i suppose i'll postpone my canonisation.

on the way home last night, i was turning around the s-bends two minutes away from my house when i saw a creature - a small boy? - huddled up on the side of the street. this particular stretch of road is surrounded by bush and trees and that is no place for little boys, what with the boy-eating lizards and wild suburban boars that only come out at night. i hastily (and fairly dangerously) turned around in the closest street and went back to save him. if it had been a film, the only thing that i would have added would have been some tyre-burning smoke and maybe a pair of unnecessary sunglasses.

slowly, as i approached this person sitting on the curb, the headlights began to dampen my heroism. this was not, in fact, a small boy dressed in rags who had been thrown out by his abusive parents, but a very very broody goth, with oversized doc martens, black lipstick, and holes in her clothing that were very much intentional. my cover being totally blown by this point, i hesitantly asked her if she was ok, to which she politely replied, "piss off." this is one more episode to contribute to the mounting evidence that i will never accumulate enough good karma to move into my own bedroom, for instance. or find a bra that supports, lifts, and solves world poverty.

the beginning of the end

it's happened. i have bought shampoo for "thinning hair." i will now retreat to a rocking chair in a tented floral dress where i will not even bother reading a book for fear my eyes have stopped working and will pre-empt the premature rotting of my teeth by switching to puréed roast beef and force-feed myself metamucil immediately.

eating is my favourite procrastinating device.

judging by the six-month pregnancy bloat i endure every time i eat dairy, there is a good chance i am lactose intolerant. however, this is like saying that i get hives every time i wipe my arse. no rash will stop me from cleaning my rear, and no indigestion - no matter how ugly, sonorous or painful the experience - will keep me from delicious, lactose-laden terrorists.

cereal and tuna

yes, i'm the one in woolworths shaking the boxes and tins of everything i buy because i refuse to pay full price for something that is only half full. i am on to you people.

and no, i am not a "hat person"

it's ok when there are bits of hair missing on the back of my head, because i can pin other bits of hair over it. but what exactly is the correct procedure for a receding hair line? i feel like everybody stares at the sides of my head because they're totally naked with only a few pubes sticking out and maybe it's time to shave my head completely because then, at least, my head would be equally embarrassed and no one would ever have to say, "there goes that girl with rude bits on the sides of her head."