Talk about a mind-warping 48 hours. Friday was set to be the worst day I 'd had in a while. It was just one crappy thing after another, with Evie's 21st as the light at the end of the tunnel. I was going to document the Day From Hell with photos, but in the true spirit of the day, I forgot my camera ( Read more... )

She followed me around the supermarket, ensuring I didn't knowingly buy anything that wasn't on the allowed-foods list. I got a salad and some shaved chicken.

It smelt like feet. No, worse. Honest. Ask anyone.

I can smell it on my hands.

I can hear strange noises coming from directly above me. Either someone's using a plunger on their toilet, using a staple gun on a bathtub of jelly or there's a turkey giving someone a really noisy BJ. Of course, living in this building one can never tell.

(And how awesome is my new icon?)

So, it's day two, right? And it was all going awesome right up until I finished work. And my buckling? Not my fault. The caving? I totally blame Cosy Cake Shop and their neon signs screaming at me to buy their $1.50 slices. Did I know they were that cheap when they lured me in their with their promise of sugar and chicken salt? No. But if they hadn ( Read more... )

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Tomorrow is Monday. A start to a new week. A start to a new month.

Tomorrow, I start the diet. It's the first rules-y diet I've ever seen and haven't been able to pull to absolute shreds. So, I did a little research, hoping to find some expert that could tell me all the things that are wrong with it so I can have an excuse to dismiss it and ( Read more... )

Mysterious, authoritative voice over: The following conversation takes place between 9.35 and 9.40am."Wanna go shopping?" (In a voice I can only assume was meant to imitate Kristin ( Read more... )

Oddly, there's something truly satisfying about going down to Star Mart in your slippers (despite the rain) to spend vast amounts of money on magazines, Coke and sugary treats.

There's nothing quite like living in the central city. It's all perks and quick walks to work anywhere. Except on Sunday mornings. Because they're worse than Saturday mornings, oh yes. It's on days like these I thank God I'll probably be back in the 'burbs by the end of the year ( Read more... )

1. Were you named after anyone?

Of course. I was named after a sweet old lady my mother nursed late into her pregnancy. She was a "dear thing", apparently. She had reverted back to her childhood. Appropriate, no? I imagine she smelled like cabbage old lady.

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