The path

Dear Diary,

Well, last night I was invited to Wolfae's house after working for "The People's Republic of Bridport" (for the usual pittance) and then for "Chairlady Mao" at the Chinese restaurant (for even less). Upon my arrival Wolfae looked like une vrai bordel all dolled up to go to a party. Little dress (very little) and suspenders, she looked like she had made an effort. Alas, the party was too far away and besides, I was far more interested in reading Vergil's Aeneid, than either going to a rave or looking at FB (which is what seems to occupy the lady's time). I had brought with me a lovely bottle of Californian red, and she reciprocated with what I can only describe as rot-gut or some god-awful concoction. It was dire but I was already pretty... tipsy, so indulged in the virtual poison. Naturally, I was asked to play some guitar, as usual, which I did, and some other chap turned up. He was, not the most well read man in the world, to say the least. As I perused David West's precise translation, the gentleman in question made a "joke". He said, "I read a book once, it was green." Mmmmmnnnnnnnyeeeeessssssss. Quite.

Evidently this party was not for a classicist, but more for sociologists, ravers and FB users. He proceeded to tell me how he learns so much history from FB (conspiracy theory nonsense, rabble-rousing good for nothing wishy washy lefty BS). Without saying too much I told the gentleman (amicably) and Wolfae (without wishing to offend them on home ground) how unless one has studied history formally at Higher Education level, one really wouldn't have the foggiest idea whatsoever about history. I played a little more guitar, then went. I seemed to return home "on autopilot", but remember being soldier-like once I had to gather my affairs (even when very very drunk, inebriated in-fact I am too careful to loose either "Narcissus" [my guitar] or a sacred book). Anyway.

Today in Church I was dreadfully hungover, and couldn't even handle communion wine. Peter was marvellous company, but still has nympholepsy (ardent desire for the completely unattainable) for a Catholic woman we know. I tried to explain how there are many more women than just this Polish woman with whom he is infatuated. He is still a good friend, and a fellow Christian.

A340 looks really good, and I can't wait to study it. I need to find a third job from somewhere to repay a loan to study another Latin module, cover the rent, and repay my Council Tax and legal fees from the trial. Bugger.