My dear old mum is taking me off to the seaside. Hooray! I haven't been on holiday since 1995, when I was 16 and too busy sulking and thinking about kissing Jarvis Cocker to have a good time. The last time I saw the sea was during an ill-advised daytrip to Skegness a few years back (for our non English cousins, Skegness is a hellhole of a tacky seaside resort with holidays camps and such), where I met a girl who was going out with a friend of mine. She kept telling me about all the infidelities she had committed. Very awkward. Anyway, the Matriarch and I are off to Cornwall to stay in a B&B on the cliff top. I'm super excited as a friend of ours moved there years ago and we haven't seen her since. Also, going on holiday is a wonderful excuse to buy new books and lots of toiletries in cute, small bottles. I will get my mum drunk, which is very simple (a pint of Caffrey's if you spot us at the bar) and we'll paddle in the sea and search out second hand shops and I'll smile at cute surf boys (although things were easier when there were cute serf boys, at least they knew their place). PeetSketchPete mentioned getting rid of collections of stuff. I am going through the same trauma at the moment as I have to move house soon. I've already sorted through my make up and got rid of loads of nail polish. Then I threw away some sheets covered in hot rock burns (the ex's, not mine, I must add). And while the ex got custody of the garlic crush and the potato masher when he left, I got custody off his bong, so I'm doing the responsible thing and giving it to a 15 year old friend of my brother. My flat is such a mess that whenever I move anything I get a sneezing fit from the dust so I'm finding it difficult to motivate myself. I did find a recording of Top of The Pops 1982, which was interesting. Orange Juice featured, ripping it up and starting again (which is what I've already done with this post three times). The most horrible thing about all the moving business is I'm such a hoarder, but I just can't seem to justify transporting all this junk from one place to another. Who needs a note that was sent in 1997? Who needs a packet of anti depressants that were prescribed three years ago, and not even to me? And all those photos that were taken in bad light, of people whose names I forget, what am I going to do with those? Moving is like therapy: it forces you to go through all the mess, reassess it and chuck out what is weighing you down. And it's difficult to tell which one is more expensive. The recent posts have been great and there's been lots of stuff that I've read where I've thought "oooh, that's interesting. I'll mention that", but I've forgotten most of it. I too have to find a job, but I'm not too bothered as it doesn't have to be a proper job and I do know how to pull a pint of Guinness and do the shamrock in the top. To all those that have graduated, all I can say is Well Done, and thank God I don't have to for two years. I've also liked the spate of first time posters, hello to you all. Oh, I got dragged into a shop by thin and rich friends the other day to look at over priced "ironic" tat. My fave was a long rack of indentical T-shirts that said FUCK FASHION. Mass produced anarchy: I love it. Anyway, whilst there I saw a T-shirt that said I *HEART* PF. So, all Pine Fox fans get down there quick. Someone mentioned Simon Armitage: could anyone recommend something by him? I read a poem of his today and it was wonderful. No word as yet from the Poetry Parrot, his creative juices have dried up. All contributions and musingss greatfully received. Llaura Llew's post about Greek stuff made me think of The Secret History by Donna Tartt, which I think I'll take on holiday with me. Intellect, debauchery, incest, greek mythology and murder. What more could a girl ask for? Except a gazillion pounds (sterling) and an effective cure for eczema, of course. I'm off for a work meal tonight, if making tea for the homeless and vulnerable on a volunteer basis two mornings a week counts as "work". Think of me, as I'll be thinking of you as I spill dinner down my top and laugh too loudly. Love Heiress Madeleine, Lady Lolly xxxx PS Big shakes to Llaurra Llew, my kitty Big Stu, who is still lovely Will, who hassled until I posted And just about everyone else. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. 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