I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else
Mr Trashwhore who, despite languishing in a prison cell, still managed to blog and still managed to get in the press for his efforts) but I barely remember anything I was allegedly taught (brain fried by alcohol is my excuse). The thought of actually getting a job that related to this degree seemed to diminish every day that I didn’t hate the admin job I was doing. Ok I was a glorified word processor with a bit of free reign but I had a fantastic time working there. I met some amazing people who have graduated from work colleagues to friends and of course I met The Oldest Lesbo I Know who graduated from work colleague to friend to special friend :-) So, while it was very difficult to leave, when my new job arose I had to go for it, not thinking of course that I’d get it considering my degree is more than a little out of date. Nevertheless, I did get it and it was one of a few good things that occurred in a pretty crappy year and am now an Editorial Assistant; rolls off the old tongue pretty well.
I was asked, when interviewed, if I’d mind doing my training in Milan. Hmmm, I slipped into a day dream/coma of pizza and cheese and ice cream and thought, yeah, I can do Milan. And so my first week in the job was in Milan. I couldn’t wait to tell my work colleagues who of course already thought I was something of a compulsive liar due to the fact that I had banged on about my trip to Australia for most of the year which suddenly didn’t come off and then there was the ‘my brother is in South Africa working in a monkey sanctuary’ story so it didn’t look too good for my case when I couldn’t tell anyone what the job was, only that I was going to Milan. But I really was supposed to go to Australia, and my brother did work in a monkey sanctuary and Milan actually was compulsory!
And so I did Milan; I could have been in Dundee for all I saw of it however but I did come back home, as I suspected I might, you know with my lack of self control and all, 10 tonnes heavier. I was so considerably laden down with wheat and cheese and coffee that I was required to book 2 seats for the return journey. Am still trying to shake off the excess weight but the belly is a stubborn thing, it likes its new larger form and is clinging on for dear life. But anyway, it’s all been in vain as I return to the city of dough next week so if you look aloft and see a heavily lopsided plane heading toward Aberdeen, you’ll know that I am on my way home. Ah, life is sweet.
And so I go exercise my vocal cords because the only person I have spoken to today is my dad, 4 hours ago. Never thought that I, the anti-social, would miss working in a public office.
Unpacking all my crap, so much more fun than the despresso packing part
Being back blogging, three posts in five days, yay
How loyal fellow bloggers are
BEBO…! Anyone else on???
My perpetual throat clearing, brand new and very annoying
Being a skinto
My smashed Britney picture, oh well, new flat new Britney
That I will have to do my own washing from now on, hmpf
My skinners, sure they were flared not straight legged when I bought them...
Listening to: Sharam’s ‘Party all night long’ cos I really want to…
1/10/2007 01:06:00 PM
Adventures of Charmin
Ariel Pay it Forward
Come to the Dark Side...
Dirty Little Homos
Fash Mag Slag
Het (aka Quickfit)
Hit the Jag Spot...
Knee Deep In It...
Life and Times of a Desperado
On Top of the World>