(no subject)
126 lbs (v.v.g.), alcohol units 0 (saving up for tonight), cigarettes 3 (good for nerves), calories 700 (saintly), minutes spent trying to fix tights: 230
12:50 p.m. Must begin afternoon of preparing self for drinks with Harry.
1:00 p.m. Hah! Am going to pub with prince and you are not! Gah!
1:05 p.m. Damn tights...they've ripped. Must rummage throughout house for new tights, as cannot go drinking tightless.
1:30 p.m. Have searched throughout house twice over for fucking tights and found nothing. How is it that I manage to rip my only pair of remaining tights before important drink?
1:35 p.m. Have had brilliant idea. Once heard that using nailpolish to patch up bloody rips works wonders.
1:40 p.m. V. bad! Cannot find black nailpolish! Gah!
1:45 p.m. Have found gray nailpolish, along with a few odd assortments of puke-looking colours. But gray is not black.
2:00 p.m. Have found the black! Hurrah! Will now repair bloody tights.
2:05 p.m. Right...will sit here and for it to dry.
2:07 p.m. Will just have a touch to see if it's done yet.
2:30 p.m. Bloody hell! Have spent 23 minutes trying to repair tights. Seems that when I went to touch the fucking thing to check for readyness it smooshed. So therefore spent remainder of time biting tights and smashing things against walls. What to do?
3:00 p.m. Rang Jude and Shazzer wondering if best friends could spare a pair of tights. Stupid fucks...not at home.
3:20 p.m. Maybe tights will look ravishing. Shall try them on.
3:25 p.m. Have not seen anything more hideous in life. Tights are ripped and gloppy with black splotches. Am screwed.
3:40 p.m. Have decided to go tightless, maybe Harry won't notice. Shall go throw out tights from hell.
4:00 p.m. Legs look like newly cut sausage links. Fuck. Have decided to wear long sexy dress.
4:03 p.m. If only I could find long sexy dress.
12:50 p.m. Must begin afternoon of preparing self for drinks with Harry.
1:00 p.m. Hah! Am going to pub with prince and you are not! Gah!
1:05 p.m. Damn tights...they've ripped. Must rummage throughout house for new tights, as cannot go drinking tightless.
1:30 p.m. Have searched throughout house twice over for fucking tights and found nothing. How is it that I manage to rip my only pair of remaining tights before important drink?
1:35 p.m. Have had brilliant idea. Once heard that using nailpolish to patch up bloody rips works wonders.
1:40 p.m. V. bad! Cannot find black nailpolish! Gah!
1:45 p.m. Have found gray nailpolish, along with a few odd assortments of puke-looking colours. But gray is not black.
2:00 p.m. Have found the black! Hurrah! Will now repair bloody tights.
2:05 p.m. Right...will sit here and for it to dry.
2:07 p.m. Will just have a touch to see if it's done yet.
2:30 p.m. Bloody hell! Have spent 23 minutes trying to repair tights. Seems that when I went to touch the fucking thing to check for readyness it smooshed. So therefore spent remainder of time biting tights and smashing things against walls. What to do?
3:00 p.m. Rang Jude and Shazzer wondering if best friends could spare a pair of tights. Stupid fucks...not at home.
3:20 p.m. Maybe tights will look ravishing. Shall try them on.
3:25 p.m. Have not seen anything more hideous in life. Tights are ripped and gloppy with black splotches. Am screwed.
3:40 p.m. Have decided to go tightless, maybe Harry won't notice. Shall go throw out tights from hell.
4:00 p.m. Legs look like newly cut sausage links. Fuck. Have decided to wear long sexy dress.
4:03 p.m. If only I could find long sexy dress.