but personally I blame John Keats. I took a break this morning from the cynical attitude I've adopted towards any kind of romance or...well, you know, that kind of thing. It's over a year now since I met the danish girl (the breifest of brief...meetings) and that's what I was thinking about today. I half wonder if the attraction was mostly down to the similar build and hair colour of someone else but then that one evening I spent with her was pretty amazing, even if not romantic in the most blatent sense.

 

Erck. If anyone asks, I'm merely proving that my sensitive side still exists. I take it out for a public airing and flogging every now and then.

 

I've taken to eating cereal at lunch, mostly because mum's stopped buying white bread (I'd go and buy my own, but I'm scraping the barrel merely to get the bus) and toasted sandwhiches just don't taste right in brown bread.