Panic.

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. 

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."

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...?

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)