I’m giving Montmartre a face lift. In the process I kinda maybe, deleted everything.

Oops. Oh well, at least now it has comments, right?

So the past week I have been miserable, feeling oh so sorry for poor ole me, woe beyond woe as I slept and made an Amanda island on the couch in the living room. Sean commented that I had managed to have everything within arm’s reach and there wasn’t much room left for him.

What is it about being sick that makes our egos grow a thousand times bigger? We think the world should stop and people should take notice that we are taken ill, that everyone around should do…everything else. “Don’t you know that I’m sick? I don’t care about what you want to cook…I’m sick, my head is too sore to even think about that…but its my couch…I’ve been sick, didn’t you notice?”

I have become the master of the couch and my bed is so familiar that I now dread getting into it at night. How does that even happen? Too familiar with bed. and pillows. and being cosy. and sleep.

Surprisingly I’ve only watched 3 movies. In a whole work week. Atonement still isn’t any better. Seriously, how can a film be so good for the first 40 minutes and then just die in the arse?

Week of Woe discoveries:

Dinosaur Designs I have always loved you..since I was a 14 year old who wandered the Strand Arcade looking through your shiny windows. You still produce the goods.

Anthropologie…now has International Shipping. So they ship to Slovenia and Latvia, they even ship to Gibraltar, but do they ship to this backwater I apparently live in? HELL NO.
Doing this pretty much makes me most happy…

1. Untitled, 2. beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth, 3. teacups, 4. in garage, 5. Untitled, 6. i didn’t want to jump, 7. waiting for the whisper, 8. * camera in azure, 9. walk on the sky