Intentions

This summer, I intend to:

• Get something at least faintly resembling a tan in attempt to look healthy for possibly the first time in my life - and to be able to bare my skin next to Dave without feeling and looking like an ivory statue in comparison.
  
• Not burn to a crisp while attempting the above.
• Grow my nails long enough to justify getting an actual manicure. And not bite them afterwards. Ever again. I really am too old to be biting my nails now.
  
• Finish my fnucking novel, already. Yes, yes, I know, some people take years or lifetimes to write a novel, and I only started in January. But I'm not a slow writer; I'm just chronically lazy so I need to get over it if I ever hope to write more than one decent thing.
• Paint. Lots.
  
• Sell some designs to art trading companies.
  
• Keep Keith (my clinically insane goldfish) alive. This would be easier if he ate the food I put in his bowl, and if he didn't persist in trying to jump out of it all the time.
• Speak another language to people for no apparent reason, just to confuse them. Heheh.
• Take lots of pictures.
• Have a brilliant holiday (although this is guaranteed; there is no way a week's camping in Cornwall could go bad)
• Start dance lessons, at last! How long have we said we were going to do this for, Benny?
• Keep up healthy eating - but learn how to make it interesting. There's only so long you can enjoy a diet of cereal, pasta and grilled chicken just because you know it's good for you. Sooner or later you need to actually TASTE something.
• Start swimming again.
• Listen to lots of music. Attempt to fill my mp3 player almost exclusively with happy songs.

So... it's going to be a busy summer, what with working full time as well.
I am looking forward to it immensely. Well, I say looking forward to it... I guess it's already started.

Better get on with that novel, then.

Oh, and one more thing:

• DECIDE WHAT I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE.

I'm sure I can fit that in somewhere...

I am bad at titles.

And not just blog titles, either. I am having even less luck naming my novel than I am writing it, and that's saying something at the moment. The most progress I've made with any aspect of it recently is wasting three rolls of Benny's film on pictures of me pratting about posing for the cover. Now this may sound vain, but I just don't know anyone else who fits the description of the main character even vaguely - short, slim with long blonde hair - so don't start on at me about vanity. I had to stand in. Yes, I could have waited to find another model. In fact I might still end up doing that. But I wanted to feel like I was making some kind of progress - and let's face it, pratting around in a little dress, in a park, in the sunshine, taking daft pictures, is a pretty fun way to make progress.

As is the compulsory glass of Rosé wine in 'Spoons with your photographer afterwards. And the lasagne. And the cake.
Oh, the cake.

Anyway! In other, more Chuck-Norris-related news... today on my lunch break, with the aid of that wonderful invention known as Sky Television, I was able to actually watch a program containing Chuck Norris.
Walker Texas Ranger; I would come up with an opinion, perhaps even a review. Unfortunately, I didn't pay much attention to the actual program, what with being far too busy being amused merely by the presence of the Norris on my TV screen.
Such is my amusement threshold.

Also, I got to go in a hot tub the other night. It. Was. Awesome. I bet you are totally jealous. Go on. Admit it. You are.
Except Dave, because you were there too... but still. Everybody else! Haha.
Although spending an entire hour trying to detangle your hair, at midnight, is not so fun... it was totally worth it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and tidy my room, which currently resembles the bastard offspring of an Oxfam shop and that beached whale that they blew up.

That is all.