Lost Girl lives on.

Is my posture always this bad?!

I'm meeting up with my good old pal Chicken tonight. Although we had the chance to catch up whilst we attended the horse races a few weekends back, I was a little pre-occupied trying to not snap my ankle in my heels, and he had to rush back to his Army base pretty early. So tonight I'm taking him to one of my all-time favorite places, World Bar - it's also home to some awfully-hard-to-think-about memories of Alex & I having dinner there. I think it's time I built some bridges and got the hell over him, and can think of no better place - and in no better company - to do that in and with.

Krispy Kreme brings out the best in us.

Unfortunately, on our last encounter, Chicken made the foolish choice in telling me I seemed to have grown up slightly. As I have a rather large Neverland fantasy, in which I plan to be a Lost Boy forever more (regardless of the fact girls are supposed to be too clever to get lost in the first place).
This revelation startled me. And then it got me thinking. Chicken rarely saw me without my famous sidekick and partner in crime, BB. When BB & I got together...well, it was always a laugh (although I think mainly just for us, not the general public). Since my best bud is living in another state and doing all sorts of exciting Grown Up things, it's up to me to defend our honor and carry on our legacy into our old age.

I was thinking of going to dinner dressed not dissimilarly to this.
Jeez, we were sexy.

I'm just a little unsure of how best to prove I am not the mature, responsibility worthy chick people -worryingly - seem to think I now am. I'm not above screeching seagull noises in public, or changing my voicemail to make me sound like I am David Attenborough on safari -two things we always found hilarious - but when it's just me, I fear I shall only come across as insane, and potentially get locked up. I'd considered meeting him wearing head to foot camouflage gear, complete with war paint and bits of shrub in my helmet, but again, the locking-up thing comes into play.

I really should have sued the woman who cut my hair before my deb.

Growing up is no fun any more. So I'm going to dwell on some of BB & my more amusing incidents in photographic evidence, just to cheer me up.