The Shortest Day Of My Life

(Almost) Every Tuesday and Thursday I come home and spend half an hour to an hour going on and on about my day volunteering. The, let's call them quirky, characters that are regulars in the shop, the weird and wonderful donations we have in, the stories we come up with behind each donation, all the different personalities of all the different volunteers, all the things I tried on and didn't fit... However, I will not bore you with all of those stories.

I've been using my Tumblr blog quite a bit, but that's no to say I won't stay to this one. It's just that that one isn't for every day ramblings, it's for monologues, creative writing and poetic things. The sort of crap that you have going around and around in your head all day, so you just have to let it out. I didn't want to clog up this blog with junk and creative explosions! (Remember, the link's on the side.)

So what am I going to tell you? I'm going to tell you about my acupuncture, next time... Here's a brief snippet about today though: I woke up at 2pm, bathed and had acupuncture at 3pm. The 'spleen and lady problems' points on my shins were so painful the lady (who I though was related to Mr Moses but when I smoothly brought him up there was no recognition at all) had to stop. She said they were tender on a lot of girls, but mine might have been so bad because of my endometriosis. Then she couldn't get them out. I nearly cried. She left and I went to bed at 4.30pm and awoke at 7pm to eat three crumpets, sweet tea (freaking four sugars) and Grandpa. I then went on MSN to make some plans for tomorrow. I'm going to see my friend, who I haven't seen in ten years, play drums in his band. Actually, I then had a semi-jokey-argument with Hammy over the guitarist. I won't go into details, but I was dying from laughter and she was probably wanting to stab me. I've had to put the fan on because I'm dying from over heating. I think I'm generally dying anyway. Which reminds me, my yellow nail varnish has died. Damn cheap thing.

I've also fallen out with my oracle.

My Full On Epiphany

So a few months back, I had what I thought was an epiphany. I have a friend called Jay, and Tess liked him too, then all of a sudden, boom! She didn't want me to have anything to do with him and she kept pulling a face of pure revulsion when he came up in conversation. I thought to myself, well he hasn't done anything to me so why should I care what he's done to anyone else? Yes, that was my epiphany, to not care about what anybody said about my friends, to trust my own experiences with them, to choose my own friends and not have them chosen for me. This seemed to work, or so I thought, but yesterday I received a message on facebook; it was a cross between an apology and an explanation from somebody who I believed to have hated me - we've been at each others necks for a while. That's when it struck me. The main reason I was so 'against' her was simply because that's what I was expected to be. I was expected to hate her, and to be unsympathetic to her, and to not show any doubt in what my actions said about my feelings towards her. This sounds petty, but I can say without a doubt that this was the case with her too. My epiphany a few weeks ago was good, but it wasn't a full on epiphany. This was. This was the next step, building on what I'd thought a few weeks ago. I read this facebook message and thought to myself, why should I conform to anybody's expectations of how I act and who I like? It was so subconscious that I'd had no idea it had been happening, and I'm not ashamed either, in fact I'm proud that I can see that now. By discovering this, I can now confront it and try to be the best person I possibly can be.

A Good Start To A Long Holiday

Wednesday June 30, 2010 I went down to Carmarthen to see Tess' and Hannah's flat and to generally spend the day with my sister. I took her to the music shop to see the accordion that I've had my eye on. She always seems interested in my weird phases, or at least when she's alone with me. She's a sister then, not a wannabe mom. She (unlike Mr. 'I-Can't-Do-That-Because-I'll-Look-Like-A-Freak-Even-Though-I-Know-You-Are-And-I-Still-Go-Out-With-You-For-Some-Unforeseeable-Reason', whose name says it all!) asked the man working tehre about the accordions because I was too shy in case they weren't even accordions, and I shall tell you all that he told us: The £120 that I've been looking at for a few weeks MIGHT be leaky, and would cost £150 to completely restore, but once restored, it could be sold for £1000. The accordion that Tess liked is a standard and cost £360, he then worked out that if you rented that accordion for four months, it would only cost you £90, which is just over £20 a month. Interesting, huh? I thought so anyway.

NEXT. Thursday July 1, 2010, I went to The Red Cross in Llandeilo had a 'poster' on their door (pictured) which I took an interest in. I really like charity shops, mainly because you end up with things that not everybody has and sometimes look vintage but also because of the whole 'Green Thing' that I rock so well with being a regular public transport user and a vegetarian, but I'd never thought of volunteering, mainly because you could be working in the hours your giving to charity for money, and I know that could quite easily sound awful, but you do have to make money to get on in life, to not live in poverty. Yes, I'll be the first to admit that the Certificate in Retail is what made me go in about it. So anyway, I went in on Thursday July 1, 2010 and spoke to Amanda, the shop manager. She took me to the back room and I sat on a foot stool whilst she sat on the floor and talked through some forms with me. Then came the exciting part, the showing me around bit. Here're the interesting highlights: They aren't allowed to use normal bags, they have to pay £20 for a small roll of special purple bags from the council, so by giving them junk, you're costing them money. They haven't got the facilities to wash or iron clothes, so if something's dirty, it has to be sent away to a Soviet country, like Russia. They have a steamer, which they use on everything before it goes out, meaning that sometimes things that look clean have to be sent away too. They have a special tag gun to put the tags on things, and it's really cool. They have to go through bags of donations at waist height because you're not meant to bend, and there're two different areas - one for donations and one for unacceptable items. There are some weird people that not only send filthy clothes, but send in broken glass and china, and just leave the bags outside the shop in bin liners. The till is computerised (not like the typewriter kind that I always lusted for...) and sometimes crashes. There is actually a system, so for example, if someone bought a book, you'd press 'Books Fiction' and scan. It's a touch screen unfortunately. They have a price chart, which tells you (on a scale of £ to £££££) how much you should price a product from certain lines, such as Next, Primark and Matthew Williamson. I loved all of this, and they liked me so much she offered me five days, but I could only make four. I only have to do twenty hours to get the Certificate (which is sponsored by Tesco) and I start on Monday, I'm doing a 'full day' which is ten til three, with an hours lunch.

FINALLY. I was going to go shopping with Abi on Friday July 2, 2010 but she had to cancel because she had to play violin at Newton House, where there was a sort of Art and Textiles show thing going on. I was upset, because I've had my eyes on this dress at Hobos for months and was getting scared that it wouldn't be there anymore. It's pink with white polka dots, and whilst before I'd never have thought about wearing it, a certain Mr. 'Sunshine Monster' has given me a stupid amount of confidence in such a short amount of time using not as many compliments as you'd imagine. I had to go with Ashley instead. We got to the door at half past ten and discovered it was closed. I saw a green polka dot dress in the window on the mannequin and exclaimed, "If that pink dress doesn't fit, I'm trying that!" We were only there a few seconds more when this weird but lovely dude walked over, tried to open the door, squealed in confusion when it didn't open and then said "That's not how you do business... Are they like, picking up litter or something because they're hobos? It must be something serious..." We parted ways, unfortunately. We went to HMV and I bought Darwin Deez's album at full price, we went back at eleven and it was open. I ran in and picked up the pink dress and saw that it was a size two, I then picked up the green polka dot dress (there were many different colours, but the green was the most striking and therefore the most me) in two sizes, a to and a three. After a seconds thought, I put the size three down with a smug smile on my face. This is rather poignant because it shows once and for all that I have defeated my teenage female body dismorphia.

I tried the pink one on and it looked weird - I didn't have enough boobs to fill it and as the had been tailored to emphasise the boob area, it stuck out at weird angles as opposed to being stretched tight around real ladies curves. I then tried the green one on and I fell in love - the neckline wasn't too low, the shoulders stuck out so much that they were not only quirky, but hiding my freaky deformed shoulder, and it doesn't even need an elasticated belt at the waist it's so flattering! I wondered if I should buy it, and I thought of all the things that Jason has said to me, and with that in mind, I strode over to the till and got out my last £20 note. That's the only important part of that story really. Thank you Jason... x

Then that night, I went to Jess' house party - yes, the one I spoke of in my last post. It was amazing. Started off slow, never went fast, and I'm grateful. As I'm growing older, time doesn't speed past me as much, and I'm fine with that. It was amazing. There were unexpected moments and moments that should have happened about a year ago. I'm not going to tell you about it though, surprise surprise!

Money Bags and Lost Opportunities

I have two foolproof system in which I keep my money. One's my 'Every Little Helps' system, and the other is my 'Saving Up For a Rainy Day' system.

Every Little Helps:

I have a camper van money box for my coppers, a huge pink piggy bank for 5p coins, an adorable cow money box for 10p coins, a funky car money box for 20p coins, a classy white piggy bank for 50p coins and a small jigsaw piggy bank for my £2 coins. Notes and £1 coins are kept in my purse at all times. I count them up semi-annually, at the end of June and December.

Saving Up For a Rainy Day:

I have an amazing sheep money box (it's got wool on its body and an amazing face,) which I put £2 in at the end of every week. This came about when I had a £2 raise in pocket money when I turned 16. I figured that I wouldn't miss £2 a week, and as there are around 52 weeks in a year, that should mean £104. It will be counted up annually at the end of December.

As I've said, I count up my 'Every Little Helps' money at the end of June. As I couldn't fit any more 20p pieces in the specified money box, I decided it was time to count them up now. I've bagged up £95 so far, not including coppers. There was £20 in £2 coins, £20 in 50p pieces, £10 in 20p pieces, £10 in 10p pieces and £25 in 5p pieces (which was a shock). Hopefully, by the time I've put all of the money in the bank, the balance will have doubled! In September I should start receiving £60 a fortnight with EMA.

Yesterday was my first time paying money into the bank myself. I went up to Barclay's Llandeilo Branch after my half hour Welsh listening exam, and clutching the pay-in book to my chest, I fired loads of questions at Grandpa. During this scene, one of the main staff members from Gegin Fach y Gwili (an uber tiny, quaint cafe in Llandeilo that I planned on working in over the Summer) watched us. Grandpa said to her "She's never paid money in to the bank before!", to which she replied "How old are you?" Dreading what she'd say next, I quietly said "Sixteen." She said "There's something not right there..." Grandpa continued to embarrass me and then took me to the cafe in question for food. When we walked in, the woman was in the kitchen, and upon seeing me, she smiled and clapped patronisingly. I asked Mother how much, on a scale of one to ten, that damaged my chances of working there. She said eight. Then Dad chirped up and said, "I wouldn't hire you after that!" which means I now have to look for somewhere proper to work.

Jumping From One Blog To Another...

So I am about to embark on the worst week of my life - tomorrow I have a Business exam and a Math exam, the next day I have an English exam, then I have two History exams followed by an English exam and on the last day, a Math exam. It's mainly the day of History I'm dreading, and the fatigue that I know I'm going to be suffering from even more so... However, this past week has been great. I met up with my sister, an old friend/ex I haven't seen for ages and a bunch of her delinquent drug taking friends who are actually really nice; I also dragged Abi along even though I knew she wouldn't like them, she promised that she'd try but nevermind. Of course, there was the whole thing of meeting me good ol' mate, Tim Minchin (pahaha) and of meeting up with William, Cerian, Shaun and Henry, as it turns out, to sell the harmonica. These were all very good days for me, but none beat yesterday night.

I was in one hell of a mood. I'd woken up in extreme pain, mainly in my spine, and my throat was bad too. Ashley was coming over, and although I wanted to cancel badly, I couldn't since I hadn't seen him since Tuesday morning and even then I hardly spoke to him. (The thought of society and their values has been depressing me lately, and he's had to suffer.) Mother had to find my machine for me, and we watched lots of Tv. I occasionally checked my facebook and formspring (like a real junkie does), and I had a message on the latter asking if I held grudges, and in my reply, I said "I like to get back with people I might've lost accidentally, there's one especially, but I won't push it." I wanted someone in particular to see, but I was scared of being ridiculed. Then, moments later, I received a text from this particular person. It simply said, "Hello?" I replied with the biggest smile on my face, but I was also anxious, anxious that this was a set up or was about to implode into a huge argument. I then got a phone call, and I looked at Ashley on the couch before screaming "I NEED TO TAKE THIS CALL!" and sprinting up the stairs.

This particular person's name? Matthew. Why was this call so important? Because we haven't spoken since August 21st and up until that point, he'd been my best friend, in fact, it was more than that... What happened? It's a long story that I'm not telling for the 100th time because that would be a bitch to programme! (pahaha! Sorry if you don't get it...)

Yes. Matthew came back to me. Just like Jarvis Cocker's song 'Baby's Coming Back To Me' (that's a link). Ages ago, Mother said that Katy Perry's song 'Thinking of You' made her think of me and Matthew, but that just meant that I couldn't listen to it for nine months... I could've had a baby in the time that we weren't in touch. It could've been known as Heartbreak Kid! *story idea* But yes... he phoned and I answered, and I broke down and asked if it was some kind of cruel joke. I mean, I knew a few things about what was going on in his life because my friend happens to be pretty good at being an investigator. I never thought we'd get back in touch though. Once off the phone, I spent the night texting him whilst being sat next to Ashley. Mother said it was rude but I didn't care. That night, I read over the texts from the event of August 21st 2009, and I came across one from Carys reading: "You've lost Joe, you've lost Matt, now you've lost me." As it turns out, I only lost her, and dude, I can so totally live with that. No problem.

A Classic Moment.

'Living-God' Jarvis Cocker hosts a radio show on BBC Radio 6 Music and won the Sony Rising Star Award. His show is on from four in the afternoon until six in the evening every Sunday, and he is quoted to have said "Sunday doesn't feel that different to the other days of the week anymore. Although there was something weird about when everything seemed to stop on a Sunday, it kind of marked out the week. I am going to put the boringness back into Sunday. That's my mission." He's sort of become a modern John Peel also, and is trying to stop the station from being closed down in order to save money, although he says that it's very cheap to run as the presenters don't have extortionate pay cheques and the shows are recorded in the same building as Radio 2. He said, "6 Music is never going to be the biggest station in the UK but it would be devastating if it was to close... 6 Music isn't going to change the world, it just wants to make it a bit nicer." Anyway, May 16. 2010, he starts the show by playing 'Tangled Up In Blue' by Bob Dylan, and at the end he said, "Tangled Up In Blue by Bob Dylan. That one goes out to Nick Clegg..." It took me a while to get, and when I told 'Mr. Shit, I Haven't Got A New Name For Him Yet And The Old One's Inappropriate', his reply made me realise how slow I was on the intake and how I maybe shouldn't tell others about it. I went on to tell Mother of Jarvis' little quip and she replied with "David should reply that he's going to live in a Yellow Submarine!" Anyone who doesn't get that should be embarrassed by their ignorance.

Cameron and Clegg

So yeah, this just came on the news and I thought it was quite sweet. I seriously want to read some fan fiction about the to of them - I'll need a detailed, tense, heartbreaking romance with some politics and tough decisions thrown in amongst sex and restraints and as little Gordon Brown as possible! It's not that I don't like him, it's that I don't find him at all persuasive, seductive or lovable, so he can just BACK OFF OUT OF MY NEW FANTASY! Thank you very much... Today was my last day of school. I now know what I'm doing at A level, I've lately made a new friend who makes me buzz, and I'm getting rid of a few people out of my life. So overall, the general mood is relief but with a tiny bit of nerves about the gruelling exams.

The Night of David Cameron's Victory

"What the hell are the Liberal Democrats doing going to bed with the Conservatives?" Smooth Mr Television Reporter Interviewer Man.

"Do you know what the deal is here then?" "Absolutely no idea." "Oh... Well why have you come in here then?" "Because I was told to." David Dimbleby, you have such grace... Please! Just tell me your secret!

"...and the Liberal Democrats have decided to swallow it." I don't even know what that was about but it took me by surprise!

Yes yes, David Cameron has become Prime Minister, that's all very good and everything, but like I said to Mother, hardly anything to do with British politics is going to be as historic as American politics. But the only bits I really remember of the night are the news reporters going mad! Oh and the Queen's face beaming whilst she shook David Cameron's hand...

BLESS HER ROYAL LITTLE HEART!

How Best to Describe Myself

So my friend and I were talking about how my group of friends are incapable of keeping secrets, but not in a bad way, in a helpful way (apart from once, but that wasn't me and it was in spite). Our secret telling orgy revolves around juicy secrets that aren't hurtful and don't really cause complications. In fact, Lady Hammett seemed quite proud of my latest secret telling orgy because I'm good at getting results. Anywho, on a camping trip which I didn't attend a while back, they all played a 'rating game' that I love to do with Lady Hammett - looks and personality out of ten. It's up there just above Snog, Marry, Avoid. One of the group gave me a two in personality, and somehow I managed to not be offended, just curious. So I asked him in Business (which was during our secret telling orgy), and he said, "No - it wasn't a bad two, I just don't like your personality." Basically, it's not an 'urgh you suck' personality, it's a 'what the hell are we meant to do with you?' personality. I know what I mean. He said I was usually 'too controversial' which I think's fine. Anyway, I replied with, "So it's not an 'urgh you suck' personality, it's a 'what the hell am I meant to do with you?' personality - like a really cute dog that drags it's arse across the carpet." I was serious, but when I was repeating everything to Lady Hammett, we nearly died of laughter, and I hadn't realised how bad it truly sounded. Well, somebody on formspring said to me "Do you know that you're a viper, whose words and actions act like venom in your fangs. Yo may sink them in as delicately as you must, and your prey may think nothing of your bite at first. Bus as time seeps in so does contamination, and eventually death." That didn't have the desired effect though, because I thought it was amazing and okay, so it sums me up perfectly, but it made me feel pretty powerful at the same time. Hell, vipers are so powerful and they control by fear, that's not the desired affect that I want, but it's an affect. So there's a contrasting simile and metaphor both describing me. Take your pick, they both apply. Anyway, I'm now going to change my 'About Me' section on facebook to say exactly what I think of myself as being like:

a really cute dog that drags

it's arse across the carpet

My Stroke of Genius in the Bath

So Kennedy's a cat, the following has many references to the Cuban Missile Crisis, Cleo's a hypochondriac. Any comments, suggestions and improvements are welcomed.

"No matter how much I want to, we can't keep him Winston, it's not fair on Kennedy. He's agitated and this is his home. This should be a place of relaxation. Besides, the dog doesn't even have a name."

Laughing, Winston said, "We could call him Khrushchev."

Cleo laughed too at the reference. She felt a little knot in her throat and a growing fondness for Winston. She blinked hard and said, "They can't work out an amicable decision though, not without Kennedy ending up with less than he began with anyway."

"True true," Winston said, chuffed that she'd understood his joke. "The only thing he can lose is his home, and that's not right. I'll put an advertisement in the paper then, and keep him at my house for a week."

"And then?"

"And then I'll try my hardest to let him go. I know it's like the enemy forming connections to you that are too close for comfort, but please don't set up a blockade!"

They mockingly shook hands. "I don't aspire to damage relations Sir, EXCOMM and I have learnt from past mistakes. You have my word."

Laughing, Winston went to take the newly-named Khrushchev to his house, and Cleo slumped on the couch in confusion and panic over her new feelings. She'd never felt like that before - was she ill? She made a note to herself to visit the library soon.

Just Because it's Uplifting.

[All of the following took place on facebook chat (unless specified otherwise). We were both sat in the living room, approximately six metres away from each other with Lady Hammett sat next to me.]

Diane (Mother)

SH**head

Me (Daughter)

-.- Bedtime.

Diane (Mother)

OVERTIRED

Me (Daughter)

Says the adult calling their daughter a shithead.

Now make me a sandwich.

Diane (Mother)

CHILDISH!!!!!

Diane *in person*

What sandwich do you want?

Jeffree Star, my Doctor and my family.

Tuesday April Sixth, Twenty-Ten.

I went to see Jeffree Star in Sin City, Swansea. I spent £18 on merch (an uber-hot tee and his new CD entitled 'Beauty Killer') and then had my CD signed by the God himself. If you don't know who Jeffree Star is, then: [http://www.myspace.com/jeffreestar] Not only is he beautiful, but my sister and I have been in love with him since his first EP, 'Plastic Surgery Slumber Party'. I insisted Tess went, she simply had to. She brought Hannah of course, and I went with Cerian, Amy and Crumple. Synthetic Season were the opening band, and I loved them. Then Jeffree Star, who is quite frankly a real-life Queen Supreme. Then BrokeNcyde, who I like, but not enough to watch. Whilst they were on, Jeffree Star appeared at the merch table and over half of the audience left to see him. Okay, so I walked into the table when I walked up to him, but I was literally in a dream world! He signed my CD, we had a photo taken, and then I walked off with Tess and Hannah riding on cloud nine.

Wednesday April Seventh, Twenty-Ten.

I went to see the doctor. I've had a major headache since March Ninth (those with a good memory might remember me complaining after the first half of my Art exam) and now we're getting concerned. My Great-Aunt complained of headaches her whole life and eventually had an aneurysm and died of a brain haemorrhage. The blunt doctor said that I have a nervous disposition and am suffering from a stress migraine, so I need to do things that are more relaxing. I can't really do exercise due to the hyper mobility syndrome, and I can't swim (which is one of the few exercises that are good for me). Reading and writing isn't relaxing since it required concentration, so he ended up saying that the only thing for the headaches were video games. He also stressed that he's seen a lot of able people having the same problem, and that they have nervous breakdowns in university and go on to do nothing. He seems really concerned that I'm going to make myself psychologically ill. So I've basically been prescribed video games.

Monday April Twelfth, Twenty-Ten.

Mother, Papi and I found out that Nanna-Brown and Grandad-Brown were finally moving to Australia. They had it all planned out and are leaving in July. Whilst Papi acted over the moon at the start, he was upset since they didn't tell us until ten days had passed and everyone else knew. My parents wanted to buy our old computer back for me to do work on during my A levels, but they've already sold it and he won't give it back. The atmosphere all day was so horrible, I apologized to Ashmlee Willie Winkie later on and he said that it wasn't my fault and that I shouldn't apologize.

Tuesday April Thirteenth, Twenty-Ten.

It was Ashmlee Willie Winkie's and my eight weekiversary today, according to him. I went to see Tess and Hannah up in Carmarthen. We didn't really do anything, just sat around the table mainly. Charlie was there, urgh... Jam (who I haven't seen in around two years), Rachel and Danni (who I'd never met before) were the first of the visitors, nothing much happened apart from Tess and Hannah putting on fake tan. We were all nearly wetting ourselves with laughter. Tess looked proper black, especially her hands. Hannah wasn't much better, but Tess' peroxide hair didn't really help. Jam, Rachel and Danni left, and the next batch of visitors were this guy who had a voice that made everything he said sound like a complaint called David, a really quiet guy called Martyn, this lovely gay guy called Jake and Hannah's really pretty sister Becky. They stayed for a while and still, nothing much happened. I had my first ever cream soda and made myself some toast. They left and the three of us retired to the living room. I watched the first ten minutes of Saw V and then was picked up at 20.10-ish.

Wednesday April Fourteenth, Twenty-Ten.

My headaches are still awful so I went up to the doctor again - we think I've built up a resistance to Ibuprofen and Paracetamol just like I did when I was on Mephanamic Acid for my Endometriosis, so now I've been given Co-codamol, which you can get addicted to. Last time I took Co-codamol was the night that I swaer to God I had a mini-overdose, so I'm a tad bit weary now...

Great Understanding There... -.-

Yesterday night, just after we all sorted out the new dining room chairs (we now have two pale green ones and four deep pink ones to go with the colour scheme of the kitchen) and took the old ones out to The Sanctuary, Dad was telling me how pretty I was and I broke down crying. I was depressed and on the verge anyway, but when he focused everyone's attention on me, everyone being himself, Mother and Ashmlee Willie Winkie, then I just skydived off the edge. For the last few days, the urge to sink my nails into my cheeks and just rip my face off, making huge claw-like scars down both sides of my face, has been my constant companion. Y'know, one of those people that just tag along and you can't tell them to leave because then they stay with you but in a retched mood that you simply can't ignore? Yeah, well I mean companion in that sense. Anyway, I told Mother for no apparent reason, and a few moments later, Pa stormed in my bedroom and said, nastily, "Go downstairs, and convince your mother that you don't want to claw your face off and that you don't want to kill myself." So I went downstairs, sighed, and said "I don't want to claw my face off and I really don't want to kill myself." Hell, I'd never even mentioned suicide! Assumption or what? I only agree with suicide when it's people like Hitler who REALLY have no way out! Anyway, that sort of did my head in because it's like when I told Mother that I punched myself in the head before, she just cried and never mentioned it ever again. It's sort of the whole 'out of sight, out of mind' thing, but it's driving me crazy. I'm so frustrated. I told Mother about the Meh thing and she was nice about it, probably because it proves that I'm not a lesbian like Tess, but Pa was seriously not understanding one bit. He's all like, "Well it sounds to me like you're being unfaithful in your actions!" Ha! Like I have a chance to be unfaithful, it is Meh we're talking about. There's really no hope. Oh, and I found out I'm allergic to popcorn. I can now add this to my list of allergies, which now consists of two things: hospital plasters and popcorn. Woop! x

Why Can't I Work Around You?

I know that I don't usually write two blog posts this close together, because it makes it less likely for the person to read the previous one (plus I just un-subscribed to somebody because they blogged every day and clogged up my reading list). However, I need to relieve myself from this anger, embarrassment and depression, so I'm going to blog it out.

Last night I spoke to Meh on facebook chat for ages. I thought this would prepare me, although saying that, it did take me an hour to build up enough confidence to even type 'Hello..?' to him. The conversation left me really happy, like when I sit next to him in class. I spoke to Smooth briefly and one of the two people that read this blog 'might have said something' to him, which is embarrassing. Last lesson and I have to sit next to him, but I can't choose a seat and he's making me choose, so I self-conbust and turn bright red. He chooses a seat, eventually. Then we just sit there, and we don't say anything, but when he does I laugh and giggle and feel like crying. Thankfully I don't, but I nearly did on the bus. He looks at me and I try to do my serious face but I nearly wet myself in excitement when he looks at me. Seriously, he's lovely. I wanted to talk, but I couldn't without looking like an idiot. I think Miss realised what was going on, as she kept on looking and I think she tried to save me. It's a shame that nothing can save me. Not only does he make me feel stupid, he makes me feel ugly and insignificant. I know I'm not, but I morph when I'm around him. (Lord Hammett, remember how I was with Digby? Yeah, well this is FAR worse!) It's not on. Chapstick kept on swivelling in her chair and talking to him in ease, I was so jealous. She's so pretty. Urgh. I wish I could be that effortless. Hell, I wish he would like me. I spoke to Sailor on the bus and he told me that Meh had been telling him about it. He assured me that he wasn't being mean, he was laughing. This was upsetting in a way, I'm not a joke. I hope Thursday goes better, because I hate my on personal counselling. This can't go too far, like it did with Stoner. I hate hating myself, so why does everyone put me through it?

Oh, and Lady Hammett - I missed you today. x

Foundation Girl is Happy.

Monday was suppose to be my last day of freedom before the gruelling ten hour exam. For the first half of the day, I had a rather uneventful Art lesson, Business lesson and Critical Thinking lesson. Dinner time, I stretched paper. It sounds weird, and it is. You have to soak a piece of paper in the sink and put it on a board, flattening it out at the edges. You then get some gummed brown paper tape, soak it so that the gummed side turns into glue and place it all along the edges of the paper. It has to be half on the paper, half on the board. The idea of this is that the paper 'relaxes' but then can't go back to its original size because of the tape. It should be ready to use tomorrow. Should.

Life isn't all excitement and popcorn - I had one of my real Welsh oral exams. For this particular exam, there're only three variations of questions: organizing something, persuading someone, replying to an advert. I'd only really looked at the third variation because it's the easiest meaning I didn't need to learn anything in order to do alright in it. Lazy, I know. If you were a higher candidate doing foundation though, you'd be the same! Foundation relies heavily upon sentence structure, whilst higher relies heavily on vocabulary, which I could never learn. That's the case with second language at least, anyway... As I'm 'Foundation Girl', I was at the bottom of the list with the other three people doing foundation. Meh was at 14.50, Whore was at 15.00, I was at 15.10 and Flat Nose was at 15.20. This was all during RE which peeved me a bit as I look forward to sitting next to Meh, even though I can't talk to him. I felt sick, but not with nervous. No, I felt sick just waiting for her to do that disappointed face at me. That face always makes me want to throw up and cry at the same time. I was sat in RE alone, and then I left at around 15.08, I knew it would over-run and it had. Whore told me to go to the library, Meh was in there. I sat in there opposite my old form teacher, Miss Beard (now Mrs Morgan) and made small talk for about seventy-two seconds until we lapsed into silence. My Welsh teacher came and fetched me. I told her I felt sick and she told me that I shouldn't be nervous, but I obviously should. That threw me. It threw me so much that I forgot that I was feeling sick. She went through the questions with me, and then gave me a piece of paper to write my preparation notes on. I took the piece of paper from my pocket out and copied out the two sentences that I had to learn. (They were: Rydw i'n ffonio achos mae gen i ddiddordeb yn yr hysbyseb, which I actually did know, and Wela i chi cyn bo hir, which I didn't know that well.) I then went in and she explained that she was going to read out my candidate number (0001) and the instructions and then I should start. I didn't understand what she was saying when she spoke in Welsh, so there was around a ten second gap with me whispering "Do I start now?" That wasn't a great start. She spoke over me once, and then told me I was excellent and that she was relieved because she'd been waiting for my oral.

I scooted back to RE and Meh said that he'd chosen me to do the Welsh Group Oral with. This made me really happy, really embarrassed, and I wanted to explode. He then went on to say that I couldn't drag him down and he couldn't drag me down. I told him we could script it and he could have all the easy bits. I then told him I'd sacrifice my grades for him. Camel stared at us, and I freaked out, so he mocked me. I told him he looked like a camel, explaining that it was because of his long eyelashes and long face. He couldn't see how it was anything but an insult. He made me laugh, and then agreed that I looked like a chipmunk or a beaver. I was embarrassed, but still uber excited that I was going to be working with Meh in the future without looking like a stalker. I told Lady Hammett, and Skank, and Kiwee, and Ginger. I would've told Squidward, but he'd gone... Even Lady Hammett wasn't interested, but I didn't care because I was exploding all over the place with happiness! Then, when I got home, I made myself Carrot and Coriander soup, which I grated cheese into so it would melt in the microwave. NOMNOMNOM!

I still haven't finished my History essay, but I won't be in the lesson tomorrow because of the first half of my ten hour exam! Ha!

PostScript: [If you haven't had enough time to read my blog from yesterday, it's about a trip to England and going to see Alice in Wonderland with Lady Hammett and Cherry. You don't necessarily have to read it, or comment on it, but it would make me very happy indeed. I won't be posting again until Friday soonest!]

In Which I Don't Mention St. Valentine's Day.

Okay, so here are the three things I'm going to talk about: Dental Procedure, Lady Hammett, Swansea and Those With An XY Chromosome. (This post has taken me a while to red, I have NME on television and Pulp's song 'Disco 2000' came on. I've never properly watched the video and I find it necessary to stop everything I'm doing to watch and appreciate the God-like Jarvis Cocker. Then Head Automatica's 'Beating Heart Baby' came on and I had to drool to Daryl Palumbo, et cetera et cetera et cetera...)

(i) Dental Procedure. (Friday February Twelfth, Twenty-Ten. Part One.)

I have another procedure taking place in my head - or to be more specific, in my face - or to be more specific, in my mouth. Even though I'm only sixteen, I have wisdom teeth coming up, and lucky me, they're impacted. I went to the dentist about it before, but when I had the X-ray, they found the cyst. Obviously that was prioritised and sorted first. But now the pain was back. As I showed Lady Hammett on the bus the previous Saturday, my gums weren't allowing the teeth to come through so it looked like I had two lumps in the back of my mouth. This was the main cause of the pain. After a dental appointment, I was told to book another one on Friday. So we did and I left school between second and third lesson after picking up the school's supply of Gouache and some notes for Business that I'd failed to receive before. I read some of Chuck Palahniuk's 'Non-Fiction' in the waiting room. After a brief conversation with Dr. Rai, my dentist, he injected my mouth and froze it. He told me it would feel like a scratching sensation, but he didn't tell me that it would feel like a needle going into my head, which shocked me so much that I almost didn't realise the pain. He then cut off the gum that was covering my wisdom tooth on the painful side, and then stuck some material in my mouth and told me to bite onto it for ten whole minutes. This left me unable to talk and feeling rude because I couldn't say Thank You. There's now a square shaped hole in the back of my mouth; it's painful, gross and not lady-like at all.

(ii) Lady Hammett. (Friday February Twelfth, Twenty-Ten. Part Two.)

Once I'd had a piece of my head removed (see above), I text Lady Hammett telling her that she could still come over because it wasn't as painful as expected. She ended up staying, which was cool, and we watched two amazing films: Pineapple Express and Wilde. Turns out her second favourite person, James Franco, was one of the main dudes that I love. (He's second after Jeff Buckley, duh.) We took some pictures of ourselves doing faces that were just wrong, and we spoke about girly stuff until Hell froze over. Thankfully, she was producing the main output for a change. I enjoyed it too, because with me there's always something new that I want to tell Lady Hammett, so to shut up and listen to her going on for ages about one thing was fun. We went to bed at four, then she spoke some more and we eventually fell asleep. She had to leave early the next day because I was meeting up with Ashmlee Willie Winkie at eleven in Llandeilo. I'm sad that Lady Hammett is going to Wells, I'm scared of being replaced and not have anyone to rant all my stupid girly crap to. If she keeps her blog up though, we can keep up to date with everything and I'll get her Christmas presents and Birthday presents and everything!

(iii) Swansea. (Saturday February Twelfth, Twenty-Ten. Part One.)

The Saturday previous, I went on a date with Sam Mitchell. This week, I went to Swansea again but with Ashmlee Willie Winkie. To everyone else, it would look like a date, and I suppose it was, but we didn't discuss that word! It still makes me blush see... Anyway, I showed him the best place in the whole of Swansea to get a pasty, especially if you're a vegetarian (which he isn't, but he is considerate this year because he said that if we go to Subway, he'd end up eating meat, meat and more meat). It's in the market, and it's but the entrance that's on the same street as Accessorise, Monsoon and Lush. The cheese and onion pasty is full of potato, so it's delicious, even though it did burn my tongue. Then we strolled to the cake stall diagonal to my Mother's Cousin soap stall, and then walked around the perimeter of the market a whole five times trying to find an empty bench. We didn't, so we went to O'Briens and got a tea and a coffee, and snuck in our cakes. Ashmlee Willie Winkie had chocolate cake, I had carrot cake. The lady next to us was drinking tea and I was watching her for no particular reason when all of a sudden her cup snapped clean in half in mid-air. It made me feel like Harry Potter when he gets peeved and his Aunt balloons. I was scared of being cautioned by the wizarding community then... haha. Anyway, we strolled around and kind of did nothing. I bought Taylor Swift's album and Frankmusik's album. I wanted to get Ellie Goulding's or Marina & The Diamonds' but they hadn't come out by then. Oh, and we found this place that sells every kind of milkshake imaginable (including Parma Violets, Peanut Butter and Chocolate and Skittles). I had the Nutella one, obviously. I'm going to go there on all of my Swansea trips. That way, I can make a mental League Table of the best ones, and when we're all up to it, it'll be fun for all of us to get gross ones as a laugh! We're all nerds anyway! At one point, at least one hundred people were crowded around the fountain watching the rugby on the huge television screen by McDonald's.

(iv) Those With An XY Chromosome. (Saturday February Twelfth, Twenty-Ten. Part Two.)

Ashmlee Willie Winkie came over and had pasta here, eventually staying the night because he works with Pa on Fridays and Sundays in The Fig Tree, and has done since the first time we went out four years ago. Mother was really upset when I left him, so Pa offered him a job. This year, he has an opinion which is amazing because that was one of his biggest flaws before. He even shook his head when I asked him if he liked So You Think You Can Dance because I was watching Tommy. Before he would've just shrugged. Anyway, I think we're kind of together, but two really scary things happened. The first one was that he looked like this creepy guy on the internet that I use to talk to, and the second thing was that when we were making out, I thought it would be funny to think of Meh, and when I did I was so turned on that I felt like crying because it wasn't Meh and never will be Meh. Then I thought of Blondie, which didn't make the situation much better. We ended up watching 'Silence of the Lambs'. I loved it and now need to see 'Hannibal' and read the books.

Take My Breath Away

Yesterday was the day that I became truly aware of my obsession. I was staring at Blondie (Lady Hammett named him), he isn't a new item on my VIP list but he has crawled back up to the top as of late. I'm scared to mention it too much at the moment though, lease don't ask why. Oh, and when I say top I don't mean Number One or anything. I DON'T RANK MY MEN! We were walking into the main building of the school and I thought about how lovely he was and how I should never even aspire to catch someone like that. (I know; I make them sound like Pokemon, get over it!) Then when I turned around to look where I was going, Meh was in arm's length. This was at 13.57 and it made me so excited to see him after a whole day without him walking past me that all of my feelings jolted and I felt like throwing up. Lately I've been feeling light headed, dizzy, nauseous, cold and have had the sniffles and a cold, so this feeling was completely complimentary of that! I'm not saying that he makes me want to vomit, I'm saying that he makes me go in overdrive! Lady Hammett wasn't in, so I couldn't run to her and tell her, but I caught lovely ickle Ceri on the stairs and told her all in one breath! I felt like such a sad chick, but I suppose I am! Oh well... I then had Sociology and the whole time I was just thinking about how amazing it would be just to catch him looking at me, even though I know it will never happen. I just want to find someone staring at me, why am I always the one doing the staring? It's not fair, am I the only one with the hots for the guys in my classes? I think it wore me out, because I went home and slept for twelve hours!

Poignant Moment of the Day

Picture the scene:

A bus stop full of a variety of children. Some males and some females, some pretty and some ugly, some thin and some fat (not mentioning any names). Everyone, apart from one girl in the corner wearing a huge black coat with a brightly coloured, handmade-by-Mother flower broach on the lapel, is talking about Six Nations - England vs Wales result. England beat Wales, and judging by their 'comments' they beat them pretty badly! The conversation is all about sport and then it drifts to Valentine's Day and how some of their parents are going to be completely 'sloshed' on the weekend. All of this is going on and that one girl in the corner wearing a huge black coat with a brightly coloured, handmade-by-Mother flower broach on the lapel is just stood staring at these people whilst listening to Jarvis Cocker and his narrative on society. His narrative on how everyone is obsessed with fitting in, having sex and getting even. His narrative on how once in a while there is someone who can see the things that really matter in life and get lost in their own world. This is me and I don't fit in. This is me and I never truly matured emotionally. This is me and I hope that all my dreams and ambitions won't be stomped on by a cruel harsh reality. This is me disobeying the rule of three. This is me and I hope you understand me. This is me and I don't know if I like it, but it does just fine. This is me and I'm hoping you enjoyed reading this. This is me and I'm embarrassed. This is me and I'm leaving you now. x

Art Attack, Heart Attack.

Monday morning means many things to many people, for us who attend Ysgol Tre-Gib, it means assembly. Lucy wasn't in school today, and neither was Guy, and these statements combined makes me think that it was because their bus didn't show up or it broke down. In assembly, we get split into boys and girls. Without Lucy, I only have Abi to keep me company. She happens to be talented and therefore was doing something with the orchestra. I was officially a loner, but so was Ashley, so I didn't feel so bad when he saw me.

First lesson was Art. Two people fainted; one being an unimportant, high cheek boned bitch who agrees with fox hunting and the other was the really pretty Angharad Dymond that I mentioned in my last post. Half an hour in and I'm having trouble with the white paint - it was blocked. I squeezed it and nothing came out, so I squeezed it as hard as I could. (It's hard to believe I'm in mostly top sets sometimes to be honest...) The lid flew off and the paint sprayed everywhere; on the top of my thigh, on the bottom of my jumper, on my face, in my hair, all over my hand, on my work and on Luke Gittins laptop. It was so embarrassing, and it looked so dodgy on my leg. Everyone laughed at me, although it was funny, so I don't think they were laughing at me much. Calum told me to control myself... The paint came off my face, Luke's laptop and my hand, but it sort of attained my trousers and top and it was in such a dodgy place! I think I've more or less finished the painting I was working on, so it's not all doom and gloom. Needless to say, I'm enjoying Art a lot more now.

Last lesson I had RE which meant a whole entire hour of sitting next to Meh. The paint was still there obviously, but I had hoped he wouldn't notice it. As soon as he came to sit in his seat next to me, he pointed at it and laughed. I pulled my 'not amused' face. He apologized and pretended to ignore me. We went through the RE exam, he had 52 out of 94 and I had 59 out of 94. We both had ridiculous answers though. For example, when asked to give two examples of how religious people react to God, Meh wrote (i) Pray and (ii) Celebrate, I wrote (i) Sacrifice things and (ii) Freak out at the all being, all knowing immortal. I got one mark out of four, he gone nothing. I won that round! Anyway, relentless teasing and patronizing resulted in me turning red two thirds of the way through the lesson. My personal best, I must add. He is so lovely. I sometimes just stare at him now. He's not even that nice looking, he's just so nice.

I can only think of five people that actually read this blog - Manny, Angus, Rhodri, Sam and Abi. Four out of five of those are boys, as you know, so I have to apologize about going on about boys. At least you get an insight into the female mind! xD

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...