I draws Eeyores

I bet you didn't know that I collected Eeyore mugs. Unless you're Becky, then you probably do know that I believe that a cup of tea always just seems to taste better when Eeyore is on the mug.

So yes, instead of doing textiles (I have done one sheet), I have drawn Eeyore instead. I wish I could draw. My sister can draw, she once did an amazing watercolour of my Uncle and Auntie's house in France. I think the talent genes ended with her. I'm so fed up with myself.

Last night I went out with my girl friends into Manchester city to have a meal in China Town. We missed the train by like, 2 minutes, so had to sit on the train station for an hour with my friend's stupid, gormless, chav friends. They anger me an incredible amount. I hate anyone who act with no regard for other people's feelings and these group of people, in fact anyone who is Samantha and Jess' friends, they all act in the same vulgar way which makes me want to scream. Really, I don't hold back my disdain for them. One day Samantha and Jess may stop acting in the pathetic manner where they both feel they need to be friends with these fuck-wits. I will sleep that bit easier knowing that they're not out getting paralytic with complete twats, stupid excuses for friends, who don't care about much more than getting high, fighting, getting girls into bed and making other people feel small and worthless. S+J both somehow feel that it is funny, or that they are nice people, when really, just because they flirt with you because they want to shag you, doesn't really take over the fact they have zero respect for you. Zero respect for anyone but themselves. They are the kind of people who are drunk at 5 in the afternoon, pissing on walls right in front of us. The disgusting things they think is socially acceptable to say in front of other people. You say: "Emma is not impressed." Fuck, no. I'm not. I'm not impressed with you or they way you act when you are around them. I hate them, you know I do. I know you see me looking at you when you're around them, and you deliberately don't meet my eye contact because you know what I'm thinking. For 10 years you have known me better than anyone, but I never thought that you would be the one to complain at the dinner table because you "need a fag." Stick to the people who actually care about you, because there are some people you are neglecting who are so much better for you.

On a lighter note, Manchester is beautiful. I love it. The people are fucking insane. I haven't ever been out in London centre at night, but last night we got chased by a man who looked quite homeless-y, who had a big card board tube. Scary, yes. At the end of the meal I was skint, bored and for once, not in the mood to get drunk. I just got a lift home with Bekki and watched the last 10 minutes of the Chelsea/Liverpool game. 10 minutes and 3 goals, was the best 10 minutes of football I've ever seen. Except for perhaps the penalty shoot outs of the Champions League final last year, but that's because we won at the end of it. Winning tonight plz. Alhough I wont be watching, I'll be out for another meal, getting rid of the last of my precious pennies.

If I were gay... I'd fancy P!nk.