In latest news, I have finally escaped the primordial wastelands of the Greater Geelong region. And I'm blissful. My Lola is roaming around at Dad's, fashionably owning the place and intimidating Dad's co-worker, Lefty, out of going near her without a peaceoffering such as apples, carrots or a feedbucket.
I'm wandering around Churchill and surrounding areas, taking daytrips into the city and back. However, still jobless, single and did I mention jobless?
I got a little down on myself recently, because I'd left so many fabulous people behind. As much as I hated that place, I think I miss a select few who resided in it.
I trained it back thereyesterday, and caught up with my friend Baby, who has recently discovered he's going to be a babydaddy - for real, this time. His girlfriend wants to keep the baby, he doesn't. It's horrible for me to see, because I love the boy dearly. He's a seriously drop-dead-insane drummer, had plans of an Audio Engineering course at University in the coming future; he even has a tour lined up with his band in the coming months - my baby was going places. As he says, he "can basically kiss this all goodbye".
My baby's off to join the high-ranks of Teenage Fatherdom.
My dear friend Cody came back into my life recently. Its pretty good. We had a huge bust up ages ago, because I did some pretty terrible things that warranted him to probably hate me forever, or burn my house down whilst I slept.
It just shows how incredible my friends are. We're planning coffee sometime in the near future, and rocking out awesome hair and fabulous shoes.
I feel kind of lonely at the moment. Whilst I have my friends, they all live in other towns that aren't 10 minutes away. I've moved to another town where I don't know anyone. I feel really hermitty. All I do all day is dream about Kiss Reid, sew and draw. I eat, and then I go to sleep spooning my cat.
I can't wait until I get a job. I'm so fucking sick of being broke. I'm seeing this job service guy tomorrow for the second time, he's pretty rad. He swears at me, and makes me feel good about myself by calling me intelligent. He's going to help me put a plan together to help me stick to shit, because he already worked out that I'm the worst at sticking to things.
"Amy, do you have a planner?"
"Can I see it?"
"... this is all just drawing."
"Isn't that what they're for?"
"Do you have a calendar?"
I opened my mouth to say, "I posed for one recently!", but decided not to.
The conversation didn't actually play out like that, but this guys basically going to get me set up with a short-term job, whilst helping me work towards a long-term thing. I've come to realise that I might be pretty good at managing bands, because I don't stop pissing people off until I get what I want. If all else fails, I'll stick with my cushy office job and try and start a studio of some kind. It would be totally rad; Kay and I would be able to be in love with each other, work together, and have sneaky lesbian sex when no one is looking.
My life would be set.
I really don't know how to stay on a subject any more. I'm pretty sure I have a mental illness.