Diary of a Glitter Splashed Britney Lovin' Lesbo

I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else

Name:Miss Fee


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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Wednesday, May 1

Tomorrow I have an exam. My first and final exam of semester 2 which will draw my 3rd year to a close. I calculated my total studying time yesterday. Being generous to myself it would appear as though I’ve managed 55 minutes. Not bad considering the amount of tea and chocolate rice cakes breaks I have taken. It just seems like I have too much other stuff on my mind at the moment such as weblogs, after exam parties and flashdance. The latter being the most important. Every time I crack open the books and am faced with pages of words about educational publishing I just feel the need to get off my chair, go eat sultanas, try on 40 pairs of jeans (my own and my mother’s) and get down and boogey to ‘I should be so lucky’. Really, for one goddamn exam I should forget about the mental boredom and mind torture I have to go through in order to pass it and just sit on my ass for longer than 7 minutes at a time and learn and not load up the Internet every 4 minutes to see that no one has emailed me. It’s sad, it’s sadder than sad but so is studying a subject that bears no reflection on what I want to do. I see my chances of making it to fourth year getting further out of reach with every chorus of flashdance. And if I thought I had the reward of looking forward to an after exam party then it appears as though I’m very much mistaken. I thought people would be so relieved that they’d head to the union for Hooch by the pint but I think I’ll be playing pool alone. Not that I play pool of course, that’d make me a real life butch. I even managed to cajole Queen of Fun into coming out. Maybe I falsely led her to believe that there were going to be other people in attendance so I know now she will choose sitting watching Bad Girls as opposed to hanging out with loner Fee as she drinks herself into oblivion. Gutted, again.

There was a ‘shim’ in my work yesterday. For anyone not familiar with the Queen of Fun’s favoured term, a ‘shim’ is a she/him. Is it a she? Or is it a him? So I’m serving this shim and it’s buying some random stationary items and it’s got a Victoria wood style bowl cut with the piggiest eyes you ever did see and just as I’m away to say ‘thank you, sir’, the shim pipes up in high pitched voice with a remark about the weather. No, she was under the age of 67, really she was. I’m kinda flabbergasted enough to continue the conversation with mrs shim and she’s chatting away like she’s my best bud and she mentions she likes rugby. Conversation at my end is running thin so I decide to tell her that I play rugby. I figure you can tell ‘stories’ to people you don’t know and hopefully will never see again. It didn’t really seem like lying. So, I’m banging on telling her about my non existant rugby days and she asks if I play for RGU so I’m like “yeah, totally” so she’s like, “hmmm, that’s odd cos they don’t have a team”. Busted. So I try to dig myself out of my massive hole of embarrassment with mrs shim bombarding me with questions about rugby (how many people in a team? What position do u play?) and I keep just getting my size 13s further and further in and she fully knows it but keeps going on and on, a bit like me trying to tell a story really. And then finally, mid conversation, mrs shim is like, “I’ve got things to do” and leaves the shop. How rude?! She should have been bloody priviledged that I, The Fee, was even talking to her. Forget the fact that she caught me being a ‘compulsive’ (a typical gay trait by the way, 1 in 3 gay people are compulsive liars), she still had the pleasure of my hot company for a good 10 minutes and she walks out like she’s queen/king. She’ll be back I tell you. Damn me and my ‘stories’.

Today’s Likes

Blue sky
Excess bracelets/shag bands
Motivation, want some
Having people look at my site
Good dreams well remembered

Today’s Dislikes

Inside out pants
Forgetting dreams
Feet (not mine) that smell of metallic turds
Doing nice things for people that go unappreciated
Attention seekers
That stupid Kate Winslet song