Few people have lives interesting enough to receive threatening emails from people they know. This made me realise that my life isn't all that bland after all. If my posts have been sounding philosophical or touristy or solemn, with the only traces of humour coming at the expense of my flatmates more often than not, prepare for an overdose of solemnity, to have all humour and lightheartedness wiped out of this blog. I have had threatening emails asking me to behave myself; I have been accused of unfair victimisation and large-scale plans for the persecution of an unjustly indicted innocent young woman (I, of course) had almost been drawn out when the so-called victim (my roommate) saw it fit to laugh at the instances that portrayed her as not exactly the most brilliant housekeeper (good housekeeping is a very important accomplishment indeed, when you're living on your own in a house where the average age of the occupants is 22 years, 7 months).
If all your experience of detective novels, starting from the gingerbread and gingerbeer days of the Five Find Outers to the frosty Scandinavian settings of Henning Mankell's crime stories, hasn't quite helped you figure out what is going on, let me put it simply and plainly for you: my flatmates have begun reading my blog. In a moment of weakness, I gave away the link to my blog as carelessly as I chop potatoes. It is surprising that I haven't had the blade of a knife slice neatly through my finger yet- did I tell you I broke a knife chopping a potato as hard as a bit of rock from a quarry? The blade got wrenched out of the handle and flew across the table, and I sat staring at a sad little bit of black plastic in my hand.
Anyway, casting aside potatoes and knives for the moment, I was in danger of being emotionally tormented and blackmailed as the girls raked up the past and rounded up on me for my not-so-flattering comments. The fact that I haven't mentioned a single name, that they've always remained 'the girls' or 'my flatmates' helped me in my defence; the only chink in the armour was the reference to 'my roommate', but as she is a girl with a pretty practical disposition, I have been saved the blushes- and this blog. So now I must think ahead, be prepared for unwonted circumstances, and be angelically good.
Whom am I kidding?