Sunday, 18 March 2012

Owen hates kids.

Yesterday my flat was party central. At 1pm this tiny London flat was invaded by 25 10-year old mini humans, ready to get down, so to speak(the method of choice was Rihanna on max volume and chocolate cake)
Since I had consumed a bit more than the recommended intake for an average sized adult the previous night, I did not feel like joining the party. (Or the un-organised form of hell)  The mother, responsible for the planned chaos, had given me warnings "Close the door hard, otherwise they will most likely wander in on you". I laughed. I didnt realise the seriousness of the warning. She however, that had both seen me hungover and acted host for birthday parties before, did.

With the Yankees cap pulled down low, Uggs and mis-matched sweats, I managed to sneak out a couple of hours later. Looking mighty fine.

Yes, there is a foreign junkie renting the spare room.

Hello to no one

It has been almost a year since I've been here. I blame the thing we call life.
But after a year of terrorising all creatures around me with things one better keep to herself, it has been "discretely" suggested that I bother someone that cares. A blog with absolutely no visitors (even though the stats button is trying to boost my confidence by saying I am widely popular. I've worked in sales, I don't buy it.) seemed like the obvious choice.

Except for being, on paper, one year older (and things that comes with that such as increasing alcohol intake etc.), not much has changed.
I am still as obsessed with my own body weight as before, I still have trouble keeping my belongings in order and of off the floor, I still drink an unhealthy amount of coffee everyday and my skin is as pale as ever.

Good to be back!