Love Heart Bingo: the results

(remember: they never lie)

(however, I, personally, have no idea to whom the Love Heart refers when I pick it out for you) (got that?!)

steg: Love Bug (ha!!)
mel: It's All Yours
The Brit (yeah, he's playin' too!): Hug Me
shot: My Boy
mig: For Keeps
vicus: Kiss Me (I'm not kidding you, these are totally random as played by the rules)
KAZ: Sugar Lips
ziggi: My Angel
gordie: Sugar Lips (yes, there are multiples of some sweets, I used two packets you see)
anon g: Miss Me
malc: My Girl
dinahmow: My Angel
sorrow: Hug Me
donnnnn: Sweet Heart
katherine: Looking Good
silver solo: Say Yes

*takes deep breath*

*takes stock*

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, I'm going to have to think (quite hard) (I mean think quite hard, not that thinking is quite hard) (altho sometimes it still is) about this a little, before I try to decipher it. . . remember, I do not know who your Love Heart refers to in your life. . .

POST SCRIPT

apparently I've forgotten someone!
how remiss of me -
please accept my humble apologies

(*opens new packet of Love Hearts*)

if it's The Beep, your sweetie is Miss Me;
if it's tpwh♥ml, your sweetie is It's All Yours. . .

is it Friday?

Crunchies in the side bar, along with the alternative treats
.
.
results of the Love Heart Bingo coming soon!

being

pick as sweet, any sweet - go on. . .
.
.
I'm feeling slightly frivolous today -
but only slightly, so I'm not going to overdo it

more nightmares last night, including the worst one I could have - maybe it's cleared the air tho, a little like a fresh morning after a night of thunderstorms which followed a hot and humid, muggy day

for the people who wonder if it's to do with the drugs, I think it is - I've been having the nightmares since I was put on the new medication (I did tell the nursing staff when I was in hospital, but they said if I didn't wake up screaming it wasn't a nightmare) (bollocks to that); also, I have come off the sleeping pills that my brain was/is addicted to - night five last night without it - so perhaps that's affecting things too

interestingly, without it (the sleeping drug) my body seems to wake up more naturally, rather than after six-and-a-half-hours; thus I had to set my alarm for this morning, in order to make sure I was up in time to meet Mini-Teen and take her into school

however, because of the nightmare, I had woken up an hour before the alarm went off; so I started rereading The Diving-Bell and The Butterfly in the early light, instead of drifting back into some kind of fitful sleep

if you recall,
this is the book that the delightful Tom lent me

have you read it? I haven't seen the film, so I can't comment on that - but the book is a total delight, despite its sadness; amongst many gifts, it has given me a new method of getting to sleep: I turn the light out and let my mind flutter off somewhere enjoyable, as Jean-Dom does in the book (I'm fully aware that he had no choice about this, whereas I do); it's almost like "choosing" happiness

which I didn't think was possible, and I'm not able to keep up the whole time, but am gradually learning is a possibility

at the other end of the morbidity scale, I've only had one evening in the last two weeks where I wanted to just end it all there and then; that night I went to bed early, instead of spending hours working myself into more and more of a deadend

so, pick a Love Heart - any Love Heart
and pass the message on to the person who makes you happy,
I'm very glad you have someone that does

later we could play
Love Heart Bingo
(I'll do it in order of comments, alright?
if anyone is going to make any today, that is)

when in doubt

play Love Heart Bingo*
. .
..

(*I've had that ©ed, I'll have you know)
.
there are no rules (well, there are some, actually, but I'm [fairly] sure you're not really that interested. . .) and you can munch to your heart's content on that Swizzles Matlow flavour as you go. . . of course, you could just go down to the sweetie shop and buy yourself some other kind of sherbert or fizzies. . .

.
(suggestions follow)

. . .and save the results of the Love Heart Bingo for posterity. . .
.

but love's not like that, is it
.

love is a sometimes ephemeral transitory thing: like a leaf on a tree, a bud in spring and full of promise and all withered and dried up by autumn; or the soft fluttering of a butterfly wing, moments before it is caught up in a spider's web and eaten; or dust that sits quietly minding its own business in the corner of a room and is then vacuumed into oblivion by the hoovering of an over zealous housewife; or the water molecule at the peak of a wave - thinking it's just about to break gloriously on the shingle or sands of the shore, but actually left behind in the foam as the next molecule picks up the energy and continues on with it. . .

where was I? oh yes, Love Heart Bingo

.
I played it in France. . .
.

ha ha!

but when I asked you delightful people what you wanted to know about my hols, noone wanted to know about the men of this summer's France: so I'm not going to tell you anymore about it; what I will tell you is that I am to become An Art Student! YES! I signed up for 2 (repeat two) classes at the local College of Art and Design. . . I walked away with the beginnings of a rather smug grin on my face, thinking of what my mother told me when I was fifteen, "nice girls don't go to Art College", and how she wanted me to become a secretary instead (or a nurse), and then I stopped dead in my tracks in the street
.

what if she was right?

.
(not that I'm assuming I'm a nice girl, anymore)
(not after the last eighteen months anyhow)