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

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*

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"

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"Umm.... a pony?"

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

"in the shed?"

"Think of something else, something sensible."

"A puppy?"

"No, we have four cats"

"A kitten?"

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

"ferret?"

"No."

"Chickens?"

"NO!"

"Geese?"

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

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

"FINE." *leaves room*

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

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

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

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

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

I don't want it.

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

"no, this means a lot to your mother"

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

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

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

I Have Fingerprints On My Glasses.

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

Desk

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

A Letter To Someone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x

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

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

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

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

Here are some examples from recently-

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

Builders arguing about sand = more interesting than graphics.

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

Caretakers moving wheelie bins around = more interesting than IT.

Squirrel looking puzzled = more interested than French.

Blades of grass = more interesting than maths.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's my name?"

"Caroline, of course!"

"No, it isn't"

"oh... what is it?"

"Stephanie"

"Can i call you Caroline?"

"I'd rather if you didn't"

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

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

"mm... thank you."

"Do you enjoy your name?"

"errr..."

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

"well, thank you."

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

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

Like a magpie, I live for glitter not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Ain't Afraid Of No Ghosts

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.

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.

Happy Birthday Princess Anne

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

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

"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...

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

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

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)