DIARY; one

This is probably the most impersonal blog in all existence, so to rectify this I decided to add diary posts. These posts will consist of OOTD's (once I have the means to take the pictures for them) and just random yapping from moi.

I'm not certain what exactly I'm going to talk about... I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

*Clears throat*

One is meant to be attending salsa tonight but that may not occur due to how much of an ordeal getting dressed seems like right now. For the record; I'm not lazy, I'm just constantly exhausted for no logical reason. Actually, there is a logical reason that is probably anaemia, but my life-threatening phobia of needles means I haven't been tested for it.

Can you die of anaemia?

Anyway, this weekend I'm off to the other side of London to visit my dear Father. Since its eight thousand miles away, and my iPod earphones have broken, its likely I'll have lost my mind by the time me and my bright pink suitcase (which belongs to my Mother, I hate pink!) arrive in Purley. I'm not sure its wise to put my sanity under such strain...

Ta ta for now, I'm off to go and procrastinate about things I should be doing.

Ciao!

p.s Yesterday I left my house (for once) and I'm pretty sure people thought I was a witch... Because I looked like one. A lot.

p.p.s Office are selling Jeffrey Campbells.

p.p.p.s ...I can't remember what I was going to write.

p.p.p.p.s I remembered; I have a new header and its Alice Dellal. Do you like it? The last one of Natasha Poly was such bad quality that I felt like gouging my eyes out every time I saw it. Eugh. You poor things, you had to look at it every time you came on my blog. Did you cover it with one hand while quickly scrolling down with the other to save yourself from the excruciating pain? I bet you did. I would. I don't blame you.

I met Alice Dellal once; she was really nice and polite. Not very tall, though.

What does "p.s" actually mean?

I swear, I'm going now.

Procrastination, here I come!