Stupid digestive tract.

I wish I had money

so I could buy this necklace or

this brooch ( I really am so in love with you why is shipping so expensive)

or this necklace

I spent all my money on Quinoa, Amaranth and coconut flour and other hippy gluten free bullshit, all so I can live a fucking longer and happier life without being a gas bag.

But what's the fucking point if I can't have a toucan brooch.

Life was so much easier when I lived off Mi Goreng and toast and spent the money I had left over on new clothes, ahh those were the days.

Stupid digestive tract.

I NEED A MAN!!

OK the title sounds desperate and in many ways I am desperate...

OK I'm not really desperate but I have just been out all night dancing the night away and I am ready to jump and maul the nearest human being.

So help me people where does one find someone who doesn't mind being mauled at 5am on a Sunday morning? I am willing to pay***








***Payment would be made in compliments or preserves or a combination of both, to be used within six months of said mauling

Deryn wants to move to Armidale

Mother is planning on moving back to San Francisco

In the meantime I will be here in Sydney

We will all be a considerable distance apart from each other which a good thing politically, OK I'm not pissed off about Mum going back to America, I like her a lot more when she is overseas, and it means I can use visiting her as an excuse when I go to Tijuana on drinking binge holidays.

I am however pissed off about Deryn, he should move to Sydney with me and cook stuff for me on demand, not go further away and cook stuff for other people on demand.

OK I am more pissed off with me because I'm at a crossroads and have been tempted to change courses (yet again) and go back to my original plan of teaching, and also leaving Sydney.

But of course I would suck as a teacher and really would only be doing it for the holidays.

Can someone make a decision for me and tell me what to do?, I hate being a grown up and having to do all this crap for myself.

As a thank you I'll make you some jam.

My bad luck: brought to you by the letter "L"

I just went rummaging through my lame-ass attempt at "The worlds greatest D.V.D. collection" thinking what would be a good movie to drink cocoa to before bed, I don't feel like anything too draining.

As I looked through my collection, a shimmering white cover caught my eye, it was a recent purchase of mine a lucky one as it was only ten dollars, it was the D.V.D. of one of my favourite musicals "Gigi"

As I settle down with my cocoa, ready to watch a lovely movie I open the case and see the hideous image of Jennifer Lopez grabbing Ben Affleck by his shirt and in hideous purple letters "Gigli"

Anyway the point of the story is one stray "l" has ruined my night

Bloody Cycles

I hate being a girl, I hate being controlled by the surging hormones that come from my front bottom area, it's not the blood that irks me, the blood is nothing (we just over dramatise it to get out of things we want to avoid) it's the fact that last week I wanted to sleep all day, this week I want to fuck anything that moves and next week I'll want to bake cakes and talk about my feelings then forget immediately what I did and then bake more cakes and talk more about my feelings.

Just rereading that statement you could easily say, well dear it sounds more like Manic Depression... wait did I say that? that's not very polite of me of course I meant to say Bipolar Disorder, but alas I cannot blame it on my mind because once 'The Reds vacation in the summer house' I am a normal person again for a week or two.

should I sue?

I was in a book store today and some graphic designer has obviously been heavily inspired by my rear end, (minus the stretch marks and cellulite)

What if I'm not the only one with my tattoo, what if someone else has the exact same thing on their lower back, I'm all worried now.

Ok my tattoo isn't exactly the same, it looks completely different, but it does have the word tattoo in it.


I'm really pathetic aren't I?

good...ish

Dead Dad Day went a lot better than expected, mainly because I slept most of it, then I went to work at 'The Restaurant' I forgot how good I am as a waitress, people seem to like me a lot more when I'm serving them, which is fine as I think in some sick way I like to serve people.

The boss is a very vain man who has decked out 'The Restaurant' in every possible tacky souvenir possible and there is an entire wall of photoshopped images of him surrounded with fairy lights, he is easily angered and refuses to wear his glasses while working so he cannot read the orders and complains loudly because I haven't written things in metre high letters for him.

The staff is his wife, a woman who seems non talkative, a hodgepodge of Nepalese youth on holiday visas, a couple of young men with young wives and newborn children to support, they all collectively cringe when I raise my voice or question the boss, one of the workers went so far as to shoosh me when I vocalised my conflicting opinions... but I will persevere as I need money and this job gives me the three magic words that makes it all worthwhile 'Cash in Hand'

Another year another Dead Dad Day

It's odd I hate the 13th of April (tomorrow) , I will hate it for the rest of my life, it's only a day. I mean the thirteenth of April has nothing to do with my father's death, but I still would rather blame it than cigarettes, fatty food, and the stress of existence.

I wish sometimes I was one of those people that could break down and cry, one of those emotionally open people that can talk about their feelings and 'workshop' my emotions... but I'm not, I can't stand those people that do, I think it's incredibly selfish personally, so when someone comes to me with a problem or a dillema I nod I smile I suggest nonsensical crap and lots of alcohol.

Now I'm off to take my own advice.

P.S. yes I know alcohol isn't a solution but I am much more of a band-aid solution kinda girl

All work and no wheat makes Kimberly go something
All work and no wheat makes Kimberly go something
All work and no wheat makes Kimberly go something
All work and no wheat makes Kimberly go something
All work and no wheat makes Kimberly go something

I just realised after typing it out five time I could of just copied and pasted it four more times.

See what happens when I don't get any toast.

Doctor made me give up wheat again because it made me think I was pregnant.

She said that wheat was a bad influence on me and we couldn't be friends anymore, which is a shame because I loved wheat I really did, wheat completed me filled me with it's starchy love, visited me in so many forms as pasta, as freshly baked bread rolls, as biscuits and in beer but no more I have to be yet again one of those gluten free wankers.

It could be worse I suppose, I could be short.

P.S. wheat free stuff is really expensive

'The Americano' leaves tommorrow, which makes me sad.

Not in a melodramatic 'Anna Karenina throw myself on the train tracks' kind of way, but in a 'aww geeze that's the way life goes' kind of way, I mean the last few months have been lots of fun.

Plus regular high quality sex, I have found out that when I'm getting laid I'm much more tolerable to be around.

So yeah I want some sympathy, and a battery operated bedroom aid, or something to help strengthen my wrists.

In a couple of days I will turn 23.

Do you know what that means?

It means in two days I will officially be in my mid-twenties.

OK it really means I'll be unofficially in my mid-twenties, I'll actually be officially in the early to mid twenties age bracket.

This of course means nothing to you, because you are a sane individual, but to me it means that I am ageing and closer to death, it means I have not gotten any closer to any of my goals, it means that I am rapidly progressing to my inevitable demise of dying alone in my flat tangled in the wool of countless unfinished knitting projects and having my remains eaten by my forty cats.

It also means that I get to gorge on six dollar cocktails and teppanyaki soon.

With the invention of my bills for next month exceeding my income, today turned out to be crap.

Then the tripping on my feet and tearing off half a toenail made the day slightly more crappier

With the addition of a Boy standing me up on date, the day turned out to be crappier still

(ok boy didn't stand me up he called me well in advance and told me he was ill and promptly rescheduled our date, but it's the principle damn it!)