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, November 13

I’m a very grateful person. It’s the small things that I appreciate most from people I know. I don’t expect grand gestures from these people to prove things between us are all good. I like a nice card, an unexpected text or a surprise call. I like genuine gestures that may seem trivial but to me they make everything good. I even appreciate every drunken conversation (that I remember) where a promise ‘to be friends always’ is made between 2 or more drunken souls. I just like to be reminded that the people I like are thinking about me as I think about them. Sometimes I’m surprised by those I know best and their seemingly uncaring attitudes, I’m not surprised by their everyday attitudes because this I’m used to but I’m surprised when I get an out of the ordinary text or a surprise gift that reminds me that despite outward appearances, they do care. I’m even more surprised by those I do not know so well but whose opinions and whose writings I read and value. I’m surprised when they leave me lovely comments and make me smile and wonder would they like me if they knew me in person. So, I was extra surprised yesterday, even though I was told to expect it, when Charmin, sent me something in the post that The Queen delights in but unfortunately these treats are unavailable over here. I thought this a remarkably kind gesture because despite knowing Charmin only from online, it’s the sort of gesture a friend would commit to. I know The Queen, who shows gratitude like she shows any emotion, is extremely grateful for this and while I meant to give her all of the packets… something happened last night between me and the m&ms and before I could say ‘fat turd’ half of one bag was already gone. Oh but they were so so good J So, thank you J I hope I can return the favour to you but really, sending haggis (Scotland’s national dish which is a mixture of sheep guts and floor sweepings) is not an option. Foot and mouth and general health and safety will not allow this. Oatcakes I can do.

While I’m on the subject of friends, J Bo wrote a lovely blog entry yesterday about our group of friends. She said she never thought she would find a friend who would judge her and here she was, lucky enough to find a whole gang of them. I couldn’t have put it better myself. That’s hardly surprising though. I’ve always had friends but usually only a couple at a time as people cannot handle The Fee and her weirdness so it’s quite amazing that I now have a whole group of close friends who are equally weird and make me feel all kinds of good, just knowing they are there. There’s always someone there for you, no matter what your problems may be. Be that a constipation problem, a lack of sex problem or even an over excessive muff puffing problem (will name no names…) and it’s so good when we can all get together and act as we always do when we are in our group: immature and loud and having more fun than you could imagine. It’s so hilarious when we hang out. There’s always far too much to laugh at and I’m constantly going home to patch up my split sides and wipe the saliva from my mouth which has over talked and over guffawed. And while the J Bo worries that next year, some of us will go our own ways and leave this place, I do not think that far ahead. I don’t want to and I do think that while friendships may not always be as close as they are, they will always be there and it isn’t the hardest thing in the world to stay in touch with people you like as much as I like my friends. Even if it’s a text or 2 a week just to know you are all thinking about each other. I hate how I have to grow up sometime and I hate change. I hate making new friends. There’s always room in our group for more, we are very accommodating but I don’t want to go and leave the best friends I have ever known. I know. I will set up home in a box in town and work my ass at the harbour so I never have to go. They wont take me alive you know. I only wish we could have all met somewhere else so we didn’t all want to go running faster than pre cum out of this shit hole. But like I say, I aint going anywhere, they’ll carry my remains around in a box long after I’m gone, they can’t get rid of me, I’m as stubborn as a skidmark so I can stop thinking about it for the moment. Let me instead think about the cranberry and brie sandwich I devoured yesterday in one bite. 31 grams of fat in one sandwich! My good lord! I deserve to be jumbo sized.

Listening to: Backstreet Boys greatest hits… it reminds me of the Halloween party… that’s my excuse anyway… that’s your fault BO.