These are my judgemental judgements.

One week on from my black hole gripped mood on Sunday evening and things are smelling quite sweet again. I think that with the added perspective the past week has provided I’m able to see with grater clarity the pure form of enjoyment I experienced on a weekend that ended all too soon. The panic, then resignation that gripped my spirit as I ploughed off the edge of my emotional cliff was made even more unpalatable in a dangerous cocktail of sunstroke, fatigue and cuties wearing vest tops in my car.

They say nothing can escape a black hole once you’re in its downward spiral of gravity. But that’s bollocks as I'm feeling *king good. The weather has been warm all week and Ive been having good fun making rash judgements about my housemates.

There are 7 of us all together.

Couple F, should be eating frogs legs and saying ‘Hooonk-eeee-hoooonk’ all the time are actually very nice. I am in the process of rapidly changing my logic and assumptions about the F. He’s a car mechanic, good fun and came out for some beers on Friday night. She’s doing a business degree type thing that involves her doing stints of work abroad. Her current status in the house is testament to a successful English leg of one such contract.

Ive not met Gay A properly. Though he is clearly a super camp something, and that something is, by all accounts a waiter. He has, according to F man and L upstairs a wine-drinking problem. He is also, apparently, was a Slovakian TV presenter, having got his face known on a Big Brother type show. I think that’s more than enough supposition for now.

L upstairs is sound. When I first heard her described as a young religious education teacher I feared the worse, but there isn’t a cardigan or a guitar chorus of ‘I cant smile without you… I cant smile….’ in sight.

M downstairs is a late thirties semi rough bird and comes complete with N downstairs - a mid twenties guy who is, I’m reliably assured is her bit of stuff. This is funny for several reasons. She’s a (on first impressions, admittedly) bossy, controlling, not very attractive middle aged woman and he’s the sort of guy you’d arrange to see next Tuesday. In one of my attempts to get a conversation going with him, I said, while watching the Man U – Watford game,

‘Hey N downstairs, are you in to football at all?’

‘Nah, I'm more into my extreme sports’ he replied.

This is amusing. There is no way this guys ever done anything extreme in his life - apart, maybe, for being extremely *king average. I don’t want to make him look as stupid as he is, so I think about how to say, ‘oh yeah so what extreme sports do you do?’ without promting the inevitable reply of ‘oh no I don’t actually do any’

‘Oh cool. So, er, what sort of sports do you like?’

‘Oh, I like anything extreme really, like snowboarding’

Hmmm. ‘Have you got up that dry slope much then?’ I refer to a dry ski slope visible as you come into plymouth on the A38. Its got a well thought out decoration of differing dry slope colours that spells out 'SKI'

‘Nah. I think its spose to be better on the snow’

Oh. So you’ve never been then. It turns out he likes snowboarding on the TV. What a cock. This is similar to some other conversations Ive had with him which are right up there at the top of my all time crap conversation league.

Luckily, after a while he gets called away by his mum, sorry girlfriend, and I only say girlfriend as I don’t think oldwomanfriend is a real word.

I might contiune this as their characters emerge.

I wonder what they think of me…