The Sea of Stars

I think I'm finally emerging from the fog of grief. I'm feeling the urge to write again. I'm getting my shit together. I went to the gym today for the first time in ages and I've booked the B&B, the train tickets and the hotel for my birthday weekend in Paris.

Still have to phone the doctor's about my birth control, because I've finally decided to go on it. Watch this space.

So... how is everyone? Is anyone still reading this? ^^;;

So, Tuesday I went to the Guardian Summer Graduate Fair, which was held at the Earls Court Exhibition Centre in London (and yes, that's how it's spelt).

( Unhired cattle )

I have recently been thinking about my boobs. I am ambiguous about my boobs to say the least. I acknowledge they're necessary for babies and that men like them, but really, that's about it. They're just milk bottles, that's all, big ones that make shirts strain and flop around and don't allow me to go without a bra. The thing is that I am physically lazy when it comes to my body. I would rather be comfortable. Having big breasts is not comfortable. I swear I'll get them reduced when I'm older. It'll be heaven to have a B cup and just wander around with no bra. I do like my waist. My thighs have cellulite, which is unfortunate, although it's improved. My bum is still too big. My legs are good, but I'm waging a constant war against stretch marks.

And in other news, I have an interview! This is for a Project Co-Ordinator job in Putney; it will be freelance until September, when the position becomes full-time. It would be perfect if I got it, because I could do my dissertation, earn some money, then have a job to go into at the end of September. They e-mailed me the day after they got my CV, so that must be a good sign. *crosses fingers* Wish me luck.