I'm having a health scare. I got sunburned on my arm last week, and today I noticed a scab has formed over a mole I have. Scabs are bad, this much I know for sure. So I'm going to head over to the doctor in a little bit, and hopefully they can reassure me. What intsead will happen is that they will have me get the mole whipped off, and instead, I'll be left with a nice scar on my arm. I scar like a maniac, or whatever scars easily. I had a mole off when I was ten, and you can still see the holes in my skin where the stitches went in and out. Great. This is just what you want the day before an exam. Plus, I can't even tell my ex-dermatologist mother (she who had the mole ripped off my back last time) because she is the worrying type, and has my cousin's wedding to go to on Saturday, which she just wouldn't enjoy as much should she know her eldest daughter was facing certain death through malignant melanoma. Melodramatic, moi?

Sometimes I think that this blog is really just a list of stuff I want. And its true. It is. But really, its a permament record of the fact that at one stage of my life I thought I couldn't live without certain things, but inevitably I will not buy them, because (a) I don't have the money and (b) fortunately I don't have that compulsive spending problem documented in Vogue this month. So its more of a tracking device for my current trends and desires. For anyone's information, they currently include things for the REN skincare line, oversize Jackie O sunglasses, a kaftan, white birkenstocks to replace my cheap versions which are a constant liability. The Boy will vouch for bleeding toes in Portugal. Beaded slippers would be nice, as would the ever-desired new pair of summer trousers. French Connection as ever are doing a nice range. But you know? You couldn't possibly define me through my material wants. That would be far too one dimensional for a shallow girl like me.