Somewhere ahead is the back of the line

Doyyeee I've got nothing to say to you kerazy chicks..and dudes. Not that dudes aren't crazy because they totally are, but they aren't really kerazy, probably because of the alliteration thing. Although now I come tot hink of it, "kerazy" and "chick" don't start with the same letter. I mean "kerazy" starts with a "k" and "chick" starts with a "c" so it's not really alliteration. It's a lie.

How shocking.

Lemmme see, what happened this week.

Well I got a 38/45 in my spanish listening test, and it was like, a practice paper, so the fact that I'm getting such high marks already is really good! I got a 33/40 in my French reading, also very good, I beat Nicola by like, 1 mark, which is good! Very good! Gooder than you know! I found out my predicted grade for PE is C...aww well, fuck that. You can't win 'em all! Well you can. But I can't. I suck at PE.
Anyway. Highlight of my week? Probably when I foudn out I got 73/75 altogether in my History Coursework. Joint highest in the year. Who rocks? *Silence* Any guesses? No one? No one has a clue who could possibly rock? Nah, me neither.

Gah, this week was all like "OMG YEARBOOK" and I was like "OMG I DON'T CARE" and the following happend.

1. I refused to get a yearbook picture taken
This lead to my friend getting all sulky.

2. I decided I would only get a yearbook picture taken if I could have a multicoloured lollypop infront of my face.
This lead to my friends being like, "Sarah..."

3. I got a boring picture taken, but editted it in photoshop so let's just say all the minor imperfections on the real thing? Not there.
What? I know I know, but my motto is, if you've got to be there, at least look good.

4. I refused to be in the class yearbook picture
This lead to me being frogmarched into the picture and FORCED to smile.

5. I refused to put my name down for the prom
This lead to my friends putting my name down WITHOUT ME KNOWING. Scandal

6. I found out that my friends put my name down and crossed it off.
This lead to the following conversation
Me: Why did you put my name down to go to the prom??
Friend: So you can go...
me: I'm not going to the prom...
friends: *in unison, like a choir* Yes you are
me: no I'm not. I'm going to stay at home and be a social outcast
friend: *avec pout* Sarah, you always do this whenever we do a whole class thing
me: Yes. because whole class things are lame
friend: *Gives me I-wish-you-would-just-grow-up-like-I-clearly-have face*
me: *stubborn face*

So I win! sort of. I'm not going to the prom. Not if they pull me kicking and screaming. I refused! I am a conciencous objector! I mean really, if the preps threw a party, would I go? No I would not! It is like..the biggest anticlimax of any girls life. What I didn't mention to my friends is that my mum said I could take some friends and have a day out, go bowling and to the cinema and eat out if I didn't want to go. Hehehe. Teehee. Ha ha hepetitis.

Gawd, there is this girl in my year called Denise, who is like...well she's debatable. Sometimes she can be cool, other times really not. She spends most of her time telling us about her boyfriends who are either.
1. using her for sex
2. UGLY
3. Using her for sex, oh wait I did that one. Uh.
3b. imaginary
So in English, there is me in the middle, writing, doing the "group" work that our lazy as a fisherman english teacher Mrs "Iamalightbulbwithchickenlegs" Parks sets for us, in an attempt to do as little as possible. Then I have Kat on one side, Denise on the other, talking about D's boyfriends. So I listened to her stories for a bit. This lesson it was about a guy who she'd been "in love with" the day before, and then it turned out that all of the "signs" which she thought meant he liked her, didn't actually, and he was a jerk. It was, dull. So after a bit, I went and talked to some actual cool people, although Denise is all like "oooh so scene." So we were chatting, and Denise actually has the ..stupidity, to ask me why I am not working. This lead to some mild swearing and unorthodox cursing, before giving her the Talk. No, not that one, the "DO NOT FUCK WITH ME" talk. Highly effective.

Funnily enough, when I went back to sit with her, she acted like nothing happend, and then wrote "Sarah rocks my sox" on my hand. How strange. She's odd, but cute. Like a puppy that keeps coming back to you. Yes. A self harming suicidal but not quite suicidal puppy.


Melissa still hasn't written back to me.
A couple of you seem to have forgotten I exist and not emailed me.

What the hell does "on a break" mean anyway?


Peach out!