the prettiest star

Laugh now, but one day we'll be in charge.

Tuesday, August 30

Families. Can't beat them. Shame that.

I went for a gorgey steak dinner with my friend tonight, and it struck me how both of us did nothing but complain about having to live back at home for the holidays. And it's not just us, it seems all the students I speak to are having some kind of mental breakdown.

Take right now. I am sat, peacefully, at my laptop in our offic space upstairs. We have wireless internet, not that my computer will have anything to do with it, but my mother has decided that this is the moment- at 12am, to print out her expenses. It's really pissing me off.

Call me spoiled or selfish, whatever. This woman and her twat of a boyfriend exist only as a means of making my life more difficult.

What possesed me to come home for the holidays? Oh I remember, home is where I am style consultant/cleaner/mender of computers/ taxi. What better way to spend my summer?

It's got to the point now where I hear her boyfriend getting up and this sinking, icky feeling materialises in my stomach. He sounds like a horse, all heavy breathing and odd snorting noises. Then he emerges, never wearing more than a pair of pants and sunglasses. I don't know if his eyes are sensitive or whatever, but only a complete tosser does that.

Two weeks on Friday I officially move back to Casa of Freedom and Good People None Of Whom Are Insane.

I keep going there, for long weekends and the like, and the 16th of September cannot come soon enough. I will gladly exchange the loudest man in Spain and his bumbag for communal living.

The other day my Dad asked me if I was going to live at home after I graduate.

I told him I would live in a cardboard box with tramps before going back There.

Thursday, August 11

Only Me.

Right, so I got a WHOLE load of shit to talk about.

So. I've been working as a sales assistant in a shop called Lush in the day. It's all natural, handmade, fair traded, etc, stuff, so it's morally right up my street. I get freebies and my hair and skin look amazing now.

Up until a few days ago I worked at my local but then the landlord did a runner because the pub went into admin.

Could only happen to me.

And he owes me a weeks wages.

So I've also been quite the serial dater. I met a guy called Chris a few weeks ago, tongue piercing, sweet, but didn't want to pay for anything and got all shirty when he found out I was seeing someone else. And it wasn't like I told him I was comitted so we left him at that.

The someone else is called Arron. I met him last summer and he looks like Simon Le Bon but I never thought he would fancy me. But someone told him and I got this text saying basically, lets get it on. So we did. Then he got all shirty cuz I'm seeing two other people but it's okay now. And he takes me out proper and pays for everything but sometimes I think hes too nice for me. And he's always saying he can't get feelings for me because I'm at Uni. Such bollocks.

The other one is Ricky. He came into the pub every Thursday after playing football in little shorts and I used to shamelessly perve on him. Then one night he stayed later than usual and him and his mate were bugging me for my number. Apparantly he'd fancied me for weeks. So he picked me up in his BIG YELLOW SPORTS CAR and it was love. He's an architect and amazing in bed and built his own house and pays for everything.

So yeah. I'm seeing a lot of Ricky and occasional bits of Arron. I like being taken out and told I'm pretty and clever and have fabulous shoes.

And workwise, apart from the big pub cock up, Lush love me, apparantly my need to talk about bollocks all the time is good for customers, as is my vast knowledge about hair and skincare. I'm loving the free stuff and the discount, and the people that work there are brill. We have an insane manager from Sheffield with a mad Yorkshire accent and amazing taste in music.

Thats all I can think of today.

Tuesday, August 9

Ah, hello?

I have taken, ahem, a rather large blog holiday and I can only apologise. I just simply haven't had time, and I mean that. I work a 50 hour week and my spare time is spent sleeping or socialising.

I logged on to my emails and felt so ashamed cuz everyone was so worried, it was so sweet of you all, and thanks so much.

Its been a crazy few weeks. I am now the owner of a lovely house in Leeds, only minutes away from where one of the London bombers lived. That's all very surreal. I've dated a whole load of guys and have had a crazy time catching up with old school friends.

I got to get to work, and I bet no one will read this cuz I bet you all think I've fucked off!

If you read this, will you spread the word?