I really want to make a huge mess of all of my belongings.

This week I am not in the architecture building waiting for my Art History tutorial to start, but instead at home, lazing about, doing nothing productive with the little free time that I have. For you see, I am on holidays. And I am in the foulest of moods I can be in. Everything everybody does and says only furthers my anger. I just want to wreck everything and get rid of some of the frustration, but my room is lovely and clean and it would just be inconvenient. So instead, I am forced to attempt to swallow it, suppress it, and hope it goes away without rearing its ugly head in 25 years time when my mid-life crisis is due. My favourite way to deal with moods such as this is to insult sluts in my head. Fin.

Having a designated blog-writing time is definitely proving effective. This week has not been particularly eventful. Saturday night was spent trying not to neck myself at Crown. That casino is like a scary wonderland, where the most revolting specimens of an affluent and hedonistic capitalist society come out to play. It's all glitter and booze and tacky heels as people attempt to satisfy that never-ending desire for more and more money. It ends up not even being a means to an end, but people accrue money for the sake of money. And in some of the most debauched and immoral ways. In closing, Crown bored me.

On Monday, utterly fed up with Topshop's bullshit (3 weeks ago I placed an order for some clothes which included a dress with a cat face on the front but I have not received them), I bought a cat dress to satisfy my need for one. I am wearing it today, and it is making me feel happy automatically. It's flowy and pretty, with a section cut out of the back, so it's discreetly sexy as well. And it has cats all over it. And these cats go 'meow meow meow meow meow meow meow' all day long. At least I like to imagine that they do. I would like to post a picture of me in this delightful dress, but that means I would need to post a picture of the playsuit i mentioned here. And while I may have posted pictures of myself in the past, I'm not so narcissistic today. But I am sure I will soon enough. Here is a picture of the dress, anyway.

Here I am once again, sitting in the Architecture library at the same time, waiting for my Art History tutorial to start. Two new things have occurred since last week, however. Big M have introduced their egg flip flavour, and I am currently tasting this limited edition tastiness. The other not-quite-as-important news is that it has just been confirmed within the last hour that the Labor government are to continue to govern this vast land with a female Prime Minister who has been elected voluntarily by the people, and, well, chosen by the independents as well. This is what I have been waiting for. Being the crazy lesbian feminist nazi that I am (was), having women break through Australia's stupid glass ceiling is a big relief. With a female Prime Minister, the only higher power than her is the female Governor General, whose actions are dictated by the female Queen (but we all want a Republic anyway so this is not that relevant to the current left-wing female euphoria that we are all experiencing, are we not?).

All this feminine power could not have come sooner, as I am slowly but surely sinking into the imprisoning dome that is domesticity. Turns out there was a dormant domestic nature within me. I am becoming excited by the prospect of home decor and kitchen appliances. Tonight I shall be cooking dinner which I have been looking forward to for two days. I am becoming satisfied with the idea of teaching little children: that traditional occupation that has always been accepted as one that women are inherently good at. I guess the fact that I don't have a single nurturing bone in my body (womb) is comforting, as I do not have that inherent instinct for motherhood. Well, yet, anyway. Now let's all get abortions to celebrate this important day in Australian political (and women's) history. FUCK YOU TONY A.