Fairy tale of New York

its seven thirty, in the morning. yes. im awake...not thats the wrong word to use...im UP.
Also, i was up till twelve thirty making shortbead bikkies. YES. baking.
Also, i am going to Sydney tonight. Yes. the night train. That so swetly involves sitting next to some weird lismore guy (you know with no teeth, a jack daniels t-shirt, thongs...) and not being able to read, because they turn the lights off. It also involves freezing my ass of, as they tunr the air conditioning UP, when the lights go out...of course my butt gets cold, but worse then that you cant get comfortable. you dont want to have your arm or leg hanging over aywhere near the Jonny Spitts character next to you, you start to fall asleep, you think, "yeah, now im good", and your butt comes into contact under the arm-rest, with a hard, luke warm butt, that is attached to Jonny. You are both awake, you both know it has happned, all you can do is cringe and suffer the 12 hour long silence, or until one of you get off.

yes. i love christmas.
Im gonna miss you.

kitty and seaweed.

my cat (at mums), whos name is possum, eats nori. and no with the rice and all, just the sheets....dry sheets of seaweed. ha, thats funny.

also i passed maths!

also...um....yeah.

HA.
you should read roverandom...by tolkien

till i saw the stars and no longer feared hell.

i dont know why i persist. i think i just like to blog, though noone can appreciate it. hmm, to post or not to pst, that is the question. my devoted commentors seem to have abandoned me, even Mr Anon.

i was in pain. it shuddered right through me. i was fine, for a while, and then all of a sudden i could not walk, or breath. I could see black and white specks dancing around as white light shot through my body into my brain and burnt it till it knew i had to be made to scream. i got up to walk it off. a little groggy yes, but it was bareable. then i it moved over me. my legs gave out, and it was such a sudden knock that i couldnt even scream as i hit the ground. i couldnt breath at all. then it subsided enough for me to breath in and scream out. the tears streamed and the air was thick and the pain was thicker and had i the stregnth i would have ended it. drugs did little but make me through up. i was dieing. i dramatise it not. i call it PMS. Pain Much Sucks.

sing

well,
the night of our formal we (Rachel, Jessica my sister, and I) were stopped by a very drunk woman we were reasonably scared, for a good reason she was off her tits, and then she started to yell at us that we shouldnt be scared of her coz she was aboriginal, and we tried to tell her that that had nothing to do with it, just the fact she was very drunk and very intimidating and up in Rachels face and was slapping her arm. but i cant be bothered to go into detail...

anyway so im like working for bloody Kirby now. Sigh

i doorknock for $6/hr with $50 commission and i will be booking girl for $12/hr with $15 commission


umm

i dunno

i dont know why i bother.