Climbing the Eiger´s North Face. Not.

I´m so disappointed in myself. Have been for awhile now, cannot imagine why anyone would ever like to spend time with me.

Went to a party anyway. Took pink, furry pills, just to feel cute, you see. Mixed gin with wine and ended up asking everyone about their sex habits – not as popular as you would believe.

I made a big creamy cake and served it on the terrace – success! But then I sat on the vicar´s lap and it was all back to normal.

My husband says ”Let´s go home!” I ignore him. He leaves and I end up feeling confused. What do I really want? L says ”Let´s watch Croatia versus Italy!” and I´m all ”Yes!!!” (I hate football) and then I furiously cheer on Croatia and end up not knowing who won (probably Italy, right?). J makes meatballs and watch with her husband´s friends, she´s afraid to say she wants Sweden to win so she just shuts up, but is that right, I ask you?

Sometimes I think the veins on the back of my hands grow as I watch them. They´re thick as ropes now and maybe they thrive on my gaze! I want to look away, but I can´t and so they grow and grow… I imagine I can feel some kind of pressure when they want to break free from the skin and suddenly I panic and have to bang my head against the wall. But I´m all alone, no one is here with me, so it´s all in vain.

Do you think I should wear vintage Schiaparelli or something from darling Vivienne? Do you think I care? Lalalalalaaaaaa…

I got lemon trees in pots for my birthday. They died. Not because of the temperature (that I would have accepted) but because of the wind! Apparently it´s too windy here, everything pales and withers. I´m becoming rather pale, although, that´s probably because I abuse sunblock.

Stupid ugly guy upsets me. He´s so very stupid. And ugly. And his voice has a weak whispering quality, we´re talking no stomach support whatsoever, and I want to claw at his eyes every time he uses that voice. But I  wonder about the size of his cock and I despise myself.

I strip and write cool things on my chest and then I take photos of myself through the mirror. The photos turn out average so I throw myself on the floor and scream, but there´s still no one here.

My husband prefers work to spending time with me. And then he wants me to be cheerful, willing and uncomplicated. I should shout ”No!” but the fact is I want that too. Hm, maybe some more pills. Or maybe I should replace my husband with George Clooney? My live in exchange for a coffee commercial.

Zlatan, Zlatan, your hair looks appalling! We are going to lose this, I can´t say I´m surprised. I gave up the right to feel surprised a long time ago, it´s such a fresh, young feeling! And I´m used to losing. I really, truly believe all is lost (sure, try recycling, see if that helps, knock yourselves out).

Do you think I´m cute? I´ll scream if you say no.