Words can't express what you mean to me;
so bleeeeh *pop* flleblblblbl.
Baybee, it's hard for me to say these things
but, fwapndoopndeepnbwapndee hkhkhkhkhkhkhkhhhhh.
Tripod - Love Song

I just had two extremely weird phonecalls in a row. Actually, weird may not be the correct word. Possibly life-affirming, or brain-awakening, or something-hyphening. Let me tell you about it.

Number one phonecall comes from a number that my phone doesn't know, in New South Wales. South African. Sounds like a fairy. Yes, it's Charmaine. Those who know cringe, those who don't, don't, but that doesn't matter, for it was the content - not the courier - that was thingo-whatchamacallitish.
During the course of the conversation Charm causes me to become aware of two facts:

• She is married


• She has a baby

Yikes!
Yes, Charm has a 2ish month old baby girl, called Portia. This in itself isn't particularly scary, but it's revealing an alarming trend in my ex-girlfriends:
From my girlfriends in secondary school, of the first four - Sita, Rachael, Amanda, and Charmaine - three are married and two have babies (or babies in potentia)

I don't really know what to think about this at the moment, so I'm just going to go ahead and ignore it until my brain has had some time to come to terms with it all.

The second call, approximately seven minutes later, was a wrong number, asking for the residence or James Loveday, and his wife Marie.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgh.