Why in God's name did I do stripes?

GACK.

Ah, Eighteenth Century Man. How glad I am to be rid of you.

My God, I will not miss this costume.

This is not a good photo. Francis is in a piss with me because I was in a rush and wouldn't let him sort out his hat hair. Hahaha. Why yes, I am mildly evil and taking out my stress on poor defenceless models, thankyou for asking. As you can see, the costume is perfectly magnificent in every way and this is why I have spent the last fortnight eating frozen curry and takeaway pizza when I had the time to eat anything at all, and going to bed no earlier than 2am. Coursework deadlines are not conducive to healthy lifestyles. Or blogging, surprisingly. Finally got this handed in on Thursday and spent at least 75% of my weekend in bed. It was goooooood. Of course, I am choosing to ignore the fact that this extension has put me almost 3 weeks behind on my Victorian tailoring unit, for which I am making (drumroll please)...another white suit. *sigh*

Other spiffy (or not so) things which have happened in the month of my tragic absence:

1. I turned 22

There was alcohol involved. I'm in a weird limbo stage at uni, all my friends from home have graduated and gotten themselves proper jobs and make me feel young, all my friends here didn't take a gap year/foundation year and are thus 19 and 20 and delight in giving me birthday cards with little old ladies on. I still have my birthday cards on my windowsill, almost a month later.

2. I bought my flights to Kentucky

I may well have bought these over a month ago, I'm not sure, everything blurred out of focus this month. However, I do know for sure that I got my dollars this weekend. I am feeling much smugness after some very good wage-saving last summer, and refusing to go shopping in England, so I've managed to load myself with £400 worth of Green for some lovely cheap suitcase filling. I <3 the exchange rate.

3. I am scarred for life

This would come under the not so spiffy category. I also may be being a little dramatic, I am hopefully only scarred for the next couple of weeks. Someone threw a bottle at me in a club. There was lots of blood, a whole half hour on the dancefloor and then three hours in A&E where a chav with a broken thumb and terrible teeth attempted to chat me up. No stitches though, and no concussion, though I did make the effort to look wan and wobbly the next night until my boss sent me home from work early. Score.

4. I have FOs!

FOs! Plural! Although, neither are blocked, and I feel they deserve a post of their own anyhow. In the next few days maybe.

Ta ta for now, I am off to start researching an essay on Iranian cinema, because I am diverse and interesting like that.