I’m Avril Lavigne on the 43 bus.

I’m so tired. It’s a combination of smacking my pitch up at
work, and going to Dublin last weekend.

My bloody flight was delayed by an hour
which had a horrible knock-on effect which resulted in me, looking and feeling like Avril Lavigne in one of
her more ‘I’m alone and it’s raining’ type music videos (the kind you watch
when you need inspiration to make yourself cry (or perhaps not if you’re not a
robot like me)) Where was I? Oh yes, Easyjet fucked it up therefore I became
Avril Lavigne, waiting at a bus stop at bloody flippin’ dickin’ Finsbury Park.
Note- the 43 DOES NOT pick up from Liverpool Street. You may only alight here. Side
note- ‘alight’ is one of my most favourite words. The lady’s voice on the
tannoy (tannoy is not a word apparently) always assumes you’re part of the
royal ballet and are about to gently, oh so lightly, step off the underground. Sure-footed,
with a bonnet on yer’ head. When in reality you burst out of the doors,
desperately trying to not fall in to the DEATH GAP. Jeese. So yeah, I’m tired.

My birthday
is on the 9^th of July. Which is kind of exciting but
also a bit like, ‘oh shit, I’ll be 24’… which if you’re reading this and you’re
older than that, you’ll be like, ‘shut the fuck up.’ BUT HEY. Didn’t you also
feel the same at 24? I was supposed to have a boyfriend and a horse by now.

Last time I
BLOGGED was THREE WEEKS AGO. That’s shoddy. Sorry. Sorry for being shoddy.
Fucking right I need a coffee.

I’ve
started eating Rivitas with cottage cheese, tomato and balsamic vinegar glaze.
This recipe is actual proof that sometimes, you CAN polish a turd.

I went to
Dublin for Strawb’s birthday. Every time I go to Dublin I have every good
intention of SEEING DUBLIN, then end up in some weird village miles from where
I should be. The same thing happened again and I went to freaking Kildare.
Although, Kildare was freaking good- I saw Tod sing a song called, ‘Mind
Yourself’, and MJ managed to hitchhike from about two hours away using a
cardboard sign with all the different stops.

I bought
tickets to Budapest in August accidentally when I was ONE PINT DRUNK- I can’t
exaggerate here, I literally had one pint then felt really giddy and booked it.
I’m glad though. Gonna try convince Mum and Dad to buy me the festival ticket
for my birthday, then I’m gonna try sell my kidney for spending money. Fun fun.

Talking of
making money, I’ve put loads of my clothes on eBay. I can’t say I’m surprised
that nothing’s sold yet- the crock of shit that I’ve put up for auction is
quite embarrassing. Do you ever buy something and think, ‘yes, this is quite
nice. It’s a bit whacky, but I’ll make it work.’ Well, I’ve included one
perfect deluded example up there ^ alongside what I was intending the dress to
make me look like. Fuck-you-very-much reality.

Sticky Fingers
cancelled their gig a few weeks back which was pants, but what can ya do? They’ve
rescheduled for November, so everyone just stay calm.

I’ve been
wanting to try to products from a shop called LUSH for ages, so on me lunch
break I bought some BLUE FACEMASK and some bloody BANANA SHAMPOO and then
ANOTHER FREAKIN FACE MASK and FOR SOME REASON SOME FACE SERUM. Probably shouldn’t have that gone gun-ho But hey, I’m a girl and the packaging was really
nice and the lady said I good skin AND I’M WEAK. Anyhoo, I’ve shoved a piccie
of my moon-face covered in the wonderful blue goo. 

I was meant
to go to yoga with JP today, but last night I joined a merry band of Aussie
Rules players to a bowling alley, therefore got completely inebriated. Instead
of yoga, I shall be doing my own form of exercise called, ‘downward facing
roast dinner.’

My cat got
stuck in the fridge this week (I live in a pub, it was one of those huge cold
rooms). She was there for hours so then spent the following night warming her
arse on my face. Cute.