I had a VERY interesting weekend!

I wish I had some interesting news to scintillate you all with. Or at the very least had the energy to make up something fabulous.

But I don't.

So all you get, until my shell shocked little body gets used to its new yuppie lifestyle, is my assurance that I am still alive and an earnest promise to come back and play nice with you all sometime soon. Please don't de-friend me due to my inutterable tardiness in the meantime.

X

Ok sorry for the protracted absence but I have been BUSY! The new job is pretty full on, the stress of which has only been exacerbated by the trouble over the past few weeks in Timor-Leste...

Anyway, other than work, scrabbling around for food and falling into bed exhasted I have done little of any interest since the Ball.

No action with Canberra boy. Which I'm so pissed about I will even insert an unhappy face emoticon !

We spent yet another pleasant, polite and platonic day together. No boy is that shy are they? I have concluded that he is just not interested. The reasons for which are either A. I am hideously repellant. B. He is gay. C. He really is far more nerdy than anyone ever imagined to be possible. As usual I'm inclined to favour option A. Bugger it.

Frantically busy.
Desperately tired.
Terribly anxious.

So just talk among yourselves for a little while.

(P.S. Due to the above mentioned I will not have time to finish enormously complicated gown for ball. Will be coming in old, but still mildly fancy, togs instead. Mention dress situation to me on the night and you might be lucky if I simply bite your head off and put us both out of misery. Just giving you fair warning.)

I haven't slept naked since I left him.

Tonight, in bed alone,
feels like the icy skin of loneliness.

With blue sheets skating across tiny hairs,
bristling and erect in the cold.

Home

Tired

Fed up

Grubby

Cranky

Crotchety

And I didn't get any Easter eggs either.

Oh dear. I think I am quickly becoming besotted with the very idea of Canberra boy.

I feel like a teenager.

All stupid and excited and worried and gangly and fumbly and lust ridden.

Feeling a little bit bland about the SG show. (Go on zot me see if I care)

Left feeling like a very bad feminist and am pondering my own complicitness in the whole conundrum.

I have just returned from a weekend in Canberra, ostensibly intended as a reconnaissance mission to check the well being of my younger brother who has just moved there.

On Saturday we had coffee with Steven (I had to explain how we knew each other to my brother afterwards which was pretty funny, well at least he thought it was pretty funny). As I expected my brother and Steven are into similar music and they happily talked music while I used the time to do what I do best, which is think about shoes.

I then went to the art gallery to meet up with a boy I know. We spent a nice afternoon at the gallery, had coffee, he showed me around Canberra and we went to dinner at an Italian restaurant together. The night ended with us both perched politely at either end of his couch discussing everything from econometrics and literature to soccer until one in the morning.

Since I have found myself perched politely at the opposite end of a couch having long fascinating conversations with a couple of boys recently I am left wondering what the fuck it is that is wrong with me.

Do I wear an enormous Miss Marple suit visible only to straight men?

Do I give off some sort of spinster aroma?

Would I have more chance of some nice boy making a move on me if I dyed my hair red?

Malingering in my favorite book store today I discovered a teen fiction series called "Blonde, Jane Blonde: International Spy-let".

I'm not sure how I feel about having a hot pink, post DIY feminist, girl power, tweenie heroine as my fictional doppelganger!

Definitely bemused.