My Life: The Mindf***

It has been a busy week for me. Apologies for not posting more lately but I’ve had a lot going on.



I won’t bother you with the finer details because, let’s be honest, you don’t really need to know them and you probably don’t want to know them anyway.




Let’s just hope that I’ve finally got my shit together and now I can get back to the routine of writing frequent blog posts for you lovely people.


So my housemate and I have a broken fridge, one of the many things that’s not working in my life (like how I did that?) so we’ve ordered a new one and that’s yet more money that will have to come out of my already empty bank account.





We are also going to bug bomb our kitchen so we need to remove EVERYTHING from inside the drawers. A perfect opportunity to see how much cockroach shit is all over our little used items. Can’t wait.


I am in the midst of making a ballgown as well, which is super fun.


This kid knows more about making clothes than I do:


I’ve started writing another blog about the reason why I need this dress so fear not, people of the world, everything will become clear.

Anyway, the last time I made a dress was 8 years ago. There was so much dust on my sewing machine and even some dead insects. Nice. And now I have a week to finish making a regency gown before I have to wear it at a ball and I don’t understand the first thing about making a dress. Picture this:



And now imagine a beginner with no experience trying to make the above. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?



No, unfortunately not. I’m nowhere near that good. Even this is better than anything I can do:


Which means I’ll probably have to attend the ball like this:


If any single, straight men had intended to attend the Jane Austen Festival of Australia, well then, gee whiz, they might be in for a show. But since there’s no such thing as a straight, single guy who openly appreciates regency era romance, I think the excitement at my prospective nudity will be minimal.


And if you are a straight, single guy who likes Jane Austen and is happy to talk about it in a public setting whilst drinking non-alcoholic beverages, apologies for my narrow-minded statement above and “I mentally shake hands with you” as Mr Rochester once said to Jane Eyre. Yup, you witnessed that. An offhand quote from Jane Eyre. I knew that. In my head. That’s some hardcore literary shit right there!



I’m gonna let you guys process this while I sleep and then I will explain the ball and costume situation on the morrow. I bet you’re all champing at the bit for that post!




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