I'm really failing at this

Blog Every Day in August has fallen flat on its face, for the following reasons:

1. My parents came to visit, and thus Friday after Jeans for Genes Day - a roaring success - I stayed up all night 'cleaning'. By cleaning, I mean half-heartedly vacuuming as soon as Bride and Prejudice, followed by Veer+Zaara, came on. Bollywood makes cleaning fun.
2. Promptly following parents' visit, I fell asleep from sheer tiredness and sickness. At 7pm. 
3. Spent today writing articles, and feeling ill.
4. Feeling slightly better, with new job tomorrow (:O)

So apologies, but I'll blog as frequently as possible.

Well, not much has really happened. Jeans for Genes Day, as said above, was pretty grand. We wore aprons and caps, and were routinely shunned by Brisbanites. For instance, one particularly amusing instance was with a sharply dressed businessman who was eyeing off our booth as he strode down past Woolworths. I caught his eye and he instantly looked towards the ceiling, and proceeded to eye it studiously until he had passed us significantly. Like, "Hello up there, how interesting that white ceiling is!" I, being retarded, decided to see how interesting the ceiling was.

Needless to say, it was not. There wasn't even a spider. I was shocked and appalled.

Anyway, another interesting thing from Jeans for Genes Day. Dyson's Airblade hand-dryers. Oh my goodness, these things are great. You actually put your hands in the dryer and 10 seconds later, boom, they're dry. I went to wash my hands after lunch, and stared at the contraption suspiciously. I had no clue what to do. Was I supposed to... put my hands in it? The girl who was behind me peered at me confusedly, stepped calmly in front and put her hands in. And returned with them intact.

Go to the Indooroopilly shops and just wash your hands. It is worth every cent of the bus fare.

Also, my parents came up. I haven't seen my mother in about 4 months, and my father for probably 3. It was great. We had a lovely brunch, and my mother said excitedly, "We have letters for you!"

She meant my tax and a bank statement, but instead she gave me a letter addressed to Miss Inca Pavez c/o Pavez Family (yes, the vet addresses the checkup letters to the animal itself) and a letter for Dad. 

But letters seemed to be the theme, as Dad then gave CP and I letters.

The result? Early Christmas presents. I no longer write on Lupin, but on the new STANLEY.

Stanley. An Eee PC, and an unbelievably smexy one at that. He is touch screen. So I'm going to write this next sentence via touch screen:

This is a sentence written very slowly on my screen.

I could be lying to you, but my brother, currently laughing hysterically on the floor, can vouch for me.

Stanley is beautiful. Gorgeous. I am besotted. Lupin? Old news. Stanley is perfection.

The rest of the day was lovely. Went out for Turkish in Southbank (go there, get the King's Feast, and take 4 friends. It is BRILLIANT). I got a sinusy cold, then woke up, wept at my parents' leaving and then raced to see Akira. It was wonderful; Fashion Week at Southbank gifted me with a cupcake.

I miss my parentals, and this blog post is making me more and more tired. I have to go to work tomorrow (I know, right) and Chris is chomping at the bit to get on here and check his Facebook and his email and I'm learning how to get out of my head and death is imminent and I'm being overly dramatic.

Sigh. Tired. Goodnight.