I now know that all I want for my birthday is a charm bracelet, a corset and a polaroid camera. oh, and wads of cash. oh, and to go and see Chicago. so not much really! I would also like a pug with a chanel collar, just like the one staring at me from my wall. oh, how I want a pet.
I am being forced out of bed at some unreasonable hour to work on project of death with Ross, the partner of death. nothing is ever right or good enough which then results in him 'perfecting' each sentence into a mass of over-long, complicated words that scream 'I haven't done any reading so I am putting in loads of big words'. it's really hard to work in pairs to write an essay. I could get it done in a day. Ross will deliberate over every word until it's 'perfect'. it took us 2 hours to write a paragraph today. yes, it's that bad.
I am going to go and cry about the horrendousness of tomorrow, whilst reading the new AP books. au revoir.