It's like burning your bra, except it doesn't make sense.

You know when you're feeling a bit down and all you want to do is make a whiny bullshit post on your blog about how awful your life is? And then when you're 3/4 into it you go to google the right spelling of a word and Safari just decides to go apeshit and stay in rainbow-spinny-thing-of-hell mode for 20 minutes til you finally give up and close everything? Yeah.
So, I'm taking this as a message from the Universe and there shall be no depressed rants in this blog. Instead, I'm going to treat you to the story of how I burned my underwear today:

I've been bored all day and for no particular reason I decided I wanted to burn something. Looking around the room I realised the only things in it that belonged to me were my clothes, so it was only a matter of deciding which piece of clothing I didn't care enough about in order to satisfy my pyromaniac tendencies. The unlucky chosen one was the pair of brown and grey striped boxer briefs I was currently wearing.
After attempting (and failing) to take my underwear off without removing my pants, me, my flatmate and her boyfriend proceeded to the balcony, where the aforementioned underwear was soaked in a highly flammable cleaning product. I lit a cigarette, got a box of matches, and threw a lit one at the briefs. As I looked at the flames, and smelled the mixture of burning fabric and cigarette smoke I felt weirdly liberated. Actually thats bullshit. I didn't feel anything, but the fire was pretty cool.

And that, boys and girls, is how I spend my evenings.






And since this has become my favourite part of this blog, here are some unrelated news: I drank myself into oblivion last night and woke up with a huge bruise in my neck that I have no idea how I got! My mum brought two different kinds of cake for me today! I bought a sketch pad! The shitty pasta I made two days ago tastes much better re-heated! My eye is itchy!


Aaaaaand that's all.

"You bitches."

You guise, you should totally go check Elyse Sewell's blog (www.elysesewell.livejournal.com). She doesn't post anymore, but it's so so cool. Awesome tidbits of information on living in Asia and what being a model is really like (Turns out all those VH1 shows were lying. It's not glamorous, you just get a shitload of makeup thrown in your face, a shitload of hairspray throw in your hair and then you have to pose for 6 hours. I don't know what to believe anymore.)





In today's unrelated news: I had Korean food for dinner! Someone forgot a can of coke in the freezer and it exploded! I'm going for coffee with Amanda tomorrow! Talking about fashion with my mum is awesome! I learned how to wrap my scarf in a cool way!


That's all.




P.S.: Bonus points for whoever figures out the title reference.

I don't remember what breathing feels like.

So, I'm sick. Stupid winter came and brought along a nasty case of the coldz. Since I can't sleep for 5 minutes without waking up gasping for air, I haven't slept all night. It's 4:51AM, and I'm supposed to be at work at 11, ready to cough into as many Big Macs as I possibly can. (Yeah, I do that. I figure that there's no fun in being miserable and dying if everyone around me is cheery and healthy.)
Well, fuck work. I'll call in sick. It's 80 bucks I'm not making, but at least I get to stay at home, eat cookies and watch day-time tv.



In other news: I've moved out! Food is heinously expensive and I had never noticed! I have more than $1000 on my savings account for the first time in my life! I've been having sex dreams everyday for the past 2 weeks! The new issue of Vogue Australia is amazing!

That's all for today folks.