The mad, the bad, the ugly.

Gimme gimme gimme.




The motorbike, obviously, not the attention seeking model draped across it.

On a more realistic note, how adorable is this? And only £28 from asos.com.



Anyone wishing to splash some cash on me...hintedly-smack-in-the-face-hint.

Speaking of cash, horrible prom-dress-selling-banshee has been entirely unco-operative and so ebay refunded me the money themselves. I've also sold about £150 worth of clothes in three days just by clearing out my wardrobe and half heartedly selling them, in fact I haven't even begun listing any stock yet.

Turned down both job offers after a mammoth scene with my dad (one of those horrible ones that take place in cars) I love my dad to pieces but he does have a habit of being entirely supportive about things and the changing his tune at the last minute and making me out to be impulsive and unfocused (possibly true but I'm perfectly happy bumbling along how I am). Anyway he came home and we made up, then I applied for lots of lovely legal jobs in the city. Big lights bright city.

Tatler had an interesting article today about the re-emergance of the "priviligenstia", read it if you get the chance it's quite amusing.

Lacroix has apparently had some encouraging bids and on a very random note, I know I have a few friends in IT/graphics/photography - net-a-porter.com are looking for a junior retoucher, could be a good opportunity if luxury fashion is yo cup of tea.

On a less encouraging note - Peaches Geldof has been cited as Biba's new muse. Now this girl inspires many feelings within me, creativity and eccentricity not being among them. Take your irritating little face out of the public eye please girlie, having ridden your 15 minutes of fame to exhaustion don't make the mistake of reversing over them too.

Isabel Lucas (model, actress and animal right's activist) might just be my new favourite person.



Driving lesson tomorrow then off to Kim's for a bit and a family do in the evening.

Considering

Considering deleting everything. Facebook, blog, phonebook, emails.

Considering not being so accomodating.

Considering being reckless and suffering the consequences.

If we did half the things we instinctively want to, the world would be a much more passionate place. Isn't it time for a dramatic gesture?

Fools rush in

Fool.

I think my dog, Crab, be the SOUREST NATURED DOG THAT EVER LIVED.

Urgh. That bloody woman won't give me my money back for my graduation dress. I'll show her who's not afraid to go crying to the ebay dispute resolution centre...

Interview went really well this morning, particularly at the point where, whilst describing my duties, she pipes up with "of course sometimes people won't want to give you information, which is when we employ certain tactics. Now, I don't want to use the word "illegal", but..." Essentially, I'd be paid £12 per hour to be sneaky and I've always wanted to whisper onimously down the phone "you'll never know...."

FINALLY getting my mop chopped next Tuesday, and will probably strip the colour out again because I'm royally fed up with being a bottle brunette. I'll probably strip it and then put a light brown in over the blonde. I'm sure you're all enthralled by this...

Quite looking forward to Exeter, although there are a certain couple of people I'd like to see and it doesn't really seem to be happening...am contemplating being more forceful but seeing as I rarely ever have to pursue anything I'm not sure what to do short of posting it on a blimp over Princesshay.

Am out tomorrow and the rest of the week but absolutely can't wait to watch my Versailles programme on tv tonight and get my arts and crafts on again. Probabaly going to book tickets to the proms tonight too, so along with Field Day, Ronnie Scotts, Whirly Gig and Hot Damn I am going to be an utter pauper next month. Might go sell some talcum powder on the mean streets of Lightwater.

Unedited shenanigans from Saturday -


Look at that big, sexy brain. Ha.

Quite seriously all the pavalova about what to wear friday is driving me insane. May go in jeans and a Garfield jumper. No joke.

Never bolt your door with a boiled carrot

Just spent the past two hours customising a sequinned waistcoat - I am literally COVERED in fabric glue and after painstakingly attaching every single bloody sequin I think I've lost the will to live. Anyway Emma and I decided to take a raincheck on tonight's party and I'll need my beauty sleep for tomorrow anyway, so I'm going to snuggle up in bed whilst it rains outside and watch Atonement.

Oh also today I found the most amazingly kitsch tankard/mug - it's designed to look like a tree trunk. I'm going to fit right in at Field Day what with the crockery smashing competitions and young offender's ping pong. Winner.

Angsty pants

Why is it we always want to rant and ramble late at night? I wonder what the first ever deep and meaningful was like. And why do we do it anyway? Why do humans keep diaries and journals and blogs and feel the need to tell other people what they're thinking? I suppose not everyone does, I never used to tell people anything private unless I had to but these days I have absolutely no shame whatsoever and I think most of my friends know more about whats going on with me than I do sometimes. I'm not sure why that's a negative thing, but it feels like it.

I hate that half of me is still back in Exeter. I know there are a certain few people I'll still visit, but other than that how are you supposed to cut all ties with a place where you've had so many experiences over the past few years? Just because someone isn't a close friend or an old boyfriend why should that make it any less important to keep in contact...but then why keep in contact with someone when, from a completely impartial point of view, they probably won't ever have any significant impact on your life again? I don't want to keep marking off weekends in my diary so I can jump back on a train to Exeter, especially when I've realised how many incredible friendships I have at home and how easy it is to pick up where you left off three years ago.

I had a little panic earlier. The next year of my life is going to spent trying to remember to send "pre-midnight" texts to my parents if I decide to stay out and making up excuses about where I am and who I'm with...no more crashing in at 5am and drinking in tea in the kitchen and leaving a trail of belongings up the stairs. I might get another tattoo. I'm not sure why, I got over my tattoo phase years ago. I really wanted to paint something earlier but I have no idea what...I used to have so much patience for things like that, I'd spend days over a painting and now I can't even be bothered to doodle. I don't know why I'm talking about doodling. I get really frustrated with myself these days, I keep thinking horrible things (also, I've had this thing recently where something terrible will cross my mind and I'll think "god, can you imagine..." literally always those exact same words and now I think I've jinxed myself and one day one of these horrible things will happen and it will all be because I kept saying "god, can you imagine" like I was asking for it or something) and I keep completely fucking myself over too, entirely in self-sabotage mode, and where as whenever anything used to go wrong I'd write really long lists of the things I needed to do to make everything ok again and turn things around now I've completely screwed everything up so many times I know my lists are useless and so I have nothing to do, no motions to go through, to even TRY and make myself feel better. And what is a Luckey Oakfield girl without her lists????

This time last year I was in a serious relationship, completely and utterly in love and applying for training contracts with top Law firms. What's scary is that I was so blissfully happy, and I can remember what it felt like, but I can't seem to imagine myself like that again. I know it's a massive assertion to make but I quite seriously can't imagine myself ever feeling that attached to someone again. And part of me really wants to but whenever I get anywhere close I get this horrible uncomfortable feeling like things are expected of me and the same seems to be happening with careers; the thought of being stuck in some 3 year graduate programme absolutely terrifies me. When did I become such a commitment-phobic cliche?

I was really hoping writing all this down would get it off my chest and help me get to sleep but I'm wide awake. Quite seriously I have no idea what to tell myself or how to remind myself to stop fucking up at the moment. How can you be so in control one minute and so...the next. And I know it probably did happen around the time we broke up, so was I a perfectionist for me or for someone else? Everyone claims you go away to uni to find yourself but quite honestly I had a much better idea of what I wanted from life before I left.

Where have you Balmain all my life??