For What It's Worth...

Sorry about the title name. I couldn't think of a short or catchy title so I just stole the name of a Placebo song from their amazing new album. Seriously, I wasn't sure if I should buy it or not so I did because I love Brian Molko and it had good reviews in both Kerrang! and NME and you know what, I haven't regretted buying it at full price once. It was totally worth it!

Anyway, back to my original story for you all. It all began yesterday morning... *drifts and swirls into flashback...*

I was stood in Ammanford bus station at around 09.43 holding in my hand four plastic spoons, one low fat raspberry yogurt costing 32p and one hazelnut yogurt costing 50p. I'd been waiting for a bus for around fifteen minutes and I had expected Cerian to be sat on the bus that pulled up in front of me, but she wasn't and that just made me really confused. Everyone passed me to get on the bus whilst I looked around frantically. Then I saw her reflection wandering around looking confused, as usual. We quickly joined forced and jumped on the bus - I still can't believe that the price has gone up from £2.50 to £2.75, I remember when they were well cheap.

We started off going to Topshop and were shocked that a majority of the stuff was either £50 or £32, although a lot of the accessories were either £9 or £12, which isn't actually bad considering how good the stuff is and to be fair, Topshop has got good quality. Realising we're far too poor to shop there, we made a hasty retreat and went to Accessorize instead. Cerian bought a phone charm whilst telling me about her Alice in Wonderland themed Mad Hatter tea party that she's doing for her birthday in November, and I bought a bunny rabbit mask for £3 whilst falling in love with a keyring that I could've bought, but didn't because I already have so many and I don't have many keys to put them with. We then popped to Primark (shock shock horror, I know!) and then we both bought a pair of £1 sunglasses (Cerian has pink thick plastic frames and I have white thick plastic frames), and I bought a silky £3 red nightie. I looked for a corset, but could only find 'shapewear' ones, which start as a bra and go down to knicks, like what babies wear. Needless to say, I didn't get it. I have a corset now, but the bra part doesn't fit me so it doesn't boost me up. (There's a nice image for you!) We went to His Master's Voice then, and I bought Biffy Clyro's 'Singles 2001 - 2005' and 3oh!3's 'Want' and Cerian bought Katy Perry's amazing 'One of the Boys' (I want to be more like Katy Perry...).

We then popped to Schuh, and there was this well hot guy looking in our direction, shadowing us. I was looking at these amazing Nikes which cost £55, he could probably tell that I was going to buy them, but it was such a lot of money to spend in one go and I'd never bought shoes on my own. We went and bought some food (which ended up so insane and embarrassing that we had to make yet another hasty retreat), I got a text from Mother confirming that I should buy them and then we traipsed up to a hole in the wall to get £20 out of the bank. We took a quick detour to Derrik's Music (where I would love love love to work) and Hobo's, then went back to Schuh and to our horror, the same amazingly hot guy was shadowing us. I picked up the same pair of shoes that I'd been perving on for ages, and when I saw the guy approaching, I stared at the shoes wishing he'd walk past, and when he asked if we were okay, Cerian grabbed the shoe, shoved it in his direction and yelled, "Can we have this is in a size seven please?" He came back with two pair of shoes and said, "Hi, yeah. We don't have a size seven, but here's the size six and the size eight pair." Then I had the moment which I hate so much that it causes a lump in my throat and my face to go red; I had to try them on with the guy stood there. I clumsily and slowly tried the six on and declared them far too small, which I knew they'd be anyway. Then I tied the eights on and silently cursed myself the whole time because I could feel them watching me and I was having problems with putting them on. I said I'd buy them and he muttered something that both of us didn't hear before walking off whilst I struggled to put my Converse back on. Confused, Cerian and I strolled over to the counter and he walked past us and mumbled something else. We both nodded and smiled then looked at each other dazed, he could tell that we hadn't heard so he pointed at the counter and told us to go to the till. So like two obedient fangirls, we did. The woman lent over the counter and said "Nikes?" but I had no idea what she said because she pronounced it so that it rhymed with Mike, unlike when I pronounce it. I'm one of the idiots that say it so that it rhymes with Mickey you see. When she said it again, I went "Oh!" and nodded. I then paid and made a hasty retreat for the third time that day.

Cerian seemed to be in a weird mood that day, so I felt really bad because I'd spent so much money when she'd only had £12 for the whole trip. We caught the bus at 14.31 (which is super early) and it said it went from Swansea to Llandeilo through Ammanford which meant it also went through Llandybie, which is the name of the lifeless shit hole that I live. The bus got to Ammanford, everyone got off except for me, Cerian jumped on a bus which went straight to Brynaman and the bus driver said, "Where you going love?" I walked up to him and said, "Doesn't this bus still go to Llandeilo?" (I'm a typical woman see, I answer questions with questions.) The driver said, "No love, this bus goes straight back to Swansea. Where do you live?" I told him that I live in Llandybie and he typed up something on his pad before telling me, "The next bus to Llandybie goes from that stop in half an hour." I said thank you and made my fourth and final hasty retreat of the day. I did my coat up, put my hood up and put my Jarvis playlist on. (It's called that because he's amazing and the playlist is both his solo work and Pulp.) I had decided to walk because it takes me thirty to forty minutes to walk so it seemed pointless to wait that long for a bus.

The pavement was icy and I had a slight difficulty breathing, due to a mixture of asthma which only plays up when I haven't got my pump on me, the cold since it doesn't go well when you breathe through your mouth like I do and my paranoia about breathing really loudly so that everyone else can hear and I don't know because I'm listening to my iPod. Yes I know, that last one is weird and as a result, I hold my breath on the bus when we go over speed bumps. My favourite part of the walk was when I reached Bonllwyn and 'Big Julie' was playing. It's about some fat girl who is always alone and she's so moved by this one song that she's playing that she just stops caring and realizes the shallowness and hypocrisy of the world surrounding her. Seriously, YouTube 'Big Julie Jarvis Cocker' because it's such an uplifting sounding song, and the lyrics are uplifting too, you should Google them. You don't need to know the tune to appreciate how amazing a lyricist Jarvis is, his narratives are second to none, not even Ryan Ross could compete. I might post the lyrics up here one day... Just the way that the drums pick up in the chorus and you can feel it all build, it made me want to throw myself in front of a car whilst screaming in defiance, just like 'Tonight, Tonight' by The Smashing Pumpkins made me want to cry and scream, and 'This Charming Man' by The Smiths made me want to smash all the glass in the bus up whilst screaming. When you get a feeling as powerful as that, you know that song has changed you. Like Chuck Palahniuk's character Shannon McFarland from Invisible Monsters wrote: Nothing Of Me Is Original. I Am The Combined Effort Of Everybody I've Ever Known. I also passed Angharad Dymond who's in my form and is really pretty, she waved which made my insides feel happy. I like it when people acknowledge me outside school.

Nothing really happened after that though. I arrived safely, virginity intact! xD

In Which I Miss My Abi...

My History buddy was auditioning for Wells today (and got in), and I had double History. So that's two hours of History without my right-hand man. Then Jayde (some flat nosed bitch) started having a fit behind me and Kieran and her trousers were making the most annoying scratching noise on the chair that I nearly flew across the table and punched her in the face. I did make myself giggle though, when I said to Kieran "In those days, rich people had balls." I found it highly amusing, Mr Moses' face didn't. Biology was hideous, Owen was throwing a Westlake because he apparently had a shitty result, even though it was higher than Guy's, Scot's and mine. I think it got him a grade B. I only had 50% and than got me a grade C. I had an E or a D in my last mock and without any revision, I got an A in the real GCSE exam. Therefore mocks are crap. Chemistry was boring; just copied Owen's GCSE practical exam results and Scot's GCSE practical exam results even though I haven't done it. They have no proof either way! Welsh was horrible. We had a substitute teacher, Owen (who by now was in a better mood) and I were having a laugh and Rhydian was being highly amusing. I had a huge slip up when George was nice to me and I shouted for him to Shut Up. Oops... Then at the end of the lesson, Calum asked if I had sunburn on my cheeks because I was blushing so much, and Owen said that it was because I'd spoken briefly to Meh (obviously Owen used his real name). Calum laughed and said that he understood, Meh's a powerful man and he has that effect on him. Calum had spent the whole lesson bullying my pen... Walking home feeling dizzy, sick and light-headed, I listened to Burn Halo. Then I made myslef a milkshake and downed half of it before it registered that the milk was gone off. That was just the tip of the ice berg. I went to bed at just gone 5pm and woke up at 7pm.

Cat Lady

At roughly 15.30, I was laying on the three seater couch wearing baggy jeans, a black vest top, my lapis American Apparel zip-up with a white zip, a size twenty-two brown acrylic jumper thing from Peacocks, a white bra, red pants, no socks and uggs. Home alone, I was catching up with my programmes on Sky+ Planner (I had two Glees and two America's Next Top Models to watch), when looking out the window I caught a glimpse of two eyes staring straight back at me. These were the eyes of next door's semi-pedigree Norwegian Forest (ridiculously) called Tiny Tim. (I say ridiculously because it's a girl.) This is around the sixth time we've caught her sitting outside our window. She's sixth months old, has no collar and is adorable.

Here's some background history:

My next door neighbour seems to care little for her pets, her husband does take care of the dog though, and she breeds them all. She bred their Labrador Retriever (and sold the last of the litter today as I found out when her husband invited me in to see the Andrex puppy after I delivered Tiny Tim back to them) and she breeds their Norwegian Forest cats (one of which is Santi's mother). The cats are always roaming the street and I believe one of them haven't returned, but twice the cat that she was making a profit from has gotten out and become pregnant with a stray cat, so she doesn't advertise them in case it devalues the price of the next litter. Both Santi and Tiny Tim fall under this category.

So I shut Santi, Floss and Mary out and brought Tiny Tim in. I fed her and watched her roam around the room persistently. At one point, she got stuck between a wicker cabinet and a miniature bookshelf in the corner due to her cute kitten curiosity, so I had to lift her out. Eventually she calmed down and fell asleep on the couch whilst I watched both her and Glee. Then at about 17.00, Mother and Grandpa came in. They'd spoken to the husband of the woman next door and he said that they'd have to get her done anyway and that then we could have her, but Tiny Tim did not get on with the dogs at all and then Santi was being friendly and Tiny Tim just threw it back in his face. It turns out that the woman next door has already put Tiny Tim up for sale in the vet and she wouldn't have given her to us anyway because she wants to make a profit.

What you need to understand though us that I don't have a problem with giving a cat back to it's owner, I just have a problem with giving a cat back to an owner who doesn't care about it time after time after time. I felt like a charity worker to be honest, looking after a kitten that's come from an uncaring home. I'm going to become the scary cat lady that feeds stray cats and leaves a bowl of Iams and Whiskers outside the door every night.

I doubt any sane person will love me then!

Speculation...

The topics in which I am going to discuss shall include both things with and without a pulse. The things with a pulse are Rhodri, Santi and a guy; the things without a pulse are my Chemistry and Art exam. I'll apologize in advance about the length of this post, but it is only five paragraphs (not including this brief introduction) and Abi will be chuffed because she's been name dropped a few times! (Bless her...) For some strange reason, I know you guys will read this anyway.

i. Rhodri.

I met Rhodri (Mr Abi Hammett) on Saturday. Abi stayed over on Friday and we watched a gay film, an extra from the Mighty Boosh and some Drew from So You Think You Can Dance. She then introduced me to the possibility of meeting her man and I wasn't sure if I was allowed by him, if I was going to feel like a spare limb or if it was really acceptable. After much deliberation, I went. Here's my final judgement - he's a tall, intelligent A-level student who has a twisted yet hilarious sense of humour and is very lucky to find someone like Abi. Overall, that's an appropriate judgement for one of my three best friend's man. I speculate that they should last a VERY long time, if not until one of them dies...

ii. Santi.

This isn't such a lovely topic. Santi is my cat and we've known him since he was born as he was born next door. We have a special bond that's hard to explain, but I value him like I would my child. The other day he appeared disheveled and was limping, he couldn't get up of down any surfaces. We just thought he'd caught his foot badly in Mary's cage since he sleeps in a basket on top of it. Then he wouldn't eat and slept far more than he usually does. He became withdrawn and started spending hours upon hours under my bed, refusing to come out to eat or use the litter. These, as I have researched, are all signs of depression in cats and can be caused by a change of mod or routine in the household/owner. Lately I've been depressed (at home) and have also been sleeping around twelve hours a day, so hopefully this will brush off once I'm back to my usual self. I speculate that he's depressed...

iii. Meh.

I think that only Abi knows who Meh is, but for those who don't, he's a guy that I really like. Last year, I freaked out whenever a desirable male spoke to me - I'd hide my face uncontrollably, tell them to shut up and make weird noises due to my awkward nature. This year I'm trying to stop that, and in RE today, I actually spoke to him for a bit. Then I started freaking out again and told him about how I was trying not to but he was making it hard by patronizing me and my art. He's lovely mind... I asked him if he remembered what I told him when we were waiting for our Oral exam and he said "What, that you can't talk to guys unless their ogres?" and I nodded. Then there was Charli who was chatting away to all the guys without a problem. She's been in a relationship for around fifteen months now, and she's so beautiful, yet she doesn't even seem dazed by really adorable guys talking to her. I'm envious in a completely new way! I reminded Meh that I sat next to him last year and he reminded me that I never spoke to him, to which I replied that he never spoke to me either. He said that he was shy because he didn't want me to think he was a freak, and I just pointed at my face and went "EH!" hinting that that's still the case with me. He told me I shouldn't be shy, but me being a girl has over thought this and now come up with a fairy tale in her head. I speculate that nothing will ever happen, because I'm simply not compatible with anybody that I like...

iv. Chemistry.

This morning, after forgetting my headphones and mirror, having nobody to talk to on the bus and then verbally abusing two of my three best friends, I had my Chemistry GCSE resit. To be honest, it was far easier than the first one and I'd finished it in around half the designated time. I then counted up the marks that I definitely had and I now know that i have at least 50% which is a good, solid base. The easiness of the exam left me in a better mood which meant my day was automatically better. I speculate that I did better than the C that I received in August...

v. Art.

After my exam I made my way to Art, where I received my exam paper. You get six weeks to do preparation work in a new book since, like in Business, it counts as a new unit, and then you have two days in which you have to make your final outcome in the maximum time of ten hours. There were thirty tasks and five themes to choose from, so I narrowed it down to two themes (Appearances and Precious), and one task (Hobbies and Pastimes). I then discussed it with Meh who didn't take Art, and we narrowed it down to just Precious, so that's my chosen theme. I have already done the front cover, written a rough copy of my brief and done the outline of a mindmap, so I think I'm already ahead a little bit and will therefore not fall behind. I'm not sure if I continue on forth with my theme until she's approved of it, so I'll talk to her again tomorrow. I'm chuffed I can work in an A4 book again, instead of the A3 ones. She said that if you miss one of the deadlines, your teacher will phone home or your parents workplace if they're not there. I speculate that I'll pass Art with a C and that my exam unit will be better than my previous two units...

Mocks (Plus Two Externals)

Okay... so this week's been all about exams, exams and even more exams. Some real, some mock, and some just tiny life tests. We'll be conformist and start with Monday, I wouldn't want to be responsible for any exploding heads out there!

Okay, so Monday I had my mock Welsh exam in the morning, in which I'm sat at a desk for two hours with an exam in front of me filled with words that I very rarely understand. However, in the time that I spent being bored, I wrote a monologue about a ginger. Good times. Next, I had my real AS resit of Critical Thinking. I wanted to do really well, but my mind wasn't up for any form of preparation so I just reminded myself that I'd already had a C in it and that if I failed it this time, I've still technically passed. The room was particularly freezing, but the invigilator was a bit dull and made a few mistakes: she told us that it's good to make mistakes in our mocks because then we won't make mistakes in the real deal, she let us keep our coats on even though we're not allowed under strict rules and she gave us our question paper but not our source paper, so the first question began with 'In paragraph 1, what is...' and we had no clue as to what it meant. For some reason, when I sat down to sit the exam, tears came to my face and I had to hold it in. I finished half an hour early and therefore think I failed properly this time.

After my twelve hours of sleep, I was downstairs at 7am and reading through my Rural Protest booklet for my History exam which I had that very morning. If you didn't realise, it's now Tuesday. History was horrible, just as I had expected it to be. (How some people have taken it further I have no idea.) Popular Protest (Henry Hunt, Radicals, etc...) was the compulsory section, and I chose to do the Merthyr Rising (Dic Penderin, etc...) instead of Rural Protest (Rebecca Riots) for no other reason than the questions looked easier. The Crime And Policing section was horrible though, and I completely failed it. I could've used my cripple time, but I chose not to because I had no idea what I was writing anyway. Next were Biology and Chemistry, which should've been easy apart from the fact that I hadn't been taught any of it. I guess I was meant to teach myself, but I go to school to learn and that's why the teachers get paid. The invigilator stopped the Biology exam five minutes too soon as well, which really irked a few of my friends. I was glad though - I'd done enough time sat on my arse being bored. I sat a different paper to them obviously, I'm not uber arrogant!

Next on the agenda was my Business exam, which was a real exam. I woke up early and wrote down some formulae that I might need to learn (Acid Test Ratio, Return on Capital Employed, Net Cash Flow, etc...), this would turn out to be a complete waste of time since they only asked one formula question and we only had to substitute the values. I got on the bus, after a fat girl at my bus stop was ranting about how she wishes the bus would break down on the way. I had to remind her that some people have to be in school anyway to sit real exams, so she should stop being selfish. Nevertheless she probably bitched about me to her other fat friend who use to be my 'friend'. We were the only school in Carmarthenshire that was open, and as soon as we all got off the bus, we were herded into the hall like sheep because it was snowing. Ashley sat by me and we spoke, this was a nice surprise that Abi missed. Obviously, the school decided that everyone should go home and the buses turned around and delivered the children to their designated stops. Except for us Business pupils. We had to sit in a near-empty school and sit the easiest exam known to man. There was even a mistake in the paper, which everyone across the country who was sitting the exam had to correct. It said '£700 per month', when it should've said '£700 per dress', and we had to comment on how it would effect the break-even. After that, Dad drove Jonathan home and then I had permission to nap in my parents bed. I was 'napping' for seven hours.

Today should've been horrible, but it wasn't. I woke up uber early after having a nightmare, then woke up uber late after going back to sleep. I had eight minutes to get from being naked in bed, to being fully presentable on the bus. I did my make-up in the bus station while fat girl and her little unfat sister watched. Ashley came over to talk to me again, which was lovely, and although I nearly died on the ice, I never actually capsized. Loads of people had their Biology resits, so I didn't have an exam in the morning since I had an A in that. In the afternoon, I had my calculator Math exam. I suck at the calculator paper, and although I had all day to revise, I didn't. It wasn't awful, but I did miss out a whole page. I'm in the middle of top set, so I'm hoping to at least scrape at least a C on that one. I'll justify myself with the non-calculator paper hopefully, but that's scheduled for next Tuesday.

Tomorrow I have Physics and RE, both forty-five minutes long, and then that's it until next week. I probably won't blog about tomorrow, as it looks like it's going to be pretty uneventful. I was going to add something about the Brown's latest newcomers, and no it's not a baby because that would be physically impossible. However, I won't bore you much longer. So that's it for now... Toodles! x

Oops I Did It Again!

Okay, so my sister use to say I was 'really flirty' and that I 'gave out the wrong messages' (and you should know that that's a joke coming from someone like her). I use to protest and be really offended because to be honest, nothing like that ever crossed my mind. I was just having fun and guys are a lot better company, especially when they're highly desirable! xD

Anyway though, as I've gotten older, I've started noticing this as well. Sometimes I do it just because I'm bored! I meet someone that I think is lovely (and not always in the desirable way), and then I'll cling to them, and compliment them about ridiculous and mundane things. Then, they get the wrong impression for obvious reasons, and I find someone new to cling to! I don't mean to, but I do. Maybe I'll end up like Jeffrey Dahmer and start trying to make human zombies because I don't want them to leave... I hope not. I don't want to be comparable to a homosexual serial killer that was beaten to death in prison by a black man because most of his victims were of the African origin! That is not how I want to be remembered!

So yeah, please God - forgive me for my sins!; please future partners - don't get too involved or I'll move on quicker than you could ever imagine; please readers - you must understand that I'm a Scorpio with too big a heart! <3

Karma =)

This is so amazing, that instead of wasting time by re-telling the story to everyone, I'm simply going to blog about it!

Dad was being a bitch in the corner whilst playing the Sims 3 on the computer. He was screaming and shouting about how much he hates a lamp, has always hated the lame and always will hate the lamp. It 'hurts his eyes' even though it's only a 15W, and it shines off the computer screen. (He's always over-sensitive to lights and it's really annoying.) Anyway, he was going on and on about it to Mother and she was trying to help but he was shouting more and more. Then the Sims 3 randomly closed itself down! He hadn't saved it for hours! Talk about instant karma! I had to hide the laughter though, nobody dares laugh at Mr Jason Brown's ill-luck! xD

Universities

Earlier on, I was tidying my room and came across the three University prospectuses that Mother had sent off for me. (They're for the University of Gloustershire, the University of York and the University of Swansea.) Bored, I sat down and started browsing the contents pages of the courses and thinking about which ones interested me and would benefit me.

The University of York was the first one that I looked upon and to great disappointment. Yes, Psychology was in there, but only Psychology. No Clinical Psychology, no Occupational Psychology, and more importantly, no Criminal Psychology. You can only do Psychology, and it's not even a joint degree. It has amazing grades and is in the top ten schools for Psychology, but I'd honestly prefer to specialise. Y'know?

The University of Gloustershire was amazing. It had Psychology as a joint degree, and when it said the other available courses to go with it, it had Creative Writing, Criminology and Sociology. Now, one must admit when they have a skill (or a calling) and mine is writing, so being able to do Creative Writing is amazing. I'm amazingly interested in Criminology and I'm interested in and good at Sociology, so it's a win-win situation! Another bonus is that the University of Gloustershire has two campuses (one in Glouster and one in Cheltenham) and the campus for all of these courses is in Cheltenham... Cheltenham being one of my favourite places ever! Then, when I looked at the Creative Writing course itself, you could do that AND Publishing: Books and Magazines. So if I was to have a serious change of heart about being a Criminal Psychologist, I could simply do that. Yay!

The University of Swansea is somehwere that I don't really want to go, but for some reason Mother is desperate for me to go there whilst Dad is desperate for me to go to Oxford or Cambridge, but that's a different story. Anyway, Swansea offers Criminology, Sociology, Psychology and Zoology (which I'm interested in). Needless to say, I don't want to go there.

So yeah, I haven't even sat a majority of my GCSEs yet, but hey; I'M PREPARED!

Getting Rid of Christmas

Today, the Brown family embarked on getting rid of Christmas. According to Mother, 'everybody laughs if you still have them up after January 6th' although if they do, then I find them quite shallow and a tad bit weird. People must be rushed to hospital due to too much laughing with the amount of Christmas lights left out until around March just down the road and around the corner...

Now I need a Tens Machine (which sends electrical impulses through my back) and last night, I fell asleep on my side in the fetal position as per usual. That might sound irrelevant, but when I wake up after sleeping like that, it hurts, a lot. Then I did some Art which meant I was sat on the couch bent over my A3 Art book for quite a while. That hurt it more. So I put the sticky pads, that look like what you stick on people who've had heart attacks, by my shoulder blades and the bottom part of my back (behind my waist). Wires connect the sticky pads to the machine, which I keep in my pocket so I can adjust the settings to my preference. I was talking to Dad, and he saw my machine. (May I just add that being Australian seems to make people amazingly childish and prone to doing stupid things on a whim. Dad is from Perth, Australia.) He turned one of the dials (which adjusts the strength of the electricity) all the way up. I screamed in pain as the bottom of my back received the hugest electric shock I have ever encountered. Dad laughed and I looked at him with a face that could only mean utmost despair, before running off to Mother to cry. I did the same to him, but he didn't feel the same pain as I felt and only described it as 'a strange and unusual sensation'. He did go on to say that he now understands more about my minuscule pain threshold though.

Just to add, for food my parents had Beef Wellington and I had these cream cheese stuffed peppers in breadcrumbs. Mother had bought them under the assumption that they were the kind of peppers that you can get in your Subway, and when I complained that the left a spicy taste in my mouth and couldn't really eat them, Dad ranted at me being difficult to feed and that it was my choice to be a vegetarian, not theirs. Then once I'd left the room to write this, they ate one and laughing, Dad exclaimed "These are jalapeno peppers!" He hasn't apologized for the vegetarian rant though... No surprise there really! xD

The First Day Of Twenty-Ten

New year, new start, or so they say...
The snow came down so quickly, and it stuck! It was a lovely start to January, but already I am plagued by self-hate and annoyance. My Pa has an amazing way of making me hate myself without even trying, and then I scare myself with the ease in which I imagine myself commiting suicide. Then I'm horrible to Mother who has an annoying voice at times, but doesn't want any harm to come to anyone, then I hate myself for being horrible to her. Pa is one of those people who was obviously bullied as a child, because he takes offence at the tiniest things and it infultraites the atmosphere, turning the room into a cold pit of awkwardness. He always chooses the living room to sulk in as well, and you have to go through it in order to go upstairs. Then the longer you go without saying anything, the harder it is to speak in his precense. He's either stuck on the computer, and then when you're talking to him, he freaks out because he's doing something. When he's not on the computer, he's slumped on the couch watching shit on the television and gets really offended when you show an interest in changing the channel.
Anyway, last years goal was to be more feminine, and I achieved that. So this year I have a few ideas... I'm going to save £2 a week, which will make £100 by Christmas, stay vegetarian, get a corset, get more confidence (because it'll enable me to be more feminine), not rush into things and have fun being young.