- mum tried to make me try on a coat in a size bigger than my 'big' size because of my fucking tits. I point blankly refused, and, in my hormonally stroppy period state, came very close to crying in H&M. However, most of what I bought was size 8 dresses, so good times-ish.
- my food intake consisted of
- bowl of cornflakes plus raisins x2
- scone x2
- pizza x2
- garlic bread that looked like a pizza x1
- Starbucks chocolate chip muffin x1
Eugh. Although I like to think the amount of walking during shopping I did, combined with the amount of calf toning I did standing on my tiptoes to see over people at the gig may have burned off a little of it.
- I solemnly swear to never, ever let anyone make me stand that far back at a concert ever again. I'm a beer, sweat and shove kind of gigger. No more of this being calm at the mid-to-back.
- I'm asking Work I Really Enjoy if I can get a placement for 6-9 months and thus maybe, maybe, hopefully leave school. YES BABY.
I'm on a permanent boycott of Miss Selfridge because if you're above a UK 6, they just can't be fucked with you. It's also made for short people. Shorter than me, even! It's an advert for depression if ever I saw one.
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