2002-01-14 - 2:31 p.m.

Um. Sorry for that (now deleted) short but unnecessarily depressing outburst of whining self-pity. I shouldn�t update drunk. Especially sad, stupid, self-hating drunk. But thank you for the messages of concern / offers of marriage, etc. I accept them all with slightly red-faced, but unrestrained fondness.

So what was all THAT about? Oh, nothing major�I�d been invited for a boozy light luncheon in honour of my oldest friend�s b�day. Nineteen people. Nine buttock-clenchingly happy, self-assured, good-looking couples and, er, me in the corner, drinking my way through the awkwardness. And towards the end, I just flipped out a bit and descended into extreme, alcohol-fuelled despair about, oh, being on my own in this uncaring city and how practically everyone I know is seemingly fucking at least two or three people and then into a more generally-encompassing �what the fuck am I doing with my life anyway� kind of vibe, and it certainly wasn�t very becoming and probably a bit pathetic if the truth be told. Ghastly business, old chap. I still feel a bit blah but normal service can hopefully be resumed presently.

I just need to sort my life, as they say, out. Easy, no?

I�m so proud to be living under what�s perhaps the most ironic government of modern times. �Crouching� Tony (Hidden Agenda) Blair traipses over to the sub-continent to smooth things over between India and Pakistan, which is all very well, in a kind of desperately obvious Nobel-bating kind of way. But then it comes out that he figures the whole peace process might benefit from selling India �1billion worth of state of the art, fire-breathing, missile-sodden attack helicopters. I mean, it�s irony, on a base level. But I�m sure his motives are pure.