Maamaa's birthday.

Last night Sarah, Steph and i watched around 13 episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians. I want a family like them. i want sisters like kim khloe and kourtney. they are so funny. Go watch it, Keeping up with the kardashians is now the most watched television series on E! in the United States. it has approx 1.6 million watchers per episode and no wonder becuase that family is actually hilarious. Khloe and Kourtney take miami is excellent also. Actually i find it better then KUWTHK.
clearly i am incompetent and inable to type the extended versions late at night.

Sarah and i were woken this morning by none other then a neglected and needy white dog. i dragged him under the doona and we all slept for another 3 hours.
Woke up a second time around 11.
Sarah left.
no present.
called dad.
have no means of transportation.
did the unthinkable. ride my bike.
i hate riding my bike. 1. it gives me helemt hair. and 2. its gay.
i have had to ride it twice this week, first in my desparation to solve an impending james crisisby dashing to safeway to buy chocolate chips and pancake mix and also to pick up curtains. had to ride home draped in black and white curtains. as i puffed up the last hill home i realised i hadnt felt this puffed since.... howqua.
was momentarily proud i was puffed, then mortified that i hadnt done enough physical exercise to get me puffing since howqua, and i havent been at howqua for about 2 months.
the second time ws this morning. mum needed a present. i needed to put my freshly blowdried hair aside and get over my image to get on the freaking bike and heroically save mums birthday on behalf of james and i. so i did.
half way there, i had chosen THE WRONG HANDBAG becuase it kept slipping off my shoulder and grinding ferociously against the wheel. scary stuff when you are flying at 100 miles per hour and praying you dont know every single person that drives past you.
Got to church st. I had an idea cooking.
Part of this idea was related to mums present and the other was related to how i can discreetly ditch my bike i pretend i wasnt the retard that actually had to cycle to get places. all this required was me securing my bike at a point near the top of churchy.
all this meant was me crossing the train tracks un-noticed.
moment of truth. my bike is a roadbike, ROADBIKE, as in, lacking extensively in suspension.
i slowed down too much crossing the tracks. causing me to periously stop in the middle, and my seat was too high and i stumbled off.
and i hear laughter.
it is george and friends. recover with phenomal speed and pick up my dignity. literally.
have brief chat, reminded that am spending 4 days in his company, and i am off like a rocket, literally heaving my bike into the nearest alley. i hope it gets stolen.
my idea is to go visit my friend in the camera store. i love that guy. probably becuase i make him a fortune as i print so many photos. but he always does them quickly.
i buy a 3-photo frame.. FOR 50 DOLLARS
and print of a photo all from the holiday, of mum and dad, all of us , and james and i.
i had to wait 10mins for the photos so i buy a v and go stalk the prada bags in pizazz.
and then i go and stalk the bracelets in wrapt. they are so expensive and ridiculous. hmph.
great. awesome. so now i have to carry a huge frame home.
i also went to the opshop up the top.
where i found a pair of calvin klein jeans which i bought 3dollars. i think they are from the eighties, the style indicates so. they are a light wash and high wasted and a straight leg and they are so funny to wear. hehehe. i intend to cut them into shorts as they're perfect for that but im having so much fun dressing up as an eighties child and stalking my parents offcut wedding photos that i shall keep them in their wholesome state for a leetle bit longer.
Anyway. Blah blah blah, battled with dishwasher attempting to force it shut, had riveting conversation as i straightened my hair to the dog, went out to dinner with anita and co to celebrate mums birthday.
My present was trumped when dad told her he got her tickets to italy. James tried to convince mum that (ours, but mostly mine) presnt was all his idea and his doing and therefore he should take credit, becuase i am compl,etely broke and was forced to steal $100 from his im-saving-for-a-bike money jar. he'll never know its gone.
and i found out thisss little piece of unknown.
already known to me, before dad started signing things and drinking coffee he actually used to direct ads, and he a great aesthic eye for deciding who should stand where and who should say what, and he occasionally still writes the odd 30 sec clip and leaves his snug comfort of signing things and drinking coffee to direct an ad. But what i had no prfound idea of was that my dad has written a movie script. i actually didnt find this too laughable, i was just fucking intrigued that I NEVER KNEW. he wrote it 10 years ago, when he was planning on doing somethign with film, and he wishes it were better. im not sure if he stills writing it, but i know its called brad, and is about a character called brad. .. makes sense. its not a comedy and this is all i know but i will interrogate both mum and dad in the morning.
fascinating stuff.
found hidden in my almost walk in robe is my parents unknown and not the official wedding albums. i wish my mum had kept her dress.
the dog is miaowing.

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