I’ve been in Adelaide for ten days now, say what?!
Lowest points so far: realising I watched a comedy gig with my boobs showing by accident, choking on a nectarine, seeing three possums having a threesome and acknowledging that possums are getting more action than me (long distance high-5), and being royally fucked over trying to buy tickets to a naked circus (yeah and what?) so much so I believe I lost my entire faith in the human race, until I bought cookies and ate them and remembered I still have faith in bakers. #perspective
Highest points so far: Tamar and the show getting brilliant reviews in Adelaide, our blissful summer walk into town through the Botanic Gardens, our daily barbecues, brag brag brag, also observing said possums and their sexual politics – FYI if you want to join in, bite the other possum’s face. Oh, and surviving the other nectarines. Victory.
I cannot believe how fast this trip is going. It’s beginning to concern me because I genuinely have no idea what I’m doing with my life when I get home. I keep giving myself a lot of grief about how I’m a total idiot/ what was I thinking going into the penniless arts world, being 24 and still bringing two home-packed meals to work each day because Pret = bankruptcy, when I could have done something respectable and reliable like medicine or making houmous for a living.
Actually I take back the thing about packed lunches. They absolutely rock my world and there is no shame in relishing a Frube outside a Rolls Royce showroom. It’s called living life on the edge. Try it guys.
In other news, I’m having real trouble with underwear this week. Within five minutes of leaving the house I get at least three wedgies and I’ve worn my pants inside out twice by accident. Not to mention the boobs saga. All my other friends are buying houses, getting married, doing really well at life, and I genuinely can’t seem to dress myself or buy clothes that fit. It’s not something I’m going to dwell on. But if you managed to get through your day without readjusting you’re one step ahead of me so you should feel good about yourself.
One thing I HAVE realised on this trip is that Mcbusted and One Direction are following me. Literally trailing my every move. As soon as I leave the UK they come to Melbourne. As soon as I hit Adelaide they arrive two days later. I feel bad for them though guys. They’ve probably found out by now about the ancient shopkeeper who chatted me up (“Are you foreign? Because you look out of this world.” “No, I’m just really sweaty.”) and know it’s too late. It is, however, making me monitor slightly more closely just how frequently I sort the wedgie situation out in public. Got to leave something for their imagination.
That’s it for today folks! Keeping it nice and short so my blog doesn’t become as boring as photographs of roast dinners on Facebook. STOP IT. They all look the same. We’ve all seen them before. And gravy might taste good but it looks absolutely disgusting in a photograph so just STOP.
Wow. Sorry. Emosh. Guess I must still be upset about the circus. Need more cookies.
Bye hotties!! xx