pretty pants.

Jervis Bay, stolen from kerry

My skin has turned from a shade of pale latte to a slightly darker shade of cappuccino. My forehead isn’t screwed up in a tight mass of folded skin. I’m still perpetually hoping to get a little shut-eye though.

It was nice to get away, even if it was just for 2 days. It was brilliant stuffing my face with MAMEE, chips, fizzy drinks and kebabs and pancakes peppered with carcinogens. Gilly had her share of unhealthy food for the year. Thank you very much.

But what goes up must come down. I shall now settle down, eat some healthy food and read Hollis v Vabu.

bin cricket.

our clothes’ line

One way to move forward is to keep your eyes to the front. I tend to always walk with my head turned back. Its hard to advance like that because I can’t see where I’m going. I think though some things did not turn out quite so much as I planned it would, the trick is to look forward. I should stop dwelling on whats at the back of me, its gone and I doubt it’ll ever return.

I don’t know why I like to cling on to things. I refuse to throw them away, ergo being left with a huge heap of rubbish to lug around. I’m wonderful at throwing giving away clothes, shoes, socks… oddly enough I’m wretched at letting go of the more intangible things like petty arguments, embarrassing moments and the what-could-have-been.

I should learn from the my mistakes, then bin them and keep my eyes straight.