Here goes

So I guess I owe you all a big explaination. Anyone who comes here no doubt has gone on ue, or checked their emails and knows that I've left the internet for now, burnt all my bridges and even given up my moderating job. Boy that was hard.

Except obviously I haven't done any of that yet. See I've been planning this for a while now. How would I have been able to write and send all of the emails in time? How would I have been able to write my going away speech on ue, and how would I have been able to write this, all on one day? I couldn't of course. Today, it's the 30th of December, and I'm speaking to a couple of people on msn and no one has a clue that in a few days I'm just going to put a flame to my entire internet life. Well that's a lie, I think Freshie knows and Rob suspects something is up, but no one else.

I'm so terrified.

I've spent what, two years? Building up this persona, working my way up on ue, getting friends, trying to help people, but the internet has sort of consumed my life.

Recently, you might have noticed I've been down. It's been a few months actually, maybe three. I've been sort of depressed. I've been crying alot, and some of my phobias have gotten worse. The fact of the matter is retreating into the computer hasn't been helping me at all. My life has been feeling really useless and I've been unsatisfied. Worse still I hate lying to you all the time when you ask how I am. A couple of times I've been honest, but even then you probably haven't known just how rubbish I've felt.

Anyway, I haven't been living, I've been doing nothing except for using the computer. I'm always getting in trouble with my mum and arguing with my brother because of something that's happend online.

A couple of my friends suggested I get out more, which I did, but I didn't really enjoy it because my life, my friends were on the internet. It was so pathetic, is so pathetic. I get so upset when anyone has friends over to goes out, and they leave me behind. TEW said she was going to be lonely at new years so I volunteered to stay up and talk to her. Later she said she had a friend coming over and I needn't. This tiny stupid thing upset me. The fact of the matter is, the internet didn't need me as much as I needed it.

So I am going to send out several emails, saying goodbye to particular people, I hope I don't leave anyone out. I'm going to take a step back, out of the internet and try to make things better. If I fail, I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused.

I'm going to be keeping up my blog, and my fictions, and my comic. All information about them will be posted here. If you don't hate me, and do read my blog, please comment on it. I will be answering my emails.

My feelings right now? Well, I am this close to backing out, if it weren't for the fact that everyone knows, I would. I've burnt all my bridges. There's nothing pulling me back.

Showtime.

So quiet, another wasted night, television steals the conversation

Exhale. Another wasted breath again it goes unnoticed.

So I've got lots of thoughts. I'm thinking of making a box, so that when I'm bored or when the cravings get too much I can look inside the box. I'll put loads of things in it, like jigsaws, and colouring books and yoyos. I need to learn how to knit. I might just, the possibilities are endless.

I like that idea, a little box, filled to the top with toys. Childrens toys I suppose but I'm not a child? Like a children's toychest. It'll be secret, mine, but I'll use it all the time. I'll be quiet all on my own but quiet and maybe happy.

I have so many plans! I might keep my room clean, I might write letters to strangers, I might get a pen friend. I could do anything. I plan to culivate pleasures of easily gained expiriences, like sucking on sherbet lemons and blowing soap bubbles. I'll watch the stars from the roof tops and wait while my eyes adjust to the dark.

There's so much to do..so many worlds I haven't explored yet. I'm worried that I wont be able to use my time effectively! What if I run out?

Most importantly, I'll be able to get back to the real world. My real friends, I mean I've been neglecting them really badly recently because I've just..oh I don't know. I suppose I've been in a bad mod because Iv'e been having lots of problems and things on my mind, but most of the time when you think about it, my problems are all self inflicted.

There's a part of me that doesn't want to go back, to be with my friends from school and live a proper life, but even if I don't want to socialise, I can still be happier away than I am here.

I occasionally forget why I'm doing this. I'm holding onto the thought that everything will get better. I don't know what I'll do if it doesn't.

13 days remaining.

Preparations

I'm still not sure I've made the right choice, but sometimes I wish it was the 12th and I could just get it over with. It seems so drastic. I don't want to back out now.

I'm aware I'm being stupidly vague. I don't want anyone to guess. Because it wont work if they guess. I think. I'm not sure.

I'm just babbling. People around me are so happy. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I'm ugly and scrawny and a coward.

It's funny how I have this whole thing planned. The whole everyone ignores me thing works, no one guesses. Well maybe one person, but apart from that, out of all of my friends, you would think at least a few more people would have. But they haven't.

I should have started preparing. I need to write emails and plan a speech but I can't bring myself to do it.

I'm having a bit of a rough patch right now, lots of things are bothering me.Most are caused my the internet.

Everything will get better soon.

Deep Thinking

Well, I've been doing thinking. For a while now. Lots of thinking. It feels like lots of things have happend and I don't know which ones to trust.

I do know that things are going to change. I think. If I can. If I'm brave enough..

January 12th is the date I've set. The thing is, I don't know if I should, and I don't know if the reason I think I shouldn't is because I'm afraid. This is true. I don't want to fail. I want to be remembered.

January 12th, seems too close. But also too far. I need to make the preparations. I'm making the most of it while I can.

Sometimes

I often look around at my friends at school and think, they came in as scrawny little girls, and now they've become pretty young ladies. What the hell happend to me.



No one reads this blog. No one cares what I have to say. Not even the people that say they care about me.

Funny Thing

www.saraklaus.blogspot.com

Check it out.

Happy Midwinter from Sarah Claus

Do you know, my name is Sarah. And Santa Claus' first name is Santa. The first two letters of both of our first names are not only shockingly simillar, they are the same.

You realise, that this means you can substitute the Santa in Santa Claus, to Sarah? Therefore making a new, more special Santa Claus?

I give you Sarah Claus.

I'm like the anti-santa. I mean, I' ve made up this whole thing. I have a list of hardened criminals that I keep in my pocket. Every midwinter, I visit the criminals who have been particularly bad, and I steal their books. Yes, you read it correctly, I steal their books. And then, if they've been stealing candy from young children, perhaps babies, I pull out their hair. They wake up all like "omgwtf where is my hair?" and I am of course long gone, flying away on my ..I don't know, dogs from hell? What are they called? Huskys! Yes, that's it, huskys. I fly away on my huskys.

And why don't they wake up when I pull out their hair I hear you ask? Well, you don't wake up, when I pull out your hair, do you? And don't say you do, because if you did, then I wouldn't be able to return every other night, except wednesday because I have bingo on wednesday, and pull out some more of your hair that I add to my extensive hair collection.

And then I make a hat. Yes, Sarah Claus has a hat, made of hair. She wears this hat made of hair, and a bit trench coat, a pink trench coat. And I don't drink cocacola, I drink Dr Pepper. Take that St Nick.

Anyway, every one looooooves Santa Claus, right? Well everyone will love Sarah Claus to, but only love her, because they know that if they don't, she'sll steal all of your books, whether or not you are a hardened criminal.

What do she do with the books? Well, that's a very good question. She builds herself a magnificent fortress in the desert. You heard me. No stupid northpole crap, she lives in the desert. Damn straight she does. She lives in a fortress made of books. And when she's bored, she picks up a book and reads it! But the whole fortress doesn't fall down or anything, because it's like, when you pull a table cloth out from under lots of plates and stuff. Yes, she's that good.

And you know how Santa has all those elves to help him out with shit? Well Sarah Claus has loads of Dwarves to help her out. They don't wear stupid dresses either, they wear...robes, like in Harry Potter. Yes. Just like that.

Anyway, yes Sarah Claus is very busy all year around. Because she is planning on who to take books from, which books to take, and so on. The dwarves help her, by preparing big sacks for her to put all the books in, so that they don't like, split or something, because that would be a bummer.

Yessir it would


Next week, Cyber Punk Sarah.

Writing

Don't you hate it when you want to write something, but you don't know what? You feel like creating something, putting words into an experience, you want to make something beautiful, and you can't. There's no plot, no idea, only an urge, a desire to make something exist.

That happens to me alot. I'll be sitting in English, doodling on a spare piece of paper, and I want to write something. Sometimes there will be a small idea attached, sometimes there isn't one. Sometiems I just write anything that comes into my head, like a desciption of the room, of my self. Sometimes I write feelings, sometimes I write to myself. I don't like to waste it, the eagerness to write, I feel that if I don't somehow trap it and use it to my advantage it'll fly away, like so many times before. But I also don't want to write for nothing. Is there any point in writing a paragraph that no one will read? That has no storyline, is simply words on a page? It exists for itself and me, and is beautiful on it's own. But it doesn't finish, it's incomplete, and there is no desire within me to complete it anyway. Later on, I'll look back on it and wish I could gather the inspiration and motivation to continue it, but motivation is like happiness. When you want it you can't get it and it often crops up when you can't make any use of it.

I wonder if it is a waste, and what I ought to do with it. What would someone else in my place do when they are suddenly hit by an urge to write? Some people would write it anyway, some people would put it into whatever project that they put on hiatus months ago. I normally just ignore it. Is this is waste? The problem with writing is it's addictive.

Say that I am in school and suddenly feel like writing something, and so I do. What do I get from that lesson? I don't learn anything. But I do write something. That would be great if the writing went anywhere, if I gained from it, but I don't. When I get the writing bug it sometimes lasts for a day, sometimes for a month, but it leaves eventually. True, you can write for a while after wards, just simply going on in the hope that you can continue until it's finished, but that rarely happens. After that, it's only a matter of time before my writing dries up and turns into something I'll shove at the back of my wardrobe and leave there, hoping that I shall one day return to it. To my dismay, when I do revisit it, I find myself disgusted with the quality of my writing. Where is the description? The setting? Why is the plot line so unoriginal, where is the twists and turns that keep me hooked. It's as though someone else has written it and I hate it with a passion.

It's not always possible to write. I need precise situations which only goes to prove that I am not really a writer. Writers, I'm sure, can write whenever they want. I can't write when I have people around me. I find it difficult, to write when my brother is sitting behind me. Writing is pouring out your feelings and emotions and thoughts and quirks on to a page, it's as revealing as taking off you clothes, and I can't do it. I have no problem with showing people the finished work, but my ameteur projects? It's far too embarrasing. I can't write if I can't concentrate, I can't write when I'm listening to music. Sometimes I can only type my story straight up, sometimes I only want to scribble it down on paper. Sometimes I constanly get distracted and there's always some way for me to not write. Maybe it's making excuses, because I hate to fail again. When you are writing you get your hopes up, you start dreaming about getting published. It's not true, it never happens. Writing is one thing, finishing a project a whole new concept and getting published is not as easy as it's made out.

There are thousands of other things that you can say or do instead of writing and failling. The failing is what hurts the most. Everytime I see a story crash and burn I resolve to not start another one until I'm sure I can finish it. Each time I don't manage.

Right now, I have three projects on hiatus. Although I haven't officially stopped any of them, and I do plan to finish them, I doubt that I will end up finishing them. I've seen my friends around me somehow manage to stick with one firm story line for years, while I flit through several, developing on one here, rewriting an opening here, and inevitably not accomplishing anything.

Sometimes, it seems that the easiest thing to do is what everyone else does.

The things I do..

Feel proud of me, all of you that have spent countless msn conversations trying to persuade me to enter the real world. Feel less useless, those of you who wanted to fight my demons for me without realising quite what they are. Feel relieved, those of you who were afraid I would spend the rest of my life in front of the computer...not that anything is certain.

Yesterday, my friend mentioned to me that maybe we should go ice skating, as they have put an ice rink in the centre of town. I was a bit apprehensive, as that would mean going into town, so as usual I said nothing definite. But that's nothing new. I was somewhat surprised that my friends were still asking me to go places with them, and not just supposing that I would automatically say "I have some homework," or "I'm not feeling so good this week, maybe another time." But they seem to still have some faith, or maybe they are just not very observant. Either way, I was all set to forget about it, when my mom mention it in the car. I was mega surprised, my mother, actually trying to persuade me to go outside? It's something of a foreign concept to me. But she did, and she sort of said I should go, in a sort of, "I-suppose-if-you-really-want-to-go-and-you're-with-a-group-of-friends-and-I-don't-have-to-do-anything, way. Which is a more enthusicastic way than normal. I assured her that I didn't really want to go, and I'd prefer to stay at home, but shockingly, she seemed to want me to go.

I felt like saying "Who the hell are you and where did you put my mother?" but I didn't think she'd appreciate this kind of humour. Instead I just played it down and smiled at her.

So it looks like I might go..my friends called again and say we should go tomorrow. I'm a little worried. I mean it's going ot be the centre of Birmingham and if anyone knows even the slightest thing about me, they're likely to know that the centre of Birmingham is not on my list of places to be. Infact I recall that it's high on my list of places that I would really rather not visit unless there is no other choice because I don't like being there at all and just thinking about it make me nauseous. I'm not going to go into the whole why I don't like it, or what scares me about it so much, because I doubt anyone wants to read that, nor am I willing to divulge that information even if they did. Somethings are personal.

I was still a bit iffy, but I mentioned it to Jo, and she sort of wanted me to go. Well, "sort of wanted me to go," is a little bit of an understatement. She did say that if I went it could be considered a Christmas present for her. This sort of thing pushed me over the edge. I haven't been able to think of anything to get her for absolutely ages, and so I thought, if she really wants me to go, maybe I should.

The point is, I do alot of things for my friends. If I know that they really need something I'll give it to them, if I know they really want something, I'll get it for them. I might be violatile, and dishonest, but I try to do what's best. My online friends make this difficult. What can you do for someone across the internet? It's a bit difficult, especially when it comes to things like their birthdays or christmas. I've been through everything, from writing poems and drawing pictures to simply saying "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" on the mic. But I know, that whatever I get them, yes it shows that I care, but do they really want it? Is it of any value to them? No. I don't think so. And I never like giving gifts if they aren't going to be used. What on earth is the point of thos bath salts I get from my birthday, when I don't have a bath? Why do people insist on giving me point romances, because they know I like books. Sometimes an unwanted gift is worse than no gift at all, what's the point of giving unless it's something worthwhile. You might as well just give someone a hug to show you care if you want to take the "it's-the-thought-that-counts" point of view.

So, if going skating will really make Jozina happy, then I suppose I'll do it. And not just for her, alot of people might be happy to hear I'm going out of the house, even if it's just once in the entire holiday. It's a start I suppose.


P.S. Who is it that keeps commenting? I don't mind, heck, it's fun to see that someone's reading, but there is a fine line between stalking and appreciating, and leaving your name makes it just a little clearer. If you don't leave your name, I suppose you do get to be all mysterious like Xena, Warrior Princess. Unless of course her real name was Xena. But I doubt that. Why the heck would anyone call their daughter Xena?

Blink and You'll Miss It

So yesterday when I was on webcam with Dillie, she said that I looked older. Now I do a very good impression of a six year old, I must say. I kid, I kid. I look about 14. And I'm nearly 16, so really, I look alot younger than I really am, but she said that I was getting older.

So being me, I spent a bit of time staring at myself in the mirror, and you know what I realised? I am getting older. I'm growing out of my baby face, and I'm loosing the whole roundness thing. Sometimes I even look 16!

The thing that's a bit weird, is that until she mentioned it to me I didn't even consider the fact that I might be finally growing out of my childlish looks. I suppose I've just gotten use to it, because it's been like this for so long. I mean, I haven't changed since..well since I was about 11. That's a long time to stay the same. So when Madeline mentioned it yesterday, I took it for granted that she was kidding. Then I went upstairs and had a look in the mirror. It's true. My face is changing, it's gone more heart shaped than circular, and my nose is sort of...straighter. Inface, I look like one day I might just be an adult.

This is a difficult thing to get my mind around. Especially because I quite like the changes. I am torn between longing to stay a child, curiosity to see what I end up looking like, and a painful desire to pause time.

All this is futile of course, as I have no control over how I end up looking, and time will go on inevitably. I wonder when I'll peak, when I'll look my best. I wonder if I want to know. If I don't maybe I can pretend that I am still growing, and that all growing girls get wrinkles. I doubt this very much. I supose I shouldn't be worrying about that sort of thing. I should be worrying about exams. What's the point really though? It's not like it'll help to worry, unless I actually revise because I get so worried, and that is unlikely is it not?

It still irks me, that I'm changing and that not only did I not notice it, but there's nothing I can do about it. I don't know the rules of this odd game, when will I stop? How will I know what the finished product is? What if I suddenly look in the mirror and see someone else?

I don't suppose it's my job. Someone else can do it.

Gifted

Note to self. Megz singing OCADO ocado.com is the cutest thing I have ever heard in quite a long time.

Knitting is a heckofalot harder than it looks. I thought, as usual that I'd be making scarfs by...well now. But I can't do the simplest thing. I suppose that's what everything is like. I mean nothing is just natural.

It's funny, because one of the most common teenage obsessions is trying to find your hidden talent. Like you always think there's something that you are a natural at. I suppose the desire comes from seeing others around you who are good at things. Like natural musicians or artist. But then, here's the funniest thing, very few people are actually natrually talented. Any talents that people have come from practicing. It's like everything else, you have to put in lots of work and effort, before you can reap the benefits and the rewards of being good at soemthing. The problem is, when you realise that you aren't going to pick up a harp and be able to play like a pro, you normally loose interest. It takes a very interesting and determined type of person to persevere after they've failed. Sadly, I am not one of those people.

Instead, I still try everything I can, in the hope that I will find something that's easy for me. Some hidden talent tha has laid dormant for years, only to suddenly surface. The thing is, my choices are runnning thin. I posses no unnatural talents in anything musical, nor drawing, scultping or anything that falls into that category. I can't play sports all that great, the only thing I'm good at is dodgeball..and I'm good at the dodgeing part. I'm not particularly strong, or good at cooking, I can type pretty fast, but so can everyone else. I'm not like, the smartest person in the year, I don't have a talent for modern languages. I am not good at constructing buildings or entertaining children.

Infact, the only thing I'm half good at is lying. And isn't everyone?

*Hysterical Laugh*

*Creeps onto the computer*

Shhhh, I'm not online.


*Giggle*


Ok, I'm online, when I said that I was going to try and make something of my life, or something like that. I vaguely recall that the conversation blamed my lack of ...anything on my excess of internet.

Infact, I am expanding my horizons, I've rented all three LotR films and plan to watch them all during the holiday. I have also taken out a selection of books, including "Looking for JJ" and "The Lovely Bones" which I hope to read. If this does not entertain me I can learn some of the spanish vocab that I got off the AQA website. Taht should set me up nicely for my exams.

Once I've done all of this, I'm going to take up knitting.


Seriously, it's occurred to me that there is very little cooler in the world than knitting. It's so ironic. So I'm going to learn how knit, then sit in the library at lunchtime and knit. I'll try to keep a straight face, but it's going to be so funny!

Speaking of which I have decided that next non uniform day, I'm going to wear my uniform, but still give the money! It's going to be hillarious! I don't think anyone will get it though.

I shoudl really stop lying, but I'm so good at it! That's not a good thing. Yes.

At least I'm upbeat today. That's because I'm slightly hysterical. I might burst into tears, or burst out laughing at any moment. I think it's best if I do nothing.

I am actually feeling a little crazy today, I might be sick actually. This isn't very good for me, I mean, I might snap at ay moment. That would not be good.

The internet bores me, but I can't find the will to log off. What else is there for me to do? Nothing as usual. A big fat blob of nothing.


The next person who asks me why I don't go out much dies.

When there's nothing left to burn you must set yourself on fire

So when everyone leaves you, at least you'll still have yourself to confide it. The point is you have to make yourself someone that you want to confide in. When there's no one else to talk to you can always talk to yourself, if you want to. It takes a collosal amount of energy to talk yourself into any kind of sensible conversation. You can have a stupid conversation, but to create another person in your mind, to see them, and have them think something else to what you think, it's a very difficult thing to hold in your mind. Creating an imaginary friend is an even harder feat, you have to create someone from scratch. At least when you speak to yourself, you have yourself to start with, and you can just change certain aspects. And yet as children we all had imaginary friends, or claimed to. Whether or not we really did, we probably wont ever know. But why waws it so easy then? Surely we were children we had limited brain capacity. Did we cheat? Did we really just pretend to have an imaginary friend? The pit is bottomless as you can never, with complete certainty, relate something that occured as a child.

So the question I'm asking myself right now, is that have I lost something that I had when I was a child? I know I've lost my innocence, well that just happens, but did I loose my imagination? I mean, I have a pretty vivid imagination for someone my age, I can make up wonderful stories to get me out of trouble, and I can make up wonderful things to take my mind of other things. But then if this is true, when why do I find it so difficult to sustain another person in my mind? Maybe it's because I need the space in my mind to grow my own personality, there's just not room for two separate personalities in there. That's true enough, but surely I should be able to summon the strenght to keep a secondary character for a few minutes. Maybe I just lack the will power. That's worrying. It means that I don't see the point. Now I think of it I don't. I feel as though I've lost something that I ought to have had, I'm on the edge of a cliff.

I was able to thin of amazing things when I was younger, but I would hope that my imagination has refined itself so that I don't come up with ridiculous ideas that wouldn't work. So in refining, did I skim off some of the importants skills? Should I still be writing about mice turning into humans and dogs looking for balloons? I don't think so, but if it means that in that state of mind, I was able to concentrate on a wider spectrum and keep more ideas in my head at the same time, maybe I should have stayed like that.

It doesn't really matter though, because it's not as though I could go back, and if I did I don't think that anyone who reads my stories would appreciate it. I suppose that as my style of imagination to fiction changes, my thoughts change with it, and my ideas become more disciplinednm. It's entirely likely that this is good for writing and that all good writers have lost some of naive childish prose, but in the end they gained.

The fact that I can't conjour anyone in my mind except for me could reflect on anything. Maybe it's just that I've had a change in lifestyle, or a trail of thoughts has finally finished and I have' come to a new conclusion.

The most depressing thing is when you spend days, hours of you life moulding yourself a creation, maybe based on fiction, maybe based on fantasy, only to find you can sustain it for mere hours. Is it work it? And then the lonliness that comes after you've lost a friend that always knew how you felt.

Being a teenager isn't fun. You go through all these changes and it's not original in the least. You're exactly like everyone else, and yet you always want to stay apart. It's like we're all in a fog, and we're near a cliff, but we don't want to call out to each other, because we don't know if it would be so bad if we fell off.

They say that adolescances is an age of madness. I don't disagree. The worst part is you know you're mad, and you like it.

At least when you're all alone, you can talk to yourself.

Lipgloss and Yield Signs

There are problems, when your hair forms a triangle after you wash it. When you step out of the shower, and after giving it a once over with the hair drier, it vaguely resembles a slightly wavey egyptian pyramid.

So obviously I straighten it. I wouldn't do it if I thought it was damaging my hair, but it just can't be, because I have so much hair it wouldn't matter if it did.

Once you have the perfect hair, it's inevitable that you will have to find the perfect lipgloss. Whether or not you wear makeup, you should always, as appropriate, wear either lip gloss, or eyeliner. In this way, you can manage to look decent and tidy, withotu looking slutty. On suitable occasions, such as visiting the king, light foundation also might be applied.

A common problem is when a stray wind blows your perfect hair into your perfect lipgloss, which by nature is exceedingly sticky. Then you not only get a dollop of lip gloss in your perfect hair, but in some dire situations, you may end up with a clump of not so perfect hair leading to a not so perfect appearance. The solution to this common problem, is of course to keep your hair cut in a fashionable bob, leaving no strands long enough to reach your lips. Other, more natural methods include tilting your face sky ward, and blowing any strands that dare to enter within 3 cms of your lips. Unfortunately, there are always side affects. The former might cause neck problems, the latter might cause you to resemble a blowfish.

One of the greatest problems in life, is that no one knows enough about protocol. I imagine that if every household had a big book of easy access protocol guidelines, everything would be alot easier.
Think about it.
You'd never have to worry about being over dressed, or under dressed, you'd know whether it was rude to serve someone when they had already pointed out that they didn't want to be served.
The latter became something of a problem for me today.
I wont go into detail about who our guests were, sufice to say they arrived at an awkward time, when my mother was out, and due to our relationship, I was unable to entertain them. This lead to much problems, as they wanted to speak to my brother. My brother and I get on very well, and we make a good team when we speak to people, he provides the intellectual comements and I provide the comfortable small talk. In this way, we manage to charm most people. Unfortunately, when left alone, both of us make mistakes. I tend to go overboard, make inappropriate jokes and basically chatter about anything, and he tends to mutter, murmur and generally retreat into himself.

The question that arose, is that what do I serve. My mother wasn't at home, which led me to the task of being the hostess. I had already asked, and they had said they didn't want anything, but even if they didn't really want anything, it would be inhospitable if I didn't present them with something. Failing that, at least it would give them something to do, and stop my brother from being completely at a loss. But what to give them. They had already pointed out that they didn't want tea, so therefore giving them tea would qualify as a stupid thing to do, and possibly, they might take it as an insult. Tea was out of the question. Could I just present them with some water? But that was too bland. I couldn't just give them water, I might as well not give them anything at all. I decided that fruit juice was a good idea, but what kind? I supposed that mango juice might be a bit pretencious, and we didn't have much else, so I settled for good old orange juice. I had to open a new carton, else they would have had to drink that pulpy bit at the bottom, but I think it was the right idea. Now a new problem threatend to stop me in my tracks. As there were only two guests, and so therefore only two glasses of orange juice, how would I serve it. I could simply hold the glasses and go in, but that would be a little gaunche. Therefore I produced a tray, and after covering it with a doily, I placed the two glasses there. That was all fine and dandy, but it pointed out that it was a bit of a waste to get the tray out if I was only going to put two glasses on it. And even so, I could hardly give them a drink and no food. Food was another tricky issue. I couldn't fry them anything, and I doubted they wanted anything fried anyway, it would be far too heavy. I could give them chocolate, but what if they suffered from diabeties, or were simply dieting? It would certainly lead to awkward questions and therefore I avoided it. Biscuits maybe, but it had to be the right kind. In the end, I hit gold, and decided to give them a few dates on a plate.

After putting all of this on the tray, and balancing it quite well I thought, I presented it to the company, and left the room. Although they only ate one date, and probably only finished their drinks out of politeness, the fact remains that I had fufilled my duty and the host, and therefore I felt rather proud of my achievements.

Rather than tidy up the mess that my rather haste preparations had caused, in true teenage style I decided to leave it for my mother. Although now, rethinking that idea, as I w ill probably end up tidying it away anyway, and would recieve more credit if I were to do it without being asked. After much contemplation I have decided that maybe I should tidy it away. I'll do it in just a minute.

Today, another one.

What did I do today? Nothing. As I'm sure you wel know. I never do anything. I rarely leave the house, and when I do it's not to do anything interesting, nothing anyone else in my situation would to, and if it isn't it's only because they avoid embarking on such dull endevours.
I managed to completely blow minal off today, when she suggested meeting up in the holidays. I don't know why. I just did. I don't want to go and I don't know why. It's my fault.

I wrapped up my presents for my friends today, I can't wrap anything. I wrote their cards. My handwriting was barely legible. I bet they'll think I didn't put any effort in, but I did. I don't know why I couldn't write neatly, or use a bit more selotape. I bet their presents for me will be beautifully wrapped.

Mum suggested I take a friend to centre parks. I couldn't think of anyone I would take. My school friends would all get annoyed with me within a day, I'm constantly arguing with my friends from the circle, and I'm not surprised, I'm such a moody cow I'm shocked they don't just slap me. Even if I could take my internet friends I wouldn't. It's obvious that most of them don't like me. The conversations are so weak. I know they are getting bored of my whining all the time, and I have to stop, but I can't help it. I can help it. I'm just being selfish. I should be more cheerful. I bet in real life, they wouldn't be able to deal with say, ten minutes of my company. They'd be so bored and wish they'd never suggested a meet up.

Rob mentioned that I would be missing out on meeting him, Geo and Laura. I felt so bad that I didn't care. I'm not missing out, and they certainly aren't either. Everyone wins.

Adam and Meag are going out, that deserves a mention. I'm horribly jealous, because all Adam does is talk about Meag, but I suppose this is how he felt about Rob, but worse, because he liked me, and I only like him as a mother. Yes, he's my adopted son. Meag is super pretty. She has lovely blonde hair and a cute face. My hair is triangle shaped.

I have to go and play squash tomorrow, it's not going to be the most fun ever. I don't know. Knowing me I'll be really grumpy and argue with Kat, that'll just make everything perfect.

Actually, there is no actual arguing, just a ton of hard feelings and swallowing acid on my part. Because if I don't no one else will.

I'm on this new forum, full of like 24 year olds. That's me, in 8 years. How depressing. I almost hope someone shoots me. Almost. Maybe tomorrow I'll get hit by a car. I wonder what Ue will think. I hope they care. But they wont I suppose. No one on Ue even knows me any more. It's my own fault for not keeping up with the new members but I can't bear it.

That's all for now I think. Any more and I'll depress myself even more than I already have. Love and Peaches.

Ten Secret Facts About Me

They did this on Ue, but I was too shy to do it properly.

1. I'm shallow, but I hate it when other people are shallow.
2. I'm a snob, but I call snobbish people stuck up.
3. I yell at people when I get annoyed with them, instead of trying to work out why they are like they are.
4. I constantly blow off my friends invitations to feed my fears.
5. I can't remember the last time I was truly happy.
6. I feel like an idiot writing this, because any problems with my are self inflicted.
7. I'm constantly all dressed up with no where to go.
8. I hate offloading on my friends, because if I do, I think they'll dump me for someone cheerful.
9. I think crying is weak, but I cried in front of my whole class when we watched "of Mice and Men"
10. I hope no one reads this.

Attack of the guilt

So I felt pretty guilty for not updating my blog, what with the few people who do read it. Goodness knows why, nothing ever happens to me, and nor do I have any insights like some.
For example, Megz does loads, Luke goes to parties all the time, Dillie has all these thoughts, and I just sit here typing into a forum where no on knows the first thing about me.

It's all really quite weird when you think about it, that they would be interested in anything that little of me would have to say.


Now, some other weird things.

I'm going to be 16 soon. Not so soon I should start freaking out, but soon enough for me to start writing ballads to my carefree years. Although, I never really had carefree days after I hit 13, and some mean girl at school told me what sex really was. God, who can be carefree with that hanging over them? I don't know, I sometimes roll in my bed, cursing that girl. Is she fictional? Will you ever know?

I love reading fantasy. I am well aware that it's rubbish and that I should spend my time in more profitable endevours, but I still love to pick up a tamora pierce book and then sift through it for a few hours. I like it I suppose, because it's escapsim. Television, movies, books and the internet give me a nice steady diet of escapism and I couldn't do without it. Even when I'm dried of my normal addiction, by running out of literature, or being banned from the net, I sit in my house and day dream, or better yet, really dream. Dreaming is the best. Sometimes I wish I could sleep forever. When I die, I hope it's like that, just sleeping.

I've got to think about my future whatever the hell that's going to be. I mean I have to choose my A Level subjects, which is a whole big important thing, but I dont really know what I'm going to choose, and if I do, to what end. I don't have an aim yet. And what makes the whole situation worse? Everything I worry about, has been done before. Countless students have wailed about not knowing what their calling is. My lack of originality is applaing. Why can't I think of anything better? I don't know. I blame myself. It's not my fault.

I did fairly well on my mocks. All A's and A*s so long as you don't count my B in PE and who the hell would anyway. I see no reason for it to spoil my fun, PE sucks anyway. If I go up a grade in everything, I shall be a very happy bunny. I'm sort of afraid to dream. Too good to be true really.

I'm looking forward to my post sixteen evening. For those of you unfammillar, it's where they talk about what I'll do after I'm sixteen. I have to apply to sixth forms, and I have to find out my predicted grades. My predicted grades are going to kick ass. Call me evil, I want to beat Squizzymick.

No one in my history class knows what Hyper inflation is except me. How stupid is that. It's not rocket science. I probably should tone down the whole arrogance thing. What with the not shopping at Asda, looking down in anyone who plays sport, and staying inside the house all day, I really shouldn't be making fun of the people in my history class. Hyper Inflation is a really difficult concept to grasp. *Snort* Yeah right.