Sunday, 7 June 1987

When the Wind Blows


‘The Rhythm Blooded’ – Grace Jones




KER-NACKERED OR WHAT?



I done feck all today, ‘cept revise.



Freddie went to a boot sale and bought me the 12-inch of Bowie’s ‘When the Wind Blows’. 


Not the greatest record in the universe, but I really appreciate the thought.  And it didn’t cost me, so it’s all right.  Seriously though, Freddie and I seem to be getting on a lot better these days.  Things seem okay with Betty, too.  Maybe Chip’s having a calming effect on us all?  I mean, we all muck in and do our bit.  I know I got annoyed with my squarents quite a lot earlier in the year, but mostly I think it comes down to their inability to communicate with me directly.  I don’t know why they’re so rubbish at that.  I guess I miss the method my last dad, George, used to employ which was – shock of all horrors – to sit and chat with me.  Like we were mates.  And he always gave good advice without being preachy.  I know it must be weird for Freddie.



After dinner, I revised for about 4 hours, listened to some Nephilim, had a bath and then listened to Gene Loves Jezebel whilst crimping my hair – strand by strand – and writing to Naomi at the same time.



I bet I fail my exams and get kicked outta tech.  I don’t want that.  But it’ll happen.



goodnight…







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NEXT TIME: ‘Ned Leeds is the Hobgoblin?!…

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