For the love of Samantha

There’s a whole bunch of things I could say about myself that would be funny, insightful and potentially even endearing.

But i don’t feel like it at the moment. Right this instant I’m sitting jap-style on the floor, still in my sweaty albert very cute gym clothes, trying to think about what I want to say.

I’ve always thought I would be special… like superstar special not smash-head-against-keyboard special. I can do a number of things quite well but just never followed through… i.e. singing, blogging, posing etc. I also have mad skills when it comes to make up (i wanted to say witchcraft and wizardry but that would be a lie and according to my mum, lying is bad) but for some reason, none of these ‘talent’s made it very far and so here I sit, an old hag, a slave to the corporate world and 2 mortgages.

You know… i even punch quite well…. but again… nothing eventuates from that apart from your mates thinking you might blow up when angry. I punch well but i’m not the hulk guys… so calm your titties down.

I think sometimes I’m kinda spoilt, girly and princessy but then other times, I’m three times the man any penis can be pretend to be. Maybe I have split personalities… i don’t know really. What I do know, is that I’m quite entertaining and when I write, i laugh at myself and that makes me happy… so here i am… just babbling… AGAIN.

Okay. i think I should go and clean my feet now… they got dirty when i took my shoes off to knee the bags… also i feel bad that T is cleaning by himself and i’m sitting here just exercising my fingers. In the none lesbian sense of course. 😛

The many faces of me… the split personality control freak or if you’ll have it, a chameleon.