A Celebration of Girl Hotness (minus party pies and balloons, sorry)

I have a friend, (and no, that isn’t the actual story). And she always, always, always describes females we may or may not be staring at (judging) while we discreetly sip on delicious, frothy, caffeinated milk drinks as one of two different kinds of hotness. “Guy Hot” or “Girl Hot”.

Not many people can say they have literally come back from the dead. I can.

If you click the sentence above I may not (but probably will) tell you all about it....

The coolest way to dump someone in 2010: Move overseas.

Remember in Year 8 when you were dating someone you met in the tuckshop line for five weeks (ok, three weeks) (this is presuming you grew up in a small town where same-sex schools were only in movies and actually probably don’t exist in the real world). And then, after several awkward conversations (ok, two conversations) (mostly by telephone), they actually expect you to go on a date with them (asking by MSN, der), and you know your Mum wont let you go to the movies with a boy and you realise he actually wears way too much hair gel anyway so you send all of your girlfriends over to his friends to say “She doesn’t like you anymore, your dumped”. And you would both go your separate ways until English in 5th period where you would be embarrassed and nervous and have sweaty-palms for the entire class. Oh, was that just me? HAHA! Well that is just ridiculous; I would never date someone I met in the tuckshop line and everyone knows the hot guys kick the football at lunchtime.

Just a little bit of an aggressive soap box-style rant about how nothing good happens when children’s issues are dragged into courtrooms.

I’d be lying if I said that working in family law doesn’t make me wonder a bit about relationships. I’d also be lying if I said I don’t suffer from severe hayfever in winter. I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t sleep in this morning and had a dream that the person who broke into my car last year apologised and gave me my 1st Generation Ipod back which she stole (and I say she, because in my dream it was one of my teachers from primary school who is sadly no longer with us). But now you all know and you can catch me out on it if I ever tell fibs.