My day has been made.
ABC. Easy as that.
:)
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Bullying - you're doing it. All wrong.
So, I'm a fan of the Sarcaschicks, and this week the topic is 'bullying', and considering I'm one of those people who have had tonnes of experience in this area, I decided I'd write a blog. I don't do vlogs - I feel awkward talking to a camera and seem to look in different directions - but I can do blogs, and this is the second best way of sending my message... to the world! Or at least to my future self.
As previously stated, I've had a lot of experience in the area of bullying. I moved school, suddenly, during the Christmas break after several years of bullying from one boy - let's call him Joe. Now, Joe was in my year, the same age, the same build, etc. but, for some reason, of which I can't seem to recall, Joe decided to pick on me. He called me names and he would purposely upset me during lunch and break times. I know these things happened, because I used to run home crying to my mum about it every single day, but this being one of the harshest aspects of my childhood, my fragile mind seems to have repressed these awful memories and I can't remember that time at all. Anyway, this has made it difficult for me because I was uprooted and placed in a new school so quickly - everyone already had their friends and I was an outcast - so I've always had difficulty making new friends. I can't explain it very well... but that one bully effected me until this day. Now I'm 18, with the prospects of moving up North to go to University at the end of the year, and my biggest worry is whether I'll cope with finding new friends.
A second example I have, which most people probably wouldn't class as bullying until they have it pointed out to them, is at work. I have a job in the school my Sixth Form is situated at. I'm a prefect, which means I control access to the building at lunchtime and have to direct people to other places, meaning they may have to go 'the long way around' to get to the place they want. Now, I've been given my instructions not to allow anyone, under any circumstances through the door that I patrol. Obviously, the students don't agree with this. I don't even agree with it! I think it's a stupid rule! But I have to stand by it, or I'll get sacked and, right now, I need the money (did I mention the Uni thing?). Now, I'll give you an example of what I have to put up with:
Student: *pulls door, realises it's shut, knocks on door* I have a detention.
Me: *shakes head and points in general direction of the door they are supposed to use*
(80% of students leave at this point)
Student: *yells* I have a detention! That door's locked as well!
Me: *shakes head again, seeing the door being used, points towards door again*
(98% of students leave by this point)
Student: *yells louder* I HAVE A DETENTION! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU FAT SLAG!
Me: *opens door* You're not allowed in through this door, you have to use that door and go up the stairs, past the library and down again to get into this corridor. Sorry.
Student: *yells in my face* But I have a detentions and I'm gonna be late! And I'm gonna blame you for making me late!
Me: If you follow my instructions, you'll be where you need to be for your detention in less than 5 minutes.
Student: But it's just there! Oi, brav, move!
Me: Sorry, you can't come through this way. *tries to shut the door*
Student: *holds door open, pulling roughly* Oi! If you were a student and not in the Sixth Form you wouldn't follow this dumb rule, would you?!
Me: Yes, unfortunately I'd have to because it's what's been set in place, if you don't like it, talk to the Deputy Head and have it changed. *shuts the door*
Student: *yells abusive comments and makes abusive gestures before leaving to follow my original instructions, then glares at me or yells abuse at me every time they see me from this point onwards*
All the while this is going on, she has a friend backing her up, swearing etc. and there is a member of staff about 10ft away. Now, I'm not questioning the workings of my school, but I am questioning how they can listen to these students yelling such profanity at me and my friends/colleagues and just... stand there. Don't even attempt to step in and help out. What? Really? And the students - I understand the anger, spur of the moment, you're going to be a little abusive if you're not getting your own way, but days, weeks, months afterwards, you're still holding that grudge? Because of what I do for my job? And you make me feel uncomfortable and upset because I'm following orders from my boss? Yes, it is bullying, guys. Anything that makes someone else feel bad is bullying. Perhaps you should think before you open your mouth next time.
Well, anyway, I'm quitting the job soon because I've recently snapped up a new, part-time job at Debenhams. :) I get a training session this Friday, and start my first shift on Saturday. I'm looking forward to it, but nervous that I'll do something wrong. Here's to hoping I can finally leave the bullying behind, once and for all! Because if I ever come across bullying in the work place... well... I will be... angry. I will be the one yelling abuse.
As previously stated, I've had a lot of experience in the area of bullying. I moved school, suddenly, during the Christmas break after several years of bullying from one boy - let's call him Joe. Now, Joe was in my year, the same age, the same build, etc. but, for some reason, of which I can't seem to recall, Joe decided to pick on me. He called me names and he would purposely upset me during lunch and break times. I know these things happened, because I used to run home crying to my mum about it every single day, but this being one of the harshest aspects of my childhood, my fragile mind seems to have repressed these awful memories and I can't remember that time at all. Anyway, this has made it difficult for me because I was uprooted and placed in a new school so quickly - everyone already had their friends and I was an outcast - so I've always had difficulty making new friends. I can't explain it very well... but that one bully effected me until this day. Now I'm 18, with the prospects of moving up North to go to University at the end of the year, and my biggest worry is whether I'll cope with finding new friends.
A second example I have, which most people probably wouldn't class as bullying until they have it pointed out to them, is at work. I have a job in the school my Sixth Form is situated at. I'm a prefect, which means I control access to the building at lunchtime and have to direct people to other places, meaning they may have to go 'the long way around' to get to the place they want. Now, I've been given my instructions not to allow anyone, under any circumstances through the door that I patrol. Obviously, the students don't agree with this. I don't even agree with it! I think it's a stupid rule! But I have to stand by it, or I'll get sacked and, right now, I need the money (did I mention the Uni thing?). Now, I'll give you an example of what I have to put up with:
Student: *pulls door, realises it's shut, knocks on door* I have a detention.
Me: *shakes head and points in general direction of the door they are supposed to use*
(80% of students leave at this point)
Student: *yells* I have a detention! That door's locked as well!
Me: *shakes head again, seeing the door being used, points towards door again*
(98% of students leave by this point)
Student: *yells louder* I HAVE A DETENTION! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU FAT SLAG!
Me: *opens door* You're not allowed in through this door, you have to use that door and go up the stairs, past the library and down again to get into this corridor. Sorry.
Student: *yells in my face* But I have a detentions and I'm gonna be late! And I'm gonna blame you for making me late!
Me: If you follow my instructions, you'll be where you need to be for your detention in less than 5 minutes.
Student: But it's just there! Oi, brav, move!
Me: Sorry, you can't come through this way. *tries to shut the door*
Student: *holds door open, pulling roughly* Oi! If you were a student and not in the Sixth Form you wouldn't follow this dumb rule, would you?!
Me: Yes, unfortunately I'd have to because it's what's been set in place, if you don't like it, talk to the Deputy Head and have it changed. *shuts the door*
Student: *yells abusive comments and makes abusive gestures before leaving to follow my original instructions, then glares at me or yells abuse at me every time they see me from this point onwards*
All the while this is going on, she has a friend backing her up, swearing etc. and there is a member of staff about 10ft away. Now, I'm not questioning the workings of my school, but I am questioning how they can listen to these students yelling such profanity at me and my friends/colleagues and just... stand there. Don't even attempt to step in and help out. What? Really? And the students - I understand the anger, spur of the moment, you're going to be a little abusive if you're not getting your own way, but days, weeks, months afterwards, you're still holding that grudge? Because of what I do for my job? And you make me feel uncomfortable and upset because I'm following orders from my boss? Yes, it is bullying, guys. Anything that makes someone else feel bad is bullying. Perhaps you should think before you open your mouth next time.
Well, anyway, I'm quitting the job soon because I've recently snapped up a new, part-time job at Debenhams. :) I get a training session this Friday, and start my first shift on Saturday. I'm looking forward to it, but nervous that I'll do something wrong. Here's to hoping I can finally leave the bullying behind, once and for all! Because if I ever come across bullying in the work place... well... I will be... angry. I will be the one yelling abuse.
Sunday, 25 March 2012
Boys & Girls Come Out To Play...
An abandoned high street in the centre of what was once a thriving city: London. The ground was covered in trash and broken glass where there wasn’t a burned out fire or a toppled over car.
Little Timmy ran out from a back ally, clutching some scrolls of paper to his chest. Every breath was an enormous effort as he wheezed violently, his asthma becoming his biggest threat, growing more and more deadly to him. He looked from left to right and back again, in wonder of which way to go. Stupidly, he looked back at the group of zombie adults rapidly approaching him, only one thing on their mind.
“Foooood,” groaned the leader of this group, the fattest woman. She hobbled along in a torn summer dress, with rusty red hair and blackened eyes, which he imagined could once have been beautiful crimson locks and pretty emerald green gemstones. But the disease had spread through her blood, and she was too far-gone to save. But he knew there was a cure for the newly turned adults, and he had to find someone to help him to create it.
“Back off!” he yelled as loudly as he could (but he wasn’t called Timid Timothy for nothing), before deciding going left would be best.
He ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. Being only 8 years of age and 4ft 2 in stature, this wasn’t very fast at all. But faster than the grown ups was fast enough. They were tall, but brainless, and didn’t have the energy to sprint in their dying bodies.
He ran until he could no longer hear the famished groans of the adults, ending up in a cold, dark room, collapsing to his knees in exhaustion. He took long, staggered breaths, closing his eyes and revitalising himself.
Becca froze as she stared intensely at the boy, her arms up as a barrier to protect the identical infant boys behind her: Jack and Blair, her four-year-old, mute twin brothers. She saw he was small and couldn’t be infected, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t attack. She’d experienced an older girl whom she had befriended, Jill, trying to convince her to sacrifice Blair as nourishment for her, Becca and the healthier twin, Jack. She had lost all trust in anyone since that day.
Timmy opened his eyes and saw the muddy, black dolly shoes belonging to Becca. He dragged his eyes upwards to meet hers, terrified.
“What’s yer game?” she muttered viciously, feeling less weary and taking a step towards him.
“I-I’m looking, I’m-” he stammered timidly. His voice sounded croaky, as he hadn’t spoken to an actual person for countless hours, days, weeks. And this older girl, of about 11 or 12, looked absolutely terrifying.
“Don’t be thinkin’ you can jus’ swan in here like nobody’s business,” she spat.
“I just needed t-to,” he paused to take a breath, and swallow the anxiety. “The adults were following me. I needed to hide somewhere. Please.” He looked from one twin to the other, then back to Becca. “I’m Timmy.”
A cautious Becca examined the boy. “Becca.” She couldn’t take any risks. “And these are my brother’s, Jack and Blair. They don’t talk no more.” She promised her mother she’d look after her brothers, before watching her commit suicide before the disease took her over: with a gun to the head, a click and a BANG.
She gasped, reliving the moment.
“So real,” she murmured to herself, then looked to Timmy. “You can stay with us. But I’ll kill ya if you hurt my brothers, yer hear?”
Timmy nodded and pushed up off the ground, pointlessly dusting off the new dirt on top of the old. He forced a smile as thanks, then picked up his scrolls of paper.
“So, whatchu got there?” Becca questioned casually.
Timmy’s eyes lit up. This was it. Becca could help him create the cure to save the adults! To take the world back to what it was!
“I found them,” he mumbled, unrolling one of his father’s tatty scrolls.
“Yes!” Becca yelled cheerfully, after looking over each scroll and having Timmy explain what he knew. “We can do this, Timmy! We can save the world!”
She had a huge grin on her face as she pulled Timmy in for a warm embrace, and gleeful tears trickled down her mucky cheeks. This was the big break she’d been waiting for. Timmy was her saviour in filthy green Wellington boots.
“We’ve gotta find this stuff,” she thought aloud. She let go of Timmy and headed for the door.
“Wait! The adults are out there!” he yelled.
“So what? I can out run them any day,” she gloated.
“Can’t we go together? It’ll be safer for everyone.”
“But I don’t want to put the twins in danger, mum said-”
“They won’t be in danger, we’ll protect them!”
Becca thought it through. He was right, four of them would be safer in the long run. She sighed.
“Lets go then,” she grumbled. “Before I change my mind.”
Becca carried Blair as she walked nervously down the centre of Baker Street. Timmy followed close behind, holding Jack’s hand. They all halted at the sound of a distant tick tick, tick tick, tick tick.
“What’s that?” gasped Becca. He cuddled a whimpering Blair and glanced back at Timmy.
He swallowed and shrugged, looking back at her cluelessly.
All four of them had heard the sound before. And it was coming closer. A propeller. Like…
“A hellocopper!” yelled Blair, pointing up at the sky.
“Oh my God, Blair!” she laughed and looked to where he was pointing. “It is! It’s a helicopter! There must be healthy adults!”
The helicopter landed and two men, dressed in cream, leathery looking spacesuits, climbed out. They pointed at the scrolls, obviously holding knowledge of Timmy’s father’s work on the cure. Timmy handed them over in exchange for transportation to safety for him and his new friends. It was agreed.
Timmy hugged the spaceman’s waist, joyful tears pouring down his face as he realised his horrific journey was over. “Thank you, sir. You truly are a hero.”
Little Timmy ran out from a back ally, clutching some scrolls of paper to his chest. Every breath was an enormous effort as he wheezed violently, his asthma becoming his biggest threat, growing more and more deadly to him. He looked from left to right and back again, in wonder of which way to go. Stupidly, he looked back at the group of zombie adults rapidly approaching him, only one thing on their mind.
“Foooood,” groaned the leader of this group, the fattest woman. She hobbled along in a torn summer dress, with rusty red hair and blackened eyes, which he imagined could once have been beautiful crimson locks and pretty emerald green gemstones. But the disease had spread through her blood, and she was too far-gone to save. But he knew there was a cure for the newly turned adults, and he had to find someone to help him to create it.
“Back off!” he yelled as loudly as he could (but he wasn’t called Timid Timothy for nothing), before deciding going left would be best.
He ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. Being only 8 years of age and 4ft 2 in stature, this wasn’t very fast at all. But faster than the grown ups was fast enough. They were tall, but brainless, and didn’t have the energy to sprint in their dying bodies.
He ran until he could no longer hear the famished groans of the adults, ending up in a cold, dark room, collapsing to his knees in exhaustion. He took long, staggered breaths, closing his eyes and revitalising himself.
Becca froze as she stared intensely at the boy, her arms up as a barrier to protect the identical infant boys behind her: Jack and Blair, her four-year-old, mute twin brothers. She saw he was small and couldn’t be infected, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t attack. She’d experienced an older girl whom she had befriended, Jill, trying to convince her to sacrifice Blair as nourishment for her, Becca and the healthier twin, Jack. She had lost all trust in anyone since that day.
Timmy opened his eyes and saw the muddy, black dolly shoes belonging to Becca. He dragged his eyes upwards to meet hers, terrified.
“What’s yer game?” she muttered viciously, feeling less weary and taking a step towards him.
“I-I’m looking, I’m-” he stammered timidly. His voice sounded croaky, as he hadn’t spoken to an actual person for countless hours, days, weeks. And this older girl, of about 11 or 12, looked absolutely terrifying.
“Don’t be thinkin’ you can jus’ swan in here like nobody’s business,” she spat.
“I just needed t-to,” he paused to take a breath, and swallow the anxiety. “The adults were following me. I needed to hide somewhere. Please.” He looked from one twin to the other, then back to Becca. “I’m Timmy.”
A cautious Becca examined the boy. “Becca.” She couldn’t take any risks. “And these are my brother’s, Jack and Blair. They don’t talk no more.” She promised her mother she’d look after her brothers, before watching her commit suicide before the disease took her over: with a gun to the head, a click and a BANG.
She gasped, reliving the moment.
“So real,” she murmured to herself, then looked to Timmy. “You can stay with us. But I’ll kill ya if you hurt my brothers, yer hear?”
Timmy nodded and pushed up off the ground, pointlessly dusting off the new dirt on top of the old. He forced a smile as thanks, then picked up his scrolls of paper.
“So, whatchu got there?” Becca questioned casually.
Timmy’s eyes lit up. This was it. Becca could help him create the cure to save the adults! To take the world back to what it was!
“I found them,” he mumbled, unrolling one of his father’s tatty scrolls.
“Yes!” Becca yelled cheerfully, after looking over each scroll and having Timmy explain what he knew. “We can do this, Timmy! We can save the world!”
She had a huge grin on her face as she pulled Timmy in for a warm embrace, and gleeful tears trickled down her mucky cheeks. This was the big break she’d been waiting for. Timmy was her saviour in filthy green Wellington boots.
“We’ve gotta find this stuff,” she thought aloud. She let go of Timmy and headed for the door.
“Wait! The adults are out there!” he yelled.
“So what? I can out run them any day,” she gloated.
“Can’t we go together? It’ll be safer for everyone.”
“But I don’t want to put the twins in danger, mum said-”
“They won’t be in danger, we’ll protect them!”
Becca thought it through. He was right, four of them would be safer in the long run. She sighed.
“Lets go then,” she grumbled. “Before I change my mind.”
Becca carried Blair as she walked nervously down the centre of Baker Street. Timmy followed close behind, holding Jack’s hand. They all halted at the sound of a distant tick tick, tick tick, tick tick.
“What’s that?” gasped Becca. He cuddled a whimpering Blair and glanced back at Timmy.
He swallowed and shrugged, looking back at her cluelessly.
All four of them had heard the sound before. And it was coming closer. A propeller. Like…
“A hellocopper!” yelled Blair, pointing up at the sky.
“Oh my God, Blair!” she laughed and looked to where he was pointing. “It is! It’s a helicopter! There must be healthy adults!”
The helicopter landed and two men, dressed in cream, leathery looking spacesuits, climbed out. They pointed at the scrolls, obviously holding knowledge of Timmy’s father’s work on the cure. Timmy handed them over in exchange for transportation to safety for him and his new friends. It was agreed.
Timmy hugged the spaceman’s waist, joyful tears pouring down his face as he realised his horrific journey was over. “Thank you, sir. You truly are a hero.”
Amy's mistake.
Evening was looming. A brisk wind shaped troubled waves, crashing orange and pink highlights against the shore of Turkish beaches. Dallas leant back against the railings which separated the soft, white sand and the stone footpath. He sucked heavily on a cigarette, drawing soothing smoke into his lungs, then exhaled slowly. Anxiety moulded thick lines into his forehead, as he waited for Amy to return. She wouldn’t betray me, he convinced himself. She said she loves me.
***
“I love you, Dally, I swear I do,” Amy lied, caressing the side of Dallas’ face, her fingers trembling with untold fear. “Just let me go and see him. Explain to him.” Sluggish black trails of tears spoilt the beauty of her baby face. “I’ll come back, and we can leave. And we’ll never look back.”
Dallas stared longingly and her perfectly pink lips. He listened to her soft voice, believing every word that left those oh-so-perfect lips. He nodded.
“One hour, baby,” he whispered, his Irish roots stifling his pronunciation. “If you’re not back in one hour, I’ll come and find you. And kill every bastard that gets in my way.” His face didn’t change. Amy knew too well that his violent words weren't just threats - he was serious.
***
Dallas flicked away the butt of his cigarette, before checking his phone for the time. Thirty two minutes. Thirty two minutes until he would go on a vicious rampage.
Slow footsteps approached. Dallas lifted his head to meet the eyes of a familiar man approaching. Shayne, Amy’s father. He pushed up off the wall and readied himself for a battle.
But Shayne walked past him and leant against the railings beside him, sparking up a cigarette.
“Alright?” Shayne said, an awkward smile probing the corners of his lips.
Dallas leant back again, looking him over apprehensively. Something wasn’t right. He brushed it off.
“Aye, I’m good,” he muttered back, taking a drag on Shayne’s cigarette when he’s offered it.
“Nothing on your mind then?” Shayne asked eagerly, taking it back.
“Why’d you ask?” Dallas countered defensively. No, something definitely wasn't right. His hand slipped into his pocket, forming a fist around a cold, metal handle.
Shayne’s eyes were drawn to his pocket, alarm spreading over his face.
“No reason, man,” he replied softly, tensing up and taking a step back.
“She fucking lied to me.”
“Who? Dallas, I have no idea-“
“You’re just as fucking bad!” yelled Dallas, closing in on Shayne. He drew the knife from his pocket.
Shayne knew he was in trouble. He backed off, hands up in defence. But Dallas was adamant and riled up, and had already decided he had nothing to lose.
***
Moonlight crept over the shadows of night time. Blue flashing lights spoilt the natural beauty of those Turkish beaches. Unconscious and pale, Shayne lay lifeless on a stretcher as a paramedic slammed the doors shut.
A small, blonde woman picked up a blood stained shirt, ripped from of Shayne's body and left as a lonely memory of that night’s events. She lifted her head and watched after the ambulance. Oh, Sophia. Poor little Sophia. She’d still love Dallas, no matter what he’d done.
***
“I love you, Dally, I swear I do,” Amy lied, caressing the side of Dallas’ face, her fingers trembling with untold fear. “Just let me go and see him. Explain to him.” Sluggish black trails of tears spoilt the beauty of her baby face. “I’ll come back, and we can leave. And we’ll never look back.”
Dallas stared longingly and her perfectly pink lips. He listened to her soft voice, believing every word that left those oh-so-perfect lips. He nodded.
“One hour, baby,” he whispered, his Irish roots stifling his pronunciation. “If you’re not back in one hour, I’ll come and find you. And kill every bastard that gets in my way.” His face didn’t change. Amy knew too well that his violent words weren't just threats - he was serious.
***
Dallas flicked away the butt of his cigarette, before checking his phone for the time. Thirty two minutes. Thirty two minutes until he would go on a vicious rampage.
Slow footsteps approached. Dallas lifted his head to meet the eyes of a familiar man approaching. Shayne, Amy’s father. He pushed up off the wall and readied himself for a battle.
But Shayne walked past him and leant against the railings beside him, sparking up a cigarette.
“Alright?” Shayne said, an awkward smile probing the corners of his lips.
Dallas leant back again, looking him over apprehensively. Something wasn’t right. He brushed it off.
“Aye, I’m good,” he muttered back, taking a drag on Shayne’s cigarette when he’s offered it.
“Nothing on your mind then?” Shayne asked eagerly, taking it back.
“Why’d you ask?” Dallas countered defensively. No, something definitely wasn't right. His hand slipped into his pocket, forming a fist around a cold, metal handle.
Shayne’s eyes were drawn to his pocket, alarm spreading over his face.
“No reason, man,” he replied softly, tensing up and taking a step back.
“She fucking lied to me.”
“Who? Dallas, I have no idea-“
“You’re just as fucking bad!” yelled Dallas, closing in on Shayne. He drew the knife from his pocket.
Shayne knew he was in trouble. He backed off, hands up in defence. But Dallas was adamant and riled up, and had already decided he had nothing to lose.
***
Moonlight crept over the shadows of night time. Blue flashing lights spoilt the natural beauty of those Turkish beaches. Unconscious and pale, Shayne lay lifeless on a stretcher as a paramedic slammed the doors shut.
A small, blonde woman picked up a blood stained shirt, ripped from of Shayne's body and left as a lonely memory of that night’s events. She lifted her head and watched after the ambulance. Oh, Sophia. Poor little Sophia. She’d still love Dallas, no matter what he’d done.
(Not So) Wild Weekend *thumbs up*
Well, hey, guys. Fancy seeing you here.
It has beena while some time far too long. And I've no excuse for not posting, other than not having much to post about. Life has been pretty hollow for some time now. Even Christmas pretty much sucked... but hey, I only have one follower, and she probably doesn't even look here any more than I do, so fuck it.
Anyhow, why I'm back, you ask~? My aunt Sanchia came to stay the weekend! It was a right laugh. And, although I didn't get any pictures, it'll be one to remember once again. :)
Friday
I woke up and, as ever, I was absolutely shattered from being up late doing my homework the night before. I didn't want to go to school at all, but I had no choice in the matter what-so-ever - I'm in upper sixth, you see, and I have my final exams starting the beginning of June, so missing school at such a crucial time would be, frankly, stupid. I sat through 3 and a half hours of Issues & Debates of Psychology, although how research methods come under the Issues & Debates section, I still do not know. Then, because I had free periods that afternoon, after my lunch duty I decided to stay in school to finish my coursework. I sat out in the courtyard, soaking up the sun for an hour and filling out yet more psychology worksheets, before heading inside and finishing up my English coursework - "Transracial Adoption - Is it ethical?" I'll post that at the end of August, as soon as it's been marked: might give my blog some more interesting material. Anyway, I digress! I spent those few hours doing a minuscule amount of work before tottering home, sweltering in the sun on the hottest day of the year, to date, this year (as far as I'm aware).
When I did eventually get home, I remembered. A few days prior, just before Mothering Sunday, my aunt had mentioned she would be coming to stay. Me and my aunt are kinda close, and when I do eventually go to university (which I hope will be at the end of this year! *fingers crossed*), I'll be staying with her. So, as you can imagine, I was ecstatic. When my aunt comes to stay, we always have a laugh, a few drinks and a damn good night. I spent the rest of my day readying myself for that night...
It came to about 6pm, and my plans fell short. I was absolutely shattered. I mean, fuck, I could have slept like a log for 15 hours straight (like I did 2 weeks ago, teehee). I didn't feel like partying. I didn't feel like drinking. I didn't even feel up to having a girly chat. Shit.
My aunt arrived at just gone 9pm after a 4 hour drive from Northern England to London. Ouch. A few awkward hellos (it always is when someone arrives) and hugs and laughs later, Sash piped up that we'd be going to the cinema. You can imagine my relief! I wouldn't have to put on a front, I could just chill in the cinema, perhaps have a snooze in the middle. But then...
"The Devil Inside," she said. "It's Friday fright night! Muhahaha!"
Oh, balls.
So, no snooze halfway through. Buuuuuut...
Well, if you haven't seen the film. *awks* I would not recommend it. Shittest. Thriller. Ever. Really. I mean, I'm easily one of the jumpiest people you'll get in an age 12 certificated film, and this... well. I've no idea who even approved the film to be put on the big screen, let alone rate it a 15. Urgh. But again, I digress. I did snooze in the cinema (that lame), and felt kinda rejuvenated, ready for a fun filled night! Ended up being pretty shit in the end, but mum, auntie Sash and I had a chat and, eventually, I went to bed.
DAY 1: SUCCESSFUL.
Saturday
Jesus, it was hot! And, as soon as we woke up, Richard (my sister's boyfriend) suggested a BBQ.
...
Well, we decided to go shopping. Mum, Sash, Caitlyn and I. Sash has forgot to pack half her clothes, so she needed something new to wear. It was a tedious task, personally, but we eventually got everything we wanted. Kinda hilarious when Sash stripped in the middle of the shop to try on a top! Hah! If I'd had some cash, I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more. But nope, I splashed out on a new phone in January (my pretty Blackberry, Barney, mwah) and I'm still paying off the loan. Only... £60 to go? Yay.
After shopping, we came home and... PARTY TIME! The BBQ was lit. Or four BBQs, I should say. Last year, we got about 15 disposable BBQs, all 3 pence each. Bargain! I was wearing a pair of jeans, a grey long top and trainers. Everyone else was in their Summer gear. *sigh* I thought I best make the effort, and disappeared upstairs for half hour... I resurfaced, tidy, trim and as tasteful as I'll ever be, only to find the rest of the blasted lot had pulled on jumpers and coats, and the sun had sheepishly hidden behind a grey blanket. For fuck sake.
"5 stars for effort," Richard remarked.
"You scrub up well!" Sash said.
Well, I sat for about 10 minutes before my body decided it wasn't summer yet, then ran for the cover of my new snoopy hooded jumper. We nommed some BBQ food - sausages, burgers, chicken drumsticks (ew, not me, I do not eat chicken from a bone, breasts over legs any day, hah!), coleslaw, salad... then I got my drink on, and so did everyone else. Me, Sash and Caitlyn ended up mentally dancing on a mattress in the garden (do not question) to David Guetta and Justin Timberlake. What a laugh! I pulled something in my elbow, and it still hurts.
Later, Sashy, Lari and mummy watched Twilight: Breaking Dawn! I'm a fan of the Twilight Saga, 100%, and mostly because of Taylor Lautner. Oh em gee, isn't he gorge? And, no, before you ask, I've yet to read all the books - I read the first, but it was poorly written, so I decided to follow the story on the films instead; perhaps it'll be more entertaining.
*Taylor/Jacob enters*
"Corrrrrrrrrrrr!" Sash said.
"Corrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" mum repeated.
"Corrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I spasmed.
He's totally beauts. Cor, blimey. I mean, Bella, really? Edward's cute, but Jacob, he's, he's-... you lost out, girl.
Anyway! We watched the film. It was great.And holy shit, I've just realised how light it is outside and it's ten to seven (clocks went forwards last night, officially summer, woohoo!). Then we stayed up talking about my grandmother, God rest her soul, who passed away when I was about 4, I believe? I've only one memory of her. A good one. Just sitting on her lap.
"I'm glad," my mother stated. "It's just, something happened and she was really upset by it, and you saw something she didn't want you to, and I don't want you to remember that. Otherwise you'll make it up in your head." Well, she's already told me the memory, but whatever. It doesn't bother me. And I won't put it out online, because it's personal, but I just thought I'd say.
I went to be about 2:30am, after another brilliant day.
DAY 2: SUCCESSFUL.
Sunday
That's today.
It started off great! I woke up, fiddled with my Tamagotchis (lol @ my computer not recognising the word and suggesting monarchist) for an hour or so, then eventually got out of bed (which I dislike doing on Sundays, urgh). Headed downstairs and sat out in the morning sun for a while, before heading in.
"Cup o' tea?" I asked Sash.
"Mmm," she replied.
"What's up?"
"Migraine."
Oh, no...
I wandered off to make us some tea, then we sat in the garden for an hour.
Poor Sashy, she didn't feel well at all. :(
She slept it off for a bit, then, about 3 in the afternoon, woke up and chatted for a bit. But, she had to be going - it was Sunday, and cousin Ethan was home from his camping trip, and cousin Toby would be home later from staying at his dad's. After some tea, toast and a shower, and feeling a little better, Sash decided it was time to be getting on.
And so she did.
And that was that.
:(
DAY 3: FAIL.
I know, it doesn't sound to entertaining for you guys, and you probably feel like you've just wasted your time reading this, but she's my aunt, my closest relative other than my own family, i.e. mum, dad, sisters and, I suppose, brother. I'll miss her! </3
However, if all goes to plan, as I said, I'll be staying with her starting August/September whilst I attend university. I can't wait. It's gonna be great, hah! :) For anyone who is interested, I'll be studying Psychology, hopefully at UCLan. I've had an acceptance letter, so now I just have to get the grades. Anyhow, that's my wild weekend. And now it's over, I have to get on with my homework. Hopefully, I'll post next week, and it'll be a more interesting topic than this.
But hey.
I'm still learning.
Blogging isn't really my thing.
I'm sure I'll get better at it... sooner or later.
Ttfn, my lovelies. Until next year...
JK. :D Lari x
It has been
Anyhow, why I'm back, you ask~? My aunt Sanchia came to stay the weekend! It was a right laugh. And, although I didn't get any pictures, it'll be one to remember once again. :)
Friday
I woke up and, as ever, I was absolutely shattered from being up late doing my homework the night before. I didn't want to go to school at all, but I had no choice in the matter what-so-ever - I'm in upper sixth, you see, and I have my final exams starting the beginning of June, so missing school at such a crucial time would be, frankly, stupid. I sat through 3 and a half hours of Issues & Debates of Psychology, although how research methods come under the Issues & Debates section, I still do not know. Then, because I had free periods that afternoon, after my lunch duty I decided to stay in school to finish my coursework. I sat out in the courtyard, soaking up the sun for an hour and filling out yet more psychology worksheets, before heading inside and finishing up my English coursework - "Transracial Adoption - Is it ethical?" I'll post that at the end of August, as soon as it's been marked: might give my blog some more interesting material. Anyway, I digress! I spent those few hours doing a minuscule amount of work before tottering home, sweltering in the sun on the hottest day of the year, to date, this year (as far as I'm aware).
When I did eventually get home, I remembered. A few days prior, just before Mothering Sunday, my aunt had mentioned she would be coming to stay. Me and my aunt are kinda close, and when I do eventually go to university (which I hope will be at the end of this year! *fingers crossed*), I'll be staying with her. So, as you can imagine, I was ecstatic. When my aunt comes to stay, we always have a laugh, a few drinks and a damn good night. I spent the rest of my day readying myself for that night...
It came to about 6pm, and my plans fell short. I was absolutely shattered. I mean, fuck, I could have slept like a log for 15 hours straight (like I did 2 weeks ago, teehee). I didn't feel like partying. I didn't feel like drinking. I didn't even feel up to having a girly chat. Shit.
My aunt arrived at just gone 9pm after a 4 hour drive from Northern England to London. Ouch. A few awkward hellos (it always is when someone arrives) and hugs and laughs later, Sash piped up that we'd be going to the cinema. You can imagine my relief! I wouldn't have to put on a front, I could just chill in the cinema, perhaps have a snooze in the middle. But then...
"The Devil Inside," she said. "It's Friday fright night! Muhahaha!"
Oh, balls.
So, no snooze halfway through. Buuuuuut...
Well, if you haven't seen the film. *awks* I would not recommend it. Shittest. Thriller. Ever. Really. I mean, I'm easily one of the jumpiest people you'll get in an age 12 certificated film, and this... well. I've no idea who even approved the film to be put on the big screen, let alone rate it a 15. Urgh. But again, I digress. I did snooze in the cinema (that lame), and felt kinda rejuvenated, ready for a fun filled night! Ended up being pretty shit in the end, but mum, auntie Sash and I had a chat and, eventually, I went to bed.
DAY 1: SUCCESSFUL.
Saturday
Jesus, it was hot! And, as soon as we woke up, Richard (my sister's boyfriend) suggested a BBQ.
...
Well, we decided to go shopping. Mum, Sash, Caitlyn and I. Sash has forgot to pack half her clothes, so she needed something new to wear. It was a tedious task, personally, but we eventually got everything we wanted. Kinda hilarious when Sash stripped in the middle of the shop to try on a top! Hah! If I'd had some cash, I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more. But nope, I splashed out on a new phone in January (my pretty Blackberry, Barney, mwah) and I'm still paying off the loan. Only... £60 to go? Yay.
After shopping, we came home and... PARTY TIME! The BBQ was lit. Or four BBQs, I should say. Last year, we got about 15 disposable BBQs, all 3 pence each. Bargain! I was wearing a pair of jeans, a grey long top and trainers. Everyone else was in their Summer gear. *sigh* I thought I best make the effort, and disappeared upstairs for half hour... I resurfaced, tidy, trim and as tasteful as I'll ever be, only to find the rest of the blasted lot had pulled on jumpers and coats, and the sun had sheepishly hidden behind a grey blanket. For fuck sake.
"5 stars for effort," Richard remarked.
"You scrub up well!" Sash said.
Well, I sat for about 10 minutes before my body decided it wasn't summer yet, then ran for the cover of my new snoopy hooded jumper. We nommed some BBQ food - sausages, burgers, chicken drumsticks (ew, not me, I do not eat chicken from a bone, breasts over legs any day, hah!), coleslaw, salad... then I got my drink on, and so did everyone else. Me, Sash and Caitlyn ended up mentally dancing on a mattress in the garden (do not question) to David Guetta and Justin Timberlake. What a laugh! I pulled something in my elbow, and it still hurts.
Later, Sashy, Lari and mummy watched Twilight: Breaking Dawn! I'm a fan of the Twilight Saga, 100%, and mostly because of Taylor Lautner. Oh em gee, isn't he gorge? And, no, before you ask, I've yet to read all the books - I read the first, but it was poorly written, so I decided to follow the story on the films instead; perhaps it'll be more entertaining.
*Taylor/Jacob enters*
"Corrrrrrrrrrrr!" Sash said.
"Corrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" mum repeated.
"Corrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I spasmed.
He's totally beauts. Cor, blimey. I mean, Bella, really? Edward's cute, but Jacob, he's, he's-... you lost out, girl.
Anyway! We watched the film. It was great.
"I'm glad," my mother stated. "It's just, something happened and she was really upset by it, and you saw something she didn't want you to, and I don't want you to remember that. Otherwise you'll make it up in your head." Well, she's already told me the memory, but whatever. It doesn't bother me. And I won't put it out online, because it's personal, but I just thought I'd say.
I went to be about 2:30am, after another brilliant day.
DAY 2: SUCCESSFUL.
Sunday
That's today.
It started off great! I woke up, fiddled with my Tamagotchis (lol @ my computer not recognising the word and suggesting monarchist) for an hour or so, then eventually got out of bed (which I dislike doing on Sundays, urgh). Headed downstairs and sat out in the morning sun for a while, before heading in.
"Cup o' tea?" I asked Sash.
"Mmm," she replied.
"What's up?"
"Migraine."
Oh, no...
I wandered off to make us some tea, then we sat in the garden for an hour.
Poor Sashy, she didn't feel well at all. :(
She slept it off for a bit, then, about 3 in the afternoon, woke up and chatted for a bit. But, she had to be going - it was Sunday, and cousin Ethan was home from his camping trip, and cousin Toby would be home later from staying at his dad's. After some tea, toast and a shower, and feeling a little better, Sash decided it was time to be getting on.
And so she did.
And that was that.
:(
DAY 3: FAIL.
I know, it doesn't sound to entertaining for you guys, and you probably feel like you've just wasted your time reading this, but she's my aunt, my closest relative other than my own family, i.e. mum, dad, sisters and, I suppose, brother. I'll miss her! </3
However, if all goes to plan, as I said, I'll be staying with her starting August/September whilst I attend university. I can't wait. It's gonna be great, hah! :) For anyone who is interested, I'll be studying Psychology, hopefully at UCLan. I've had an acceptance letter, so now I just have to get the grades. Anyhow, that's my wild weekend. And now it's over, I have to get on with my homework. Hopefully, I'll post next week, and it'll be a more interesting topic than this.
But hey.
I'm still learning.
Blogging isn't really my thing.
I'm sure I'll get better at it... sooner or later.
Ttfn, my lovelies. Until next year...
JK. :D Lari x
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
No Doctor?
Doctor Who recently came to our screens, featuring the fabulous Matt Smith in an unusual half series. Might I say, I think it was a bloody marvelous half, and I think Steven Moffat outdid himself with the striking story line.
The last episode, 'A good man goes to war,' left fans teased and unsatisfied, and hungry for the second half of the series, which will be broadcasted by the BBC later this year, September 2011. I, for one, can't wait to see it; mostly because I want to know more about the Silence... but I will be recording the whole series and re-watching. Why? Well, you may or may not have already heard... but apart from the specials, next year, 2012, is going to be Doctorless. *insert amazed gasps and distraught sighs here* I know, heart-breaking, isn't it? Anyway, Danny Cohen spoke at the Church and Media conference today, and said "The tricky thing to explain to your kids - who I'm very glad are fans of it - is that the same man who writes Doctor Who also writes Sherlock, and there's only so many hours a day he can be awake. We're very keen that Sherlock comes back too, and it will be back as another three parts next year, so he needs enough time to get that done and then start work on the next series of Doctor Who. There will be some episodes but there won't be a full series, so we won't have a thirteen part run ... but you know the man has to sleep, he's got a family! That's the genuine reason, it's about Steven Moffat - who's the creative drive force behind Doctor Who at the moment and he also rather magically at the same time created and got to air Sherlock - we have to get that balance right. There will be episodes, but there won't be as many, and there'll be more episodes again in 2013 - which I think is the 50th Anniversary of Doctor Who, so that's a big year. It's a very special programme, it's one of the programmes that we feel is so special that we plan for on Christmas Day." So, I guess that's understandable, right?
If you're still thinking, "HELL NO! I LIVE FOR DOCTOR WHO! I CAN'T WAIT A WHOLE YEAR!" Well, you're not alone... all Doctor lover's are incredibly pissed off to put it frank. But there's not much we can do about it really.
So, if you really can't go too long without a fix of the Doctor, you might want to set Doctor Who to series record, and re-watch... until you know every last damn line there is to learn. 'Doctor to Danny boy, Doctor to Danny boy, give them hell, Danny boy!'
Saturday, 6 November 2010
My bitches :]
 |
| Teh lufferly bitches. ♥ |
It started with my brother. My brother whom, no matter what my parents say to him... never listens. Like, ever. It's an admirable trait to have, yes, but can also get the idiot into a lot of bloody trouble; sometimes. Anywho, one colds day around... 3 years ago, at a guess, my dear brother stumbles in with a bundle in a blanket in his arms, takes a seat, and unwraps the smallest, cutest little pup I'd ever seen. The script went a little like this:
Me and Caitlyn; "Awwww!" *run over to see*
Me; "Who's is it?" *strokes* :3
Mitchell; *smugly* "It's ours."
Me; "Really? Mum and dad said we can keep it?!"
Mitchell; "Not yet. Her name is Princess."
Me; "Aw, so cute." :3
Mitchell; "My friend gave her to me. They were giving away their puppies."
Later on, mum came home and Mitchell attempted to convince her... firstly by shoving this adorable little mutt on her lap (right). Be honest now. You might be the most heartless bastard in the entire cosmos, but how the hell could you say that you'd allow putting this adorable little Princess out on the streets? Well, my mum ain't heartless. And, even though he seems it sometimes when he's an utter dickhead, neither is my dad. And I love them both very much. :] She sorta just... drifted in. Dad wasn't happy, and neither was mum, but mum adored Princess cause she was so adoringly adorable. And dad just got on with it cause that's the way it goes. xD
Mitchell used to take this pup everywhere with him. He loved her, she... well, she did once love her daddy very much so. She had an awesome few years as she grew up into a beautiful staffy... :3
 |
| Spring... |
 |
| ...Turned to Summer... |
 |
| ...Turned to Autumn... |
 |
| ...Turned to Winter. |
The weirdest thing about Princess' pregnancy is that when she was in her last 2 or 3 weeks, she wouldn't eat... unless fed from a fork. xD And then she ate more than when she usually did. And she's usually well fussy about her food as well. Strangest thing. And it seemed that her waters never broke... she just went into labour.
 |
| A literal day before she went into labour... |
But we exentually got a hold on Mitch, and he basically sprinted the whole way home. xD And we waited...
And waited...
And waited some more...
Mitch; "She better not have anything wrong with her or I'll kill Dodger (the dad) for getting her pregnant!"
Me; *massages her pelvis to help her relax*
Mitch; "What the fuck are you doing?"
Me; "It relaxes her and helps her push..."
[pop]
Me and Mitch; *watch a puddle form on the floor, get excited*
 |
| Princess after three pups... |
We all "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over the pups, cooing and shizz. Even dad turned around and said that he though the second pup born was quite cute actually. xD And that's something... cause you'd never catch dad using the word cute. He said it to mum and told him not to tell us, but she told us anyway. :P
Around 11pm, when everyone was settled and all the puppies were feeding... [pop]. Water and blood all over the living room. Gross. There was another pup coming... I legged it up the stairs to get the nail scissors and some towels, Mitchell scooped up the pup, and in minutes the pup was on a teet, suckling happy on milkies. :3
I remember having to save one once. It crawled out of the bed and under the sofa... all we could hear was this loud pitched squeaking. Me, being such an amazing detective, discovered the pup wasn't in the bed, but hidden somewhere... searched and eventually found her. Poor thing was squashed between the sofa and the magazine rack. :[
 |
| JackJack ♥ |
And then run...
And play...
And cause utter destruction.
And then they discovered the ouside world. Obvious, Sox the Brave went first. They were all shit scared at first, cause it was Spring, and the air was still pretty damn cold. They shivered and stood at the doorstep, looking out at the great world beyond. Then they took their first steps out the door, their first steps to partial freedom... and realised it was safe. And seemed to enjoy it. :D
 |
| Three... |
 |
| Two... |
 |
| One and a bit... xD |
So one by one, they left, until there was 2 left... Sox and mama's little Soldier. :D Soldier had a hernia, but was snatched up by someone who my brother knew cause he was male. The guy paid £50 for him... then paid out £300 for his operation to get his operation to remove the hernia. And you know what he said? He loved the dog so much already, he was willing to pay every last penny. How effin adorable is that?
She was the smartest of the lot as well. She was the one who first discovered how easy it is to get onto the sofa, how to get out of the pen, and how to destroy the whole living room.
A smart little devil. And a manipulative bitch. xD She has the puppy dog look all sorted, and she can sure as hell make you feel bad for telling her off. She does this snuggly thing and rolls onto her belly and wags her tail... it's adorable, and annoying. Absolutely impossible to stay angry at her for too long. ♥
Anyway, dad had once said we could not, no matter what the circumstances, keep ANY of the puppies. At all. Ever. So how the hell did we end up being able to keep Sox, you ask? Mitch let my uncle take one of the pups for free... in exchange for dad letting us keep Sox. :P Simplez.
And that, my lovelies, is how I have ended up with these two great lumps sleeping at the end of my bed each and every night.
And, to be completely honest..? As much as they keep me up half the night, stealing my cover, barking out the window, and chewing up my socks and shit... I wouldn't have it any other way... ♥
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| The freak with her tongue in my ear. xD ♥ |
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