Liability Free

It's very late, and I'm falling asleep, but I would just like to say how excited I am about pursuing my goal of paying my debt off by the end of this year.

ESPECIALLY SINCE I WON'T HAVE SPEND MONEY ON PAYING FOR DINNER, AND BREAKFAST AND BUYING YOU 'FAT' COKE AND BUYING YOU DECENT BIRTHDAY/CHRISTMAS/VALENTINES PRESENTS WHEN YOU ROCK UP WITH DRESSING GOWNS. BECAUSE FOR THE RECORD, GIRLS WITH BIG BOOBS SHOULD NOT WEAR CROSS OVER, WRAP AROUND, DRESSING GOWNS. NOT THAT YOU'LL EVERY BE TOUCHING THEM (THE BOOBS) AGAIN.

Ahem.

It's like, good night time.

Time out

Let's take a break from all the hate in Martieland at the moment (but BOY, is it fun!)

I've got some EXCITING NEWS.

Yep.

I'm buying a couch.

A proper, grown up, adult couch. That more than one person can sit on at a time.

Here it is, photoshopped into my living room by my adorable little brother:



It looks a little odd because we couldn't quite get the angles right in my place, but still, you get the idea.

Anyway, I already have some money saved, and it takes eight weeks to make, so, I just pay it off during that time.

It's all so exciting. Think of all the fun I'm going to have on it!

I'm blowing in my undies as we speak.

OMG. MY CAR. SIK, MATE.

"It's not that I can't be bothered going to your house, but MY CAR is exposed on the street. OH MY GOD MY PRECIOUS CAR! You know how I am with it. There's no way we could ever have sex in it! No. There's no way we could have sex leaning up against it. There's no way I could take it to a shopping centre car park. I can't do anything with it except take it on long drives and only if I died, would you be allowed to drive it home, no actually scratch that, it's in my will that it should get taken back on a towtruck, not driven by anyone else, EVER. Actually, I'm going to be buried with it, so NO ONE CAN EVER DRIVE IT. SO NO, I'm never going to stay at your house again, because my car has to be on THE STREET *horrified gasp* and it is exposed and the poor little baby-waby is expose-y-wose-y, boo hoo, your house is evil, there are bad people that live around here and I don't want my baby exposed to that. Also, my bed is more comfortable-r"

FOR FUCK'S.

IT'S A FUCKING TOY CAR. Speak to me when you actually get a V8 engine. Fuck your toy shit off - why the fuck did you buy a car like that if you're only going to drive it to work and your mum's fucking house? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

AND - do you wanna know what makes it worse? You have a personalised number plate! Can't get much more vulgar than that. The car stands out enough - but personalised plates? So much class, right NOT there.

Also, you have paintings of ladies' straw hats on chairs overlooking a garden on your loungeroom walls. Nothing says 'I drive a fully sik WRX' than lame old-woman paintings.

Can't Be Bothered

to see you because:

* I have to clean my house

* I have to play 'Scarface'

* I have to start making dinner at my parents house

* I wanted a nap

* I had to go out with my mum

* I don't like going to your house (I NEVER SAID THAT! LIES! I JUST NEVER WANT TO GO THERE)

* I'm having dinner at my parent's house (for the 7th time this week)

* I'm just lazy and selfish, even though I've been on holidays for two weeks.

FUCK OFF THEN.

FUCK. OFF.

Also, my house may be small, with a not-so-comfortable couch, a smallish bed, and no tv in the bedroom, but at least I'm not a 27 YEAR OLD MALE WITH PRINTS OF LADIES' STRAW HATS DRAPED OVER CHAIRS LOOKING OUT A WINDOW ONTO SOME GRASS ON MY LOUNGE ROOM WALL.

"Mummy, come decorate my house for me"

TOSSER!

Routine

Bored? Want to be? Then read this next post, because as I realised today, it's a given to put you to sleep in seconds.

I present to you: my daily routine.

6:45am - Get up, get ready to go to work

7:44am - Catch train

8:30am - Start work

5:00pm - Finish work, catch train home

5:45pm - Get home, go to toilet (busting at this stage; don't like using work toilets), get changed

6:00pm - Go to parents' house for dinner

8:30pm - Come home, eat microwave popcorn

9:00pm - Read email, blogs and other internet crap

10:00pm - Play Carmen Sandiego (OLD SKOOL STYLE)

12:00am - Go to sleep

Repeat.


Fuck me. Am I not the most boring individual to inhabit that earth? The year is only four days old, and that's all I've done so far. WHAT HAPPENED TO ODD NUMBERS BEING GOOD LUCK FOR ME? No wonder why my Dream Man is avoiding me.

Speaking of which: NEWSFLASH!!!

Totally inappropriate crush!

I have a TIC on a client, no less; a married client, no less; a client that we ALL MAKE FUN OF, no less. I was talking to him today, and realised that he looked very handsome; he tanned up over the break, and gotten a haircut, and the colour of his shirt (purple) complemented him. We also get along very well, have the same sarcastic sense of humour, and can talk about anything to each other for ages. Plus he gave me a New Year's kiss and he smelled nice. MmMMMM.

He also sounds like a nice husband, because he gave his wife an eternity ring for Christmas.

So was it wrong of me to (fleetingly) hope they break up?

I'm going to hell.

At least that will be a change in my routine.

It's a new year, bitches

2006 taught me:

* Microwave popcorn is the most addictive thing on the planet

* Boys suck

* Fake tan sucks

* Diet Coke is the second most addictive thing in the world

* I have no clues when it comes to my love life; all the clues when it comes to my career

* You must use pre-packed baby spinach quickly

* How to actually like sex

* How to re-ignite my passion for reading again

* I need to start going to bed earlier

And hence, my resolutions:

* Grow some balls, dump Jungle Boy

* Pay off my debts

* Lose weight (OMG DER)

* Buy a couch

* Cook a meal & serve at my house

* Sell my car (DO YOU WANT TO BUY IT???)

* Drink water every day, building up to 2 litres again

* Read about, and understand, all types of religions

Not asking for much, am I?

True or False?

Because it's the festive season, and it's about fun, etc, we're going to play a little game down here in Martieland.

I will tell you a story, and you will have to guess if it is true or false. You could win some crappy x-mas present cast off that I don't want, so pay attention.

And, begin:

Once upon a time, a week before Christmas 2006, Martie & Jungle Boy were sitting down enjoying a meal. Jungle Boy then asked "What was happening Christmas day?"
Martie: "I'm not sure"

JB: "Well, I'm having lunch at my parents' house"

M: "So am I"

JB: "Do you want to come over and have dinner at my parents' house on Christmas night?"

M: "Well, yeah, but normally we (MARTIE FAMILY) have a few drinks at Christmas, so I might not be able to drive"

JB: "Hmmm. Ok. What about if I come and pick you up, say Hi to your parents for Christmas, etc, and then drive you back up and we'll have dinner then?"

M: "Sounds good"

Fast Forward to Christmas Eve, 4:30pm

JB: "So I'm still picking you up tomorrow afternoon"

M: "Yep, cool, see you then"

Fast Forward to Christmas Day, approx 3pm

JB: "What's happening? Are you drunk?"

M: "Only a little"

JB: "So you'll be able to drive later? Drive up here? We probably won't have dinner"

M: "Nah I don't think so. I feel okay, but don't want to chance it"

JB: "Well don't rush it"

M: "Rush what?"

JB: "Rush whatever you're doing. Come up when you feel like"

M: "What happened to you picking me up?"

JB: "So full at the moment...Who wants to drive 2 hours on Christmas Day...Oh well, if I have to come and pick you up, what can I do about it?"

M: "Don't come if you don't want to come"

JB: "Ok. I won't. Who would want to drive all that way on Christmas day?"

Fast Forward to 11:30pm, Christmas night

JB: "Are you pissed off?"

M: "Yes"

JB: "I thought so. Don't be like that"

M: "Well how come you didn't come down and see me? You've disappointed me, and you've disappointed my parents. Didn't you want to see each other? It's Christmas!"

JB: "Well...I just couldn't be bothered. Plus, me and my parents had lunch, then we were talking, then doing stuff, so there really wasn't an opportunity to come down"

M: "So you couldn't be bothered seeing me? On Christmas day?"

JB: "No, it's not that. Christmas is just a day to me. But it means a lot to other people, like my parents. Besides, we're seeing each other now"

M: "It means a lot to me. But you couldn't be bothered seeing me. Surely your parents wouldn't have minded if you were away for a little while. After all, I was going to be spending Christmas night with your family"

JB: "Yeah, well, maybe not. I don't know. I just didn't want to go down. I wanted to stay up here with my parents".

M: "What an awesome Christmas"

***

SO. Did this actually happen? Or is it just a figment of my overactive imagination?

Look kids, a post!

Heh. One big Christmas kiss for whoever clues on to which tv show that line (only substitute 'wall' for 'post') is from.

I have a ridiculously stupid last week before Christmas happening. So much to do, so little time. What's the answer? Go shopping for myself! Hurrah!

So I'm in between all the meeting & greeting and working and drinking and clients and wrapping and shopping and washing and cleaning and test-kitchening and kick-boxing, and, I'm fucked.

So...because I probably won't get around to blogging before the 25th, in the tradition of last year's christmas card:

I'd just like to show you my new Christmas outfit



And wish you all a very sexed-up Festive Season.

M xxx

Marriage is imminent

Yes. Through all the doom and gloom, rises up a wedding. And who doesn't love a good nuptial knees-up?

The object of my affection:




Just can't get enough.

On a happier note...

Because the best friend stuff is too DEPRESSING at the moment, especially after I called and left a message tonight saying 'let's talk, I don't want to lose you as my best mate, etc, etc' and then didn't get a call/text message back. So instead, to celebrating my achievements!

***

Achievements, you say? What sort. Well, it's not quite climbing Everest or finding a cure for alzhiemers, but for me, they're big.

1. Went to kickboxing. The first, non-sexual form of physical activity I have done in the past three weeks.

2. Put some washing on mid-week and hung it out. Because normally I end up with piles of it on a Saturday, then combined with my crappy 1&a half wash cycle and almost-zero line space, it never gets done.

3. Watered my plants. They were thirsty.

4. Bought myself a roast chicken from Safeway (Hi, Mars), cut all the breast meat (mmmmmmm, breast meat) off the bone, and stored in container ready to make sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. Why buy my lunch every day, when I am trying to save for a couch>

5. Made a list of the all things (Tissues, bottle of water, etc) that I have to take to work tomorrow. Because I'll be rushing, and at least I won't forget anything.

6. Used some tanning cream disguised as moisturiser, and now am starting to develop and lovely brown glow. And patchy areas around my ankles & feet. Alright, not quite the achievement I was looking for, but it puts me one step closer to girly-ness, non?

7. Changed a light globe. Scared of the dark.

AND

8. Made an appointment to get my hair cut. Fingers crossed; I want a full fringe with longer bits on the sides, a semi-permanant glossy chocolate brown put it, darker & lighter brown foils put in for a bit of depth, and a couple of random blonde patches around my fringe for something interesting. If it works out okay, I'll post a picture.


So. Congratumalations to me. 'Dere's some might fine achievements in my life right there, nothing exciting, but with all that's going on, it's good to know that the organisational part of my brain can kick in, and I'm still a fully functioning member of society.


For now.

The root of the problem (PS - OMGWTF LONG POST AHEAD)

Firstly, I will address the comments on the previous post (really only 'cos I'm lazy)


* Yes, Jungle Boy & I had broken up

* That is correct, we got back together

* Jungle Boy is smart, attractive (to me), funny, sexy, placid (to my sometimes hysteria) and has goals & ambitions. I stick with it because A) - we have a great time when we're together, no pressure on B) - The sex is great & C) - I'm afraid of being lonely, which sort of counteracts all the 'relationship shit' that seems to pop up.

* Yes, having someone say 'Do what you want', to me is like saying, 'I don't care either way' - IE - you're not important enough for me to care enough.

*****

However, let's forget Jungle Boy for the moment, for men are easily replaceable, friends are not.

My best friend & I have been mates since we were wee lasses, spending our Saturdays at Netball.

We've got wasted together, we've cried together, we've picked up together, we've lived together, etc etc.

I was maid of honour at her wedding; I am godmother to her son.

However, lately, our relationship has really been deteriorating. She spent a year in QLD, then came back at the start of this year, to give a relationship with what possibly may be her perfect match a go.

She's a very vague kind of a person; as much as I love her, she has no direction in life, and at times can be very selfish. When I say no direction, I mean she knows what she wants, but she's constantly shifting the goalposts around, and changing the aim every so slightly.

She tends to break plans easily; or becomes vague about stuff she's not really interested in. I don't know if it's deliberate, or if that's just how she is. I 99% sure it's the latter, but I have seen the deliberate side once or twice, however, I'm always giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Since she's been back in Melbourne, and with NZ (her man), this stuff has happened a touch more frequently.

Then sometimes, when she wants to do something, and I've already got plans (with Jungle Boy most of the time - she hates him), she'll get all sulky with me because I'm not just dropping what I'm doing. Arghhhh!

In August this year, NZ went overseas. All of a sudden, we're back to seeing each other again, nearly every day of the week. We were exercising together, watching tv together, cooking together, having our girly chats, etc. It was like old times.

She then went to meet NZ overseas for a holiday. When she came back, she was like a different person. Despite me ringing, and texting her, she didn't get in contact with me for about a week, put off (in her vague way) having dinner together so I could get all the holiday goss, and similar.

I found out what had happened; NZ & her had, despite all her statements to the contrary, that she wanted to take things slow, etc, decided to move in together. I was apprehensive. Sure, they'd known each other for years, but had only been a couple for not even six months.

At this point, I would like to state that I was possibly jealous, as well as geniunely concerned. Only because the chances of me moving in with a boy at any stage in the near future, are slight to none. Hmmph.

I also must admit that her breaking our plans, or just not contacting me, was starting to get on my nerves, so I started to do the same back, or just say that I was unavailible in the first place. Again, even if I had genuine plans that I'd made two weeks in advance, she'd still sook if I wouldn't go out with her.

With my best friend, it's always Her first, second & last.

I won't go into the whinging; suffice to say, she's never happy with anything. With work, the hours are either too long, so she changes jobs with shorter hours; not enough, so she changes again for more hours, and so on. But I've probably done my fair share of Jungle Boy whinging, so the point is moot.

However, the last straw came when she didn't wish me a happy birthday a month ago. Not even a text message. People I see once a year, or not even at all, could be bothered to send me a text message, but she even rang me, and didn't say anything at all. Only to go on about her's & NZ's latest fight ("I'm moving out", etc).

Really really hurt by that. Really hurt.

And then last week, after telling me to keep the Saturday night free for her birthday, she goes and changes it to the Friday and sulks when I can't come, because I have my Christmas Party to go to. Didn't return my texts or calls all weekend, and tonight, after I rang her to see what she was doing, found out she was at dinner, and I wasn't invited.

Really hurt again.

People I know say that it's just her, I have to deal with it if I want to be friends with her. Some people won't associate with me if she's with me (that is how many people she's put offside in the past). Jungle Boy can't stand her. My Mum & Dad, who have long been like a second set of parents to her, don't really want to see her anymore.

It's killing me because I can literally see our relationship slipping away. However, she seems to be quite content playing happy families with NZ & her son, and doesn't have the time for me anymore? Or am I just being unreasonable? I probably could try harder, but how much shit should I put up with?

I know that I probably need to sit down and talk to her about all of this. I'm just scared of the outcome. She's the type of person that could just say, 'Fuck it, I don't need this shit' and let it end there and then. I don't want that to happen; she's my best mate, we've seen each other through all sorts of crap, and it shouldn't end over a guy.

Sometimes I think I'm too gutless to dump Jungle Boy, because it means I'll be the one by myself, and no one to lean back on when she's off doing her own thing. I've said previously on here that friends don't come easily with me know; after some really harsh bitchiness, it takes a lot to gain my trust and that can often make me seem aloof.

What do you think? Am I being too harsh? Am I justified in sitting her down and telling her how I feel? Or should I just let it be? I miss our drunken nights out, I miss our shopping sprees, I just miss hanging around her. But with a child, and now a live-in partner, am I being too demanding of her time?

Who the fuck knows, but I know one thing: This is causing me even more sadness than the whole Jungle Boy saga. As I said, guys aren't the end of the world, but losing a friend is everything.

I should just be sleeping or something.

I really shouldn't be going out with Jungle Boy.

I left my work's Christmas party at 10:30pm on Friday night.

I think I'm afraid of people.

I'm contemplating just heading into the city on NYE (SO EARLY, I KNOW) to watch the fireworks by myself.

I have a disastrous money situation, and I'm not sure how to get out of it.

The only positive thing in my life right now is work (not Bendigo Bank work either). Work, I can excel in, work gives me a purpose, I'd rather stay at work, where there are boundaries with people, than go out, where there are not.

The only thing I seem to have the energy/enthusiasm for is to read books.


******

Ok, so thinking about what brought this on. I was speaking to Jungle Boy earlier tonight, regarding the possibility of going to Europe/Egypt next year. I want to go, I want to make it a goal, but it depends on so many things; selling my car, getting payrise, etc, etc. An excerpt from the conversation:

Martie: "I don't know when we will be going"

Jungle Boy: "It all comes down to your finances"

Martie: "Yeah, I'm hoping for it to be this time next year"

Jungle Boy: "Well I've got my money and my leave sorted. So it's up to you"

Smug & arrogant? Or Factual? His comment made me feel really bad. And I told him so too. Yet:

Jungle Boy: "I didn't mean it like that"

Oh Lordy.

******

You wanted a saga, you've got it. Perhaps I can make this in to a study of dating really inappropriate men? The life & times of my relationship with Jungle Boy. I'm excited already.

Not.


So many people have told, and tell me to "dump his arse". The question is - why can't I? Pathetically weak springs to mind.

But not much else, because I really should be sleeping.

Goodnight.

DOUBLE CENTURY

THIS IS MY 200TH POST. I'M JUST GOING TO POST THIS AND MOVE ON.

I just didn't want to make my 200th depressing, which it will inevitably be.

THE END

I ask two questions, you give me two answers:

Ok. First up. This first question is probably better posed to someone like Lillian Frank, but dear old 'Lil has been giving me the shits lately, so I'm going to ask the wider audience to confirm:

When going to a restaurant, (NOT a cafe, not a 'casual' eatery, but a real-life, grown up restaurant), and you're asked to wear something 'nice', is it appropriate for you to wear; black skate shoes with white socks, jean shorts, and a T-shirt with the words 'STFU University' on it?? Discuss


***


Secondly. Can you be 'attracted' to a number of people, without ever wanting to be with them, or even grab* them, or rip their clothes off in a fit of passion? I realised today that I am attracted to my team leader, but I'd never go there, for a whole host of reasons, the least of all that he is my superior. I just felt funny when he touched me. Discuss.



*Grab - apparently what the kidz are calling kissing these days. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE CONFIRM - I FEEL SO ANTIQUATED.

Martie: Diary of a crazy person

Emergency, Emergency!

The other night, I found that I was unable to masterbate to crappy resolution free intermanet porn until I cleaned my teeth.

What is with that?

Am I some sort of sick, hygenic freak?

Help me.

***

I was reading my archives from this time last year. I was solidly on the detox path, and still pining for the Ex-Fucker.

I'm not quite detoxing at the moment, but still choosing the healthier eating options. At the moment, I'd have to say my favourite part of my body is my shoulders.

I'm not pining for the Ex-Fucker, but must admit I was EXTREMELY FUCKING DRUNK the other night and actually text him. After all I went through to change my number.

He actually guessed it was me, and I text back telling him I was sorry, it was a drunken mistake, and it wouldn't happen again. Seems like it did the trick.

I'm actually not pining for anyone at the moment. Is this good? Yes, yes I think it is. I'm still having casual sex (albeit with the same person), which has graduated into a 'meal' thing (AS IN EATING A MEAL TOGETHER GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER), but it's not going to go anywhere. Reminds me too much of Jungle Boy.

***

OK, FUCK! It is Jungle Boy. It's a whole sordid story and another post and now I feel embarrassed for admitting it.

Just enjoy your weekend, and join me in congratumalating Desci for the handing of the thesis in today. Hurrah for her. And not about Jungle Boy.

Another hyped-up random question brought to you by Ribena Berry Juice at 12am

Do you think that I could be a brickie?



They make lots of money



They get really tanned

tradies lifestyle, etc.


Apparently we are 'crying out' for brickies; skillz shortages, etc, etc. I need to make a quick buck, thanks to my friend, the Australian Tax Office, and my previous boss' inability to deduct the correct HECS payment.

So, bricks + me = perfect relationship? What do you think?

Cons?


Early starts



Carrying these fuckers around all day



Bricks are generally boring.



Fuck, not such a good idea after all.


Although...


I would give good builders' crack

Such is the way of the world...

An interesting conversation with my boss last week, saw me declaring that I wasn't going to get married, or have babies any time soon.

A)-not worth the hassle - Divorce, etc &
B) - need to find the right partner.

What's the bet that I find the man of my dreams and totally fall in love/get married/start talking kids within the next 12 months? I'm picturing a New Years Eve proposal, non?

That shit always happens to me.

***

Slutty Slut Sluts

Hi,

I recently came to a startling revelation;

Calling someone a slut in the derogatory sense, is not cool.

Sure, in high skool, if Tiffany kissed one boy one week at a party, then kissed another boy the next week at a party, it would be OMG, SLUT! *whisper whisper whisper* "OMG HERE COMES THE SLUT" "Hi Tiff, how lucky are you to kiss..." "SLUT"*

But saying it now, is just...meh.

Most people don't even use it for its original meaning - IE - A girl that sleeps around (NB - Not a dictionary definition. Also, obviously, Boys are Not Sluts, etc). So someone just kissed a guy you liked? Not a slut. Please correct.

Besides, a woman's sexual liberation is growing and growing all the time, to a point where the true meaning of the word slut is growing redundant.

So. I would like to apologise to anyone that I have called a slut. I'm unreservedly sorry.

Especially directed to the young lady that I called a slut in my head about half an hour ago; I don't even know you. Also, my motivation was most likely jealousy, not because you slept with 100 guys in 100 days, etc.

Excellent. I feel better already.

Would you like to take back any slut-calling?


* WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS SCENARIO???
When I was at high school, 'OMG' hadn't even been invented yet. Bad re-enactment, Martie.

Numberzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shit. I give to you...shit, motherfuckers.



1 - is how many times I wore my bathers.

2 - is how many hotdogs I had for my birthday dinner.

3 - is how many failed boxed trifectas I had on the dogs @ Shep before I pulled the pin on Saturday night.

4 - is how many poos I've done today (Tuesday)*

5 - is how many alcoholic units I consumed over the course of the entire weekend (SEE HOW CLEAN LIVING AND SOBER I AM???)

6 - is how many drunk teenagers you need to hang out in the main street, before it can be officially known as the 'drunk teenagers drinking & hanging out spot'.

7 - is the number of times I cried on my birthday because the weather turned had turned crap and there was no sun to be seen for days and it was ruining my 'perfect' holiday.

8 - is the number of goes I had trying to call my mum on the payphone, before I gave up. It has been YEARS since I used a payphone.

9 - is quite possibly the number of years since I used a payphone.

10+ - is the number of hairs left on my vajootz after Thursday night's wax & tan.

23 - is the number of clean pairs of underwear that I took away with me.

16 - is the number of clean pairs of underwear that I brought back with me.

9,999,999 - is the number of flies I had to deal with.

Infinity - is how cool I looked in my 'holiday hat'



* See - I told you I'd give you shit

What WOULD you do for coins???

This girl, apart from being my 'homie', has come out with possibly my favourite line ever in response to some slut who left a retarded comment on her blog:

"It's not like I'm doing anal for coins"

G-old! Not exactly sure what it all means; not all that au fait with the sex industry. BUT. Love it all the same. I think it's the combination of the word 'anal' & 'coins' in a sentence. Heh. 'Coins'.

Anyway. Go visit her. And experience the glory that is anal & coins & trolls. Despite what some grogbloggers spies cunts say, she IS teh hottness!

Hmmm.

Martie's Dad: "Martie! Stop drinking so much!"

Martie: "But Dad, it's not like I'm doing anal for coins".

-

Martie's Boss: Martie! Stop looking at the internet during work hours!"

Martie: "But boss, it's not like I'm doing anal for coins during work hours".

Oh. Slighly obsessed.

***

I should apologise for the confusion (Sorry Enny with my previous posts.

I had intended to post about my bathers buying adventures where it appears that chocolate and aqua lycra renders one's bra size three sizes larger than normal and I attempted to try on this

and after the saleswoman pulled back the curtain, her first comment was "They're a bit in your face, aren't they?".

She also told me to get a spray tan. So guess what I'm doing Thursday night.

***

And this is all in aid of what?? My holiday! I leave Friday, 6am, for the South coast of NSW. Please pray for nice (new-bathers-wearing, spray-tan-showing-off) weather for me.

HAHAHA.

And, to make things even more exciting - MONDAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!

A balloon to celebrate.

So it's birthday holiday of beach, sun, pubs, chicken parmagiana and greyhound betting.

Enjoy!