Oh my...you know it was a good Friday when you're still feeling it on Monday.
I haven't gone out in such an extreme manner for a very very long time.
My oh my. Oh my.
I remember (in no particular order): wearing a completely unknown woman's clothes, flashing my chest at my bf's mates, throwing up, being a hussy on the dance floor, being rude to bouncers, snogging strange women, doing the "you're boootiful" "no, YOU'RRRE bootifullll" thing with more strange women in the bathrooms, grabbing men, grabbing more women, and ringing friends at ungodly hours to tell them that THEY are 'bootifullll' too.
It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, the air is crisp, and I watched a beautiful young mother cry as she talked about the death of her beloved child, that had grown inside her, and shared her soul.
I didn't want to notice the weather. It felt so inappropriate. Afterwards, everyone kept saying "well at least it's a lovely day"....but it shouldn't have been. It should, but it shouldn't. I'm rambling.
They were so brave. I don't think I could have done what they did. I would have choked every time that I opened my mouth, and the incredible words that I heard today would have never been heard from me.
I feel guilty, and I've done nothing wrong.
I feel guilty for taking things for granted.
I feel guilty for thinking that my life is hard at times.
It doesn't even compare.
This beautiful little boy fought against the odds for 26 weeks, and breathed air for 19 hours.
They have a mould of his fingerprints.
And I whinge about my hair having split ends.
People always say that funerals should be a celebration of life, not of death, but today was the first one that I'd ever attended that achieved that. The Salvation Army ran it, and it was done with compassion, beauty and love. But oh god...it was so sad.
Perspective really backhands you in the mouth sometimes. My lips are still aching.
I know you don't know these people, and you might not be religious...but please, spare them a thought and a prayer.
I know I'm going to be thinking about it for a long time to come.
Sing with the angels, baby Scott. I never knew you, but you were a beautiful little Ladybug miracle.
I'm going into REAL ESTATE!!! Aaaaagh! Run away screaming! Squeal, squeal like a piggy!
Yuppie boutique agency, crap pay to start. So be it. I couldn't care less, for one reason...I get BUSINESS CARDS!!! They rang me up to get my details so they could put it on MY BUSINESS CARDS!!! I told them to order 5000 in the first batch, because I'm going to be giving them away to EVERYONE!
Taxi driver? Here have a business card. Guy at Baker's Delight? Here...take my card. Homeless bum in the gutter? Take a card and ring me if you want to upgrade.
I'm so chuffed about those cards.
I'm going to be working absolutely horrific hours (think 9 'till 9, six days a week), but I'm actually really looking forward to it. I'll be getting paid to argue with people....it doesn't get much better than that. I get to persuade!
When I told my mother who I was going to working for, the first thing she said was "get rid of that DAMN annoying little girl on the ad. She has got to go!".