Sinister: there's always somebody saying something

[Rachel Playforth]

oh look, archel's back. half of you have no idea of the world-shaking
significance of that, do you? and the other half are perhaps going 'archel?
yeah, that sounds a bit familiar. interested in poetry, knits scarves (but
then that applies to many sinibods it seems), never liked her much to tell
you the truth.'

oh well,  i'm here anyway, all pootered up and ready to go wherever the
sinister lurve train is headed in 2001.

i seem to have avoided glasgow on the one year when everyone else was there.
instead i spent xmas and new year down in brighton; my presents included an
embarrassing amount of bagpuss merchandise, some truly massive tea mugs, and
a scottish bloke with a cold (upon whom i therefore got to inflict twee
knitwear of my choice, so it wasn't all bad.) we spent hours, or it may have
been days, in an improvised igloo in my absurdly cold house getting through
audrey hepburn and hitchcock box sets. and eating chocolate. also i finished
knitting my latest scarf.

now i am back at work and as overcome with ennui as everyone else. oh, and i
will never forgive jeepster for forcing me to buy (i can hardly say the
words) a christmas album. not buying christmas albums is one of the
fundamental principles by which i live my life.

meanwhile other people talked.

Isabel wrote:
>The older I get the more I see that other people hold one special person in
a
>very high regard. Not to say that anyone that comes along after isn't
>worthy...but you have to consider too that someone is holding that person
in
>the same regard that youre holding your person...and no one is getting
>anywhere.
and she is indeed a wise woman. i am in a bizarre love triangle with my two
best friends, a romantic unit as of a few weeks ago, one of whom happens to
be my First Love (and as you know i do not use upper case lightly), and the
other of whom is my housemate. so it's not like i can avoid seeing them
together. adolescent green eyed monsters are holding rowdy parties in my
soul, despite (and in no way threatening - just in case our mutual friends
get worried) the beloved scottish bloke.  i wish there was a b&s song about
my angst, but i can't find one (answers on a postcard...) i fear it's more a
job for hefner. or cinerama. or pulp. or, god forbid, coldplay.

on a less crap note, i wanted to mention that i still have a
poetry/fiction/reviews webzine (see below) just waiting for submissions.
it's really good. and it's sponsored by ally cook (well practically.) and
reading some of your posts there is talent there just waiting to be
tapped... diseased talent, but still talent.

big hugs to all my old sinifriends and everyone else who i've yet to
discover is a gorgeous, fascinating person.

archel xxx

ps: idleberry wrote:
>the Camp Belle and Sebastian
and i laughed.

***************************************
Rachel Playforth
'She may not be famous, but she's right' - Homer Simpson

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