A Really Long Blog For A Really Long Year.

Happy New Year!!! Today, in 1801, The dwarf planet Ceres was discovered by Italian astronomer, Giuseppe Piazzi.

So, now it's 2010, i've started thinking about 2009. A lot of people i have spoken to have said that 2009 was definitely a bad year... i'm not sure, 12 months, 365 days, 8760 hours or 525600 minutes (unfortunately, i didn't have to look those numbers up or use a calculator, they're just a few of the many useless facts i have stored in my brain). Anyway, that's a long long time, especially if you're young like me, those 12 months are quite a high percentage of my life and i don't think that all of those 8760 hours can be bunched together and classed as good or bad.

Instead, i will tell you exactly what i thought of 2009 -

January and February and March.

i actually don't remember these. at all, luckily, back then i still kept a diary...
ok. i can't really read my writing but it seems that these months were boring, i went to a terrible PGL camp thing with school. I got two hamsters, Noel and Liam, who both died later in the year.
Oh, and i broke my toes.
And i can now pinpoint the exact point that i realised Twitter was great - Sunday 15th February, about 6 o'clock.
The last entry in my diary is about a suicide pact i had with my best friend.

April and May and June.

Errr... i don't remember these too well either, in fact, i'm just going to say that NOTHING of interest happened in these months.

July and August and September.

I dislocated my shoulder.
And i had exams.
And i got swine flu.
And i went to my Grandparents' house.
And i met lots of nice people from twitter.
And i made chocolate and Guinness cake.
And i had the most wonderful time with my family at the seaside.

October and November and December.

I met more lovely people from twitter.
I went on holiday and passed a SCUBA diving exam.
I was more depressed than i can ever remember being before.

Now, I think that sums up 2009 pretty well, but what about 2010?

I don't make new years resolutions, because i don't stick to them. Nobody does, really. Even the people who say they do are lying.

Instead, here is a list of some of things i would like to do in 2010:

1) Learn to play the piano well. So that when i say "i can play the piano" i won't feel like a complete liar.

2) Learn to like vegetables. and potatoes. so that i can go round to people's house for dinner without them wanting to murder me.

3) Make my handwriting readable.

4) Cry less.

5) Make at least 5 new friends.

6) Meet someone famous.

7) Follow 116 new people on twitter.

8) Meet some more of the people i talk to on twitter.

9) Spend less time on/thinking about twitter.

10) Brush my hair more often... like, at least once a week :-S

11) Smile at at least one random person each day.

12) Raise some money for charity.

13) Get a new hamster.

14) Spend less money on music.

15) Buy a new phone.

16) Read all of the books i got for Christmas.

17) Do my Latin homework. always... (although this one might have to start next week 'coz i *forgot* to take my Latin books home for Christmas)

18) Stop letting certain people be horrible to me.

19) Stop being so concerned about my ugly face.

20) Write at least 1 blog a week.

I'd really really appreciate your help with these... well, those that you can help with. Just, remind me about them, ok? Because i'm going to be really pissed off when it gets to 2011 and i've not done ANYTHING...

DO NOT touch the Baby Jesus.

I love my mother, no, really i do.

But she is completely mental.

I probably don't help this though... i *might* do some things specifically to wind her up. Like turning the picture in the hallway upside down everytime i walk past it and writing rude words on the oven door and seeing how long it takes her to notice.

This time of year, it's extra brilliant. My partner in crime (my aunt) and i have several christmassy games we like to play.

Every Christmas day, my mother lays the table for 12 people, making sure that the crackers go - gold, silver, gold, silver, gold and so on. Every time she goes into the kitchen, somebody has to run into the dining room and switch a few of them around. The first 3 or 4 times she is confused, then she gets angry.

Another Christmas dinner game played by my aunt, my little cousin and i, is to get a word, or phrase into the conversation that perhaps should be there - without other people noticing.
Last year, i seem to remember it was "tramp's knob". and i won. it went a bit like this:

grandad: "Mmm, these little sausages are nice, what are they called?"

me: "tramp's knobs?"

grandad: "what?"

*old people look confused*

me: "oh, um... chipolatas?"

grandad: "oh yes, that's right"

*aunt and cousin sit with MOUTHS HANGING OPEN, in surprise and admiration*

BUT. The best thing at Christmas is my mother's absolute favourite thing ever. The Knitivity (yes. the KNITivity)

So often being shouted in my house:

"STEPHANIE, DID YOU KNOCK THE DONKEY OVER?"

or,

"STEPHANIE, WHY ARE THE WISE MEN DOING HANDSTANDS?!"

or (my favourite)

"STEPHANIE, WHERE IS THE BABY JESUS?!!"

ahahahahaha. hahaa. ha.

ha.

Experiment

Last night, as i sat, thinking about how hungry i was and making yet another hopeless attempt to tidy my desk, i found A Candy Cane! I bought this candy cane from a Victorian town i went to in Ironbridge.

That was when i thought this "What are Candy Canes actually made from?". As you may know, no thought can go through my head without being put directly onto twitter, (honestly, i'm thinking about inventing some sort of hat that just automatically tweets every thought i have, it would save A LOT of time).

Here are the answers i got from twitter:

Candy.
Sugar.
The same sort of stuff as boiled sweets.
Sugar
Flavourings
Sugar
Colourings
MORE SUGAR.

My next thought was "hmm... i wonder what would happen if i ate a whole Candy Cane before going to bed.".

I'm sure lots of people have thought this before. I'm not too sure how many of those people have actually gone ahead and done it.

I did.

And i did it IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE. I did it so you don't have to. I did it because i am silly.

Here is some background info, previously that day i had eaten, a slice of toast, a mince pie, a jelly snake.

Here is what happened:

I went a bit hyper.

I listened to Snow Patrol (i know, odd)

I didn't sleep for quite a while.

I drew a picture of a Bunsen Burner.

IT TURNED MY SPIT PINK. There is proof of this - the fact that i dribble when i'm asleep and this morning, my pillow and my teddy's head are slightly pink. That was a bit weird.

So, although i wouldn't recommend it, eating a Candy Cane before you go to sleep doesn't do anything too exciting.

That is all.

Blue Peter (part 1)

Sometimes i have a random stroke of genius. Yesterday, i had one... i have decided to share it with you because i think it is EXCELLENT!

Also, i may have mentioned this before but my main ambition in life is to become a Blue Peter presenter. have you got a problem with that?!

Ok. So, a simple and cheap and really pretty christmas present for somebody that you don't really like but have to buy a present for anyway.

1) Take an small, empty nutella jar. (Wash it so that there's no nutella left in it and take the lable off)

2) Use POWER PRITT - it's like pritt stick but better, and cover the glass in it (or do something more artistic like spots of stripes or something)

3) Next (this is the messy bit) pour lots and lots of glitter onto the table and roll the glue-y glass in it.

4) Take a tea-light candle and put it in the glass.

5) Wrap it up, give it to whoever you made it for.

6) RUN AWAY!

Guardian Angel

Next week is going to be good.

How do I know?

Because Carol has been praying for me.

Carol is a man. A man who my dad occasionally works for.
He lives in a massive house in Greenwich, in fact, he hasn't left that house for 20 years.
He is 70ish and walks about in just his pants.
He sets fire to things.
He writes messages about the Apocalypse on the walls of his house.
He once locked my uncle in a burnt out bathroom. My uncle had to climb out of the window.
There is a dead fox in his back garden, he likes to watch it decaying.
For some unknown reason, he likes me.

So he's been praying for me... I don't know why and to be honest, I'm a little freaked out.

But I'm pretty sure that having a poor mental old man praying for you can only be a good thing... right?

A Little Bit Christmassy,,,

My old school was a horrible horrible place full of rich chavs with massive houses and expensive clothes and ponies.

(You might have guessed - i didn't like it)

However, my favourite person in the world went to that school (and still does), but she might be the 1 exception.

Every year they have a Christmas Market full of over-priced mince pies, expensive jewellery stalls and the occasional second-hand book.

And every year i go. I like laughing at the people i spent 7 years of my childhood with getting fatter and oranger and stupider. (again, Bethan isn't included in this).

Yesterday I went with Bethan.

(i apologise for yet another blog full of pictures)

We were drawn in by sparkly things. Look at how sparkly they are!!

Next we decided to decorate gingerbread Christmas trees.

This was Bethan's

And this was mine...

(i am NOT going to mention the fact that Bethan's looks like festive vomit)

Finally, we bought tickets for the bottle tombola. Look what i won!

I don't really know what it is... i might give it to someone for Christmas.

So, after an afternoon of Christmasness, we were feeling very christmassy indeed.
We then skipped (yes - skipped) into Bromley. It was quite a long way, and it was cold and Bethan was wearing silly shoes, so when we arrived it took us a while to recover and make sure that our lungs weren't going to explode.

We then looked at the pretty Christmas lights. Ahhh - pretty!

Then spent the evening watching Love Actually and eating ice cream.

Happy :-)

Egg

I have decided that i'm not going to be an engineer.

To be honest, i decided this years and years ago - i didn't really need to spend two days this week at the Bromley Education Development Centre doing engineering workshops and being talked at by engineers to know this. But whatever - i missed two days of school!

So, we go to this place and sit in a room... we sit, and sit, and sit. The person's car who is supposed to be talking to us, has broken down. I might have been the only person who found this funny, because the type that like engineering don't have a sense of humour. at all. ever.

You might be wondering why i was there when only 10 people from my year went, the other nine being freaks who do extra studying at lunchtime, who go to a maths club at the weekend and who ALWAYS seem to have a bad foot when it comes to PE lessons, oh and my friend Erica (but she was just there for moral support and moaned constantly - because that's what she does).

Well, i will tell you - i didn't want to go!!!! really, honestly i didn't, i am pathetic at engineering (or so i thought...) and i have got consistent 'C's and 'D's in my DT projects since year 7. The thing is, our head of year is a very very nice teacher called Miss Benson who, for some very odd reason seems to volunteer me for everything.

Anyway, where was i? oh yes, sitting in this room. Then after about an hour, this lady comes in. She is wearing what can only be described as a small dead dog, draped around her neck and she seemed genuinely cross with us for being there. After shouting at us about fire escapes for a bit, she gave us sheets of paper with tasks on and left us to get on with it.

Now, i'm going to tell the truth here - i had a lot of fun from here onwards. Our first task was to design an airbag for a car using sandwich bags, elastic bands and paper.

It didn't work but it LOOKED like it would work... and that's what people care about... right? i mean, the airbags in your car, do you KNOW that they work? They look like they would work, so you trust them, you'll probably never use them and until you actually have to, you'll go along perfectly happily putting your life into the hands of something that LOOKS like it would work.

I explained my theory to one of the proper engineer people there. He didn't get it. He just kept asking

"But what about after they've crashed and the airbag didn't work - they'll sue you". My answer was simple:

"No they won't - they'll be dead."

He told me that maybe engineering wasn't the right career choice for me. Then walked away.

Our second task was to create a little house for an egg. Not just any house - one that would protect it when it was dropped from 10 feet. To make this we had, elastic bands, those little bits of polystyrene you get in boxes, 1 piece of card, some newspaper and glue.
This is where the humourless geeks proved themselves to be rubbish at being geeks. They sat, staring blankly at eachother, occasionally saying things like "shall we make a box?".

This was when my first stroke of genius came to me.

Triangles.

Right?

So if i made a triangular based pyramid and put the egg in them padded the corners with newspaper, the egg would be held securely. Then, when we dropped it, if we could get it to land on the tip of the pyramid - the force will go through, the point, up the sides and barely touch the egg at all!

After making this, i stared at the left over material and began thinking about those multi-layered composite material thingies - you know, the ones that really fast cars are made out of?

So i stuck all of these leftover bit together to make like a little puffer-coat for the pyramid.

This involved using a hot glue gun. which made me happy.

Do you know how bad burning polystyrene smells?

Anyway, so we dropped it from 4ft, then 6, then 8 then 10 and the egg survived all of them!! This meant that we won!!!

We Won!

WE WON!!!

apparently it wasn't a competition, but still... WE WON!!

So, now you are asking , why doesn't she want to be an engineer, she's obviously BRILLIANT?

Well, did you know that only 5% of all of the engineers in the world are women?

Did you know that only 15% of all the engineering students in the world are female?

AND, if the amount of female engineers keeps increasing at the rate that it is at the moment, it would take 290 years for the amount of female and male engineers to be equal?

That's not why i don't want to be one though...

I just think it would be really really boring.

Ironbridge...

"Emma, you smell."

"Oh. What do i smell of?"

"Sort of... red bull and mud and old people."

"That's a good thing - right?"

"No, definitely a bad thing - you smell like you haven't showered for three days."

"Ah! That'll be because i haven't showered for three days".

I think this conversation i had with my friend Emma earlier today sums up our trip to Ironbridge quite well.

Here's some other words that i collected in my head and pictures that i collected in my camera whilst i was on a school trip over the last couple of days:

This is our room - it was very big. but also very cold, and rather messy. Notice Nancy (on the right) eating a lot of biscuits.

"I love these biscuits! can i have one? my mum never buys them for me because i eat them all at once, but i really like them and she never buys them so i have to eat them all at once..."

"It's a vicious circle really?"

"Yes. A vicious biscuit circle full of vicious biscuits."

We discovered that it isn't possible to escape. (Nancy is wearing my shower-hat, Emma is wearing my underwear)

This is THE IRON BRIDGE. It's interesting. But not interesting enough to spend 2 hours looking at it.

More biscuit eating.



We went to a victorian village. This is my favourite poster, others prefered this one...



But i'm not that immature...



Inside a furnace - it was muddier than you'd expect it to be.



This is me and Arbraham Darby - he invented cast iron. His eyes scared me.

WH Smiths dancing. With coffee.

Just before i leave you in peace - who can beat my Friday night? I played Scrabble with 4 of my friends, 4 of my teachers and a man called Mr Khaleed (who doesn't speak english) whilst Mr Hunt (an IT teacher) played the guitar. Mr Khaleed won.

Grrrr.

Do you know what's annoying me right now?

This woman who is getting all cross about the prime minister spelling her son's name wrong.

I spell things wrongly all the time - i don't do it specifically to be offensive, i don't even think it is particularly offensive, is it?

Surely she should be grateful that he wrote her a letter anyway?

Maybe he's just not very good with his spellings?
Maybe the person who told him the person's name had really bad handwriting?
Maybe he was writing it with a Scottish accent?

Has anyone considered these things? NO.

I just think that it's annoying, she would probably have never had mentioned it if it weren't for the fact she knew that newspapers would pay her for it.

My Enlgish teacher last year spelt "Stephanie" four different ways on my school report! i didn't think she did it to be offensive to me.

My piano teacher has called me "Charlotte" for the last year, i don't find it rude, i barely even mention it anymore.

A boy called David The Knob called me "Sarah" for the whole week i was Scuba diving with him... then again, i did call him David The Knob...

*deep breath*. oh well, just so long as it's not still in the news tomorrow...

The Buddhapadipa Temple

This is about buddhism.

Sort of.

Recently, i've been writing about buddhist monks for an RS project. But, before this, we went on a school trip to the Buddhapadipa Temple in Wimbledon.

As a general rule, i like school trips. Whatever they are, they have to be better than actual school.

This trip was... interesting.

To be honest, it was ages ago... i can't remember that much about it, except that i fell over and a buddhist monk saw my knickers, then laughed.

But as i was looking for pictures to stick in my project, i found these. I thought you might like to see them.

This is the temple. It's pretty.



This is a pond. It's also pretty.




Like very small children, we were fascinated by the fact we could see our reflections in the pond.



This is a parrot.

This is Jesus. I'm not sure what he was doing there.



These are my friends, racing up some steps



Here they are again, once they reached the top of the steps.

So there you go. Another pointless blog.

Sabotage. Yes, Sabotage.

I am angry.

Really really angry.

I have probably mentioned before that i HATE my DT teacher. She is called Mrs Bowden and i hate her.

It's ok though, she hates me too. Really hates me!! i don't see why, i have never done anything to offend her...

Ok... there was that 1 time in year 7...

But that was AGES ago, she should have forgiven me by now.

Anyway, at the moment we are baking bread. We make the dough one lesson, freeze it, she takes it out of the freezer before the next lesson, we then leave it to defrost, let it prove, then bake it. simple.

(this is the bit that made me angry)

I used exactly the same recipe as everyone else, made exactly the same amount, put it in the same part of the freezer at exactly the same time as everyone else, but mine was the only one that wasn't defrosted.

Then, she wouldn't let me bake it for more than 5 minutes. It was completely horrible. It was all hard on the outside and all uncooked on the inside.

There can only be ONE explanation.

She sabotaged it. She took it out of the freezer later than she took everyone else's out.

why did she do this?

Because she is horrible and she's so pathetic that she feels the need to be mean to a girl who is probably several hundred years younger than her just because she has no real-life power.

WELL, I WILL GET MY REVENGE.

In the meantime, i have subtly let her know how i feel about her in my evaluation of the bread:



ok. rant over.

My new slightly worrying obsession

I've decided that i want a guinea pig. maybe two.

This thought only popped into my head today but i really REALLY want one.

Somebody on twitter posted a link to a silly guinea pig dance thing on youtube earlier. I didn't watch it and i didn't think about it again until about half an hour ago. Half an hour ago, i went to youtube again and all of the 8 "Recommended For You" videos were guinea pig related, so i watched one, then another... and another...

I've never really thought about guinea pigs before, never realised how great they are! They look just like really big hamsters! like super-cute rabbits! like tiny little puppies.

I have now decided that a guinea pig would make my life a lot better. I'm not sure why, i just think it would.

Ok, not the best argument - "i just think it would", but watch these videos THEN tell me that a guinea pig isn't EXACTLY what i need.







do you understand now?

Can You Beat My Day?

So. I haven't written a blog for ages. This is because everything has been rubbish. But now it's getting less rubbish, my day today was one of those good days, not an amazing one. Not a day that i will just remember forever just quite an enjoyable one. Except for the bad bits, they weren't enjoyable. They were bad.

Here is what happened to me today, not everything that happened to me today, that would be a very boring blog, just some of the stuff:

1. I discovered that i know a shocking (and slightly worrying) amount about The tropic of cancer and the tropic of Capricorn. I don't remember learning any of this stuff, i think it was just pre-programmed into my brain. I think it might be a sign.
2. I drew a diagram showing the tropic of cancer and the tropic of Capricorn with the sun and the moon and some other stuff. My friends decided that it was so good, our teacher should pin it on the wall, they then nagged him until he did.
3. I argued with my IT teacher about my grade on a piece of coursework, she then put it DOWN a grade because i was "arrogant and argumentative".
4. I wrote an essay that was "genuinely impressive". if you don't know my English teacher then you won't appreciate how big that compliment is.
5. I got my hand stuck in a grand piano and had to be rescued by Dr Parsons. He laughed at me. It was VERY FUNNY but it hurt quite a lot.
6. I fell over in assembly. Not just IN assembly but standing at the front, collecting some trophy thing. Again, people laughed.
7. I was Macbeth. Not the whole play, just the character.
8. I cut my hand in chemistry. Mr Mathews put not 1, not two but THREE plasters on it!
9. A really old lady swore at me.
10. My piano teacher did an impression of what an elephant would look like if it sneezed.
11. I ate a slice of pizza upside down.
12. I discovered a new insult - called my father it and he was so impressed by it that he forgot to be cross with me.

Why I Shoudn't Be Allowed To Write When I'm In This Sort Of Mood...

This is what my calendar said today:

Firstly, it said that today in 1898 The American composer George Gershwin was born.

So, Happy Birthday George! Hope you had a nice day, with presents and stuff. and maybe a birthday cake shaped like a musical note or something?

Hang on, if you were born in 1898, you're probably dead...

Oh yes, it would seem that you died in 1937.

Sorry about that.

What was i saying? oh yes, calendar.

Here, this is one of the best things it has said in a while:

"You may rely on people with whom children and dogs make friends."

I have heard a lot of people (although mostly Geoff Lloyd) say that children hate them because they can see their inner-evil.

Children seem to like me most of the time. Its because i smile at them and i smell like playdough + dust and i fall over more often than they do.

Dogs don't like me though... or is it that i don't like dogs? i'm not sure.

I'm no good at judging whether people are nice or evil, i just assume that they are nice until they prove themselves to be otherwise, and even then i'll give them a second chance, unless they do a murder or something... even then i might give them a second chance... maybe not. I think it would depend on who they murdered. Maybe that's why people think i'm naive?

Maybe i should carry a small child around with me at all times, then they can tell me who is good and who is evil. That would help avoid horrible situations. Then agian, this child couldn't be too small... old enough to be able to explain to me effectivly who is good and who is evil, but then again, the child couldn't be too big either, i wouldn't be able to take them everywhere with me... ok. i need a medium sized child. i wonder where you'd get one of those from?



Do you think i'm weird now because i said that i didn't like dogs? Its not that i don't actually like them, i'm just a bit scared of them... well, not scared of them really, just scared that they'll hate me and try to eat my face. There used to be this dog that lived down the road, it was called Pepper, it seemed alright, but then one day we were playing with it and it just jumped up and bit my next-door neighbour's nose. It was all broken and bleeding (the nose, not the dog).

This blog is rubbish.

This is usually the part where i read it and take out off of the stuff that i've typed without thinking about but if i did that with this blog, there wouldn't be any blog left... maybe just these words:

inner-evil, otherwise, dust, bleeding.

I thought about those words quite a lot. Not because i particulary like those words, just because i had to think for a little bit to make sure that those were the words that i wanted to use.

Also, i'm really rather tired.

I CAN'T DO AEROBICS

I challenge you to find anyone less co-ordinated and more accident prone than me...

I can play hockey... and tennis and rounders and rugby... i can do athletics and gymnastics and to a certain extent, dance.

So PLEASE don't make me do aerobics!

I just can't do it! my arms and my legs can't do different things at the same time. I don't work like that!

By the time i've worked out how to do one stupid movement, everyone else has moved onto the next one.

The music doesn't help, it's fast and horrible, usually made by people who know more about aerobics that they do music - it makes me want to cut my own ears off.

I ALWAYS end up going the wrong way, people start tutting and i get hit in the face.

Then i'll fall over, i'll land head first on a pile of gym mats and start giggling so much that somebody has to drag me out.

All this time, my PE teacher is dancing about at the front of the room wearing a fluorescent green t-shirt that makes your eyes hurt and flapping her arms about so much that she looks like she's about to take off.

After an hour of this torture (yes, 1 whole hour!). Everyone else will go off to get changed and said PE teacher says "Stephanie, you looked like you were struggling a bit this lesson"

STRUGGLING A BIT???!!!!!!

A Blogish Sort Of Hello.

Look! This is a blog.

I've neglected my blog recently, it's not that i haven't had lots of blog-ish things in my head i just haven't had time to write them and even when i have had time, i haven't wanted to write anything, as it would be purely miserableness and horrible for anyone to read.

So. I don't have much to say now. Nor do i have much time. I just wanted to say HELLO. Not my twitter sort of HELLO but a blog sort of HELLO.

I had a really nice weekend though. i would write about it... if i could be bothered. I can't. Instead, here are some pictures:

Emily and i... just sort of smiling (bear with me, they will get better)

Emily's 'E'. My 'S'. (because we are cool)

Possibly the strangest pose you will ever see...
(that's the sea in the background)

Not too sure what's happenig here...

The view from the beach hut (my uncle isn't a perminent feature)

Being told the truth in The Booth of Truth. It cost me 40p but now i know the truth... and i'm not allowed to tell you.

So that's all really...

A Day Sandwiched Between 2 Slices of Toast

Yesterday, i went to see my old people. I love my old people, they are lovely and mental, but in that wonderful old persony way.

I had a really nice day, it was lovely all round, that sort of excellent day where i'm still smiling about it today.

So, here is my recipe for an perfect day out:

Go on an adventure. Even if it's a little adventure, make sure it's something that you wouldn't normally do, something that makes you a bit nervous but also something that you want to tell people about afterwards.

Play a game. Even if it's a silly game, you should play it. I played two games yesterday, I Spy and Chicken.

Skip all the way down a hill, through a village, across a field and down to the sea, holding hands with your dad and your aunt.

Try something new, and discover that you like it. Yesterday i had chips with mint sauce for my lunch. it was yummy!

Teach someone something new. I taught Jordan how to swim underwater and how to dive. it was cold but fun.

Do something stupid, that makes everyone else laugh. It was sunny for about 10 minutes yesterday afternoon. We decided to go swimming in the sea. I went to the beach in my swimming costume and my shorts. We swam for nearly an hour and didn't notice when it started to rain. Then we got out, i had to run across a field and up a hill wearing just my shorts and bikini top. I screamed all the way. Everyone else found it very funny.

Eat homemade chocolate cake. That's quite self explanatory really.

Make a new friend. I made friends with the loveliest ginger cat you could ever met. He was called Henry and he was enormous, he came up to my knees! i thought he was a dog at first... i wanted to take him home with me.

Get lost. Days are more memorable if you get lost. We got lost on the way home, we somehow ended up in Essex!

Pretend to be really posh. My father started this; we walked past some tennis courts and he said, "Oh damn it! Nobody told us there were courts, we could have brought our rackets!" we then continued to have a "posh" conversation, we got some funny looks (especially as my father decided that you have to shout to be posh) but it was fun!

Get followed around by a very ugly looking boy, who will finally stumble up to you, and ask if you want to "go out with him". Say yes so as to not hurt his feelings, then run away and hide.

Make a stranger's day a little bit nicer. Do this however you like - i hugged someone. She was the saddest looking woman you have ever seen. she was sitting on a bench, crying and everything. I walked up to her and said "You look sad, would you like a hug?" she didn't say anything but i hugged her anyway. I hope that made her a little bit less sad.

Finish the day with a cup of tea, cheese on toast and a conversation with your favourite twitter people.

School and Other Horrors.

"Fear is like a darkroom where little doubts get developed"

(my calendar said that today, i thought it was appropriate)

I feel horrible. Sort of empty, like there's a big hole inside me. Have you read New Moon? When Edward leaves and Bella feels like there's "an empty hole in her chest"? Well that's how i feel. Sort of. Only, i haven't been left by the love of my life, i haven't been left by anyone. It's just a nasty feeling of nothingness. I think it might be fear, fear that the next five years will be as utterly shit as today was, or maybe it's dread... dreading telling my parents that I'm already in quite a bit of trouble at school even though it's only the first day back, or it might be sadness and anger about someone stealing my coloured pens. I really love those coloured pens.

So...

There are 2 new girls in my class. I only found this out a few days ago. However, it didn't take me long to formulate my evil plan:

I was going to be very very nice to them. I was going to talk to them and make sure they don't get lost and try really really hard to remember their names, then, next week, i was going to ask them if they would please please be my friends. I thought that was a good plan. I felt sure it would work.

But, this morning, i went to say hello, and to put my evil plan into action.

I said "Hello" and they both ignored me. So i said "Hello" again. And they still didn't reply. I spent our most of the art lesson this morning, staring at them, trying to work out why they'd taken against me straight away. Believe it or not, i am quite nice, so at lunch i decided to give them a second chance and go and talk to them again. I said "Hello". They still ignored me.

I was genuinely upset, i went to Emma, who is always nice to me (if a little patronising) and asked why they were talking to everyone else but me.

She found out for me.

And the answer makes a lot of sense.

Here it is...

I was ill the last week of last year.

That's when the rest of the class met the the new people.

The rest of the class had decided that it was down to them to tell the two new girls about how weird i am. In fact, some people (although they seem to have the sense not to admit to it) thought they should tell them not to talk to me because I'm a complete freak.

That's what made me cry.

And now I'm a bit scared, because i always knew that i didn't completely fit in, but now i know what these people actually think of me, and i don't want to have to spend the next five years with them.

I mentioned we had art this morning. We were making little clay people, a bit like Antony Gormley's Field, only ours had to reflect something to do with ourselves. Mine was good. I hardly ever think anything i do is good, but i promise you, this was the best bit of art i have ever done. My little person was sitting on the floor, hiding behind their hands, wearing a hoodie and jeans. Everyone said it was good. Everyone except the art teacher, who looked at it and said

"Oh, it's a bit depressing isn't it!" So, i said,

"Yes, it is." Then she replied,

"Couldn't you make it a bit happier." I said "No." Then i squished it all up. I didn't want to ruin it. But i did. Because i am very very stupid.

So that's the end of this blog. I'm going to sit over there and be a bit sad. Thanks for reading it. Sorry it wasn't happy.

(Oh, i have some advice for you - don't call your form tutor a "fucking homophobic idiot" on the first day of school.)

The Magical Cheering-Up Power of Kittens

Ok, well this is a short blog. A very short blog. Possibly even shorter than yesterday's. It's a too-long-for-a-tweet, too-short-for-an-actual-blog blog.

So, who is feeling sad/grumpy/angry thismorning? Yes, i was too. It's generally quite a miserable day.

Anyway, i have something that might cheer you up a little bit.

I bring you...

...

...

...

Kitten In A Cot.



Awwww! Cute!

Oasis 'n' Stuff

If you've seen the news, you'll know that Noel Gallagher has left Oasis.

Oh Well.

I don't particularly like Oasis. I don't particularly dislike them. That is all i can say about them.

I am definitely not a crazy fan...

However, i have a hamster called Noel. Who used to have a brother called Liam (who was eaten, earlier this year, by one of my mother's evil cats)

I bet you thought i named them after the Gallagher brothers, didn't you?

Well, you're wrong.

Nope, little Noel is named after Noel Fielding - who is excellent. And VERY short! did you know that? - he's really really tiny! Anyhoo, Liam (who was a bit horrible) was named after Liam Gallagher. No, not THAT Liam Gallagher, Liam Gallagher from Shameless (that was my favourite TV program at the time).

The whole Gallagher brother thing was an (almost) unintentional mistake. Honest!

Arguments and Other Sad Things.

Grown-ups are strange creatures.

I seriously don't understand them but from what i have seen over these past 13 years, i have learnt this:

1) Grown-ups really like being grumpy.

2) Because they are grown-ups, they must always be right. even when they are very very wrong, they are still right.

3) Because they are always right, they see no reason to listen to anyone else.

4) Grown-ups love arguing.

I hate arguing. I just don't see the point. I never argue, i simply let the other person shout at me for a bit and I don't mind much because usually they have a good reason to be shouting, or, if they haven't got a good reason, at least i know that they're wrong. There is absolutely no point in telling them my point of view because they are so angry that they're not going to listen.

Does that make sense?

But what i really hate is other people arguing. It's sad because when you're not involved, you can see how silly it is. You can see that people are getting upset and upsetting each other over something that so silly that they've probably forgotten what they're actually arguing about.

Still making sense? Do stop me if I'm not.

And what i really really hate is my parents arguing. Especially as i know they've been arguing but they refuse to admit it.

*huff*

I'm the teenager. I'm supposed to be the one screaming and slamming doors.

I told them to stop arguing. Both of them looked at me and said,

"It's not that simple"

I think it is that simple.

I think if they both just say sorry, everything will be fine.

This morning, to stop me seeing that they were arguing, they went to the end of the garden and shouted at each other.

I watched from the window.

They really are silly.

Anyway,

Did you know that today in 1883 was the volcanic eruption of Indonesia's Mount Krakatoa?

That's sad... 36,417 people died.

Disney and Other Nonsense.

I've been singing this constantly for the last 3 days:

The wonderful thing about tiggers
Is tiggers are wonderful things!
Their tops are made out of rubber
Their bottoms are made out of springs!
They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
But the most wonderful thing about tiggers is
I'm the only one
Tiggers are cuddly fellas
Tiggers are awfully sweet
Ev'ryone el-us is jealous
That's why I repeat... and repeat

The wonderful thing about tiggers
Is tiggers are marvelous chaps!
They're loaded with vim and vigor
They love to leap in your laps!
They're jumpy, bumpy, clumpy, thumpy
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
But the most wonderful thing about tiggers is
I'm the only one
I-I-I'm , the only O-n-n-eee!

See. Annoying isn't it.

I was looking for it on youtube, i was going to put it in a blog so you could all have it stuck in your heads and you could share my pain...

however.

I came accross this...



i'm sure it's at least 7x better in Swedish.

Which made me think, which other disney songs would be better in different languages?

These are my favourites:

Failure

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that don't work"

More calendar wisdom.

I promise you that i have found way more than 10,000 ways that don't work for changing blog templates. Silly Blogger. It's still not how i really wanted it but it will have to do.

I made a header and everything - impressed? no? well you wouldn't be would you!

So, what do you think? don't say you liked it how it was before because i have no intention of undoing all of my hard work. 1 whole hour i spent, swearing at this computer and threatening to smash things. All for you. Yes, you.

I decided to change it a bit after i learnt that there are actually a few of you who read this... well, at least more than 4. *Hello*.

And for reading my blog, i will reward you with VERY INTERESTING FACTS:

Did you know that today in 1949, English author Martin Amis was born?

Bet you didn't know that!

Actually...

Do you know who he is?

I don't.

Normally i'd google him but today is one of those days that google changes to have a silly picture instead of the "Google" bit and that really freaks me out.

Sooo... opinions on new blog layout and information about Martin Amis, please.

What A Lovely Strange Man!

When i was very very young, i was taught never to speak to strange men. I think most people were, in fact i remember when i was 10, we had "The Life Bus" come to our school.

It was basically a smelly little caravan with a very miserable woman in. We were made to sit in this caravan and were talked at about perverts and people who would try to give us drugs and men with beards. Well, she tried to talk at us about them but as i went to a school full of horrible little girls who seriously believed they were better than everyone else because their parents were rich, i think she only spoke for about 10 minutes, then ran away crying.

Anyway, i had never spoken to strange men and had been suspicious of everyone with a beard, until about February. Now, on Twitter, i speak to strange men on a daily basis, i would even say that i am friends with some strange men. And from twitter, i have learnt that it's actually a very small percentage of the world that want to kill you/give you drugs/whatever else.

Since then, i have spoken to lots of strange people in real-life too and am no longer terrified and suspicious of everyone i see walking down the street.

Even so, i couldn't help but be a little worried when a strange man, wearing a hooded top (and he had a beard) started talking to me, as i was standing in an alley-way, waiting for my aunt on Wednesday.

Especially as he had crept up behind me (which made me jump) and the first thing he said to me was:

"Your hair looks very pretty".

CREEEEEPY!

To be fair, it was a very warm afternoon (that's why i was standing in the alley-way - to get away from the sun), i had just run from Greenwich DLR station to my aunt's office and my hair had escaped from the plait i had attempted to put it in and was sticking up at every angle possible, so i was looking in a mirror, trying to flatten it down.

I was seriously considering running away, or screaming but he then handed me a leaflet and told me his name was Reg and we continued to have a lovely conversation.

My Aunt works for a record company, turns out this man was handing out leaflets for some man that was doing some recording there. So, as i waited for my aunt, i went and peered through the window of a recording studio and watched this man do some recording:

www.myspace.com/termzymusic

To be honest, the music is rather shit. But i thought I'd write about it anyway...

(if anyone wants to talk to truly lovely strange man - and i think he has a beard... - could i please recommend Damien/damohopo)

A Rant

i haven't written a blog for ages. Well, it feels like ages! Today's blog is a rant. A VERY ANGRY RANT!! and it's directed at Tesco.

On Saturday, i went to Tesco - the one in Bromley and i bought something from their frozen vegetarian range called "bean pie". I thought

"Well, i like beans and i like pie."

So last night, i ate it.

I had once mouthful of the nice potato topping (even though i don't ussually like mashed potato, this was very yummy, sort of orange coloured). Then, as i went to eat a bit more, i saw something that made me feel sick and nearly made me throw my plate across the room.

The Devil's Food.

Evil in Vegetable Form.

Courgette.

Yuck Yuck Yuck Yuck Yuck!!!

I do not remember the packaging saying "courgette infested" anywhere! well, it didn't say it in big writing, and does anyone honestly read the small writing?

Then, because i was angry and sad that this nice looking food was now inedible, i counted up all of the beans and all of the pieces of courgette.

The ratio of beans to courgette was 1:5. THAT IS DISGUSTING!!

Why didn't they call it "courgette pie". then i wouldn't have wasted time and money buying and cooking it!

Why didn't they call it "Devil's Food Pie"

Or simply "Pie Of All EVIL"

As you can see, I'm still rather cross. In fact, i feel that a letter of complaint should be written. Meh, maybe later...

Let The Right One In

Last night, i watched a film. I watched Let The Right One In, as you will know from my blog about Harry Potter, i am not good at writing about films. So i will tell you exactly what i thought:

It was really good. It was a lot less confusing than the book but it was sad and lovely and really disgusting all at the same time. I liked it a lot.

My mother said it was weird and horrible and disturbing but she liked the fact she was watching a film that wasn't in English because it made her feel "arty" (i know, she is VERY strange).

My father did as he always does through every film and was asking questions every 10 seconds:

"Is she a vampire?"

"Is he really dead?"

"What's that in the bag?"

"She is a vampire, isn't she?"

"Who's that boy, the dead one?"

"She's going to eat him, isn't she?"

"Why isn't she wearing a hat?"

...And my absolute favourite question he has ever asked...

"Is this based on a true story?"

I would have watched it on my own but my computer didn't want to play the DVD. So i watched it downstairs whilst my parents were eating dinner. They were eating pizza.

I may have commented that a man who has burnt half his face off with acid looks a bit like a pizza. I know, I am sick. Sorry.


It doesn't take a lot to give me nightmares so inevitably, i had terrible terrible dreams last night. The only thing is, instead of dreaming about vampires and blood and falling from windows on the 7th floor, i dreamt that i lived in a flat with far too many cats and they were all smelly and vicious and inbred. And i think that scared me more than a dream about the un-dead would have. Mostly because, with my mad-cat-lady mother, it's not actually that unlikely.