Aug. 3rd, 2011

kittydesade: (wolf smile)
Russian, in translation )

OOF. OOF I SAY. So, note to self: never, ever do vaults in the loose sweatpants again. Not without tying them up around your waist. Because even though, yes, there wasn't really anyone out there to see, the one time you vault up and your pants don't go with you, someone will be there walking their dog to see your pretty black panties. Murphy knows it, and you know it.

On the other hand, I can almost vault over the fence! And I mean full on, hands on the rail to guide and legs tucked under and over I go! Smoothly! That was... far quicker than I expected. I'm not sure if it's because of all the running jumping up on benches getting me used to vertical motion simultaneous to horizontal motion or what. But speaking of benches, I hit the benches at a run today, ran over a bench, down the other side, jumped over a small wall, up the grass, down the grass, down over the small wall, up on a bench, down, up on a bench, down, skidded to a halt. Without barely breaking stride. It might be cheapass baby parkour, but it is fucking baby parkour. Oh yeah. Who's awesome? That would be me.

Hopefully today will be less eventful than yesterday with its weird blackouts and the boy falling asleep when he should have been leaving to pick me up. Oooh so infuriating. Still have projects to do, check in, etc etc etc. I got a decent night's sleep last night but, oi. I could have done without the bout of fat-and-ugly-itis.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (morning ugh)
日本語 )

Oi, batteries, mine are not charged at all. I'm dropping things here and there as you, uh, may have noticed. And earlier today I had a marvelous and fairly massive fit of low-self-esteem and poor body image. There were tears. It wasn't pretty.

And yet. Despite that I did manage to check in, I put some measures in place to cut out the bad habits and I managed to get most of my shit done. So the brainweasels can just go chew on someone else's thinkmeats for a change.

Oof. Really, really tired, too. I'm ready for my weekend, I've been ready for my weekend for a while now. I want to go to bed early again, and I still have writing to do. Something something.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!

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