there's nothing prettier than a pretty girl digging a heart-shaped hole in the ground

Still unemployed. Funky bookshops and intimidating pubs do not want me. At the start of the month my Dad was very forthcoming about a chunk of "rainy day"/"emergency" money my family had put aside for me. Now, when I quite need some, he's being remarkably vague. Have they spent my nest egg?



Yesterday I went to a Poetry Reading Event in the Northern Quarter. Becca won a vintage Coronation Street Mug and we wandered around Canal Street with two guys we met at the reading. One was uncomfortably drunk and laughing to himself. Another acted like Stephen Fry on crack. It was fabulous.



My last wisdom tooth is coming through and my gums are infected. My mouth will open approximately three centimetres and then gives up. I am eating a lot of food that can be swallowed without chewing. A trip to the dentist cost me thirty pounds and I nearly cried infront of the receptionist. The mouthwash makes me retch. We'll laugh about this later.