back up blog

I haven't been sleeping well of late. I'm not sure if that is because of my increasingly frequent bad dreams or because I've been sharing my tiny single bed with another person three nights a week (JUST KIDDING MAMA. Probably.) but damn, I look in the mirror at my sallow skin and bagged eyes and often consider not leaving the house in case I scare small children and animals and possibly the muscled, six-foot-six black man that serves me my coffee every morning. Hi, Re'Shawn! And because I am not sleeping well, I have been taking a lot of disco-naps. But these are generally unrewarding because I dream crazy things and so I wake up more tired than I went to sleep and with an inexplicable fear of marshmallows. I'm currently in rehearsal for a production of the Greek tragedy Antigone as the lead's sister Ismene. (Sidenote: I think it is my destiny in life to forever be the lead's sister. I feel like Kate Winslet in that film where she screams YOU SHOULD BE ABLE

My friend with the new boyfriend, on periods: "They are like a little gift from heaven every sexually active month." True dat.

"Dude, I love what you're doing with your hair today!" I said as I entered the rehearsal room. "It's different every time I see you," I added. "Yeah, I'm working with a few different products right now, you know? The L'Oreal is working out great for me and-" "I'm sorry," I interrupted. "Could you start my day a little more gay for me? Thanks." Damned drama students. Pansies, the lot of them.

America, when you are amused by something, why do you stare me in the eye with the most pan-faced expression known to man and say emotionlessly, "Ohmygod. That is so funny,"? Try just laughing next time. It's like talking to a botoxed frog.

"Can you tell me where the library is?" a woman with a funny accent yelled to me as I left my apartment building. "I'm lost." I walked down the path to her. "Urm, sure. But it is sort of complicated so why don't you I show you? I'm going that way anyway," I told her. (Sidenote: when I text Mama this story she replied with, HAVEN'T I TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING?! DON'T GO OFF WITH STRANGERS!) (She presumes the worst in me because when I was eighteen and went to Sri Lanka by myself to work in an orphanage I left my rucksack with a man who seemed very friendly when I went off to the loo, and when I got back he had gone. My dad's camera, three hundred dollars and my dignity were in that bag. In that same trip, the amma of the orphanage asked me to bring home a package that a previous volunteer had been sent but missed, so I did. When mum found out she freaked BECAUSE IT COULD HAVE BEEN DRUGS AND I COULD HAVE COME OF AGE IN A SRI LANKAN PRISON

So my best friend is getting married, which aside from plunging me into an existential crisis whereby I was pulling a beer out of the fridge at 3.30 in the afternoon and wondering aloud over a family-sized bag of Doritos exactly what it is I am doing with my life besides frequently making a tit of myself and then writing about it on the internet, is- of course- fantastic. "Really? You're getting married?!" I squealed down the phone. "THIS IS SO AMAZING!" My friend made the appropriate noises of excitement as she demanded I be in the country for the nuptials. "Of course I'll be in the country!" I told her. "I SO HAVE TO BE AROUND TO GET YOU A BIG-SCHLONGED STRIPPER AT THE HEN PARTY! This is great!" I exclaimed. I made a mental note to ask about the ring and the proposal next. Priorities and all. I was met with a stoney, unimpressed silence. My friend said nothing. I sighed. "We're just doing a spa weekend aren't we?" I sa

I'm not really a fan of Valentine's Day. I'm not sure if I have mentioned how forced, sentimental emotion wrapped in cheap heart-speckled cellophane kind of makes me want to overdose on adult Calpol and have my stomach pumped by an overweight German woman with halitosis and unshaven armpits, who keeps me from slipping into death's hold by whispering odored sweet nothings into my ears and licking my face with the tip of her disgusting tongue. Oh, I have? I'm sorry. I don't mean to repeat myself. I was temporarily dumbed down by the flashes and pink and red and cerise and shiny tin-foil covered, overpriced, chocolates. And by the thought of Frau Fleisher .  EXCUSE ME.  My friends are aware that the 14th of February isn't my favourite day either. I woke up to a plethora of messages and emails from friends wishing me a wonderful day. As you are probably aware it is your least favourite day of the year today, so I thought I would send you some holiday cheer to h

Yes, I've been a very naughty blogger of late. I've been pretty naughty about a lot of things, truth be known, even in keeping in contact with mama. I finally spoke to her today and the first words she said over the webcam were, AND WHO HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?! which I think is her way of inferring that only a male of species would keep me away from her for so long. Like a girl can't just be busy . "I know there's a boy," she told me, "Look at the back of your head. You've got bedhead!" I told her I didn't know what she was talking about and that I couldn't talk long because I had a blog post to write about how much therapy I'm going to need because she once called Ricky Martin well fit and now she was telling to just be safe . Two hours later I had a message on my Facebook wall. "I still want to know who the boy is," she said, and I deleted the post and sent her an email bollocking her for insinuating there was a boy for her

Ladies and Gentlemen: introducing the concept of FRENENMIES. Also known as, who needs enemies when you have friends like these to remind you of every drunken, slightly-out-of-character (FINE. Slightly-in-character...) incident that YOU'D REALLY RATHER FORGET. Frenemies are there, ready and waiting, to bring all of this up. Even over email. Me : I think you need a WWLD braclet to help successfully conduct your life without me. Frenemy : I have no idea what that means. And if you are trying to spell BRACELET then I am so disappointed in you. Me : WHAT WOULD LAURA DO? Like the What Would Jesus Do bracelets Christians have to get them through their days. Frenemy : Oh! Okay then. I would wear it with pride. (Everytime I see a hot man... *has sex with them on a park bench*). Maybe the whole bracelet thing isn't such a good idea after all. Me : I CAN'T BELIVE YOU JUST BROUGHT THAT UP. Frenemy : I will continue to bring it up at any oppurtunity. Me : It's spelt oppOrtunity. And