Its more girl trouble than boy trouble.

James is cool. We spent all day together yesterday. He gives me free weed and he calls himself a "left-wing nazi", so obviously we get on like a house on fire. We talk crap about the system and he puts up with me pawing fawningly over his tattoos.

Wait, that makes him sound like a lazy, inked drug-pusher, he's really not. Well, he is inked and he might be lazy for all I know, but he doesn't touch anything but weed.

Oh man, I'm seeing a pot-head.

I still feel slightly like a cow.

Portia is really championing it though, which surprised me a bit, I thought she'd be against it. I finally picked up the phone and called Sara this morning, she didn't say a single word about James. The phonecall was short and had a really tense undertone.

Suddenly I feel nervous about my birthday party in a couple of weeks when we'll all be in the same room. Despite Portia's offer to punch Sara if she says something. Bless my sisters little violent cotton socks. I'm not sure how James feels about it all, he just said he'd be there. I told him that he doesn't have to come and I mean it, he's great, but I don't need a hip attachment. Not that he'd ever be hip-attached, I still get the feeling he's as free as the wind.

And I'm totally okay with that. I don't know whats happened to me.


Nothing else to report. Except... how the hell do you get blood out of white cotton sheets? I tried washing them by hand, but it hasn't helped at all. I think my favourite bed sheets are only suitable for the bin now. My body has some serious timing issues.