Ha!

I'm not sure whether it's PC to find this funny.


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Confirmed.

Maritime security. My mood just went foul again.


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(TMI)

I've taken my first NORMAL and FULL-STRENGTH and STRAIN-FREE dump in over two months!!!

This has significantly improved my mood :-)


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One day

I should like to do something as intensely cool as this.


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Group 18 (formerly 0).

(WARNING: The following post in the form of a self-obsessed rant may have been designed to fish for sympathy and compliments, and hence may be unsuitable for digestion.)

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I am officially undateable. Men may find me attractive, intelligent, witty or fun, and some may, usually with the aid of alcohol or animal spirits, and always with my deliberate encouragement, ask me out for dinner or to their place for, erm, dessert. But it often stops there (unless, as history has shown, he turns out to be a needy asshole). Granted, when it does, it's almost always a mutual decision.

Then there are those who may find me attractive, intelligent, witty or fun (unless I am completely off the mark in understanding their response to me), who appear to rather STAB THEMSELVES IN THE EYES than to even contemplate asking me out on a date. These men fall into two broad categories: those who nurse their crushes which eventually turn to hate when they realise that I will never respond in kind, and those who just move on. Typically, those men whom I may be attracted to myself, fall into the latter category.

I'm not even talking about men whose lives are complicated by existing girlfriends or wives, or geography.

The next time a taxi driver, or gym instructor, or colleague, or Director, or the Chief Executive (responsible for most such comments) makes a gratuitous reference to my non-existent boyfriend, I'm going to demand to know who he is because I sure as hell don't know. I will no longer play along in order to avoid the inevitable question of why I don't have a boyfriend. In fact, and especially if the presumptious interlocutor is a reasonable specimen of heterosexual male, I shall DEMAND TO KNOW exactly WHY I don't have a boyfriend.

I mean, I deserve to know don't I? It is only fair to me that The Universe reveals the reason(s) why I'm likely to die alone. DON'T I DESERVE THE SECOND CHANCE TO CHANGE??? Perfect information is necessary if You (and by You I mean the omniscient, omnipotent being in whose hands the fates of all lie) want us, want ME, to make the most of my time while I still have it.

And while You're considering that last bit, I would also be tremendously grateful if You could let me in on where I can get gorgeous heels that won't ruin me physically or financially.

Thank You.


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(there is no sound for how i feel right now)

trying to shop over the weekend was a nightmare, it's like nobody's even heard of the recession, people people everywhere and so the air did stink, i made up for it today by blowing over $600 over half an hour during lunch

i wonder if i stink, no i'm sure i don't, i smell of raspberry lychee amber patchouli and something called benzoin

this speech is the WORST ever, i've never seen as many extreme platitudes strung together over four pages of print (times new roman font size 12 single line spacing) as i have today, all the nautical allegory is making me seasick, i won't be editing it as much as i will be re-writing it, WHY ME

oh my god if they make me head maritime security i will die of irrelevance

at least i can paint, and i will have lots of time on my hands, but it won't prepare me for london, though i'm not sure if i want to go there anymore, i can't leave the cat behind

i have lots and lots of make-up and pretty dresses that need to be used used used, so fortunately for me the semi-hot semi-dorky tall strapping Spaniard and his ridiculously polite perma-tanned German doctor friend, i look forward to friday, hooray!

i wonder what's been happening on facebook

labour day weekend hooray! it's all booked in case you're wondering and you may wish to look up tanjung pinang and trikora beach la la la la la


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