current location: Library
My mood: accomplished
Gonna post this...
and see if anyone notices!
Gonna post this...
and see if anyone notices!
Woke up to find the female curse has hit
You guys know the drill
I hate life
I'm officially skipping my first lecture due to illness
NOW COME THE FUCK ONLINE AND PLACATE ME!
PLACATE ME GODAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SCARIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN.....
Lock your doors at night...
Figured I should update since I haven't for a while
My last few days have been crap. Well. Mostly. I have been unspeakably bored. Unless Anna and Rob are online there is NOTHING to do on the internet anymore, how I've spent so long on here in the past is beyond me. Anyway. Thursday I went late night shopping with Lynn and Romeela, only the shops closed earlier than they were supposed to, so all I got a chance to buy was two DVDs for myself, and no presents (I will not name the DVDs, as I made a deal with Anna that I couldn't mention the C word untill after my lights have been turned on - By Michael Owen, no less, swoon - on the 16th, that is, this Thursday.
It was a compromise.
Anyway. Friday. Felt REALLY ill all day. staggered to all seminars, got awesome feedback for Fish Hook at Creative Writing ('I wouldnt change anything - it really works') then went to meet Rachel for dinner at Coco Mos. Coco Mos is this Italien spot that is pretty expensive most of the time, only wew went during Happy hour so the pizzas were £3.95, and they are heavenly, proper, Italien, pizzas. *drool* They are also really big so I stuffed myself and still had a third left, made myself even iller by the stuffing, probably not helped along by the two glasses of archers and lemonade I drank (it was HOT!) Anyway, we got massively overcharged for the drinks, and I got hit by EVIL stomach cramps (not even female ones....weird, under-boob area ones....)so I went home, had a nap, felt MUCH better, came onlin e to talk to you wonderful people. Also had good chat with flat mates and people over and got to drink some of Romeelas DR Pepper - YAY
Yesterday I went into town to meet Rachel to go buy some fruit and vege from the market, they are GIVING the stuff away. A bag of potatoes, 5 oranges, 2 onions and a leek - FOR £1.71!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Got home, Romeela made dinner, was yummeth, then me, Lynn, Romeela, and Hannah watched A Series of Unfortunate Events - which is SO good. I dunno about the books, but the film knocks the HP films outta the water. I will have to track down some of the books, though I'm confident they will not touch Harry, lmao.
So yeah, that has been my past few days. I have removed the long, monotonous hours of nothingness from my account, for the sake of your sanities. OOOOOH, and when I was bored I made snowflakes out of paper and stuck them up on our notice board.
They are WINTER decorations, nothing to do with the C word.....
love you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Time to get excited for christmas, and polar bears!!
Cola rhymes with polar, whatever Kyle says....
I CANT GET OVER HOW CUTE ALL THESE ARE!!!
The seal looks like my dog but without the ears.,... :)
I can't decide whether the noises it's maiking are cute or rude...
I would so buy one of those.... a moon bottle opener....
Who needs technology, the polar bears make their OWN merry-go-rounds!
I just wanna know where they get all their coke from....
Anyone who's anyone goes to the Penguins anual Christmas Dance Off!
Okay, so you all know the deal with this one, I wrote it in about 20 minutes, but dont let that stop you from giving me a full, constructive lengthy review., Oh come on, just once? A good review? PleasE?
love you all xxxxxxxxxx
p.s. thanks Kyle for saving this for me, mucho appreciato honey. If any one sees anything glaring that i should change before tommorow when i have to read it out, let me know, thanks xxx
Purple Anorak Woman
I love to people watch. I'm just a nosy person, I guess. I watch people all the time, on the train, in a classroom, walking down the street, but most of all I like watching people out of my front window, which gives me a wonderful view of all my neighbours.
I have some pretty interesting neighbours. There's the builder next door who has a mental age of about twelve. He once stole my younger brother’s power ball and spent an afternoon poking it through the letterbox as my brother tried in vain to steal it back. Then there's the man who lives opposite, who has learning difficulties. He has an afro and gets excited when he buys crisps on their sell-by-date for half-price. You have the lady three doors down who turns away Trick or Treaters on October 30th because 'it's not Hallowe'en!' And there's the extremely attractive blonde guy who, disappointingly, only seems to emerge from his house once a month.
But by far the most interesting person I've ever observed is the woman fondly known to me and some of my friends as Purple Anorak Woman, or PAW for short. Purple Anorak Woman doesn't actually live near me. In fact, I have no idea where she comes from. She tends to appear on my street in the late afternoon, usually when I'm sitting at my computer and staring blankly out of the window for inspiration with whatever piece of pointless homework I'm working on.
As my nickname for her indicates, Purple Anorak Woman wears a purple anorak. Always. There was one time last summer where she left her purple anorak at home, giving me a stunning view of her sickly pink jogging bottoms and bright purple blouse. However, that seems to have been a freak occurrence.
Purple Anorak Woman's sister lives opposite to me, with an extremely large family of extremely odd people. For reasons unknown to me, Purple Anorak Woman is not welcome in this clan. When they see her appear on the street corner, the curtains are drawn and operation 'Pretend We're Not In' commences. Purple Anorak Woman has a lot more determination than I do. Either that or she's just really lonely, because she can usually stand there for half an hour knocking sadly on the door.
I like it best when she catches them out and they have to answer the door. Though this happens fairly often, they almost never let her in. More often than not, Purple Anorak Woman's sister will stand with the door on the latch and poke her head out to make excuses. After about five minutes, Purple Anorak Woman will turn dejectedly away from the door and wander slowly down my street, back to wherever it was she came from in the first place.
I've never quite worked out why my neighbour doesn't want to let her sister in. Maybe she's ashamed of her, or maybe she has a good reason. I mean, she's just a sad, lonely old lady. From what I've heard my mother say, she's a little 'slow,' or to use the politically correct term 'Mentally challenged.' I can't imagine she ever did anything harsh enough to deserve the treatment she gets. Maybe they just don't know what to say to her. Still, it seems a pretty poor excuse to shun her. She is family after all, and just once I'd like to see her walk inside.
The One and Only Reason Why I Can Never Win The PotterCast Blog Challenge Is....
there are only 3 stupid people who read this 'blog' and all 3 of you stupid people either do listen to PotterCast, have listened to PotterCast, or refuse to listen to PotterCast because he's a big ghay (love you Kyle)
Anyway, you all have heard of PotterCAst. So theres little point in me blogging about it.
So.....go listen to PotterCast!
To make this worse, I can't work out how to but the banners on here.
Put them on my myspace though
I really did feel the need to talk about something Potter related since this journal was supposed to be about my fan fics..
Go read my fics (again) and review (under another name)
In other news, my fingers have been burned and are hurty and bound tightly in PLASTERS (not Band Aids, cos thats the stupidest name ever, stupid Americans.....erm....who I love, mwah)
See, this is why fire (or in this case, the steam from a microwaveable clotted cream rice pudding) is EVIL
I have to go to a boring lecture on Syntax, and I haven't read the book cos I'm LAZY.
Before this, I should probably brush my hair. What the hell, I might just dry it as well. Oh hell, I'm gonna straighten it too, how glamorous.
Charlotte's Live Journal Awards:
Hottest Award: goes to Kyle
Awesomest Award: goes to Rob
Bounciest Award: goes to Anna
Myself Award: goes to Me
By the way. Kyle. I win.
Edit: OMG they just read out the names of people who added PotterCast on Myspace and my name wasn't there. It's gonna take me months to get over this. And I capitalised the C godamn it!!!
love ya xxxxxxxxxxx
New piccies up from Brens Bday
And some from Jenns
love you all!
I know you've probably all read this too many times (once) to care, but here is the final version of Window Sills
In my bedroom I have two huge windows which look down on my street. The window sills are so deep that when I was younger I could curl up in them and stay there, hidden in the curtains, for hours. I guess if I moved all the junk that litters them nowadays, I could probably still sit there, if I wanted to.
When I was younger, I'd always read long into the night, and my mum, on her way to bed, would always look in on me, telling me to turn out my light. But you can never find a good place to put your book down, so I'd always listen for her to settle down for the night and then turn my light back on. Once she'd caught on to this, I started moving to my window sills. There's a lamppost right outside my windows, and the light that came through was enough for me to read by. Even at the age of ten, I would sit there reading until the early hours of the morning. My mum never found out.
My street is only seconds away from the nearest pub, the centre of my towns nightlife. As a result, every Saturday night brought with it a drunken rabble that would run around and shout obscenities at passing crowds. When I was young, I'd perch on my windowsill and watch them. It amused me when they kicked the lamppost; I liked the sound it made as it wobbled back and forth, jokingly threatening to fall. In the dark it would send warm yellow patterns dancing across my bedroom walls.
When I was about twelve, I went through a short-lived phase where I was fascinated by witchcraft. I'd read books about Wicca and make magic potions with bath salts, shampoo, conditioner, and whatever else I could find lying around in the bathroom. That Christmas, my auntie bought me a 'spellbook' which instructed me on everything from selecting my very first wand to setting up my very own altar. My windowsill was my altar for about a week before I got bored and it got messy. I wiped away all the dirt that had represented Earth and the sticky patches that had once stood for Water. My paper pentacle was thrown away, and I stopped worrying my mother by sitting staring at smoky incense patterns for hours every day.
All that remains of my 'altar' now are the candles. I've always been petrified of fire, and everything to do with fire; candles, matches, sparklers, fireworks, fire alarms... For me, keeping candles on my windowsill meant constant checks were in order to make sure they hadn't 'accidentally,' spontaneously combusted, but it also instilled in me a small triumph every time I looked at them, which peaked sometime after my sixteenth birthday when I lit my first ever match (extra long.) Of course, a windowsill was never the most sensible place to light candles, considering the fabric curtains which hung inches away from the flames.
At about fourteen, I was allowed my first ever sleepover. My windowsills came in very handy on these occasions, they were perfect for my more outspoken friends to sit on when they wanted to shout things at the drunks passing on the street below. I was good at the hiding part, ducking out of sight behind the thick, red curtains that I could get lost in.
Nowadays my room is so cluttered that every spare surface has been covered. At the moment, my windowsills are home to an old stereo, a jewelry box, a stack of CD's and some random ornaments, along with a few miscellaneous candles. If I moved all this, I could probably still sit there, if I wanted to, although I don't need to as much now. Ironically, my mum gave up trying to make me go to sleep at a decent time at around the same time when I started valuing my sleep a lot more. Most Saturday nights I can be found, not observing, but attempting to avoid, the drunken rabble crossing my street. I don't light my candles much anymore, having moved on to much bigger foes, such as barbecues and Bunsen burners. Still, it's nice to stand at my windows sometimes, and watch the lamppost wobble in the wind, jokingly threatening to fall.
Ok, so I wrote this in ten minutes in my first creative writing seminar. All we were given was the begining of a sentence 'It was no use pretending that...' The idea was to not think, to just write the first thing that came into your head, and not edit anything as you went along, as a result, now ive read it back, its kind of....crap. Still, i said I'd put it up, so here it is. I really dont like it, really dont think I could make anything of it, but it's a learning curve I guess. I haven't edited anything, only I was stopped before i could finish it so the last little bit I've just written now.
It was no use pretending that I hadn't said it, because I had. I couldn't take it back. He wouldn't stop staring at me. I wanted to say I was sorry but I couldn't. I didn't know how. I didn't even know if I'd meant what I'd said, deep down. Maybe it was true. Maybe I'd only been lying to myself.
He was walking away now. I was trying to run after him, but I couldn't. I didn't know how. I didn't even know if I wanted to. He was too far away anyway. Even if I'd yelled. Even if I'd managed to open my mouth, and if my throat wasn't so dry, and if I'd been able to make a sound.
He'd almost disappeared by now. He was just a tiny dark figure at the end of the corridor. I couldn't even hear his footsteps anymore.
I was completely alone. The door slammed shut, and he was gone.
I wondered why I wasn't crying. I wondered why I wasn't running after him. I wondered why I wasn't screaming his name.
I wondered if I meant what I said.
The corridor seemed to be getting longer. The door at the end was moving further away. The frames on the walls were tilting and sliding, leaning in towards me. The floor was beginning to crack. The walls on either side of me were moving in closer, and closer. I could feel them pressing against my shoulders. And still the corridor stretched on.
Maybe he was waiting on the other side of that door. The door that was moving away from me, gathering pace, almost out of sight now. A tiny black rectangle against the stark white walls. Growing smaller, like a cat flap, like a birthday card, like a match box, like a dot.
I closed my eyes. Only for a moment. Then I opened them. I was staring at the ceiling. Not the ceiling of the corridor. A ceiling covered in clinical looking lights.
I was bound by tight white sheets, in a hard, lumpy bed. The air smelled of disinfectant and formaldehyde. Machines around me were beeping....people in uniforms were bustling around. Some one pressed a cool, damp cloth to my forehead, then moved over to open a window. A breeze entered, passing over me, refreshing me. Air entered my lungs and my vision cleared. And, this time in relief, I closed my eyes once more.
So, that was that.
Today I had my first proper Nature of Language lecture. Apart from the fact that I knew it all, it was really good. I got to look at pictures of chimps. It was all about comparing animal language to human language and what makes human language unique (an unasnwered question, though it is though to be the hierarchic structure)
Okay, it sounds boring now I'm saying, but honest, it was really interesting. We talked about the grammar used by the Chickadee (An American Tit, apparently........................snigge
Basically, humans kick arse, we have the best language, which is why we rule over all and have better sex lives.
Apart from pigs. THIRTY MINUTES!!!!
love to all,
Just a note to say I am officially giving up writing after reading Tree House.
I mean whats the point, really?
heehee, love ya Anna.
Okay, got my time table finalised, finally
Here it is:
Monday: Nature of Language, 3-4 pm
Tuesday: Syntax 12 - 1 pm
Wednesday: Phonology 9-10 am,
Thursday: Syntax Seminar 1-2 pm
Friday: Phonology Seminar 12 - 1, Nature of Language Seminar 2 - 3 Creative Writing seminar 3 -4.
Love you all xxxxxxxxxx
New pictures of drunkeness in my flat are up.
Of course, you'll only know that if you come on here.
Except Kyle, I told him, becuase I'm a slut.
hahaha, not really.
Love you all, ALL THREE OF YOU!!!
'Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you'