2003-10-03

My little sister turned 21 yesterday and I feel ancient...

It didnt matter so much when she was 1 and I was 10 'cause I could feel all superior and grown up. Same again when she was 11 and I was 20 - a kind of motherly affection crept in through the university induced drug-and-sex haze. But now I feel v Bridget Jones and kind of outmoded, despite the fact that I wouldn't go back to beng 21 if you paid me (horrible! horrible year!) and I actually quite respect the amount of stuff I have gone through to get where I am today. In the immortal words of Regurgitator - I've sucked a lot of cock to get where I am.

So really it turns out I am not that depressed by the whole thing...

Bugger, and I was trying so hard to have something to whinge about. fact is that I am having a pretty ok week, and lots of fun running around with Fringe festival stuff on, and money finally coming in from my handbag biz and - well, no sex, but you can't have your beefcake and eat it too I suppose.

Oh, and the wax job. I think I have done something terribly wrong (or rather my beautician has) because my armpit has swolled up to unnatural proportions after my bi-monthly waxing session yesterday. I know we have to suffer for our art, but this is slightly ridiculous... its like I'm holding a football under my arm, and its hot and sticky. Being an advocate of choice when it comes to hair or no hair, I choose no hair mainly because the smooth thing turns me on (explaining my preference for short balding men - I can look down on their smooth shiny pate all day!). But the continuing trauma in my pit from yesterday is making me think that perhaps its time to go French and grow a 'fro under each arm and one in my crotch, not to mention the furry forest that would be my legs. yep, I can see it now - "roll up, roll up and see the human hairball, every inch covered in fur following a traumatic waxing incident! Women of the western world quake in fear!"

Or maybe I'll just shave...

bitch - moan