These holidays have made me lazy in a way that is inexcusable.
Seriously.
I'm trying to remember the last time my hair was this dirty. Year 9 camp, perhaps? Or maybe that time I had Glandular Fever and couldn't get out of bed for a week.
Wow, am I painting a pretty picture of myself or what? Get in line, boys!
Haha. Suddenly, not so hard to understand why I'm alone. Meanwhile, my dream-self has been getting tonnes of action.
Oh, have I not told you guys about this?
My sister and I invented a word for the person you become when you are dreaming. It's your 'dream-self'. Why did we do this? Well because we are losers with too much time on our hands for one thing. And for another, I needed a way to distinguish between Real Jacki and Dream Jacki - because sometimes, they are complete opposites.
For example, Dream Jacki was pregnant last night. Yeah - see what I mean about my dream-self getting tonnes of action? But I can't go around screaming about how "I was pregnant last night!" because it would probably freak out my Mum. Hey, you know what else Dream Jacki did?
Dated Wentworth Miller.
Yeah, I am not even kidding. That lucky bitch! He even had a pet nickname for her, though it's so embarrassingly mushy that I won't reveal it here. If you really want to know, you'll have to ask Julia.
Or Kiera.
Or my sister.
Damn, I should really stop telling people about my awkward Dream Details.
Anyway, it's all good, because I totally got back at Dream Jacki by having to pee bad enough to wake her up. No more Wentworth Date Time for you, Dream Jacki! Haha!
Of course when it comes to Wentworth Miller, Dream Jacki and Real Jacki both want the same thing, so I was really only hurting myself.
Oh my gosh.
I just read that last paragraph and realised how insane I sound. For once, I hope Wentworth Miller doesn't read this blog, because all he's gonna get from it is that some crazed Australian polar-schizophrenic teenager is after him. And that's not true at all: I'm not polar-schizophrenic!!
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