1. When I was eight I read a Russian children story whose morale was that people who insisted on telling their dreams should be shot because they were boring fucks. I think that's what it said anyway. Still, let me tell you that last night I dreamt that I was kissing my shrink. He didn't have a beard in the dream, either, so it was quite nice; I was smiling when I woke up.

BANG!

Still, I do wonder what it means.

2. I furiously feel like dancing salsa, but my Special Lady Friend has broken her toe kicking bricks! What are we to do? While she is mending and trying to pretend it's nothing, I'll sway about in the kitchen. Off I go. Be well!

1. About two months ago, it was; I sent her a long, long email, because we hadn't seen each other since September; I told her what I'd been doing, my plans for the next few months, my lack of good resolutions for 2007, my love life, my search for meaning and what I'd had for breakfast. How was she, still seeing the same girl, and could we meet up soonish, would she like to come over for dinner?

2. Tonight saw a reply: Must catch up soon. Call me.

Perhaps I don't deserve my friends...

1. Is it too late, bloglanders? If it is, nevermind, a happy shiny new 2007 to you anyway. I was considering joining the above demonstration against 2007 (apparently it stinks of old socks) but decided it was futile. Weren't calendars printed already? So I have given in.

2. I suppose things have got back to normal -that is to say, fairly chaotic- in the House of Y since NYE. That night I tried to get my Special Lady Friend to salsa with me ; she clearly didn't find that normal at all, but she complied with her usual good humour. Yay! I am indeed very lucky, even if she really can't salsa. Yet.
   

3. One of my presents this Christmas was a bottle of what must be my favourite wine in the world. A golden coloured, fragrant, delicate nectar, it was waiting to be packed at the bottom of the staircase. I was planning to take it back to London with me as a salsa aid, you see. Later I found a golden, fragrant puddle and a very puzzled cat with an equally fragrant front paw. What was left to do but laugh? I didn't wipe the cat's paw; who slept late the next morning.

4. In other news, all is well. Be well!