a.funnytimeofyear.com

The new (& final) issue of 28mm is out. Check out my contribution here.

I like the sea.
And I’m pretty sure that she likes me.

You can always rely on the sea. She’s not going anywhere soon.
She’ll always be there on time, without excuses.
She’s not like a friend who lets you down time and time again.
Or a boyfriend that makes false promises.
She won’t say that she misses you if she
Doesn’t,
Or give you love, only to take it back again.
She’ll always be true to you
And tell you what you want to hear -
That rushing noise that soothes your soul
And calms the quaking in your chest.
She’ll leave you to your own devices.
When you’re busy, she’ll wait patiently
Occupied by her ever lasting rhythms.
She’ll ask you to shed your tears into her skin,
Bathe you in the moonlight of your indecision.
She’ll never hurt you,
She’ll just listen,
As you pass her by.

Last night I looked like Whitney Houston without the crack addiction (i.e fucking damn fine ass sexy). I’m going out to dinner and then going to watch the sunset with J tonight. I feel like a lady of leisure lately. I’m loving it (cue McDonalds commercial).

(Rowena, St. James’ Park, London.)

Lucy Lesbian has taken to cooking me dinner, A & I drink wine and dance like whirlwinds under the freckled night sky. We walk for hours in the cold, past the cruising ground for a quick game of Cruise Tease, and back again past the sea. My chicken nuggets are slightly on the well done side and I stare up at the sky, taste the light rain on my tongue.

Attack of the orange afro

dreams about drowning / swallowing salt water / the taste of you in my mouth / hope & fears / starvation / tears & travels.

Lucy Lesbian is lying beside me, her eyes wide as she stares into mine. We both lay curled in the foetal position, facing each other on the sofa bed, cushions against our faces. She sighs. “I’ve decided,” she starts. “You’re my new boyfriend.” I nod in agreement, unquestioning. Her Geordie accent is soft and I curl up in the warmth of her company, just listening to her as she talks, interjecting with a mmhmm every so often.

J is lying beside me in his bed. I am fully clothed in stiff jeans and last night’s t-shirt. I stretch my arm out, put it on his chest. I watch it rise and fall with his breath and he falls asleep quickly. I stay awake, mesmerised by the rhythm of his breathing. I close my eyes, listen to the sound of smooth inhalation. I watch, just watch, listening to the sound of the wind hurling outside.

A and I were listening to Joss‘ new album last night, dancing away. And we always laugh at these two specific lyrics, because they relate directly/literally to my last relationship;

Spitting in my eyes and I still see

and

You’re sniffing on snow when you’re feeling low

Funny, that.

I’ve got these three prints as a set at 5×7. Someone can have all three for £10/$18/15euros (including shipping). Drop me a line; d at funnytimeofyear dot com (or alternatively from this contact page). First come first served!

(click for an enlargement)

Last night;

Free roast dinners (thanks, hubby!), good company, burning in my throat (shotshots!), dancing, ex-boyfriends, beautiful friends, happiness, drag queen ex-boyfriends (!), tequila, booty shakin’, pole dancin’, hip grindin’, tonsil tacklin’, all round fucking fab hotness, bed time with J, hugs and spoonage, watching people sleep, the perfect end to a wonderful evening.

Today;

Weary awakening, unsteady feet (first steps), fresh sea air, Patti Smith and smiles, polaroids!, postal packages, chicken sandwiches and again, amazing friends to help me through the nasty bits.

Tonight?

Scandinavian ladies unite! Swedish, Norweigan, Icelandic! And then me.. the only (but spectacular) Brit! Roll on the crazy ladies!

Happy October!