In yet further proof that I am shit at being a girl, I had a few minutes to kill before going out for drinks the other night and decided to curl my eyelashes, because that's what girls do, apparently. While the contraption was clamped over my eye-hairs, I had a massive eye spasm, uncontrollably yanked my head and then looked at the eyelash curler, to discover I had RIPPED OUT a huge chunk of my eyelashes. Yes, I have a full-on bald spot now. An eyelash bald spot. WHAT.
I am completely obsessed with gingernut biscuits. They are heavenly, and I could happily marry one right now.
Lately, I am feeling all musical. I go through phases in my life, for example, I can tell that I am just about to go through a fitness phase, where I decide I am porky and start running every day, only to give it up within a few weeks. This is how I work. And now I am hitting the music phase, where I start playing the guitar every day and wailing like a feral cat and dreaming of discovering this incredible talent which MUST be lurking in there somewhere. So, right now my fingers hurt. From the guitar playing. But I'm sure I'll slack off soon.
It's only three and a half weeks before we take our mini-holiday which was supposed to be Thailand but isn't! I have even dug out a swimsuit which I bought a long time ago, back when I had convinced myself that I had a chance of becoming one of those carefree beach girls (and obviously forgetting that I can cause blindness with my pasty white skin). Yet I am a little scared of leaving work and having to come back to whatever has changed over a five day absence. Which is bloody sad, really.
Beardie also surprised me with Cirque du Soleil tickets for December, whoo! And we are even going VIP, where they offer a "coat check service" and "private restrooms". Instead of a communal pissing trough, or something. I asked what would happen if I used the coat check service to hand in a hoodie smelling like cheezels, and apparently that wouldn't go down well. I am unsure if I am VIP material. But I will get to see contortionists and various other freaks all up close and personal, ooh!
So the hoodie and cheezel's line just made me giggle a lot, but yes Vip treatment makes me feel like the biggest bogan in my scuffed shoes and messy hair. Even when I'm on my best behaviour. Proper Vip people who are polished and together are weird though.
- HA HA HA HA [points at RAT's male-pattern-bald eye] (What? What'd I do wrong? You're the one that looks funny)
- you so crazy. Tina Wafers is where's it's at, baby...but maybe marrying "Tina" is just a bit too Sapphic for you (calling you "baby" is right out, and you're now entitled to give me a knuckle-punch in my upper arm "no returns")
- I bought an acoustic guitar. I'm still waiting (about 15 months now) for the music phase to hit. Also, the fitness phase. And the vacuum the house phase. And the ring my mum phase. And...
- work will survive. Go collect some serious second-degree sunburn. Wear sunglasses (so people don't laugh at your bald-patch eye)
- tell Beardie to stop hitting himself in the bollocks at work (unless he's in a meeting, in which case a good smack to the bollocks is probably a little less painful and therefore worth it)
- To coat check service person: "Escusay-mwa, gar-kon! Your pleasure is to deposit this veste avec le capot in your finest check-locker, toot sweet...and watch you don't stretch the seams, as it's a genuine, one-off by label Droit Après Ceci, and worth more than your weight in Cheezels, which from the smell you have clearly been overindulging in. [sniff!]". Turn, and go take a nice, long, relaxed dump in the flash VIP dunnies. Just call me the June Dally Watkins Etiquette Master to the Blog-Stars!
Lucy, I agree. I am hoping to go for the "VIP, with a touch of bogan" angle. I think I can pull it off.
montsnmags, wafers? No way! There's just something so incredibly appealing about almost breaking a tooth with every bite of a gingernut. And nobody has noticed my bald eye, hooray! Or if they have, they haven't said anything. Hooray!
Mark, I searched Youtube for Kimya Dawson, and I have now discovered that I can be famous! I won't even bother trying to improve any further. Today is a good day.
In yet further proof that I am shit at being a girl, I had a few minutes to kill before going out for drinks the other night and decided to curl my eyelashes, because that's what girls do, apparently. While the contraption was clamped over my eye-hairs, I had a massive eye spasm, uncontrollably yanked my head and then looked at the eyelash curler, to discover I had RIPPED OUT a huge chunk of my eyelashes. Yes, I have a full-on bald spot now. An eyelash bald spot. WHAT.
4 comments:
So the hoodie and cheezel's line just made me giggle a lot, but yes Vip treatment makes me feel like the biggest bogan in my scuffed shoes and messy hair. Even when I'm on my best behaviour. Proper Vip people who are polished and together are weird though.
Point by point...
- HA HA HA HA [points at RAT's male-pattern-bald eye] (What? What'd I do wrong? You're the one that looks funny)
- you so crazy. Tina Wafers is where's it's at, baby...but maybe marrying "Tina" is just a bit too Sapphic for you (calling you "baby" is right out, and you're now entitled to give me a knuckle-punch in my upper arm "no returns")
- I bought an acoustic guitar. I'm still waiting (about 15 months now) for the music phase to hit. Also, the fitness phase. And the vacuum the house phase. And the ring my mum phase. And...
- work will survive. Go collect some serious second-degree sunburn. Wear sunglasses (so people don't laugh at your bald-patch eye)
- tell Beardie to stop hitting himself in the bollocks at work (unless he's in a meeting, in which case a good smack to the bollocks is probably a little less painful and therefore worth it)
- To coat check service person: "Escusay-mwa, gar-kon! Your pleasure is to deposit this veste avec le capot in your finest check-locker, toot sweet...and watch you don't stretch the seams, as it's a genuine, one-off by label Droit Après Ceci, and worth more than your weight in Cheezels, which from the smell you have clearly been overindulging in. [sniff!]". Turn, and go take a nice, long, relaxed dump in the flash VIP dunnies. Just call me the June Dally Watkins Etiquette Master to the Blog-Stars!
And that's me done.
OK, your BF is pretty much the bees knees so I'm only reading his site now. Thx, and I hope your 'lashes grow back. Bye.
Oh but please, locate that incredible talent show it to the world! If Kimya Dawson can be famous, so can you.
Lucy, I agree. I am hoping to go for the "VIP, with a touch of bogan" angle. I think I can pull it off.
montsnmags, wafers? No way! There's just something so incredibly appealing about almost breaking a tooth with every bite of a gingernut. And nobody has noticed my bald eye, hooray! Or if they have, they haven't said anything. Hooray!
Mark, I searched Youtube for Kimya Dawson, and I have now discovered that I can be famous! I won't even bother trying to improve any further. Today is a good day.
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