Boys and Money, Money and Boys...
Yay, a rant session! And so long since the last one :P
Right, so, today I went grocery shopping for the week, the last 10 pounds I had in my account clutched faithfully in my fist, and was able to buy the following:
- bread
- bread rolls
- cereal
- frozen veg
- long-life milk
- pasta sauces (2 of them)
- 2 packs of ramen noodle (already eaten :$)
And that's what I'll be eating this week. Notice the lack of fruit and, you know, anything fun.
So maybe I should investigate both a) getting a loan, and b) going to an employment agency. If I run out of phone credit, vegemite or butter, or my jeans decide to completely discintegrate this week, I'm screwed. go
In other news, I got a call from mum a few days ago, as is always nice, because I like talking to the mater. She told me that she passed her residency test, which means that she has indefinite leave to remain in England (or the EU, or whatever, because she lives in France). It's as wonderful as it is unsurprising, and I asked her when I should go for mine. She reckons I won't need to because after I graduate I'll be able to get a highly skilled migrant visa.
Alternatively I could marry a pom.
She informed me (in case I hadn't figured it out) that when she was two years older than me she was married, and when she was five years older than me she'd had her first child (me). She asked me if I was casting the net out, scoping out the place, like Christopher was.
a;ekjfnvav;ieurvhaie;rbvaeili;rvkba;eirbk it's not that easy. Christopher, see, is a fairly good-looking nice guy. They are rare. I, on the other hand, am a butt-ugly nice girl. We're a bit more common. Or rather we're not, but there are plenty of gorgeous nice girls for the good-looking nice guys (and indeed the good-looking pricks, and the ugly guys) to choose before they have to resort to such desperate measures.
I'm sure mum realises that I'm just not a catch. I mean, come on. As well as looking like, well, me, I'm non-religious (big turn-off), I'm opinionated, I have a sense of humour, I'm sarcastic, and I'm clever. In the words of Chandler Bing, could I BE any more undesirable? Bleugh.
I suppose it doesn't really matter. So I'll have to adopt my kids and be a single parent. That's all right. I can totally deal with that. Being a spinster isn't that bad a thing - people do it all the time. The fact that it's not what I want shouldn't be an issue. I didn't want to be living in England either, but I'm managing that OK. I even like it a bit.
But seeing Laura and Dave the other night... it was lovely and all, and I'm not jealous in the sense that I want Dave or anything. God no. He's a child. But it'd be nice if that sort of thing happened to me once in a while.
Being the sidekick? Really sucks.