I’ve been in Medway this weekend, I’m staying at my mum’s, but she’s not there. My auntie went into hospital to have her cochlear implant done, and her daughter is away on her long pre-booked holiday, so my mum’s gone to pick her up from hospital and look after her for a few days until her sense of balance returns.


I went to my dad’s to ride my new bike, which I won for the princely sum of £28 on ebay, and was located near him, so he picked it up. I haven’t ridden a bike in about 15 years, and I wasn’t even sure if I could actually do it or not. Turns out I can. I rode up and down a cul-de-sac full of 70s old people’s bungalows with treacherous bends most of the time, it felt appropriate. My arse is sore though. Needs hardening up. Raleigh Choppers are heavy and wobbly and totally impractical, but they look great. I always go for the swish but impractical item, Chris always tries to persuade me to be sensible about these things, but I never am. I feel I have to be sensible far too often, and it’s dangerous being too sensible, you might find you’ve turned into your dad. I need to get a bar to go at the back though. I nearly won one on ebay, but I was out riding the bike when it finished, and I was outbid by 20p. 20p!! I like the fact that you can successfully ride the bike in flares, with no cycling clips or trouser tucking needed. Now that’s a 70s posing bike! My one is actually two-tone pink and red. I’m going to get some fuschia fake flowers from poundland and use cable ties to fix some between the handlebars.

I went round Tukru’s then, and gave her her birthday presents. A bald, makeupless Blythe for her to customise, which I got for myself several years ago and never got around to doing up, so I thought she’d like it (and she did! and had fun creeping Carl out), some cruets shaped like hugging kangaroos, some cupcake stickers, a gluestick of pink glue, and an iron on T motif.

I would’ve gone out tonight, but I have no-one to give me a lift, there’s no night buses, taxis can be hard to come by, and something I saw this afternoon made me remember why I don’t want to walk around Chatham at night by myself. I came out of the newsagents on Luton Arches on my way back to the house from Tukru & Carl’s, and there were some kids banging another kids head on the pavement, a woman who seemed to know the boys leapt out of a car and started yelling at the kids, and the kid whose head was being banged sat up in tears and said “we were only messing about” to the concerned woman. The boys then all went swaggering off and pushing over the pavement signs of some shops and spitting. Typical people of Chatham I’m afraid. Medway could be nice if they shipped 90% of the people out somewhere (Sheppey, probably, they’d be happy there) and gave it a wash and brush up. I guess I’ve got too used to the hippified gentility of Brighton. The constant undercurrent of possible violence and general crassness and intolerence of your Chathamite on the street used to just wash over me, because I was used to it, now it makes me feel on edge and nervy. I’ve got used to being able to walk around looking any way I want, without people having a problem with it.