My All-Time Favourite Compliment

This, from the glorious man I call my boyfriend: "You look like a sexy Shakira."
Oh yeah.
Yeah, as if Shakira could get sexier...

I mean look at that. THAT is gorgeous.
EEEP :D
Honestly shocked I'm not wandering around humming I Feel Pretty.
Oh wait.
Yeah.
That's embarassing.

To be fair, this is not what I should be doing with my time, bashing another blog out.
I should be doing the work I left tutor to do, as ALL my work was at home and...
Okay, okay, yeah I lied.  I regret NOTHING, however, as my afternoon was pretty epic.
Full on, ridiculous epic.

They tried to make me do maths in Sociology.
It's odd how quickly you can find yourself becoming a conscientious objecter.

I have a ten quid book voucher in my bag. I am saving it, along with the posh chocolate that Boyfriend bought me (I swear, he may be the best thing to ever happen to me.) for a really, REALLY bad day.

I should also make a list of every book I own so that I can remember not to buy doubles.
I can see my weekend slipping away at a frightening speed.

I shall leave you now.  I hope you all have SPLENDID days.
<3 XXXXXXXXXXXX

I'm Going To Get Better At This

As of tomorrow, I am going to write down all the things that happen to me during the week, and spend Wednesday afternoons sat in the library doing a MASSIVE BLOGGING SESSION for the three hours when I do not have a free writing it all up, because quite frankly blog readers you have missed one HELL of a week.
12 days.
Almost a fortnight.
I really AM neglecting you.
If you were my child, I would so be in court by now.
ANYWAY.
My boyfriend (Yeah, that would be the bit where it was one hell of a week. I have one of those now.) has taken of late to asking a lot about whether or not anything is going to be written on this blog about him.
He fails to remember that there IS stuff written about him about the time he pinned my arms back and allowed a five year old to beat the fucking crap out of me.
Yes, reader, I go out with that one.
And it's still a healthier relationship than any of the previous ones.
For example, he shows up at mine.
He likes tea.
Oh yes, a boyfriend who likes TEA.
It's not even the best bit either.
I'm sorry, to go off on a tangent here, I have just found a photo on Facebook of a friend of a friend's new tatt.
It is fairly cliché, and is supposed to say "Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you, you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."
Nice and all.
Except that it is spelt "one's".
Oh.
Oh my goodness. (I'm also cutting back on blaspheming, and so sound pretty much like a member of the Famous Five now.)
Permanent grammar error.
Hurts so badly.
The grammar Nazi in me wants to point this out.
The logical human being is thinking that it would upset a person I don't even know.
The grammar Nazi is winning.  I must be stopped.
Hurts.  Really, REALLY badly.
They should have English students working in tattoo parlours purely for this reason.

Moving on before my head explodes.
I'm not entirely sure how much detail I can go into on the whole gaining a boyfriend thing.
Not because I think he will mind.
He reads this, he knows I'm brutal and he was actually on at me to do one.
More because I'm not entirely sure how it happened.
As an example, on Tuesday (10th? I dunno.) I was thinking quietly to myself about how there should be more time between his last gf and me, and by Thursday we were kissing.
This took 2.5 hours to explain to the best friend the Saturday after.
Mostly because of inconvenient customers and how I kept swearing when I got the timeline all confused.
He's all cute and stuff....
We already have inside jokes about jaguars.
He has tea EXACTLY how I have mine.
We eat the same sort of fish finger sandwiches.
There really are very few downsides.
Apart from the fact that he is basically my dad, but seventeen.
I do not feel bad about this, just cheated out of teenage rebellion.
May have to get some more piercings in compensation.
Or a tattoo.
Ya know, after the whole needle phobia thing pisses off.
Makes it so difficult to be rebellious when you don't want to be a goth and you don't want to act like a total slag.
Lip vs nose piercing?

I'm going to give you a picture now that hopefully the interwebs won't yell at me for reposting.  It does have the author's signature at the bottom, so it should be cool.
Dear SOPA, tah for making me paranoid, btw!!

I just feel it sums me up.
I'll be honest here, it is eleven minutes past nine and I really want to go to bed.
Full on pass out under the duvet, don't move til morning go to bed.

I have to find a way of killing time tomorrow until boyfriend (Elliot) finishes college.
He finishes three hours after I do.
Considering taking all my library books back, then buying bacon, then getting the bus back to college in time to meet him out of his exam then walk us home.  This time, though, I'd like to request not going via Burgess Road. I feel it is quicker and I am less likely to get lost going via Portswood.

What else happened this week?
Lots of things happened with boyfriend (One day I will call him only by his actual name.), like quoting Finding Nemo at each other and basically spending every available waking moment together (Not even joking), but I feel like I should sort of let him into the blog slowly rather than doing a dramatic outpouring of pent-up teenage love all at once.
And it would make you all feel a bit sick.

OH OH OH
Hanna actually said something scientifically accurate today.
About the world getting a little bit bigger all the time.
I think we may have swapped personalities, as today I got penguins and seagulls confused.
Oh yeah.
They look NOTHING alike.

Penguin

Seagull

The fact that penguins can't fly and the "penguin" I was looking at divebombed a biker does not help my credibility as an intelligent person.

Another thing that sums me up.

Sorry guys.
Okay, going to bed. Will (WILL) spend the week writing in a notebook at all available moments so that I can write you a decent blog next Wednesday.
I love you ALL.

I'm Continuing...

To pretend that I didn't intentionally block Adam.  Whoopsie.  Still, never mind.
Since the last time I blogged, several things have happened.
I got drunk and chatted up a sixteen year old, and now have to defend myself against people calling me a paedo.
I considered writing a Mills and Boon style romance between two of my friends who MUST eventually get it together because otherwise I will just die.
I invited nice Katie to come to a vintage fair.
My brother got shingles.
I sort of babysat Rachel's son Finley, who is mental and lovely all at the same time, but he kept ganging up on me with my other friend, and considering my other friend is about ten feet tall, I lost.  Miserably.
He pokes HARD.
I let Abi have access to my blog again!  She's nice.  Hi Abi :D Welcome to the nuthouse. 
I did an exam this morning.  I think I've done okay, but to be honest the question involving why authors named their characters particular things was horrible, but better than the only other option.  They also had my all time favourite question, which is nice of them.
Matt's a knob now.  Remind me to delete him from here. Should have done that while I was adding Abi.
And also Katie!! Nice Katie who is coming a-vintaging with me.
Abi and Dani are taking pictures of me.  Unimpressed.  Look like a troll with massive breasts today.
The unfortunate circumstances of forgetting that you are wearing your lowest top and wearing a push-up bra.
I mean, they looking CRACKING.
But it's the only thing you can see.
Wearing my awesome parrot skirt.  And my purple boots. Looooooooves teh boots.  Intentional typo.
I am doing literally no work, because I cba.
Katie is bashing her head on the table and complaining about life.
I understand her pain.
Moaning about boys wanking now.
Kind of understand that one too.
She's realised I'm writing about her, and looks a BIT pissed off.
She isn't.
She has confessed her secrets.
It's fair enough. 
She wants to know why.
Bahahahahaha.
Shall never tell.
Perhaps we will discuss it later when I get home so that we don't have the unfortunate incident that will unvariably happen where I blurt out her secrets to the whole room and Dani takes it and tells EVERYONE.
It will be Dani.
Or Ryan.
He's an arse.
I think I have to go to a finance talk in a minute.
HATE.
HATE FINANCE.
Ryan tells me frequently that I have a mustache.
It's degrading.
KATIE YOU DO NOT NEED TO SEARCH FOR IT
I KNOW
I KNOW I DON'T HAVE ONE.
Nah, Katie is beautiful.
And not a man.
Just going to start talking to her outloud now. 
She'd guessed it all.
Not it all.
But the basic concept.
Leaving now, <3 to all. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

So She Thought Up A Lie And She Thought It Up Quick

A: Did you block me from your blog?
Me: ...No?