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I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
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My weekend in Geneva sucked ass. I was required to go for work, to a Congress. I’ve been on more flights in the past 6 months than I have in my life. Generally I enjoy the travelling but I dreaded this trip more than I dread a life without cheese. I was exceedingly stressed about what I should wear. I mean, the converses and low slung jeans just wouldn’t cut it. I searched all over town for vaguely smart clothes in which I would feel vaguely comfortable. I packed my case with the care I would deliver to a penis (none at all) and I set off on my travels. I arrived in Geneva, knackered and travel-dirty but alas, to my horror my beloved suitcase was nowhere in sight. I was given an emergency overnight bag which contained a spitting of toothpaste and an enormous white Tshirt through which you could see my discs because it was that transparent. I washed my only clothes (the ones I had been languising in all day) in the sink of my 4 star hotel which I appreciated as much as I appreciate polyester work wear. I couldn’t sleep; my ear plugs were in the case and work begun at 7am. It was not looking good. Nor was my hair. I had sweated it curly and of course, the straightners were safely packed in my luggage which was god knows where in the world. And so I presented myself at the Congress in my sink washed travelling clothes complete with pink trainers, arse revealing jeans and baggy eyes. It was hideous. I was hideous. And my case never did arrive in Geneva. We were finally reunited on Saturday, ten days after it left me to have a better time some place else. So to summarise: I had no luggage, I had no money to buy anything more than ugly pants and plain Tshirts, I had the world’s biggest hair, I was too bloody tired to even see the sights, I was completely uncomfortable in any situation that actually involved people and I couldn’t wait to be home back but unfortunately counting the seconds did not hurry the process along. The trip home didn’t go according to plan either with the 4 hour flight delay which was as enjoyable as a wet fart. I mean, could anything else possibly have made the weekend even more ghastly than it was? Oh yes. I came home to a £300 phone bill which leaves me approximately £50 to live on for 4 weeks. Bring on the toast sans anything! And so I go contemplate eating my body weight in cheese, again. Embrace the chubs. Today's Likes Mexican chilli crisps Mid week podium dancing The upcoming vinyl party Spending time with Golden Boy Today's Dislikes My breath after mexican chilli crisps Looking like a hungover breed Crumby fingers Missing out! That our living room smells of cheese Britney Wannabe 
7/19/2007 02:36:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
