Well I was so exhausted that even the sound of the binwagon crashing and screeching its way up our street at ooooh... 6.30 this morning complete with shouting binmen, flashing orange and blue lights and "vehicle reversing" creepy robot chick warning message did not wake me up. No, instead I incorporated the sounds into a dream, in which a huge crane was winching a bulging, massively overfilled skip (that's dumpster to you, dear American reader) over the top of the house, my bedroom and my head, I could see the rusted chains stretching with the weight of the load and was at the bit where they were about to snap, burying me in an avalanche of building waste and destroying the house completely when I was woken by R with a nice cup of tea.

x-posted in attenuated form to 100 words.

Oh, Oh, Oh HOLYFUCKINGCOW my beautiful new camera just arrived! I am going to be seriously busy with this over the next few days... I would have really liked a digital SLR (probably a Nikon) but the budget doesn't stretch that far,and as I'm interested in low light photography, I thought I'd go for this model. I hope its good. I hear scary tales of chromatic abberation, but well, we'll see. Expect lots of pictures of absolutely fucking everything, as if I don't already have millions of pics all lined up and ready to post :D

Theres been lots of fox activity in the back garden at nights, barking, yipping and most of all smelling. Last night I ventured out onto the fire escape in the hope of seeing one, but it was pissing it down and blowing a gale, so I diddn't go more than a couple of steps. But the stench!!! It almost knocked my flying. How to describe the smell of fresh fox pee? Rotting garlic and sweaty socks, my but thats a sexy perfume you have there Mr Reynard.

My sweetie (who is after all just a hippy) has a habit of every night no matter how late or how inclement the weather, going out into the garden to look at the moon. He often does this in bare feet too, the idiot. Anyhow, last night he came in from doing this and was busily brushing his teeth before bed when I told him all about Foxy Loxy. "Oh yes, I could smell him too" says he, "in fact I can still...er...oh BOLLOCKS". Yes. He had stepped in the fox pee. I left him frantically scrubbing at his toes, not before telling him he wasn't going to sleep with this foxy lady until he changed the perfume :)

I've been wanting to do this for ages - now that I've started writing, it seems I cannot stop. Joining the 100 words community is a wonderful springboard, although so far everything I've written for it has been somewhat melancholy. Odd, given that my life is far from that now. The icon I've chosen captures the feeling well; swirling waters of leftover feelings rush by but I stay bottled up, buoyant, floating.

I'm going to dole out the things I've written for 100 words gradually, so as not to spam the site.

So, will I use this thing? I love to write; I love to read, it shouldn't be a problem, but I'm shy online, far shyer than in real life. I like the idea of having a place to dump the contents of my brain - as to wether or not that is interesting to anyone else remains to be seen. So I'll write for myself then. You can watch if you like, but really I'm writing for myself.