pimlico's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- stranded at the drive-in, branded a fool - what will they say, monday at school? I hate feeling grumpy on sunny days. It makes me feel cheated... Things are alright, really, I'm just pissed off with things in general. It is my birthday next month which suggests that I should be behaving a manner more appropriate for a grown-up lady. Either that or have a premature midlife crisis and go emo. Whichever's easier. I dunno, I can't seem to do "summer-y" all that well. I like it, but it appears to hate me. I cannot wear vest tops as I have an irrational fear of my own bingo wings*. Hayfever causes sneezing fits and fetching red eyes. My pasty skin needs a coat of Factor 30+ or gets horrific sunburn. Factor 30, for fuck's sake. Anything higher is practically a wetsuit. I like to leave the window open when I sleep to make my bedroom less sauna-like.The other night some insect or other decided to leave a few bites on my arms and hands. They look freaky. I'm trying to treat them with TCP and withhazel, but I think I may just give up and either try to make a feature of them (perhaps cover them in glitter make-up) or turn them into beauty spots like an 18th Century trollop with the pox. Or I just paint the bitten parts of me reddy-pink so they blend in. Might be worth a try... * Bingo wings is a lovely, evocative expression for such a mundane thing i.e. upper arm lardiness. Though it does suggest old lady angels sprouting wings and floating out off the windows of their local Mecca bingo hall...
1:05 p.m. - 2007-06-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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