I SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN BED A WHILE AGO BUT THE MORE TIRED I GET THE HAPPIER MY BRAIN IS?
So this one time, I had a deathplague or brainsads or homelessness or something, and I was staying in my mother's friend Elizabeth, who did Reiki or Shiatsu or one of those made up bullshit things that middle-aged women get really into once they've realised they can't have more babies, and she had like ten thousand Calvin and Hobbes books in her bathroom (it's okay, she wasn't working class, she was Canadian) and I think one evening I spent about an hour on the toilet reading them with a torch because there was a fucking thunderstorm and she lived in the middle of the goddamn woods. Even more the middle of nowhere than where our house had been. It was epic. I was there going OH GOD MURDERERS AND DEATH MUST GO TO BED and there was this howling gale and massive pine trees in the night just shaking and probably crying too (can pine trees cry? they can pine, anyway. baddumtish) and I was there just going "AUGH - oh but that's really funny - augh bed but - heeeeheheehe lookit - argh" ... it did not occur to me at any point during this that I could just have picked up the books and gone to bed with them.
Also here is a picture of me in a corset looking amazing.
High-res →
The day I take a portrait of myself which isn’t absurdly blurry will be the day that I actually remember to replace my camera batteries and am not taking the photo in a hurry against the nagging flash of the little red “low battery” symbol onscreen.
Preliminary wenching. My NYE (well, pre-NYE) outfit takes about twenty-five minutes to struggle into on its own, including corset-lacing. Hair and make-up will take longer. If I do not look unbearably fabulous I’m going to throw a tantrum.