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deliquescent
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Name: kamelli
Birthday: 7/11/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: art, books, music, blue skies overhead, looking over the edge of the world, banana pancakes, sleepy mornings, and corner fish.
Expertise: mediocrity.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Member Since:
8/1/2003
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| Well, it's interesting living alone. Somewhat liberating...I can be as lazy as I please without anyone to say "tsk tsk" or "shame shame" etc. And I am certainly not feeling the lack of mannish presence, since according to my lovely co-worker, I am quite mannish all on my own. Fortunately my self-esteem is able to take such compliments with a grain of salt. We have a kind of kindergarten relationship. I.e. if I pull your hair, that means that I like you!
I am not really feeling the xmas spirit at this point. Cannot believe that it is already the 18th of December...I used to long and long for xmas when I was younger. Now I couldn't care a less. Although, it's nice to be able to have shortbread whenever I want.
My lovely secret santa got me a box of chocolate hedgehogs for xmas...so delicious, and only a measly 140 calories a piece! Hahaha...that's like half of breakfast. I think I'll go have another one.
And I have almost finished my xmas shopping (ish). At least I want to pretend to myself that I've almost finished!
I hate the mall. I really do.
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| Oh dear. I have rented a horrible pink box. With odd spots on the carpet and walls that need painting.
How horrid to see it in daylight with nothing in it at all.
My mother of course, will have a hey-day...she'll certainly comment on
it. Oh well. At least the bf is not here...I can hopefully make it look
semi-decent before he arrives. Oh god. Pink! It did NOT look pink when
I saw it...damned artificial lighting.
Only plus? Windows. 3 nice windows.
I feel depressed.
Now I really need an IKEA run...Kelly's rug here I come.
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In a half-hearted pursuit of life and a lover you fall on the green grass in 1984 so I can tell by the way you walk you want to be alone with him on the London Underground with desert roses and wheels within wheels belonging to a single man of large fortune and a room with a view covering me in Gable-esque kisses that are better than ice cream with the slope of my body falling back from the nape onto burnt carrot silk of stars in the sky.
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