But... Why?

National Gallery

2011-08-05T20:38:00.000+01:00

I'm tired and I need a wee but I'm staring at a painting. It is a painting from the 1500s, I think it is silly. A woman side steps towards me, she is wearing a shirt and a name tag that suggest she works for the gallery.
"Do you like it?" She says, nodding at the painting with a smug smile.
"Not really" I reply, glancing at her in my best 'leave me alone, I'm tired and need a wee' way. Her smile becomes more smug, she knows something about this painting that she desperately wants to share with me, because it will make her seem clever. I don't let her. "I think it's silly," I continue, "Jesus doesn't look like that".
She says: "hhha", it's not a laugh, but a word she uses to illustrate the fact she finds my comment amusing, "how can you know what he looked like?". I can see she's the sort of person who likes to ask questions that she thinks people can't answer, it makes her feel special.
"Because I've seen him." I say slowly and loudly, like my Grandad would if he were talking to someone from another country. I look at her face and raise my eyebrows slightly.
Still smiling, she turns and shuffles away. What a rude lady.

The National Gallery makes me sad, there's too many paintings. If it were a person, it would be waving it's arms around going "LOOK, look at my paintings, aren't they brilliant, they're worth billions and billions of pounds. LOOK AT THEM, no, don't ACTUALLY look at them, they're all the same, that's why we've put them in these rooms all on top of each other and next all to each other in rows, APPRECIATE THEM. NO, what did I say - don't LOOK at them, just know that they're worth more money than you could ever imagine, walk quickly round so that you can *say* you've seen them and feel all arty and clever, I mean, what more could you want? The boring ones are in big sparkly frames so you don't have to stop or think about them at all. JUST APPRECIATE THEM."

However, I do like the National Portrait Gallery. I don't know why, it's just much better. I like all the faces looking out of the walls at you, I like the fact you can walk into a room and see some of the most famous writers, artists, actors and politicians all together, like an incredible party, you can imagine what they'd be saying to one another and why Noel Coward would be standing next to Vanessa Bell and who would be most likely to get thrown out for fighting, who'd be the most drunk and who would be sitting in the corner looking lonely...

On the other hand, something upset me deeply. I saw a portrait of James Joyce, painted in 1935, he was... old. And ordinary looking, and a bit sad. He's one of my favourite writers ever but it never crossed my mind that he was actually a man, with a face and a comb-over and... trousers, he was just the thoughts behind the words in the books. Not a person. It makes me feel sick to think about.

Exam

2011-05-17T18:55:00.001+01:00

I had a Latin mock today, it was ridiculous. It wasn't particularly difficult, except for the questions that I had no idea how to even begin to answer.

You get a bit of a story in Latin then questions about it

Questions like -

"Part A: Why was he arrested?
Answer - Because he beat a man to death for trying to steal his cow."
Part B: Why do you think this was wrong?
Answer - erm... BECAUSE HE BEAT A MAN TO DEATH FOR TRYING TO STEAL HIS COW?!"

"Part A: What does the King call his son?
Answer - 'my son'
Part B: Why does the King call him this?"
Answer - because he is his son."

I left the exam feeling confused and misled. Not a feeling I like very much.

Yesterday I was revising History. I drew a mind map.

If this is what the inside of my mind looks like, it's no wonder I spend so much of my life feeling baffled and a bit lost.

Green

2011-05-13T20:22:00.001+01:00

Walking into an empty room, thinking of not very much at all, I suddenly announce: "I don't even like Paul Weller" So surprised by this outburst, I automatically touch my own face, to ensure that it is me speaking and not somebody else whose body I accidentally came to inhabit. It was me. I don't particularly like Paul Weller but it was truly the strangest thing to ever tumble from my mouth, and believe me, I talk some utter nonsense at times.

My friend Hayley thinks I'm weird, she doesn't say that, she says I'm "funny" or "different", but that's just because she's polite. I think she's weird too, she has an obsession with Xena: Warrior Princess, which I don't understand, but together we can do a really great impression of the Dr Who theme tune. She looks like the girl in the Lynx advert - the one where it's all rewinded and two people meet in the supermarket, then run home, discarding their clothes as they do so. I tell her this, but she refuses to believe me. She's also REALLY smart, she does everything at the speed of light then sits and draws pictures of Xena: Warrior Princess characters in her notebook, although her handwriting does look like a person sat on it, then shuffled round a bit (all slanty and squished and uneven).

A person sat on me today, they didn't shuffle around at all, they apologised, then stood up.

I have a thought for the day for you, here it is: If you participate in something no one else can be bothered with, you will win.

Why I wouldn't be a great journalist:

2011-05-07T18:27:00.000+01:00

A conversation with a friend about someone I quite like:

"...and he smells really nice, I noticed that today. I almost told him, but then I stopped myself."

"You should have told him!"

"But then he'd think I was sniffing him."

"You WERE sniffing him."

"You really don't get it do you?"

It would have been weird to say, right? I can't be sure because I always manage to get things like this wrong.

The other day during a conversation with someone I had met for the first time that day, I exclaimed "Wow! You're 44? I never would have thought that!" She looked a bit surprised, then asked me how old I had thought she was, to which I replied "um... like, 41?". She frowned, everyone else we were with laughed. I don't get it, I thought people liked to be told they look younger than they are?

Generally, I find the way other people think of things quite abnormal. Particularly things regarding the news and other current affairs.

Earlier today my father came rushing into my bedroom "Stephanie, there's 5 police cars in the road! Let's look out of your window" and my reaction was "meh, if you want". There's always people getting arrested or murdered somewhere outside, I don't see why I should look. If, however, there had been a man with an interesting hat or an dog with a handsome face, I would have looked. They're nice things to see, things that you can't read about in a newspaper everyday, yet most people don't think this is worth looking at.

I liked the Royal Wedding being in the papers because it was so beautiful and happy and exciting! I didn't believe it would ever be over - it just seemed like a constant, then it happened and we were all "WOW!" and now it's gone and we're like "hmm... ooh look, someone just got stabbed and we're all going to be killed by terrorists - AWESOME!"

I am aware of these things, but I can't help thinking it's best not to get too excited about them, just ask yourself if there's anything you can do to help, if not, move on. Bad things are always going to happen, but people making lots of money from it and obsessing over other people's misery doesn't seem right to me.

Or maybe I'm the one with the abnormal view of the world?

Shhhhhhh

2011-04-26T19:30:00.000+01:00

Somebody down the road has one of those tree mashing things. You know, it's a sort of machine that you feed a substantial lump of tree into one end then receive a squashy-lumpy-barky sort of thing from the other end. I am not too sure *why* the people down the road have said contraption, or why they think that now is the appropriate time to use it, but I do know that it is making a noise.

The noise sounds like this: " ;;;!;!:!:;;;nnngggg;;;;{{{{!!!!!!{{{{?????clunk////////nnnnggg/,,,,,,." (and repeat)

But that's okay, I'm cool with that. Probably because that is a pretty accurate description of how the whole of today has sounded. From the very first noisy little bastard bird shouting it's head off through my window at 4 o'clock this morning to the stopclickingyourpenoriwillstabyouintheeye anger in maths to the "PLEASE. CEASE. BLOWING. YOUR. NOSE" desperation on the bus coming home - today has been one long head-achey, irritable chain of Stephanie-hasn't-had-enough-sleep-ness.

My day started with an early-morning Latin class. Everything about that sentence upsets me. I then had to face an after-school Latin class. There are few worse things to sandwich a day between than 10 girls reciting verb conjugations and questions about The Death of Germanicus. More and more often, I find myself wondering what was wrong with me when I decided taking Latin GCSE, in one 6th of the recommended time, was a good idea. (Although, the word "gerundives" never fails to bring a smile to my face)

My point is, that some days you should be allowed to wear headphones constantly, and listen to something beautiful, like Elbow, or maybe Fleet Foxes.

2011-04-24T19:23:00.001+01:00

"I do realise this is a Heston Blumenthal recipe," I say, taking a pretzel out of the cupboard and biting into it, "but is that leg of lamb supposed to be on fire?"

"FUCK"

"That's a 'no', then?"

---

Today I have dressed as minnie mouse and moved slowly through the house, thoughtfully reading a play and occasionally eating biscuits. My Father, on the other hand, having been instructed to decorate the exterior of the house has, well... decorated the exterior of the house, whilst my mother has dug up the flower beds in the front garden, wearing a ridiculously oversized sun hat and her pyjamas.

At the same time, the family across the road have participated in the most competitive egg hunt I have ever witnessed. For 2 hours, I observed toddlers being cheered on, praised and berated by their overly enthusiastic parents as they raced from the tree with the bird feeder in to the front doorstep before finally lifting the newspaper on the garden table to find yet another chocolate encased in foil. At one point, I definitely saw one pensioner point her grandson in the direction of the next prize and although I considered reporting them for foul play, I decided against it. Who am I to judge?

And finally, some art, that is not only relevant to the time of year, but edible. YUM:

Farm cake. Omnomnomnom.

HAPPY EASTER!

Words and Music 2011

2011-03-26T12:30:00.001Z

I find that often, it's the things you look forward to the least that you enjoy most.

I was positively dreading the Words and Music concert at my school on Thursday evening. I'm not going to say it was the best experience of my life. But it was okay, at least, not as bad as I had expected.

Let me explain: every year my school has a Poet in Residence, some people go to workshops with them and write poems, these are then performed one evening alongside music composed and played by GCSE music students and anyone else who wants to join in.

Being a geek, i was doing both some Words and some Music. Neither of which were very good.

The evening was... long. But it gave me time to reflect on the fact I was actually quite lucky to be able to do it and in rehearsing for HOURS with my mental English teacher and my very stressed music teacher a confused-looking poet, i had actually learnt a lot.

This year, our Poet in Residence was Jay Bernard (here is her website). According to my mental English teacher she is "very very famous". I'm not sure about that. I'd never heard of her. However, that didn't detract from her awesomeness.

About 15 of us spent 5/6 hours dotted across a few weeks writing poems, looking at poems, reading poems, making a mess cutting up magazines and gluing them to bits of of paper (no, I didn't get that bit either) and at the end of it, I feel like I know so much more about writing. Not that I would ever consider being a poet, but it was fun and pretty useful all the same.

I feel really privileged to have been able to learn from someone who is so good at writing, so enthusiastic and positive and completely unpatronising. I wish more people i encounter had that sort of attitude towards young people.

A Blog? What?

2011-03-23T19:09:00.001Z

Hello there, remember me?

My name is Stephanie, I'm 15 (AND A HALF) and I live near London. I will always live near London, the idea of living in the country is very nice until you really think about it, then it's terrifying.

When I'm a grown-up, i want to be an angel. Failing that, I would like to be a writer.

I write.

But I don't often let people read it. If you were particularly interested (stalkerish), you could read some of the boring crap I've written about pressing local 'issues' on the News Shopper website. Other than that, I've been almost silent since the start of this year.

Why? Because I'm tired of that horrific sentence...

"I read your blog"

*silence*

I'm fed up with these people then staring at me, REALLY staring at me, like they're struggling to stop their eyeballs actually crawling inside my head and having a good poke around in there.

It doesn't matter if you're some random from my RS class or my Aunt or my Dad or someone I see everyday on the bus but don't really talk to (because, seriously, you're one of the dullest humans I've ever met), I will have replied to these 4 words and intrusive mental scan with a blank expression and "oh.".

Here is what "oh" means:

Well done. You typed my name into the internet (like a pervert/somebody who has far too much time on their hands), did a bit of clicking about, probably found my twitter, then this. I'm not sure what else you want me to say, it's not a secret, I'm not ashamed of it, I wrote a blog because I wanted people to read stuff, it probably isn't aimed at you but go on, read it, comment on it if you like... just don't seem so surprised that it exists. I'm positively flattered that people read what I have to say - I don't waste my time with things I find boring (that probably includes your formspring/tumblr/other places where you write about your made-up sex life and post badly photoshopped photos of you and Justin Beiber)
I know it's shocking that I have thought of things, then written them. But, you know, I do think. I know I often have a vacant, starey look on my face, maybe it's because I think too much. If you asked me a question, you would get a response, I would express my opinions the same as I would on the internet. But you don't ask me, so I don't say anything. People who know me well, will know that I don't feel the need to talk unless there is something to be said. In all likelihood, I feel a conversation with you will detract from my day rather than enhance it.
Seriously, I'm not just the slightly-posh girl who spends her lunchtimes doing homework, who will, every day without fail, hit her head on the utterly pointless shelf in the form room, who doesn't like walking down a corridor on her own in case people look at her, who enjoys sitting at bus stops.
NO!
I am a slightly-posh, geeky, clumsy, paranoid, distant-looking girl WHO ALSO WRITES A BLOG.

So there.

Happy Communist Martyrs Day

2011-02-14T17:31:00.000Z

Valentines day is rubbish.

It's a special day where people who are already happy because they have people that love them, are made to feel even happier and reminded that they are loved.

First of all, I disagree with special days that not everyone can join in with.

I also feel that the overuse of the 'heart' shape is quite vile. Please try to remember that it is representing the mushy, blood soaked squeezy thing that keeps people going and doesn't have very much to do with love at all. If you are going to use it to represent your feelings for someone else, at least have the decency to send them an actual heart, human or otherwise...

Furthermore, I think that if anyone deserves a day dedicated to making them feel happy and a bit smug, it is the people who don't feel loved by anybody every other day of the year. What sort of long term satisfaction will a person with lots of friends and a parter get from a box of over-priced chocolates and a bunch of flowers? Not much. But what will a very lonely person get from a hug and a reminder that there are people who care about them? A LOT.

Now, i'm really busy... so if someone else could organize that? Great, thanks.

In other, more exciting news - 314 days until Christmas!

12 months have gone already... where?!

2011-01-02T19:39:00.000Z

Apparently 2010 didn't live up to people's expectations. I'm sorry, but what WERE people expecting? I thought, overall, the good days of 2010 outweighed the bad days by far and I had a very nice time.

Here are some of the things that made 2010 special:

Matilda.

This lot.

Paris.

iPhone. Nom.

V Festival (The most gorgeous photo of me ever taken - mostly just wearing other people's clothes)

A terrible play with the most amazing lovely funny kind talented cast.

So last year I made a list of everything I wanted to achieve in 2010, here's the updated version:

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.~~

Well, i certainly improved. My piano teacher told me I could be "So talented, if only i put a bit more time into it". That made me both sad and happy.

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.~~

I like chips now, and jacket potatoes and I will eat aubergine without complaining.

3) ~~Make my handwriting readable.~~

4) ~~Cry less.~~

I think i managed this, i should really have bottled all my 2009 tears and all my 2010 tears and done a comparison.

5) ~~Make at least 5 new friends.~~

I made lots of new friends, at least 20 of them. And they're all brilliant.

6) ~~Meet someone famous.~~

Erm... Does Boris Johnson count?

7) Follow 116 new people on twitter.

So close, but forgot about this until New Years Eve - maybe I'll do this by the end of 2011?

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

I met the lovely Katcal and Regfrog and we went elephant hunting in London then spent hours in Victoria Station chatting. It was a most enjoyable day, even though it was so hot i thought my face was melting.
9) ~~Spend less time on/thinking about twitter.~~

Look at that! Amazing!

10) ~~Brush my hair more often... like, at least once a week.~~

I think I've managed this, my hair's shorter now anyway and I've stopped leaving the house looking a mess.

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

People don't often feel like smiling back on a bus at 7 o'clock in the morning :(

12) ~~Raise some money for charity.~~

Hell yeah! I've done a lot of volunteering this year, we raised £130 for Harris Hospice, I helped at a summer fair which made about £4000 for Help for Heroes and I helped Barry raise £250 for cancer research.

13) ~~Get a new hamster.~~

14) ~~Spend less money on music.~~

Discovered the joys of borrowing CDs rather than buying my own.

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)~~

I have my Latin GCSE in 5 months, I'm just a little bit terrified.
18) ~~Stop letting certain people be horrible to me.~~

2010 - The year I learnt to stand up for myself.

19) ~~Stop being so concerned about my ugly face.~~

My brilliant cousin Em pointed out to me that nobody is looking at my face, they're all too concerned about themselves.

20) Write at least 1 blog a week.

Hmm... I wrote at least one blog a week but I didn't publish 4 of them. FAIL.

SO, 2011. What do I want to do this year? I think 2010 but with more glitter (and good exam results) would be a good place to aim for.

HAPPY NEW YEAR lovely blog readers. x

Untitled

2010-12-18T15:11:00.000Z

You know when something bad happens, i don't mean like the cat eating the Christmas turkey or something you've been looking forward to being cancelled because of the damn snow, i mean something really horribly bad. When all you can do is sit and cry and think 'why's this happening? Why my family, my friends? this isn't fair!'

I think there's only a certain amount of times you can feel like this, especially in a relatively short space of time. So it gets to the point when something else dives head-first onto the massive pile of things you're carrying round, you put your head on your desk for a minute or two, consider feeling sorry for yourself, then wipe your nose and think "fuck it, we've dealt with shit before, we can do it again, you've learnt that crying does nothing other than make things soggy and irritate your eczema, get on with it".

So I'm getting on with it.

And that's what i've learnt these last few days.

I Hit My Head On A Shelf

2010-12-13T17:24:00.000Z

It's been a long day. Actually, it's been a long week.

A long month.

I am very very tired. But also rather over-excited.

I had a bit of a break down in Physics today. I couldn't quite get my brain around the whole stupid idea of the earth moving.

The earth moves at 18 miles per second. BUT I AM SITTING STILL.

My Physics teacher was going on about trains - if you jump up on a moving train, you land in the same place. apparently. I don't believe this and i won't until I've seen some proof, surely, SURELY you will land a bit further back than you were originally standing. No?

It resulted in me standing up and shouting "Don't even TRY to tell me that somebody standing still is travelling at the same speed as somebody in a car going 150 miles an hour!" Then bursting into tears. It was quite bad.

If someone would like to explain this to me... possibly with some diagrams, i'd be very very grateful.

In other news, I'm going to see Tim Minchin at the O2 tomorrow. I'm ever so excited!

My Day.

2010-11-30T19:40:00.000Z

Hey, you know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to choose a town with pretty bad transport links.

I'm going to choose a very tall and inaccessible hill in this town.

This hill must - 1) go up and down a lot. 2) be at least a mile from the nearest train station. 3) have pretty reckless drivers living nearby.

I'm going to go to the top of this hill - where there is a wood - *obviously* (complete with dog shit and flashers) and i'm going to build something there...

But what shall I build? A prison? (i mean, it would be pretty hard to escape!) a mental asylum? (ditto) maybe some offices?

NO!

I've got it! A school!

Should we open this school for the local children, i hear you ask?

NO!

Let's make it so that girls from various places across the borough and even central London can commute here!

Hooray! What i good idea! I can see no flaws in this plan at all.

Snow? Ice? What on earth do you mean? I have never heard of these before in my life...

-_-

That is all.

National Anti-Bullying Week 15th - 19th November 2010

2010-11-17T17:38:00.000Z

Students are told about bullying over and over again, in school, on the TV, in magazines, we all know what it is. We are told about the effects it has on people's lives, we all know that it is the wrong this to do. But people still do it.

I'm not going to say I've never said something nasty to someone or laughed about them behind their back, because I think everyone has, it's what teenage girls do. What I don't understand is how someone can put all their time and energy into making someone else's life hell, how even when they see that the other person is upset, they can carry on spreading rumours, turning their friends against them and sending them streams of rude texts and facebook messages.

It's anti-bullying week this week. I remember in year 7, it got to anti-bullying week and we had a PSHE lesson about it, we made posters and presentations, some of us had experienced bullying before, at primary school or outside of school but I remember thinking that at this school, it wasn't going to happen, we all got on too well.

How wrong could I have been? There are some people in life who set out to ruin things. They aren't happy unless there's some sort of 'drama' going on.

My school is filled with pretty smart people, you'd think that by the time they are 15, they'd realise that there's nothing clever about turning people against each other and that laughing really isn't the right reaction when you find them on their own in the toilets, crying?

Is it ironic that it is Anti-bullying week when 25 people who have loved each other and worked perfectly together for 4 years get torn apart by one vicious individual?

You might have noticed I've been pretty quite on Twitter lately. I've been pretty quiet everywhere. I'm keeping my mouth shut and my fingers crossed, hoping not to get too involved, hoping things will pass soon.

I just wish some other people could learn to keep their mouths shut too.

To conclude: Bullying is a shitty passtime, everyone has a million other things to worry about without having lies and bitchy comments thrown at them from all directions.

I hear... Screaming

2010-11-03T20:33:00.000Z

I'm not liking this whole November thing.

I am having enough difficulty finding the energy to have a conversation with my fellow humans at the moment let alone thinking up a readable blog.

However, earlier today someone said something and i thought, as i often do, about a TV show i saw when i was little. I think about this TV show a lot, i was really young when i saw it, i don't remember what chanel it was on or why i was watching it all i remember was that it was terrifying, i had never seen anything like it, i had nightmares for weeks and weeks and i still remember it as brilliantly terrifying. The only difference was that today, for the first time in years, i remembered the name of it - Are You Afraid Of The Dark.

So, obviously, the first thing i did was google it. They made 7 series of it! It's quite likely that someone reading this will also have seen it, i quickly found the episode i saw - it aired in 2000, i would have been 4.

I know people say you should re-watch things you saw when you were young because it will ruin it but i HAD to watch it.

Here it is, if you have a spare 25 minutes http://www.megavideo.com/?v=XENJUHG7

WELL, it was actually quite creepy, i mean, it's really cheesy and probably won't give me nightmares but i enjoyed it (perhaps not as much as i did when i was 4).

I think maybe that was what started my strange fascination with the disturbing. I remember when i was about 7, my dad showed me a website with short films on and i would spend my evenings glued to the computer screen watching half an hour long obscure horror films and i LOVED them, programmes like the Mighty Boosh (not really horror, but a bit odd) and psychoville make me laugh more than anything else and Stephen King is one of my absolute favourite authors.

And I really want to go to the Hunterian Museum in London but nobody will go with me.

On a completely unrelated note - Anonymous commenter - I love the playlist a lot. Thank you. x

Panic.

2010-10-26T16:41:00.001+01:00

Panic Attack: n. The sudden onset of intense anxiety, characterized by feelings of intense fear and apprehension and accompanied by palpitations, shortness of breath, sweating, and trembling. Also called anxiety attack.

I've panicked about things before, trembling a little, feeling short of breath and a bit dizzy, it's inconvenient and a little scary. But not terrifying.

I can tell you what is terrifying...

Let me set the scene for you:

It's about 10.30 on Friday night in Paris, it's raining outside but you don't know that, you're curled up on the floor of Chateau D'Eau metro station hyperventilating, sobbing and shaking. Your eyes are closed because everything is spinning. Crowded round you are 20 other girls and several drunk and/or homeless French people and they're STARING. Kneeling next to you is a concerned yet very awkward language teacher. You wish they'd stop staring. You feel like you are going to die. Somebody puts their hand on your shoulder and you retch, in that moment you thank every God that you don't really believe in that you'd had the sense not to eat anything that day - there are very few things that could make this situation worse, one of them being throwing up.

Basically, it wasn't nice. It was traumatic and embarrassing and I'm finding it hard to write about it.

I've always been a little bit claustrophobic, but only a little bit. Underground trains in London don't bother me very much at all and I have honestly never been so frightened by anything before.

It started when we got on the metro after dinner, it was quite crowded and i was squished in the middle of a lot of people. It was uncomfortable and I began to shake, at every stop more and more people got on, there wasn't room for them but they kept getting on. It was awfully unpleasant, I was shaking quite a lot by this point. But then something else happened, two angry French people started shouting at each other quite close to where I was standing, the shouting turned to pushing the punching, they were having a full on fight and there really wasn't room for it. I was so squashed, I thought i was suffocating, everything was blurry, I could only hear people screaming and shouting and swearing in French. My legs gave way but we were so tightly packed into the stupid train that I didn't fall, I just stayed wedged between two people I didn't know. We were so close to our stop but someone had pressed the emergency button and we weren't going anywhere. I actually can't remember between then and when we reached the station and people began to move, someone (i later found out it was one of my friends) noticed me, grabbed me by my coat and dragged me out of the door where I fell onto the platform.

I don't know how long I sat there for, It could have been a very long time, It could have been just 5 minutes and I don't remember anything else until a lot later that evening.

It might not sound that bad to you but it was, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. We had to go on the metro what felt like a thousand other times over the weekend and it didn't get much better. Although I could mostly get over myself once we got out of the station and onto the street, I think I cried more times over the weekend that I ever have done before. One of the teachers told me I was really brave, I didn't feel brave, I felt stupid and irritated at myself for not being about to do something simple that everyone else could do so easily. I was so scared of throwing up that I didn't eat between Friday morning and Monday evening - I'm not sure if that made the situation better or worse, all I know is that I'll be very happy if I never go on the metro ever ever again.

It was one of those times where everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong for our relatively small group of 30 students and 3 teachers, we made this list:

missing trains
people forgetting passports
people getting left behind at St Pancras
delaying Eurostar
lost luggage
not enough hotel rooms booked
breaking windows
getting surrounded by scary men in an alleyway before the French teacher came and chased them away
people getting lost on their own in Paris
allergic reactions
two people throwing up EVERYWHERE
asthma attacks
panic attacks *ahem*
stolen money/phones
one of the teachers stepping in unnatural amounts of dog poo
lost metro tickets and passports

I think we were cursed. But I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the trip, because I really did, I made new friends and learnt so many new things, had opportunities to do things I'd never get to do or even think about doing otherwise. The teachers were supportive and caring and everyone was so lovely to everyone else, we all became so close and without the bad stuff it wouldn't have been nearly as funny and exciting and memorable. I don't regret going one bit, I loved all of it... well, most of it.

I Write Poems For The Sheep, I'm Sure They Enjoy Them.

2010-10-07T19:21:00.001+01:00

Happy National Poetry Day!

I wrote a poem today, it's a bit shit:

I Am Very Bothered

I am very bothered when I thinkof the bad things I have done in my life.

Not least that time when i was 6

we were by the sea, playing in the surf,

laughing with me,

I grasped your hand, swore never to let go

before sinking my teeth deep into your flesh.

O the chilling scream of a wounded boy

your blood slid over your wrist and down my chin.

Sharp little teeth and an evil grin. Scarred.

An everlasting memory.

I’d be lying if i said sorry

as it gave me such delight

eyes flooded with your plight

and just that once, the only think you could think of...

was me.

You may have noticed that it is based on my favourite poem by Simon Armitage. When I say "based on", i mean copied.

When i was little, this was my favourite poem:

Missing

Has anybody seen my mouse?

I opened his box for half a minute,

Just to make sure he was really in it,

And while I was looking, he jumped outside!

I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....

I think he's somewhere about the house.

Has anyone seen my mouse?

Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?

Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,

He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,

So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;

Why, what could he possibly find to eat?

He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:

Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?

He's just got out...

Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?

Another favourite is this one:

It pleased my greatly today when i had the opportunity to say to a year 7 "stop doing that or i'll cut your fucking feet off and while you lay there bleeding i'll use your feet... to kick you in the head." I think i might have scared her.

sigh

2010-10-05T19:24:00.000+01:00

I need help.

I'm going to tell you something, you mustn't think i'm a freak, and don't say i'm being silly - that's what everyone else does.

I'm really really tired.

I go to bed at 10.30/11 and wake up at 6 every day. That's quite a healthy amount of sleep isn't it?

But the thing is, for the last two or three months, i've been having such ridiculously vivid dreams. They're not nightmares, just bad dreams, not with flying goats and trains that can talk, just the people i know in everyday life. That's the worst bit - they're so believable. They always put me in awful situations where i'm stressed and nervous and everything seems to be going as badly as it possibly could.

Then i wake up. Often, i wake up crying, which is a pretty rubbish start to the day. And i swear i'm more tired than i was before i went to sleep. Even though i know it was a dream, i still feel scared and shaky for the rest of the day. The dreams are so detailed and accurate that it's hard to believe they're not real.

I remember exactly when it started, I was at my Grandparents' house at the beginning of the summer holidays and one night i had this dream, it was actually a really nice dream but i was so shocked by the detail i could remember that the next day i wrote it down. It filled 12 A4 pieces of paper, and pretty much every night since then i've had another dream. They were quite pleasant at first but they seem to be getting more horrible.

And i don't know what to do... it's definitely having a major effect on my ability to concentrate in school and even when i'm really happy and having a good time, these stupid dreams are always at the back of my mind.

What can i DO??

"Pictures Of Last Night Ended Up Online... I'm Screwed"

2010-10-04T17:59:00.001+01:00

Birthday = done.

I'm 15 now. That feels quite old. I feel like i should be hanging round in shopping centres with my hood up, spitting at people. I won't... but i could.

I must say, despite everything, this was a very very nice birthday. The nicest for a long time.

My friends were very sweet, buying me starbucks hot chocolate and giving it to me on the bus, making me really pretty birthday cards and giving me a strange yet completely perfect selection of presents. Including: a Jedward poster (which i'm not allowed to put up), DVDs of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and The Lovely Bones, CDs, a book, a LOT of chocolate and cute stationary. And bubbles.

Oh yes... and i got an iPhone. EEK!

I love it. I can never ever get signal... but i still love it.

I had a party on Friday, we ate pizza and played on Wii Just Dance and generally had a good time. I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to play with the camera on my iPhone. I made this, enjoy:

Um... that's it.

Call All You Want But There's No One Home

2010-09-27T19:46:00.001+01:00

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

2010-09-25T17:05:00.000+01:00

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.

2010-09-12T18:54:00.003+01:00

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.

2010-09-09T19:52:00.001+01:00

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.

2010-09-08T21:28:00.001+01:00

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

2010-09-03T19:30:00.000+01:00

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.

2010-09-02T19:17:00.000+01:00

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.

I Ain't Afraid Of No Ghosts

2010-08-31T21:51:00.001+01:00

1) I've just checked my emails. All the subject lines lined up in my inbox made me giggle.

These are the subject lines of emails i've recieved in the last week:

i'm an idiot. i'm your idiot.

you make my day lilac and electric blue with yellow flashes

I'm the American dream, i'm the definition of white trash.

You didn't email me.

Um... it's me again.

He's in your bed.

All of this shit is long

Y'all act like you've never seen a blue person before.

i ain't good to girls, me i'm a bad boy, something every good girl needs.

Big cook, little cook.

Stealing the crown jewels.

And the love kickstarts again...

مرحبا ، جميلة واحدة

special shoes.

This is because i ran out of texts. I have 300 texts a month and i used them all up while i was on holiday in Somerset because i was lonely. Now i'm emailing people instead.

2) I play too much tetris. I used to hate it but now i'm obsessed with it. Actually obsessed. I can get to level 9 but i won't be happy until i get to level 10. I can stop when i get to level 10, that's what i keep telling myself. When i close my eyes before i go to sleep, i see tetris. It just happens in my head. When i was brushing my teeth thismorning i started thinking about the ways that toothbrushes could fit together to make squares and lines. Like tetris.

Is this worrying?

3) For my birthday i would like a jumper with a reindeer on.

What can be done? Nothing much.

2010-08-29T22:30:00.001+01:00

I've been sitting at my desk a lot in the last couple of days, just sitting and staring. I haven't had the time to do this for rather a long time, this is most definitely a good thing, just sitting and staring gives me too much time to think and when i have too much time to think bad thoughts get into my head. Usually, when I'm busy, when I'm running round like a mad person with a million things to get done, the bad thoughts don't have any way of getting in. The million things act like a barrier stopping any nasty, hateful things from wriggling into where they're not wanted. That's why being busy is always better than not being busy.

It's times like this, when there's noting else to think about that i start making a mess, i start half hearted attempts at tidying or making plans for the future but they always fail and i always end up just sitting and staring again. Nothing productive can come of this time and it may explain why it's currently impossible to see my bedroom floor as I've pulled all of the clothes out of my wardrobe with the intention of throwing some of them away, emptied out my school bag and pencil case wanting to get them ready for the next school year and my all books have been pulled off the bookshelf for no reason other than it's what i felt like doing at the time. None of this bothers me at the moment, what is bothering me though is that Matilda has knocked her food bowl over and there's about a handful of hamster food on the floor. I don't seem to be able to do anything about it though.

So a few hours ago, as i was staring at the shelf that's above my desk that has nothing on it other than an empty plant pot, a glass of water with a small meerkat in it, a model of the human anatomy, my purse, a Latin textbook and my calendar, i noticed that i haven't changed the date on my calendar since the 18th of June. I feel like something important might have happened on the 18th of June but i can't really remember that far back.

I took it off the shelf and began flicking through to find today's date, as i was about to tear all the old pieces of paper off, i looked at them and thought "bloody hell, that's a lot of pieces of paper" then i thought "that's a lot of days". It's so odd thinking of them all as individual days rather than just things that happened and then the bits in between where things didn't happen.

I don't know why, but i cleared a space on the floor and i laid them all out like this:

My first thought was "gosh, how did i forget to change my calendar over for such a long time!" my second thought was "what have I done with all that time?!". Now I'm thinking about it, I've done an awful lot with all that time! i don't think there's one single bit of paper i could point at and not be able to day "i did something that day and i had a pretty good time".

There not always big things but if i sum it all up, these last few months, this summer, has been one of the best times of my life.

Why? I'm not sure, maybe because I've been keeping busy, I've been making new friends, doing things i wouldn't have thought about doing before, spending as much time as possible with people i love, generally I've been very happy. For various reasons, i feel like I've had to grow up a bit, spending more time away from my home, organising myself a bit more and looking after other people and i love the feeling of being in control of my own life. I'm not, of course, my parents, my school and in fact, the people i have to spend time with at school all have a lot more control over my life than i do but I've been enjoying the freedom I've had.

I think that's why I'm feeling scared/sad at the moment, i go back to school on Thursday and all of this will be lost, I'll be in different classes with new people, I'll have to convince people to like me all over again, I'll have to work really hard to keep up, I'll have to abandon doing things i enjoy and everything's going to feel uncomfortable and difficult.

Last September/October/November were rather awful, most evenings i came home from school and cried and felt like shit. I felt like the world was conspiring against me, that i was a useless, stupid, friendless, ugly idiot. I coped with it by spilling my emotions all over Twitter, don't worry, I've stopped doing that now, I've learnt it's messy and unattractive and nobody really cares. I'm scared that this September/October/November are going to be just as bad, if not worse.

"To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom" That's what today's date on my calendar says, well, calendar, tell me this, how am I supposed to conquer this fear? I mean, what am I even scared of? A fear of the Autumn months? Because that's completely normal, isn't it. A fear of change? Possibly.

But what can be done? Nothing much. I guess I'll just get on with it and hope for the best.

Notebooks - Continued

2010-08-15T10:18:00.000+01:00

You all said it was a good idea!

So i thought about it a bit more and i've kind of worked out how it could work.

It's hard to explain and i'm not sure how well it would work but i need to know if anyone has a notebook that they would want to swap? if you do, could you email me please - stephanie.ellen.friend@gmail.com.

I'll tell you how i think it could work:

i was thinking a tumblr page, they don't look too complicated.

then, when somebody has a notebook, email me with a picture/any other stuff about it as well as your address/work address/PO box (wherever you'd want something sent to)

i'll put it on the blog, the picture, not your address.

if you see one you want to swap with, comment on it saying you want to swap.

the rest will be sorted out by email.

ok... so as i was typing that i thought of one major problem, i'm going to have to go away and think about it.

But overall it can't be that hard, i mean, there'll probably be about 3 people actually interested in doing this.

Oh and something somebody mentioned was cost of posting them. I worked out that it would cost under £2 to post my notebook, it's A4 with a plastic cover and hundreds of pages, i don't think that's *too* expensive.

Notebooks

2010-08-14T18:31:00.000+01:00

I've had an idea and i absolutely must tell you about it. NOW, before i forgot. I thought of it about 10 minutes ago so there's probably quite a few problems with it - feel free to point them out but basically it's this:

I always have a notebook on my desk, i scribble in it and start to write things in it and make lists in it and draw pictures and try out pens to see if they work and probably other stuff too. I'm sure i'm not the only person who does this?

Well, the other week i was at my friend's house, we were looking for something in the loft when we found a box of props from a play her mum had directed, it had school notebooks in which the actors had doodled in whilst on stage, they were really fascinating and funny, we spent hours reading them.

So what do you do with a notebook when all the pages are used up? throw it away. but it always seems such a shame to throw away hours worth of thoughts and pictures and other potentially wonderful stuff and it seems pointless to just put it in a cupboard only to be thrown away in a few years time.

So here is my idea - a website where people swap their used up notebooks. I haven't thought it out that well yet but people could post a picture of what the notebook looks like and maybe when they bought it and when they stopped using it then people could post them to eachother... or... something (ok, i really need to think a bit more about this but you get the basic idea.)

So... what do you think? Would it work? Would anybody be interested in helping me actually making it happen?

Happy Birthday Princess Anne

2010-08-14T15:45:00.000+01:00

So, Princess Anne is 60. Well done her.

I have a Grandad, my Dad's Dad, well, my Dad's step-dad. He's very nice just very very boring. Mostly he talks about himself or the rotary club: what he did whilst he was a District Governor, what he has to do as a PGD, what good work the rotary club do, rotary club raffles he has won (which he ALWAYS seems to be doing, either they have a ridiculous amount of raffles or he's rigging them), rotary club dinners, rotary club meetings, trips to America/Australia/Germany with the rotary club and his absolute favourite topic of conversation - important and influential people he has met via the rotary club. He's met Princess Anne 3 or 4 times "she's a wonderful woman".

Somebody, who will remain anonymous in this blog, once told me that the only way i'd get somewhere in life would be if i married someone very rich. I didn't take this to heart, they're a twat. Anyway, a while ago, i was discussing this with my parents and a friend. I decided i would quite like to marry into the royal family, i mean, they're pretty rich and i'd get to go round opening buildings and being horribly rude and badly behaved and not get in trouble for it.

Who could i marry? The obvious choices would be Prince William or Prince Harry but i have no connection to them whatsoever. it's then that i remembered Grandad's *hilarious* anecdotes involving Princess Anne - perfect!

So i suggest Princess Anne, i also explained my plan to get Grandad to introduce me to her - next time he was due to be at a function she will be at, i'll ask him if i could come because i really fancy her.

Everyone laughed, his reaction would be priceless, Barry might have done an impression of what sort of face he would pull. Everyone laughed a bit more.

Then my mother turned to me and said, with genuine fear in her eye's: "Don't".

"Why not?"

"Because he'll write us out of his will"

******

He often comes round for Sunday lunch, i play an awesome little game where i subtly (and often not-so-subtly) bring the conversation round to Princess Anne. Sometimes saying something like "You know, i think Princess Anne is really..." *pause to take a long sip of my drink and watch my parents go very white* "...a very inspirational woman". He's so self-absorbed, i don't think he's noticed my odd obsession yet.

It is honestly my favourite boredom-beating game, except for the one at Christmas dinner where you have to slip the words "tramp's knob" into conversation without anyone noticing. Honestly, there is nothing funnier than watching my parents squirm nervously in their seats whilst i ramble on about the amazing charitable work of the Princess Royal. And i wonder why they seem so stressed all the time...?

I Love Mad People

2010-08-11T17:24:00.000+01:00

I need to tell you about the amazing man i met today.

Right, imagine the scene, i'm in Glastonbury. In a shop. I'm not sure what it was called but it sold jewellery and windchimes and little statues and scented candles and other stuff. There was no one else in the shop except for the man behind the counter, i don't know his name, he had a beard. It smelt strongly of something, i don't know what, but it was making me feel a bit sleepy.

Man - "Good Evening" (it was about two o'clock in the afternoon)

Me - "Oh, hello"

Man - *signals for me to come a bit closer, leans towards me as if he was going to tell me a secret* "Are you a fairy?"

Me - "erm... yes." (well, what else could i have said?)

"Fantastic! There aren't many of us left now days, i just knew, i just knew, i could tell as soon of you walked into the shop."

"mmm, yes. So... you're a fairy too?"

"Of course! of course... are you a fairy princess?"

"erm... yes" (i was starting to feel VERY awkward by now)

"Amazing! Of course you are! i just knew... i could just tell! you have that look about you, my wife was also a princess... she's dead now though." *grabs my hand, kisses it* "an honour to meet you!"

*nervous laughter* "yes, you too"

"Are you from Scotland?"

"No, London."

"Ah yes, yes, i always get those accents mixed up"

"And you're from Glastonbury?"

"Yes... i've always been here, it's the best place for the likes of us. I should like to go to London one day but i think it may be a little too far to walk"

I started to say something about driving or getting a train but i stopped myself. Then we stood there for a few second, staring at eachother.

"I think i have to go now"

"Of course, of course, it was lovely meeting you. Would you like a bracelet?"

"I don't really have enough money"

"No! Take it, take it for free! There's no charge for my fellow fairies"

"Oh thank you"

"Goodbye! Send my greetings to the fairies of Scotland"

"Bye"

He was awesome.

Eclipse: The Never-Ending Argument

2010-07-18T21:35:00.003+01:00

"You're impossibly fast and strong, your skin is pale white and ice cold... I know what you are."

"Say it. Say it out loud."

"...Polar Bear."

If i had Facebook, i would have "liked" that. But i don't, so i put it here for you to giggle at. That is, if you, like every teenage girl in the world, have read the Twilight books.

I saw Eclipse yesterday. I found it... long. But that's all i expected, just like the other 2 films, and all 4 books.

As we left the cinema, and before getting called "little whores" by a fat 10 year old (i *love* living in Bromley) my friends and i had a disagreement. I think EVERYONE my age must have had this disagreement and although i could happily murder everyone i saw wearing a bag/t-shirt/badge with "team Jacob" or "team Edward" on, i think i'm going to tell you my opinion.

It's Edward. Always.

SO if we're talking about the character in the book, look at it this way, Edward is a vampire, he's described as the most beautiful man in the world (or something like that, i can't be bothered to look up the exact quote), his family is ridiculously rich and enjoy buying expensive things for Bella, he's read practically every book in the world and is a brilliant pianist, he can read people's minds. He tried to kill himself when he thought Bella was dead - that's devotion. Also, he is glittery!!

Then Jacob, he's a wolf. He's about 3 or 4 years younger than Bella and spends his spare time dissecting cars. He's self-obsessed and can't seem to understand why Bella isn't completely in love with him. He can't read people's minds but the rest of his "pack" can hear his thoughts. HE TURNS INTO A WOLF when he gets angry/a bit over-excited, that could get very very awkward. Don't forget that one of his wolf friends got angry, turned into a wolf then like, broke his girl-friend's in the face. ouchie.

But if we're talking about Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner... it's still Robert Pattinson (although Peter Facinelli is much better looking than either than them)

Robert Pattinson looks like a batman cartoon, i haven't yet decided if this is a bad thing or not. Ignore the MASSIVE eyebrows and he's quite good looking, if a bit girly,he looks like an Abercrombie model which *should* be a bad thing but to be honest i don't think it is, however he knows it, which always makes someone at least 75% LESS attractive.

But then Taylor Lautner, what can i say...? My friend's argument was "he's got an amazing body, the face... well, i could put up with that". Has he got an amazing body? I'd say no, it's actually quite scary, imagine if he hugged you - he'd squish you! And what is that? He's got some interesting 2nd shoulder thing going on there. Is that normal? Does that make you think "sexy" because it makes me think "maybe you should go to a doctor about that"

I'm not sure if it's because his body is so muscular but his head is tiny! it's ridiculous, it looks as if it's going to roll away at any point. But then his face! HIS FACE?! What happened there? He also has rather large eyebrows but i don't think you notice them as much as you do Robert Pattinson's because his teeth seem to steal most of the attention for themselves. They practically jump out at you dancing in from of your face yelling "LOOK, look at these enormous white teeth." Even though these two particular features are so striking, it's not like the nose goes unnoticed, it's just THERE, i can only make sense of it like this - his eyebrows and his teeth had a huge battle as to which would get the most face space and his nose got caught in the middle. Although i have to say, in the film, when he turns into the wolf, it is the cutest thing ever. Awww.

I'll stop being horrible about the men now and say this instead:

Kristen Stewart, your teeth looked better before. Also, i hate you.

It's Political Correctness Gone Mad...

2010-07-10T20:26:00.002+01:00

Ok, so it's not really *political correctness* gone mad, more, health and safety gone mad, but i've always wanted to have a reason to say that.

I'll get straight to the point, you're not allowed to be given a sticky plaster if you're under 16. Because "you might be allergic to it".

So on Thursday, this hapened:

Me: "excuse me, may I have a plaster please?"

Miserable Office Lady: "no"

Me: "ok... why?"

Miserable Office Lady: "you might be allergic to them"

Me: "i'm really not"

Miserable Office Lady: *sigh* "what have you done?"

Me: *points at leg* "walked into i filing cabinet"

Miserable Office Lady: "what, backwards?"

Me: "well, i sort of...."

Miserable Office Lady: "i don't want to know. you can have this." *hands over bandage and some tape*

I ended up walking around Orpington then acting in our last performance of Cats (our Performing Arts entry - we came 4th!) with a large and slightly unnecessary bandage round my left knee.

It's silly, it is completely impossible to prevent anyone from ever having an allergic reaction. By the time you're my age, you should know what you're allergic to and be able to mostly avoid it, especially if it's something like sticky plasters - you can't really put one on your skin "by accident".

If they want to prevent as many medical emergencies as possible, i suggest the following things:

1) Dinner ladies should know exactly what's in the food they're serving so when someone asks they don't simply stare at them blankly.

2) Fix the radiator that sticks out of the wall at a strange and dangerous angle and leaks hot water in room 39 and glue down the bit of carpet in the drama room that people always trip over.

3) invest in some less-sharp cornered filing cabinets.

ASDA

2010-06-17T16:00:00.002+01:00

I went to Asda. I don't know why; there's about 5 Tescos, 4 Sainsburys, 3 Waitrose and a Morrisons all closer to my house but for some reason i went to Asda.

I am never going again.

Who was it that first decided that supermarkets have to be MASSIVE? Do they really need to sell clothes and garden furniture and televisions and CDs and have pharmacies and opticians and at least one cafe? Really?

My nearest Asda is in Swanley. I looked at Wikipedia to find something interesting about Swanley to tell you, i found this - "Fat Heather from Eastenders now lives here, she can be seen frequently at the local Woolwhich Bank every Thursday morning between the hours of 9:00 and 12:00". Fascinating.

There's that blog, Overheard on The London Underground, i think there should probably be some sort of collection of "overheard in Asda". I'll start.

"Yeah... get them beans, they're french aren't they? right posh, and i think he went to france once."

Man "shall we get this candle."
His wife "no."
Man "but it smells nice"
His wife "it smells like horse vomit"

Woman in the cosmetics isle "I need some REALLY strong moisturiser, REALLY strong, i practically need a chisel to deal with the skin on my feet"
On hearing this I actually let out a fairly audible "eeeewwwwwww"

I was standing looking a fresh herbs when a small boy holding a gun shouted at me "BANG! you're dead"
Me "oh, ok."
Him "NO, i shot you, you're DEAD."
Me "Yes, i'm dead"
Him "no you're not! DIE DIE DIE"
Me "Ahhh. I'm dead."
Him "Dead people don't talk."
Me "Sorry"
*silence*
Him "Good." *walks away*

Fairly large old woman to me "you're standing in front of the sandwich bags"
Me "I know, i'm just deciding which ones to get"
Her "well move. I know exactly which ones i'm going to get. unlike you, i came prepared"
Me "ok." *moves*
Her *tutting* "look at your legs"
Me *looks*
Her "are your legs SWOLLEN?"
Me "no"
Her "mine are."
Me "uhhhh, ok." *walks away very quickly*

Woman, waving a dress at me "Be honest, would I look like an oompa-loompa in this?"

A Recipe For Brilliant Friends

2010-06-04T17:33:00.004+01:00

There are very few people i could spend almost 72 hours, without sleeping, with and still love afterwards. I think, when you've found someone you could do that with, then you have a proper best friend. I'm lucky - i have 2.

Best friends also have to:

- not care when you endlessly take the piss out of them.

- make you laugh so much that you think you're going to throw up your lungs.

- be willing to eat food that you've spat out.

- be thinking exactly the same thing as you so that when you break out into spontaneous dancing, you're both doing exactly the same thing.

- never be too embarrassed to go out in public with you, especially when you're dressed like THAT:

I was sitting outside Bromley South station on Wednesday morning when i thought "i must actually be quite brave to go out wearing this". I was wearing this.

I realised later that it was probably a mistake wearing such alarming tights. STOP STARING AT MY LEGS!! But my friend was wearing flowery leggings and bright pink DMs. People on the tube were looking at us.

The next day i wore black shorts, red tights, a white vest top and a blue shirt.

The red tights got laddered so i took them off.

My parents didn't say anything.

So i decided to see how far it could go. i took the shirt off and just wore the shorts and vest top.

Still, nobody said anything.

So i put the shirt back on, took off the vest top, did the top 3 shirt buttons up then rolled the rest of it up.

Nothing.

So i took my shoes off.

Then walked out the house with my friend. Two minutes later i got too embarrassed so turned back and declared "You call yourself PARENTS??! i have just left the house wearing almost no clothes!! you're supposed to tell me off! you're supposed to CARE!? you have just let me leave the house looking like a complete slut!!"

Their response - "Oh."

Nice to know that they take an interest in me.

Anyway, i got sidetracked.

-You need to have similar interests to your best friend. We like IKEA.

So we went to IKEA. It was fun. I bought these beautiful things.

Any Swedish speaking people reading this? Does "påsk" mean Easter?

-We went to the Natural History Museum on Wednesday. It's very important that your best friend will want to go to cool places like that with you and won't laugh at you for suggesting it.

-Possibly most importantly, you have to know some of the same people in order to laugh about them behind their back.

We made this playlist. 9N It's people in our class, we tried to use the best possible songs but for some of them we didn't have much choice.

Finally, i have discovered something even better than facebook stalking - formspring stalking. This is the most irritating person in the world's formspring: http://www.formspring.me/IshabelP I will give a prize to the first person able to guess which of the questions i have asked her.

Here's a video my other best friend made. She has this amazing talent of always taking dreadful photos of me. Anyway, enjoy. (you might remember those cakes from this blog)

Oh Look! It's ME!

2010-05-30T19:33:00.001+01:00

I haven't written a blog in ages and ages. This is because blogger was pissing me off, every time i attempted to write something, i ended up wanting to smash things up and cry. BUT you may have noticed - new blog layout! I like it a lot more like this and i love the new header. I had tried to draw a header, i drew a bunch of teddies and a little rag doll, it was cute, but trying to transfer it from paper to computer was a bit too much for me and it made even worse by the fact i have NO programmes on my computer (i'll come to that later). Anyway, as i was trying to edit the layout, i stumbled across the brand new blogger posting thingy, which is quite brilliant, so i'll write more often now. Although, I can't help thinking that blogger was trying to hide it from me. Hmmm...

Does anyone have an opinion of the new layout? Please comment, i love getting comments on here, it's very exciting, i actually squeak out loud when i see the thing that says "1 new comment".

My computer died, it was horrible but Barry fixed it. Actually he said that he *enjoyed* fixing it "it's like a giant puzzle", weirdo. Anyway, it's fixed now, just. But the only things on it are iTunes, Spotify, Google chrome (which is fantastic, much better than firefox) and skype. I can't put anything else on, like Microsoft office, because the disk drive is also broken. AHH!

I now have 2 hard drives. This is confuzzling. Anyway, as i was going through files that i didn't know i had on the old one, i discovered hundreds of things that i'd forgotten about, yesterday evening i deleted : 4 hotmail accounts, 2 wordpress accounts, a piczo account, a myspace account, a formspring account, a youtube account, a facebook account that i didn't know i had and my bebo account. Why would one person ever need that many internet accounts?! All i have left now is my Blogger account, a virgin email account, skype, spotify and a twitter one, so don't even TRY to stalk me.

Anyway, i'm in a good mood, it's half term and i only have 2 exams left before i can give up and let my brain turn to mashed potatoes until September.

Here are some other things that are causing my good mood:

Sunny weather
Tomatoes
The ridiculous amount of flowers in vases around my house
Slightly shorter hair - looks prettier, needs less brushing
New running shoes
Sewing machines
Morrisons raisin loaf cake
This song - The Wombats – Let's Dance To Joy Division
Being slightly in love with somebody who would never even look at me
This video - http://www.youtube.com/user/amazingphil?blend=1&ob=4#p/u/0/dhQItMIzzYg
My new purse - it has blue flowers on.
This coffee cup -

Words With Friends app. If you have it - i'm StephanieEllen and i WILL beat you (possibly). If you don't have it - download it, it's free and it will take over your life.
Monsters of The Deep exhibition at the Natural History Museum - EXCITED!!
You.

Monday

2010-04-13T16:30:00.009+01:00

Monday was my last day of being away.

It was sad leaving my Grandparents. I am worried that they're lonely when i'm not there being loud and untidy.

Barry decided that he wanted to go to Cardiff as it's sort of on our way back. I've never been there before. It's very... Welsh. Like, more Welsh than you'd expect. I know that it's in Wales an' all but still, i've been lead to believe that very few people actually speak Welsh, well, that's probably a lie because i head at least 6 people speaking it. I mean, how can you not speak Welsh when every road sign and a great deal of shops have words in both English and Welsh. I was only there for a day and i learnt these words:

Araf = Slow.

bwsiau = bus

croeso = welcome

rhybudd = warning

allan = exit

After drinking coffee, we began to think about what we were going to do. The first thing i did was get lost. I really really needed the toilet and thought that there MUST be one in a shopping centre. I didn't realise quite how big this shopping centre was, it's probably bigger than Blue Water except all on one floor. I was lost there for over half an hour, there's hundreds of long corridors lined with thousands of shops but NO toilets! I finally remembered that Marks and Spencer's usually had toilets, but i forgot that there's usually ques of old ladies, miles long outside the toilets. So, 45 minutes after setting out to look for a toilet, i finally got to one. It took me 10 minutes to navigate out of the shopping centre only to find that my parents had got bored and wandered off.

I found my mother doing a survey about terrorism. So i left her to it. Then i found my father having an argument with a sales assistant in HMV.

Finally, we went to see a castle or something. My Father rufused to pay to go inside, instead we agreed that we'd go on one of those siteseeing tours.

There weren't many people on the bus, it was incredibly windy. Here are my parents, looking confused by a map.

The best picture i took whilst on that bus. It's not even that good.

The Millenium Centre. EXCITING!!

We went inside, this was also exciting. Aeroplanes.

I AM IN TORCHWOOD. EEK!

The next thing we did was to go to the Dr Who exhibition at the Red Dragon centre. But I will write about that in another blog.

More going on a bus. We saw the Millennium Stadium. It's massive! But the weird thing is, it's really well hidden, driving around, you don't see it unless you're right outside it. Spooooky!!

I think that going on an open top bus down a motorway might be one of the scariest experiences of my life. It messed up my hair.

Then Barry suggested that we go to Barry. It was boring and my shoe broke. I had to hop around, looking like an idiot, Welsh people looked at me all funny. I looked right back at them.

Something i learnt - people in TGI friday don't mind if you go in there without any shoes on.

Something else i learnt - don't drink 5 glasses of lemonade before a 4 hour car journey.

So, that's the end of these holiday blogs. You're probably bored of them now, i definitely am. I hope you enjoyed some of them though. Bye bye.

Saturday and Sunday

2010-04-11T15:48:00.006+01:00

"Who's that bloody idiot dancing in the paella?"

"Jamie Oliver?"

"Tosser."

I don't actually remember what time my family started drinking on Saturday, it was after my parents had arrived, and after my father and i had been sent into town to place everyone's bets for The Grand National. But i seem to remember them all getting rather drunk. Especially my mother.

I got thrown out of the betting shop so had to sit on a bench outside. That was sad, i thought i might possibly look 18. but i don't. also, it was cold.

My view from the bench -

As i already mentioned, my parents came down to "The West" on Saturday. So did other members of my family but they went hunting then stayed elsewhere. I disagree with hunting, i also disagree with buying a shot gun for my 11 year old cousin. But my family are just like that. According to my cousin "There was a rabbit in one of our traps, then Uncle Bob punched it to death." delightful.

Another thing i learnt that week was that my family don't understand vegetarians. I heard my Grandmother tell one of her sisters "Well, Stephanie's a vegetarian, you know." and her sister replied "Oh well, maybe she'll get over it." *sigh*. They also don't understand what it *means* to be vegetarian - "No, i don't want to eat something that's been swimming round in the juice of a dead animal... No, i know it's not ACTUALLY meat but i still don't want to eat it... NO! i don't want a bacon sandwich instead." For Sunday lunch, i ended up eating two mouthfuls of cauliflower cheese then sitting, looking miserable for the rest of the meal.

Sunday was my Grandmother's birthday. She was 73. YAY! Happy Birthday!

As a tribute to her, here are two of my absolute favourite things she says -

1) Somebody else "shall i put the kettle on?"

My grandmother "no, it wouldn't suit you"

2) on seeing a man whose trousers are slightly too short for him either - "ooh, someone's trousers have had and argument with his shoes" OR "well, his trousers have divorced his ankles and married his knees"

Um... that's it.

Unless you want to look at this picture of me?

Friday

2010-04-09T18:27:00.010+01:00

Swans and Geese. I always get those mixed up. Which are the ones that can bite your whole arm of and snap your thigh bone by just looking you in the eye, or... something like that?

Whatever. These are swans, and none of them killed me. Some of them are quite pretty, others are all brown and ugly, apparently they're the baby ones. Also, i shouldn't call them ugly just because they're a different colour. Awesome bit of anti-racism from my Grandad there.

This is Exeter. Some other things i encountered in Exeter -

Cathedral. If i'm honest, i was a bit tired of Cathedrals by Friday so didn't go much closer that this.

Wonky buildings.

More streets that wanted to kill me.

The most amazing buses you have ever seen. I found myself wishing that the ones in London were like this. But then i remembered that i have enough trouble staying awake on the bus in the morning without actually being comfortable.

This is the exeter riddle sculpture. It's brilliant. There's 8 panels each with a riddle on, they're writing backwards and the opposite panel is a mirror. Every time i go there, i wish i have more time to work them all out.

Yum.

New school shoes. Woo!

Hmm... i think that's it.

Oh, except for this - I very very rarely disagree with something that somebody is wearing - it's their choice what clothes they wear - but WHY do "older" women think it's normal to wear really high waisted jeans with a T-shirt tucked in! WHY?? It makes them look all odd and lumpy.

Thursday

2010-04-08T17:44:00.006+01:00

Thursdays are unspectacular days. People like Wednesdays because it's the middle of the week, which is always exciting. People like Fridays because it's nearly the weekend. Thursdays are the days that get in the way. A bit boring and a bit pointless. Just like me. That's why they're my favourite day. I've always liked Thursdays, for as long as i can remember, and they're especially good if it rains.

It didn't rain last Thursday, it was sunny. The first properly warm day of the year. I didn't wear a coat and i didn't once lose the feeling in my arms. However, we didn't do anything interesting. So, instead of my normal *fascinating* accounts of my days out, here is a list of things that happened on Thursday:

1) I woke up too late. My Grandparents thought i'd died in my sleep.

2) We went to Sainsburys. It's difficult to go shopping in Bridgwater without bumping into someone who claims to be related to me/be a close friend of someone who is related to me. I met a man called Frank who goes to the same ear clinic as my Grandad.

3) I had hot chocolate in The Old Vicarage. It's a very very nice cafe. You'd like it:

Sometimes, they have a Cat Morning - they get some people from a local cat shelter to bring cats there, so you can sit with a nice cat on your lap whilst you drink coffee and eat your chocolate and Guinness cake.

4) We went to this cheese shop and bought this curiously named cheese -

(i have just learnt that "tasty" is somersetish for "strong")

5) We had lunch. I had to explain to my Grandparents that "Sea Salt and Balsamic Vinegar" flavoured crisps are the same as plain salt and vinegar and "Mature Cheddar Cheese and Red Onion" flavour are just cheese and onion. I don't think they believed me.

6) I went to the hairdressers with my Grandmother and read a picture book called something like "Spikey The Hedgehog". I found it quite immature.

7) I found a punctuation mistake on page 275 of The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets' Nest. It upset me.

8) I learnt that eating two raw cloves of garlic every day for 12 weeks apparently prevents you from catching a cold. I might have to try it.

9) Also, i learnt that (according to my Grandmother) French men have no problem WHATSOEVER with weeing in the middle of a street, in front of anyone who cares to watch. Well... we learn something new every day.

Wednesday

2010-04-07T17:02:00.010+01:00

We went to Wells, there's a market there on Wednesday.

After staying up most of Tuesday night, reading The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets' nest, i was tired and in a bad mood for most of the morning.

It started badly. The first thing i said as i got into the car was - "you do know the way, right?". My grandad laughed. "Of COURSE i know the way, i've been there hundreds of times before." Well, he didn't know the way. We got lost out on the levels. again. I saw a cat that had been shot.

But we finally got there, and Wells is a really nice place. It was the first time i've been there and it's not been raining.

Here it is, not raining -

As it had taken a ridiculously long time to get there, the first thing to do was have coffee. There we were, minding our own business, when an man decides to come and sit with us. This isn't normal. He then starts to talk to us about his knee surgery. Also, not normal. Then, he rolls his trouser leg up and starts showing us the scars from the operation. This is just weird. He ended his speech with. "Ok then. Goodbye.", got up and left the cafe. then a woman who worked there came over to us and said "don't mind him, he does that a lot." Oh.

Then we went to the market. It mostly sold food, and terrible slippers.

Next, we went to walk around the Cathedral and the gardens are various other places.

I was puzzled. There are normally ducks here. Where did they all go? Ducks don't just disappear. Do they?

Anyway, i bought a pencil. Not very interesting.

Then things got a bit strange. I was standing outside a shop, my grandmother had gone inside and my grandad was in the bank, when all of a sudden, i very posh woman grabbed my by the elbow and shoved me in the other direction. I was half asleep and for some reason, i was standing in front of a fat old man.

"smile" said the posh woman. and about a second later, a picture was taken. "You don't mind this being in the newspaper, do you? No? Good." I blinked, shocked. The fat man shook my hand and it was then that i noticed they were all wearing blue rosettes. Ugh. Great. Thankfully, my grandad came over to rescue me.

"Hell would have to freeze over before I, or any member of my family had any sort of association with the conservatives." Then he walked away, dragging me behind him.

Ow. I don't want my picture to be in any newspaper. Especially not with some Conservative MP.

Anyway, Wells was infuriating my Grandad too much so we went to Glastonbury for lunch.

This is Glastonbury.

It's full of odd people and shops.

This is where we had lunch, it's very nice. i had vegetable pie and chips and somehow managed to get vinegar in my eye.

There's a lot of homeless people in Glastonbury. Homeless hippies. One of them was carrying a bow and arrows. Surely that's unnecessary, and illegal?

There's also this bakery. They sell very very small Cornish pasties that for some completely incomprehensible reason, my grandparents love. I think they're probably what made me become vegetarian.

I also saw this book:

No they don't. This is a blatant lie.

Tuesday

2010-04-06T17:53:00.015+01:00

Tuesday, it was decided that we'd go to Bath. There's a park&ride there.

It's quite a long journey to Bath from Bridgwater, about 46 miles. We saw a dead sheep.

Instead of going by motorway, we went the longer way, in order to prevent me from throwing up all over the place. this meant driving through Cheddar Gorge, although i have walked and driven down this road many many times, i am always shocked by how tall and beautiful it is.

Have a look -

If you've never been to Cheddar, then you should go. There are loads of goats. I should have taken a picture of some, really, but i was too busy trying to have a conversation with one. They weren't interested. I have come to the conclusion that goats are just like sheep, only a bit smarter and more pointy.

So, Bath. I've been a few times, it is always infested with tourists and tour guides, here is my very own guide to Bath.

This is the cathedral, it's very big and has lots of windows.

These are the baths. Well, just the building they're in. I have been inside before but it's really not that exciting. I also think that "Aquae Sulis" is a better name for a town than "Bath". The Romans knew everything.

Speaking of Romans. (don't worry, this isn't a real one)

Ok. So if you're not into religion and ancient civilisations, what is there to do in Bath?

Well, there are lots of buskers, normally they're quite good but i wasn't really impressed, i suppose everything's a let down after you've seen a busker in a 1700's style velvet suit and hat playing a dulcimer.

And...

Hot chocolate (i didn't drink this so much as cover my face in it)

My favourite shop.

Jewel encrusted pigs.

Sweeties!

The oldest house in bath. This is where a person called Sally Lunn invented the Bath bun. There are always long ques out the door for an "original" Bath bun. They're not all that. In fact, they're one of the most pointless foodstuffs ever invented. Silly old Sally Lunn.

The Apple Store. here is my Grandad looking utterly baffled.

And stupid roads that want to kill you. I am exaggerating when i say i twisted my ankles about 7000 times. But i did do it a lot.

Hmm... what else? There were some rude french people but i don't think they're a permanent feature.

That's about it really.

Monday

2010-04-05T17:11:00.004+01:00

Monday was a bank holiday. It was also raining.

I spent the morning listening to Emma Britton on BBC Somerset. Yeah... that's an interesting
radio show.

I feel that i should also let you know that although people have been making a lot of jokes about it, the people of somerset are taking the tax on cider VERY seriously. It seems it's all anyone wants to talk about and for some reason, they think ringing their local radio station and shouting is going to do anything.

After eating toast and tomato ketchup for lunch (which, and i know it's disgusting, is becoming one of the main parts of my diet), i decided that the whole day cannot be spent listening to a woman who likes to be called "Extra-Large Emma" insulting Easter bonnets made by 8 year old girls. I suggested going to the cinema. I was SHOCKED to discover that in the 6 years my grandparents have been living in this town, they haven't once been to the cinema. Odd. Anyway, i looked and found out which film was on. Yes, just the one film, maybe this is normal? I am embarrassed to admit that i am horribly unaware of how the world works outside of London. Is this normal? Anyway, it was Nanny McPhee. My Grandad refused to go. He's like that.

Shall i tell you what i thought? No? Well i'm going to anyway.

Firstly, the cinema. My grandmother and i both expected the cinema to be dirty, falling apart and full of chavs, much like the rest of the town. But it really wasn't, i'd go as far as saying it's the nicest cinema i've ever been to! It was outstandingly clean, nothing like the cinema near me which probably hasn't been cleaned in the last 4 years. And the seats were really comfy and there was loads of space so i could sit like a normal person rather than a pretzel. AND it was really cheap! only £4.50 for both of us. So, you know... if you're ever in Bridgwater on a rainy bank holiday - Scotts Cinema. It's next to the Bingo place.

Now, the film. I liked it! But, i'm not fussy with films. Every film i watch, i find exciting and fascinating and wonderful. I really should learn to be more cynical. It was fun and light hearted and pretty. There were some very silly childish bits but i think that's what i liked about it - i found them all really funny. So did my Grandmother, she was laughing a lot, possibly the most out of anyone there. She even got a bit tearful at the end. The thing i liked best about it were the animals, they were cute and funny, i've decided that i want a piglet, they're like orangutans, they have adorable wispy bits of hair and lovely smiley faces. and the can climb trees... i think.

Easter Sunday.

2010-04-04T18:07:00.019+01:00

This is a blog. But not really. What it really is, is some exciting (and not so exciting) things that i did, some stuff that i noticed and some pictures. The next few blogs will probably also be like this, i went to my Grandparents and had a smashing time and i'm sure (well, i'm hoping) that you missed me, so, here's what i got up to.

Sunday.

I'm sure every time i go there, my Grandparents get weirder. and sweary-er.

After a morning of nothing-muchness, we decided to go to the sea side in the afternoon. So, we went to Watchet.

The first thing we saw was a steam train, it was green, and very pretty. It was like Emily from Thomas The Tank Engine... you know, the Scottish one?... ok, only me then.

I waved at the driver and he waved back. That was brilliant!

We walked along by the harbour and saw lots of boats. You probably don't know this, but i like boats, they're definitely the most exciting mode of transport and a lot of them are really pretty.

This statue has the scariest face i have ever seen.

More boats, these aren't real though, they were for sale in the post office.

The Watchet museum, inside i found this picture which both terrifies me and fascinates me.

Apparently, The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner was inspired by the town. And they really like to make sure you know. This statue was one of MANY of the ancient mariner.

Random Fact - I am not a fan of The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner. I once had to memorise this bit and it's still taking up a significant chunk of my brain space -

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung."

Next, it was time for ice cream.

I had cappuccino flavour. It was yummy!

Seconds after i took this picture, the ice cream flew off the cone. but somehow, i caught it. It was very impressive, if i do say so myself.

Finally, i saw this

This is my grandparents' biggest local radio station, Quay West fm.

It was about 3 when we left Watchet, it should have been pretty easy to get home, BUT, my Grandad took the wrong turning and we got rather lost. 2 hours and 95 miles of driving down scary lanes, that's how lost we were.

After a while, we were very high up some sort of hill/mountain thing so we decided to use Wales as a reference point. Wales was to my left. Everything was fine, we continued driving down a straight road when suddenly, there was a tunnel of trees, five minutes later, we'd past the trees, but... "Oh GOD! Where's Wales??" Everything to my left is grass and this freaky red soil, i look to my left and to my relief, see Wales. But then it hits me. THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE!! I know that we didn't turn around, the road was straight, how can a whole country move? I'm no good at Physics but i know the world doesn't work like that! It's still confusing me now!

After we'd been lost for just over an hour, i suggested that we ask the next person we saw for directions. Well, there are some... "interesting" people in Somerset at the best of times but there, surrounded by empty fields, miles and miles from any habitation, there was no one. No one, except for one woman, we spotted her about 10 minutes after i suggested that. She was wearing a red tracksuit and a green anorak and had grey hair. She was standing by the side of the road and staring out, past the trees, to the sea. She didn't look at us when we stopped, in fact, i'm not sure if she looked at us at all, she might have just kept on staring.

"Hello" said my Grandad.

"Hello" said the woman.

"Could you possibly give us directions to Taunton, please?"

"No."

"Oh... well then, how long is this road?"

"This road, this road is very long."

"Yes, but where does it end?"

"This road never ends."

"Oh. Ok. Thanks for you help" *drives away very very quickly*.

The road did end. much much later. I'm beginning to wonder if she wasn't also a normal person once. Maybe, just like us, she took a wrong turning and got lost, but unlike us, gave up and has been standing there, by the side of that road, ever since.

Now THAT'S something to think about...

Competitions and Small Acts of Revenge

2010-03-31T16:00:00.004+01:00

Last Friday, at lunch time, was the Easter fair at my school. The Easter fair, much like the Christmas fair, and the summer fair is essentially, people selling stuff i the sports hall and an opportunity for everyone to eat as many sweets as they can and be as hyper and uncontrollable as possible for the last lesson.

Unfortunately, i forgot to take any money to school, so had to spend my lunch time following my friends about, watching them buying stuff and staring miserably at the 32p i had found in my pencil case.

Then, i saw that the Eco House captains were running a competition - you had to write an idea that would make more people in the school more interested in the "Sustainable Schools" stuff, then stick it to a girl who was walking round dressed as a tree.

I had an idea, it was this - Prizes for whichever form had the most paper in their recycling box. There are so many reasons why this idea wouldn't work, but i decided to write it anyway. Well, as soon as i'd announced to my friends that i was going to, i wished i hadn't. For some reason, and i have *no idea* why, coming up with environmentally friendly ideas isn't all that cool. So, as i was writing my idea down on a recycled piece of paper that had been cut into rubbish leaf shape, my friends decided to take the piss out of my in a MAJOR way. It involved a lot of horrible name calling which i won't repeat now as they'd take too much explaining.

When i came to writing my name and form, i decided to get my small act of revenge, instead of writing my name, i wrote "Emma Lamond" the name of one of my best friends, also the one enjoying teasing me the most. I felt very pleased with myself, it was a rubbish idea, there were loads better already stuck on the tree, there was no way i'd ever win but i felt pleased with myself - Emma would probably die if someone thought she had entered that competition. (yes, she is quite shallow, but i still love her).

Ok, you're not stupid so you will have guessed by now that i won. Only, i didn't win, did i? Emma did. Her face when her name was called out was the best thing i have seen in so long! At first she looked really really confused, then, you could see something go *click* inside her head and then she just looked embarrassed. Really really embarrassed.

AHahahahahahahahahah. hahahaha. haha. ahahaha < that was my hysterical laughter. Nobody knew what i was laughing about but i couldn't stop myself. I'm still laughing now, thinking about it. HA!

She told the Eco House Captains that it was my entry, not hers. They were confused, but they gave me first prize instead - a fairtrade easter egg. WOO! Of course, i offered it to Emma, but she didn't want it, in her words "You're the Enviro-Warrior nerd, you deserve it."

I'm so lucky that she has a good sense of humour. And they'll all probably think twice before making fun of me for being a geek in the future.

School. And Emergency Services.

2010-03-18T19:30:00.003Z

Well, this week school has been DRAMATIC... maybe not dramatic enough to be made into a film, but definitely dramatic enough for a couple of episodes of Casualty.

So, the first interesting thing that happened was on Monday morning. I got into school to learn that a girl in my year has been expelled. Apparently she hit one of the PE teachers after being told to put her phone away then getting into a shouty, sweary argument. I am not all that surprised by this (she's not exactly my favourite person in the world), in fact, i will probably be quite pleased once she's gone, being around her makes me nervous.

After Monday comes Tuesday. Tuesday, after school there was an under 16s hockey match, i was supposed to be playing but i made up something about having to babysit and went shopping instead. Now i wish i hadn't. A girl in the year above me (again, not one of my favourite people) managed to hospitalise a girl from the other team. It involved a clip hit, straight into the other player's face. If you don't play hockey, a clip hit is like this -

It completely knocked out the girl, as well as knocking out 4 of her teeth and breaking her nose. She left in an ambulance... most other players managed to get covered in her blood. Actually, maybe it was best that i wasn't there.

Ok, so yesterday's dramaticness will take a bit of explaining. You see, at my school there's this stupid rule - you aren't allowed to carry your school bag around with you. And our uniform doesn't really have any pockets. This means that people have to leave their valuable stuff in their lockers or in their school bags, in their form room. That's all very well, until someone starts stealing things. It started about 3 months ago, students were having money stolen but recently it's not only been students - teachers too and not only money - vouchers, phones and iPods as well. I've had £15 stolen - all my lunch money over a few weeks. £140 has been stolen from my form room alone and around £700 plus other things from around the school.
Some clever year 11s worked out that it probably wouldn't have been a student - it would be too hard for them to keep all this stolen stuff a secret from everyone else, there wasn't a single class that didn't have anything stolen and it couldn't have been a teacher, they'd be easy to spot on the CCTV (which is only in the corridors). Therefore, it was probably one of the cleaners. They told their suspicions to one of the teachers but the teachers decided it wasn't possible - they were still convinced it was a student. SO, one afternoon this week, Tuesday i think, they left a purse with money in on one of the desks whilst the class went to assembly, all of them except for one, who hid in the cupboard with her camera phone. She filmed the cleaner taking the money from the purse AND going through other people's bag looking for money. Then, on Wednesday lunchtime the police came and the cleaner was arrested. It was very exciting, everyone went down to watch and the teachers didn't even bother to shoo them away. Again, i missed this, i was... guess what? playing hockey. But i did get back in time to see everyone leaving and hear EVERYONE'S version of the story, some people insisting she stole £2000! (i said £700 because that's what the teachers told us).

The next (and last) DRAMATIC thing that happened was thismorning, as i was walking into school. All of a sudden, about 10 weeping, screaming year 8s barged past me, towards school. They were followed by my friend Nancy who grabbed me then shouted in my face "OHMYGOD!! JADE JUST GOT HIT BY A CAR". Ach. I have seen two car accidents in my life, both were horrible. The first involved a car and a motorbike and gave me awful nightmares for months. The second caused me to faint, whilst i was on a bus. I'm really not good with that sort of thing, so although Nancy tried to drag me back to see what had happened, i went into school and sat, waiting to hear what had happened. I didn't hear anything, until a few hours ago when i got a text saying that she's ok. I am relieved. I don't even like her that much, but i was worried about her.

Oh, and this isn't at all DRAMATIC but i feel the need to tell you - remember that Latin test i had a few weeks ago? no? i complained about it enough! Well i got it back today - i got 90% which i am VERY VERY happy with!

A Short Conversation With My Father

2010-03-06T16:14:00.004Z

Me (pointing to the front of this week's Radio Times): "Is that a sheep?"

Barry: "No. It's a lamb."

Me: "it doesn't look like a sheep"

Barry: "that's because it's a lamb"

Me (pointing again): "is that a woman?"

Barry: "No. It's Kate Humble."

Me: "It looks like a sheep."

Barry: "Yes. Yes it does... i can see how this is confusing stuff for someone like you."

Quite often, usually after I've done something like turned the grill on then put food in the oven and come back in an hour not understanding what happened, or walked directly into a lamppost, Barry will look at me for a long time, sigh, then say "If YOU are in the top 5% of the country, then i have serious concerns about the future of the UK"

Happy Birthday

2010-02-23T19:37:00.005Z

I'm bored.

Like really really bored, i've been feeling like this for the past two or three weeks. Nothing exciting has happened. I'd been looking forward to half term for ages and it wasn't that great.

It's not that i don't have enough to do, i have so much to do. I don't really have time to be writing this even, i do at least one thing everyday after school and almost every lunchtime in school. Then there's the extraordinary amount of homework and revision i've got, but i'm still feeling so completely useless.

I don't know... bored with life just sounds so dramatic and miserable, pretentious teenagerish... oh. um... yeah... moving swiftly on...

I'm just bored with what my life is at this moment.

I need something ELSE to do. But i don't really have much time. Every free moment i have recently seems to have been spent talking to the cat or drawing pictures of squirrels (yes, i've drawn a worrying amount of these).

There was a time, just under a year ago when twitter took up an awful lot of my brain space, arguably too much -i still like it, but it's not quite as good anymore, it really upsets me that some people don't talk to eachother anymore and some people have left twitter completely and some people i used to talk to loads have unfollowed me.

But I'm not just writing this to complain - and if i were you reading this i'd probably want to hit me for being selfish and stupid - no, i want your advice: I need something else to use up all the spare corners of my brain. Another hobby or something, something that doesn't take too much time and something that won't cause me to hate myself if i fail at it. something that helps someone else...? Or something that would be incredibly useful in my future...? Anything.

Musics

2010-02-15T19:23:00.003Z

Most mornings i am awake and often out of the house before my dad's alarm goes off, however, this week it's half term so i was still asleep when it went off, i was just a *little* alarmed to discover that it was this:

After a few more hours sleep , i started thinking about one of my favourite scenes from a film, which would be this:

i think that's all i have to say. oh, except that i really like this song now:

http://open.spotify.com/track/7nmArpOotJ431XYlJXI1vy

not something i'd usually listen to but today i took my wee cousin to the cinema (well, he was 11 last week), we were sitting in a rather horrible cafe drinking hot chocolate and talking about life and stuff and that song was playing.

Blue Peter (part 2)

2010-02-06T18:36:00.008Z

1) decide to make cakes. decide they will be amazing.

2) realise there is nothing to make cakes out of.

3) go to shop. get cold. run. hurt ankles. hobble.

4) do difficult calculations (58x3)

5) buy chocolate.

6) walk home. get shouted at by strange men in cars.

7)

8)

9) chop stuff up into little pieces.

10) MELT!

11) Mess.12) stir. (quite a lot of stirring required here)

13) Place in cases. Decorate!

14) eat!

The Science of The Combover

2010-02-04T20:39:00.005Z

A comb over or combover is a hairstyle worn by bald or balding men in which the hair on one side of the head is grown long and then combed over the bald area to minimize the display of baldness."

-----

"Peter's combover is back."

This sentence was said to me a while ago. It is, of course, referring to my Uncle Peter. A few months ago he got rid of his combover. We had a party. He no longer looked like a paedophile.

"oh dear"

However, i am beginning to wonder HOW it "came back"?!

I don't know a lot about old men's hair, in fact, i try to avoid thinking about it at all costs, but surely you don't just wake up one morning, look in the mirror and think "goodness me, i have a combover".

This has got me think about the transitional stage from no combover to combover...

It must take a fair few months to grow hair long enough to go right over the head and cover the bald bit. How often do you see a man with a bald patch on top, very short hair one side of their head and long hair on the other side?

Or do you grow it both sides with a bald patch in the middle so you look like you have hairy spaniel ears for a while?

But then, once you've got this particularly ridiculous hairstyle, what do you do with it every morning? You brush it all down one side of your face, then... sort of... FLOP...? Do you have to straighten it first, with GHDs?

What is the problem with just being bald? Are you worried about your head getting cold, is that it? If so, why not wear a hat? You are essentially, creating your own hat out of the hair still attached to your head. That's like making a pair of trousers out of your own leg hair or shoes made from your toenails... (yes, i am also feeling a bit sick thinking about that. sorry.)

And then, what about standing in a strong wind?

How many times have you been watching the news when a presenter is standing in front of that big sign at Scotland Yard or something, telling you about a terrible murder case or something equally as serious whilst their hair is doing it's only little dance? IT'S DISTRACTING.

What about running for a bus? First thing in the morning.... you're going to have to spend the rest of the day looking like this:

That is, if you're a wizard.

And what about when it's sunny? Do you get a strange striped tan pattern on the top of your head? Do you put suncream on UNDER the hair???

The more i think about them, the most questions pop into my head!

But i must stop now, before i go a little mad.

SO, in conclusion:

The Combover - Just Don't.

This Terrified Look...

2010-02-02T20:36:00.005Z

Parents evening. The most dreaded evening of the year?

The one time when the people who boss you about and constantly tell you you're not good enough at school meet those who boss you about and constantly tell you you're not good enough at home.

Teachers have 5 minutes to sum up a whole year of hard work and not so hard work and too short skirts and make-up and too much talking and not enough talking and staring into space and missing maths books and "disappointing" test scores and non existent pieces of homework and "target minimum grades"... how are you supposed to express all that in 5 minutes?! actually... i'll take that back, i've managed to express it all in 1 paragraph.

However, i have learnt that most teachers chose to ignore these subjects completely, instead they like to bring up "issues" that really, don't need to be brought up in front of my parents. They just do it because they assume you aren't going to shout at them and leave the room when you're sitting next to your parents. Cowardly Idiots.

Our first appointment was with my Latin teacher, Miss C who is so delightfully mental, i
think probably deserves a blogpost of her own. Well today she suggested i learn Romanian... ?!! i'm having enough trouble with Spanish and French and Latin as it is thank you... i don't know any Romanian people. i'm not even that sure where Romania is?...

oh. there it is.

anyway, where was i?

Oh yes.

There did seem to be a "theme" running through all of the teacher's opinions of me.

"this terrified look"...

"she sits there silently, looking completely terrified or staring into space."

At least 3 of my teachers said those EXACT words.

Maybe the staring into space bit is true, and the silent bit. But i don't look terrified, this is my normal facial expression. Do i look permanently petrified?

Also, i am pretty sure a teacher shouldn't describe a student as "a panicky little bundle of nerves". Even if it IS true...

Another thing i learnt today is that my English teacher actually spies on me. He mentioned a conversation he overheard me having with my friend at the train station yesterday morning. He really shouldn't have been listening should he?

I'm not going to complain though, he was one of the two teachers who said something vaguely nice about me. He said i was the best student in year 9 with A-level knowledge of English. And that was the first time my mother has been proud of me in about 3 years. And that was nice.

Was there a point to this blog? Have i made it yet? Who knows...

Strange Men (again)

2010-01-31T16:52:00.005Z

If you've followed me on Twitter for a while, or if you know me in real life, you'll probably know that it doesn't take a lot to scare me/make me very very paranoid.

Last Saturday i was standing outside Waitrose in Lymington, waiting for my parents to finish shopping. I was listening to my iPod, staring into space and trying not to notice how cold it was (i'd been an idiot and not worn a coat).

I watch a man come out of the shop, stare at me then disappear back into Waitrose. This was weird, but i forgot about it, he probably forgot something and was staring at me in a sort of "she must be mad, she's not wearing a coat, she'll probably get pneumonia and die" sort of way.

Then, about 10 minutes later, the man comes back out of the shop, hands me a bunch of pretty white flowers and says "these are because you're so beautiful" then quickly walks away.

Is there anything much more terrifying than that?? I was scared and embarrassed, apparently i went red. I never go red, not when i'm embarrassed, not when i've run 1500m, never! The last time my face was any colour other than it's normal pale yellowish, i had scarlet fever.

My parents thought it was hilarious, i didn't.

WHY?! i'm most definitely not beautiful (i'm actually having problems spelling beautiful - that's right... yes?) i'm not going to say i'm ugly because i'm scared about getting hit round the face with a dead fish. But i am.

The man was about 40... he was with his wife! (i assume she was his wife).

Why did he do that?? Is he some sort of mental person? Was is a cruel joke? Is he a spy?!

The flowers were pretty though.

Most of them have died now, but i've put the still alive ones in an improvised "vase".

I'm not complaining. I just want answers.

La familia de Hedgehog

2010-01-16T14:16:00.005Z

My old people have been round this weekend. And some other members of my family who aren't that old.

My old people live in THE WEST. This is a slightly terrifying place where i am forced to spend at least 4 weeks a year.

Slightly off the subject, but here is a fact for you about THE WEST, i once phoned into BCR (bridgwater community radio) to answer a question for a competition and the host laughed at me because of my "posh London accent". Grrr.

Anyhoo, i thought i'd share with you some of the best things my family have said this weekend.

My Grandmother:

on Geoff Lloyd talking about sniffing celebrities: "ooh, what an odd man, is he a little backward?... should he be allowed on the radio?"

on an ancient clothes shop in West Wickham called Marianne: "i bought a cardigan in there in 1942. It smelt of pickle."

on driving past a house in West Wickham: "that was where old Pam used to live, her daughter Helen had triplets. 3 little boys, ugly little bastards they were. She wasn't the best person to have triplets, right strange thing, i once saw her in the bakers wearing blue tights and black shoes... still, she must have been quite fertile..."

on a man walking along on the pavement: "that man thinks he's a bicycle". she didn't elaborate.

My uncle Steve, pointing at the plum tart we had for pudding: "i'll have a slice of the aubergine quiche, oh yes i shall." pointing at the custard, "and i'll have some of that cottage cheese with it too, yes i shall. smashing!" (i think he was doing his impression of Prince Philip)

My Aunt, talking about the new person at work "i don't think she likes me much, i didn't mean to give her a dirty look, she just wasn't what i expected, i'd only seen her sitting down before - she was shorter when she was standing up and her face doesn't look anything like the back of her head."

I also learnt that my great uncle Peter (who i don't think has left THE WEST in the last 20 years" honestly believes that "those fucking Polish job-stealers" go to ASDA after 5:30 on a Thursday evening and get EVERYTHING for free. I don't know why he thinks this, but sometimes he sits in ASDA car park of a Thursday evening looking for "foreign looking people" and shouting at them.

Another thing i learnt was that my very very posh great aunt and uncle, have 6 freezers in their garage where they keep the meat they've bought, because they like to go to the farm and buy a whole cow, a whole sheep and 6 chickens every 2 months and freeze them. WEEIIRD.

My Grandad is the best for saying odd things, my favourite thing that he ever said was last Christmas, my grandparents had bought everyone pyjamas for Christmas, except for my aunt (their daughter-in-law) who they bought knickers for. She opened them, looked at them and said "oh thank you, their just the type that i wear." to which my grandad replied "yes, i know, that's why i chose them". My aunt still insists that was one of the most disturbing moments of her life.

Just before i end this, here's Stephanie fact for you:

There are about 4 members of my family who call me Eel Pie. I'll bake some Dalek biscuits for the first person who can work out why :-)

A Thousand Splendid Suns

2010-01-09T14:18:00.005Z

A few of my favourite things in the world include making people laugh and recommending something to people then finding out that they loved it as much as i did... whether it's music or a film or a book or food, i don't care it's just a great feeling!

Whilst i was on holiday last year, diving and whatnot, i read a book. It's not the the sort of book i'd normally read, some of you have probably read it because it claims to be "The Richard & Judy Number One Bestseller". It's called A Thousand Splendid Suns and it is horrible.

Ok, it's not horrible, it's beautiful, but in some ways it's like an episode of Casualty, in that everything that could possible go wrong for the poor characters, does go wrong.

I'm not really selling it to you am i?

It's by Khaled Hosseini - he wrote The Kite Runner.

It's one of the few books where i've cried whilst reading it. I told my dad to read it, he finished reading it today and although he didn't cry (i don't think he's ever cried - even when his mother died, he didn't cry) i could tell that he was sad.

It's not exactly a true story, but it's not exactly made up either... does that make sense?

The characters are made up but the other things that happen, did actually happen/are still happening.

It's about two women, Mariam and Laila who live in Afghanistan, they do lots of things... mostly it's about war and the Taliban and friendship and love and all that sort of stuff.

As you'll know from my previous attempts at reviewing things - i'm not very good at it.

Basically, i think you should read it. you can borrow my copy of it if you want... as long as you don't spill beer all over it (which is what happened last time i lent somebody a book).

Oh, and listen to my playlist: Saturday

GCSEs and knickers and drugs and stuff

2010-01-08T21:30:00.005Z

The things that have mainly been in my brain today -

GCSEs
Knickers
Drugs.

I shall explain.

I started the day in a rather worrying way. Woke up with an awful headache, took what i thought was paracetamol, only it wasn't - twas co-codamol. Which my mother was given when she fractured her back (just to give you an idea of how strong they are).

After realising my mistake, i didn't want to concern my parents, so i told twitter. Lovely twitter, who then went on telling me things like "eat something sugary!", "drink loads of water!" and my favourite - "i did that once, i was in hospital for weeks!". yeah... thanks for that.

I ignored all of you. I went to school and tried to forget about it. This didn't last for long as i soon found myself running to the toilets to be sick... My lovely friends standing behind me, looking slightly horrified and asking me if i am pregnant.

I soon got over all of that and despite my friends' best efforts, refused to go home (the lady in the office hates me - i avoid her at all costs).

I fell asleep in Geography. Nobody woke me.

At break i ate a bread roll and a banana yoghurt and then felt completely better. And my headache had gone!

Knickers. Today in school, i looked over at my friend Nancy, she looked uncomfortable.

"are you ok?" says i

"no, i'm far too hot."

"but it's cold in here?!"

"i'm wearing far too many clothes... (i have 4 pairs of knickers on)"

After nearly wetting myself laughing, i asked her why,

"because of the snow. THE SNOW"

"take your jumper off then... and maybe one or two pair of pants?"

"ok."

when i said that, i didn't expect her to do it then and there. in our English lesson.

A talent that all girls i know have is the ability to take items of clothing off in completely the wrong order. So i wasn't THAT surprised.

However, i was surprised when minutes later, Nancy looked at me again,

"Stephanie, what do i do with these pairs of knickers?"

"Erm... put them in your pocket?"

"don't have a pocket."

"pencil case."

"don't have a pencil case.

*silence*

can i put them in your pencil case?"

"NO!".

I don't know how she managed it, but next lesson i went to get my pen out and found 2 pairs of Nancy's knickers.

My pencil case has been contaminated.

And finally... GCSEs. This isn't amusing at all. not one little bit. It's terrifying.

I have to know what i want to study for GCSEs by next week and it seems that EVERYONE i speak to has their own idea of what i should do.

I'm so confused.

So you have to do English, English lit. IT, RS and Maths and double science.

I have to do Engineering (counts for 2 GCSEs) and Latin.

Then i have 3 to choose. Anything i like...

I'd decided on French, Art and Music.

But my mother has decided that i have to do history.

So it was French, Art and history.

But then my piano teacher decided i have to do music.

So it was French, history and music.

But then my father has told me he wants me to do art.

So it was Art, history and music.

But now EVERYONE is telling me that it's useful to learn a language.

I'm so confused. I'm doing 13 GCSEs as it is. Now my parents are trying to arrange for me to do the ones i want to do but can't do in school, out of school. My little head is going to explode. very soon.

A Really Long Blog For A Really Long Year.

2009-12-31T12:28:00.004Z

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.

2009-12-20T22:58:00.005Z

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

2009-12-12T21:42:00.003Z

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)

2009-12-06T21:29:00.003Z

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

2009-12-06T15:32:00.005Z

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,,,

2009-11-29T11:54:00.008Z

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

2009-11-27T19:16:00.004Z

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...

2009-11-14T21:59:00.012Z

"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.

2009-11-09T20:01:00.002Z

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

2009-11-07T12:34:00.009Z

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.

2009-10-19T17:25:00.005+01:00

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

2009-10-10T21:21:00.002+01:00

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?

2009-10-09T18:44:00.003+01:00

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:

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.
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.
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".
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.
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.
I fell over in assembly. Not just IN assembly but standing at the front, collecting some trophy thing. Again, people laughed.
I was Macbeth. Not the whole play, just the character.
I cut my hand in chemistry. Mr Mathews put not 1, not two but THREE plasters on it!
A really old lady swore at me.
My piano teacher did an impression of what an elephant would look like if it sneezed.
I ate a slice of pizza upside down.
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...

2009-09-26T07:50:00.003+01:00

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

2009-09-24T21:50:00.006+01:00

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.

2009-09-22T19:48:00.009+01:00

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

2009-09-13T21:50:00.007+01:00

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.

Nearly Fatal Crumpet Eating.

2009-09-04T19:29:00.005+01:00

Last thursday, i went to the hometime show on Absolute radio with Joel. We saw Geoff and lot of other people. It was exciting. I could write a blog about that. But i won't. Although i had a completely lovely time, i think i shall tell you about the catastrophic consequences.

There were a lot of us in the studio, you can see in that picture...

I was sitting beside a man. I er... can't remember his name (sorry, man). But he was explaining to Geoff why he was unhealthy. (i think that's something he knows about - he wasn't just being rude).

He mentioned the fact that eating breakfast is important. I hardly ever eat breakfast, at least not before about 2ish. So a few mornings ago, i thought "right. today, i will eat breakfast, then for the rest of the day, i will be happy and energetic and wonderful"

I decided that toast is a normal thing to have for breakfast. (My favourite toast-topping is peanut butter and hot mango pickle, just to let you know). Anyway, because my family are useless, there was no bread.

Instead, i rooted round in the freezer and found some crumpets.
So for breakfast i had a crumpet with marmite.

As i took a bite, i sneezed. Causing me to choke on what i was eating and cough rather a lot. My sneezing-choking-coughing-crumpet eating resulted in marmite-y crumpet coming out of my nose. If you've ever had food go the wrong way and come out of your nose, you will know that it hurts, a lot. And because this is me we are talking about, and bad luck seems to be attracted to me, i then proceeded to have a nosebleed.

All in all, it was disgusting.

You didn't need to know that did you?

No. Well, it happened. So deal with it.

Anyway, therefore, breakfast is evil. It makes you bleed.

That is all.

School and Other Horrors.

2009-09-04T17:21:00.006+01:00

"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.)