Call All You Want But There's No One Home

This year, i have asked for an iPhone for my birthday. This shouldn't come as a surprise to you, i have been asking for an iPhone every birthday for the last 3 years, only difference is, this year there's actually a chance i may get one.

Firstly, because i don't have a phone that works at the moment. I have a phone but it sort of... melted. I left it in the car on a really sunny day in April or May and yeah... not only is the plastic casing slightly deformed, text messages come through whenever they feel like it and even when they do, they don't often open. You have to hit it hard against a wall if you want the camera to work and it sometimes gets annoyed and just turns itself off.

Secondly because this year i used my greatest tactic to get this phone:

It started in August when my mother asked me what i wanted for my birthday, it went a bit like this:

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"Umm.... a pony?"

"Don't be silly, where would you keep a pony?"

"in the shed?"

"Think of something else, something sensible."

"A puppy?"

"No, we have four cats"

"A kitten?"

"I just said, we already have FOUR cats."

"ferret?"

"No."

"Chickens?"

"NO!"

"Geese?"

"NO! NO LIVESTOCK!! There MUST be something else you want!?"

*sigh* "i don't know... maybe... an iPhone?"

"FINE." *leaves room*

I'm not saying something as silly and as materialistic as an iPhone would make my life better, but you know... it definitely will make my life better.

It's My Birthday And I'll Be A Miserable Bitch If I Want To

People keep reminding me that it's nearly my birthday, every time they do this, i cry a little bit inside.

I realised that i didn't enjoy birthdays at all on my 10th birthday. It wasn't great, it really wasn't great, i'm not about to list all the events that made it bad but I remember sitting on the floor with my then 7 year old cousin crying because i wasn't opening my present fast enough, thinking "the sooner this is over, the better." The next 4 Birthdays have all ended in tears.

My friends and family all make a huge effort to make it nice, and i do appreciate it. But the most important word in that statement is definitely "effort". It takes so much effort; when i'm older i don't want my birthday to be acknowledged at all, there's so much pressure on you to have fun, there's this horrible stuffy feeling of fake happiness coming from everyone and it makes me want to smash things. But smashing things is not allowed, because "everyone's made so much EFFORT for you."

I don't want it.

The other night, as i was being told by my father that i need to be "more cooperative - your mother's very stressed about your birthday" (she thinks SHE'S stressed?!) i found myself blurting out, "can we not? could we just pretend it isn't happening? couldn't you just leave my birthday present at the end of my bed in the night then can we pretend like it's a normal day?"

"no, this means a lot to your mother"

I've been saying for the last 2 weeks that i don't want a birthday cake, it's a waste of cake - other than my parents i don't really have anyone to share it with. However, this isn't allowed either. I don't like chocolate cake (well, i do but it's complicated), i don't like butter-icing or icing that's made from icing sugar and i don't like cake that has to be eaten with a fork. After much pestering i replied that i'd like a cake with white icing and butterflies on (it was the only reasonably priced one i would have eaten) But Waitrose can't make it by my birthday. So now it looks like i'm going to have to make my own cake... a cake that i don't even want... it's not quite the same.

Birthday parties - i hate them. I'm being pressured from every direction as to what i will "do" for my birthday. I don't want to "do" anything. But i was reminded again, this isn't about me, it's about everyone else - something has to be "done". This particular issue has not yet been resolved, i'm hoping people will forget about it.

I sound ungrateful, i know. I don't mean to, but it's like walking off the edge of a cliff, when it has resulted in tears every time someone attempts it, surely a sensible person would say "you know what, lets not try this again."

I Have Fingerprints On My Glasses.

I've been too busy to write a proper blog, instead here's something else i wrote:

Desk

It was my idea to paint my desk white. With retrospect, it probably wasn’t a great idea. I love my desk, not only is an object of great beauty and practicality (my father built it for me several years ago to fit in perfectly with my room and my life), it is my space, the central point of my being. If i am at home, i am sitting at my desk, writing, drawing, listening to music or simply thinking. This constant use has, inevitably, caused it to show it’s age. Beneath the general clutter of books, folders, stationery, tea-cups and make up, the white wood is a little grubbier than ever before. scratches, coloured pencil marks, ink spills and cat paw prints tarnish the once beautiful pure white surface.  Each nail varnish splash and mascara mark hold memories of the parties i spent hours getting ready for, each pencil sharpening and eraser rubbing is the memory of a piece of artwork created and every dent a bitter reminder of my temper being lost. It’s shocking really, when i manage to keep every other corner of my life tidy, organised and streamlined that my desk should look as if it’s been raided by several blindfolded toddlers. Sometimes i attempt to tidy my desk, usually if someone is due to enter my room, i sweep the debris away like an unpleasant secret, it doesn’t last for long though, within minutes of it being clean and empty, objects begin piling up again. If something is lost, the first place you should check is my desk, the chances are it will be there, beneath a pile of papers or next to a discarded slice of carrot cake.

A Letter To Someone.

You know who you are. I'm not going to get into an argument with you over this internet like this, it's stupid and childish. But you started it.

I'm fed up, I don't know what you want from me, i don't have enough time for you? well that's new... Have you EVER come to speak to me? In fact, have you put any effort into this friendship at all?

It doesn't take a genius to work out that things have been awkward recently. But i'm bored of avoiding talking about it altogether, and it appears that you are too, although you don't have the guts to tell me to my face.

So, I have new friends now? You do too. Are you JEALOUS? of me? because i'm happy? i spend time with people i enjoy being with and who enjoy being with me. I'm not going to listen to you anymore, every friendship i've had in the past you've managed to ruin for me, claiming they were "bullying you" or that "a friend" told you they were horrible. We both knew they were lied but i guess i didn't have the confidence to stand up to you then.

Why can't you accept that i'm happy? Is it because you're NEVER happy? i worry about you, i honestly do, is there something wrong with everything you do/own? You're really lucky, i wish you'd realise that, i wish you'd realise that your life is actually quite nice.

You may have changed, but i doubt it, i've known you for long enough to realise that although you can put on a front for people, you're probably bitching about them behind their back. I've listened to you express your real feelings about people for years. Or are they your real feelings? I don't know, i can't work it out...

There's a lot of things i can't work out. Why did i apologise to you so many times? Why was i so scared of you? Why have i spent a significant amount of my life worrying about what you will say?

Do you know that there are some things, things from years ago that i actually can't bear to think about because they still upset me? Did you even realise they'd upset me at the time?

I want to be friends with you, i really do, you make me laugh and i like spending time with you but i'm not going to apologise for a thousand things i haven't done. I don't need to any more, you no longer have the power to make my life hell.

Talk to me in person... or don't talk to me at all.

x

You tell me too many things. There's too many things in here. They keep falling out of my ears.

I'm not good at staying focused. I daydream. A lot. Yesterday i was so deep in my daydreaming at the bus stop that my bus stopped, opened the doors, waited, closed the doors and had begun to drive away before i realised that i should probably have got on it.

It seems that this year, most of my teachers particularly enjoy making us sit in alphabetical order. This means in most lessons i am sitting next to the same people. Lets call them G and S (to protect their identity, also because i'm not sure how to spell S's name). G and S are very very boring, and grumpy, and have already made it very clear that they would rather not have anything to do with me. The plus side of this alphabetical order thing is that i'm sitting next to the window in almost all of my lessons. Awesome. Well, not very awesome if i actually want to pass these GCSEs.

I should never be allowed to sit next to the window if what's going on outside is a thousand times more interesting than what's going on inside. Which is pretty much always.

Here are some examples from recently-

Men standing on the school roof = more interesting than Chemistry.

Builders arguing about sand = more interesting than graphics.

Year 7s learning to play hockey on the field = more interesting than Physics.

Caretakers moving wheelie bins around = more interesting than IT.

Squirrel looking puzzled = more interested than French.

Blades of grass = more interesting than maths.

In fact, scratching my own eyeballs until they bleed = more interesting than maths.

Oh, and who put me in an accelerated maths group? I don't belong there. They won't let me leave. I asked to join another class but I "haven't given it a go yet". Has the whole world gotten together behind my back and decided to make me feel as awful and stupid as possible?

If you never play a song all the way to the end on Spotify, it never plays any adverts.

And i may have discovered a good thing about being horribly clumsy and having bad balance.

I smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler

I have written a blog before about people getting my name wrong. It's not a difficult name, Stephanie Ellen Friend, i'm sure you've all encountered those words before, maybe not in that exact order but you know what they mean.

 I understand it may be slightly confusing for some of you as my twitter name is StephanieEllen, whereas i would tell most people that my name is Stephanie Friend. The thing is, StephanieFriend as a Twitter name was already taken, and rather than having my name followed by numbers and letters and underscores (when are underscores ever used other than in internet names/email addresses?), i thought it would be simpler to just be "StephanieEllen". Ok? because a LOT of people from Twitter have asked me what my name actually is and what they should call me to my face.

I'm sorry for ranting at you but i've been thinking about my name a lot today, it started when my music teacher, who has taught me for the past 3 years, called me Jessica.

It was as we were waiting outside the hall to go into assembly, I was complaining to anyone who'd listen about the length of my skirt (i'd been told to unroll it by my head of year), when he walked past and, hearing my whining, said "I think it looks perfectly respectable at that length, Jessica".

My friend replied "did you just call her Jessica?"

"erm... no." Then he walked away, going very very red.

Then my biology teacher called me Caroline. It was as he was boasting that it was only the end of the first lesson and he already knew everyone's names.

"What's my name?"

"Caroline, of course!"

"No, it isn't"

"oh... what is it?"

"Stephanie"

"Can i call you Caroline?"

"I'd rather if you didn't"

The last incident occurred in English. My English teacher, who is more than a little bit strange, was taking the register when she got to my name.

"Stephanie Ellen Friend? That's an utterly delightful name!"

"mm... thank you."

"Do you enjoy your name?"

"errr..."

"I would love to own such a poetic name, it almost glows, doesn't it?"

"well, thank you."

"It is beautiful, you should do something with that name. Don't waste it."

I would quite like to know what it is should would like me to "do" with it...? Even though it's silly, her praise for my name did please me and it would seem that she now knows who i am. Every question she asked in the class, she directed towards me (presumably because she didn't want to make herself look like an idiot by getting other people's name wrong) and she seemed genuinely delighted with my answers. I can tell that's i'm gong to enjoy her lessons this year!

Like a magpie, I live for glitter not you.

First day of school. I woke up feeling cold and unhappy, i had a pain in the back of my skull. I rolled out of bed, still wrapped in my duvet and did a few feeble sit-ups. This was pretty much as good as the day was going to get.

People keep asking me what's wrong. I actually wasn't aware that i looked so miserable but apparently i have a look on my face similar to that of a puppy who's been locked outside in the rain. Although that would make sense, for that is pretty much how i feel.

I didn't see many people this summer and i'm not sure what happened to them... but something definitely happened. When did they all get so pretty?

Everyone's tall with dyed hair and suntans. New hair cuts and make up and nicely painted nails and an explosion of confidence and arrogance. Even the strange people, the proper geeks and the complete freaks look nice, and they know it.

I stood there in registration, clinging onto my new Hello Kitty notebook for comfort, shuffling uncomfortably in my Clarks shoes with buckles (i didn't chose them - i had no say whatsoever in the matter) and wondering (hoping) if it would actually be possible to go all year without being noticed at all.

Lunchtime, conversation turned to holidays and boys and new hairstyles and how many times people got drunk during the holidays. But mostly just boys. I sat, reading my Harry Potter book, half listening to my iPod, half listening to their conversation and wondering when it was that they all left me behind.

I was staring at some new year 7s today and though it is quite funny looking at their terrified little faces, i do feel sorry for them because i remember exactly what it was like to be surrounded by new people, feeling like you have to prove yourself to them. If i'm honest, i feel exactly the same as they do, except that i know where most of the classrooms are and i'm not scared of the teachers. I told you how good the last few weeks of term were, remember? School was such a nice place to be because after spending 3 whole years with these people we all knew eachother, we were (mostly) all friends and everything fit into place.

But now it's all changed. And as i established last week, i hate change. It scares me.

Everyone seems so... grown up. At least, they think they seem grown up. I don't, i feel baffled, maybe my brain isn't used to taking so much stuff in in one day or maybe they really are very different people to what they were 6 weeks ago but i wish they'd just stop it, either that, or i wish i could feel grown-up and confident too. Because at the moment i'm simply feeling very left out.