drainedMum is in hyperdrive for no reason and decided it was time to go through my things while I was out last night, so we've had another row this morning in which she stated with inestimable logic that my going through her bags was completely different from her going through my bags. Whatever.
Yet another woman (no, not my mum, don't be daft) adds herself to the list of people I'd really kick the living daylights out of given half a chance and a little less control. Congratulations, you're one of a select few.
A few days ago, someone started part of a conversation with me with "Let me tell you a secret". I swore, last time I talked to them, that if they or anyone else ever started telling me their secrets or things in their past that they wouldn't want just anyone to know or their innermost thoughts or whatever, I'd stop them before they could. I'm a secret-keeper, like Sirius. I didn't stop him; it's my job to listen, it's what I do.
I knew his secret already, but sometimes I don't, and some of them are heavy to carry around, and some of them hurt. But I don't wish people would stop telling me, not really. At least I'm of some use to them.
Oh, whatever.
Later : Oh yes, and I just remembered - would it, technically, be possible to use cigarette ash as eyeshadow, if you ground it down a little or something? I know this sounds slightly bizarre, but just answer if you can...
E.
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