Second post in a day. My, I’m inspired! I just got back from dinner; got to catch up with a couple of friends, one currently at UWA and the other, in LKW. And dinner at the Yacht Club wouldn’t be dinner without servings of the huge hunks of red meat they call “steak”. I had a medium rib-eye, my first taste of true steak in a while. Mum always talks about going to Senja, but she has yet to set her plans into motion. She has a month and 24 days to do just that before we both fly off to London.
I’ve fallen sick, so I spent the day attempting to read Harry Potter, and finishing Season 3 of Grey’s Anatomy, and unintentionally falling asleep in front of the TV, and blowing my nose… A good day, in other words. I think I need sleep more than anything else, and while I’ve been attempting to catch a few more z’s recently, I still have a long way to go before my metaphorical battery is fully recharged.
Well, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. What can I say about this novel, other than I’m quite upset at how tediously boring the middle section is proving to be? Someone tells me the end is quite ridiculous, but since I have yet to read further than Page 375, I’m sure none of you will comment with spoilers to prove me wrong or otherwise. 
However, I will perservere, if only to finish the series which I started almost exactly 10 years ago and to give myself some closure. I may not be the biggest fan in the country, but I’m pretty sure I was one of the first to pick up the Philosopher’s Stone when it was first released. I was 9 then, 2 years before the teachers at my primary school branded the series as evil and banned it entirely; I’m nearly 20 now. It’s a scary thought.
And since I’ve been sick, I’ve been thinking! Thinking about how clothes are a reflection of one’s true personality. How very World Lit. of me; Uppie would be proud. I realise I tend to wear a lot of solid colours — my wardrobe is peppered with a lot of black (though you should not mistake it to be a sign that I am turning goth/emo, no way) and monochromatic offerings. I abhor anything embroidered, especially jeans, and I can never pull off skirts, especially of the sort they sell at shops like Iora (which, by the way, are complete rip-offs. How anyone could pay $60.00 for a such fragile-looking dresses is BEYOND me). Perhaps this means I’m a no-nonsense person in real life; that I’m not a pushover. (I scoff at the latter actually. I am a pushover and it is occasionally not very funny.) Maybe it highlights the fact that I’m not wishy-washy, that I’m very set in my ways. But yeah right. So I’ve come to the realisation that I’m basically a walking contradiction, but I guess I’m okay with that.
I’m off to bed with a full stomach, which I hope won’t spell nightmares and broken sleep. I’ll catch up with everyone soon. Good night!
