September 26 (Sunday): Cestone. Today I wake up with writing and flat renovation in mind. This however gets interrupted but the usual MSN blah with Sara followed by The Championship on ITV. ITV may no longer have Premiership football but their show still begins with It’s A Beautiful Day and has the kind of go that BBC chokes on. And add that is showing “Championship�, which is actually Second Division, football which means also Millwall!

Eventually I wander out and do the newspaper run. Today is a weird day, overcast and looking like rain but never quite submitting and it isn’t in the least bit cold or chilly. Today I feel like lunching so I phone up Mark around midday to see what he is up to. Unfortunately he is busy, about to speak to his girlfriend, not really an event that should be usurped in favour for lunching with a friend (although I was going to offer for it to be my shout). I do however make arrangements to hook up in the afternoon and do something.

From there I head towards Tesco to do some food shopping, food shopping by me currently equating the most basic purchases in the most basic food groups in quantities that generally fail to last more than one day or two. I think today I purchase bottled water, milk, Corn Flakes, bread and peanut butter. Healthy Graham. As I pay for my food, I see a couple at the checkout next to me purchasing their groceries, a very bad tempered man flinging food stuffs onto the checkout around his four pack of blue and white stripe Tesco Value lager. No wonder he appears pissed off.

Upon return to my flat, my home, my prison, I eat loads of my freshly purchased food and I tear into tidying the flat. I only get so far before I get bored.

On a knackering, mind numbing Sunday afternoon I search for stimulation and decide that today should be the day that I finally watch Spirited Away, which by now I have very little interest into actually watching in the first place (it came with a recommendation by Phoebe, remember her?). Just before I settle down to watch the film, Mark phones and he is heading out in a car with Jeremy and co just to go visit Mersea and……it doesn’t really sound like do much else. I guess I am not the only person in the world that gets thoroughly bored on Sunday afternoons. My gut reaction is to decline the invitation and I do so, although immediately after the rejection procrastination and question of making the right choice kick in, the main personal question being “will I always be this anti-social?�. Plans however are plotted/made for the pub quiz, for a second Sunday running. Getting back in a groove.

Regardless, I settle down to watching Spirited Away, which really really is not my thing. Today I am a real lightweight and cannot possibly face any subtitles, so luckily there is the English language version which saves my bacon. The film for me comes with a top heavy Phoebe flavour, I can only imagine and consider what she was seeing in this moving and what she was taking from it in the process. I cannot help but see the main character as being representative of her, a young Oriental girl with a pure heart against the odds, combating and overcoming fears. I do have to admit, within fifteen minutes of starting the DVD I do/did fall asleep but when I awaken I do/did (I promise) restart the movie from (roughly) where I had got to. The film conjures up some lovely images and the main character is sweeter than sweet, innocent and pure, but I also the story to be ridiculous, making no sense whatsoever.

After the movie, I get back into writing and tidying but now unfortunately I found myself with a bit of a headache, which perhaps came from laying funny on my head when I fell asleep. As the evening comes around, 8pm neared and my headache continues to rage as much as ever and I pretty much decide to opt out of the pub quiz. Mark however phones me up and manages to talk me into turning out, headache and all.

This week’s quiz is fantastic, much more fun and successful than last week. Again the Emily is around, looking even more attractive than last time. I’m actually on form tonight, a very sociable me for a change, more charming and witting than a hard hitting stick. I make funnies which people actually find funny and actually manage to scrape a lengthy and interesting conversation with the Emily girl. It turns out that one of our team-mates from last week (this week missing) was/is a member of the Freemasons and this gives birth to much intrigue and excitement, if I could I would so be part of that thing. Then again, I am wholly imagining it to be just like the Stonecutters fellowship on the Simpsons. Quiz wise, this week we fair much better and actually get questions I know the answers to. The team I am “guesting� is called The Victims and is a team of rabid frisbee players. When results come out/around, we have scored 28 out of 32 and the winning team only scored 29, so I guess that made us seconds. No prizes for second though. Shortly after the results, moves are made. We walk back to our respective cars, me making a pathetic, posing gesture that makes sure everybody sees which car is mine (ho ho). This also coming as I fish Jeremy in with conversation about locals, mainly the rough end Colchester gangsters and apparent local members of The Triad.

When I return home I feel fucked, my head feels like a tumour and I feel shattered. Then Phoebe Toronto hits me on MSN with tales of her weekend spent breaking into cars in Canada and being a usual nuisance of her teenage self (I later look on her blog to see great portions of our conversation published on the internet). Our talk sadly gets rudely interrupted when I get the shits, I suspect I may have eaten too much and/or food poisoned myself with dirty cutlery (maybe). It does however give me the opportunity to sit on the bog and finish off my Hulk Hogan autobiography. When I return to MSN, Phoebe Luk Canada is gone without goodbye.

The rest of my Sunday evening, sees bouts 2 and 3 with food poisoning while I watch a Making Of show for Layer Cake which actually makes it look pretty good but that is perhaps down to the fact that Tamer Hassan, the main Millwall fan from Football Factory has a part in the movie. I end the night feeling like the Alien is going to fly out of my stomach. Good night.

np: Sons & Daughters – Johnny Cash