Dear Journal,

Do you realise that this is only my 23rd entry into you in 2003? Indeed, if you were a woman, you'd probably feel rather unfulfilled by that statistic. There once was a time when I felt I couldn't live without you, a time when I'd try my utmost to keep the public on their toes, intrigued by my every word. Alas, the fad was exposed, and so here I am, on my own.

What's new then, eh? Surely to God something's happened in the past month? Well, journal, patience is a virtue, and one you should hold close to your heart. For a start, I've sat four of five exams. Oh yes. And got an A in Economics, without having to sit the three hour final exam. Nice. The four exams have went about as well as I could have hoped for, I guess. I'd be disappointed, and a tad surprised, if I had to go back in August for some re-sits. But, as Cyndi Lauper once sang, "Time Will Tell". Or something similar.

Today I purchased two Joy Division albums, taking the Joy Division count to seven, one behind The Smiths. I bought "Les Bains Douches", featuring songs from concerts in Paris, Amsterdam and Eindhoven, and "The Complete BBC Recordings". They're very good. Meanwhile, a trip to Manchester may be in order for August. Alas, we shall see again. It may be another city all together, such as Dortmund, or even Dublin. That's for the future, though.

When purchasing said albums today, the young lady working at HMV was showing some emotion toward me. Now, dear journal, you know me better than anyone. I know of no emotion. Hell, I could not even tell you if a person was genuinely laughing or just suffering from a mild case of excess wind. Anyhoo, it was an emotion of some shape or form. Let me explain.

Being in the "priveleged" status of "student", I obtain discounts from such shops as HMV. In order to obtain said discount from said particular shop however, I have to hand over my specific HMV discount card. The card has a magnetic strip - much in the same manner as a Visa, or Mastercard, naturally - but this magnetic strip is not like any other. No, this one opts not to swipe. So, she has to key in the number in the till. A terribly painstaking operation, I can assure you.

Having done this excruciating task, she anticipates my payment of £18.74. However, working for the shop I do, I sometimes gain such vouchers, in £1 denominations, that can be used in HMV. So, I hand her over eleven of these vouchers. She looks at them, and with a wry grin complains "They're all £1!". I apologise, and she gets on with the task in hand - scoring through each voucher with a biro.

At the end of the eventful transaction, she hands me the albums, and I say "Thank you", and get a smile. Fantastic! I think I'll marry her.

As you can see then, journal, my life is as fun as ever. Morrissey documentary is coming on right now - isn't it exciting? Until the next time, I leave you with the quote emblazened on my forehead:

"Where will it end?"

Goodnight.

Love and hugs,
Jacques T. Lad.