"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Call me a misery guts, I don't care
12:59 p.m. on 2004-05-17

I hate bloody summer.

Not all of it. I love the way British gardens come out into bloom, especially along the very pretty road that leads to my house. I love the way my cats come out of their self-imposed hibernation period to lounge on the patio, or chase spiders across the cobbles. I love the way the sun feels against my shoulders, I love ice cream and being able to wear skirts and vest tops without a jacket, and my dad's barbecues, and sitting in the pub garden having a drink with friends.

But what I don't like about summer has this frustrating tendency to block out all the good points.

First, there's the hayfever. It doesn't matter how many pills I pop, I'm still left sneezing and snuffling (without the pills, I'd be a streaming, red eyed mess). My throat is constantly itchy and scratchy and in an attempt to relieve these symptoms I drink gallons of water, which only results in me rushing back and forth to the loo all the time.

Then there's wasps.

If there was any proof that Satan had a hand in the creation of the world, wasps are it. They play no part in any food chain, as far as I can tell (yellow and black means toxic, right?). They don't make honey. And they're evil little fuckers.

Bumblebees are lovely, awkward creatures who will only sting you if you aggrevate them (as my cat once found out, to his cost) but otherwise are happy to spend their time flitting from flower to flower, not bothering anyone.

Not wasps. Oh no. Wasps like to hover around your food, your drinks, your sun tan lotion. They will sting you FOR FUN (seriously, I have accounts of people being stung whilst they were asleep, for chrissakes!).

But a lot of people don't like wasps, I hear you say. That's no reason to hate summer.

Except I don't just no like wasps. I'm terrified of them. I have wasp-phobia. This probably stems back to an incident when I was four or five, and my family and I were trapped in a shuttered Portugese restaurant whilst a swarm of the buggers overran town. I wasn't stung, but nevertheless I can still recall the incident in a great deal of detail, and even now, eighteen years later, the sight of a single wasp prompts me to leap from my chair and start screaming.

Yeah. So whilst everyone else is outside, enjoying the sun, I much prefer it inside, under a mountain of Kleenex, downing pint after pint of water and suffering a stifling heat because I refuse to open a window in case ONE OF THEM gets in.

Bleugh. Roll on winter.

Listening to: Tori Amos: "Mister Zebra"

Quote: "At least I shall have the pleasure of putting you out of my misery."

PS: Let me just quote this extract from Cass's diary. I hope she doesn't mind.

In other news, I had a drream about Lauara (cybersyd) last night. Allow me to set the scene- My family was on holiday without me, and whilst I was at work Hay rang me to tell me that some people were holding a Sci-Fi convention at my house, which had been turned into a convention hall.

On the way home I bumped into Sarah, as we walked through my front gate we were confronted with a massive convention hall and car park. As we walked through the car park I noticed out of the corner of my eye a metallic pink (classy) Ford Escort with a personalised plate- CYBR 5YD. I knew she must be inside, and for some reason suddenly got really scared.

We walked into the hall and there were rows and rows of tables, and suddenly I saw Laura waving frantically at me. I recognised her even though in the dream I'd never met her before. She stood up and shook my hand, and looked all high-powered and business like and, well, SCARY. It was like... You know that episode of Freinds where they wonder what their lives would have been like if things had been different? And Pheobe is that scary workaholic businesswoman who has a heart attack because she works too hard? Well, Laura was like that. She even had a faux American accent.

It turns out it was her convention, and she suddenly stood on the table and introduced the whole thing really loudly.

Then I woke up.

Heh. Cass doesn't realise how scarily true this scenario could be...

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