Ten things you never knew about me (and would never want to!).

10. I named my cat Elvis after a girl dared me to.
9. I have to listen to music before I go to bed, or else hum to myself.
8. The necklace I have with a key on it is actually the key to my jewellry box.
7. I wear two bracelets on my right wrist -always- (apart from in showers and stuff).
6. Said bracelets are a multicolourful small beaded one, its actually a necklace, wrapped round my wrist three times, and a black beaded one.
5. I brush my teeth in the shower.
4. I'm actually quite relgious.
3. Amongst my most prized possesions is a kaleidoscope, given to me by my good friend Hannah.
2. I stick up for the French more than I do the English. o_0
1. I hate mashed potato.

Everytime I empty the dishwasher, I break at least three pots.

Got a Giant African Land Snail! (GALS for short). I named it Zippo Futty Wuzzy after popular demand. Has buried itself in the bark at the bottom of his tank. Am very pleased. Big thanks to Chloe, who gave me Zippo!! To the people who will say 'ewwww,' I have one thing to say to you. Have you ever owned a GALS? Thought not. And to Shaun the Sheep: Stop winding me up!!! :P

Nothing to report really, except I seem to have a bit of a love affair with Japan. Have watched four episodes of Witch Hunter Robin so far...I can't help it! It's soooo good. Anyways, I lost my connection for a lot of this week, the dumb laptop, so I havn't had time to do much. Will make a lovely long post soon.

Documentation of the Christening of Alfie William Smithies, 04/11/07

7.00

Am woken by a cold sensation on me. My mother has ripped the covers off me in an effort to wake me and get me out of bed. She is now running around like a headless chicken. Her attempt fails, and I roll over and go back to sleep.

8.10

Am woke by a screeching from the hallway. It is my mother again, stressed and looking to kill. I decide if I value my life, I should get up. Right away. I do this, flick on the kettle and get out some cups. Then I go back upstairs to do hair, make-up, clothes, etc.

8.40

Remember about the kettle downstairs. I have forgotten all about it, and it has gone cold. I show remorse about the fact I have lengthened the hole in the ozone layer.

I fall asleep in computer chair.

8.43

My nap is shortlived and I am woken by several shouts, and the revving of a car. I slam the big light off and leave.

Several minutes later, not sure what time.

After much pointing at maps, ripping of maps, and several under the breath comments from my father about woman and maps, we arrive at my Aunts house, in which we sit down, and chat. I am asked the usual questions (hows school, how are friends, how old are you...) and after a very, very long time, my gran arrives. She is hurried straight back out by my mother who is in major stress mode at this time.

Not sure what time. Nine ish?

The service starts. I should be used to church now, but, yeah I still find the services kinda boring. I read a intellectually fulfilling story about Biff, Chip and Floppy the dog, and spend the next hour poking my cousin in order to get him to cry, so I have an excuse to get out of the church to calm him down. My futile attempts to escape are opressed by God. And my mother, who turns round to hiss at me that she'll get me later for this. For what, I have no idea.

The time, around 12?

We set off for this party, which is a disaster. My parents make the worst mistake in their life and decide to follow my grandparents to venue. My grandparents are the worst people to follow anything. They have no sense of direction. I won't describe the next three hours or so. There's no point.

No idea of the time. I need to invest in watch.

Finally, the party at 'Happy Gatherings Chinese Restaurent (my Grandad said it was called that because they were too lazy to translate it to Chinese), which kick starts with my grandmother accidentally flinging her spring water across the table at Christine (before she had a haircut she looked like the Vicar of Dibley, See 'Dawn French' for clarification). Christine gives me a hug, even though I only learnt her name a few weeks back. I have no idea who she is.

Then we hear the words 'Buffet's Open...' and the world goes on standstill. Time stops, and everyone eyes each other up. You can almost see dustballs float across the room. Then, to the tune of Barbie Girl, everyone CHARGES for the buffet table. I get there first (I like my food, okay?). Triumphant, I look behind me at the other 105 guests (106 guest at a christening is ridiculous. How can any one woman know that many people?!?!) and take my pick. I inform an old man that KFC stands for Kentucky Fried Chicken and he goes, 'well, what do you know..? Never knew that.' Which just proves the older generation arn't as wise as they like to make out. The Buffet is Chinese food and really delicious. My Grandad stirs up an outcry amongst his fellow OAP's, who ask where the real food is. Which just shows you how pollitically incorrect old people can be.

Walking back with my prize with the children along the line eyeing me up like vultures, I pass an old woman (I notice there's a lot of old people here) who is saying 'I never wanted kids, but here I am with these two,' much to the dismay of her grown up children, who hang their heads. I hope to God I am not relatied to her. I also bump into someone I thought was a woman in a suit but later turned out to be a man. I notice my spring roll is missing. These people will do anything to torment the girl who got first to the Buffet table. Anything.

I barely finish my food when I am dragged to the floor by Reah (this adorable little almost cousin person I have. Her mum is my cousins best friend, and godmother of my cousins baby.) and made too spin her around. I am then pulled under a table which is a 'den.' It's too low and I bang my head. Several times. Feeling like I am on some sort of drug, I then am forced to humilate myself with a torture known as the Chicken Limbo. What evil minded person invented a game where you simultaneosly break your back, humiliate yourself, and inevitably lose to someone half your age and size? The same people that invented Aqua, Black Lace and Pass the bliddy parcel, that's who.

Ten Things I am Learning from Having a Computer Virus

10. You don't actually need to spend an hour highlighting 6508 infected items in the recycle bin to delete them. You can simply right click and press, 'clear Recyle Bin.'
9. Often, screaming 'I hate you, I hate you' at a computer virus does not get rid of it.
8. The people at McAfee have way to much time on their hands. They should use this time to do something productive, such as improve their crappy virus protection.
7. Most hackers can't spell balloon, been, done, and to.
6. Sometimes, it helps to have a pen handy. You never know when you'll need to jot down an IP address while your system is shutting down.
5. AVG is the answer to everything.
4. Most hackers can't spell back.
3. It is always worth checking to see when your anti hacker program runs out.
2. Apparently you can have more than one Virus. Apparently it's possible to have over 6500.


And the number one thing I am learning from having a computer virus:

1. Sometimes 14 year old girls prove to be smarter than professional anti virus advisors.

There is a very fine line between “hobby” and “mental illness.”

I may or may not break my own leg, depending on whether I will still be forced to attend my grandmothers birthday party. Please help me. My mother is doing those flower things for the table called something like "cassarole-ledges." I am being bullied into helping her wire up flowers for the next week. Anyone who wants to take me out of this lonesome environment is very welcome. Please.

My cat is snoring rather loudly and is taking up my whole bed, making me retreat to the safety of my desk. That cat just lurvves causing me discomfort.

Woke up this morning to find toni's foot in my face. Yes, Antonias' foot. I went for a sleepover there last night, and ate lots of chocolate. Talked to her Irish lover and some random guy from America. Don't ask. Judging by the manic screaming up and down that accompanied me playing 1000 miles, It sounds ok. But it was joke, and we got some funny pictures. Which will be going up on the internet, of course.

Est-ce de ma faute a moi si ma amie est comme ca?

Not a clue if the title is correct, but, no matter.

People change. It's a fact, yet, it's so hard to deal with, especially in old friends. You see people in new lights, and it surprises you. Don't get me wrong, I still like the people, but it's strange. And in some respects, not at all nice.

Went to a careers fair, tonight, and came back with about fifty free pens. They even had sweets, which cracked me up. I know pretty much where I'm going now, and what I'm studying (French, Classical and General History, and maybe Graphic Design). But plenty of time to sort that out. Right now, I'm concentrating on my GCSEs!

I know it seems silly, but I really, really want to be fluent in French. Really, really, really. I really love France(how many synonyms are there for really?), and maybe one day I'll get the chance to live over there. I know you can get summer jobs over there at like, campsites, so that'd be cool. Also, I want to get away from here. There's so much pressure to smoke and do drugs and look good, and be hard round here. I wish so much I could get away from it all. I had this silly theory things would be better in year 10, people would get serious, but, apparently it's worse. I'm tired of being here. I want to be in a place where I can feel pretty and confident, even if I don't understand the language! I'd love to be able to just reel off the French like they do...just to understand and be understood would be enough at this point. I dream of leaving this place and just going. Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling all trapped, or whatever, I just dream of leaving. Again, this will sound silly, but I think I find refuge in writing about exotic places. I can conjure up perfect images of other places. It's just not good to come out of that daydream!

It'd mean the world to me if I won the Short Story competition. I don't want to sound geeky, but the fact is I am a geek, and I'm past caring what everyone else says. I want to win so badly, it'd signify I could actually do something right. But, chances are slim. But hey, I can hope, right?

I havn't actually written anything good in a while. I just have no ideas at all.

(BTW, I don't know how to do accents, which is why the title lacks them.)

I saw my life flashing before my eyes

Let me relate to you the last five days. This is not a tale for the squeamish.


Thursday, 4am onwards.

Woke up feeling sick and thinking in French. Yes, French. I must have been delirious, or something, 'cause all I remember was thinking, 'qui ma fille est comme ca,' and the next think I know I was having major upchuck issues over the loo. Mother comes in, groans, tells me to breathe, goes back to bed. I go back to bed. I lie in bed feeling sick. I am sick all over bed. I run to bathroom. Am sick several more times before crawling back on my hands and knees to my room. The next thing I know, I wake up at 5pm, realise I have missed my best friends birthday, cry, be sick, then fall asleep again. My wall still has an interesting splatter pattern across it.

Friday, 7.30am onwards.

Mercifully, I have managed not to be sick just yet. My mother takes my temperature, pokes me and decides I absolutely must see the doctor. We phone doctors, who tell us we are to see one Dr. McClane. We check into reception. Receptionnist puzzled when my mother claims we are booked in for one Dr. McClean. I snigger whilst flicking through a particulary mind stimulating copy of, 'Where is my Tractor.' We see doctor. I am poked. I must go back if pain becomes 'localised.' I may have a 'viral' infection of the stomach, causing 'immflamation.' I am pescribed 'medicine.' I return to my house where I decided to post this blog. The internet is off. Luckily I have several anime episodes on my computer, and treat myself to a marathon (I still can't keep food down.) After this, I attempt to do some of my English Essay. I drop notes. I stand up. I fall over. I find out what 'localised pain' means.

My mother, god love her, panics, and we run (well, I limp) straight back to doctors McCleans and his surgery of dental wonders (a morbid attempt at a joke there). This time we see an old Irish guy. I am poked. He looks all serious. Five minutes later, I am rushed to casualtly with suspected appendicitus. I can hardly walk at this point. I am submitted to more poking by three different doctors, and I am jabbed with needles, given painkillers, etc. We wait. I thought it was only a few minutes, but it turns out the Aladdin clock on the wall was stuck. I figured this out after an hour, as I'd previously been trying to avert the gaze of Aladdin and his stupid girlfriend. Drugged up to the eyeballs in a room with decapitated tigers on the wall, I whimper as we wait hours and hours for them to tell me, that, in fact, I have kidney trouble. About five hours after we arrive, we are finally discharged with yet more medicine. By this time, I want nothing more than to shoot Aladdin.

Saturday, 10am onwards.

My mother is heard to say, 'she's had a hetic few days. Let's let her sleep.' Three minutes later, the customary slam of the bathroom door, and later, the clanging of pots. I stumble downstairs. Am drugged. Go back upstairs. I spend most of the day watching old Inuyasha and Avatar episodes whilst I try to get the internet running. I then pick up my History essay, but the retreat to my bed, as I can't risk vomiting all over it.

Sunday, 12pm onwards.

Ah, the sweet bliss of an uninterrupted sleep. However, I still feel sick, as well as waterwork trouble, and so I stumble downstairs, am drugged, and spend the rest of the day attempting to write my English essay. Need an extension. Hopefully being in hospital with Kidney troubles will sway my case a bit.

Monday, 7.30am.

Still feel awful, but I think I shall be in tommorow. So far, no sickness or diabolical pain, but the number of medicines I am on should do the trick. Feel ill, and guilty. I havn't done my English essay (hey, I did try!) or my History essay. I will spend the next few form mornings and lunchtimes trying to catch up. Goodbye sickness, hello lots of school work.