I want my pink hair back. Dammit, but i really miss it. I know it's silly, but i do. I wonder why i like to fiddle with how i look. Not in any permanent way. I've no esire to be pierced. But my hair and nails. And the occasional bit of eyeliner. And the silly hats, do they count?

Wore my hair in pink ribbons last night. Had matching nails. My excuse was that i'm breast cancer aware, but that was just an excuse.

I think i dpo this for attention. I hate being how i am. I'm an attention seeker and horribly shy at the same time. It's just so frustrating. You'd hope that these two opposites would somehow make me a blanced person, but no, apparently not. So i wear my hair in ribbons and smile shyly (And wonder if it's an affectation) at the compliments, and ignore the abuse, and carry on trying to be me. I still don't know who that is, but i've got to know the act better, which might equate to the same thing. I don't know.

It can hardly have escaped my readers' (See that clever placement of an apostrophe there? It seems i have at least two, although perhaps not on the most regular of basises. (Should that be 'bases'? I rather think it should, but i won't chance it. It's not obvious that i mean the plural of basis rather than base, i suppose.)) notice that i post very infrequently now. I have no excuse, except for doubting that anybody really cares. It's not like i'm actually interesting. But here i am again, to do little more than whine about boys again.

Except no i'm not. There's noone new. Still moping over the same boys as a year ago, pretty much. Mostly got over the one that found out, but nothing much else has changed. I'm still just too scared of boys to actually get near one. It's amazing how foreign they can feel to me after spending seven years in an all boys school.

So still no boyfriend. But that's ok, because i only vaguely want one. I'm not dying from a lack of love. I have things to cuddle.

A boy liked me in America. A Canadian. He was rather fetching too, (Slightly off putting nose. I have a thing for noses. Also necks. But maybe i'm just trying to make it better for myself. Not that i fell in love with him or anything. I seem to have learned not to do that, at least.) but had a boyfriend.

Also, has blogger started delivering junk mail or something? Because i've had four comments today (This is a lot for me, please refrain from mocking my sorry sham of a life.) and some of them are decidedly random. I find it very hard to believe that CNN would find anything of worth in my blog. And then not leave contact details. (Not that i looked hard or anything. Oh, no.) I don't really have any depression that needs eliminating, whatever i might have thought two years ago, and although i have a vague idea what a rash guard is, i'm not desparate to investigate further.

Do you want to know something really weird? Really, really weird. I kissed a girl. Well, mostly she kissed me, but it's odd, isn't it. Don't worry, i'm not on the turn. I'm just useless at saying no. Which, in light of this situation, seems a really bad thing. She knew i'm gay, but she still wanted me to kiss her. I was in America, you see, in a group of many many girls and very few guys. This, and the fact that i have a British accent, contrived to make me seem somehow attractive. Resulting in this. Weird.