Something to write about

Here's an excerpt from an email I wrote to Don Swift earlier on, I thought I'd rehash it here for no reason in particular,

I went to the theatre last night, a small affair with some people I know from the improv thing I did earlier in the year. It was ok, 2 one act plays, the first one was pretty crappy, not so much the acting, though that wasn't great, but the play itself, it was pretty dull, and poorly written, oh and the lighting and sound kept screwing up. I didn't notice so much the technical things, but I was with Tom who seems to be an expert on everything. The second play was The Bear, and it was pretty good, though the girl playing the lady role was a little bit, I don't know, her acting was kind of cheesy and over the top, like she was playing for laughs rather than to make it seem real, the best way I can explain it, I also thought she lacked a bit of snobbiness that I thought was necessary for the role, I argued over this with Tom for about an hour afterwards, he didn't agree with me on that point. We went to a pub afterwards, drank some beers and talked about stuff, like the play we'd just seen, and as I mentioned arguing over our interpretations on how it should have been, gambling, work, credit cards, and a bit about William's latest exploits. William came in the other night about midnight, or maybe after, very very drunk. He did the usual insist on playing music, which thankfully he didn't, but he insisted on playing a movie that he'd rented the night before and still had, it was about 2 hours so I waited through this, trying to read a book while he kept blabbing to me about things in the movie that didn't interest me, incidents from the evening which didn't interest me, sentimental memories brought on by watching the film that didn't interest me and particularly annoyed me and the usual telling me how he loves me and other shit like that which really, really doesn't interest me. After the film he decided he wanted to have another cigarette and watch a couple of bonus features. Of course all through the film and all of this I was protesting, trying to calmly suggest he fuck off and go to bed, but it didn't work. At about 3.30 or sometime around then he finally went to bed. I suppose I slept a little. At something like 8am I was woken up by something, he was up and got in the shower for one of his typical after drinking shower sessions. He sang, he moaned he made weird animal noises and other such stuff, basically didn't shut up for one fucking second of the time he was in there, which I would guess was about 40 minutes. After that he came and sat in the living room, had a cigarette and then finally fucked off and let me sleep again. Later in the morning, what most people would consider afternoon he got up again. Started frantically searching around saying he'd lost his wallet. Not to go into it too much it turned out he had indeed lost it, and his phone as well. So he had to call his American bank on my telephone to cancel his bankcard, used up all my credits of course and well, not much else to say really. I went out last night to the theatre with Tom and it was pleasant. How have you been? M.

In case anyone is actually reading, and you don't know, which you won't because no one has a link to this blog so you've found me by accident, my life is kind of strange. I live with William, who I co-run a business with, and he is also my ex boyfriend, I should actually say I'm staying with him, as it's not permanent and we're not sleeping together or anything. I'm rather desperate to get out of here and find my own place but it's difficult. Oh and he's kind of still in love with me. Tom is my boyfriend. I'm totally madly in love with him. He seems to like me kind of, but it doesn't seem like all that much. This bothers me sometimes.