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Sunday, February 05, 2006
Yay, I'm sure you will all be thrilled to hear that I was not canabalised by natives up in Far North Queensland (or, as all the cool people say up there, "FNQ"), and I didn't plummet back to our rich-red earth in an Air Crash Investigations-esque manner. I know you were all probably tremendously worried as to my whereabouts; I was going to update a bit sooner, but I noticed that all my posts seem to be on Wednesdays, and my inner OCD child was released. Can't be getting predictable now, can we!

But yes, it's nice to get to other more exotic lands. Of course, next time I think I will go somewhere where my body isn't covered with sweat as soon as I exit the lovely air-conditioned interior of a hotel. I spend a great deal of money and time keeping my hair somewhat in control -- do you realise how annoying it is to be saddled with a frizzy bouff for the rest of the fucking day? Like, seriously. Now I know why Aborigines have such fucking curly hair, and am also puzzled as to why normal people would want to live in such heinous conditions. Like, the people up there are nice enough I suppose, but simple much? I suppose it might be nice to live in an attitude environment, but yeesh. Their Louis Vuitton is next to a bottle-o and opposite a Woolworths. Talk about cultural cringe.

But now I'm like, totally exhausted. For some reason I find holidaying utterly draining. Like, you always have to do stuff, and find places to eat and drink, and you always have to get up at the crack of dawn, as you have to get out of the hotel room so the maids can come and clean the toilets and launder the cum-towels, etc. But I'm starting to think that maybe my biorhythms are out as well. A few people have commented that I'm looking a bit thin; I remember a time when I would be secretly pleased to hear such news, but at the moment I'm already quite paranoid that I am rather Richie-esque. Oh, and I got my hair cut the other day. HUGE improvement I must say, but in the first few days post-cuttage I always look a shade heroin chic. Stupid razor-sharp cheekbones and angular, defined features.

Also, I'm thinking it might be time for Cap Guy and I to have a little break... but I feel bad even typing that, let alone confronting him and having the balls to actually have "the conversation". It's not as if he's being particularly bad (very generous, attentive, nice, etc.), but I can't help thinking that there must be something else out there. Also, he seems quite content to stay in Australia, when I am really feeling the need to move on. Sigh, stupid relationships. Why do they have to be so hard? I sort of wish that he would just find someone else and dump me for them. I think it would be much easier that way. Pussy much, Dawei? Although he does have pictures of someone's penis on his phone, hmm. Sigh. But yes, I'm not exactly thrilled with the relationship right now, and he is picking up on it and it isn't very fair on him. UGH! I hate you, feelings!

I really do think it would be easier if I had such a repellent personality, that he would have no qualms in me moving on to greener pastures. Curse my adorable ways!