I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I quite literally went around the world three times, got a not-so-extreme make-over, rediscovered some people (a.k.a. my family), made-up and broke-up with Norway, got offered a regular job (paying the local rate = volunteering with cab fare), managed not to laugh when rejecting said job, got Burberry in Vegas and Dior in Singapore, and basically ran a muck with Mum. And now, while lamenting the loss of the toenail I left on a mountain in Stavanger (summer sandals may have to wait awhile yet) I find myself in Melbourne, good old OZ, wondering “what does a newly single and homeless girl wear to an ‘I dare you to wear…’ costume party?”.
The front runner at the moment is an “I (heart) Myself” t-shirt.
I have no house, I have no car, I have no man (I really have no man), I have no toenail, for three days I’ve had no voice, and most unacceptably I have had to divide my shoe collection between two countries. I do however have ME, and though Norway may not, I (heart) myself.
I also (heart) Shiraz, throat lozenges, and rebound affairs. Let’s hope in this case a+b=c.
