Isn't it a pity

I quite like Valentine's Day - I love that, despite how busy everyone can feel, it prompts people to make thoughtful, unique and loving gestures for those who meant most to them. And, no, I'm not talking about the people who grab petrol-station flowers on the way home; I'm judging them.

But, tonight, I feel positively seething, the result of some rather thoughtless comments from a supposed friend. This Valentine's day, when I told him that, no, I wasn't really looking for any guy, he had the audacity and social obliviousness to say, "Oh, that's so sad. You really should" before launching into some trite how I needed to find myself at the man of my dreams asap.

Should? According to who exactly? I'm completely baffled as to what this comment was supposed to achieve. Either, I'm really not looking for anyone, in which case I couldn't care less of what I 'ought' to be doing. Or, if it did bother me that I didn't have someone to share things with, how is such a judgement comment in any way constructive? What was he expecting? That I'd turn and say, "You're right! If only someone had mentioned my inadequacies sooner!"

It made me so angry that I inhaled a whole portion of tiramisu. This was not in the plan. What made me more angry was I was so blind-sighted by this supposed sympathy or encouragement or however he chose to delude himself that I didn't have a good reply for this horrible comment. I just smiled. Urgh! I wish I'd told him how rude he was being, that he should focus on his own life rather than mine and that his alleged pity was even worse than a barefaced insult.

Cose Segrete

Just having a moment to myself listening to Einaudi's La Nascita Della Cose Segrete. I absolutely love this music and its utter calm. It's all been a bit hectic these last few days so nice to have a moment of stillness.

First drama of the week: my water bottle spilled over in my bag. I popped over to the library for a bit of early morning reading and opened my back to find what amounted to a lagoon. Slightly confused, I ran back outside and emptied my bag onto the street (cue confused looks from people in the square as a veritable waterfall gushes out of my bag). Next, I pick up my sopping phone and, whilst wiping it on my hoodie in despair, somehow managed to dreg up some elementary physics knowledge that water + electrical current = nightmare. So, after whipping out the battery, I rush off to the fountain (no pun intended) of all knowledge (t'internet) and find many a foolish bedfellow, all wondering what to do now that their blackberry has gone for a bit of a dip. Lots of talk of putting blackberries in rice, but, finding this all a bit too much like a Delia recipe, I choose to leave it alone to dry for three days. It honestly took a will of steel not to take a sneaky peak every so often to see if my blackberry was any better, but thank the berry gods, for my phone is fully recovered!

Second drama: After a sneaky trip to London, I hopped back to university but in the process managed to lose my purse. Yes, I know, I'm a hopeless case. But, darlings that they are, the people from Stagecoach called me and said they had the very object in their possession so all I had to do was pop over to the bus depot to collect said item. Simple, no? Er, no. On my bike, I had to navigate my way across a bypass to get to this bus depot, hidden behind a factory several miles from town in the back of beyond. I honestly feared for my life about every three seconds such were the number of freight lorries rushing past me. But, two and half hours later, my beloved purse and I were reunited once more.

I wonder, how long till the next self-inflicted drama... Perhaps I'll enjoy the Eindadi infused moment whilst it lasts!