Strange - I've been less inclined to post here now I'm all mended. Melancholy helps me write; I think a lot of writers are the same. If you're happy, you're outside, external; writing is intensely me, me, me.

Anyway, things have been happening, kind of. I'm thoroughly enjoying living in the now, without much thought to backwards or forwards. It's a kind of relief to sink into the present - like playing sport. The immediacy is liberating. So I can't really lift out too many noteworthy events. One thing I want to write about but can't; still in progress, could jinx it by writing it. And another incident I held back from to prevent potential embarassment has now been cleared, so here goes:

At the rubber-cock party, the sex-jokes were flying thick and fast, following the penis around the room. Alternately fellated and flicked at unsuspecting victims, the girls were going nuts with it. All above board, until a certain housemate o' mine took the joke too far. I think it's probably because he's male it came off so badly, but it was also - debatably - in poor taste. Unzipping his fly, he put the cock through it and posed behind a random girl with a tasteless look on his face for a photo. He picked the worst possible person for it: one of the hostesses of the party, who recently finished up with a bad relationship. She cracked it, enforced the deletion of the photo, and spent the rest of the party crying in her bedroom. Instantly transformed from jokester to pariah, my housemate spent an uncomfortable hour on the couch enduring withering stares while waiting to see if she had deigned to receive his apology letter. At the time, a painful experience; the next day, a rich source of comedy.