Over-think.

"Well... I'm going to go upstairs."

"Am I coming?"

Right now I am struggling to over-think this very familiar situation, which debatably should not have been repeated.

Usually I am the all-round master of procrastination but it's gotten to a point where I have analyzed this situation before and it has done no good whatsoever?

So what I probably will do is read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and listen to Jason Derulo to encourage an already painfully shallow line of thought.

Birthday.

If anyone asks me what I will miss most when I am dragged away from this place for further, further education I will answer entirely honestly. Saying the same each time.

Firstly,

My mother

Who unusually is very much a friend to me. (Also, she gets more and more entertaining every day)

And then secondly,

Beautiful friends like this.

I hate to think of the state I would now be in if this woman hadn't driven me away and played me Jason Derulo, because lets face facts...

I hate being alone, which is why I keep such amazing company.

I don't care how gay this post is,

Happy Birthday my lovelies

And Roxanne you can expect a card just as gay as this post, if not worse.

Pregnant.

"It is remarkable indeed how we human beings are capable of delighting in the mating call of a flower while we are surrounded by the charred carcasses of our fellow animals-but then we are remarkable creatures. Perhaps it is in our nature to recognize subconsciously the link between morality and procreation- between, that is to say, the finite and infinite-and we are in fact driven by reminders of the one to seek out the other."

- The Reluctant Fundamentalist

At the moment I have the ridiculous fear that I am pregnant.

Seemingly by at least like two months.

I know that I'm not; it is at least almost entirely impossible.

This has mainly stemmed from my fatty fatty belly that I am nicely forming.

I just thought it was awesome how I instantly thought 'Oh shit, pregnancy' rather than 'oh shit, three pizza huts in two weeks'; I keep trying to poke my stomach to see if I can feel baby instead of pizza- perhaps it feels different?

I got especially panicked today because it was too springy for my liking.

Food baby.

I just read this back and was like... Is this too personal?

There are too many things on my 'Do not publish onto blog list', so it is overflowing-onto my blog.

I miss Zoe Lee. Idiot. Get your act together.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Two Years.

Most people who know me as more than just an acquaintance, or reasonably well will understand that — 'bless me' - I am a little bit useless when it comes to grace. (Not the sister)

I am a wreck in other words; I always find a way to injure or embarrass myself.

For example on average I will hit my head on the walls in my room around three times a day at the very least.

I was under the impression that I was currently being unreasonably lucky when it came to these little mishaps-usually keeping them within the lovely boundaries of my own home or company.

It lasted two years.

Two blissful years.

Until today.

Today I left school intending to meet Jack and get a lift.

I (spectacularly) tripped over in front of quite a few people (not fully on my face, but looking like an idiot all the same) then whilst laughing it off and running to the fast escape I assumed was Jacks car...

Wrong car.

The look on that poor confused boys face as a slammed the door without an explanation.

I will deliver explanations to innocent victims when God explains why he hates me so much.

And no Matt, it was not cute.

Doiy

Juice

It was me who finished the juice father, I apologise.

I will start at the beginning as I hang my cyber head in shame and make this confession. You see I have a tendency and unbearable need to undermine people when they try to prevent me from something; especially if that something is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted at half past midnight after I have had my lovely toast.

The plan (your plan) I will admit was that of a genius. The trick was to hide the beautiful and rare tropical juice in a Tropicana carton for ORANGE JUICE- WITH EXTRA BITS (you crazy cat). Now you know that I was the previous drinker of the juice and you have also learned of my deep hatred for fucking extra bits. This is where your genius becomes apparent and YET my dear- you suffer a downfall.

Because when I come to the fridge insane with thirst I find myself in a battle: the choice between suffering these bits or my equal distaste of Asda orange juice- sometimes you just have to take the risk. Boy oh boy- sweet unexpected tropical juice- did it pay off.

The juice that you so tactfully hid from me- has gone.

Also- we are out of crunchy peanut butter.

Flipper.

One of those pitiful moods when you are really bitter about life and you sit listening to radio adverts- eating your coco pops- and take this approach to the poor people; who want only to prevent your chips turning into cracks:

Autoglass do NOT repair... Autoglass do NOT replace... REPAIR MY LIFE WHY DON'T YOU??

I have a day of revision due since my exam is tomorrow and this is all last years work- unfortunately no longer fresh in my head. Well actually not really in my head at all- I have toilet head syndrome. I cannot hang on to things I learnt last year because then there is no space for new learnings.

Also I'm full of shit.

To help all of this I have had Mayday Parade solidly and stubbornly stuck in my head for around three days. Pretty distracting reading about Robin Hardy when you're brain is going:

AND I SWEAR THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO GOOOOOOOOOOOO, I THOUGHT WE COULD WAIT FOR THE FIREWORKS...

I wish I could post you a picture of adorable penguin necklace that beautiful Stephanie got me- I might try to scan him.

Everyone got me awesome stuff actually- Fanks guys :)

Saturday was also pretty amazing.

Perhaps life is not so bad.

Most pointless and revision preventing blog ever.

But on the other hand...

Him being upside down only enhances the happily dazed impression.

Sausage

(One of those moods where you get all maternal over a picture of an animal)

If I had him my life would be complete - not for eating.

Just so that he would be mine and I could call him Sausage.

Poppy could wear a saddle for him.