A LONG overdue bit of blogging.

HELLO DARLINGS :D
Miss me?
Didn't think so.
So, in my life in the last couple of weeks:
-Got a bed
-Got a wardrobe (It really HAS been a while!!)
-Filled wardrobe.
-GOT CHRISTMASSY

Oh yes.  December.  Favourite month of the whole damn year because everything starts looking so damn beautiful.
Including, now, my room.
Got a little over excited...
It does look a wee bit like a grotto (cluttered grotto, sure, but a grotto).
I've got a wee tree with COLOUR-CHANGING LIGHTS on it :D
No decorations though.  Cannot seem to find them, and will assume they got packed away carefully with all the other ones.
Anywho.
Pretty tree, with colour-changing lights.
In an attempt to buy this colour changing lights, the B&Q card machine denied my card twice.
Was NOT amused.
Was fairly nice to the poor bloke behind the till though, because he looked tired and I'm generally a nice person...  Who should probably be doing her Great Gatsby reading journal.
But ya know what?
It's a shit book.
A really really shit book that contains nothing but detestable characters continually screwing each other over and also just screwing each other. 
Which is why I'm taking a stand.
Okay.
I'm not taking a stand.
I am just severely bored and not really all that bothered by Gatsby and his greatness.
Because he's just not that great. 
If he was great, he'd have gotten the fuck over Daisy, found some pretty bird who wasn't incurably dishonest, a total show off, and unfaithful.
He'd have found a nice bird.
Dammit, Luke, and your making me use the word "bird".  For it is the word.
God I hate myself sometimes.
I'm sure I was blogging about something more interesting a minute ago...
OMG CHRISTMAS :D
Excitement.
I also draped fairy lights over my curtains.
I am still having an internal debate as to whether or not that's a fire safety hazard...
I may check my smoke alarm batteries once I return home.
But for now, am stuck in a free period for a further...  half hour.
Sigh...
I may have to go read the blog of Sullaay.  She implies that I should.  I imply that YOU should.  It is splendiferous and fun.
-Takes a moment to read the blog-
I rather enjoy her little bio.
Amused.
Apparently, she's friends with Nasa.
There was a kid at my school called Nasa.
Never really got on with him.
Not exactly a starry personality.
-Insert pity laughs here-
Lord, that only killed five minutes.
Bored bored bored bored bored.
Bored bored.
Bored.
I might have to make a twitter account.
Not because I'm bored, but for my EPQ, where I may or may not make a mini series on Youtube and attempt to become an internet sensation at LEAST in Japan.
May not explain HOW they keep coming back from death til the end though.
It involves a pirate and a viking and a sea monster.
Yep.
And all that came from one bus ride when we FINALLY managed to beat those fucking private school kids to the front seats in the bus. 
FUCK YEAH.
That was a good morning.
There should have been some form of alcoholic celebration, as befits vikings, though we tend to go for the pillaging rather than the rape.
Hmmm.
There could be an entertaining episode of this where we explain the lack of raping and pillaging.
Possibly by taking the piss out of chavs...
OOOOOOH, plans.  Moodling Sarah. Back later xxxxx

Here purely because I cannot for the life of me figure out netstorage. Ignore.

1989 Test

1.    Who was the General Secretary of the USSR in 1981?      

    Name the free Trade Union in Poland      Solidarity

In the early 1980’s who was in charge in

    East Germany          Willi Stoph

    Hungary         János Kádár

    Poland          Henryk Jablonski

    Czechoslovakia      Husak

    Romania         Nicolae Ceauşescu

2. Who became leader of the USSR in March 1985?    Gorbachev

Name the three policies he introduced and give the English meaning of each:

(i)Peresrtoika    means     political reform
   
(ii) Glasnost        means openness       

(iii)    DEmocracy        means open vote multi party leadership       

3. Give a word which describes the major changes the new leader ordered in foreign policy
     Closeness

    Give three examples of these in different countries

    (i)     West Germany

    (ii)    USA

    (iii)    Britain

4. What was so significant for Eastern Europe about the Soviet leaders speech to the UN in New York in December 1988?

Meant that they could forge their own paths away from communism with removal of Soviet troops.

The leaders of which two countries responded very positively to the changes in the USSR?

    Poland and Hungary

The leaders of which three main countries failed to respond at all to the changes in the USSR?

    Czechoslovakia, Romania and Bulgaria


5. What could ordinary people of E Europe see happening by the spring of 1989?

   
Soviet troops began to go home
    What happened in the USSR in March 1989?   


    What important political decision was taken in Hungry in early 1989?

Decided to take down the iron curtain.

    What was legalised in Poland in the spring of 1989?

Solidarity

6. What ceremony took place in Budapest in June 1989?

Reburial of Imre Nagy

    What was the result of elections in Poland in June 1989?

1/3 communist, 1/3 other coalition parties.

    How did the old style Communist government in Poland come to an end?

Communists lost elections, asked Solidarity man to make a government, he did so.

7. In the summer of 1989, what did E German tourists discover they could do?
Get through Berlin Wall fairly freely.

What did the E German government do about this situation by the end of summer 1989?
Let them knock the wall all the way down.

Why did E German tourists camp in the grounds of the West German embassies in Budapest  (Hungry) and later in Prague (Czechoslovakia)?

Objected to GDR.
When the E German government gave permission for these people to go to W Germany, why did it insist that they must travel by train VIA E Germany?



Name two German cities where there were peaceful demonstrations in September and October 1989:

Leipzig

8. On October 9 1989 the E German authorities came within 20 minutes of doing what to the demonstrators in Leipzig?



    Who became the new leader of E Germany in late October 1989?

Hans  Modrow
What in early November 1989 did the new E German government do about E German citizens travelling abroad?



    What did the E German people do about this?



Explain the muddle that led to the opening of the Berlin Wall in the late evening of November 9 1989?

Radio show with leader who said they could tear it down.

How did the old-style Communist government of East Germany come to an end?
Because communism was always doomed to fail.

9. What was the Velvet revolution in Czechoslovakia?

The Velvet Revolution or Gentle Revolution (November 17 – December 29, 1989) was a non-violent revolution in Czechoslovakia that saw the overthrow of the communist government.
    Name two leaders who emerged:

Havel and Dubcek

    How did the old-style Communist government of Czechoslovakia come to an end?

The Communist Party of Czechoslovakia announced on November 28 that it would relinquish power and dismantle the single-party state.

10. In October 1989 the Soviet leader and the US president met in the Mediterranean and declared:



    This was dubbed by the world’s press:



11.  What happened in Romania?

A week-long series of fights and riots which got increasingly violent     What was the army called on to do?

Spray tear gas and hoses.

    What did the army do after a few hours?

Began to shoot at them

    How did the old-style Communist government of Romania come to an end?

Isn't so much REGRETTING quitting Drama...

It's more of a misery at the total lack of activities currently going on within my life.
I have no homework, as all of my reading journals are up to date, essays are all done and I reeally will just think of an essay title more than likely on the spur of the moment (honest to God, I like my tragic scream idea, and by jove, I am going to put my foot down).
Feet are icky, by the by.
Really icky and awful.
I don't like it that things grow between toes.
And there is far too much hair on those things.
So it really REALLY isn't that I regret quitting. 
It was just too much, and Cathy isn't Philly.
Which is fairly obvious from the fact that Cathy is a lady person and has hair, where Philly is a blokey person and doesn't.
All the same.
Think I really needed Drama to have Philly.  Or at least Roo.
Sadly, it has neither, and there was too much pressure going on and it all went to shit.
Miss the acting-y bit though.  Pretending I was an old woman, doddering around, having an ice cream and a chat about the war.
I'm very tempted to start a blog about "The Adventures Of Betty".
VERY tempted.
She could chat with Vera about the war, and all the gorgeous young soldiers.
Oh dear.
I should stop doing this to myself...
Nope.  Too dire for words.  Can't do it.
No matter how awesome those two old biddies were, there will be no blog about the good old days.
Sad, but fair I think.

So today, I have to find a new bed.
And a new wardrobe.
And figure out what in the hell to do about my extensive book collection.
Extensive being at LEAST a hundred, probably more.
You have NO idea how difficult it was to empty my room of books.
Very hard.
I had them sort of stored away.
A bit like a squirrell stores for the winter.
But with books.
So we're going to Ikea, AKA the shop with no name (it'll feel good to be out from the rain).
Not entirely keen on all their beds, though.
May have to look in Argos, Tesco, etc.
I am tempted, however, to give up looking for a little bit, maybe go forth and get a coffee.  But then I will have literally nothing to do.  No books, no magazines.  If I wanted to get a magazine, I could walk all the way up Hill Lane, but that would require spending my coffee money on literature.  If you can call Look magazine literature (I do just buy it for the pictures, no excuses made here!).
I may have broken the internet.
No shocker there.

Have emailed my mother a picture of a bed.
I like said bed.
Expensive in comparison to a Mars Bar, inexpensive in comparison to gold buillion.
This one!
Quite fond of it.
Better quality looking than Ikea, also.  So probably worth the little bit of extra money.
Or at least I hope so.

Maybe get a Netbook.
Easier.
Could blog whilst drinking coffee.  Bloody awesome idea, to be frank.

Hour to go.  Have I really only killed half an hour???

I wonder how big ten inches is.
No, that is not a sexual issue.
Netbooks tend to have this kind of size of screen.
It would be good to have a little diddy one, to carry to college and type up notes and essays in my free period (Yes, singular free period).
I could use it in the cafe and have hot chocolate at the same time!
How splendiferous.
And the best bit of that would be not having to have a desk in my room, therefore making space for my wardrobe, in all it's extent.
Did not know I had so much clothing until Mum laid it all out on her bed.
Whoopsy daisy.
Honestly, not THAT bad.
I've seen people have worse!!
Mariah Carey...
Okay, it's a wee diddy bit OTT.
But whatever!!  I like clothes.
Mother has dubbed it "living beyond my means".
Oh hmph.
I just need a bigger wardrobe!!
And let's be honest here, we're moving in a couple years anywho.  I'll do a huge clear out then.
Of stuff that doesn't fit over the considerable tits and ass anymore.
This one would work.
I realise that I was just talking about wardrobes and have now given you a link to a Netbook.
It's okay.
The Netbook was what I was talking about before I started waffling about clothes and Mariah Scary.
She's not that good, tbh.
I prefer Bonnie Tyler.
MUCH prefer.
Bonnie Tyler holds out for heroes.
Mariah Scarey screeches about love and other such crap.
Pfft.
Love.
What bollocks.
(Harry dear, if you have suddenly decided to read my blog, uhm, yeah.  Let's talk about this later.  Don't leave..?)
50 minutes to go.
Nyurgh.
Mother hasn't emailed back.
I'm hoping for an Ikea dinner tonight, though my stomach feels like it has a continuous small scale cramp.
Better than the continuous LARGE scale cramp of the other day, during which my dinner came back up.
Sarah, the whore, thinks she has given me her virus.
HMPH.
It is NOT her virus...

Wonder how much those immune boosting vitamins (pronounced "it" not "ite", contrary to the beliefs of my father) would cost me?
Though it must be weighed against potential risks.
I could kick my viruses in the arse, and be able to prevent myself from getting worse colds in the near future (we all know it'll happen.).
Hmmmmm...
Saying that, how much money DO I have??
(McMurtry, again, if you happen to be reading this, you owe me £5.85.  Normally, I wouldn't insist, but ya know.  I'm getting a wee bit on the broke side here.)
£17.03.
Dear lord I need a jobby.
Christmas temp work unappealing, however.
Time to be spent with boyfriend, best mate, and assorted others is MUCH more my kinda thing.
Sigh...
Browsing the Boots site now.
May have to invest in dry shampoo (Note:  Ponytail.)
And also colour protect shampoo.
Did not appreciate Sarah's "Your roots are coming through and your colour is fading" this morning.
Hmph.
I bloody know.
Hyper-over-the-top-unendingly-critical, MUCH?

The internet is slow, I've got 35 minutes to kill, and my mother doesn't answer my emails.
Sigh...
And my roots are showing.
It SUCKS that she pointed that out.
All self-concious and tempted by hats now.

Librarian getting pissy about how noisy people are.
Hmmm.
He is particularly noisy.
And now sitting next to me.
Fuck sake.

Okay.
30 minutes to kill.
Noisy bloke has sharpies.
Ugh.
He is sharpie-ing calculators.  Pointless much?
MILLEYYYYYY.  Just showed up.
May ask if she fancies cafe coffee.
Frankly, shall more than happily pay for her.
Urgh, fuck this, cafe time xxxx

On "The Great Gatsby"

Godddddddd.
So MAYBE I left the reading of TGG a little bit late.
Seeing as how it had to be read by Monday, and here I am on the Saturday before having just finished.
Well.
What can I say about TGG?
I'm fairly sure we're supposed to be comparing it with Hamlet as far as tragedies are concerned.
Hmmm.
The trad. tragedies have a system where the hero dies.
Now, lots of people did die.
Myrtle.
Gatsby.
Mr Wilson.
I don't, however, consider any of these people to be heroes.
Starting with Myrtle Wilson and her hubby.
He was a slob.
She was cheating.
Hmmmmmmmmm...
Perhaps not so much the heroes.  Plus, they didn't really have these great big moments of kind of them peaking (please, refrain from innuendos), with them being at the top of their game and wonderful.
Myrtle was average looking, bawdy and generally dull.
Her hubby was slobby, disgusting, and decided to take a gun to the man he thought killed his wife.
Trouble is, while this could be seen as this marvelous bit of heroic, he then killed himself afterwards.
Uh, no.
That is not tragic.
That's just stupid.
AND he locked his wife up in the house so that she couldn't get out.
Yeah, she'd been cheating.
But let's face it.
HE married her.

Now, for Gatsby.
Admittedly, he was at the peak of his existence at the beginning of the novel.
Big parties, lots of money, yes yes, very posh.
But he didn't have anyone to love.
Sure, he was IN love.
With a married woman he hadn't seen in five years.
Who didn't love him back.
Who was married with a wa-wa.  (Baby, for those of you not used to me talking).
So he has an affair with her.
*Facepalm*.
THAT is not heroic.
That's selfish.
If he really loved her, he'd let her go and be free with her hubby and her bubby and her money.
And yet.

So yeah, people end up dead.
But everyone ends up dead.
So how are we to sift the heroes from the average Joe's?

In English, Debating Over Whether Or Hamlet Was A Good King.

Okay, because I can't talk like I write in an essay, I'm going to put how I ACTUALLY feel right here.  Where Don won't see it (hopefully.  Seeing as how sod's law exists: HI Don! Look away NOW.  Tah :) ).
So yeah
Hamlet.
WHAT A GODDAMN POOF.
Honestly, just get your fucking sword out, you ponce.
"Oh, Uncle Claudy killed Dad!  I'ma pretend to be insane!  That'll fix the problem!"
What the actual fuck, Hamlet?
I mean seriously.
Insanity fixes NOTHING.
Idiot.


And he went and let his mum marry his uncle, and moans about it in soliloquos monologues later:
“ O God, God; How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable ; Seem to me all the uses of this world!”
Oh shut up, you great big poof.
Why the hell did you not DO something, then?


Now don't get me wrong here, people of the blog reading persuasion.
I love Shakespeare.
I do.
I'm a proper Shakespeare geek.
I read it.
I watch it.
I even acted in a couple.
It's not that it's a crap story.
Lovely story.
The CHARACTER is a useless prat, tbh.
He got his bits out in front of his girlfriend, and thought that it would help the fact that his uncle killed his dad???
SERIOUSLY???
Frankly, if I was a (male) philosophy student, I would not be getting my bits out in front of the girl I kinda wanted to marry.
Heck, if I was ANY gender of philosopher, my bits would NOT be dangling in the open.
My bits are not for all to see!!
And while he was supposed to be going doo-lally, (and this certainly helped prove THAT point) I do wonder whether or not he should really have done that.


I am still of the opinion that all stories should end with the ride-off-into-the-sunset-snogging scenario.
How would Hamlet do that, I hear you ask?
WELL.
Stab Polonius (Ophelia's dad).
Stab Laertes (Ophelia's brother).
Stab Claudius (Uncle/stepdad/king thing).
Grab a horse (and some woollens, obviously, because Denmark is really rather cold).
LEG IT, YOU SPINELESS HOOLIGAN!!!


I'm really supposed to be doing an essay, assessing whether or not Fortinbras assessment of Hamlet was any good.
PAHAHA
One word answer:  Uh, no.
Okay, two words.
Fortinbras thinks Hamlet would have made a good king.
HE KILLED HIS GIRLFRIEND'S DAD, AND NOT EVEN SO THAT HE COULD RUN OFF WITH HER.
Which would have been SLIGHTLY more understandable.
Only SLIGHTLY, but still.
All the damn same.
And then, after she's killed herself, mainly because of him (not your smartest idea, love) he jumps in her fucking grave.
GAH.


This essay thing has got a lot more bloody difficult since the last time I did it.
All my formal language has gone to shit.
Total, complete and utter shite.
Merde.
Mierda.
Tell you what, comment with your swearings in foreign languages.
All the damn same, I cannot write without ranting anymore.
I've got about half way through the required number of words, which is good.
Disgustingly, I have written more words here than I have in my essay.
*Facepalm*.


Oh Gawdddd.
Now I've written "The Formidable Fortinbras".  Ugh.  I despise myself sometimes.


Oh, by the by, Breast Cancer Day!
Yes.
Indeed.
We were supposed to all wear pink, apparently.
I did.  PURELY by accident.
No jokes.
Gah.
I hate Hamlet.




MMM Ham :)
^ Purely Katie, who blogs about Hamlet HERE.


Although, when she free-writes, it's pretty cool.
She should start her own blog a little like this.
That'd be awesome.
343 words of actual Hamlet.
If I could do 345, that'd be dead cool.  Still, never mind, ey?


Copying and pasting several bits of Hamlet into here, so that I can get them from home.
Ignore, unless you ACTUALLY care.

In my opinion, Fortinbras could not be more wrong on his assessment of Hamlet.
He claims that Hamlet would have "proved most royal" had he been given a chance. 
If you look at everything that happens within the play, there is nothing kingly about him!
The first thing Hamlet could have done that would have been royal was prevent the too-soon marriage of his mother and his uncle.  A royal may have stood up for what he believed was right (not adultery, in this case) and now, being the protector of his mother after his father's death, put his foot down and said "No!  It has only been two months since your husband, my father, died.  I demand you grieve some more!"
That would have been very royal, and many may have held him in a very high esteem.
Even if he didn't put to rest the idea of his mother's remarriage, a good, noble thing to have done would have been, having learnt of his father's murder, to have chopped Claudius' head off in vengeance (something which would have been respected and honoured in the day of the play).  Instead, he does something which seems meak and weedy, and pretends to go insane.
The author of this does not in the slightest see how madness would help in this situation.
Fortinbras must KNOW that Hamlet went mad.
So how has he come to the conclusion that Hamlet would have made a fit king?  Ridiculous.
The next thing Hamlet does that I disagree with is the fact that, whilst mad, Hamlet bares himself infront of the woman he has seduced.  That is not in the least royal, regal, noble, or however you call it.  This is humiliating for Ophelia, and not even a tiny bit dignified, which kings always seem to be.
So Hamlet is being highly unkingly now, and continues to be for the rest of the play.
In actual fact, the only good things that this author can see about Hamlet is that he does want revenge (yet goes entirely the wrong way about it), and then has a duel.
The duel is a noble thing to do.
I'm unclear as to the reason they duel.  Possibly for Laertes' father's honour, or Ophelia's honour.  But I'm not sure.  At least this part is in all fairness.
This is the only part however.
The rest of the play is spent with Hamlet dashing about the castle acting like someone out of an asylum, when he could actually be doing something useful with his time, like defending his father's honour, ending his mother's adulterous marriage, or, and this would be the best ending in my opinion, getting Ophelia's hand in marriage, forgetting the whole affair with the murder and the adultery and the throne, and taking Ophelia off to somewhere nicer, or warmer, and marrying her there, having a whole bunch of good looking babies, and being generally happy with life.
So no.  Fortinbras is NOT right in that Hamlet would have made a great king.  He was a philosopher and a pansy.

________________________________________________________________

In my opinion, Fortinbras could not be more wrong on his assessment of Hamlet.  He claims that Hamlet would have "proved most royal" had he been given a chance.  If you look at everything that happens within the play, there is nothing kingly about him!  The play begins with Hamlet bitterly infuriated by his mother’s marriage to his father’s brother only two months after the father’s death. 

This being the time of not an awful lot of female emancipation, Hamlet, as the eldest son in the family, and so the oldest male, could well have stepped in at this point and said to Gertrude “Look, Mum.  I object to your marrying of my uncle.  Why?  My dad has been dead about two months, and actually, this just makes you look callous and a bit on the easily-bedded side.  So could you possibly hold off for JUST a bit?”.  This confrontation would have made him seem manly, in control, and therefore more likely to be a marvellous king.  This is not, however, what he did.  He just let it happen, and moaned about it in soliloquies later. “ O God, God; How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable ; Seem to me all the uses of this world!”  This seems very ignoble, and rather like he’s procrastinating, or even lamenting his idiocy.

Later on in the play, Hamlet learns from his dad’s ghost that Hamlet Sr. was killed by Claudius so that Claudius could become king.  Remaining on the nobility subject, surely the correct and just thing to do would be to go off and take the head of Claudius off.  This, sadly, is not what Hamlet does.  This kingly, royal act of vengeance over his poor, dead father is dashed aside by the though of going “mad”.  It is not completely understood by this writer quite why going “insane” will be beneficial, making me question his tactics.  Any tactics that are questionable do not bode well for the heir to any throne, let alone one under siege by he of Norway, the formidable Fortinbras!

We're all talking about swans, geese, and how frightening they are.
-_-
There are photos, and white shorts turned green.
She says I don't have to take minutes on everything that she's saying, and that it's kind of creepy.
She'll live.
She's got a disgruntled expression.

Tree surgeons are apparently children killers.
ODD times.
Benny Hill and Woody the Woodpecker ???
Nyurgh.
Hopefully, soon, I can get home, and check my phone and apologise to anyone who might have called.

NEVER call drivers wankers.
Lesson for life.
Long damn story, however.
Going now, maybe.
Definately.
Scary stories :D
Tirrarrrrrr xxxxxxx

On Being Sat At The Open Evening, Dismally Bored, With 1.5 Hours To Go

Very nearly smacking my head against a table.
When those blokes come back with their pink tshirts, I am SO going to find Sarah.
Even though she's a cow.
Gah.
So unispired.
Lonelyyyyyyy
Ever so lonellyyyyyyyyy
*smack*
If I've died of boredom by the time anyone gets this, please cremate me?
Please?
I don't want to lie in a big box in the ground, getting slowly eaten by worms.  Ack.
Dear archaeologists of the future.
Sorry for not being your next biggest discovery, but try some other graveyard, 'kay?
ARGHHHHHH.
Why, why why??
Dear Harry, if you read this and I am dead, it's because you didn't pick up your phone and come see me in town while I waited.
ALL
YOUR
FAULT.

I may kill myself like THIS.
That would be dead good.
(Ba-boom-bm chssssssh).
Much prettier than hanging myself or shooting myself or poisoning myself or making like a monk and burning myself.
Flowers and shit :D
Much joy.
I rather like floating.
Haven't done it in a while.
Figured when my bum starting dragging me down into the water it was either time to stop eating cake or excercise.
I genuinely like cake better than I want a small butt.
Especially cheesecake.
PINK SHIRT BOYS ARE BACK.
Adios, biatches. xxx

On Trying To Decide What The Fuck To Do With My Life

Okay, so I'm one of those people who always has a plan of what to do with their lives.
When I was three, I had a plan to have a baby at fifteen (no joke).
At 9, I knew which GCSE's I was doing (a selection which has since changed beyond all recognition).
At eleven, I basically had a plan for my ENTIRE life, involving weddings at twenty, babies at twenty one, and just not doing uni whatsoever.
And last year, I formed a plan for the next five or six years of my life, about uni and gap years and a levels.
And now I'm not happy.
Wtf?
So, until yesterday, I thought that what I was going to do was do five A levels, plus the Extended Project Qualification, to get me that AQA Baccalaureate, and then go to uni, do English Lit, then a teaching thingummy, and then be a teacher until my witterish writing is recognised as utter genius that is worth even more money than that of J.K. Rowling, and so forth retire to my mansion to write about pirates and trains and beer until I see fit that I have enough money to sustain myself and my family in the manner we have become accustomed to for the rest of our lives.  Maybe sticking in an extra uni course or two here and there.
Yeah, alright, a little more than five or six years, but that really is the extended version.
Except, now, I'm not happy with Drama.
At all.
It's not as good as last year by far, and I think I probably really needed it to be.
I'm getting WAY stressed.
So I decided to speak to the fabulous Don, who is my tutor, and fabulous, about wtf I should be doing with my time.
He was blunt.
It's a good thing.
So, now, I'm not doing the AQA Bacc.
Why?
Bloody pointless.
You only really need three a levels.
That'll get you to uni.
Duh.
*facepalm*
But yes, so.  Now I'm not doing the AQA Bacc, I don't actually have to worry about staying on my Drama course, which would actually be bloody good.
But do I REALLY want to drop it?
I mean, acting is bloody great.
But the feeling of the place is rubbish.
Lots of nice people, little to no nice feelings, really.
I feel self concious, awkward, and utterly crap in comparison to EVERYONE else.
May just be a confidence issue.
It's entirely possible.
But now I've got this awkward thumpy feeling in my chest, because it was a HUGE relief to get the pressure of the AQA Bacc off my mind, but there's still the panic about Drama, and the assessment next week, and how I JUST DON'T WANT TO BE THERE ANYMORE.
I mean, I'll do the assessment next week, purely because I think the girl I'm working with would fucking kill me if I abandoned her, and I'll admit, she's intimidating.
So there we go.
Now I have to make a decision about Drama.
Everything is kinda telling me to bail, except this one little voice in my head that's accusing me of losing my stubborn streak.
I KNOW it's there.
It's just having a bit of a wobble.
Question:  Should I be being stubborn that I need to be happy, or that I need to get a decent college education?
Although, four A levels are still more than I need.
People will give me jobs and degrees (okay, gotta work for those too, but you know what I mean.).
I just wanted five.
See?
There it is.
The little perfectionist.
GRARGH.
I really need to get rid of that bitch, she's no good for me.
And yet, motivates to do better.
Too much better.
I am trying to do too much.
So, drop Drama and hope to God Cathy doesn't hate me??
It's a plan.
Good plan?
Who knows.

Daytime Television

It's actually shit.
The Barefoot Contessa is neither barefoot OR a contessa.
Seriously.
It's false advertising, and I swear she uses an entire KILO of salt everytime she cooks.
I kid you not.
She made this anniversary dinner for her friends, and their three year old and also their one year old.
AND GAVE THEM PRACTICALLY RAW MEAT.
And proceeded to eat with them.
Actually, Ina, I think if it were MY anniversary, I would prefer to eat cooked food, and not with some fat old whore who has a misnomer as a tv show, and keeps doing picnics with practically a whole salmon EACH as a STARTER.
No wonder your chins wobble when you walk.

However, not all daytime telly is a complete write off.
Especially when you get to watch shows, guilt free, that you haven't watched since you were wee.
Such as Little Bear.
Or perhaps Rolie Polie Olie.
And even the classic Tom and Jerry cartoons.
Which never get old, btw.

Nigella Lawson in her prime doesn't actually exude sex appeal.
I'm not kidding.
This was before they tarted her up and just made it so processed and ridiculous and fake that it's unbelievable.

Okay, run out of steam.

On Not Having Any More Homework, And Other Stuff

Study period. (Well, we'll get on to that).
Am sat, in the library, having a bit of a type and a catch up with homework, which is TECHNICALLY late but hopefully no-one will notice and I will still get paid.
All my homework is done.  No jokes.  And there are a good fifteen minutes before I can feasibly excuse myself from the library and wander on up to English, where I will witter about Hamlet and the like.
So I'ma sit here.
Bored.
SPEAKING OF WHICH,
the bastards won't let me out of ACE.
For anyone reading this who DOESN'T know what ACE is, it's essentially an extra class where they chuck me in with a whole bunch of smart kids who are gonna do well in their exams and make them fundraise for a few months before we get on to the bit that I REALLY want to do.
Which is the extended project.
The extended project is gonna get me an AQA Baccalaureate, which is posh and lookings effing awesome when applying to Unis.  Which would be good, because I rather want to go to one.
HOWEVER.
I don't want to spend the next three months sat in a class of smart people thinking of ways to make money.  If I want to make money, I will get all my homework finished so that I can qualify for my ema, and then buy KFC with it.  Not that I'm doing that often, it's just a health thing.
No, KFC isn't healthy.
LOOK, let's just move on.
Basically, I have to stay for three months doing fundraisy crap so that I can get an AQA Bacc.  Which sucks hairy cock, if I'm honest.  I would much rather just take an hour and a half break to either just chill or do homework.  Today, homework.
Next week, I'm thinking coffee, cinnamon swirls and a decent book.
Maybe Hamlet.  I'm not saying it's this awesome book, I'm saying we're doing it for English and if I read that WHILE I nom, it'll look like so called "independant study".
Which I swear is just code for "get out of our hair, but make it look like you're working towards your marvelous A levels you're gonna get.
Which I will, for sure!
It's just that I'm doing that all damn week with hardly any rest and really, I'd just like to have a bit of a nap, catch up on some sleep, or even better just not do the homework the night before and instead do it in my ACE session.
There is really not much that is ACE about it.
Such a goddamn misnomer.
Has anyone noticed it's really damn cold today??
I mean, it's not a random change of subject...  Well, it is.
NOT THE POINT.
My little finger hurts it's so cold!!  I do not see how people open windows in this weather.  I miss my granddad jumper!!
Okay, 14 minutes to English.  What else can I tell you?
Oh, yeah.
Boyfriend-best friend bonding time sounds a LOT worse out loud.
*Facepalm*
Gotta talk to him about that.
Really, I just intended for it to be like a movie the three of us went to watch, because he abides my best mate, and I appreciate that.
Right, now, I'm not kidding or anything, but a girl in my Socio class turned up today in hot pants.
Now, I'm really not joking, and I'm not joking when I say that the temperature outside is ....  *waits for BBC to load* at a maximum of 17 degrees celsius.  I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING.  The lowest it could be is twelve.  And HOT PANTS????
I mean sure, stick tights underneath em, but I'm freezing in my jersey dress, coat, scarf, jeans, long socks and converses. 
So she might just catch hypothermia.
I'd be worried if I didn't think she should just have more sense than that.
Hot pants are not acceptable after August.
Which makes me sound like one of those posh tarts from America who talk about white shoes after Labor Day or whatever, but REALLY.
HOT PANTS??
ARE YOU FUCKING MAD???
Stupid woman.
I also don't get these people in just leggings and a tshirt.
Sure go around in that if you're just cleaning or slobbing or hormonal or whatever.
But just out and about?
We don't want to see your thong through your leggings, and trust me, ladies, we always can.
ALWAYS.
Okay, three minutes.
The inventer of the Segway appears to be dead.
Oh dear.
He did make those Spanish policemen (probably Spanish) look like twats though...
ANYWHO, I'm off.
Leave some comments.
Argue with me, if you like.
Just remember, I love you.

I Hate FaceBook

It's got plus points, yeah.
You can spy on exes.
You can spy on pretty much anyone, and post photos of people who don't have FB with them looking stupid and they'll never know.
You can keep up with people you don't particularly care about but feel an obligation to.

And then there's the downside.
When it crashes, and all you wanna do is post:
Maddy Heal is going to play this song on repeat until it drives her parents insane, then play it one more time.


*Sigh*

On Being Sat In Tutor, A Wee Bit Bored

Let's be honest here, that's basically all there is. 
Blogging away.

*Deep Sigh*

The English trip to France has been cancelled, and I am deeply upset.

I wanted to go to France.  I miss speaking the occaisional French to make myself feel like a smarty pants.

AND I really like pain au chocolat, which Joe spelt very wrong in his story about Hitler Pig, but it's okay, because the rest of it was pretty good.  It is called Piglet, and you can find it here.

Read it, because it's a fascinating allegory of the World War Number 2, and also it has pigs, which makes any story better.  He also has relatively fascinating opinions, so read some of the other stuff he's written too.

Although I feel you should also read A Smack Of Fate, which I co-wrote.

It has Destiny's Child as fairy godmothers, and a scientist called Derek.  You should love it.

Something I find frankly infuriating, however, is that people seem to think their college courses are more important than me obtaining pastry!!  Je ne comprende pas.  Pastry, c'est bon!  Especially cinnamon pastry.  Speaking of which, cinnamon is VERY good in crumble, but I would recommend making the topping with brown sugar when making apple crumble, as it creates a kind of toffee-ish flavour, which very much complements the apple and improves the crumble on the whole.  I may make another, with plums, tonight, if my dad can get off his arse and get some plums.  And some shoelaces.  White ones would be nice.  But I doubt that will compute, so my converses may look a little funky tomorrow.

Thinking about crumble is making me hungry.  Not great when I have "Lunch Surprise"!  It's not that it's a particularly scary thing or anything.  It's just that I don't know what it is, which is less than satisfactory.

Here is a picture of a cinnamon swirl:

They are ludicrously yummy.

If a cinnamon swirl is a new thing to you, then I would recommend going forth into a baker's and buying one, as your culinary adventure is not complete without one.

Okay, now I'm REALLY hungry.

Really, really, stupidly awfully hungry.

And I'm going to have to spend my last quid on pastries at lunch.

Stupid pastry craving.

Well, what can I tell you about my weekend.

My cousin got married.

I drank more in a night than I do in a year.

Danced ONCE to Cotton Eyed Joe.  Which I will now get stuck in my head.

I ate turkey.  I don't regret it, it was that or nutloaf, and it is a MYTH that all vegetarians like that shit.

I got invited to stay by ALL of my older cousins (some with less crowded houses than others.  For example, where Dave and Farah and Karen and Shaun are little duo units, Alan and Chae have four kids.).

The pope also visited, but not us.  Mainly probably because my family are protestant if anything, and mainly not religious.  I'll be honest, I goldfished all the hymns and cracked jokes in my head throughout most of the service.  "God may not be visible, but he is all around us"  "IF I CAN'T SEE HIM, HE'S NOT THERE".

I'm ashamed of me too.

Yes, I'm going to hell.

But hey.

They'll have invented immortality by the time I get old enough to kick the bucket.

Pastry :(

And, actually, just general food would be nice.

38 minutes til lunch.

I could write some of my VAGUELY erotic pirate story.  (Can you blame me?  Really?)

If the feeling takes me, I could write for hours.

However.

The only feeling I have at the moment is "PASTRY"

33 minutes to go.

Trying to renew my library books.

Sadly, the internet at college is beyond a pisstake.

More than likely because there are about fifty people in here trying to log on, plus all the apple macs in the musicy bit, plus any number of other stuff.

GAH.

And apparently I need to go pick up the great gatsby.

I don't want to.

I got about five pages in and nearly died of boredom.

It's actually mostly pirate books I have.

FOR RESEARCH.

:P.

Okay, mostly research.

Not that there are that many pretty pirates in there anywho.

Okay, everything is now due on the 21st of October.

Should probably get reading them.

Want food :(

PASTRYYYYYYYYYYY.

Looking forward to next Thursday, where I have to come into school for fifteen minutes only.

HAHA.

I fully intend to go out and spend my ema.

Probably on food.

Maybe I will ask Aaron, who has a blog here if he would like to go to Yo Sushi the monday after next instead, because I will have ema then too.

In defence of my eating habits, sushi might be raw fish, but actually it's rather yum, and you can get veggie stuff and chickeny stuff and beefy stuff too.  And puddings!  They have really nice little glutinous parcels.  Mmmmmmmm.

Sadly, with the internet so rubbish here, I cannot load it up to check the policies on Blue Mondays.

I really need to get a decent student ID, too.  Mine does NOT qualify me for discounts, which sucks cock.

Hmm, hello.

Is that extra discount I see??

Ah.

Ends today.

Bastards.

SO VERY HUNGRY.

Signing off this now, because I'm being repetitive and dull.

Exactly why Matt Day will not be getting any of my EMA.

A concise list:
1) I am working to get that money.  I take five a levels and am doing an extended project.  I do not see him doing my homework!!
2) He's a bit creepy, tbh.
3) MY MONEY.
4) MINE.
5) I rather want to use it to get needles shot through my ears.
6) And possibly a new dress.