My camera has broken and is in a permanent �battery exhausted� funk. I borrowed just about the oldest digital camera possibly in existence. It felt like I was carrying around a beehive for the evening. This is a photo of a beam of light being projected on to the stage.
It�s my birthday. I�m 23 right now, for an hour and a bit so far. I don�t really know what to say about it. I tried to think earlier about what I have learnt this year about myself and I came up with this:
* I am not a volunteer.
* I like that fucking Nelly Furtado �Maneater� song (BUM! I hate her! But. It�s. So. Catchy!)
* I always really wanted to be the kind of female that when going out for the night can keep their shoes on, keep clothes on, keep lipstick on, have hair that looks sleek and brushed and generally be a tiny bit sophisticated. A few weeks ago after a night of doing filthy dancing to some of the worst and most hideous music ever I thought fuck it; it�s OK to be like this too.
* I am seemingly the only person to fill up the teabag pot.
* I am seemingly the only person to change a toilet roll.
* I am seemingly the only person to wash the shower curtain.
* Given the choice I prefer to stay awake all night and �waste� entire chunks of weekend time reading and lying about when I �should be doing something�. People that try and belittle people that count this activity as perfectly sensible and a fine and enjoyable way to spend time can fuck off. I realised this year I�m proud that�s how I want to spend my time off. Get up at 7 and go to the gym and then boast about it but I�m not impressed with your day seizing, it sounds hideous. In fact, I�m a bit put out that I have to get up earlyish on my birthday to partake in festivity.
I�m sure there were some other bits but I�m tired and I�ve forgotten.
Soso