2019 is fast coming to an end. This year has honestly been one of the best I’ve had in a long time, and I can sum up my feelings for it in two words: Busy and Proud.
Good news everyone- yer gurl is getting feelings again. I am no longer an emotionless robot. It is terrifying.
Today is a sad day. A day of distraught. Of tears. Of loss. A day filled with misery, ending with crippling loneliness and despair. For today is the day that I am not allowed to watch EastEnders. And I am heartbroken.
Two days ago, I turned 31. But don’t worry, I’m still ridiculously attractive.
Honestly, what a babe.
No, I’m not Josh Hartnett. I’m much sexier. However, I did also have an agonising experience that lasted 40 days and 40 nights, and it did also involve vaginas. Maybe I am him. I call this story: The Tale of the Late Period.
Last year, I spent a lot of time receiving mixed signals from men I was interested in. They were hot, they were cold, they were yes, they were no, they were Katy Perry, they weren’t Katy Perry. It was all a tad confusing. However, maybe it wasn’t all their fault.
So I’m in Los Angeles for the week visiting my pal and seeing the sights and shit. It’s hella good. Do you know what’s not good?! LIES. Let me tell you a wee story.