The wine is disgusting but acceptable, largely because it is free

Sometimes I don't know which is worse; the hopelessly depressive or the shameless optimist.

Other times, I know exactly which one I'd least like to be stuck in a room with. I just spent ten minutes of my life fending off "u just have to listen to ur heart not ur head", "follow ur heart n evrything will b alright" statements regarding a previous relationship of mine. Back up, didn't I discuss this with you when I visited Sussex in June? You know, the relationship which I completely threw myself into trying to save? I put every ounce of emotional strength I had into that tragic trainwreck of a situation! I made myself completely vulnerable and was (probably justifiably) destroyed for it in the most heartless of ways. So shut the fuck up, ridiculous facebook user, and don't try to tell me that things happen if you want them badly enough. There's a reason I usually disable the Chat option.

(There's also a reason I made a blog as well, one that doesn't involve "using it as a rant station". But really, judgemental people and the blindly naiive have got to go.)

In other less soul destroying news, my alleged "novel" has lost even more of it's resemblance to fiction with lines such as "My drink tastes of overdraft" (Being poor can be quite inspiring but I feel like a massive hypocrite for mocking Joe when I found out the backbones of his novels were more or less true stories), my housemate Ollie has left on a five week babysitting-job in France and had already secured a coffee date with a gorgeous French boy before she even left the airport (She is some sort of wizard; surely these things only happen in films?) and we are discussing an idea for a collaborative Manchester Blogging Site. I have listened to the entire Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe audiobook and plan to investigate the infamous Deaf Institute tomorrow with remaining housemate Becca. We lead a rock and roll life.