roxanne, you don't have to put on the red lights

so, English brings many opportunities to waste time writing nothingness on this here intelligent site.
In other news, i am moving to Hackney quite soon, to live on my own in an apartment across from Botanic Park. i feel somewhat excited about this, with undertones of nervousness and stuff, because the prospect of living on my own is pretty daunting. I'm sure i can do it, i just don't really want to. but I can't sleep on Bec's couch forever, so I will attain an apartment, and be joyful.
joyfulness is win. Hunger is less win. i had coffee with Bec this morning, and used Fructis to wash my hair, and now my head smells strangely excellent.
I am so hungry though, because i left work too late to get lunch before school. And when i finish i have to go straight to meet Bec at trims, i can't even consume sushi. So i will eat Chow Minininins when we return home.
for honest, i should really stop talking about food. it sounds so nice i could die. well, not die because then i wouldn't be able to enjoy food when it finally entered my possession.
It will be lunch time here in approximately half an hour actually, so i may in fact attain some food then. But they don't have sushi in the cafeteria, and all i really wish for is sushi, which can only be attained at Sushi in the City, because they make the best Sushi, and i really enjoy watching the little Asians prepare my lunch to be honest.
I watched the Oscars last night, and fell in love with James Franco about a million times, particularly when he was dressed in the awful pink dress. Anne Hathaway was less appealing, even though she was wonderful in 'Love and Other Drugs'.
She cracked herself up a few times, and lots of people embarrassed themselves a number of times while accepting their little gold trophies. It was all much for the laughs, and then i fell asleep before it was finished, and that was the end. I did however, eat a satisfactory amount of hazelnut chocolate, argued with Bec about whether or not her cat loves her (she doesn't, cats don't love anyone) and made it clear the a gay person cannot play James Bond, especially not Barney Stinson.
It was all rather exciting really.
okay so I'm leaving now because my essay is being marked by Miss Mizpah, a name which never ceases to amuse me.
farewell