Weather
here is a tad warm...36° in the shade and sea temp of 27°. The
maltese version of
playboy is being launched on saturday, featuring maltese models throughout who will all be present at the open-bar launch. I'm not looking forward to it in the least but shall go there since I'm invited to prevent disappointment of the poor host.
I'm still smoke free, must be about six weeks now..I still wish for a
smoke occasionally, as in every time I've had a few drinks, ie, every single day...but don't actually
crave them and manage to resist. I've stopped
irrational snapping at everyone as a substitute for a smoke, so I suppose I should take that as a good sign and
rejoice,
celebrate, and
drink.
My
relationship has taken another
downhill turn in
fifth gear,
tyres screaming in a
last ditch effort to grip the
tarmac,
coils groaning in an attempt to maintain
stability...basically it revolves around the
commitment issue and planning a future. I have no intention of doing so, and she whacked me with a sharp stick mentioning the unmentionable...buying
property. I made it very clear that I'm not in the least
inclined in that direction and now it's her turn to feel bad about me for being a kid and lacking the
balls to take a long-term decision. So the
ping-pong match has started...you're pissed off at me so you make me feel angry which makes you even further pissed off seeing me angry when you are the one who should be angry and reach dizzying heights of
wrath. The positive feedback builds up to
seismically measurable levels until I blow her top by
laughing irrationally at the worst possible moment. There's only so much time that this situation can last...something inevitably happens to swing the situation one way or another so I'll hang on until it happens.
Enough mundane rantings about yet another World Relationship Federation showdown....I'll switch to logging the beer festival...
Pint...grin....pint....laugh....pint.....sober expression....pint....wave hello to girl i don't feel like speaking to...pint....crave a smoke....pint....friends' perimiters start blurring...pint...shit i have to drive home...pint....shit i have to drive Ron home and he's more fucked than I am....pint for the road....
Repeat for every day of the beer festival to spare me describing my varied and eventful week.