Hair on your head is gorgeous, especially if it's really long, like mine. But anywhere else? Under your arms? On your stomach? Oh, please! So I tried cutting some of it off. Trouble with doing your armpits, though, you kind of leave sharp ends and I'm going to itch there for a few days before they are naturally dulled. Looks much better though!!
By the way I decided to stop shaving my face properly. Progress reports to follow.
I had like loads of these when I was young. They're good because they (a) are adjustable, never too tight or loose and (b) like anything else round your arms, draw attention away from the fact that your arms're like twigs! Anyway for some reason I woke up thinking about them today, so I decided to see if I could work out how to make one. Success! My brain still works :-)
triv.org.uk's home page
The index page of the web host needs sprucing up so I tried to make a new one. However I need to learn how to use The GIMP. But it's too complicated. It makes me feel like an idiot. If I was in a better mood, maybe I'd stick with it but there's enough crap making me feel like an idiot right now.
Speaking of which...
Okay this is getting beyond a joke
Not that it ever was a joke of course. Well, yeah, actually since Everything Is Funny it has to be but...Shut up Rob, you're rambling again.
The point is... I go downstairs at half one-ish to find my mum, who I thought had gone to sleep at least an hour before, obviously very very unhappy. Why? Yeah. You know. She's worried and, I quote, "afraid", about me, my stupid life and where it's going, or more like why it isn't going anywhere. So we have this talk. She's like, oh I'm failing you as a mother, it's my fault you don't feel able to deal with the world. I'm like, bullcrap, I'm 23, I should be able to deal with it, if I were you I'd be telling me to stop being such a twat and sort my life out. Anyway after a bit more of this she says she feels a little better and the air's a bit clearer... But let's face it, we haven't exactly got anywhere.
And of course this sort of thing is going to happen again. And again. People worry about me and I get angry because I think why the hell are you worrying about me, it's not your fault I'm like this, stop it. But they still do. It's like there's this direction I have to move in, but I can't because there's a massive big wall there. But there's all this stuff pushing me in that direction. The fact that my own mother is quite seriously distressed about my situation is like being pushed towards this huge wall at the kind of speed Simon usually drives at. Yeah, you know. Splat.
There is one thing I can do though: remember I said I'd post my username and password for my DC application form? Well, I told everyone on IRC tonight what it was. So I might as well tell you. Here is the login page for DC's online application form. Name rjy, password dc01f. If you hate me, then put something rude in there and submit it. If you don't, then make some changes, or tell me what to do with it. At the very least, have a laugh, enjoy. I place myself in your hands; I'm obviously not going to do anything with my own.
PS Happy birthday to those who are older today (26th) and tomorrow (27th)