WHY is 'Sarah Hutton' not present in any of the Aspects of Genre Blackboard page? She's not in the 'Groups' page or the 'Staff' area! Goddammit, everybody else's tutor is on there except mine! Having said that, I think Alex is the only Creative Writing tutor who uses Blackboard... -_-

So I broke the microwave. FUCK.

At least, I think I did. Or someone implied I did and made a convincing case for it. At any rate, it was worse than that. The entire electricity supply for the kitchen shortened out. Oops. But then...it works now. Magic, where would thou be without thee's glorifying prescense?

So yeah, might watch some more Ryuusei no Rockman now. And I WILL NOT BITCH about how Shugo Chara is being stuffed full of kiddie fillers. Or how a typical Naruto Shipuuden episode involves 20 minutes of flashbacks, staring contests and words we all knew were going to be uttered before the bad guy actually takes a single step. No, no I will definately not do any of the above.

Okay, so some people were having a clearly rational discussion about how the world will end one day and then it just so happened that the highlight of my day came about...
"Some wacko will try to create a mechainaloid. The project will go horribly wrong and kill him. It will use sunlight and fire a solar beam at the center of the earth, thus causing us to explode and die."

I LOL'd.

Still, there are some people chirping on about how the world will end a few days before Christmas during 2012. Aztec tradition people.

Who said trawling through the dark, smelly and generally uncouth underbelly of the internet doesn't pay off? I'm now the proud owner of Yorico's discography thanks to all that stomach-retching of endless links and broken...um...links. Also, google 'cacheing' tends to save my life during such searching. You should give it a try sometime soon.

Argh. Still deliberating over how to produce my new Harp Note signature. Not that I expect it to be amazing or anything. Just better than a real-life photo. Photos annoy the hell out of me. When I snap shots with my mobile that tend to be of things other would think strange. Like an interesting hue I found in the patchwork of the brick structure locked within the post office building. Also of note, the council or whatever (i.e. some nose-picking bigwig) has permanently closed the only two post offices in Brighouse. Do I look like I know where Elleland is huh?

You know, technically speaking, none of you should know the answer to that question. >_<

I'm...in a workstation room. And there's a guy in the row behind who's on his mobile, talkin' bloody loudly. Oh, now he's off. Aaaaaaaand now a conversation has started up. God, please let time go back to half an hour ago to when I could actually think without my eardrums imploding. I don't know. I'm just running out of patientance regarding my flatmates or whatever. IF THEY DARE WAKE ME UP TONIGHT...

And srly, Essex is NOT that bad dude. Get over it.  

Best FF.net review EVER:

FACT: FANFICTION,NETWAS COOL WHEN WE WERE ALL 12 LIVING IN THE SUBURBS LISTENING TO LINKIN PARK WATCHING DRAGONBALL Z DRINKING PEPSI WHILE PLAYING HALO CO-OP ON THE EASIEST SETTING DURING WHICH WE CONSUMED DORITOS AND LOOKED AT PAINTBALL GUNS ON EBAY IN INTERNET EXPLORER CONNECTED THROUGH AOL ON A 56K MODEM BEFORE HOPPING INTO OUR BALDING FATHERS' LATEST MIDLIFE-CRISIS-IMPULSE-SPONSORED JAPANESE-BUILT SUV TO HEAD TO THE MALL AND GET MORE SKATEBOARDING SHOES AND THIRD-RATE IRREGULAR LEVIS AND MOUNTAIN BIKE PARTS BEFORE HEADING HOME, VOTING DEMOCRAT AND MASTURB8TING TO THE LATEST SEARS CATALOG WHILE HUFFING PAINT IN YOUR GARAGE BEFORE TALKING TO PEDOPHILES ON AIM PRETENDING TO BE WHATEVER CAMWHORE THEY'RE RANTING ABOUT ON MYSPACE WITH A MATRIX QUOTE/ANIME CHARACTER NAME/TRIPLE SIX-ASTERISK-PARENTHESES-SURROUNDED SCREENNAME BEFORE HEADING TO YOUR SUPPOSED "GOOD SCHOOL" IN THE MORNING TO BUY MORE POT TO SMOKE DURING YOUR COUNTER-STRIKE LAN PARTY WITH JIMMY AND THE REST OF HIS FRIENDS TAKING RITALIN AND ADDERALL AND PROZAC EIGHT TIMES A DAY BEFORE TAKING A CASUAL PASS AT LOCAL, STATE OR NATIONAL GOVERNMENTIAL FIGURES, LEGISLATURE, OR STRUCTURE TO APPEAR EDGY AND INTELLIGENT IN FRONT OF YOUR BUDWEISER-SNEAKING, LIMP-WRISTED, NEAR-TO-COLUMBINE SOCIOPATHIC "DEEP" FRIENDS WHO PLAY THE VICTIM WHEN THEY START LOSING ARGUEMENTS SIX DAYS BEFORE THEIR BOTCHED SUICIDE ATTEMPT SIMPLY BECAUSE SCHOOL TRAMP NUMBER TWELVE WOULDN'T GO UNDER THE BLEACHERS WITH THEM TO LET THEM GET TO SECOND BASE BEFORE THEIR THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY.

Thank you ANONYMOUS5824. I'm about to cry. No, of course I'm not PMSing and of course it's not 4:20 am. At least I hope I'm not. 

THIS: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/10/14/npullman114.xml has made me SO ANGRY!

I mean, sometimes I can understand why censorship exists when films are creating a visual adaption of a novel but to go this far...it makes my blood boil. Why shouldn't a cricticism of a corupt church exist? Pullman's not actively saying that all of religion is screwed up, he's just giving an interpretation of how it can be used to bind people and justify inhumane acts. And let's face it, in the past that's precisely what it has done (I'm going to refer to the mass burning of women in the  'witch-hunts' as well as the Prostant vs Catholic bloodshed in England over the years...and lets not forget Northern Ireland...I don't know much about American history  but I find it impossible to believe that there has never been a historical case similar to those which I speak of). However I was disgusted to see  some young girl bawling  her eyes out in public 'cos she was convinced her father was going to burn in hell. It's just so increditably sick.

Oh, I see...it's okay to produce films that are anti-racism, anti-sexism etc but as soon as we get to another important issue like religion...WHAM...the censorship stamp comes crashing down.

Harry Potter I could cope with...they respected JK enough to get a British lead and keep the name. (What made them think 'Philosopher's stone' was too 'insensitive' to the American public, I'll never know.) But this is my big gripe with film versions...if you're going to do it right, don't lose track of the plot or it's message. By doing that, you're automatically discrediting the author. Indeed there is no greater critism of a writer's right to independant thought and judgement by changing the key details of their work.

I swear, if I ever write a book and any kind of attempt is made to visualise it in some way I don't agree with...I'll be ramming hot knives down their throat. (Hey, I can dream, right?)

(SCREAMS)

OM MY GOLD, THE INTERNET CONNECTION IN MY ROOM IS WORKING!!!! THEY'VE FIXED IT!!! YEEEEES!!!

For those of you that don't know, I'm at university in Abby-wrist-worth (NB: Not correct spelling. I can't spell to saved my alcohol-free life so I shall resort to making fun of the rather lengthy name of this charming yet isolated Welsh town with my own personalised version. Sorry Aber!) And well...I'm in the suckiest accommodation in the place.  Most of the accommodation is new and nice, carpets, large kitchen etc.  But guess what? i was placed in Penbryn. P_E_N_B_R_Y_N. Where you share a tiny kitchen with no seating arrangements with twenty people,  the toilet seat is loose and OMFG, there is no carpet. Yours truely was sensible enough to bring her tiger cub emblazoned  rug and her favourite pokemon bean bag.  Hush Rhinnan. Hush. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention it's taken them a WEEK to fix the internet connection?

It's a friendly plae though and very easy to get hyper. I've just spent the last fifteen minutes walking the fuckin' big hill from town with Ben (who I think is in the room next to me maybe...O_O)  while discussing chicken genocide. Can't believe I wasted five pounds on  that nightclub on the pier though.  I think I have both epliepsy and imploded ear drums.

Oh, and to those of you who have nagged and screamed at me to reinstall my AIM and Messenger clients...I will soon, promise.  I DID actually miss you guys. I'm just backwards, horrible and lazy, that's all. And also, I didn't fail my A levels as SOMEONE kept telling me I would. (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE 'DANNY'!)

Roll on Thursday for Anime Club film time! Boo Monday with American Literature Lecture! But yay, yay for Creative Writing module!

GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS TOMORROW?!? ...A level results come out and the universities crack their knuckles and knock students sideways with their final decisions.

Well fuck me.

It's lucky I'm listening to Vanessa Carlton's ballad-dy things so I'm in a reasonably calm mood...and now I've just heard her nasaclly tones croon 'I hope I don't blow it' into my ear drum. GOD, BUDDA OR GREAT AND THOUGHTLESS SPACE OVER YONDER, WHY MUST YOU CAUSE MY PARNIOA TO GROW?!?

'Lalalala, Love is danccciiing on myyyyy fiiinggeeer...'

See, this is why I write.

See, I would use LJ cut but for some reaon it keeps underlining the text and refusing to leave it in its standard format. Thus, I would rather have a long post of rubbish that you can actually read rather that a stupidly  blackened mass of letters.

The REAL reason why Maya's hair is pink is...

NB:Why is Maya’s hair pink when every other human character seems to have hair that behaves realistically in terms of colour? I’m assuming Don, Jordan and Eva had their’s dyed due to the flashbacks of the younger Don and Eva whose hair seemed to stay a perfectlly natural black.

I remember how graceful she was, stretched out on the porch with a dull, listless glimmer in her eyes. Her socks were rolling out against the floorboards, strike, strike, strike. And she refused to look at me.

“When can I come home Dad?”

Oh Eva…

“You are home.”

She shook her head venomously at this, a wry smile creeping in at the corners of her mouth as though she were party to a private joke I could not grasp.

“No, I’m not. I have to go home and train…”

My hands loved to play with the buttons upon my front, trailing vertically in a form of attempted molestation.

“Train for what? There nothing to train for…”

She ‘hmphed’ and bit back a chuckle. I watched her swallow.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re Don Wei, you know I’m the best you’ve got.”

I could see the pride outlined in her skeleton, little inner ridges within fleshy sockets. A tinge of grey within her ribs, spitting out against her health.

Oh Eva….

She was fire. Fire, raging and burning, nothing like her mother before her. She was more like me than either of us cared to admit.

“It wasn’t pink enough anyway.”

I caught her holding clumps of the black fur that lined her scalp, fishing in a plastic bag with a hospitalised stamp of approval. She swirled it round with cobalt fingers, only hesitating when a patch of overriding scarlet caught her interest.

“What do you think Dad?”

I shook my head, refusing to remind her of the time she had snuck into the bedroom cabinet when she was four and watched her mother clamp down the swirls of fake hair to her head. I refused to remind her that she had once seen the circular pattern of the sun clutch to the surface of Maya’s scalp with no barrier to prevent the glare of bare skin. I refused to elaborate on the deterioration that had eaten up that brave woman and her wig.

She tutted and threw the bag away from her moodily.

“Jeez, Dad, you’re hopeless!”

I glanced at her achingly bald head and was forced to agree.

Oh Eva…

Hope. It had always been the main  driving force behind Eva when she raced. Hope to bring back a dying woman. The thing about hope is that it always works better when you’re alive to breathe meaning into it.

“I’m not dying!”

She screamed, caught in her teenage rage again, hands lashing out and striking at the authoritive figure, white coat draped about his shoulders.

“I can’t die! Not when I’ve only just got my life back!”

And so she danced the same dance of denial that I had perfected over the years. She raved, expressed her hate in her verbal streams of abuse and ignored the pain that crumbled away at her very cells.

“I won’t die. I won’t!”

Oh Eva…

Maybe I knew. Maybe that was why I locked her up in a school that bore the same sterilised scent as a hospital. Perhaps I initially knew about the type of environment she would be surrounded by one day. My Eva was not her mother. No, she could not burn up and away in a planned chance of fate.

The sunlight seemed to shine on her face more often and sometimes I fancied I saw a golden hand grip her chin in a sadder motion. I saw spells of aching blue circulate her in a form of mutated pain relief, courtesy of an old ally.

But no incanting, no godly power could pound sense back into the break-up of my daughter’s body.

“Dad…”

Her throat cracked with the strain and I could feel the crushing pressure of my parental role fall in and away.  I could only watch. Watch…something only I could do.

“Was I ever as pretty as Mommy?”

I looked at her, a template of a human being surrounded by sheets and beeps of ominous doubt. I pictured my wife, vibrant in her championship glory, ready to die before she withered into the same paralysed state our baby was in. Eva upheld her legacy.

I did the only other thing I could do. I lied.

Oh Eva…

“Oh”, she said, “oh…”

She slept, ignorant of the hollow space beside her. I had nothing. No hope, no joy, no guilt, no worth, no relief. I had known what was coming. And I did not even have the courage to hold her hand. It would have been better if she had hated me.

But she had no stinging rebuke to give me. No fallen paradise. No words of honeyed love. Even though she hadn’t known. Perhaps it was only right that she’d had a half-life, only to have experienced a searing rush of coloured adrenalin when she helped save the universe. It made a bitter sense that way.

And so she left me in a completely different way to that of her mother who’d abandoned us prematurely in a blaze of fire. She did not have hundreds of followers or a devoted fan base, but she did have the disbelief and ashen expressions of a god-like entity and an alien prince. And somehow that was far more real than a bunch of flowers brought at the last minute.

I just stood up a little straighter than usual and did what I always did. I watched and I lied. And then I gathered up that little plastic container of scarlet and ebony hairs and thrust them into that same place my wife had kept that wig of fantastically pink hair.

Oh Maya…

Did you foresee this coming? There were some things that no supernatural occurrence could have prevented. If we could have read the future, perhaps we all would all do a little better to make sure it is given a happiness of it’s own. Perhaps we would all act a little more like ‘Molly’.

But now there’s nothing left for me to race for. I wanted no other ‘prize’.

Oh my darlings…

And so now I sit with this stony hunk of flesh caught between my thin arms that is not either ‘Eva’ or ‘Molly’. And I do not cry. For what would be the purpose? I already realised what I was going to lose years ago. Why else would I send it away?

And this solid coldness did not scream or cry like it should’ve done. No. It merely slept. And I no purpose but to lose my heart again.

Oh Eva…

I did not tell you what was happening to your mother. Or what would have still happened if she had twisted herself back into life as you desired. Or how quickly she would have slipped out of it no sooner than you had wished her in it. And in retrospect, perhaps that is the cruellest thing I could have ever done to you. And I did it.

Eva…

And you didn’t hate me.

Oh…

And because of that…I think I’ll live a little longer.

Oh my Eva…  

Steph went to Wales and saw a puffin.

...

Steph, I hate you.

Okay, my exam period is now over and I have to wait till the sixteenth of August for the results that pretty much dictate my immediate future. My last exam was over three hours long and was on the fifth of June. So here are three annoying things that have happened since then:

1. June the ninth - Katie ran up with "OMG, can you believe it's been ten days since we finished our A-levels?!? Now we can have a tonne of fun!!!" To which I promptly grounded her ear out with the unpleasant sniping that arises from the fact that now all of us chose to do conventional subjects like German, Chemistry and Photography or whatever which are always held earlier than subjects like Theatre Studies and Philosophy. (Seriously, why does everyone want to do photography? Why? Doesn't strike me as a very interesting subject to do in all honesty, at least Art has a broad spectrum in that there's a lot of diversity within the subject area!) And then, Katie was sorry...and quite frankly, amazed. Bah.
2. July the 2nd - It was Leavers Day, which meant trudging into Bhasvic and returning all the books we had borrowed just to try and receive that worthless little deposit we had placed within their safekeeping at the beginning of our two-year education period. Bah, I say again. Of course, a number of things went wrong. Here is my fragmented diary:

•        Walk into Bhasvic. Am five minutes later than the designated time of 10:00am that was written on our leavers' sheet.

•        Go to Tutor Group's usual room as the sheet instructed. Find a whole class of strangers in there and a note on the door. Note in question  has incorrect  scrawl across it which goes a little like this:  'Dear sucker, SJC's  tutor group has been relocated  to room 24, just for your personal inconvience. We don't care if you're never heard of, or been to room 24 in your entire life. We expect you to find your way there, five minutes before the principal's main speech in the hall begins. Good luck, Legend of Zeldaers!'

• Internally panic. Race upstairs to find the random signs that pinpoint the location of certain classrooms. Go to every single department and find directions like '>Room 64 - 72' and '<Room 20c -20d'. Am contemplating bashing head against wall.

• Remember that Sandra (Form Tutor) is a Chemistry teacher. Go to the science department, a place I have never been to before. Get lost.

• Discover that the tiniest classroom in the basement is room 24. So tiny in fact, that it looks like it belongs in one of the Northern Lane's upstairs bar. Find out that the door is locked and nobody is inside. Stand still and feel like an idiot.

• Find Sandra in teacher's staffroom. Am told off for being late. Feel sensible enough to keep mouth in check. Receive checklist for books.

• Go to hear Principal's speech. He runs late. Quotes poetry about leaves and then proceeds to tell entire student body that he doesn't understand what it means, just thinks it very 'wise' and that it will help us through our lives. Hear several titters throughout the room. Has strong temptation to join in.

• Wander around the entire grounds of Bhasvic trying to find different members of staff to tick off checklist.                                                   
  
• Theatre Studies teachers are busy reading novels and sitting in comfortable chairs. Tick lists but expect to come in specially during holidays to return sheets we didn't even know they wanted back.                                                                                                                      
  
• English staff tell you off if you go to the wrong teacher. Or at least the one I get does. None of the others care. Am forced to rejoin que to get Amanda who then wants to know my life story. Am hopelessly wishing she was Karen instead.                                    
  
• Wander round and see Dave. Duck and attempt to hide recalling terrible way in which I behaved last term. Phil is missing. Find Phil an hour later. He is with Dave. Both are waaaay too friendly and nice to me. Feel guilty but manage to return Plato's Republic. Grr.
  

• Consult sheet. Go to hall to que for 'double-checking' and then collecting money from reception. Que stretches out from the hall, winds it's way through the main corridor and out half-way across the car-park. Feel dead inside.

• One hour and five minutes later, have arrived at 'double-checking' desk. Consists of senior tutors who just tick list without even looking at it. Am wondering what the point of that formality is. The guy I get wants to know which university I wish to attend, wasting precious seconds. Want to smash his head in.

• Que up for money. Do not receive money due to stupid miscalculation that should have been spotted during the 'double-checking' exercise, IF ONLY THOSE TUTORS HAD ACTUALLY USED THEIR EYES DURING THE PROCESS!!!!! Am now £40 in debt for reasons I don't entirely understand. Is dreading bill though post.

• Free wine is offered. Is not worth it. Run away.

         3. July the sixth - Salesperson rings up asking for 'Mr and Mrs Arak'. hear button being pressed before pre-recording of 'street   noises'  is being buzzed down the phone. Am incredulous. Inform Mr Unlucky that Mrs Arak is dead and Mr Arak is in Europe somewhere which is true, strictly speaking). Hang up. Feel energized as well as pissed off.



And that accounts for way more than three pet peeves. >:~

Happy National Pink Day America!!! Time to get out that pink frosting, buy outrageously priced Disney 'Princess' boots, throw in da funk and twirl round looking like an overindulged pig on steroids...ah, screw it. It's just another excuse to try and liven up the calender.

Hmm, it seems to me that I write an awful lot of things which never make their on FF.net so I may as well post 'em all up here at some point. The first one I shall do, will be appearing there because...it's Pink Day themed. (Don't laugh at the freakin' fandom, I know it's a godamn awful show with a poor script but it makes me laugh and one episode had a feminist slant to it that had me heaving out war-calls sooo...>_<)


GAH. STUPID AMERICAN SPELL-CHECK TELLING ME I SHOULD USE Z INSTEAD OF S ALL THE TIME!!!! IS THAT NORMAL????

Ha, ha, happy 'Poink' Day everybody!

Okay, okay, I need to calm down...okay, okay, I know pretty song, weird video, Red Riding Hood imagery...(pant, pant. pant)


Is it not one of the most gorgeous and heartfelt songs you've ever heard? And it's one of those songs I can empatheise with the outsider setting and I'm only praying I'm not breaking another one of those higgledy-piggldey laws or whatever 'cos I am freakin' insomniamatic and panicking and fuck it, I AM FREAKING OUT MAN!!!!!!

I know I haven't updated in a hundred years of ancient folklore or whatever but I have had such a massively improved social life like you would not believe! I went to that 'Prog Power' concert in Chelternam with three friends where we stayed the weekend in like this...castle! (It was a three-rated star castle but still...it had beautiful grounds and rabbits! And no parents!) Katie earned a new stalker, I got two pairs of scissors confiscated and had a mini tantrum when I almost lost my ticket for retrieving them and I lost my lovely sketch I did of a bird on the castle lawns. :_: Aaaand there was this guy from Texas who imitated American accents on the tube and made us laugh. Oh, oh, and I managed to fall asleep through this heavy metal concert! I was very proud of myself and manage to amaze everyone nearby. I must be a real heavy sleeper...ALL MY SISTERS' FAULT!!!!!

And I went up to Thorpe Park with Ally and Hannah where we played the music up full volume and I went on my first loop-the-loop roller coaster. I have never had so much fun by being terrified out of all coherent thought before.  Though the prize for most amusing ride goes to that backwards coaster in the dark. they had lego figures place by the tracks randomly and they are the most un-scary things I have ever laid eyes upon. Then we went back to Hannnah's house and watched Top Gear. Because it's about cars, funny men and it rocks.

I also witnessed England's entry in the Eurovision song contest. WHY GOD WHY!!!!!! But thank heavens for Terry Wogan. His acid comments saved me from ripping out my heart and letting my love for our homeland die on the sofa.

FREAKIN' PHILOSOPHY A LEVEL TOMORROW AND DO I KNOW MY STUFF? NOOOOOOOOOOO....

I need a 'Lucky Girl' avatar like srly. As in swirly, cat-mask, butt-kicking, girly action. Like Buffy, only not. But all I have lousy Youtube screen-shots and those suck. The quality is all blurry and  I'd rather have  an avatar where the lines to a character's shape are clearly defied, thank you very much.

And the weirdo who goes by the name of 'Well' has struck again. I'll probably find out it's Olivia or someone mucking around but still, if you're playing a practical joke and one of your friends asks you to identify yourself, you don't then reply ominously by saying 'i will grant your every wish.' Urgh. Why do so many people I know fail to capitalise the beginning of their sentences properly? It gives me an eyesore. There, I've said it. And when I need eye-drops at the ripe old age of twenty, I'll know who to blame.

Also: have finished Oleanna essay. And took the day off Tuesday because I had a fever. Therefore drama group will be mad with me...and Scott...the tall, blond guy at least two people I know have a crush on. Though why that is so, only a long-tailed possum in the mountains of Virgina knows. This is because Scott is like a male version of Steph, only about ten times worse. Not that I don't love Steph, I do as she is my one true lo-err, I mean ALL HAIL THE POWA OF NON-YU-GI-OH FRIENDSHIP!!!!! But at least she doesn't make crass comments or try to kill the other guys with the swords and poles from the prop department. (Hey, is it just me or do all the guys like to fight each other with those things? Seriously, I remember the rehearsal where they spent the whole time painting the ends of their 'spears' lovingly and then duking it out. They're like mother hens with anything sharp and pointy) And now I suddenly realise why I miss doing Drama at a girls only school. We never tried to break each other's bones. WE just broke each other's hearts all the time instead. O_O Wait a minute, isn't that more painful?

At least the pizza hut nights were fun...anyhow must prepare workshop for either tomorrow or next week...with Scott. I am unsure of the precise date...however I have a cunning plan that Doctor Evil and Minny-me would certainly be proud of. Moo ha ha. It involves doing all the work and typing out a basic workshop plan with well-researched exercises...without Scott.

(Points)




Sorry couldn't resist.

(is laughing at the fact that Steph and Beth will not have a clue what's going on)

Oh. I hate High School Musical. And if you don't know what that is, you are either brutally lucky or are living in a swamp the size of Brazil. I want to take little Miss Ann Hudgens and wring her by her pretty neck, until she promises to never sing again. You learn hate like that when 'Baby Come Back To Me' is whining out of your younger sister's laptop all day long. Okay, I get Disney is trying to influence little girls into their daydreams of being singers and dancers, but do they have to make their main posse of Lindsay Lohan and Vanessa Hudgens look like boy-obsessed zombies with too many legs flopping all over the place? Oooooh, rehectorical question!

 Not that I mind Ashley Tisdale though. I mean, I HATE her album (yes, dear reader, that is also a delightful addition to my sister's Windows Media Player library) but I am irrepressibly  fond of her acting style. I mean, she's over-dramatic but she's got  the <3. And <3 is something Hudgens has dropped out of her skimpy cheerleader costume. Prehaps she should go get a tattoo of Minnie Mouse while she's at it?

So yeah, it's St Val's Day, which means J is sitting on the sofa transfixed at the 'pop-up' edition of High School Musical while I...well, while I was sensible and stayed in bed. Because that's what sensible people do on days like today. Stay in bed. With no cards. Ahem. Yes.

Although...I notice my Dad has received nothing from a certain lady we will call Norma. I think he's standing her up to be brutally honest. And what else? Ah, yes, the woman-from-hell woke me up with her need to visit us. Woman-from-hell has yet to realise that I do not like her, have no wish of ever liking her again and is still a bit freaked out when she gave me a Bible for my 18th birthday. Apparently it is to help me through life. Which is, in fact dear reader, code for 'TALK TO ME YOU  LITTLE $^o(o**!'. I merely wish she would get a clue and bother my other younger siblings instead, who may I add, have yet to recieve a Bible from her, pocked-sized version or otherwise. Rather telling don'cha think? I do.

Anyway, she'll be round tomorrow...however I am going round to Katie's tomorrow which means I have planned the perfect escape. Katie seems to be taking this 'escape' rather seriously. As you may or may not recall from my last Live Journal entry, I was late getting round to her house as in HOURS late. I was not there until three or four in the afternoon. Therefore at seven o'clock tonight, I found myself holding the phone receiver while Katie, with a meancing edge to her voice, told me to get to bed early. She says she'll ring me up at nine o'clock tomorrow to 'check up on me'. Whether she will actually carry out her threat remains to be seen.

So yeah, have fun, tear out your <3 and eat in with plenty of salt and pepper and don't buy  those cheap chocolates from teh Co-op. That goes for you too Steph, get Steve to buy you one of those dark chocolate flake things yeah? And Beth? Well, you're pretty enough to get any guy you want so good luck to you!

Okay, I've finally figured it out. I'm a coward. Notice how there's a massive correlation between the amount of time I spend on MSMF and how often I update this thing which I love oh-so-dearly? Yeeeeeah, I thought so.

I guess, and here's the thing, I care too much. I forget to do stuff (like phone up the dentist, which I should have done five or six weeks back!!!) and I keep putting it off until it gets to the stage where I'm too frightened to go back on in case everybody hates me. It's kinda like pulling a 'Goddess of Anime'...only worse. And of course, deep down you know that nobody hates you, but they're still people. And people are scary. I mean, even in real life I find it hard to summon the courage to even ask for help from a shop assistent. It is really, really pathetic but I'm sorry, I've always had that problem and it's something my mother always tried to thump out of me. And yet...when it comes to writing, something, anything down, I can be really brave. I create a 'fuck it all' attitude and scorn at all the indignant little flamers and the wussies who denounce their own belief in free speech through their own outrage. That's the easy part.

Ha, I even had phone phobia for like seven years of my life, I was too terrified to give people a call. Guess I'm a social recluse. I mean I have friends right, good one, in fact I'm going for a sleepover at Katyie's tonight. I was meant to be there an hour ago, not typing up stupid crap but she'll forgive me...since I'm her ff.net buddy in crime. Ha!

So yeah, I've decided. I'm handing in my MSMF Admin notice because, quite frankly, I'm not doing my job. At all. Oh and I don't have as much time as I did  a year back. That last load of Thethere Studfies coursework almost killed me.  TEN FREAKIN' ESSAYS IN UNDER TWO WEEKS,  PEOPLE!!! EACH ONE AT LEAST TWO SIDES OF A4!!!!!  And it's gonna get worse, I just know it.

Having said that, I'm vaguely still interested in SRMTHFG. Someone told Mandarin and teat wicthy-woman-thing were a canon couple. My large captialised 'WHAT!' blew her off screen. What the heck is going on in that season anyway?

This is a shoutout to all the people who died today. Or rather, a whisper. I've been ill since Tuesday, but despite this, even I was aware that something was terribly wrong with the weather today. The netball goalpost was sprawled over the grass even though it has a concrete base and the rain was lashing at the windows like there was no tomorrow. And now I've seen the news, seen the carnage, heard about the two year old who got crushed under a six-foot wall and the guy who got killed by a falling tree...by heart goes out to you, your families and all those other people who got their candle of life snuffed out by the wind.

Amen.

Why am I still at my house when I have a train to catch at ten? It'll take a fair amount of time to get the train as well...lucky all those buses that pass my house go to the station in the first place!

So, yeah, off to Halifax...AND BEYOND!!!!!!!!! WHICH MEANS SHEEP!!!!!! AND LOTS OF THEM!!!!!!!

Why am I coming back on Sunday, the day before my uncompleted presentation on genocide and neo-darwinism is due? Why?