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You, my dear readers, are soooo fuckin busted.

YOU JUST SKIM OVER MY ENTRIES!

Hmph.

Goes to show you (okay, some got it, but MOST OF YOU) didn’t really read. Gah.

I am sooo not pregnant. Pardon my disillusionment, but no, I can’t forgive you to be a voyeur of my life and not really knowing (or reading, for that matter) what I’m all about.

Hmph. *pout pout*

I’ve been receiving messages and emails and what not’s, congratulating me. Sigh. I can’t believe you guys…tsk tsk.

So I’ve been keeping myself busy lately. July has rolled around, and I don’t feel like turning 26 on the 25th *hint hint*. Seriously though, I keep insisting I am a kid, and I oftentimes act like one and whenever I am reminded of THE date, I just wish I could put a stop at it. Can I just be 17 forever?

Cos when I was 17, my dad gave me the most precious gift he could possibly give me: freedom. When I was 17, I got into my beloved sorority and really learned how to enjoy college. I had men wrapped around my finger, oh my god, it was such a high to be a woman-child at that precocious time. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a virgin when I turned 18, so I got that one pretty much covered a few months before my birthday.

Bitch Goddess Junior is turning 17 soon, and just looking at her and her giggly, Paris Hilton-smelling posse just reminds me how I was way ahead than my peers when I was her age. Sure, we talked about boys during jammy parties, painted our toenails silly and tried to sneak out at night to watch Eraserheads. But I always knew I was wiser; I was an old soul.

I’m lamenting. Sigh. I know, I will get reactions like, “Hey, you’re still young! 26 is not so bad. It gets bad when you’re 40.” RIGHT. That is, if I get to live till 40. I highly doubt that. đŸ™‚

Okay dahlings, this is just a light and silly one. Bitch Goddess not accepting she’s getting old.

Ta ta.

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