Easter

I'm sad at how different the holidays are when you're a grown up compared to when you're a kid. All of the build-up is gone, knowing that you now have to BUY presents instead of just receiving them. I can't even enjoy the awesome that should be public holidays -- because that just means a day of doing work at home instead of uni and not being able to work (which equals not being able to meet my budget)!

*sigh* Being a grown-up sucks major hairy balls sometimes.

I did gorge myself on Easter eggs, however. Okay, so chocolate-gorging is also nowhere near as enjoyable as when you're a kid, but it's still pretty rad. For the first three days, at least.

I woke up a couple days before easter busting to pee. My rush to the bathroom is immediately stopped when I notice a line of tiny eggs in the hallway. I follow it through the dining room, over the clothes horse, across the table and behind the tv, where a giant chocolate egg is waiting. The trail continues across the bookshelf, over the fishtank, through the lounge and down the stairs where Pete the Potplant is holding an insane looking miniature cow with an easter egg uncomfortably lodged in his spine.

Either the Easter Bilby has some stupid timing or I have the worlds most awesome boyfriend.

73. Write an article for publication

73. Write an article for publication
That's right. I just wrote an article for the Star on a circus skills workshop. Y'all need to actually pick up your copies of the Star of your lawns and read them before you drive over them (yup, you're totally being targeted Mike) and read it. Then pretend Mark wrote it.