I have that peculiarly spring-y feeling (plz to tell if you suffer from this as well) where I want to go out and purchase all manner of sandals and floral dresses. This is a particularly dumb idea in circumstances where:
- Said dresses and sandals cost money, which I have basically been flushing down the toilet recently;
- My legs bear a close resemblance to neon glow sticks except hairier and fatter;
- All the shops appear to be stocking just now are crop fucking tops and dresses that will barely cover my crotch LET ALONE my granny sized underwear.
Moving on: culture. I has none. I wasted a bday Whitcoulls voucher on Mortal Instruments: City of Bones I don't know why because it transpires that it is terrible, terrible teenage fantasy-style fiction which features:
- the supernatural
- a love triangle
- a heroine who doesn't know her own talents
Digression: you know how in rhythmic gymnastics and synchronised swimming they do team items coordinated to music? Well, there is a similar sort of thing in dressage (horses for courses) and at the ages of 12 and 13 respectively, my sister and I choreographed a routine to "Another Day in Paradise" for four of us and our ponies. I can't remember whether we won the competition but I can tell you Phil Collins writes excellent beats for an extended trot. F me, I can't believe I just told you that.
I have a nasty feeling I'm on a kind of roll spilling all my teenage shames here so I better put an end to this post, pronto. Have a lovely weekend, all.