onlyemma's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blame it on the aerosol fumes. Last night I dreamt I danced with the Jonas Brothers in a tent. Actually, that�s not all I dreamt � I also had an anxiety dream that I was trying to seduce someone in an old car while he was ringing a breakdown service (ha! I only just got the irony there) but he kept rejecting me, and then the Jonas Brothers came along for a dance in a tent. After a quick turn with each one I asked them if they remembered my interview with them a few weeks ago and they didn�t, so then I asked them if they�d seen my retainer anywhere. It�s funny what your mind conjures up when you let it run wild. Sometimes I just dream I�m looking in the fridge or falling off a curb. Two nights ago I got out of bed at 4 in the morning and, in my sleep, I ate half an Easter egg! I was still wearing my retainer while I ate it as well. And to make it worse, I couldn't quite fathom what had happened when I woke up with foil round my head and chocolaty drool down my chin - I looked like I�d been snogged by a giant cream egg. And this also happens with packets of custard creams, boxes of Coco Pops and now and then, marmite on toast. And I have the audacity to wonder where I get my ample thighs from! Anyway, tomorrow I�m interviewing on the red carpet of the Glamour Awards. To mark this occasion I thought I�d get myself my first tan of the summer (and possibly ever, come to think of it). And after meeting the Jonas Brothers (in person, not just in my dreams), I have recently realised that I am indeed extremely ashen looking at the moment (thank you Word synonyms for �pale�). So I spent this evening liberally spraying fake tan about my person. To be honest I�m not usually one for the fuss as I do prefer to embrace the pasty and altogether more effortless look of the pale English Rose; however I thought I�d give it a whirl as I had nothing else to do tonight and I'd only spend my empty hours moisturising my arms anyway. And boy, what a result! Do I have the most gloriously brown feet you�ve ever seen! The rest of me is another story, but my feet - they look great. Saying that, I can�t speak too soon as I waved the bottle of ambre solait around myself so generously and with such gay abandon that by the morning my torso will probably look like it's been graffitied by an illiterate chav anyway. So I�m dreading what I�ll find when I wake up. Hope it�s not a horse's head. Just kidding, it�ll be big brown stains! That sounds so much worse. I have absolutely no idea where this entry is going. 10:41 p.m. - 2009-06-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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