So what i wanted to tell you was that last night, i enjoyed a quiet-ish night in, with my telly box, mango yogurts, drunk people, and a 2 year old Mini Me, that responds to the named of ‘Cherry.’ How adorable. I was hormonal last night, therefore i was on top Wunna form. This whole ‘sitiuation,’ i’m in right now is hilarious. One minute, your full of life and shimmie, the next moment, you want to breakdown and cry, dolloped off with exhaustion, and then a moment of ‘hornball.’ It’s brilliant. I literally have a Glamour puss living inside me and it’s already controlling my every little emotion in life. #terrifiedmuch. (I love it when it makes me feel frisky! I want to run around pathetically humping doors and tree trunks and teddy bears, in the shape of bunnies.)
So my chick friend came over with her two year old little girl, who is so adorably tiny, with the longest straightest black hair you have ever seen. It’s past her bum! She’s vietnamese, and in that ever so cute phase of jiggery. I mean she literally IS a doll, so tiny, and expressive and wiggly. I’m mildy jeaous that she has better hair than me and a superior tan. I asked her if she had extensions? She repiled with an ‘My mum said i can get them when i’m 4.’ 🙂 I’ve decided that she is my ultimate competition in life. Her eyes will get her into far more trouble than mine did, when she’s older…and that’s pretty much saying something. She could even fit into skinny jeans! UGH!
Anyway, unfortunately her mum was depressed. Great! Yippe! Bring out the fricking banners! Depressed drunk people, always want to hang around me when i’m *tee-total* and happy. I’d make a shit shrink, as i’d start having an attitute problem, when they began non-stop talking about themselves and their problems. I couldn’t really be bothered to make her feel better, because i’m in a phase where i’m blocking any negative energy OUT.
My friend, (Cherry’s mum) was a model and wanted to be horrifically famous. She’s one of those girls that was never happy with her own life, her own look, her own anything….and therefore thought FAME would make it better. Fame doesn’t make anything better, it’s an illusion. We’re ALL people. Entertainment is pretend. It is the art of ‘show.’ I love the art of ‘show’ because it’s fun. But i regard it as ‘playtime’ and do not define my ‘being’ with it. I place it in the same catergory as going on a night out, with cocktail drinking friends. It’s a ‘good time’ and dangerous when you have too much of it. Some of my friends, do not realize this….and i’m watching them fall to pieces, right infront of me. (Which messes up my carpet.)
My chick friend ‘Lisa,’ never learnt this lesson, and still strived to fill a void, with something that wasn’t real. When i was younger, i was the same. But now at 29, and having first hand lived Hollywood, bruises and all. I’ve realized that you can only become invincible, when you feel whole, loved, confident and comfortable in your own skin. Infact, so strong that your name will live on forever, no matter what. Regardless as to whether you wanted it to. When you are whole, loved, and happy, then your work is TOP CLASS. It’s superior and unbeatable. Then you can begin to make you mark on this world and flirt with the thought of fame. Your craft and love should come first, but not before YOURSELF. The fame part will happen…if you are good at what you do. It is not something that people should be striving for initially. I learnt this the hard way as a teen, turning 20.
After watching ‘My weird & wonderful family’ (which i loved. There should be more reality documentaries on the people of the world, rather than just of peopel who make the cover of OK magazine. One of the things that i lvoed about my ligfe so far, is that i’ve wlaked many paths with people, and seen how others life, first hand, millions of different ways. It helped me understand life, who i was, what i wanted to achieve and aided my success. My confidence. My ballsiness. My everything!
I encourage adventures in people, take risks, and a wander down the path life of another for a month. Be they a friend, a boyfriend, a stranger or someone you despise. Often people are unable to do this, they need that push, that cheeky Wunna *beckon,* that little bit of encouragement. I can’t always be there, so one of the greatest ways to learn other walks of life is via reality tv. Documentary style reality tv. I mean i don’t care to see what Danni Minogues doing with her new fashion range, or shoe collection. That reality documentary last night about the two gay dads that have parented 5 children was AMAZING and something that people can learn about. It’s essential to human existance. I loved it!
I watched my friend Lisa, drink all my rum and cry into it like a ‘forgotten about’ Pirate. She had been watching the ‘Katie & Alex’ show and the part where Katie couldn’t get out of her A-team van, due to the press trying to get a picture of her, made our Lisa cry. No because she felt bad for Katie. (Lol.) Yet because (and these were her actual words,) ‘…i will never have that happen to me now. EVER!’ Part of me watched her and oddly wondered why she was crying over something like that. Then the rest of me (and because i’m fricking hormonal) went soft and made me feel great empathy for her. My whole living room filled with her broken dreams, as she hysterically cried it out and into the walls.
Not wanting to dwell on such tragedy, i decided to make her little daughter ‘Cherry’ perfom for us all. ‘Cherry’s’ ace because no matter what, she will put her ‘2yr old,’ arse on the line for the random sake of humour. A future Queen of Greatness. She reminded me of myself…hence why i liked her, therefore I told her to do impressions of the people she had in her life.
First if all she did her mum..which was just some old lady, knelt on her knees, watching the telly and crying, (Lmao.) Then she did her dad…which was her just walking around like a bit butch lesbian, and doing some kind of ‘angry’ man face. Then she did me. Which i obviously thought was going to be a hair-toss, and a strut. But nooooo!
That cheeky little minx, carefully walked up to what looked like an imaginary cabinet. (I love kids, because everything is imaginary, yet at the same time so real.) It apparently wasn’t a cabinet. It was a bar. Yet her height restrictions, meant it looked like a bedside table. She picked up a pretend martini glass, sipped it, *paused,* then DOWNED it! After that she looked around the room, like a Little Miss.Diva and then before she walked away, her eyes seemed to go all funny, as did her legs. She did this wobbly head, drunk stumble, with a fish pout, and eyes that suggested i could be mentally ill, took 4 staggers forward and collapsed on the floor. That was her impression of me. 🙂 I loved every moment of it! I’m already making an impact on the lives of 2year olds!
The good thing about it was that her mum looked at me and smiled. Which was kinda all that mattered. It was the whole point to the process. Then a kitten commercial came on and made me weep. These hormones are pretty much getting the better of me.
They left, so i wandered upstairs to lay on my bed and read my pregnancy magazine, whilst chomping on cola cubes. I wondered what everyone else was doing in the world, then got a call from Loverboy, who wanted to wish me a good night. I don’t know how i found cola cubes, but i certainly forgot how delicious they are!
Woke up this morning feeling AMAZING. I’ve decided i want an old fashioned candy store, (sweetie shop) built into my house and i need a weekend away before it. (Shit, i forgot to tell you about the therapy, i had with a leprechaun yesterday afternoon. It’ll have to be in another blog. UGH!!)