Vuvuzela (or something)

On the night if July 25. 2010, I went to bed at six in the morning. I then awoke at half past twelve and left the house at half past one in the afternoon. Destination? CARDIGAN! Nothing much happened on the car journey, I sat and listened to Hollywood Undead, The Smiths and Alkaline Trio, then when I got out of the car, I fell and smacked myself in the throat with the book that I am currently reading, 'Hannibal' by Thomas Harris. (I must add that I looked good today - size six turquoise vest, my darling flares, a white and navy starry neckerchief. Oof.) Then I was weighed and measured, which was different as they had a weighing chair, then I gave Pa my iPod and he started watching 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' on it, as instructed. (He finished watching it later and thoroughly enjoyed.)

Anyway, we saw Dr. Fountain-Polley and after a brief conversation, he said that we might never get to the bottom of the back pain and that he'd be putting me on new pain medication (the name of which sounds like VUVUZELA!) because he thinks that when I'm uncomfortable, my brain screams "PAIN!", so I don't do anything and therefore don't build up the muscles or core stability required for me to do things properly. For example, I've been given some exercises by my physiotherapist, but because they're so uncomfortable, I thought I was in pain, so I didn't do them, which meant that I was back at square one. This medication, that I have to take regularly (three a day with four paracetamols a day for six weeks to tackle the pain from 'two completely different angles'), will enable me to do my exercises. Then my brain will sort of be 're-wired' and I will be able to carry on doing them without any medication. If this doesn't work, he said he'd have to have a serious conversation with the both of us. Now, I remember before when he said that all the people at the pain clinic do is stick people on anti-depressants, which leads me to believe that maybe this 'serious conversation' will be about putting me on those.

I hope something turns up on my MRI, if that's what that idiot Dr. Richards meant when he said 'special scan'. Let's hope it's special in that it actually shows something that's wrong with me. Yeah?

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!

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.

The Hay Festival, 2010

Monday, May Thirty-First, Twenty-Ten. This is the day I've been waiting for. This is the day that occurred yesterday. This is the day that as time goes by, gets further and further into the past.

Everybody knows about The Hay Festival of Literature and Arts. It's been hailed as 'the Woodstock of the mind' by Bill Clinton and is ever increasing. It was started in the late eighties, is an annual occurrence and spans over ten days. It originally only featured literature based events, but thankfully has expanded to include music, films, stand up and many other things. Is it a high society thing? Not really. Is it perceived as being so? Yes. I honestly think that that's only due to the interest in literature or arts (no matter what that may be) that you require to actually want to go. I'm not interested in drugs, I'm not interested in drink and I'm not interested in sex. I don't eat meat, I don't party and I don't have much in common with the media's perception of teenagers, and yes, you guessed it - I wanted to go to The Hay Festival.

My friend invited me to see Tim Minchin with her, and after a long conversation with my parents, which I dare not bore you with, it was decided that if I could get someone to go with me, I could go. Tickets cost a mere £15, and I say mere because he's really making a name for himself so I'm expecting ticket prices to mushroom by next year unless he does something spectacularly wrong. The person I got? My beloved Ashmlee Willie Winkie. He paid for his own ticket obviously, but it's all cocaine baby because he has a job and walks around with over £100 pounds in his wallet, which we've constantly told him not to do but to no effect. The car journey wasn't too bad, nor was it too eventful. I can't remember the time we left, or the time that we arrived, and it doesn't really make a difference to the story, with which I'm simplifying a lot to save time and energy for you guys.

We minced about for a few hours. We looked in stalls, Mother and I rushed to buy a The Guardian's Hay Festival bag each (which came free with a £1 Guardian that nobody really wanted), we looked for food but were shocked at the prices and lack of vegetarian food, Ashmlee Willie Winkie laughed at the ice cream stall that used sheep's milk to make their ice cream I stared wide-eyed in slight horror at a woolly jumper that looked like it was covered in swastikas and we caught the shuttle bus to town. We bought food from a small place called Oscar's, and I bought two CDs for £5 from the huge amount of CDs being sold, there were at least thirty standard school desk tables completely covered in music. I bought 'Nude' by Suede, and 'This Is Hardcore' by Pulp. Yes I am getting heavily involved in Britpop, the nineties scene. My parents bought me a cowboy voodoo doll thing and a pair of adorable bumblebee voodoo doll earrings which I wore to Tim Minchin. They also bought me a ladybug lapel pin, which is adorable. We roamed around two vintage stores (upon which I saw a girl dressed completely head to toe in vintage and realised that I could never carry it off), a bookshop which specialises in murder and mystery and the Castle Bookshop. We then caught the shuttle bus back to the festival sight so the two of us could meet up with the original friend who had invited me and her friend in the queue with one hour and a quarter to go. We could hear him through the tent and got overly excited. We went in and sat about six rows from the front. Tim Minchin came out and the three of us girls squealed and even Ashmlee Willie Winkie let out a smile not too dissimilar to our manic faces. He started off with 'Rock 'n Roll Nerd' and went through many songs and stand up moments. It was amazing. He went off track a few times and handed hecklers in such an amusing fashion. Of course, we all thought the hecklers were in their twenties, but it turned out they were in their thirties or forties (why isn't there a 'U' in that?) and were rather lovely. They seemed like paedophiles, but I think they were just a bit drunk and gay, and yes, I can judge all this because I met them when we were queueing up to meet the man himself. My friend made a spectacle of herself to one of the security staff men, who was oh so lovely about the whole thing. I won't go into it, because it annoyed Ashmlee Willie Winkie and myself. She is two years younger than me though. Stereotypes have some truth behind them, and there's a reason why thirteen year old girls are ridiculed. I don't care if she's fourteen, it still applies. She went insane about having to queue, I explained that it's because we're British and were raised with manners. She wanted to barge. I was sarcastic. The sarcasm might have been lost on her.

Tim Minchin signed all of our tickets, and Ashmlee Willie Winkie was so excited! I thought it would be quite sweet to all have a photo together, the three of us. It also saved a lot of time as the whole thing seemed very rushed. I don't care, I met the man, I'm a lucky bum! I said to Pa when he fetched us, "You'd be pleased to know that I was more excited to meet the Australian than to meet the drag artist," in referral to meeting Jeffree Star. He seemed pleased to say the least...

PostScript: I'm going to enter the festival's short story competition. There's a cash price, although it's not as big as you's imagine, and it has to be about Avarice. I haven't read the terms or the rules, but I'm excited nevertheless!

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.

The Day of Being Christian

Ashmlee Willie Winkie and I were going to go to Carmarthen last week, so we caught a bus to Ammanford at around midday (the bus driver drove off when I was walking down the aisle and I actually did fall flat on my butt) and then we had to wait two hours to catch a bus to Carmarthen, we bummed around for about an hour and a half before deciding that it was pointless going since we wouldn't have much time to do anything anyway, so I phoned GrandPapi to pick us up. He was nasty to me at the start but when he realised that it was I, Tofu, he came straight away. He'd obviously thought that I was my sister (long story, and even if you've already heard it, there's now more). I put on an old CD that my sister and I made, that was the soundtrack to our lives two years ago, and although I've outgrown it, I still like it. Nikki FM by Hawthorne Heights came on, which has very a suicidal line, and when GrandPapi got in the car, he brought an old man that I'd never even seen before and turned up the volume. I could've died in awkwardness and Ashmlee Willie Winkie was laughing at me being embarrassed. Upon returning home, we watched loads of cartoons that we grew up to (I.M. Weasel, Spongebob Squarepants, Sylvester and Tweety, etc...), Doctor Who, Britain's Got Talent, I'm In A Rock 'n Roll Band and then A Bit of Fry And Laurie. We fell asleep and decided that we'd go to Carmarthen next Saturday.

Yesterday, we didn't make exactly the same mistake as last week. (I made a new mistake however because I judged the day's temperature on the temperature at half past seven, so by throwing on my wooly gray cardigan over my Used vest top, I was boiling hot later on in the day.) We woke up at around seven, and Ashmlee Willie Winkie caught the bus from his stop and ten minutes later I got on it at my stop. This time I didn't fall. Mother asked why we decided to get up at such an ungodly hour, to which I replied "For a laugh." We got off at Ammanford and had to wait one and a half hours for the bus to Carmarthen, but at least this time we would have plenty of enough time to have fun there. The only places in Ammanford that were open were the bakers (Jenkins on the left and Greggs opposite it on the right), Specsavers and Tesco. It was so early that only old people were awake and everyone looked at us as if we were Christians. We stuffed our faces and played in the park before jumping on the bus that was full of old people. Half way through the bus journey, I did my dislocating thumb trick to counter Ashmlee Willie Winkie's more disgusting dislocating thumb trick, and the nice guy behind us (that Ashmlee Willie Winkie had given the time to earlier) said, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be looking or anything, but that's weird." I was so embarrassed and said, whilst bright red, "Well at least I didn't do the one where my foot is the same level as my head..." I remained red for the rest of the bus journey. Nothing much happened in Carmarthen. I popped in about ten clothes shops looking for a reasonably priced shirt to put over my vest top and I could only find one that was anywhere near my price range, but they only had sizes sixteen, eighteen and twenty, not the size eight that I am or the six ten that I like in shirts. We met up with my sister for a bit and then got a bus back to Llandeilo to walk down to Ashmlee Willie Winkie's house so he could pick up his copy of Fantastic Mr. Fox because I really wanted to watch it (especially since Jarvis Cocker has a song and a minor character called Petey in it). I loved it. There was a digital copy, a DVD and a Blu-Ray version of it in one box, so thanks to the digital copy, I now have it on my iPod. I never thought it would be so funny, and it's only one hour twenty minutes. We could've watched it in the time that we spent in Ammanford waiting for the bus to Carmarthen and still had ten minutes to spare! We then watched my Saturday night programmes (Doctor Who, Britain's Got Talent, I'm In A Rock 'n Roll Band) before going to bed. He went to bed on top of my bed in the sleeping bag that we bought him last year and I went to bed in my parent's stupidly comfortable bed. Pa told me to not sleep on his side because I have 'disgusting sleeping habits', so I didn't, although I still managed to make a dribble lake on his pillow which wasn't intentional! Oops.

Oh, and quickly to add, I've been talking to 'Mr. Shit, I Haven't Got A New Name For Him Yet And The Old One's Inappropriate' about my latest Cameron and Clegg Fantasy, and nearly died of laughing when I typed the following on his wall. I just thought I'd share it with you because I nearly died of laughter!

He glares over at Nick, and instantly all of the unfinished paper work and the state of the economy meant nothing to him. He just wanted to cradle Nick and take away his hurt pride. Nick shook his head and left leaving David alone with his thoughts and his HARD ON!

♥

the Thing, the Allergy, the Spider, the Channel.

So I survived Lady Hammett's Aunti's house 'thing' and I might've exaggerated everything in my head due to fear. In the end, I wore my balloony purple top over a black long sleeve and black skinnies. Since my hair is black now, just the tiniest bit of black clothing makes it look like you're wearing all black, so I tied a floral scarf in my hair and put on silvery eye shadow (with black liquid near the mascara-coated lashes of course), and and my coral nail varnish! It makes me happy to look at, I need to buy more bright colours. I stayed over Lady Hammett's house, and then got picked up by GrandPapi. (It was actually really funny, as my phone started going and I looked at Lady Hammett and said, "It'll be my grandad going [impression of GrandPapi] I'M OUTSIDE!" and then, when I answered the phone, all you could hear was GrandPapi going "I'M OUTSIDE!" to which we laughed.) I got in the car, smirked at the old man and put Johnny Cash on. The song in question: One Piece At A Time.

We went to Gegin Fach (a tiny cafe in Llandeilo that's usually full of OAPs where I'm hopefully going to get a Summer job), met Mother and had food. Then, instead of walking down to Ashmlee Willie Winkie's as planned, we drove down and picked him up to take him with us to Leekes. He wasn't home, he was in Ben's, but walked over just before I lazily made my way over. We had a chocolate muffin each, and a hot chocolate with cream each, then we left. I had fun at home playing with his face and showing Mother the outcomes. We napped, went downstairs, Mother made him food (pasta with sauce) and made me a snack (Pringles to dip in the same sauce but in a pot), and we settled on the couch watching freak programmes. Programmes such as 101 Things Removed From The Human Body, Another 101 Things Removed From The Human Body, Surgical Appliances That Were Left Behind, and something to do with amazing medical stories. He slept on the couch again, and was gone by the next morning. I read fifty pages of Silas Marner the next day and it nearly killed me. I then started itching my arm again, therefore leading us to believe that Ashmlee Willie Winkie is my allergy. It only happens on Sundays, after I've seen him on Saturday.

Today, the first official day of the holiday, and I woke up a few times before finally getting out of bed at 14:26 to a sleeping house. I woke the house up (turned all the lights on and let the dogs out). Last night, not only did I have an itch, I also had a splitting headache that caused me to lose my peripheral vision when I stood up and forced me to wear sunglasses that look like they were from the sixties since the lights in the room (which was only candlelight) hurt me. The rents found it pretty funny anyway. I blame the fact that I read a whole fifty pages of Silas Marner! I'm better now though. Anywho, Mary started crying and I took her out the back. I closed the door and then saw a hideous, fat, petrifying spider and shrieked. Santi ran in and toyed with it for about two minutes, at one point sitting on it and trying to go under the mat because he thought it was under there. When he found it under his fat arse, he picked it up with his paw and ate it. He's a very smart cat indeed. I then fetched him some food to help it go down because I was actually scared that it would come up and attack me. I can't kill living things myself, and I have often let spiders live in the house against the rents will, but when it's as scary as this one was then I must let Santi intervene. It is just like a treat after all..? He's not a murderer, he's a saviour! MY KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR! xD

I almost jizzed when We Are Scientists came on television (NME of course) with their new song 'Rules' and oh sweet Jesus, I love Keith and his voice! I turned it up louder than I normally would with sleeping rents, but they deserve to be played loud! Once that finished, I pressed [channel down] and HOLY CRAP! The Academy Is... were just on television! There's an amazing new channel called Lava (underneath NME Tv, Sky 378) and I literally love every song on it. It has bands that I never thought I'd see on the television, just on the internet. Like Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, The Academy Is... and The Wombats. They also show really old videos, like The Automatic and Paramore's first videos. Plus, at night they have unsigned bands, which is an amazing way of finding new pocket bands to say you've been there since the start with. I now have five channels, although only four really since Scuzz isn't my thing anymore though. I still have MTV2, Kerrang! (just about), NME Tv, and now Lava!

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.

The Ten Hour Exam

The ten hour Art exam, sounds horrible right? It's probably the word exam that makes it sound so horrible - but when you're sat in a class full of clowns who won't shut up and are really entertaining, on top of someone making a random, dodgy-looking instrument behind you, you realise that this is nothing like it's meant to be and in no way does it need to be dreaded as much as you dreaded it moments before this realisation... (It looks like a long post, but it seriously shouldn't take too long.)

Part One - Tuesday March Ninth, Twenty-Ten.

I woke up earlier than usual to try to ensure a decent mood throughout the day. Since I'd be doing Art for the whole entire school day, I tied my hair up. This is me being practical, but it made me self-conscience about my raggedy ears. They were really cold and unhappy, they don't like being looked at. Anyway, on the bus I listened to my Jarvis playlist, which I had stuck in my head for the whole entire day (not that I'm complaining), and I didn't talk to Bitch Mouth because I told him not to talk to me this week due to stress and annoyance. I warned everyone not to mention the hair, but Lady Hammett did, which vexed me somewhat. She and I then went off to the ladies' lavatory to put my TNS machine on. I then made a quick appearance in form before zooming up to the ceramics room. I felt really sick at this point. Miss pointed at a seat, and I sat in the one opposite it because I like to see what everyone else is doing. Gopher sat in front of me, which was nice, but would've been nicer if I still fancied the pants off him (although he does have one of the prettiest smiles in the planet), Whore was next to me and Mr Sex Change was diagonal to me. I didn't mind this until half way through the fifth hour... Gopher and I picked up our stretched A2 paper and got our gouache out, I popped over to the sink to ensure that I had my two favourite paintbrushes, and I grabbed a paint lid (oh sorry, pallet) and a transparent plastic cup. I organized everything neatly and systematically - right angles staring up at me because I really can be THAT anal. Smooth wasn't there, he was in hospital.

It took me less than half an hour to draw the picture of Floss, the same picture that I posted in this blog before but bigger, and when I realised how quickly I'd done it, all the feeling of sickness subsided, I was going to be fine. I started painting the brown bits first, which brought me up to break time, then I painted all of the greys and background in the second hour, and did the second coat of those colours in the third hour. I had lunch, where Ashmlee Willie Winkie gave me a huge Aero bar (that I paid for) and he fetched me some milk (which I also paid for), and I saw Lady Hammett, Skank, Squidward and Kiwee for half a second. Ashmlee Willie Winkie and I walked around the school and sat down for a bit, it was sweet. I then made a second appearance in form and zoomed up to the ceramics room for my fourth and fifth hour. For the first of the two hours, I painted the black part. Then in the final hour of the first day, I painted a second coat on her. During this, I leant over the table facing Mr Sex Change. I was getting peeved because my tie kept touching the paint, so Mr Sex Change told me to take it off, which I did because it made a lot of sense. It was ten minutes until I realised that my boobs were practically out, and I was ever so embarrassed! I wanted to cry and run out of the exam... The thought of him seeing them repulsed me, and still does. I cleaned away, and then realised that I'd forgotten to paint a square inch maximum in the corner. I zoomed to the sink to soak my paintbrush, stole some of Mr Sex Change's gouache and painted it. I was really upset when I realised that I must've leant on her nose with black on my wrist, so there was a black smudge on her white nose. We all walked around then, perving on each other's work.

That was the end of the first day, and then I went Mother's Day shopping.

Part Two - Friday March Twelfth, Twenty-Ten.

Again, I woke up earlier and actually got out of bed at quarter past eight, as opposed to the usual twenty-five past eight. I did my face and tied my hair up (again) then caught the bus, listening to a mixture of Elliot Minor songs and The Smiths. I couldn't really be bothered to talk, so I walked Lady Hammett and Dorian to the music room and then zoomed to form. I went up to Art and was pretty chuffed when Smooth sat next to Gopher and diagonal to me. He was so entertaining, he spent most of the time glancing around the room for something more entertaining to distract him. Fair play though, his drawing was really good, even though it took him four hours to draw.

It again took me around half an hour to draw Santi with clouds in the background, then I painted the sky blue. Thankfully, it only needed one coat because it was so thick. I then painted the brown part of Santi. I stole Gopher's bright lime gouache and painted Santi's eyes. Then there was a break, where Lady Hammett, Ginger and I spoke about Smooth for about ten minutes. Meh walked past and I just remembered the whole Welsh thing. (I spoke to my teacher about it, and she said "I don't expect you to start dating or anything!" to which I gave myself away by turning my own special shade of crimson.) I then went back to Art and painted the grey parts of the clouds. I did the second coat of all of the colours, and then started on the first coat of black on him. Dinner time, everyone was in a weird mood (or it might've been me..?) so Ashmlee Willie Winkie and I sat in 'the cave', listening to his iPod whilst I scribbled some notes in my prep work in case my teacher collected the work in, which she didn't. When I got back to Art, I did the second coat of black and then tried to sort his eyes out. I did the same green as my Grandparents' upstairs bathroom for the majority of his eyes, and a mustard coloured line around his pupils. I then did the white dots that give the pictures life and added a darker tone of brown to the original ones, just to improve it. With an hour to spare, I fixed Floss' nose by painting it white and then re-doing Floss' unique brown smudge next to her nose. This cheered me up loads because I plan on keeping the picture forever. I want to hang it up. I am that proud of it!

So that was it. The feeling was bitter sweet to be honest. No more lessons to be missed but no more painful necks. It's all pros and cons I guess... When I got home, I listened to a mixture of The Smiths and We Are Scientists and fell asleep for two hours. When I woke up, I had a microwave pasta meal (as Mother and Testicles had chilli) and then went upstairs to watch some My So-Called Life - I'm on the third disk out of five, and about to start the fourth. I then had a mug of tea with a mini-roll and a brief conversation before buggering off upstairs again to carry on watching Jared Leto in the awesome mid-90s teen drama.

Peace Up, Peace Out!

x

The Week Before HELL.

So Monday night, I'm home alone and therefore obviously on the one and only worthwhile social networking website for my particular age group - go on and try to guess what on Earth I'm talking about! Whilst clicking 'become a fan' of random statements that I agree with or find amusing, I get a phone call from Mother. She's decided we were to be going to the Cotswolds on Tuesday, the day of my mock Welsh oral. Does she know this? Hell no! Did I care? Not in the slightest (Y)

The most gutting part had to be that I pretty got up at the same time as I usually do. I hate when you don't have to go to school, but you get up the same time. It leaves you feeling hollow on the inside, thinking about the lie-in that you should be having as a reward for not going to school. I got up though and put on my skinniest pair (and therefore favourite pair) of black skinnies, my new AMAZING Nike shoes, my New Look 'Rockstar' long jumper, my turquoise American Apparel zip-up, my ancient New Look black jacket thing, a creamy zebra print head band and my favourite Chihuahua necklace from Eden. Whilst walking from the car park to a nomnomnom place, we passed a little wooden shop, so we went in there and bought this wall thing that looks like a house but is actually a key holder. It's cute. We then went to the gallery that we always go to and viewed menus in four different places, the first two had little choice but did offer pea soup so I would've been happy, the third was just in passing and the fourth was somewhere that we normally go, and Pa and I had homity pie (which I usually have in school). We then went browsing in random shops, like Oxfam, Fat Face and a button shop, before heading over to Cirencester cathedral. I sat in there like a vain pig, redoing my head band and eye liner, whilst Pa was in a weird mood and Mother walked around in awe, like she has done the last 1,000,000,000 times we've gone there. I just don't seem to care much for cathedrals or churches or any religious places to be honest. Mother still argues that I'm a Christian because I've been Christened - she refuses to listen when I prove her wrong with what my RE teacher told the class. Seriously though, I couldn't keep my eyes off these English guys! We then zoomed to Cardiff, which we didn't really want to do, but it was getting late and most places would be closed in Swansea by the time we arrived. We went to two Pizza Hut's and in the first, they were really rude, and in the second, they'd run out of dough but were very polite. We then went to Pizza Express, but it was freezing in there so we went to Zizzi's which we love anyway, and we were served by this not-so-bad-on-the-eyes guy called James, who we realised was gay as soon as he opened his mouth. Tsss... Not cool.

Here's a list of things that went on between Wednesday and Friday:

I had to explain my absence in History to Lady Hammett, I was called repulsive by Squidward, I text a group of people asking them if I was just to prove that I'm not, I was prioritised in the hugging department by Digby, I met my new doctor, I had a row from my Welsh teacher for not being in school when I had my mock Welsh oral, I received my report (which had a double Business page and no Physics page), I spoke a few sentences to Smooth without exploding, I lost it to a Virgo, I nearly died in PE, I was called 'Foundation Girl' in referral to Welsh by my friend who's turned really bitter to me about the whole thing and I had a review with the Headmaster. Oh, and yes I know I should call her a Headmistress, but words changing for sexism and racism has gone too far. Isn't it better to treat people the same and not give people different words based on their sex? Feminism can get screwed. Then to top it all off, Lady Hammett stayed over and we watched two episodes of The IT Crowd, one episode of The Mighty Boosh and Blades Of Glory. We went to bed at gone three in the morning.

Saturday morning, we were meant to catch the quarter past eight bus to Swansea, as I had arranged on Wednesday (the same day I was called repulsive), but then on Friday night Cherry text me to tell me that the Brynaman bus would arrive in Ammanford at twenty past eight and that she 'hadn't had time' to check the times. (It took me about three minutes to check all of the bus times on the internet in my Business lesson.) This seriously annoyed me, so we had to bum around Ammanford until ten to nine, which really wasn't cool. We then zoomed to Swansea, zoomed over to Vue, waited for it to open and then went in and bought our tickets. Lady Hammett bought a large popcorn for the two of us and told me I didn't have to pay her, but she only ate like, three handfuls. I ate it all basically! Ashmlee Willie Winkie was there, so I saw him for a bit, then we went straight in and watched the film, which I can't be arsed to review (because I like to review things properly and in depth). However, I will tell you that my favourite character is now the March Hare, and my ultimate favourite part of the film simply had to be: [booming Scottish accent] YOU'RE ALL LATE FOR TEA! I'm not even joking, I nearly wet my pants. Seriously, I love him! After that, we strolled around Swansea, visiting the Blue Banana, Claire's, Top Shop, the special pasty place (Cherry rated her pasty an eight, Lady Hammett rated her pasty a nine and I rated my pasty a ten), Derrik's Music, Hobo's and Eden. We then went to the Mad Cow (Lady Hammett had a Nutella milkshake whilst Cherry and I had Kinder Bueno milkshakes) and then met up with Cherry's friends Shaun (Crumple) and Amy. They're lovely! Even if Crumple is obsessed with someone that seriously hurt me without giving it any though, y'know Fag from a few posts ago? Yeah, well him. Amy was lovely and crazy, which is grand. Lady Hammett went quiet, but that's here prerogative so..? We saw Ashmlee Willie Winkie again, which was grand! We went to the Blue Banana twice more because Crumple is obsessed, but to make up, he bought us Subway cookies, so it's all cocaine baby! On the bus, Amy went sick (poor thing), I took loads of pictures of Lady Hammett doing hideous faces and Midget REALLY annoyed us. Oh, and for reasons I can't be bothered to explain, I was being called Simpson Girl by this guy called Chris. Cherry started saying that she was going to be killed because her mother wanted her home by seven, which she failed to tell us. Why do people have such shit organising skills? It turns out the next bus to Brynaman was quarter past eight, which is slightly ironic as that's the same time that I wanted to catch the bus this morning! When we got home, Lady Hammett told me that she's busy on the weekend of the seventeenth of March so I have to wait to see I Love You Phillip Morris, which I'm really upset about but understand. Plus, it turns out that Jeffree Star and BrokeNCYDE are coming to Sin City, so I'm hoping I can go to that! I fell asleep at around half nine, and went to bed at around eleven.

I have my Welsh oral exam tomorrow and I haven't revised at all. I've prioritised my ten hour Art exam which is this Tuesday and Friday. This I am not happy about. Another thing I'm not happy about is that I woke up at nine this morning, but only got out of bed at noon. Then this blog post took an hour to write, so that's four hours that could've been spent on Art gone. Stressed? Of course, but I'm not going to act like Squidward about it...

The Day I Walked Four Miles

Next Saturday, I'm going to the cinema with Cerian, Kate (her 'plus one') and Abi (my 'plus one') to see Tim Burton's 'Alice In Wonderland' (since Cerian and I have been waiting with much excitement to see it since rumours of the project were first announced). After that, I have to go up to the Rugby Club with Mother for BitchMouth's older brother's eighteenth birthday bash. He's doing A Level English and Mother tutors him because he's atrocious! We'll only be going for an hour because we aren't the kind of people to go to those places. Therefore, I went up to Ffairfach to see Ashmlee Willie Winkie this Saturday, so he wouldn't be too disappointed in not seeing me when I'm in Swansea.

I didn't make a special effort to wake up early, so I got out of bed at 13.30 and got to Ashmlee Willie Winkie's house in Ffairfach by 15.00 after I'd bathed and made myself decent. First we stood around in his house awkwardly, then we walked up to the gallery in Llandeilo. I was told that my work resembled some artist called Esther something, so I made the special effort to go up to check her out. I've never been so insulted! She paints £300 smudges that aren't even recognisable half the time. My paintings don't look like smudges! (I've included my favourite animal one to prove my point!) Then we strolled to CK's and the Co-operative (both circled in turquoise on the map). I bought a large packet of plain Aero and one of those little milk bottles (semi-skimmed of course), whilst Ashmlee Willie Winkie bought a large packet of mint Aero, a can of Coke and a packet of crisps. We ate all of this pretty quickly. Then I had the great idea of having an adventure and walking up to the bandstand (which is circled in yellow on the map). We instead chose to go down a wooded area where a deer cull is currently being undergone, there was a faint path but it was so slippery and muddy that it was more hazardous than helpful. Then we ended up at an abandoned church and graveyard. Seriously, some of the people there were from the 1800s! They had cool names too, so I took a picture of around three and plan to use them for inspiration. We then strolled through the fields, seeing an adorable lamb on the way. I loved it anyway, but when it got up and limped up to us with a broken leg my heart could've exploded. Then it limped off. I don't know the RSPCA number, but last time I phoned them they said they couldn't do anything about the bird with it's wing hanging off. Arseholes. Anyway, we walked through around three fields and then I saw Dinefwr Castle. New adventure, duh! We trekked up there, our legs breaking in half, and then explored every inch of the castle possible. The steps up to some of the towery bits were so steep that they actually touched the back of my knee (which is around 18inches). I've pulled my right thigh in the process! Then as it was getting dark, we left. At one point, I skidded and landed face first into Ashmlee Willie Winkie. I started talking about how old the castle must be, and I was rather impressed when he remembered the phrase 'motte and bailey castle'. When we were in the fields, the moon was full and the clouds were strolling past it. I joked that these were the kind of scenes where the werewolves come streaming out of the forest and eat their victims. It was really dark when we finally got out of the fields.I know it's awful, but I'm a little bit scared of people with mental problems, you never know what they're thinking and they're revolting. (We all have faults, right?) You can imagine my horror when one came over to Ashmlee Willie Winkie and myself asking if we'd seen a dachshund. She made me think of one of the infected people in 28 Days Later, which sort of freaked me out! We passed a sign saying 'Bogwood Boardwalk' which tickled us, and then when we reached the main road, we went to Spar for Ashmlee Willie Winkie to buy a drink. We then popped on a bus and zoomed to my house.

When home, I tied his hair up and then abused him a bit. Then we ate pizza and watched Underworld: Rise Of The Lycans with my parents. I loved it! Michael Sheen has always teetered on my 'weird man crush' list, but now he's properly included as one of the mains! Oof! NOMNOMNOM! Ashmlee Willie Winkie and I went upstairs and made out for a bit whilst listening to my 'Jarvis' playlist (which is a mix of his solo stuff and Pulp). I kept giggling at how inappropriate some of the lyrics were. After that, Pa took him home and then the Brownies sat and watched Underworld and Underworld: Evolution. This took us up to about 05.00, so I went up to bed and read some of Red Dragon by Thomas Harris before eventually falling asleep. I also text my lovely Lady Hammett for a bit. After writing this, I printed out the map with our snail trail on and with a piece of string, measured how far we walked. The results were 22, 500 feet which is 4 miles or 7 kilometres, whatever floats your boat. No wonder my leg is still killing me!

The Scenes That Books Miss.

Wednesday, Ceramics Room, Lunch time. Lady Hammett and I were ranting, raving and rating. Smooth (previously referred to as Blondie) was there and then he wasn't, and then he was. Lady Hammett and I gave him a 8.5 and 9.5 for appearances, and n/a and 8.5 for personality. (Lady Hammett has never really had any contact with him, so I didn't push her to a number. I've already had plenty of embarrassing moments with him, but when my bra started to slip down with my phone in it and my instant reaction was to hoist it up and he saw, laughed and winked, that was a bit too much. Then he started making a fuss that I'd scoffed the whole entire Haribo packet (a new vegetarian option) when in fact, I'd shared them. The whole point of fussing was that he wanted one and I hadn't made a special attempt to give him one. I was too embarrassed. During the lesson before lunch, he told me he owned a wolf and I got over-excited until he laughed and told me he didn't. That was also embarrassing.

Thursday, Ceramics Room, Period three. I walk in the room and stare at Smooth, his nose has paint on. He looks up at me and I look away, ashamed to admit that I love finding an actual reason to stare at him.

Thursday, form, afternoon registration. Smooth and Chin burst in laughing their asses off. They're taunting some fat mental kid in the room across the corridor. I've never seen two people of their age laugh so much. It was hilariously adorable. They sit down and when I look up I see Smooth and Chin playing with roll-on lip balm. Chin licks the tip of it, Smooth licks the length of it, they both sit there with disgusted faces sticking their tongues out at random intervals. It's a picture! Then Smooth sticks his finger in front of Chin's mouth to make him be quiet like we did in primary school. Chin licks it, Smooth freaks out. When we left form, I saw a moth and was so horrified that my heart started racing uncontrollably and I couldn't breath.

All of these incredibly embarrassing, quirky little moments that make life unique and funny... Why don't they happen in the books? Why can't books be a little bit more realistic (as BitchMouth would say)? I mean, come on people! Let's make this shit work! xD

For My Shareholders

Meh. Hello, Hey. Yeah good ta, yourself? Glad to hear, glad to hear. What's that? You want me to tell you why I freak out when I talk to you? Oh, don't worry about it. No seriously, you don't want to know. But it's embarrassing! Oh fine then. It's because I really have the hots for you and I know it's stupid because I don't know you much, and you're only in two of my classes; one of which you never even glance in my direction, and I would know because I'm always looking in yours. That is unless Obsessor has upset me, then I'm looking around for something to distract me because I don't want you to see me upset and then avoid me because you think I'm some self-harming, moping female. Only when you think of your RE lessons do you ever vaguely remember me, you don't even remember me when you walk straight past me in the corridor and leave me to stand there in a daze thinking about how you'll never remember me (unless it's for the wrong reasons) and you'll never be interested in me. I know, it's petty. Thinking of this now makes it impossible to think of you without becoming depressed. I don't even know why I like you...

Panda Pie. You know I like you. You always knew that I liked you, and you never liked me. There was a time once when I thought that you did have tiny feelings for you, but the fact that I know I'll never even kiss you (unless I meet you drunk in which I shall force myself upon you) is why I've decided you never have and never will. You're obviously just naturally flirtatious, or lovely, either way you have a following including myself. I remember when we use to kick the back of Chicken's Bum's chair, and she'd glare at us, then we'd just shrug and I'd laugh because I couldn't help but laugh and smile when I was near you. That's still the case really. When I saw you yesterday, I wanted to cry and attack you with hugs and tears. Remember when I started crying when you told me you were leaving and would never see me again? You must remember, you were really shocked that I cared that much and I think the penny dropped that I liked you. Yeah, well when I realised that I'd probably never see you again a year ago I cried, a lot. Pathetic, I know, but that's my style. Hearing that you'd been all over that dancer shattered any new hope I had. I can't even aspire to be anything like I'm guessing she was. I'm simply too me, too not your kind. This seems to be a recurring pattern in my thoughts, sorry.

Fag. I only met up with you once, and then you 'turned' and for some reason, I got really upset. No explanation really, just some hope being shattered so early on was painful to come to terms with. Then every time I saw you your smile faded, every time you spoke about me to my sister you apparently called me a 'stalker' and every time I looked at you your eyes darted away. I didn't do anything. You just didn't text back one day after you got back with your ex-boyfriend. Okay so I wrote a poem about it, and I cried about it every single time I went near Tesco. I think it was more confusion than general upset, although you do look exactly like the prettiest and most perfect girl ever to have graced a modelling programme.

Stoner. You've ruined every single relationship I've ever had. Who would guess that you'd have such an impact on my life! I was with you when I got drunk for the first time, you'd just finished with me when I started self-harming and I've cheated on loads of my boyfriends with you. I think it's important to state that it's not you that I believe I fell in love with, it's who you were. I know 'love' is a big word and I never use it with it's original meaning, but no other relationship has had such an impact and never have I ever felt the same way. I still can't resist you though. Hell, we were over and done with in 2007 so why am I so ridiculous?

Frog. You have the worst family in the local area. I know all about it and you know what? I never ever doubted that you were one of the loveliest people ever. You made me so happy when Tess had made me cry, and I even lied to my family to see you, but never did you kiss me. Was the timing not right or was I not pretty enough for you? Okay so we're quite different as far as civilisation is concerned, but I liked you and I wanted to kiss you. Now you're going out with Chicken's Bum. I can't help but compare her to me and it's actually quite insulting. I don't want to say it, but maybe I was a little bit out of your league in that maybe I was too smart or had too much ambition, because none of your friends are on a par and Chicken's Bum doesn't seem to be either. Still, I really like you, because you are lovely.

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.

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

Ewan McGregor Causes Teen Jizz! xD

So today I went to Swansea with Sam Mitchell and we went to the cinema and saw Youth In Revolt, which stared Michael Cera as his usual self. I wore my sexy new Nike shoes. Then, on our way to the bus (which we didn't catch because it was full) we saw Lord and Lady Hammett having a stroll in WHSmiths. We collaborated and became the coolest kids in town. That's not what I'm going to rabbit on about though... I have an even bigger fish to fry!

We were sat three rows back from the screen, we had our bags on the floor, I had a bottle of water in my right hand and my right arm was bent at the elbow; I was comfortable. The trailers were loud and a majority of them were fast-paced; I had seen many of them before. Then everything changed.

A silent green screen appeared before me. My favourite colour completely caught my attention and a little buzz hummed in my stomach. (Like when Sims clap at their favourite things, this is my personal reaction, a humming buzz in my tum.) Jim Carrey appeared on the screen, I wasn't as excited as before, but not disappointed either. He's an amazing actor and a hilarious guy, but he doesn't tend to be in the films that you pay around £7 to see in the cinema. The film seemed funny, had a twist. Then, for the first time in my life, I was so sexually frustrated that I had to hold it in and squirm about in my seat. THE Ewan McGregor appeared on the screen. He is just amazing and in this film, he's gay with Jim Carrey. He seems to be overly-sensitive and sweet, a Virgo (just typed that in as 'virgin' and it made me laugh). I need to see this film or I'll die!

I Love You Phillip Morris - Coming Out On Wednesday March Seventeenth.

As my older readers will have read (http://turnipface.blogspot.com/2009/06/homosexual-lust.html), I totally have a thing for gay things and people. This film, entitled I Love You Phillip Morris, is a true story about Steven Jay Russell who, to be fair, is a genius. His IQ is 163, and he is an American con artist and an impostor who has had multiple prison escapes. He met Phillip Morris in prison, and they fell in love. He even had Morris transported to his prison at one point! A book's been published about his life, and he is now serving a 144 year long prison sentence. He's 51 now.

Here's a condensed list of his most epic escapes:

♥ In 1996, while in Harris County Jail (Texas), Russell impersonated a judge and ordered his own bond decreased from $900,000 to $45,000, which he immediately posted. He was arrested 10 days later in Florida and was sent back to Texas.

♥ That same year he started taking art classes provided by the prison. Each time he attended a session, he snatched a green Magic Marker and hid it under his bed. Eventually, he had enough markers to dye his white prison uniform green. Since all the medical professionals in the prison wore green uniforms, Russell simply walked out of the prison disguised as a "doctor."

♥ At the prison library, Russell began reading up on the HIV virus and AIDS. He began taking laxatives to make it seem as if he had the symptoms of AIDS. Russell used a prison typewriter to forge a medical document stating that he suffered from the disease, and used it to convince doctors of his "condition" on February 24. He fooled the prison doctor into believing that a 'special needs parole' to a Houston hospital had been authorized on March 13. While outside and free again, Russell posed as a doctor and informed the prison that Russell had died from AIDS.

♥ When police were alerted of his latest doings, Russell feigned a heart attack and was transported to a hospital. The FBI placed him under guard, but Russell managed to impersonate an FBI agent on his cellular phone and convinced officers guarding him to leave. He walked out of the hospital and the hunt for Russel began all over again.

Oh, and don't worry people - not all of my future posts are going to be videos. I told Sam to be more open on his blog (http://thezealouszebra.blogspot.com/) and to post what he wrote about being depressed. I was going to write a post about my views on depression and self-harm today, but seeing this trailer just made me want to spread the word. That won't be a long blog post by the way, and it won't be a pondering kind of thing either. I know where my views stand and I've developed them over the last four years of my life. So nothing short of a near-death experience will change that! xD