Money money money

I spend entirely too much of it.

We've decided that next year while I'm studying it will be too much for me to be working aswel. So from May next year until May the following year I won't be working. I'll be a full-time student. Which means that for the time being it's save, save save. Which is all kind of exciting. It feels like this new chapter in my life is rapidly approaching and I just can't wait!

But on the other hand, I love spending money.

Hello my name is Gabriella Plymouth and I am a shop-a-holic.

I was just reading Cosmo and apparently I earn 50% less than the average Australian woman. Are they basing this on people my age or not? That seems like way too much. Although, at the moment (in NZ) I'm earning 480 p/w for 40+ hours. That doesn't seem like enough.

That's before tax.

Felix needs a job.

Hiccups

I has them. They're not ordionary ones either. They're more of burping *hic*s. It kinda hurts. Plus it's gross.

I went to the gym tonight, but only for 20 minutes (you go for half an hour at Curves) because it's pizza night tonight... A tridition decided on last night. Nice. Except my pizza was kinda shit. And now I'm all gassy and hiccy.

So today I became a slave-monkey and was forced to work in the fast-food area of the restarant. Drive-thru, to be exact. This damned country, fucking fuck. I was standing *outside* taking orders (why? Racism, that's all it can be down to) when it started fucking hailing. *Hailing* people. R U SRSLY DOOD? Something that kind of disturbed me was that my ears felt like they were going to come off... Are my ears that sticky-outy? No one has told me this before...

This God-damned laptop needs some Firefoxing. I don't know if what I'm spelling is legible or not. I don't care if it isn't. You know what I'm getting at.

It's the Liiiooonnn Maaannn

Doin' all he can!

When my mum and brother come over in September we're sooo going to see that.

Speaking of going and seeing things, I kinda thought it would be cool to go to Canada for my birthday if we had the money. So I emailed my friend to see what she thought. Her and my best friend from Australia are going to Disneyland on my birthday. Fucking Disneyland. Fo shizz. I mean come ON. Nice excuse? What the fuck is wrong with me that they don't even want me to come half way accross the world to see them?

So, update, I have no friends. Confirmed today by my Aussie friend not texting me her cell phone number. I'm a total loner.

So then we thought we could go to Vegas for my birthday. Natch, that won't work. Thailand looks totally cool though. I think Thailand.

I'm not turning an interesting number, I just want it to be fun this year.

If that doesn't work I will settle for a digital camera.

I want pretty hairs

There's a flier up at my gym which says something about signing up to get your hair experimented on by a hairdresser in town. It sounds like fun, but do I have to sign a contract or something saying that if they shave me I can't get pissed? Because as much as my hair is drab and shitty right now, I still want it to look okay.

I don't think I'd like another perm. I like my hair when it's straight now.

Also, do you think that they'll charge me? I hope not, I don't have any money.


I wonder if they'll wax my 'brows.

OMG I hate this country

Today was my second day of work. Holy mother fucking shit. I'm so fucked. Like a genius, Felix and I decided we would make a rabbit hutch on Monday with some of his grandparents old wood (hur hur hur) and stuff. It had sand flies ALL over it, and I only realised until I had 40 million of them eating my ankles. Que swollen, sore and itchy feet.

Add working on them for 18 hours and mix with a little PMS.

I'm a sad, angry, itchy little girl.

On the bright (ish) side, I'm going to the gym tomorrow. Horray for my health kick! I just finished off the Tim-Tams...

Mmmm, unnecessary food...

I need to stop eating before I become a dead, bloated cow on the side of the road awaiting a dead-cow pick-up truck to take me to the pie factory. Seriously, this is how desperate the situation is becoming. I made home-made chicken kiev with roasted italian potatos and a mountain of peas, corn and carrots. Fuck yeah. And Felix won't even clean up the kitchen. Are you kidding me? Never, EVER cooking for him EVER again. From now on, it's all ME baby. I'll clean up after MYSELF.

But if I do that then I'll prolly have to sleep in a different room. There's all sorts of crap all over the floor in here, as our bedroom doubles as our lounge. Turning my head to the left I see 3 bags of rubbish (THANK YOU GABRIELLA for putting the rubbish INTO bags, a routine I am YET to grasp). To my right there's not too much; the heater, a powerboard (which switches off when there's too much plugged into it, nice work designers. A powerboard which can only take as much as a double adapter. Real good design.) 2 dirty bowls with old corn dogs in them. An almost-empty juice bottle. I suppose that is kind of shitty, considering how normal people's houses look like.

Felixesses friend is coming to stay next week. No, he's not from out of town, he just hates his family right now. I think it's because his mother doesn't cook for him? Okay, big boy. Cook for your God damn self. If you're going to leech off your parents for this long, then why not cook for them or something? I couldn't even imagine leeching off my parents for so long. I was planning on moving out ever since I was 15. I couldn't wait.

Even though now we're living in Felixes Mum's house... At least no one else is. And we're buying our own food... N shit.

Shut up. I can't wait to live in Melbourne, with my beautiful house and helpful boy friend to keep it clean. Me, with my feet up on my beautiful coffee table watching Greys Anatomy on my beautiful flat-screen TV.

*Sigh* I'm allowed to dream.

Stroke my massive ego

Finally, somebody wants me. And like a daddy-issues teen I've attached to them and I love them with all my heart, and if they break it I will become a cutter and dye my hair black.

Ahem. Moving on.

So now I'm a barista. I heart that word. Barista. Bar-Is-Tah! It's ever so much fun. I love teh coffee and I love teh milks and I love teh chocolate. I love my job!

Even though I haven't *exactly* started. I have a shift on Tuesday which is 8 hours, yikes! I haven't worked 8 hours straight since I was a slave driven tween. It should be fine though, I should be all rested up after my month of unemployment. *Yawn*.



Also, visit www.ecoist.com (it's in my links section) and buy me things that I can't afford. Kthx!