This week I...

...experienced first uncomfortable flight. Wiggled butt down Chapel Street. Fell in love with Melbourne...again. Planted long-time-coming kisses on girlfriends' faces. Drank Moscato. Drank champagne. Drank beer. Toasted love and the institution of marriage. Danced like a hoochy. Had my shoes stolen. Drank champagne again. Fell asleep in the middle of a party. Laughed with friends about it later. Regretted the champagne. Wallowed in self-inflicted pain. Jumped back on the wagon. Played tour guide. Bought retro alarm clock. Bought huge watch for $25. Realised two of the dials on said bargain watch painted on the face. Laughed about it. Wrote a column story about "faking it".  Was reminded about how beautiful my friends are. Felt sad when they jumped on a plane back to Cairns. Wrote feature about chick love. Sat in an airport for five hours. Hugged sister. Cried watching Les Mis 25th anniversay concert. Ranted to bestie about Joe Jonas casting. Went to sleep singing "Castle on a Cloud". Got a surprise call from ex. Secretly smiled about it. Wrote a column about my mean streak. Sang "Who am I?" in shower. Realised object of lust is married. Realised object of lust has kids. Laughed at myself. Wrote a column about it. Got attacked by a magpie...again. Dressed wound. Nursed ego. Laughed with my housemate about it later. Was reminded how lucky I am to have such gorgeous flatmate. Wrote story about sharehouse horrors. Finished final uni assignment. Clicked heels together on handing it in. Bad knee gave way and I fell. Laughed. Wrote story about shame. Let that old seductress in the sky kiss my skin. Danced with the devil. Ate a kebab.