So my sister’s getting married. I get to be a bridesmaid again (joy) but not the maid of honor (jealous.) That honor (forgive bad pun) goes to her best friend and fellow x-factor enthusiast Ashley. (I never liked Ashley; she’s loud, obnoxious and wears inappropriately short skirts)
It’s not that I care. In fact if she had asked me I’d be right here complaining about all the extra responsibility she’d just saddled me with. It’s one of those rare situations where I get to be irritated by her decision either way. (I love those.)
Yesterday I met Aya, aka the new girl, aka Katie’s replacement.
I really want to not like her. She’s too pretty, and never stops with the stories about all the far off and exotic locations she’s been to, the thrilling adventures she’s had and the whirlwind romances she’s shared.
Listening to her though, you find yourself getting caught up in it all. She’s like an American blockbuster movie. You know you should be put off by the crass commercialism and the mass appeal of the content but in the end you find yourself as captivated by the special effects and sexy actors as everyone else. (It’s almost enough to make me hate her but then blah, blah…etc)
Michael’s been avoiding me. (Probably embarrassed that I know about him and Katie.) This has been made easier by my training and the fact that I’m avoiding him. (I don’t really know why.)
He and his new partner are gearing up for a mission. They will be the primary strike team on the final test thing for the bad guys or as I like to call it the “Who wants to have a superpower?” challenge. Should be fun and by fun I mean terrifying and dangerous and I’m glad I’m not involved with it or any other missions in any real way.
In fact I might have a little “I’m not a spy and therefore my life doesn’t generally involve gunfire, knife fights or car chases” celebration tonight.
The name needs work.
Now I just need to find out if my sister drank everything in the flat.
She did.
