we finished the evening off at an Indian restaurant where my man accepted my dare and ordered Phall.

I think seeing him, the ultimate consumer of hot spicy food, sweat was deeply satisfying in a way that makes me question if there’s not a sub-current of pain and domination in our relationship. My smug smile about his discomfort maybe makes me toy with darker urges? Or it serves him right for being stupid enough to order Phall even though he’s tried it before, and knows what it is.

Other than the risk of fire from that beautiful mop of hair on his head, it was a good night out, and we didn’t come home until nearly one in the morning, even though today is a school day. Which I’m lamenting as I sit here with little to do and with almost an hour until the next lesson starts. All these minutes, and I’m spending it in the common room writing on my blog.

Food was horrid today, so I’m hungry too. I’m not sure what they served, but the stench of it is awful, and the alternatives have been polluted by the smell. It’s some sort of cabbage dish with grey minced meat in the middle, and some yoghurt sauce. The salads next to it looks alarmingly tired and bland, and probably smells of cabbage.


I may not say this aloud in public, because I have certain standards that I must maintain, but it actually feels quite all right to be back in school and hear what the girls have been up to during the half-terms. Mostly it seems they’ve been sticking their heads down various toilets whilst intoxicated, sobbing over boys, or generally being up to no good. Nice.

Which also makes me feel a bit distant from them lot because I seem to have everything sorted all the time. No drunken debauchery, no staying up to four am obsessing about why some guy doesn’t text, then sobbing into pillows about the fact that when they did text, it could be read in a thousand different ways.

Abbie, for instance, has been having a bit of difficulty with his boyfriend. Ben has finally started talking to me again – so maybe he got over himself about something that happened months ago and which made things cool and distant between us. Abbie, Ben, me and the girls became a huge flash mob earlier, sitting in the hall blocking the path for everyone until one of the teachers came and said that we had to move.

But that’s not unusual. They usually send some messenger to tell us to lower the volume, or risk raising the dead in the cemeteries of Edinburgh. Yeah, it feels good to be back in school, with all the drama-queening going on all the time.


Both Mum and dad are coming to England for my birthday next year. Which presents a bit of a problem, as well as additional costs, because I’m going to have to have two birthdays. One quiet and proper and stuffy affair with the parents, and then another for my friends where I raid every damned pub and bar in town, and have to crawl home.

That day will be a success if I remember none of it. But with mum and dad here, I might have to actually behave. It’s no fun behaving. Life is much more up and adventurous with a little misbehaving at times.