Ok, so Mr Andrew Pants is going to come to a hot yoga class with me tonight! (Post note: he did not go, but read the next blog to find out how he coped when he did come!).After knowing each other for six years he's finally decided to come to the class that will officially kick his little arse. I am looking forward to it. I have missed going to hot yoga and anticipate the massive rush of endorphin's that flow like small spiritual dolphins of love and energy through my newly oxygenated blood. Endolphins.
Last night I went over to Feather's and we drank wine and ate pizza, stuffed ourselves beyond capacity, did an angel card reading, and talked about work, men and clothes.
Work:
Applied for two jobbies today, one as an employment advisor for the intellectually disabled, the other is possibly for writing advertorials. I would love to do advertorials. I used to make up different versions of advertisements for fun as a child. Of course, mine were always the sick and twisted version, but isn't it great to realise you've always harboured such a talent? I wrote a wonderful cover letter for it, which is bound to be ignored, but if not, well, the world could be my green lipped mussel!
I currently have a small part time job organising appointments for a therapist; this makes the difference between putting petrol in the car and paying my cell phone bill.
Men
Well, as I've said just recently, I surrender. I could possibly make myself annoying, ordinary and vapid and I might get snapped up, but I just can't do it. I'm going to have to remain weird, emotional and full of love. It does mean there are less proverbial fish in my sea, but that's o.k. I'd rather be single than settle for Less. Simon continues to call me, but really he just wants me to get on it, so that's hardly flattering. He said I behave like a startled rabbit sometimes, but that's what happens when one is confronted with a wolf. Hot wolf. No. No, stop it. No walking in the woods for me. Caught up with Peter The Runner on Monday; Tieneke and I visited and had a spa. I kept my wine consumption to a minimum and we all talked about drugs, sex and employment. Fun times. I haven't heard from The Painter, a pity, I'd hoped we were going to actually be friends, but perhaps it's just not meant to be. Fortunately I am dripping in good friends.
If friends were gold chains, and I was an ostentatious rapper, then my neck would be weighed down with a few high quality pieces.
Oh my god, it's already after 4pm and I have to get my bum to hot yoga! Jeeze, where does the time go?
Clothes:
I am the op shop Queen, or at least a Princess. I find such good things, it's ridiculous. This is what comes of unemployment! Well dressed and relaxed. Attending art galleries, pondering the meaning of dreams, going to the library. People will ask what I do and perhaps I'll reply "I go to op shops". Surely that would be enough?
Oh, and I made a necklace too. A little skull on a long gold chain. Looks good, goes well with the one I got from St Kevin's arcade at First Thursday's last week.
Speaking of Thursday, that means there's something on at Black Asterix again. Something to do with those Bratz type dolls and how they encourage little girls to value excessive slimness, cuteness and sexiness from a young age. I'm going to value my big bum tonight and dress to exaggerate it. May as well!
See you there, and if we never meet, that's ok, you know we're all one anyway.
xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment