Burglar Blues

There's only one thing worse than coming home and finding your door wide open and that is coming home and it wasn't in the spot you left it in. Lucky for me it was the former I came home to.
Really annoying knowing you have been robbed. Really, really, really annoying being robbed three times in last three years. If only I was this popular in dating world and I would have a Prince in no time! Might get some camera surveillance for my house just in case I am missing some hotties who have been coming to visit.
So there I am at wide open door and I have been clearly broken into. Walk into first room and everything in tact. Walk into second room and again everything in tact and nothing taken. I am not only confused but very nervous as I wonder why someone has broken in but so far hasn't taken anything. I am too afraid to go to next level of house as figure my "visitors" must be staying for a cup of tea.
Had to get neighbours to help me look and was very happy when no killers jumped out of my washing machine.
Alarm sensor must have deterred them. That or my photo from high school near the front door. My hair was very scary.
Best part of night was when police arrived. Three of them. All young, all gorgeous. Seemed too good to be true. As they took photos and fingers prints I began to wonder if maybe they were strippers and my friends were playing a trick on me. Put song YMCA on the stereo and waited for the show to begin. Was disappointed when no clothes came off. Even pulled a few singles out for encouragement. Instead got a police report and warning for trying to bribe an officer.
Was worth a shot.

Crusty Bits

Having this 6 to 12 disease is exhausting. Trying to fit everything in before the disease takes hold is just becoming too difficult.
Kind of defeats purpose of having stupid disease in first place if I don't have time to spend "rest" of life with Prince. Right now if Prince came riding up and awoke me from slumber of stress and sleep in my eyes I would have to roll over and say I have a headache.
Must rethink what is priority and create more space in brain for the important things.
Definite priority is watching latest Predators film when comes out. Almost had multiples in cinema chair when I saw the preview. Firstly...hello...Predator film...brilliant! Secondly, premise is hunting humans for sport and thirdly, guess who is starring in film? Yes that's right! My pashing partner in crime Adrien Brody. Feel sorry for whoever comes with me to film as I will be panting and hyperventilating and re-enacting Meg Ryan's scene from When Harry Met Sally.
It must be clear now why life is so stressful with thoughts like these running through my...um...head.

Scrambled Eggs

The decision to attend a party is always going to go one of two ways. The first is a night of tedium and rolling eyes (mine) with people that are dull and mind numbing and as soon as 10pm hits it is officially time to exit stage left and still be polite.
Then there are the parties that are unexpected surprises. The other kind of party. Usually the one that you have to drag yourself to in the first place because your pyjamas are calling.
This weekend held one of those such parties.
I arrived late, only because the drive was like going on a road trip and as such stops at fast food places are a must. Plus, I got lost a few times and considered turning back around and having a hot date with my pyjamas who love me unconditionally.
Was strong and finally made it to party. Arrived at time of speeches, but was a good thing as no one knew I was late, and low and behold the bar was right were I had to come in. With red wine in hand felt suddenly fabulous. Plus noticed that incredibly good looking man was also by my side and keeps glancing across at me (thank god I am a woman and my peripheral vision is brilliant). Pyjamas are suddenly forgotten.
With speeches over it was time to make way to awaiting friends and let the night begin. Turns out cute boy at bar was in fact gay (yes I asked) but is interested in having a baby, so would I perhaps like to be the surrogate? Can't seem to remember what I agreed to, so may be preggers soon. Did ask him what he was looking at at the bar when I came in if he was gay and apparently I have fabulous breasts and that yes gay men like breasts. Non gay man is standing nearby and agrees with breast statement and I realise that suddenly it is okay for all eyes to be on my breasts. Non gay man tells me he is dating and woman expert, so I ask him where his girlfriend is. None exists. I should be grateful as means I can now "have him" but I actually would rather "have" gay man at this point.
About to head home when I start talking to lovely young man and all I can do is think about him kissing me.
Yet all I do is leave.
Good news is didn't make an ass of myself and am without child. Thumbs up for me!

La Di Da

So far impact of "6 to 12 disease" has been minimal but enlightening.
Short hair making me feel very powerful indeed, so much so that put Wonder Woman outfit on and went out on streets looking for villains. Was also hoping Flash would appear and flirt outrageously with me like he does on Justice League but was obviously busy with his own villains (or has moved on from me because I was such a cock tease and clearly in love with Superman).
Officially starting on new novel today. Feel excited about new adventure I am about to embark on with crazy twins that keep taking up my head space.
Must get publisher for first novel ASAP with only twelve months to live. Then  have to appear on Oprah and make movie with Drew Barrymore. (Might have to extend deadline of disease if I can't fit this all in.) Surely I can fit in pashing Adrien Brody somewhere there as well. Will ask Oprah to arrange or maybe Ellen. Maybe can have bidding war over who wants exclusive pash for their show. Adrien is going to be so excited when he hears the news.
Need to write fabulous article for Cleo or Cosmopolitan magazine to prove I am serious about writing career. See no reason I can't do that. I have enough disastrous dating experience to fill a whole magazine and happy to create survey's along lines of "Will your Prince ever come back?"
So far it is not looking so good for me as got all D's on my survey which means:
"Unfortunately Prince is just not that into you. He still thinks you are a stalker and obsessed crazed psycho and likelihood of that changing is only if he hits his head in bike riding accident and has amnesia. Take down shrine and picture wall immediately and join a convent for good measure. Stalking is frowned upon as a Nun but you will still look fabulous wearing black. So win-win all round."
Will let you know when said survey appears in print.
Big day ahead now with having to pull down shrine as part of to-do list.

6 to 12

Something I say all the time is, "Life is too short for tomorrow". I like the saying and most of the time I try and live by it. So I got to thinking...

What if I was told I only had six to twelve months to live? What would I do and what would I change?

So I have officially self diagnosed myself with a disease called "six to twelve". 

I have a maximum of twelve months to turn my life around.

Gotta be better than just existing.

If nothing has changed after twelve months then off to Afghanistan I go.

Had no idea where to start when worked out I was "dying" of 6 to 12. I did google disease and looked up as many medical websites as possible for symptoms and cures but so far no luck. I am clearly suffering from very rare disease.

With no hope of a cure I look to my next twelve months with gusto.

First step chopping off all my hair. Not sure that is life altering but felt like it needed doing. 

Hoping that I will be the reverse of Samson and with no hair have amazing strength.

That's as good as I have gotten so far.

White Wedding

Watched Muriel's Wedding again the other night, and whilst don't really want to be Muriel when I grow up, it did get me to thinking.

Maybe I am going about this idea of finding my Prince all wrong. Maybe if "I try it on: he will come". Seems like a very sane and practical idea.

So given it was mid week figured there would be no problem with just turning up for dress shopping. Plan worked. I was welcomed with open arms and only blushing bride in the store. In fact four stores in all.

I said my name was Toni (well I couldn't say Muriel could I?) I was getting married in the spring of next year and my man's nickname was PC (said it was because he was computer nerd but we know the real meaning!) 

I felt like a Princess, well that was until I had to try them on. Felt like I was in battle. Dresses wanted to torture me with corsets, petticoats and thousands of laces. Big boobs constantly got in the way and need stern talking to if they are to attend the wedding. I don't want any Janet Jackson moments. Ladies in store didn't seem worried, apparently once strapped in dress there is no chance of popping out (or breathing).

Question is how on earth is my husband expected to get me out of the dress on wedding night when I can't even follow the directions?

Imagining two of us sitting on edge of bed looking defeated and wondering if it was a sign that maybe it wasn't meant to be. Must remember to buy a white clutch bag that is big enough to fit scissors. 

Couldn't quite make an album of all dresses I tried on, like Muriel, (copyright blah blah blah) so have nothing to show for experience.

Actually not entirely true. Have dress in cupboard now.

Buy it and he will come.

Sleep walking

Have decided worst part of day is trying to get to sleep. Best part of day is getting up and having first coffee for day.
Why is it that when it is dark, I am tired and my bed is so comfy that all I seem to do is toss and turn and think about the fact that one day I will be dead? It is a very interesting time of day to be sure. Like my day wasn't quite good enough and so as a reminder that little voice (probably my Cabbage Patch dolls who have turned into Chucky) say to me, "You do know Paula that one day soon you will be dead. So what have you done that is so great lately? Has your life been good enough? Have you eaten enough pizza lately?"
As you can see it is quite a stressful time going to bed. Who wants to be confronted with the thought of the Grim Reaper every night? Maybe if I play Trivial Pursuit with him (think Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey) and hopefully land on all the pink questions I could cheat death or I could play Balderdash. There is NO way that Death is a bigger bullshitter than me. No way!
Rightio. Feel better now that I have a plan. Maybe I need to make a list to go with my plan...
List so far:
Memorise Trivial Pursuit questions and answers.
Eat more pizza.
Get a life.