It’s raining really hard right now, proper Europe-rain. It sounds as though if I'd open the window the entire room will flood and I will have my own private swimming pool. I like it. I like wearing my jeans and my boots and my periwinkle knitted sweater and going out in the nipping cold. Next time I'll bring my umbrella.
Current gossip has evolved. Nowadays, sex just doesn't seem to cut it like it used to. To our eighteen year old selves, sex is just something that happens and, as far as gossip goes, no one gets excited about it anymore. The new thing, apparently, is guys who seem to be very straight having gay sex. That's right, the buzz going around at the moment is that best friends are doing it, and how. As we sit at a coffee shop sipping our frothy chai-lattes, we cease discussing fashion or movies or whatever, to talk about how some guys we used to hang out with (I even had a crush on one of them) have now found sexual satisfaction in each other. What will the youth be talking about in ten years?
On the other hand, a few days ago my friend and I were mooching pointlessly around in an art store when an idea hit us. Immediately we started buying supplies in a somewhat frenzy. We got neon coloured balloons, googley eyes, feathers, superglue, a black marker and a packet of flour. Then we went over to another friend's house and set to work. We spent the next two-or-so hours cutting and sticking, customizing and styling, until we had created a nice bunch of those stretchy flour-babies you play with when you're a kid. So really our maturity levels are reaching both ends of the spectrum.
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