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Monday, June 11, 2007
2.0
Recently pressured by my peers into joining various social-networking communities (because clearly my schedule could do with even more procrastination and time-wasting), I've found the private twittering with my mates that it offers, surprisingly quite liberating: it means I can write about mundane day-to-day stuff - and no-one shouts "whore" (or worse, "bore") at me in my comment box. Which is nice.
But with a lack of time to blog at the moment, I now offer up this mini-blog - a selection of my various 'status' messages from the last week or so - to be getting on with instead:
Abby is realising that BB's Ziggy looks like the noughties' version of Pat Bateman; a perfect Christian Bale-alike. (Phwoar.)
Abby is wondering why she is sat inside, working, on a Sunday, and not out playing in the sun. Boo.
Abby is rejecting the Daily Mail’s request for an interview and photo-shoot. They seem to have conveniently forgotten the fact that they sat on her doorstep for over a week.
Abby is attempting to use her mother's mathematical reasoning (mostly algebra; but might as well be Greek) to time-manage her life. Some hope...
Abby is learning that she had a mention on Radio 2 this evening. Hurrah!
Abby is in a demanding mood and expects to get what she wants.
Abby is rubbing her sore muscles.
Abby is in the mood... for a run.
Abby is completely and utterly addicted to the reality TV that is Springwatch's live webcams. Last night she saw some bats fucking: RESULT.
Abby is attempting to multi-task; not entirely succeeding.
Abby is gutted, but drinking more coffee to sustain her enthusiasm for the day.
Abby is playing hardball and not taking any shit (sort of).
Abby is trying to work and wishing she had slept for more than 4 hours.
Abby is watching the live-stream of Springwatch: baby owls! Eating each other!! It is like Big Brother, but with death and less bitching: totally addictive.
Abby is bored of answering inane questions about herself.
Abby is talking to people she hasn’t spoken to for years. Funny how tragedy brings people together…
Abby is wondering whether anyone will think her narcissistic if she casually mentions to them in conversation the fact that there is an appreciation society for her on Facebook.
Abby is sitting in the sun on the South Bank, watching all the fit men jog past.
Abby is politically influential, apparently.
Abby is wondering how come she is getting less sleep now than when she was working in the film industry.
Abby is drinking coffee from Angelina Jolie's huge thermos flask. (Not stolen: it was a present from her.) (Name-dropper? Never…)
Abby is watching a bat hanging upside down and doing a wee all over itself, live on Springwatch. This is the best TV ever.
Abby is deleting a sudden swarm of aggressive and hateful comments. Someone new has taken a serious dislike to her. *sigh*
Abby is waiting for her inbox to be filled.
Abby is questioning the difference between procrastination and perfectionism and is pondering the word "deadline."
Abby is watching a Barn Owl bite the head off a mouse and eat it whole, live on Springwatch Nightshift. Yum.
Abby is attempting to put all her snatches (of inspiration) into one place.
Abby is realising that her 34-year old body is not up to doing certain activities anymore: she is hurting in places she didn't know existed.
Abby is suffering a painful bum from being over-spanked.
But with a lack of time to blog at the moment, I now offer up this mini-blog - a selection of my various 'status' messages from the last week or so - to be getting on with instead:
Abby is realising that BB's Ziggy looks like the noughties' version of Pat Bateman; a perfect Christian Bale-alike. (Phwoar.)
Abby is wondering why she is sat inside, working, on a Sunday, and not out playing in the sun. Boo.
Abby is rejecting the Daily Mail’s request for an interview and photo-shoot. They seem to have conveniently forgotten the fact that they sat on her doorstep for over a week.
Abby is attempting to use her mother's mathematical reasoning (mostly algebra; but might as well be Greek) to time-manage her life. Some hope...
Abby is learning that she had a mention on Radio 2 this evening. Hurrah!
Abby is in a demanding mood and expects to get what she wants.
Abby is rubbing her sore muscles.
Abby is in the mood... for a run.
Abby is completely and utterly addicted to the reality TV that is Springwatch's live webcams. Last night she saw some bats fucking: RESULT.
Abby is attempting to multi-task; not entirely succeeding.
Abby is gutted, but drinking more coffee to sustain her enthusiasm for the day.
Abby is playing hardball and not taking any shit (sort of).
Abby is trying to work and wishing she had slept for more than 4 hours.
Abby is watching the live-stream of Springwatch: baby owls! Eating each other!! It is like Big Brother, but with death and less bitching: totally addictive.
Abby is bored of answering inane questions about herself.
Abby is talking to people she hasn’t spoken to for years. Funny how tragedy brings people together…
Abby is wondering whether anyone will think her narcissistic if she casually mentions to them in conversation the fact that there is an appreciation society for her on Facebook.
Abby is sitting in the sun on the South Bank, watching all the fit men jog past.
Abby is politically influential, apparently.
Abby is wondering how come she is getting less sleep now than when she was working in the film industry.
Abby is drinking coffee from Angelina Jolie's huge thermos flask. (Not stolen: it was a present from her.) (Name-dropper? Never…)
Abby is watching a bat hanging upside down and doing a wee all over itself, live on Springwatch. This is the best TV ever.
Abby is deleting a sudden swarm of aggressive and hateful comments. Someone new has taken a serious dislike to her. *sigh*
Abby is waiting for her inbox to be filled.
Abby is questioning the difference between procrastination and perfectionism and is pondering the word "deadline."
Abby is watching a Barn Owl bite the head off a mouse and eat it whole, live on Springwatch Nightshift. Yum.
Abby is attempting to put all her snatches (of inspiration) into one place.
Abby is realising that her 34-year old body is not up to doing certain activities anymore: she is hurting in places she didn't know existed.
Abby is suffering a painful bum from being over-spanked.
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