Jan. 11th, 2011

wataya: (Default)
I've had a bad day, fighting the french postal service (lost battle, I should have known, BTW. It's no use fighting them, they always win, by default.), enhanced by the fact that I won't take part to the next costume event out there. No costume, I couldn't suscribe to the other fun things that will be done on that day ("it's reserved to the memebers, if we have a place left, maybe.. in case of.. if the stars are alignated... but send a check anyway !" Huh... no. I don't need to have a check lingering somewhere without knowing how, when or if it will be used, waiting to stab my bank account in the back. Thank you very much. No way.).

And at the only thing I could attend, an informal ball, there will be the Bitch. Given that the only time I went to an 19th century ball, it was with her, on her invitation, and I stayed on a chair, not dancing, nobody speaking to me because I haven't be presented anyone, choking back tears because it was my fucking birthday night... I can only begin to guess what other bitchery she could do to me. Especially as I still can't dance 19th century dances. (BECAUSE I WORK THE ONLY DAY THEY GIVE A COURSE, MORONS ! They could have put it on sunday, when it's sure NO ONE is working, right ? OK, side remark ended).

Anyway.

And I stayed up late last night, making plans for 1882 dress, and when I woke up I found myself stupid, which is the worst promise for a dress.

Frack it all !

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wataya: (Default)
And Behold My success

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