* Yawn *

11/07/2005 11:18:00 pm

*Yawn* a couple of times today I've leant back in my chair so far that I've nearly fallen off...especially on those library chairs that have the swivelly base, coz you nearly fall off those when you're just sitting, let alone when you're *yawning*.

I'm going to bed, too much study, too many things to learn by friday, too many hours not spent asleep...except for my power naps which seem to be ending up lasting about four or five hours lately.

I'm unemployed, maybe I have a job at Myer in Bondi, but they said that I would know by today, but I haven't heard anything. I checked my email three times today and each time I had a new message and got v excited, however:

1. the first one was from Malcolm Turnbull: "Liberal MP for Wentworth". I don't know how, but I've ended up on his mailing list and I keep getting stupid electorate updates about how great he is and some thing call dogblogs. If I'd not been so stressed I would've had a gander at dogblogs but I'm sure it'll wait. What I really do not understand is how I came to be on that mailing list...for one thing, I'm not in that electorate, for another I'm hella not a Liberal voter, and lastly..I'm sure I never filled in any forms to do with him. Surely I would've used a fake email address.

2. The second was from Robert King, vice-chancellor and registrar kindly informing me that since the federal government are arsing around with the VSU legislation (yay!) we still have to pay our student fees for this year and at least first session next year. Yoohoo, another extremely akward, self-demeaning, degrading phone call to Dad asking for $250, let's not go in to the whole 'place a monetary value on ruining my childhood' thing.. in the face of economic rationalism he just doesn't really get it eh. Man, I could say so much more here, but I'm tired and it isn't worth the rant.

3. The third from my mother to say that she had gotten the photo I'd emailed and she was putting it on the fridge. Nam, that means there's now a picture of you on my fridge. You should be proud.

Now I'm going to bed, since I have a feeling I might be rambling a little. I have this other story about a nice but shallow girl (not me) and her attitudes toward cosmetics companies that don't test on animals. I'll save for another time though.

Actually no, I'm feeling a bit soap-boxy: So she was in my room the other day having a snuffle round my stuff (because my room is cool, natch) and she sees in the piles and piles of shit in the cupboard some L'oreal face product (that I stole off my mother shh). She turns to me and informs me matter-of-factly that you shouldn't use L'oreal; they're shit because they don't test on animals. She tells me that she would much rather they test on animals that her get an allergy. OK, I was not the right person to tell this too because she obviously doesn't understand the whole animal-rights concept, or the idea that you can actually do dematological testing on humans. And I'm pretty sure that if she knew what they do to cute little bunnies when they're testing make-up on them, she wouldn't be so keen on animal testing. I did want to yell at her or slap her a little, but I restrained myself.

There, soap-box is done.

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