Back In Form.

I know that people are now aware of this blog, and I honestly don't mind. This is just me trying to let off steam, put things into perspective and be happier in the knowledge that I'm not being a secretive moose. Anyway, Meh knows and in some ways I don't actually mind because I didn't really hide it, and whilst I could only ever patronize him, I was getting better on the talking front. However, I noticed how I've actually gone back to how I use to be mentally: unstable, intolerant and closed. My hair is back black too. I wear colours now though, and I don't like feminine guys much (which reminds me of my shocking revelation).

Today was the school's Eisteddfod, which is all in Welsh. None of the lessons ran properly, and first lesson I had Welsh. I'd made up a plan on the spot when I arrived and saw no Meh, I quickly went to a computer room before he could appear and did a task for Business that I hadn't done before. Lunch time went with no qualms, apart from me panicking over outfits to wear to this 'thing' tomorrow (which I'll explain later on), and then only myself and one other person turned up to Art. So we went down to the hall to watch some of the Eisteddfod. First was a Welsh rendition of Queen's 'Somebody To Love' which has to be one of the most awful things I've ever heard, and then there was a Welsh rendition of James Morrisson's 'Broken Strings' which was actually really good considering it was in Welsh. Mind you, it was fronted by one of the prettiest, loveliest, most talented girls in my year, so that was no surprise. Then there was some crap 'ceremony' thing that made no sense to me but went on until forever, or at least that's what it felt like. Then there were the disco dancing groups. The first in green were okay, but the dancing wasn't amazing and it wasn't funny, so it didn't bode well. The second group came out in blue (which was my 'team') were entertaining and did well. Nothing could prepare me for the final group though. Basically, the guys stole the show in the way that all guys can. Girls just don't know how to be funny. Bless, they completely stole the show. Four of the guys in their vests (and I never thought I'd be girly about guys with muscles, but I literally died - in a good way), one in a bright yellow tutu. He's in my Business class, so I knew he was really funny, but I never thought I'd actually laugh out loud at him on a stage. Meh was in that group, but that wasn't why I watched it and I really resented the thought that that was why I was there.

I then stayed afterwards to watch some of the music soloists. My 'bus buddy' first, my old friend second, Lady Hammett third, Chin fourth. Then I left. I would've waited for Squidward, but I didn't know how long that would be. I had to walk past Meh to leave the room, and I think I nearly broke my neck. The floor was like a magnet and I clenched my eyes shut. It was horrible, I felt so small and puny. Oh well... Turns out Squidward won, which is epic since all we hear about is Lady Hammett and my 'bus buddy' winning things, but Squidward isn't as competitive so it's less rare news. Lady Hammett understood when I explained to her. This is one of the few times where I could actually say it better than I wrote it down. Talking about music, I have rediscovered my love for Emilie Autumn (her album is top priority for me to get now, sorry Ellie Goulding!) and Elly has introduced me to Joanna Newman, who is seriously amazing in a weird way. Emilie Autumn is quickly becoming my new obsession. She went to a music school, and they told her to keep her personality off the stage as she was only an outlet for the music, she tried to kill herself a few times and has bi-polar, eventually ending up in a mental asylum. She's written a book called 'The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls' and records poems and releases them as a part of her albums. I've included a short video of hers below and it's like the only video of that topic. She's not like these feminists who rant and rave about men all the time.

The 'thing' that Lady Hammett has brought upon me is that of a family event that I'm still not sure of. I had a brief run down on the family members that would be there; the depressing vegetarian and her know-it-all second husband, the kooky old lady and her deaf husband, the posh host who doesn't need to work and has two houses and her husband (who I've forgotten all about other than he must have a good job), the drop-out cousin and chav cousin with the boring job who I can't remember if their going or not, the cousin with the babies. Anyway... I don't know what to wear. I've been warned not to say anything weird or wear too much black. I don't want to over-dress or under-dress, I have a really nice posh dress but it's black, and Lady Hammett assured me that it wasn't 'that' kind of 'thing'. To say the least, I'm petrified and the worst part is that it's tomorrow.

I've also decided that in sixth form I shall say what I want, wear what I want and do what I want. I'm fed up of this fake façade, living life trying to be normal and then relaxing on her. In sixth form, I won't hide things and I won't be defeated by someone as perfect as Meh. I'll be like a sphynx - weird, extreme and naked (metaphorically or course). Oh, and by the way, I totally can't believe that it was snowing on the last day of March. Spontaneous weather - I like you. You can stay.