Jokes

"Knock knock, who's there, Becky."

"Was that going anywhere?"

"..."

"It's a terrible joke."

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Doctor."

"Oh God, Sophie..."

English is fun. I actually thought that was a really nice poem, or at least what I actually did of it. I think we sort of scratched the surface but I still nearly filled my copy with annotations. Same for THCM though I suppose.

Nearly done on the narrative but now I need to finish my newsletter or else fail ICT. Or get a Merit, which in some ways would be worse, if I fail I want to fail spectacularly.

Who's Lovin' You (Yes, I'm copying Caitlin too)

Helen asked me if that last post was about Alex. The answer is: it is not about anybody. It's about a person who fits that category, and if Alex wants to be perfect then I've no objection but anyone perfect will do :)

I'm looking forward to my last half-term in year 10. Also to when my black shirt arrives. WHICH IS WHEN?? I want it now. Especially as we've got D of E t-shirts (I'm wearing mine) and we ordered them after even when Mr Grey had to put in a special order for smiley faces. Mr Grey abuses me, I don't know if I like him.

I love Matty Smithy. He is greatly great even when he calls me a man. Or Velma. Well, okay, he isn't great when he calls me Velma but he rules my life.

Not looking forward to D of E, it looks nice now but apaz it's going to rain. Joy of joys. It's very joyful actually because then I can wear my super cool mac. Not looking forward to sick flavour milk and it being at the wrong time.

Erm; I don't have much to say. Soon I think my narrative will be finished and then all will be well and Ellie will stop punishing me.

Perfection and not publishing my story

In my dream world I live in a house with a man. He's nice and he doesn't have a perfect body but I still reckon he's great for everything else about him. Looks don't matter to me, he's got a six-pack on the inside. He's always warm for hugs and I get a lot of those. He also does all the cleaning and cooking :) or at least we share. He sends me roses and while I don't look like I used to he still says I'm beautiful. I want him to love me.

I don't know if I'm married to him. Well, if this is a perfect world then yes I am but I don't have children yet, we're waiting a bit before that.

My house isn't big, it's cosy and the rooms are relatively small apart from our room which has a huge, massively comfy bed. So comfy that all we want to do in it is sleep. It's blue, our room, and the bed is midnight blue and snug warm for when I need a hug and my man isn't there. There are always fresh flowers in my house that we get from our garden that magically maintains itself. We live in a little village with lots of trees and flowers around it, without loads of concrete. It looks a bit like Swavesey in the dream, but really it would all be like the high street and much less of Cherry Trees.

I'd have a car and I'd be a good driver, speed somewhere in between my snail mum and formula 1 driver dad. But most of the time I wouldn't need my car because I'd be commuting every day to do the work I love. Work would be like in my story.

The weather would be sunny for a whole proper summer, not just a week. I would wear summer dresses and we'd go to the beach and have 99s and run around on the sand like those people on adverts for spain in our sunglasses and me in my floppy hat. At Christmas it would snow and we would build snowmen and throw it at each other and catch the falling flakes on our tongues like we're five.

I don't want to be rich, I want to be comfortable and go on holiday but I don't want to have so much money that I forget about little things like punting and flowers and riding bikes in summer around Fen Drayton lakes.

I want to live near Mum, and Dad not to be far away. I want Dad to be with someone who can be bothered with me and Jack, who's nice and who deserves him and puts up with his moods. I want friends, lots of friends and then about five really good ones who come round and have Earl Grey while my man is upstairs. Those include Gok Wan, he rules.

I don't want people to die, or at least I want to be at peace with the deceased's deaths, and I don't want heartbreak. I don't want arguing and I don't want war. I want a government that isn't full of crap. I want Have I Got News For You to be on every day.

I want to still have nice hair most of the time.

Today

Evening all. So I guess today has been uneventful. I received abuse and praise for my skirt (but Tom kept calling it a dress, he needs help) and my legs were surprisingly uncold (warm) in my tights. Wonder if those tights are actually mine and not Mother's, I don't remember getting any. Well, I do remember, but they ripped on my cupboard the day after and I couldn't take them back because I already recycled the packet. Shame :(

I'm so into Jackson 5 and if Michael Jackson wasn't old and a baby feeler I would marry him for that beautiful voice of his. Also as he is a midget we would match! I got my dad's huge nose and tiny legs. I don't see why he couldn't just have given some of his large nose to his tiny legs and balanced out before passing them on to me.

Still, I can wear heels to compensate for gnome legs and if my nose makes me want to hurt myself surgery is always an option.

Looking forward to Friday and the weekend! I hate school days genuinely now, I avoid them like the plague when I can but unfortunately it's compulsory, and I sort of don't want to fail anything. Ever. Haven't managed to fail anything yet though.

Got an A on my maths mock, our class marked them in lessons. IT WAS GREAT. No, no it was not great. I get embarrassed when other people look at my papaer and then even I don't want to know what I got. German was easy in parts and not as easy in others (I was doodling on my paper so I missed a listening question, I thought it was just reading the last one for the second time).

Community choir later, am looking forward to another clueless evening of cluelessness. I can't sight sing. I used to be able to, but somehow has disappeared, I need to hear it first and that's something Sam isn't very good at.

This song has no title, just words and a tune (Elton John dummies)

Last published on the fifth of May. Oh dear... Because it's what, the twelfth? Today it was RE exam, but clearly you know that. I did answer everything, I did discrimination and war and peace, but I'm not sure if I made some things up. Hopefully I got my A, if not retake! I love retakes, it's like cheating only not :)

We have maths mock tomorrow, it's the one involving adding up in your head so I won't be getting anything with an A in it like I'm supposed to but I won't be revising, it's only a mock and I have scarier things to look at such as French and History. Well, maybe I will do a bit. My Mathwatch CD's in the drive after all.

I want to go for a run. I'm training for Race For Life because I don't want to be one of those arsey people who walks all of it and then feel really fat, so if you peek out of your window later tonight Swavesey people, you might just spot me. And then lucky you!

I got a school skirt, it's not very shapely but quite nice if I tuck in so maybe I'll wear it tomorrow. Unless I want trousers, in which case I will wear trousers.

Also got a German mock. It's only foundation though and the one my mum gave me to do took me all of fifteen minutes and it was mostly right so haha Mr Elbourn, you should've put our class in for higher. Except not in French because I swear no one knows anything in our class. Well clearly we know something. For example, je m'appelle Becky. But I can't tell you how to say fifty.

My exercise book says cinquante.

So Ellie, what're you gonna do? Apaz she's going to "duff me up" for not putting my narrative on here. Well ha, shan't!

Quels sports aimes-tu?

Am doing French. It's incredibly interesting.

Quels sports aimes-tu? 

J'aime la danse parce que c'est fantastique et interessant. Je danse depuis l'age de quatre ans. Le weekend dernier je suis allée au St Ives et j'ai dansé dans l'ecole de danse avec ma amie Holly. Je suis plus bien au danse de Holly. Dans le futur j'aimerais danser pour mon travail parce que je pense que c'est totalement formidable et ça me fait contente. Quand j'avais huit ans j'ai joué au tennis, mais c'etait pénible et ennuyeux. J'adore le sport dans le collège et c'est ma matière préférée. En générale j'aime les sports parce je les trouve amusant.

Of course, when it says I am plus bien au danse de Holly, it is a lie. Holly is amazing in a way that I will never be. But typing that allows me to live in hope. It also allows me to write a wide-ish range of vocab.

Now I shall write about how much I love S Club 7 (Tu écoutes de la musique?)

Which actually, I really do.

Hello

Yesterday the pink bed FINALLY left. I'm so glad, I cba with it any more. Just need to move it out in its pulled apart state and I can move the desk in + poster my walls and everything will be RAVE. Also did some revision and I understand more Physics than I thought I did. Though that's not really that difficult.

So today I'm moving the pink bed in't garage and arranging/killing some furniture and then... Mayfest! I've never been down to Mayfest before although I have known about the whole barrel-rolling thing for a few years. I'm actually excited in the gayest way possible, especially about the whole running around armed with a sleeping bag thing. Maybe I can nick someone else's?

RE looms. Shall revise later or tomorrow. Refuse to get another C.

Oh, and I got a mirror, which means I'm not pincing Dad's any more. It's red and white spotty on't edges. And in the middle it's reflective. If it wasn't it'd be a pretty sucky mirror.

My narrative is DONE. It just needs some kind of editing.

URGle.

I feel like turd. I am left out. I have no lenses or glasses in my prescription, so am dizzy and have a headache that not even paracetamol can cure. I am swamped in revision and languages. Recorders, the most retarded instrument ever, are stuck in my head. I'm bored. No one wants to talk to me. I can't write. I have what borders on a constant head rush, but I need to work. I just don't because I don't want to.

Today I did RE. How boring.

I'm going to Claudia's on Sunday. Should be a rave.

I like my boxers. They have a flap and everything.

I don't seem to have a lot to say lately.

Just decided not to write a depressing narrative. Happy and uplifting all the way baby. Everything I write depresses me, it's just not the way I want to operate. Happyhappyhappy. Yay. I think I shall pop off to the English department of my weekend's work. I need to finish now.