BRB

Goin 2 Amsterdam

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

IF THE LITTLE KIDDIES START COMING TO CAT I THINK I WILL EXPLODE.
You have taken so much away from me with your retarded private schooling and trying to act superior. PUT YOUR NEON LEGGINGS THE FUCK AWAY AND GO TO POP! GOES THE WEASEL OR SOMETHING. BURN YOUR FAKE ID. If you really think you look 18 then you wouldn't need fake ID would you?



jhifjdifsjk die die die.




Then again, I'm allowed to keep both sandals.
WIN.

But then again I'm going to Holland tomorrow to spend quality time with Dutch(therefore very rude about the way I'm dressed as they are still in the bootcut jeans era) so I won't be seeing Lorna, Ella or Sophie until late August.
FAIL

Pshhhhttt

AND THERE I WAS THINKING MYSPACE LIKED ME.

SHOEZ

I've always liked gladiator sandals, its just that my calves have the ability to crush babies, so I know that if I were to wear a pair my legs would look like sausages wrapped too tightly in string. But this summer I've been DREAMING about gladiator sandals and it was like a calling for me to buy a pair or something. I went to Aldo today and saw this pair:

They weren't too bad at £30 on sale, but they only came in white, and the black ones would have cost me £60 and there was no way in hell I'd pay that much. I ended up buying them after a rather embarassing incident which incuded me getting the zip at the back stuck and one of the shop workers seeing my underwear.

As soon as I walked into Urban Outfitters about half an hour later, I realised I preferred these as they looked like they would be more flattering, plus a lot cheaper at £17.99.
I bought them and when I tried to return the white ones there had been a leak in Aldo and the shop was closed so there was no way I could actually return them. But now looking at them I really really want to keep them, but spending £47 on shoes, with money that isn't even mine is wrong so I should give them back.
If I'm really really lucky I could keep them both. I honestly don't care if the white ones make my calves look like induvidual people I HAVE GROWN PHYSICALLY AND MANTALLY ATTACHED TO THEM.


Also New Look is a wanker as they didn't have that belt in stock. Gaylords.



But on the tube on the way home some old bloke that reeked of shit got on the carriage and cornered me, forcing me to listen to him screaming random crap about windows and Grandmothers. Everyone elkse on the carriage was lucky as they could all move, but I couldn't because he had me blocked between him and the glass. Afer about 15 minutes of him staring down my top, screaming obscenities and trying to start a fight with a man in the next carriage he finally fucked off. Ended up talking to a guy who lived in East Acton and was in this play about Florence Nightingale or something. He seemed to have a mild cardiac arrest when he found out my age, but then as soon as I said bye he gave me his number and told me to call him.
I don't think I ever will. He did have really cool shoes though.

I love how weirdos on public transport bring people together.

GETTING THIS TOMORROW.
Before the I am dragged kicking and screaming to Holland on Monday.


I also watched that film about the boy who's raised in the underground bunker (Fritzl style) and then gets set into the world aged 35 and comes across as super retarded. BRENDAN FRASER WAS IN IT AND I HAVE ACTUALLY FANCIED HIM FOR YEARS.
I think Tarzan and the Mummy did it for me.

THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT.


Anyways, goodnight I am off to bed-Its like 25 degrees and I feel like my face is melting. The fake tan I put on my legs (I usually never use fake tan, DON'T JUDGE) seems to be melting off slightly and now my legs look slightly discoloured.

Fail.

FAIL.

I am actually going to Holland after I managed to get totally lashed in front of my parents on Wednesday. It was probably one of the most humiliating and mortifying things that has happened to me in a long time, plus I have so much crap happening at the moment which doesn't make things any better. Adding on to that, I will not have seen my boyfriend for over 2 weeks, as I leave on Monday and come back the following Monday.

D:

But today I went shopping to buy some books at Brent Cross and ended up buying clothes. THANK YOU RETAIL THERAPY.
Bought a grey and white Topshop dress with a bow pattern on it and a massive zip down the front, a bright floral tiered skirt from Topshop (I got really sick of these type of skirts as the whole Luella thing got too much, but I like this one for its brightness) and THE FRENCH CONNECTION PLAYSUIT.
They didn't have it in light denim, but they did have the darker denim version, so I got it. REDUCED FROM £65 TO £20.
Plus Topshop had a sale on so in total only £40 was spent. Plus for the first time in ages, my Mum actually paid. It feels nice for a change to not just have to keep going to Primark all the time due to insufficient funds. But this also means that when I get my £160 cheque, I will also get my monthly £50, and as I'm away I won't be spending any money as I already have enough new outfits so I will be pretty well off when I get back.

Its a sad reality, but money does make people slightly happier. Plus, as Lorna said, going to Holland will be a detox which is really what I need right now. I'm in a much better mood today.
:]





Also, is it just me or is Gaspard Ulliel très très sexy?Its probably because he has a French accent and big nose. "I want his babies" is an understatement.

WIN.

I should have a totally free house next weekend. My Mother and Brother are in Holland, whilst my Dad is cycling or something. They aren't scared of me throwing a party, they're just worried I'll leave the windows open and stuff so random hobos can climb in and kill me.
The truth is that this will probably happen.


But next weekend I am havin ma bf round fo' sho. But there's a lot of embarassing shit in my room that I have to hide, like stuffed animals from years ago.
I USED TO HAVE SO MANY YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. I would spend weeks asking for the random hedgehog toy and then call it something like Stanley and put it in with all the other Stanleys.
I used to alphabetise them-My OCD started young.


N E WAIZ.
I am a rather hapsed person right now.

SO PROUD

MY BLOG HAS HAD OVER 500 VIEWS

:D

Muuuhhh D:

I WANT MY TIBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO



Being alone at home is lonely and boring at 2am.

Powar ov da pasta.

After sitting behind a homeless bloke eating a subway sandwich on the N207 at about 5am you realise how hungry you are after consuming half your bodyweight in solid alcohol, but there's no way of buying any food from the shops as your friend is vomiting on a shop's doorstep and I doubt Maccy D'd would want her adding to the already putrid smell.
So when you finally get home after talking to weird drunk men on the bus asking for your number or to get in between your legs, you possibly waste 10 minutes of your life trying to get your key into your front door.
Those 10 minutes you will never get back. Ever.
The two biggest thoughts on your mind are if you have anything edible at home and if you can get to the loo on time.(It won't be hard going to the toilet as half your mates have already peed in alleyways so they don't have to go anymore. Au revoir dignity.)
The rule is when you get home you have to eat really carbohydrate-filled foods ensured to makeup for all the weight you lost dancing. Therefore it is pretty much always pasta. Really shitty pasta that seems good at the time until you realise the next morning that it was in fact a pile of crap.

HOW TO COOK 5AM DRUNK PASTA:

Ingredients:

• Pasta shells( or anything resembling pasta usually does it)
• 2 cans of pre-chopped tomatoes
• A garlic clove
• Random spices and herbs you find in your cupboards
• Stock cube

How to cook it:

1. Put pasta in a pan filled with water, spill a lot of it and laugh hysterically while your friend tells you how the guy she got off with turned out to be a woman.
2. Get a frying pan and empty out the cans of chopped tomatoes into the pan, being careful not to get any on your nice new FCUK dress. Realise 2 cans was too much, maybe cry a little. The cry some more when you remembered your boyfriend who broke up with you 5 years ago never loved you. Also that you're ugly and fat. And how your Mother never loved you.
   
3. Add stock cube. Don't tell any vegetarians.
4. Crush the garlic clove with a garlic clove crusher thingy. NOT WITH A KNIFE. FOR GOD'S SAKE DO NOT USE A KNIFE. You will end up looking like the man who took loads of ket and fed his face to dogs.
   
5. Put in loads of random herbs and salt to the point where it's becoming more solid than liquid.
6. Remember you forgot to start cooking the pasta. Set your eyebrows on fire when using the stove. (I have done this so many times. EYELASHES DON'T GROW BACK FOR MONTHS)
7. Sit down at the table with friends whilst waiting for the pasta to cook. Talk about how deformed you nipples are/how your boyfriend can't get it up/that you like men with put bellies and mustaches-Reeeeaaally loudly, so your little 10-year old brother can hear it from upstairs.
8. Take pasta off the stove. It should be overcooked, burnt or still hard.
9. Mash up the sauce, sending tomato flying everywhere. (NVM BOUT DAT-ur mum can clean it)
10. Fill each bowl to the brim with barely any pasta and loads of sauce and enjoy.
11. By the end of it about 2 of you should be wanting to throw up and the others all have to agree that It's the best food they've ever had.
12. Wake up the next morning with pasta stuck between your teeth and try to ignore your friend lying half naked on the floor.
    

ITZ ALL GOOD IN DA HOOD WIV DA BF

Last night we sat in our underwear googling these pidgeon things.
Goodtimes.

You know what?

Some people can just go fuck themselves.

BON VOYAGE

Au revoir Cigarettes!
I am giving up smoking as today I woke up not being able to breathe. I can now but the air is rasping in my throat, plus I can't find my inhaler which looks like a tampon. I apparently has asthma when I was a baby but I've not had any problems since, and now I'm scared that smoking will re-envoke it. Plus if I stop smoking I will save myself a bit of money which is always a plus.

Boyfriend was working yesterday, so I'm seeing him tomorrow I think. Hopefully that can help me decide on what to do.
AHH I FEEL SO SHIT.

Fatty boom-boom

If you were to set up a camera in front of a chair, and then sat on that chair for a couple of weeks just eating buckets full of crap, would you be able to fast forward that video and notice weight gain?
I really want to know, but I don't know anyone who wants to volunteer for it. I also just realised I have never written volunteer before-FANK DA LORD 4 SPELLCHECK.

I don't like being at hooome-It makes me feel all bored and depressed about things, such as the probable break-up with my boyfriend. I am preparing myself for it. He barely ever calls/texts anymore, and I'M the one arranging to meet up every time. In the beginning he liked me more than I liked him, then I started reeeeaaalllly liking him so now I'm pretty screwed. I'll see him tomorrow and see how it goes.
At the moment I'm feeling pretty casual about it all, but my mood keeps changing so I might be crying my eyes out laterr. I WISH MA EYEZ WERE HOLEZ SO MY TEARZ CUD FILL DEM.
I don't know. It might just be my neuroticism. kicking in again, but then again thins are so different from what they used to be.
Being in a relationship is hard, but then again being single makes me turn annoying and slutty. I know if I was in a relationship for too long, I'd end up like this.
If I was single for ages, THIS WOULD SO BE ME:


BLEGHHHHHHHHH
I am going to do something productive now, like watch Big Brother. Hopefully watching orange women playing a game of football with a blind guy will take my mind off things.

MR PEAUNUT

Manged to earn £160 in the past two days. ABSOLUTELY KNACKERING
We also figured out that about 50,000 people go through Putney station each day. 12 hours of clicking to see how many people travel through is quite interesting. But when rush hour stops there is practically NOTHING TO DO!
The weird thing is that I actually miss sitting in a high-vis jacket in the corner of the station on the grubby floor, writing down how many people have walked past every 5 minutes.
:/
I also miss the hobo who talked to himself ald kept picking up cigarette butts and smoking them. I know if I fail my exams I will end up like him.
Cool.




I WILL SEE THE FRENCH ONE TOMORROW.
IF I DON'T I WILL END UP HANGED IN MY ROOM. Actually thats too emo. How shameful.
N E WAIZ
OFF TO ANOUSKAZ WIV MA ICING SUGA.
brb.

Idiot

I miss him.

Urgh.

Oh yeah

I got offered a job selling sunglasses at Portobello market. The man's a bit of a perv and seems to hire blonde girls but I'm taller than him and could probably kill him with one hand if he tried anything.
He offered me £45 for 9 hours work, but I'm not doing it unless its over £50. I deserve minumum wage for selling sunglasses whilst a man stares down my top.
Then I'm also going to apply for a job on Monday and Tuesday where I use a clicker to count the number of people coming on and off trains at some station. Then I get £160. That is goooooood.

But I think for the market stall job Ill take fashion inspiration from nuns. Coz I aint havin no man perv ova ma bodeh!

Baby one more time

Stayed at Lornas last night and watched Crossroads with Lorn and Sophie. It was probably some of the cheesiest crap I have ever seen. But It was pretty good cheesy crap.
Half of it made me cringe so much my head hurt, especially the part when she shows her "new BF" her poetry book. (Note that this is a guy she met a few days before" He then digs out a piano out of nowhere and they sing "I'm not a girl not yet a woman together" on the piano.
They then kiss and a day later she loses her virginity to him.

Then she moves to LA with him 3 days later.
This girl seems to be the epitome of clingy and annoying.

The poor guy is probably crying himself to sleep each night in the bathroom, and has to physically lock himself in to stop her from following him.

But it also made me remember the old Britney-Back when she still had hair, a good career and dignity.
I blame Kevin Federline personally, and her parents.
I MISS THE OLD BRITNEYYYYY

(Insert annoying Chris Crocker phrase here)

I hate Chris Crocker.
I want to burn him.

Fucking hormones

Suddenly feel crap.
Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.

Mi mo meh

ANOUSKA IS MOVING TO BRIGHTON.
I will miss that ginger.
Stayed round her house with Lorna last night and I don't think I've laughed so much in ages. We dressed her up as a man and stuff. I think it was one of those things where you have to be here. Then today I had to wake up ealy and leave hers as I had an induction day at Twyford. It went really well I think and everyone was soo nice and linked in strange ways to people we already knew which creeped me out slightly.
ON THE REGISTER I WAS PUT DOWN AS MALE.
wtf.

All those years of bullying suddenly came rushing back OBVIOUZLY. Now whenever I look in the mirror I see facial hair and pecs. If I was a man I would blatantly be really hench and have pecs/sixpack. I would want to be a skinny bloke though and be able to wear skinny jeans without looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger squeezed into a pvc catsuit. Being too muscly is gross. I personally find the sexiest men the ones who are quite thin and tall but with some muscles, where you can see them if he flexes.
mmmmm.

The eejat boyfriend is still gone and I realised today I have not stayed over his for 2 weeks because of him always being abroad. If this continues I will most probably end up dry-humping most objects to the point where grannies run away from me screaming because I just sexually attacked their walking sticks or something.
The thing in my arm is actually so cool though-I can feel the lump but I can't remove the plaster yet so it looks like theres been some serious blood-extraction going on or something.
:/









N E WAIZ.
I might go to bed.
Actually no it's 9.
I don't know what to do with myself.

Note to self:

Never duct tape my boobs in an attempt to make a backless bra.
The weird red marks the next morning isn't worth it.



YAZ PORN.
Note that my aren't actually that deformed . My boobs are actually bigger than this as well but still quite small.
ITZ OKAY TO BE AA.


I'm not actually that flat chested though. I just thought it was a clever rhyme.

I have decided that from now on I will always sneak my own drink into clubs. Spent a tenner this time which is better than last time, but I could have done so much more with that. Then the fucking bus driver said my oyster expired so I had to pay £2.
Idiot.

Plus I feel things aren't the same with Frenchie. At first he seemed really keen on me, almost too keen, but now I like him way more than I did and he seems to like me but not as much as at first. He's in France for his cousins wedding. His cousin is 18 which is too young to get married. The thought of getting married around my age just creeps me out.

...

OH GOD WE LEFT OUR BAGS IN THIS ROOM WHICH REEKED OF SICK.




This jumper is defo going into the wash right now.

Wohay

SAW DA BF LOLZ.
He's buggering off to France on Friday so he might not be able to come see Yelle with me at Koko on Thursday as he has to be up early. Plus he said Yelle was a "pile of French shit" which made me laugh-I agree. It's like you're listening to French toddlers on E.
Actually that probably IS what you're listening to.
But tomorrow I'm going shopping with him which should be really funny as I've never been to Zara men before-I never even go in to Zara LET ALONE ZARA MEN.
The most I've ever ventured into men's clothing shops is into Topman and H&M, never REAL men's shops. There's something about neon hoodies which doesn't shout "RESPECTABLE ADULT HERE." If I were to work in a bar I would refuse serving anybody in a neon hoodie, unless of course they had severe facial hair or wrinkles. But even then I would want ID.


But by a man's clothes you can really work out what sort of person they are:

TOPMAN:
This shop varies, as amongst all the "youthful" garments you can find tailored suits and clothing for grown men. But most of it is aimed at 14 to 20-year olds. Pretty much all skinny indie boys shop here then rip the labels out and pretend to people that they're all alternative and shopped vintage. NAME ME ONE VINTAGE SHOP WHICH SELLS PERFECTLY FITTED RED SKINNIES GUSTAV? eh? eh?
Topman is both loved and loathed by many, as it is seen as a commercial shop and people believe it makes them less original for shopping there. Honestly I think it's all good as long as you veer away from the coloured hoodies with the print in the hood, and the plimsolls. Why pay £20 if you can pick them up in Brick Lane for a fiver?
Or head to India and ask a small child to make you two hundred for a mere 5 rupees. You would be able to do the same for all the rest of the clothing actually, Topman are SUCH a rip-off.



H&M:
Also, like Topman, are famous for their obviously-branded hoodies. I can spot a H&M hoodie from a mile away.(This goes for Women's hoodies as well.) The second you see the "I am UFO" print on one of them you just know.
I see H&M as the needy child who just won't ever be as good as his brother, Topman. The prices are cheaper though, and probably most of the same stuff as in Topman, but there isn't as large a range. Most "ZOMG I'Z AN ALTERNATIVE PERSON ND I LYK CLUBZ" would happily pop down to H&M to pick up a cheap hoodie or tshirt so they can spraypaint it when they get home. Or possibly wear it during the day, when they have to pretend to be a normal person.

Zara:
Never properly been in here, except that time where I got lost. I was really lost as I don't even know why I was in Zara, let alone man Zara.
When I think of Zara I see sharp tailoring, very European-looking clothing which you imagine most Dutch/Beligian/French/German people to wear. I think it's an Italian Brand. I also imagine a lot of Italian men wearing it. The vision is too realistic. That Italian look-ironed shirt, slightly bootcut jeans, simple belt, pointed loafers. Overly tanned with black hair often slicked black.
The worrying thing is I described my boyfriend, except he is sightly pasty(because of winter though) and he doesn't slick his hair back(unless he's just showered).
O_o



I think I'm having a slight identity crisis here now, the first time I saw him I thought he was Dutch, and now I have realised he dresses like an Italian. But he's French.
I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE.



The right shoulder of my jumper smells of vomit. I find this concerning as I have no idea why it does. Then again last time I wore it was after a night out at Hackney Wick, and weird shit happens in that place. Watch how someone vomited in my bag or something.


Goodnight I need to go to bed. Buying goldfish tomorrow. I intend on calling one of them Mussolini.
I wanted to call one Boris Johnson, but that would make me want to throw beer cans at it in a violent manner screaming drunken abuse about tubes. I want to save it for when I meet that hairy albino twat in real life. FI$H DEZURVE LUV.

Wooooo

I've got over wallowing in my own misery and now have things to keep my mind off stuff. Seeing Frenchie for the first time in a week-IT'S BEEN SO LONG.
He'll probably have lost his French accent and grown a large amount of facial hair, the facial hair wouldn't bother me, but if he lost his accent a lot of his sex appeal would be gone.
I'm sorry. It makes him really really sexy.
Mmmmm. Ahh I missed it.

But I got bored yesterday and decided to be creative-I've spent the past 2 afternoons doing arty things in an old book. In the book I found pictures I did when I was about 7.
I WAS SO SHITE. I'm hoping I'm better then that now.
But I've literally used up most of the kitchen foil and my bedroom has so much glitter floating round, breathing would cause your lungs to jam up. Imagine the look on the doctor's face when he's doing an autopsy and can only see sparkly things when he opens up your lungs.
But this book is the most relaxinbg thing ever
I JUST COLLAGE AND PAINT AND DRAW AND COLOUR AND GLUE. It's like therapy.
It stops all the depressing thoughts enter my mind and instead of feeling like this:




I FEEL LIKE THIS:

I'm sure if anybody broke into my house and saw the book they'd think I took a shitload of LSD. Its the most colourful happy thing you will ever see. AHHH UNICORNS ARE SO GOOD.


I still can't walk properly because of my fucked up foot so maybe tonight we'll have to go to a pub or something which would be nice for a change. I swear to God we've been to every corner of London (Minus Peckham and stuff cos thats a shithole-DON'T SHOOT ME)

I had a dream last night where my mouth was filled with glitter and couldn't come off. Maybe I have been taking LSD. YU'LL NEVA KNO

This week

I really want to be able to go a day without wanting to cry. Everything is niggling at me and I'm just waiting for it all to boil over and explode. I'm getting really confused between anger and sadness-My mood changes are getting to the point where I look at an apple and don't know whether I want to laugh at it, cry over it or actually eat it.

HASHDJSAHDJASDOA MISERYYYYYY

I'M TOO EMO

No surprises there

Obessing over yourself must get to the point where you realise everyone's bored of it?
Seriously, there must be a realisation sometime?

The fact some people haven't got the ability to actually listen to other people's problems instead of going on about theirs or constantly talking about themself 24-7 pisses me off sooo much.
Rant over.









SAW CATIO TODAY
I MISS HER TOO MUCH
Today was just soo nice
:]

Ouch

Prom was amazing. I am actually going to miss our year when I bugger off to Twyford after the holidays. Even though Chiswick was a bit of a shit school it's sad leaving everyone.

The party afterwards was so crap, we got in free which was great though. I did actually have fun with Sandro, Lorna and other people there, its just the party was really terrible.
I felt crap last night though after having some girl all over someone else. It shouldn't have upset me at all but it did-Especially after the weird behavior from him. I dont know why, but I just felt like a bit of an idiot. Plus I really miss Frenchie as he fucked off to Ireland for the weekend without a proper goodbye. He bailed on me the night before he left to play football.

I don't exactly know whats happening, but I'm seeing him less and less. I used to see him three times a week minumum, but now its only about once or twice a week so I get an odd feeling that we're slightly drifiting apart which I don't like. I'm probably being all paranoid but I just feel hurt that he went for the weekend without actually saying a proper goodbye. I'm his girlfriend for fucks sake. He's a grown man and should be capable of saying a simple goodbye or "I miss you".
I just really want him to say he misses me more than anything, I just hate the thought of him not thinking about me as much as I think about him.
What I really want the most right now is a hug from him.
I think it's reached that turning point in the relationship like it always does for me, when I start to like him more than he likes me, which is totally the opposite of when I first started seeing him. I just wonder what it is I do EVERY SINGLE TIME.

How fucking hard can it be for him to just tell me he misses me?

Prom tonight. I'm sitting here in a towel soaking wet as I just had a shower. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH PAIN MY FEET ARE IN. Recently I've been wearing heels more than ever before, as I like feeling like a giraffe and being able to look over people's heads more than before. But I paid for this as I now have the HUGEST blisters and cuts all over my feet. I thought I had a stone in my boots the other day and it turned out to be a fat blister, and last night I spent ages trying to get rid of it. It's gone now, but I am limping because of the raw flesh.
:/
So I have a feeling I'll be digging out the padded plasters for tonight and basically creating a sock out of them so I can actually walk.

Pretty pleased with myself though, as last night I did about 300 sit-ups so now my dress fits me better. I should really do that every night but I'm too lazy. All-liquids diet for today as well. God if it's like this for a gay little prom I don't want to imagine what it's like for the Oscars. Errrrrrr goddd.

But after that I have to manage to get everyone from Richmond to London Bridge tube station which I'm sure will be a mission in itself, but I WILL DO IT.
Watch how I just fall asleep by the time I get there or something as I'm knackered. Been to school 2 days running-The motivation thing went okay as we got free food and the leavers assembly was a bit crap as our form got totally boyed and the selection of photos was a bit crap. It scares me though how they used photos of us from our Facebooks/Myspaces. Jessie and I were in the "biggest posers" category which confused me.
I hope people realised the photo was a pisstake.

The sad thing is people in out school take photos like this seriously. It distresses me and makes me feel like I'm going to cringe myself to death (Is that possible? Must be.)
People from our school are so gay.

But then again yesterday I found out that Robert was right about my art marks-We got into the art gallery with all our work and I got 157/160 marks! I am sooo shocked by that. I know I spent countless hours working on my art book to the point where I contemplated suicide, but I didn't think my work was at the right standard of quality to get an A*! But that has lifted my mood so much. If they change it I think I will END my art teacher.

I want to kill a lot of things, here's a list of things I really want to kill.:

• This girl Frankie-Her voice/face makes most people heave.
• Ugg boots.
• Postmen. I was under house arrest waiting for a package all day and it came at 5pm when it was meant to be delivered at 9am
• My cold. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO BREATHE THROUGH MY NOSE WHEN I SLEEP!
• My strapless bra. I hate plain bras and this is the epitome of plain, plus it feels wrong.
• My blisters.
• My face. It has become horrendously spotty because of sudden explosion of hormones. It makes me feel shamed to be a woman.
• My upper arms. FLIBFLABFLOB.
• My empty wallet. I apologise Pieter-I will pay you back the £20 when I have the cash. DON'T TELL MUM.

Anyways I am off to slowly start getting ready-ish and watching terrible TV in my room. I only have 4 channels up there so I'm very limited seeing as it's a Friday morning. I DONT EVEN HAVE CHANNEL 5. But I'm not going to complain as I'm a pretty lucky person.
Next time I blog I'll do a rating on how orange everyone was at prom. Most girls in our school like achieving the tango man look by applying liberal amounts of fake tan.

hi yaz, you got hacked.

i love you
you make me smile when you bully me and make rude jokes about me being cancer.
one day my brain will allow me to think of a clever enough comeback


you and lia will one day take over the world.
and my life will fail spectactularly.



regards,
your mini friend with tiny feet who loves your mum xoxo

Ahhhh noooo

School tomorrow to motivate little kids that they have to be smart and not act dumb to be cool. I DID THIS AND BECAME MORE ACCEPTED SOCIALLY. Then again I lost weight and grew hair.
I regret this now as I realise the opinion that most of the people at my school have of me is not important as half of them can't count to ten or travel any further than Hounslow without being stabbed for being so retarded.
Because I dumbed myself down and stopped trying in school I have become rather thick in caparison to what I used to be. SUPA BOZZZAAA. Well, not really, I just got good marks but in my school that automatically means you study all day and enjoy World Of Warcraft.

I should tell the year 9's that being smart doesn't mean you're not cool.
BEIN' SMART MAKEZ U 2 KOOL 4SKOOL.
Then draw this in graff to make help them understand what it means.

I am not looking forward to this. I'll just sit there and think about seeing my Frenchie tomorrow whilst I have pre-pubescent children giving me evils to the point where I want to kill myself. PLUS I have to wake up early.
WHY DID I SIGN UP TO THIS?
WHYYYYYY???


I hopefully get to see Lia and Sophie though. The joy of this then gets ruined when the boyfriend buggers off to Dublin. I hope the IRA doesn't shoot him for being French or anything. Or he gets too mashed on Guiness when he visits the factory and ends up falling in a lake or something. I don't know-I just don't want him to die as I wouldn't know if he was actually dead. I doubt his friends would phone me to tell him, and I would resent him for not answering my calls or texts.
I WUD BE H8IN ON A DEAD MAN
dats not kool.