Untitled

I am not sure what to call this post, because it's not really anything, yet. I just wanted to write some stuff, and anyway, it's mine, all mine so I can do what I want. And 'Untitled' things are always cool and pensive and meaningful.

I am going madder than usual because I have a Vegas-themed soiree to go to. Seeing as I have approximately ONE DAY and very, very, very limited funds, I have been brainstorming costume ideas for many hours and getting not many places. The obvious is showgirl, with leotard and headdress but I have no feathers and ARGH this is too hard.
A certain person did suggest that I go as a giant poker chip. Which is tempting but out of the question. How would I sit down?? Or dance? I think it would just be me spinning round and round in a massive hunk of cardboard. Which could be cool, and/or damaging emotionally.

The banner changed again. I prefer it, although it's not very blue. Imagine the blue-ness.

Wow I'm not very interesting today. I think it's because I have spent today inside, pottering. By pottering, I do not mean this:

Anyway, I did French homework (I know! Shock horror! Zut alors!), then stuck stuff on my wall in no particular order. Most of it consisted of lookbooks and similar that I took (don't look at me like that - they were free!) from shops in Paddington. So I have a very indie guy glowering down on me while crouching in fields wearing $300 singlets.
And by singlets, I do not mean this:

I also wrote a letter to a good friend of mine and filled it with stupid stuff, which I cannot state here because she will read it. It's both nice and frustrating to write letters. Nice because you can add personal touches (not just change of font) and throw in some glitter, buttons or pills in there subtly. It is also frustrating because I know that email is faster, and the fact that I do not know how to address a letter is, at my age, shameful. It IS a result of being a child of ninety-five (<really cool link right there) so I take no responsibility for it. Still, I know all of you have once had the wonderful feeling of receiving a letter in the mail. The excitement! Who's is from? Where's it from? Why it is suspiciously heavy? Why does it smell like paper??? The crippling disappointment when it turns out to be from Optus or Westpac (soul-sucking soul suckers) is the worst thing in the world. And as I am in a gif/random picture mood today, I will add an example of how it makes me feel.

Pretty awful, isn't it.

Well, that's all for now, folks.
I will possibly write more (edit this post) in a little while.
Also, as far as narcissism goes, my friend Yani put it well: narcissistic or not, if you want to read this blog, you can. Otherwise, don't.

arrivederci i miei amanti . That's 'goodbye, my lovers' in Italian.

Oh, I can't resist.