8 Feb 2010


Look! That's my Uncle in Sherlock Holmes! What do you mean that could be anyone? IT'S HIM! Honest! *feels proud*

A bird shat on me on Friday. Had I not gone through enough humiliation that week? Clearly not. Effing seagulls. We don't even live near a beach, so why the hell do about 100 hundreds seagulls find it necessary to swoop around a school? I have come to a conclusion. They are obviously Paedogulls. I am so right.

Friday night I had to lead a Guides session for my volunteering bit of DofE with my best chum Clare. It was hilariously amusing, they were doing a communication badge so we got them playing sharades and pictionary, and then moved up a step in a quite harsh way. We blindfolded all these 10 year olds and made them run around knocking into chairs...hahahaha oh dear never again. Oh well, got them their badge.
I had to babysit my horror of a little brother Friday night as well...

...not that I have a social life or anything *sigh* However there are good moments in these scenarios. As soon as my rents shut the front door, me and Matt bolted in separate directions; him to grab the computer and play violent games after nicking a box of a celebrations, me to snatch the opportunity to turn my music up 'too loud' and delve in to the unknown of Mum's wardrobe and grab any morsel of chocolate I laid eyes on. Goooooood times. She hasn't noticed. Yet.

Saturday morning my Mum dragged me out of bed at 10 (EARLY) to state we were going to the gym. Faaaabulous. Did two hours of running, cycling and did those weird-other-exercises-that-make-you-look-like-a-total-fool things but felt quite good after; let the weight loss and getting fit extravaganza COMMENCE. Although personally I think I achieved more than my Mum, who on the cross trainer (aka THE MACHINE OF DEATH), gave up after 4 mins while I went on to do 10. It KILLED me and the way my Mum casually leant against it staring at me sweating and straining on it wasn't really helpful.
That night I count as a work out session as well though as I went to an 18th birthday party down the next road. Oh my what larks that was! A whole bunch of adults and 18 year olds getting utterly carparked as my old pal MicMac would say, and seven 16 year olds hanging around raving at the back and nicking the odd drink...or quite several in Drunk George's case. Oh Drunk George, where do I begin to explain his drunken antics. Now, George is the ultimate computer geek and scientific brainbox in our school, but Geeky George now has another reputation. I'm not even going to explain his hilariousnosity, you can use your own imagination if I just say: couldn't find the light, eating lemon skins, licking fingers. Worrying yet highly amusing for everyone. Just after 1am me and Kiera made our way back in the freezing cold night to mine and collapsed aching in bed, only to talk for an hour before falling asleep. Girls ay.

Sunday was excruciatingly painful and filled with Business work. You know the er lesson where I do jack shit apart from spend the hour on Twitter? Yeah that one. I had 4 bits to do before I'd finished the whole thing and LO AND BEHOLD COMPLETED THE LOT! *curtsies and collects thrown roses* Yes, yes, thank you all, I know it's one of my biggest achievements so far this year. So consequently I actually could go on Twitter in Business today without feeling guilty! Win!
I must explain, for Max's sake, the one moment in time (French lessons) when we are both convinced that life will end. This is when *shudders* the mighty boabab *gulps* GOES MISSING. If you do not know what a boabab tree is then, firstly, biff yourself on the noggin, and then FIND OUT. It is the tree of life and hope to all mankind. Honest. And can be seen on the horizon in mine and Max's view from our French class. It stands out clearly from the rest and fascinates us all lesson. I get distracted easily in school don't I, I should probably sort th...OH LOOK A SQUIRREL!

So yes this Lion King tree calms us with its majestic ways, alas today was a foggy day...meaning NO BOABAB. Our faces locked in an expression of terror and proceeded to fidget and act in a, well, not normal manner until the fog began to clear and the wonder seeped back into our view. Was a close call. And that was the story of the Mighty Boabab.

Guess what tomorrow is? Can you guess? Any thoughts? Oh hell yes, IT'S HEAT DAY *jumps up and down like a loon* At precisley 8am tomorrow I expect to walk into the shop and find the little Indian man with my Heat on his counter just waiting for my £1 50p 10p and 5p. I CAN'T WAIT. I have a quite funny yet strange story to tell involving Heat. My Mum came into my room last week and said "There was someone from Heat on TV earlier (excuse my interruption but WHY DIDN'T SHE TELL ME) can't remember her name though...began with L I think..." "Laura Atkinson" was my immediate response which caused Mum to stare at me curiously and wander off in confusion. I'm admitting now that my Heat obession has reached a height where I know everyone that works there, what they do, and even sometimes know who writes each article. Stalkerish or dedicated? Make your choice.

Now it's time for me to totter off and watch Hustle and Glee, whilst go crazy with anticipation for an email I'm not receiving till tomorrow. What a sad life I lead. X

1 comment :

  1. Nice blog, but I think that you could have convinced more people about your uncle if you had used this picture as well :)