New Years!

So another year has passed. Seriously, 2009 went ridiculously quickly, did anyone else notice that?
I suppose my year could be better summed up by my latest comic or the journal on my website. Did I mention I have a webcomic site?
But anyway, this year's been pretty good. I've learned some things. I've learned that peer pressure works. Not always for the worst, but never in ways you expect it to. I've learned that sometimes, just sometimes, he likes you as much as you like him. I learned the true meaning of Christmas, HA! Just kidding. I learned that Chemistry is really, really hard, but really, really satisfying when you get it right. And I've learned that sometimes, you just have to let it be.
I've also come to realise something. I'm completely freaking amazing. That's right. Goodbye low self-concept, goodbye self-doubt, and goodbye body issues! For now at least.
This year's been a year of inside jokes. From "Hayden is a tool," to Laquisha, to "IT CAN'T BE IMPROVED!" to "computerprogrammers," to "YES Guitarist!" to shazipper, to anything and everything to do with Ziggy and our being the same person, to all the jokes at E Goldman's expense, to ruddyruddyruddyruddyrudd, to sour cream and onion pringles, to the sponge front door, to the all-out backhand war between me and Kris, to sipping coffee after saying things to add emphasis, to "I have six pockets," to "ooh, ahh, interesting, fish, otter, poo, Alex," to "I can't die, I haven't read the 7th Harry Potter book!" to Jellyfish Headquarters, to Andre's Angels, to LEEEEELA LA-LA-LA-LA-LEELA!, to "I MADE IT MYSELF!" to "I need some industrial-strength orange juice," to "runs in the family," to "aww...too soon?"
This year, I've been to Europe, got my first A in English since forever, had everything I own turn to fail, started a website, cried on stage for the first time, completely improvised my way through Ibsen's "A Doll's House," pulled several A-Standard assignments out of my arse, worked my arse off to complete several C-Standard assignments, ate cheesecake, mango and tirimisu for the first time, became the best cymbal player ever, was introduced to Quentin Tarantino films, figured out that I'm on the pirate side of pirates vs ninjas and entered the larval stage of the classic rock snob, thanks to Meredith who introduced me to The Beatles.
All I can say is, even though it'll be tricky, I hope 2010 out-awesomes 2009.

The ghost of Christmas Was Yesterday.

The lesser-known Christmas ghost.
Before I begin this blog, I'd like to say that I may have made the mistake of the afternoon. I forgot that I'd left my tea brewing in the kitchen and left it there for about twenty minutes. Not only this, but I used two teabags because I'm impatient. Not only this, but they were extra strong teabags. Needless to say, I can now see through time.
Anywhoozle. Christmas texts are interesting beasts. People you haven't spoken to in years suddenly let you know that they still have your number and send you a "merry xmas." Every now and again, there's someone who spelt "Christmas" as a whole word, just putting in that bit of extra effort. Now, I went to considerably more effort with my Christmas texts, as did some people I know (Ziggy being the queen of my inbox at present...getitgetit, it's a pun) but my dad's friend Mike probably got the best Christmas text in the history of Christmas texts. "Merry xmas spunkie, love the lesbians." This is amazingness in text message format, which I got to experience because I'd just spent ten minutes trying to teach him how to use his iPhone. I don't even have an iPhone, I've got what is generally referred to as a dad-phone. Not even my dad has a dad-phone. He's got a blackberry, I've got a dad-phone. Where is the justice in the world? I'll tell you, it's in the fact that I have the best text message tone in the universe, and it went off twenty-four times yesterday. If you've had the privilege of hearing my text tone, you will appreciate why I don't want a new phone. If not, you can only imagine its brilliance.
I lost track of this blog slightly, I blame the super-tea.

Christmas 'n' stuff

"Why do you hate Christmas so much?"
The question was fired at me on the second last Thursday of school by Mr Goldman, my guitar teacher, after he plonked the most ridiculous piece of sheet music for Silent Night in front of me and expected me to badly (and grudgingly) sight-read it, not try to stab myself to death with the stand. Now, what he didn't know was that earlier that day, Mr Andre had given me a grand total of five Christmas Carols to learn over the holidays. I don't have the heart to tell Mr Andre that I hate Christmas Carols beyond comprehension. I do, however, have the heart to complain to Mr Goldman about anything he expects me to hack my fingers to bits on my rusty guitar strings with, and this was no exception.
I suppose, when you think about it, it could be easy to think that I hate Christmas. The carols fill me with such fury that if I'd had a toxic waste related incident many years ago, I'd surely become the Incredible Hulk. I never believed in Santa Claus, which, I suppose, saved me from a whole lot of heartbreak. My parents are divorced, although this just means more presents. And, living in Australia, the temperatures are anywhere between ludicrous and is-the-sun-god-just-spiting-me-now. Being a pennyless student, I can never actually get people gifts. My Aunty always used to make me and my two cousins do some kind of god-awful song-and-dance type thing, and looking back on them, they make me feel physically ill; and finally, my dad's place is on the same street as about three churches, so there's the bells to wake me up at stupid o'clock.
But, despite all this, I like Christmas. Whether it's the fact that I get to see all my family members at once (the ones I like at least), or the presents (yes, I like being materialistic, it's great, step-relatives try to buy my love!), or the Tripod Christmas album, or the fact that it gets me two months off school, or my Dad's Christmas Rocket, I like Christmas.
So, in the spirit of multiculturalism and not trying to spell the various end-of-year holidays, Merry Whatever.

PAINFUL DEATH!

Earlier tonight, I had misfortune of watching the trailer to the American version of Death At A Funeral. DEATH is definately the key word, while AT A FUNERAL are merely three sub-words to further emphasise DEATH.
I'd seen 500 Days Of Summer, I'd watched Family Guy, I'd read Looking For Alaska and Paper Towns and thought "hey, maybe the American entertainment industry isn't that bad!" Then they came out with their mutilation of Death At A Funeral and caused me to lose all faith in humanity.

God, I'm Brilliant!

No...seriously!

December 8th: I SAID HEY-OH!

December the 8th, 2009, may just go down in history as the greatest day ever. There is only one way it could have possibly been made better, and that is if when I got home, David Tennant was in the kitchen making waffles. An absurd hypothetical, you may say, but that's how good my day was.
Showcase:
I had my aaa showcase today. Everyone kicked some serious lower-back. Shoutouts to Mateuse, my scene partner who is MADE OF SUNSHINE.

But more importantly...
GREEN DAY:
Yes. I've now seen Green Day in concert. I've been waiting four years for this evening, and it finally occurred.
Billie Joe Armstrong (the frontman for all you noobs) exerted more energy in the first song alone than I've ever required in my entire life. He proves, without question, that the more successful and famous you become, the less justification you need for ADD. He bombarded the audience, between songs, with a super soaker, toilet paper and even a T-Shirt cannon, randomly covered snippets of songs, from Highway to Hell, to Stairway to Heaven, to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.
Now, here's an honest personal confession. The first time I ever heard American Idiot was also the first time I spontaneously air-guitarred. It then seemed only fitting that during American Idiot, Ayla (who has the credit of introducing me to Green Day, back in year 8) and I spontaneously air-guitarred. That was some damn fine air-guitarring.
Anyone who's seen Bullet in a Bible will agree that King For A Day is probably their most spectacular song. And yes, it was played, much to my enthusigasm (a word I made up which seems to have an effect). But no, it did not morph itself into Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. It morphed, after Shout of course, into several songs, including Hey Jude. Hey freaking Jude. Hey Jude has never been experienced until it is sung by thousands of people at a Green Day concert.
Something about me is that I tend to miss brilliant moments of things for one reason or another. But not this time. I have seen the ass of Billie Joe Armstrong. How many people can say that? Everyone who was at the concert, because he mooned the audience.
Before I faceplant into my keyboard, perhaps I should go to bed. Nighty night.

My cat is sitting on my jeans.

There is a small furry animal in my lap. Her name is Polly or Mini, depending on what everyone feels like calling her at the time, and she is steadily turning my black jeans white using her amazing shedding powers. She is also holding on to my arm, which means I'm forced to use my left arm, my non-dominant arm, for everything, because if I move my right arm too much, she'll bite it. I'd really like to get a drink, but I'm trapped under this cat. All 4 kilograms (approximately) of her is pinning me down. I've been sitting in this position so long that I have pins and needles all the way up my left leg, while my right leg has been in direct line of the fan for so long that it's probably freezing over.
I now know what it means to be whipped.

war, conspiracy and schizophrenia

I had an audition last night. As far as I'm concerned, I pwned the shit out of my monologue, although it won't be for two weeks until I find out if the auditioner(s) share my opinion.
My monologue was about Joan of Arc, and it got me thinking. One of the lines ("My voices were right. Yes: they told me you were fools...") made me realise that many prophets and people posessed by spirits (good and bad) in ancient times, from a modern point of view, would have had schizophrenia or epilepsy or multiple personality disorder. Talk about a dampener on the word of God.
But anyway, I was talking to my grandma on account of living with her, and she was talking about how, during the war they'd ration food and stuff. Now, this is totally understandable in Europe, because things like milk and cream and meat were being used by the army, but Grandma lived in New Zealand. Not only did they have shitloads of dairy products, but the war was on the other side of the world, where they couldn't ship these products because a) the refrigeration methods were ineffective and/or ludicrously expensive and b) international shipping had been stopped. Why, then, was food rationed in New Zealand?

Also, holy crap dude, the year 12s graduated yesterday, leaving the year 11s the seniors of the school. I am, for all practical purposes, in year 12 (though I won't officially be until next year). But the point is, good luck in the real world, however many year 12 readers I have.

Chris and Kris (alphabetically)

This is why Kris and Chris should blog more often.
Chris:
http://gottahaveanopinion.blogspot.com/2009/11/rewritten-twilight-short-story-by-chris.html
Kris:
http://lamehobo-indigochild.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-view-on-2012.html

They happened in exactly this order...

Discovery: "Oh hey, totally just found my pencil sharpener!"
Idea: "I shall now SHARPEN ALL MY PENCILS!"
Realisation: "All my sketching pencils are really stumpy and short..."
Realisation No. 2: "Because I suck at sharpening pencils."
Question: "Is it even physically possible to be this bad at sharpening pencils?"
Answer: "It must be, otherwise I'd be better at sharpening pencils."
Profanity: "Gosh darn these infernal pencils! The leads keep breaking!"
Revelation: "I should probably acquire more sketching pencils."

Chemistry

Today, I failed the chemistry exam. Failed with flying colours.
I failed because I didn't study. I didn't study because I didn't feel I needed to.
I didn't feel I needed to because a) year 11 doesn't count toward the OP and b) I'm not doing chem next year.
Now, one of the questions, I answered with a ramble about goblins and goblin book-club.
My mother and I were discussing this and she was most worried that this meant she'd have to talk to the teacher about it. Nice to know she's got her priorities in about the same order as me. But she figured she could test Mr Singh somehow. For example, wear a hat with a frog on it, and hide a button in her pocket that would make the frog croak whenever she saw fit.
Or bring in a small furry animal, for example a mole, beaver, cat or booby all for the same reason. ("Stop staring at my mole/beaver/pussy/boob").
And yes, there is a little too much chlorine in the old gene pool.

You misunderstand, you're a traitor to SCIENCE!

Watch this and you will understand why I feel so much joy in the following images.

Things.

There are three great loves of mine.
1. Doctor Who
2. Performing
3. Nerd jokes
This list doesn't include coffee, because that's just too obvious. I love coffee a bit too much, but it's kindof a catalyst to my awesomeness at point 2 on the list.
But as for nerd jokes, none are more satisfying than the sleazy pickup lines I thought of while doing a practice essay about how poetic devices position a reader to accept a dominant reading.
1. You must be a dominant reading, because I've been positioned to accept you.
2. You must be figurative language, because you're giving me mental images.
3. You can dominate my reading any day.
And yet, I can't get laid.

Why I love the internet

Today, I was going into my english class when I realised that somebody had written 'dumble' on the door. I was in a good mood for the rest of the day. MLIA
(http://mylifeisaverage.com/index.php?page=8)

Guess what's now number 72 on my Bucket List.

...que?

I have four pencil cases on my desk. They all have pencils in them. What gives!
WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY FREAKING PENCIL CASES!?!?!

Never been one for cliches

I got home on Thursday in a disproportionally good mood, so I thought maybe it hadn't hit me properly. So I tried some of the cliches, just in case. There wasn't any chocolate in the house, except for 70% Dark Chocolate, and after my experience with 100% dark, I can't bring myself within a 400 metre radius of the stuff, so I had a biscuit. But the thing is, I would've been eating Speculaas anyway, and there were only two left, so mostly, I was annoyed that there wasn't more Speculaas.
So I tried listening to some deep-as-all-fuck breakup songs. Unfortunately, I can't take any of these seriously, which is why I ended up listening to Tripod's That's why I'm Sending You... and then Oh! Darling from the Across the Universe soundtrack, before deciding that I would've been listening to those anyway, so I just added a bunch of other stuff to my On-The-Go playlist and left it at that.
There was exactly no photographic evidence of the two of us, so there were no poloroids to tear up symbolically, or desktop background to change, so that was out.
So now I'm doing the ultimate cliche, the blog. Except it's not an angry or sad or hateful or regretful blog. It's just a blog.

Now, before I sound totally callous, maybe I should recount the events of The Most Eventful Art Lesson Ever in the History of Ever. It started well enough, but then I had to break the news to Maddy and Claire, president and tresurer -respectively- of the Izzie-and-Alex fan club. Claire nearly fainted. And, thinking Maddy might kill me, I hid behind Reid. Now, it wasn't until Maddy started painting that I actually cried. Over-empathetic tears for Maddy is exactly it. I over-empathise with everyone, so emotional moments kind of get me. And I'm a drama nerd, so I can't resist symbolism. And Maddy being like a child whose parents had just divorced led to a good two minutes of tears from me and being at the centre of a half-art-class wide group hug (which I didn't participate much in).

I suppose the blog is to let my various stalkers know that I'm fine. And not the kind of fine where I'm actually dying on the inside and just want to be a martyr, actually properly fine. I have three states of being. Ridiculously Happy, Fine and Disasterous. Ridiculously Happy is usually in the presence of coffee or in the middle of a had-to-be-there moment and Disasterous is usually when everything seems...well...Disasterous. Now, there is no coffee and no major catastrophes have happened which would make me question the entire nature of the universe and what part I have to play and how to escape the 'Labyrinth' as García Márquez would put it then cursing myself for being so dramatic and pretentious. I am therefore Fine and of course we're still friends.
A great deal of yesterday was spent consoling people who were more upset than I was about something that happened to me. That's what you get for not being able to live up to the expectations of the melodramatic and the romantics.

Maybe I should end on something philosophical. Relationships may come and go, but friends are persistant bastards who stick around.

NaNoWriMo

Sup guys!
This year, amidst the stress and confusion of year 11, I'm going to be participating in NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month.
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/556040
That's my page.
Be my buddy!
I'll be writing stuff.

Oh, the glory of things.

There are two bands I've "discovered" over the past week who are awesome and deserve some serious checking out. Of course, by "discovered" I mean I've been linked to their websites by two different, yet very awesome people.

Streetlight Manifesto:
http://www.streetlightmanifesto.com/

Rocketsmiths:
http://www.rocketsmiths.com/

LISTEN TO THEIR MUSICAL AWESOME!

Anyway, it's term 4 now, which means it's that time of year again where Izzie gets annoyed. Mainly at the weather. I don't like humidity, I'm from Armidale, NSW where the humidity is at about -40% and the air turns to dust as you walk through and you have to take 3 baths in moisturiser every day...or at least you would if it weren't so freaking cold and the prospect of being nude in a cold bath is approximate to the idea of having all your vital organs slowly sneezed out of you, so instead you just crack as you walk.
Speaking of NSW, I'd like to point out how lucky it is that I don't care about sport, for you see, as a New South Welshman raised in Queensland, I get a mild twinge of internal conflict at State of Origin time, which would probably tear me apart if I gave a damn who won. But that doesn't stop me being smug every time it's NSW.
So, I suppose the only real reason I'm writing this blog is because I know I'll just get really angry in about 10 minutes if I start finishing (oooh....oxymoron? yes? no? maybe? lobster?) my Chem assignment. 10 minutes because that's the approximate amount of time until Grandma either bursts into my room or calls me on my phone to say that dinner's ready. I just need to fill the time until then. I also don't want to do my Chem assignment. Corrosion protection methods for steel-reinforced concrete is only slightly less tedious than reading the entire Twilight series cover to cover. Seriously, a friend asked me if I wanted to see New Moon when it comes out and I must have misheard, because what I heard was, "I'd like to torture both of us horribly." And another thing about New Moon, why does everyone think it's okay for Bella to develop schizophrenia? What part of IT'S A SERIOUS MEDICAL CONDITION don't those fangirls understand? Oh, she loves Edward, well that makes it totally okay to hear his voice and throw herself off a cliff just so she can see him, NO IT DOESN'T! Hasn't anyone seen that movie A Beautiful Mind? Remember when Russel Crowe tried to kill his wife and son because his imaginary roomate and his imaginary niece and that imaginary army dude told him to? Surprise ending, the Edward in Bella's head tells her to KILL EVERYONE AND EVERYONE DIES THEN ALL THE FANGIRLS FIND A PROPER BOOK TO READ. Oh, and sorry if I just spoiled the ending of A Beautiful Mind for you. Actually, that wasn't the ending, the ending was much more awesome, but I won't spoil it.
Disclaimer: Yes, I do own the entire Twilight series, yes, I have read the entire Twilight series, no I did not buy any of the books, they were all gifts from people who decided that I needed to read the entire Twilight series. But hey, I now have something to base my hatred on. MISUSE OF MY NAME! MISUSE OF MY NAME! (Yes there are people in the world who call me Bella rather than Izzie...in Italy, a dude at the gelati shop said 'Ciao Bella' and I was like "HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!!!" and I kindof felt like a twat.)
Hmm...the fan is blowing on my face, making the top half of my body really cold, but my feet are under a blanket (I'm on my bed) so they're really warm, but I've got a really good body temperature around the middle. Or maybe that's just because my laptop is resting on my knees. Oh well, I'm alarmingly comfortable, and that's what counts.
Anyway, I may have found the GREATEST COUCH EVER. It's on the verandah at my Mum's place. It's been there for two years and I've only just realised how magic it is. It's like someone's sewn a couch togther out of solidified awesome and it's come into my Mum's posession for some reason.
Well, I think that's enough of a ramble for now. Catcha next time I'm procrastinating.

English ass-ignment

Having finished my maths (see, I did do my maths) I now needed something to distract myself from English.
I figured sticking two pens in my mouth and webcamming my amazing hair would suffice.

Maths ass-ignment

Getitgetitgetit? Because I said 'ass.'
Anyway, I have a maths assignment due tomorrow and I don't really want to do the remaining 1/3 I have left, so I've been procrastinating.
Procrastination method #1: Bubbleshooter
Procrastination method #2: Created to-do list.
Procrastination method #3: Organised On-The-Go playlist.
Procrastination method #4: Cleaned the pool (which I would never do under normal circumstances).
Procrastination method #5: Checked emails
Procrastination method #6: Bubbleshooter
Procrastination method #7: Found hairspray and wax, styled hair until it was LUDICROUSLY MASSIVE.
Procrastination method #8: Searched for camera to document the BIGHAIR.
Procrastination method #9: Abandoned search for camera, Dailyboothed BIGHAIR.
Procrastination method #10: Unpacked the dishwasher.
Procrastination method #11: Lunch.
Procrastination method #12: Repacked dishwasher.
Procrastination method #13: This Blog.

Now I swear I'll do my maths assignment...no...seriously...I will...

Izzie's back.

Guess who's back.
Back again.
Izzie's back.
Tell a friend.
etc. etc. etc.
Anyways, I've been in EUROPE.
To be honest, I can't be stuffed to blog about it, knowing I'll vlog about it at some point.

In other news, I've written a song that I don't hate! This doesn't happen often, and usually when it does, I try to play it on guitar at which point I lose all faith in humanity. I haven't tried playing it yet because I've had no time, but I'll give it a stab and see how it goes. It's called "Nerdlike" because "Nerdfighterlike" wouldn't fit in the number of syllables I had. Also, it would make slightly more sense to people who aren't nerdfighters.

I'm also very tired right now, and feeling slightly odd. Maybe I'll go to bed. Nighty night.

London

It took me three tries to type that title.
I officially love it in London. It's always overcast (except for right now for some reason) and their monuments make Australia's look rather craptacular. And their eye kicks our ferris wheel wherever ferris wheels are traditionally kicked.

Sweet Jumping Jesus

It's 6:10 AM, I've just spent 8 hours on a plane watching How I Met Your Mother and trying to sleep, and now I've got 15 minutes of free internet at Singapore airport.
This rocks so hard.

the brain...it TWITCHES!

Just a quick update. Well, actually that was a lie. I have no idea how long this update is going to be, but get your read on anyway. LET ME FEEL THE LOVE!
It has now come to my attention that everything up until this sentence has sounded rather like the way Ziggy speaks. Which does kind of go in favour of Max's Izzie-and-Ziggy-Are-Actually-The-Same-Person theory.
But anyway. Since exam block I've just been a STRESS BUCKET! And I don't know why. YAY! It might have something to do with the fact that even though I have extentions for 3 assignments, I still have less time to do them than everybody else, but more on that later...But since Saturday when I was dragged to Gencon (Gaming convention...I'm not a gamer, but I had fun...no, I'm serious) I've managed to unwind and relax, just a little. Well, more than a little, the point where I actually laughed so hard I cried...in public...that was awkward.
Right! From this point on, there will be no more points of elipsis! (Point of elipsis = ...) (Except for that one, because it was an example).
Anyway, as far as the Ninjas vs. Pirates debate, I'm embarrassingly neutral. I've shifted from Ninjas to neutral, and now I really feel I should sway one way or the other.
See, ninjas can scale walls, but pirates have rum.
And ninjas have mad skillz with a sword, but pirates have rum.
And ninjas can sit still for about ten days longer than me, but pirates have rum.
Okay, so the rum is not the only reason for the neutrality, but it creates a sense of poetry. Wow, I totally just disclaimer'd my own reasoning.
And even though Saturday was International Talk Like a Pirate day, I didn't do as much talking like a pirate as I normally would have. Although, I did say "MIND CRUSH!" to the dude cosplaying as Yugi.
Anyway, the reason I needed extentions on various assignments is that in about 11 hours, I will be on a plane to EUROPE! I love my school right now. The Performing Arts Europe Tour is three weeks, going from London to Paris to Bonn to Saltzburg to Florence to Rome. I'm actually currently sitting amongst the stuff I have yet to ram into my suitcase and blindly hope that it's under 20 kilograms.
Well, did you enjoy my "quick update"? Of course you did! Toodles, I'll be back in three weeks...jetlagged off my face, but back!

The Graph of Awesome

So, I made that video ages ago, but here's the graph.
I put a lot of effort into this graph.
And I added the equations, because I'm a nerd.

Maths exam

25 minutes in: 25 minutes...but I've only done two questions!
30 minutes in: ooooookay...maybe I could pretend to faint...
40 minutes in: You know...it's probably not that difficult to tunnel out of here...
45 minutes in: If I crush my hand under the chair, I'll probably black out from the pain.
50 minutes in: That's it! I'm chewing off my foot!
End of exam: Oh...I just got pwned by maths...that's not encouraging...I'm blogging about this!

Just...Ugh.

The Queensland weather system is a phenomonon. Somehow, while the rest of the world is in its normal position, Queensland has positioned itself three-quarters of a mile from the surface of the sun. It may also be the only place on earth with a menopausal weather system.
I'm annoyed.

Gandalf, Liza and James

I totally saw Galdalf on the train today.
It was about 7:30 at night and I was on my way home from Acting, and at the Fortitude Valley stop, one stop away from Central. This dude got on the train, he was all well-maintained beard and insane hair and barefoot and coat. He had Galdalfesque staff-type-thing and a HUGE sack of potatoes. It was the potatoes that made me wonder. Like, where in the Valley can you get potatoes? He was pretty much the typical Fortitude-Valley-at-night type of dude, but with potatoes.
In other news, if you rearrange my name (my full name for those who know it) it ALMOST spells "alliance." Just replace the "C" with an "S" and you've got the dodgily spelt allianse.
In more news, the best song to burst in to in the locker room is officially "Mein Herr" from Cabaret. Yeah...my locker room outbursts would make Liza-With-A-Z spin in her grave if it weren't for the fact that she's actually alive. Yay, living!
I handed in two drafts today. English, which has been plagueing me since last term, and Chem, which has been plagueing me since about two weeks ago. So far, Chem was doing a better job of eating away at, unravelling and shit-kicking my brain and sanity. Yes, I have enough sanity left to be shit-kicked by a Chem assignment.
I've been doing a lot of complaining about that assignment, and the complaining will not stop until about next Friday, when I hand in the final copy. But that's not a guarantee.
And OH MY GOD! I finally completed number 23 in my list of life goals! That is, not killing James for a whole week.

The Bucket List

I haven't seen that movie. But I have a list. There are 71 points on this list, and I very nearly completed number 23, but was thwarted.
I've completed number 5, 10, 17 and 36, and I'm really freaking happy about those ones.
Number 23 is to go a whole week without trying to kill James. There was about 20 minutes left of lunch and I was leaning against a locker, and I began sliding down. James was leaning opposite me and began sliding, then said "Race ya." So of course I agreed. I won by the way. Our feet sortof met in the middle, and somehow he didn't realise that ALL MY WEIGHT was rested on his feet, and if anyone, he should've realised that...physics and all that...anyway. He stood up. The bastard stood up. And I fell on my arse. So action needed to be taken, and in the great Izzie-and-James tradition, I ended up in more pain than he did. It's not my fault, he just keeps defending himself.
So yeah, I'll try for number 23 again next week...

I'm so proud of my grandma...

...she made a sus joke =].

I got the smartass award

Otherwise known as a Cum Laude award...it means something in latin, I dunno. Basically, it means I got overall As in two subjects and didn't fail any. Although, it did mean (as I was being presented and stuff) that I had to wear the stockings rather than the socks. And these stockings had some serious ladders going on. How many "Stairway to Heaven" jokes were made? Heaps. But who cares, because I got FREE FOOD!! There was a morning tea for the students and parents of students who got these awards and they had the AWESOMEST LITTLE CUPCAKES!!! And caramel tarts. Work hard, get good grades, get free food. It's a good cycle.
Anyway, enough about how brilliant I am.
There are 5 tins of sweet corn soup in the cupboard. I'm the only one in the house who will a) eat soup from a tin and b) eat sweet corn soup. Now, there are some who say you don't eat soup, but shut up, it's chunky. So, obviously someone's gone "HOLY BOLLOCKS!!! ISOBELLA LIKES SWEET CORN SOUP!!!" and went mental in a soup-acquiring rampage....well, a five-tin rampage. This happens every time a family member of mine notices that I like a certain food. Which makes me go off the food, because there's TOO BLOODY MUCH OF IT!! Still, I wonder why nobody gets tomato soup any more. Oh right, because somehow blenderized tomato is a fantastic substitute. It isn't. But hey...anyone want sweet corn soup?

Wellington Mandolin Orchestra.

If I could meet anyone, I'd meet my Grandad, Daniel Jansse. I never did meet him, he died before I was born, but he sounds like such a cool old dude.
For example, he was in a band. He played guitar in the Wellington Mandolin Orchestra.

of squids and beards

I've recently realised exactly why I love my friends so much.
The reason requires a preamble, so here it is.
As a girl, I lack the ability to grow a beard. I don't particularly want to grow a beard, because I've always thought that blond beards are a bit odd. But the thing is, I would like a beard that I could grow when I need something to stroke while thinking, when I was finished stroking the beard, it would recede back into my face...sunday lunch continues.
Now, upon talking to Ziggy, we concluded that a Davey Jones-style squidbeard would be awesome, because it would stroke itself, leaving your hands free to do other stuff, like crab claws. The end result would look something like this.

And that's the reason my friends are my friends. Not just because they're nice people, because we have similar taste in music or television, not just because we get along pretty freaking well. My friends are my friends because they have the attention span and patience to put up with the ramblings of a girl who wants to grow a squid out of her face.

Television...

So, I caught the tail-end of one of those hideously predictable dating programmes, the part where the guy and the girl had decided to go on the date and they were doing their little siloques to the camera.

He said:
"I'm not entirely sure I've made the right, but only the date will tell."

She said:
"I haven't told him I've got a daughter, and some men are afraid of that kind of commitment."

So yeah, I bet that date went well.

You miss me?

I've been on camp with my acting school for six days.
So yeah...not an awful lot of sleep happened...
I did film a video with Max though, I'm editing it now, it should appear soon...

BEDHWP #14: I'm getting sick of these

Yep, real sick of them.
So this is going to be my last BEDHWP post, so if I post one tomorrow, it's not BEDHWP, it's just a blog. Also, I won't be able to post them all next week, because I'll be at Acting Academy camp, which I'm rather excited about.
Now, after all the bitching and moaning I did about year 11 camp, I may be causing some confusion. Now, school camps are just dire for me, mostly because of the fact that one night usually takes place in a tent. Now, Acting Academy camp, I actually opted to go to, also, there are no tents and lots of actual-fun stuff, not school-camp-thinks-its-fun stuff.
Now, today was a lot of fun. I spent the whole day hanging out at South Bank with Kris, instead of seeing a movie. An awesome day. The number of children we considered throwing in nearby water reached record heights.

BEDHWP #14: beads and feathers

Yeeeaaaaaahhhhhh.
That's pretty much what I bought today. I was trying to find stuff for my costume for the Extended Improv night at Acting Academy Camp. I'm not going to explain it in full, but basically I'm a futuristic Icelandic Viking. So naturally I got beads and feather boas, wouldn't you?
And personally, I think that the person behind the counter took it rather well, considering that some bespectacled individual appeared at the counter, bought two feather boas and a bollockload of beads, then said, "It's a long story, but this isn't as weird as it looks."
The look she gave me said, "Yeah, it *is* as weird as it looks."

BEDHWP #13: dredlocks

As I write this blog, I'm watching Black Books, which means that I WIN AT LIFE!!!
And I'm also waiting for someone to come on MSN. Grr.
Anyway. My cat has a dredlock. A single dredlock in her fur somehow. My only guess is that she's been getting high with the hippie cats up the street.
And here's a picture now.

BEDHWP #12: mrrrrrr......

Didn't do much today. Slept in properly for the first time in ages.
Yay.

BEDHWP #11: bacon, coffee and John Green

First things first, John Green's last video says everything I've ever wanted to shout at a YouTube hater.
Also, I wrote a song. That's right, another one. It's on the interwebs now. See it, love it, stalk it, etc it. Now, I'm writing a lot of songs. As in, more than the exact zero I used to. And I think this is because I abandoned seriousness when writing, because my serious songs were always really crap. But I'm considering (when I get a heap more subscribers of course) making a second, totally music channel. Called something like izziesmagicalmusic or izziessexytunes or bellacoustic or something along the lines. Although, I doubt that'll happen unless enough people kick up a fuss. Dear readers, please don't kick up a fuss just because I said that.
So, my dad got a very interesting tea today. I can't remember what it's called, suffice it to say that the name is tricky to pronounce. But the thing is, I haven't tried it for one reason, and one reason only. The smell. It smells like bacon. That's right. Bacon. I was creeped out by this, because really, only bacon should smell like bacon.
And yes, I'm completely aware that I discussed points in the exact opposite order than the title would suggest. That began unintentional, but then I was like "I can't say the bacon thing before the coffee thing now!!" so it became backwards.

BEDHWP #10: mrrrrwwrroooorrrwwww

I'm actually not sure what I typed in the title there, perhaps a sort of growling sound?
I didn't do a great deal today. Although, I did go to GoMA (Gallery of Modern Art) which was pretty cool. Mostly to listen to my dad ranting about what is and isn't art.
I saw an episode of the Australian Top Gear, and I think it's a bit rubbish. It just follows the same formula of the British Top Gear. IT'S BEEN DONE! THEY'RE DOING IT WELL! STOP TRYING TO BE THEM!!!
And I also drank some expired fizzy drink. I didn't think fizzy drink expiry dates are really for paying attention to, but I'm feeling a bit sick right now. Wouldn't reccommend month-and-a-bit-expired Sprite Zero.
But then again, I wouldn't reccommend Sprite Zero.

BEDHWP #9: drawing, reading, flying and meowing

That's pretty much all I did today.
I drew 21 small pictures into like a mini-artist's book (anyone who didn't do art in term 1 will have no idea what I'm talking about, suffice it to say it's a book, that's not a book, but it is a book to the artist...yep...that's about it...) which, I must say, is completely awesome...in an insane way...
I also finished reading Paper Towns. Which is A COMPLETELY MADE-OF-AWESOME NOVEL AND I LOVE IT!!! And I'm not just saying that because as a Nerdfighter, I'm contractually obliged to.
I also started and finished reading Leah Purcell's one-woman play, Box The Pony for drama. And it's a really brilliant play. With a sad ending.
I also went to my cousins' place and we flew some remote-controlled helicopters. That was fun. They all crashed rather spectacularly.
And I saw Danni where she works. I greeted her with a meow, which frightened her, and confused the hell out of the customer she was serving.
Yeah, good day.

BEDHWP #8: BLARGH!

Yeah, I did very little today.
But here we have quite possibly the greatest ever Izzie-And-Ayla-Are-Bored invention.

BEDHWP #7: The Hangover

I saw The Hangover today. A damn good movie.
Also, my friends and I confirmed something long suspected.
THERE IS NOTHING TO DO AT HYPERDOME!!!
There is a cinema, but once the movie ends, there's froghurt, chips and coffee and not much else.
I also got a heap of music. Including two Monty Python albums. Yay.
That's about all I have to say at the moment, but here's the best picture I've found in a while.

BEDHWP #6: cars, tigers and Dylan Moran.

BLARGH!!
Yep, that was an introductory statement.
Shut up.
Anyways, on with the blog.
It took me four tries to type "blog," the first was "blob," then, "bloh," then, "blof." I did then hit the g. And on each of those attempted misspellings, I did the correct spelling on the first try. I can't win.
So, in the car on the way to my dad's place, we passed a hummer. Yes, a hummer. A stupid great vehicle. And it was red. Now, the driver was not only on red P-Plates, but seemed unable to locate the indicator. And in this confusion, when reaching a red light, inched forward about five times in hopes that he somehow controlled the trafficlights by how big his car was, and how enormous he wanted the world to know his cock was. The whole scene was one of forboding, that kind of thing should never exist under any circumstances.
So, dad and I decided to get coffee, because that's what you do when you live in central-brisbane-10th-storey flat. And, on the way to coffee, we passed the Brisbane Polo Club. We had a look through the door, and, on the floor was a tiger rug. A real tiger rug. I've never actually seen a taxidermy rug before, and it's a sight to behold. Seriously, did someone just own the thing and decide to put in on the floor in what I hope was irony? Or did a tiger just wander in and was unfortunate enough to be shot and taxidermied. All the way home, dad and I thought out loud that this kind of interaction had occurred:
Tiger: *wanders into polo club*
Sir Abernathy Porpington-Smith Jnr. The Third: By jove! A tiger! *shoots tiger*
Sir Tompkinson Trumpetwaffle-Jones The Somethingth: What the blazes, old chap? Did you just shoot that tiger?
Sir Abernathy Porpington-Smith Jnr. The Third: I think a more important question would be, "What exactly is a tiger doing in a high-end Brisbane Polo Club?"
Sir Tompkinson Trumpetwaffle-Jones The Somethingth: Suppose we'd better taxidermy the poor sod.

Yes, I do like scripting hypothetical interactions.
I also watched a Dylan Moran live DVD (Like, Totally......that was the name of the show, and not just a random outburst) and it is hilarious. But the same thing happened to me that usually happens when I watch Black Books, I begin thinking in the Dylan Moran voice. I suddenly think like I'm Irish and drunk. This does tend to wear off after a while, but I do know someone who seems permanantly in the Dylan Moran vortex. Like a younger, skinnier version of Moran himself. I call it the Moran Complex. Someone watches so much Moran, that he himself becomes a demi-Moran. Or, he was just always like that. Come to think of it, he's sortof like a Moran-cross-Roy (from The IT Crowd). I know a grand total of two people who are definately someone else. They're both 16 and Australian, but I don't care what anyone says, one's 30 and Irish, and the other is 50 and English. Me, I'm probably 200 and from outer space, unless anyone has any other suggestions. That's right, this is the first ever Izzie-Blog that requires interaction. I'm 16 and Australian, but WHAT AGE AM I AND WHERE AM I FROM?!?!?!

BEDHWP #5: movies

Yep, it's finally happened.
I saw V For Vendetta.
And I must say, it's freakin' awesome.
Yeah, movie day at a friend's, which we've been planning for a while, and the list of movies meant it would have turned from a movie day into a movie weekend into a movie week into a movie year into a movie lifetime. So the list was abridged to four. And of these four, we watched one, and also one that wasn't on the final list.
But hey, they were good movies.
For those interested, the other movie was The Big Lebowski.
And that sentence was redundant, because by the time you realise that you weren't interested, it was too late, you'd already read the sentence.
Muahahahahahahahahahahaha.
And, for your entertainment, here's a clip I've been laughing rather a lot at.

BEDHWP #4: videos, cars, shennanigans and misadventures

Well, wasn't today interesting.
I was home alone, so hey, it was SHENNANIGAN TIME!!
I filmed two videos, one mine, and one for a collab vid, in this one I ended up with purple paint all over my face, which was odd at best. Usually, paint ends up at least on my arms, if not on my face and in my hair during art, but never on purpose.
But when my mum and grandma actually got home, my mum's car broke down. That's right, the volvomobile may have terrified shitless its last cyclist. So, because it stopped, we/I had to push-start it so that mum could attempt to roll-start it down the driveway. I say we/I because I'm not sure excactly how much pushing my grandma was doing. Eventually, we decided to tow it. Which was an interesting concept, because it was volvomobile (1989 Volvo 240...brick with wheels) vs Toyota corolla. My money was on the volvomobile. First attempt was a failure, what with the rope snapping, then firmly attatching itself to the volvomobile's towing-knob-thingey (I don't know what it's called) what with having just had two tonnes of force pull it very tight.
We gave up and will try again tomorrow.

BEDHWP #3: Shoop-boop-shoopity-doop.

Yeah, I defaulted to my "I don't know what to title this motherfudger" title. It is actually from somewhere. There is one person who might be able to guess where, but I doubt that even he could guess.
Anyways, on with the blog.
Mostly I sat around today. Nothing was on TV, which was annoying.
I actually cooked food tonight. Just for me, so nobody else had to suffer through it, it's too salty and undercooked at best, but hey, it's food, and I cooked it.
That's about all I have to say, but hey, if you enjoyed this blog half as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I enjoyed this blog twice as much as you. Hahaha.

BEDHWP #2: T.E.D.

I had an awesome day. Like, really freakin' awesome day. Why? Because today was T.E.D. (Theatre Experience Day). And because I'm a big, badass senior extention 2 badass, this means that it was the Improv Showcase.
Now, I haven't been like, properly excited about anything in ages, but I was freakin' excited about this.
I also watched all the regular classes in their self-devised-scripted-pieces that they do, and had a proud moment at South Brisbane Senior Saturday, in remembering that just last year, I was one of them, and they did me proud. Seriously, all the regular classes did REALLY FREAKIN' WELL, because they pwn at stuff.
And I have never seen as much fake-kissing as I did in the Senior Extention 1 performances. Seriously. They were all hilarious, heavily accented and probably a little bit horny. But that's pretty much to be expected somehow.
If there was one thing I could change, it would be that I'd actually get to see Senior Extention 2 Monday. But I only caught the last few minutes because Senior Extention 2 Friday (me!) had to warm up and stuff. But I'm sure they were awesome.
Now, my class, we freakin' pwned! In my scene, I actually cried, which I'm enormously proud/smug about. Not only that, but I turned crying about dying of cancer into a rant about Twilight, which included the line, "and the glitter skin? OMG! I'M SO PRETTY AND SO UGLY AT THE SAME TIME!!!" And some of my many many many favourite moments were a) Sam's shuffle/falling down; b) Odelle(sp?) swallowing a joint/cigarette/bong/daffodil/whatever it was at that point in the scene; c) Cameron's line, "should've had sons..."
What I caught of Ext. 3 was very very awesome, there were some really awesome scenes there.

And now all that's left to do is stay up late for no reason.

BEDHWP #1: Ready for this?

Welcome to BEDHWP. I didn't do Maureen Johnstone's invention of BEDA (Blog Every Day in April), so I'll have a stab at Liiv7's invention of BEDHWP (Blog Every Day of the Holidays Where Possible). And this means that you'll have to put up with my crap ON A NEAR-DAILY BAISIS!!!
Starting today.
(the other blog I posted today wasn't part of BEDHWP)
I saw Angels and Demons today, finally. It was a pretty good movie, with a rather important message: don't fuck with the catholic church or science.
And there are a few too many interruptions to the typing of this blog...like emails...and food...and conversations, so I'll end it right about here-->.

the funniest thing I've seen in a while...

I don't less-than-three things.
But I less-than-three Avatar.

blllaaaarrrrrgh! MAAADDDDDNEEEESSSSSS!!!

So, it was the semi formal last night. That was actually more fun than I expected. I've been talking about not talking about it since January, and it actually happened.
I'm proud of myself on account of only jabbing myself in the eye with the mascara twice. YAY!
Now, all through the night (apart from putting the folded-paper-napkin-hat-thingeys on my head as a hat, because I'm cool like that) there were two things that I wanted to do/happen. One of them, I did. That was, speak after inhaling helium. Helium is officially the most fun thing to inhale. EVER.
The other thing didn't happen, and that was, line up all the girls with bad fake tans (lol, orange) and make them do the oompa-loompa dance. Somehow, that was difficult to arrange...and also, to get the full effect, the green hair would have been necessary...but hey, I can still lol.
If I had a good picture of the dress, I'd put it about here, but I don't have a picture that captures the COMPLETE AWESOMENESS of it. But there should be pictures done by the professional-picture-dudes put up on the professional-picture-dude website, so yeah, I'll have those at some point. Does anyone want to see the awesomeness of the dress? The skirt was AWESOME when I twirled. So awesome, in fact, that my Cha-Cha-Dance-Person-Dude would randomly say, "okay, TWIRL!" every now and then and I was like "AAGH! okay...*twirls*"

So, in other news, I feel like something's missing from my life. Is it the ultimate hair product? The love of - (AAGH! NO! MADDY! GET OUT OF MY BLOG!!! ART LESSONS MAY NOT BE IMMUNE TO YOUR PERSISTENCE AND OUTRIGHT FREAKING TENACITY ON A CERTAIN MATTER, BUT MY BLOG IS A SACRED PLACE OF IZZIE-NESS!!!)*? The imagination to form a proper list of examples?
What am I missing presently?
THEME MUSIC!
Damnit, I want theme music for my videos. Something awesome and original, not just the charlieissocoollike ripoff I was experimenting with last time I attacked my brainbox to squeeze out some deliscious theme-music-juice.
So...err...I suppose I'll get back to you on that...
This has been a very I'll-get-back-to-you-like blog, but hey, it even has a footnote. How about that.
But randomly now, you know what I love about my school? Gratuitous amounts of holidays. Three weeks off now. Three weeks. That's the first time since year 9 that I've had more time off than my cousin Michael (all through primary school I used to get more holidays than him, and now his school gets more time off than mine...grr...). Three weeks to sit on my arse and be all snooty and private-schooley. And yeah...maybe I'll read a book or something.



*there are very few people who will fully appreciate/understand this reference, to be honest, I just needed an example...shut up...and yes, I am aware of the irony...

Stephen Fry

So my stepmum just told me about a revelation she had.
Fry from Futurama.
THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS TO STEPHEN FRY IN THE FUTURE!!!
Oh my god, that's seriously awesome.

el GASP! a blog with pictures!

Today, I made every lesson an art lesson.
Including Art.
During maths, I suddenly became 8 years old again.


Then in Chemistry, I drew this.

Note the addition from Zac.
Then in English, Ayla made her addition. Shut up, that counts.

My next masterpiece came about during House Group, and if you don't go to my school, then you won't know what house group is. Alternately, if you do, but you're younger than year 10, it's like PC but funner.


Then art was art, so it didn't need my help to become art.

fears...

So, today I confronted two fears.
The first being my stepmum's car. It's a manual, no air conditioning, no power steering, an odd smell (not a bad smell, just interesting), most of the doors don't work properly and the windows go up and down whenever they damn well please.
I drove it today. Now, I've never driven a manual before, and well, Lisa's car probably isn't the best to start with. But a worse one to start with would be my mum's car. With that one, you have to have been driving it for 14 years in order to gradually learn to compensate with the car's gradual decline. Don't get me wrong, it's an awesome car, people run away and/or shit themselves whenever they see the big red volvomobile roaring along. I didn't even drive for the full hour, I couldn't stand more than 20 minutes.
The other one being makeup. The buying, application and wearing of makeup. It completely terrifies me. It scares me more than going to the dentist, and I usually end up humming the Darth Vader music there. Now, the first time someone had to put makeup on my face, they began to call me the Phantom Blinker. Now, the thing is, she was sticking a pencil in my eye. If someone ever offers to do eyeliner for you, DON'T LET THEM! So, my mum practically dragged me into Myer to find all that face-stuff for the semi formal on thursday, and I had one rule, it's not going on my face until the semi formal. This rule was broken almost immediately. I don't know what number my skin tone is, but that was a question fired at me immediately.
So, all the stuff was on my face, which I just couldn't hide. The eyes I could deal with, but the rest, all that lipsick and blush, I couldn't look at myself, nor could I allow myself to be seen. And yes, I know I'll have to put up with it on Thursday, but really, it's a bit much for just being in Hyperdome (otherwise known as Hyperhole, Bogandome and Boganhole). So, after about half an hour of awkwardly looking at my feet, I dove into a bathroom and got the worst of it off my face, at which point, I could go out in public again, just.

Anyway, in other news, the milk-steamer on the coffee machine works again, so wew.

I'm determined to post this blog!

By which I mean, I've gotten into the habit of randomly typing blogs then not posting them, so this one BETTER BE INTERESTING because I've promised myself that I'll post it.
So this past week I've been freaking the hell out. Mostly because I've had exactly this week to teach myself chem and maths, which I kindof did. And kindof played guitar instead of doing. And kindof freaked the hell out about and just sortof crashed and burned during the exams of.
Not so much crashed and burned, but I did learn the Circle Of Love (Unit Circle) and the Sexy Triangles (as Jonno calls them) the morning of the exam. Well, I learned them before, but I only cemented them into my brain and figured out how to use the bastards on the morning of the exam, yippee. Still, it's better than one class, their teacher didn't even TEACH her class the Circle Of Love and the Sexy Triangles. Seriously, the whole freaking exam was about the Circle Of Love and the Sexy Triangles.I then proceeded to finish my art assignment, which I'm rather proud of. It's the first time I've ever used a big-ass canvas, and I think it went pretty well.
Then on Wednesday, after writing four pages worth of English essay exam, I poked James until he taught me all the chemistry I had to know. I was annoyed on the exam that they had more stiochiometry questions than gas law questions. Seriously, is it that difficult to say "there's gas in a balloon, it inflates, what's the temperature, bitches!" except in a more chem-exam type of way.
So, this morning I had the chem exam, and halfway through I was completely disheartened and just wanted to give up and go home. Part of this was the exam, part of this was someone I'm a little bit kindof associated with before the exam saying "seriously, Izzie, if you get a higher mark on this exam than me, I'll be surprised, I mean come on." Anyone who has actually seen me furious before will know that it's not a pretty sight. And they will also know how close I came to actually attempting to tear her head off. It didn't help that queensland's win over NSW at Origin last night was then rubbed thoroughly into my face. I mean THOROUGHLY. I'd like to point out that calling us New South Welshies cockroaches is appaulingly incorrect. I lived in a small country town of NSW and only ever saw cockroaches at the post office at night. They were probably being posted from queensland...
Also, DISCLAIMER, which I tend to do a lot of, I don't care about Origin, mostly I'm pissed at all the pro-queensland crap the teachers do, along with the students. All of Mr Foster's emails have ended with "GO QUEENSLAND" for the past x-amount-of-emails, and there was a shrine set up to worship the Maroon flag. When I was in year 6, I had to keep my head down. I was a closeted NSW supporter, simply because all the blues supporters got double homework on origin nights (and triple if they won).
Anyway, enough of this topic.
Because I have no exams tomorrow, and it's the queen's birthday on monday, I've got a 4-day weekend. HOORAY! That's probably a good thing, because I've got so much sleep to catch up on. Seriously, I think the last two weeks of nervous energy has just hit me with a steamroller. At the moment I feel like I've been mauled by Jesus. Although, I am eating Applesauce, so that's definately a good thing.
There is, however, an event looming ever closer that I'm not looking forward to. Year 11 camp. Grr. It's mostly the first night I'm dreading. Camping. In tents. My mortal enemy. Other than that, it'll be four days of freezing my ass off while drowning in leeches and teamwork. My other two mortal enemies. Although, since I'm a regular visitor to the sickbay (diabetes stuff), I had a conversation with the nurse about it. Basically I was saying how I'm great at controlling my blood sugar and I've got it all good and stuff and there's not likely to be a massive-ass emergency or something. I then stepped outside and proceeded to commence the eating of a big-ass muffin. Ironic hilarity ensued.
Here's a comic I drawed.

Also, a habit I've gotten into (which I stole from xkcd) is whenever I hear [adjective]-ass [noun] I mentally move the hyphen over one word. Like sweet ass-car or huge ass-slice of cheesecake.
byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

something I learned during yesterday's maths exam

If a question is ridiculously hard. Like, it makes NO sense AT ALL.
Glaring at it angrily doesn't help.
I gave that question the frowning of a lifetime, and it didn't get easier.

my head says B but my heart says C

So, driving along today, and there were these people walking on the road. Like COMPLETELY BLOODY ON THE ROAD. Not just a little bit.
My mum said there are three options for this situation.
a) Run the over.
b) Go around them.
c) Come up behind them, honk the horn and watch them shit themselves.

Neutralface =|

This weekend, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and not much stuff I should be doing (like learning those songs for Music assessment...or guitar ensemble...or revising Chemistry...and maths...or doing my art assignment...you get the idea).
Anyway, I've been doing some thinking about some things, which is an ambiguous way to begin, but I will type them in this blog, so it's not just a gloat about the fact that through all the insanity, my brain actually does work.
It's coming up to Yule at the moment (or Midsummer in the Northern Hemisphere), which actually makes me feel a bit guilty. Guilty because I had to google it, rather than those three years where I could actually remember all the Wiccan Sabbats (I tried out Wicca for a few years, but kindof stopped, but I still wear my pentagram sometimes). But what's pretty nifty is that the Acting Academy Improv Showcase (or Theatre Experience Day for the regular classes...yay extention stream!) is on Yule (June 21st). So that will be nifty.
Another thing I've been thinking about is how I might be a bad friend. And a bad cousin...and daughter...
This is because I couldn't go to someone's school play, which I really wanted to go to, ever since he told me he'd auditioned. I actually cried when I saw that I even put it in my calendar, but couldn't go. But paradoxically, I was being a good cousin and student in order to be a bad friend. Now, I shouldn't think like this, I know, but I do feel kindof horrible. I also feel horrible about how apathetic I'm getting on MSN. And then if course, there's the friend who I've been treating as more of a pet than a friend, and the realisation of this made me feel completely terrible.
I've also realised that it seems physically impossible for me to really express my feelings. It feels wrong to blog incessantly about unrequited love and anxiety and things I actually feel rather than stuff that passes through my mind and I think is funny. It's just not in my nature to be like that. Subconsciously I seem to block anything that might put anyone else in a bad mood or even empathise with me on a human level, and I simply hate it when people worry about me. When I tell people not to worry about me, I REALLY BLOODY MEAN IT!
All this tension and stuff is forming itself into further insanity. This is evident at the song I wrote yesterday, and will hopefully record some time tonight.
But on the plus side of things, my singing teacher told me my voice is "damn fine," which is interesting phrasing-wise, but I was glad for the compliment anyway. (happyface)
And also, I've been making my comics more often, which is DEFINATELY a good sign, since I only stopped making them because I was a bit depressed. I've even got a logo for the site I'll hopefully be setting up at some point.
Well anyway, proper blogs soon.
Seeeeeeeeeeeeeya.

duets

If you happen to know all the words to a song..
And one of your friends happens to also know all the words...
And you suddenly find yourselves in a duet...
This probably isn't the best song.

okay...what?

I've been invited to FOUR Twilight-related groups on Facebook.
All of these invitations were sent by one person.
All of these groups I've refused to join.
One was just called Twilight, except it had a bunch of random embellishments to go with it (.>-_`~) which somehow made it distinct from all the other fangirl-made Twilight groups.
Another was "1,000,000 Strong To Publish Midnight Sun." For those who don't know, Midnight Sun is the next book in the series, which is essentially the first book written from Edward's perspective for some reason. The draft was leaked on the internet, and Stephanie Meyer got all annoyed and said "Right, if that's how you feel, no Midnight Sun for you." Now, I'd join this group JUST TO SHUT THE FANGIRLS UP. But I didn't, because I simply don't have time to go about explaining this to people, also, if Stephanie Meyer got over herself and let the book get published, it wouldn't shut the fangirls up, it'd just give them something new to endlessly talk shit about.
"Because I Love Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn" was the most tortured. Seriously, it was this point where I began losing faith in humanity, considering so many supurfluous Twilight groups could be made. And honestly, if you join a group called "Twilight" it's pretty obvious that you rather like the freaking series. COME ON! THIS POINT DOES NOT NEED TO BE ELABORATED.
Lastly and most simply, "Alice Cullen." A simple title, but a page that, I think, could require some further explaination, or could possibly serve a greater purpose as a fan page. What, pray, is the point of a group simply called "Alice Cullen." Surely, "People Who Rather Like Alice Cullen" would be a better title. Or are they simply trying to assume the identity of Alice, which is the most completely bizzare reason to join a group...and surely there are more convincing, elaborate and creepy ways to assume the identity of a fictional character.
And, just so I don't end on a rant, I'd have to say the best two Twilight ripoffs are this one and this one.

Formal Friday

So, at my school they've introduced a new thing. This is called "Formal Friday."
Essentially, every Friday, we have to wear the formal uniform, along with wearing the blazer to every class. Now, I do this most days anyway, so it's not really a big deal.
Except for one thing.
Stockings.
Try as I might, I just can't make them last for more than a day. In fact, no, there is one pair of stockings I've made last for more than a day.
This pair is bright purple.
And somehow I don't think I'll get away with them.

a function of insanity

y=mx+c
m=number of days since I last washed my hair
x=number of bobby pins at my disposal
c=camera
at the moment, y=this

As if we needed further proof...

So, I do tend to over-think some things. And I also tend to under-think on occasion...not very often...but usually I think at just the right level for me, which some think is too much, but anyway, on with the blog.
One such occasion (over-thinking) occurred in the girls' bathroom at school. I was overhearing one of those conversations, you know the ones, "oh my god, I'm so fat!" "you're not fat! I am!" "you're not fat, if you're fat, I'm obese!"
The kind of conversations that only impossibly skinny girls have.
Of course, there was something I desperately wanted to say to them, which of course, I didn't, because with their limited brain capacity, it probably would have broken their minds and taken away their only conversation topic. Also, it'd be creepy if I were having a conversation and some bespectacled nerd burst forth from a cubicle to deliver a message that picked holes in every aspect of the conversation I was having.
The thing I wanted to say was this:
Now, look. You know it, I know it, the whole freaking school knows it. You two are skinny. Impossibly so. You walk the corridors leaving waves of envy, so to hear you have this conversation is like watching the "Fires In Pompeii" episode of Doctor Who, it should never have happened. Also, just step back for a moment and try to figure out what exactly you are trying to achieve by having this conversation. Clearly you don't have your objectives in order, or you wouldn't be speaking right now, and I wouldn't be interrupting. Do you want the other person to simply say "yeah, you're fat and horrible and I'm skinny and gorgeous and my life is perfect because of it," or are you just stuck in a loop and need someone to press Ctrl+Alt+Delete? Now, perhaps instead of having this conversation, we could all just go our separate ways, and why don't you two go to the tuckshop and get yourselves a muffin each, as it seems you're both fairly malnourished and desperately in need of some carbohydrate. Thank you and good day.

now with 20% more calcium! okay, that was a lie...

It's probably not a good thing to lie in the title of a blog.
Anyway.
Loseryness is not a state of mind. It is not about what movies you watch or how many hours playing WOW you've done or how many elements of the periodic table you can recite (I'm up to 25). Loseryness can be defined by one thing that happened to me and someone else (ooooh, ambiguity) yesterday.
We were teased by a librarian.
That's right.
TEASED BY A LIBRARIAN!
I'll just give you a moment to let that completley sink in.




Okay, moment's over.





Please note, that I'm not saying the other person involved is a loser. It was just for poetic effect.

Smug!

This is pretty much the awesomest thing I did today (apart from having a massive epiphany about my maths assignment).
I fixed my old iPod shuffle!
Now, this is only remarkable for two reasons:
1. I'm bad at computers.
2. It was my dad who broke it in the first place.
See, the company he used to work at gave him a free shuffle for some reason, but he couldn't make it work, so he made it work in some really odd way, which involves NOT WORKING AT ALL! Okay, so it worked for a bit, but then died hideously. Anyway. He gave it to me in the hopes that I'd be better at it. For a long time, it remained broken, but today I fixed it.
I'm not sure how.
But I did.
Now, even though I have an iPod touch (which I love), that isn't going to stop me being enormously smug about fixing this, which I doubt will be particularly useful...ever...but hey! I fixed it!

Gas Laws

So, I'm doing my chemistry homework, and I couldn't help but notice something. You see, I've just written out three pages of gas laws and their explainations, and when I got to Kinetic Molecular Theory, I noticed that it sounded like it'd be said by a dramatic voice-over at the start of a conspiracy movie while blurred footage of a crowded city appeared on a screen.
1. All particles are in continuous, random motion.
2. The volume of individual particles is zero.
3. Collisions of particles with container walls cause pressure exerted by gas.
4. Particles exert no forces on each other.Average kinetic energy is directly proportional to the temperature of a gas.

Insert here, laboratory building and people in lab coats, Badass Villian Dude in a suit and patent leather shoes walking purposefully down a blueish corridor while people walk to and from rooms, carefully avoiding him, his assistant follows him with a clip board.
Badass Villian Dude enters office, while assistant pours drinks. Mr Other Faceless Villian sits opposite him and takes a drink.
"How much do you want for it?" asks Mr Other Faceless Villian.
"You see, Mr Other Faceless Villian, the formula is not for sale. I'm terribly sorry, but you've come all this way for nothing," replies Bald Man, voice dripping with sexy badassedness.
"Badass Villian Dude, you're making a huge mistake, I've got some powerful friends," Mr Other Faceless Villian begins to lose his temper. Close-up on his sweating forehead.
"Well, Mr Other Faceless Villian, let's see your friends save you now,"
"Excuse me, Badass Villian Dude?"
Close-up on calm-but-evil eyes of Badass Villian Dude, cut to close-up of panicked eyes of Mr Other Faceless Villian, close-up of Mr Faceless Other Villian's hands gripping the arms of his chair, then of him swallowing nervously. He looks at his drink, and, realising he's been poisoned, begins choking and sputtering, grasping his throat. He falls out of his chair and on to the floor, dead.
Badass Villian Dude presses a button under his desk, Faceless Henchmen One and Two come in and drag out the body of Mr Other Faceless Villian. Badass Villian Dude, unfazed, stands up and goes to the large window and stares down at the city. Cut to black, title appears:
Lone Badass Kicks The Ass Of An Evil Organisation 2: Return of the Revenge, With Avengance!!!

just saying

Am I not allowed to have completely good days? Like, totally and completely awesome with no unawesome? It doesn't seem so. I mean, I've had a few of those in the past few months (one of which involved Tim Minchin rather heavily...) but I think I'm cursed. I had a good day today. It was a good day. All my subjects were good. Even dance practice (yes, they're making us learn progressive dances for the Semi Formal...*shudder*) was alright. More alright than usual, which scares me a little. It was a good day. I got hit in the face with a volleyball, ran up a hill, missed a train, ran up another hill and was late for acting academy, and neither of those could dampen my day. NONE OF IT! And acting academy was fantastic (as usual). The drive home was filled with my delightful rants about nothing.
Then I got home. Dinner was already on the table, so I had no time to do any of the usual just-got-home stuff, but that was okay. I was determined that that would be okay. Grandma was watching a news story about the deteriorating health of Queenslanders, but that was okay. Then it started. Certain people at my mum's place end up in heated discussions about human or animal rights or education or obesity problems or the latest thing about me that seems in need of discussion and subsequent berating or (as was this case) how if you die of something horrible, it's your own stupid fault. Tonight, it was about the increase in people getting diabetes, and this has never been a good topic to bring up with me. Theres something about the D word being said in such a condesending manner that just brings back memories of hospitals and freaking out and nobody telling me exactly what was going on but continually prodding me with things and injecting stuff.
So yeah, my day's been good, it's just dinner time that sucks diseased monkeys.

Things...

...that I'm not looking forward to:
- Year 11 camp
- The semi formal
- Explaining the dress I'm wearing to people, and the exact reason why I'm wearing it
- The eventual worsening of this sore throat
- The internet buggering up again
- The next piece of english assessment
- Doing my maths assignment

...that I AM looking forward to:
- Reading Paper Towns
- Friday
- Acting Academy winter camp =]
- My bed not falling apart again
- Whatever musical I see next (yes, I can be excited about indefinates, shut up, in fact, just for questioning me, the next point)
- Any fantasmic musical/play/movie/whatever else I happen to see in the future (take THAT you inquiring bastard!)
- Making a better point in a blog...

...that I should probably do:
- Get an OP prediction
- Study harder in Chemistry
- Finish reading 48 Shades Of Brown
- Work on those songs I should work on (for guitar ensemble/music assessment/other)
- Art homework
- Write that monologue for drama

...that should happen more often:
- Me seeing certain friends who I don't see often enough
- Me relaxing
- Sudden explosions of inspiration

...that should probably happen less often:
- People misusing the words 'less' and 'fewer'
- My various unsuccessful attempts at (metaphorically) killing James (he's starting to fight back, that's not a good sign)
- James provoking these various unsuccessful attempts at me (metaphorically) killing him
- People doing ten-minute unscripted video diaries
- Hyperglycemia (high blood sugar)
- Hypoglycemia (low blood sugar)
- Me complaining about diabetes
- Me complaining in blog format

And now it's curtains for this blog post. Lacy, gently wafting curtains. (Ten points for anyone who picks up that reference...but let's face it, it's gunna be Ziggy).

Things that happened while I was driving today...

• I passed cyclists and found a new mortal enemy...
• I drove straight over the top of the very same roundabout that my dad drove straight over the top of once when I was ten
• Two people (looking VERY couple-ey) who looked rather alot like Vivi (Acting Academy teacher) and Frezned (YouTuber) went into a rather abandoned-looking building.
• I ended up with Total Eclipse Of The Heart (turn around, every now and then I get a little bit lonely that you're never coming 'round...) stuck in my head, which is never a good thing, driving or not
  

Two "What The FIRETRUCK?!" moments in two days, yay

So, last night, my bed broke. And yes, I've heard all the sex jokes that can be made and have been made, so shut up. It's happened before, because the bed just falls apart whenever the hell it feels like, so the slats fall out and sometimes I'll just sit on it and it'll break, then I get a hammer and put it back together and it lasts another few months. Last night, more slats than ever fell out, so I couldn't even lie really still and just pretend, so I created a sortof cushion-pillow-beanbag-blanket arrangement on the floor, which was alarmingly comfortable, even if it looked like the world's most remarkably unsexy Turkish Hareem. Made slightly less sexy by the fact that I was asleep in the middle of it. Who needs sexy pyjamas when you've got old t-shirts and shorts? Someone who...wears sexy pyjamas probably.
Anyway, my other WHAT THE FIRETRUCK moment happened today in English. Me and Ayla are reading the same novel for assessment, and we were both working on whatever the hell it was we had to do. Anyway, I looked at Ayla's book on her desk, then looked at where my book should have been, but wasn't, then I thought "What the FIRETRUCK?! Where's my book?"
It was open in front of me.

BLOG TIME!

Why? Because I feel like it, not because I have something to blog about.
But the title reminded me of last year some time when I wrote "HUG TIME!" on pieces of paper and gave them to people. Why? I don't know. Anyway, one of them was stuck to a fan in the art room, but someone drew a spiral over it (the kind where you stand on the desk and hold your pen up to the fan to make a spiral). That was quite possibly the oddest insight into my life I've ever provided.

Driving: It's not a life skill, it's a competetion.

I went driving for the first time ever today.
Goddamn it's fun.
I found it ironic that I went down to the local housing estate to drive, when I'd gone to so many protests to keep it from being built (they knocked over most of a state forest/koala habitat to build it). But it's so damn useful, what with being deserted.
Now, I've heard that roundabouts are the most terrifying thing in the world for learner drivers, which they are at the moment (since I've never driven on a motorway or with other cars yet) and guess what the first thing I encountered was. That's right. A roundabout.
And there was a patch where I practiced reversing for a while, and I did so badly on my first try on this section, that on my second try, my mum just grabbed the steering wheel and said, "Okay, you work the pedals and I'll steer."
The one thing my mum didn't tell me, which I had to find out on my own, was that you have to accelerate up hills in order to maintain a constant speed. I didn't realise this until I started slowing down while going up a hill. The funny thing is that this was the exact thing that my granddad didn't tell her when she was driving.
I now have 65 minutes. Which is 35 minutes more than my cousin Michael, which is all that counts in the scheme of things.

meow.

I was going to put all this information into a vlog, but I feel really sick and the only speech I can manage is a sortof quiet mumble, which makes talking to my partially-deaf grandmother rather difficult.
My Acting Academy class last night was pretty cool, I nearly cried. It was in a scene, I'm not so masochistic that I can judge a day on how many times I burst into tears. The scene was entirely improvised but at a point in the scene, the teachers would pause it and give one or both of the actors an objective that was unbeknowenst to the other actor. Mine was to tell the other one that I'd found a picture of her, scantily clad, amongst the posessions of my boyfriend/husband. It ended with me telling her this, an arguement breaking out, and then her saying "I'm so sorry, I know you really like him..." and me saying "We've lived together for three years, I think I'm a bit beyond really liking him!"
After the class, I saw my cousin in a choir of sorts doing Verdi's Requiem at QPAC. That was a barrel of laughs (sarcasm), it went for an hour and a half. But I rather liked some of the more dramatic parts of it, they woke me up after I tuned out and started coreographing a fight scene/zombie attack scene that would take place in the room if all the doors suddenly locked. I found it ironic that the entire choir was grinning from ear to ear while singing about the day of judgement.
So, the silliness surrounding the Semi Formal escalated a little bit, in that it's a bit closer in the future and absolutely on everyone's respective minds. I'm already sick of the whole ordeal, and the actual night isn't until the end of term. Unfortunately, I've already got my dress, which means I lose a bit of...I can't think of what word I want...not-caring-ness-with-regards-to-conversations-about-dressing-up-and-being-shown-off-edness? But hey, it's a sortof gothic-medieval red dress, so if anything, I'll be the warmest girl there. My grandma doesn't seem too keen on it. First she was worried that people will laugh at me, and I explained to her that a) no they won't and b) the people who do laugh are the people who's opinions don't matter to me. Then she said that the person I'm going with might freak out at the prospect of dancing with a Shakespearean witch. At which point I explained to her that the person I'm going with knows I'm pretty much a nutjob and that if I'm to be expected to go through with this ordeal, I'll wear whatever the hell I please, and that I've already categorised most of the people and their reactions, these people will be the people who are indifferent or think my dress is awesome (my friends), people who will kick up a fuss and say it's not really the type of thing you're supposed to wear to the semi formal (the particularly bug-up-the-arse teachers) and the people for whom my dress will only be further proof that I'm a basket case and should be pulled apart with nasty words in sentences that don't follow traditional rules of grammatical convention (twats). And my cousin Terri wanted to contribute in some way, so she got me a nice necklace to go with it. Someone in year 12 (who is in fact a semi-professional makeup artist) offered to do my make up for $20. I politely rejected the offer, what with the fact that I'm probably the worst person ever to do the make up of. Not only will any mascara completely befoul my glasses, but Ayla learned the hard way to never do my make up, when my school was doing Grease the musical and she had to do my make up (on account of the fact that, at the time, I had NO IDEA how to do it for myself). Well, lets face it, she was sticking a pencil in my eye, of course I was going to blink madly. I've seen The Dark Knight, I know what happens when pencils and eyes get together.
Speaking of which, I've got 14 new badges for my guitar strap. Now, that wasn't a completely random segue, as one of the badges is the Joker. And you thought I'd gone mad.
Hmm..my mother appeared with a nice glass of mysterious, bubbly liquid, and it's made me feel a bit better, not to the point of talking, but to the point of thought.
Anyway, badges, I also got the four Hogwarts houses, a treble clef, The Fratellis, Nirvana, Edward Scissorhands, My Chemical Romance, Muse, The Dresden Dolls, Yellow Submarine and Gir from Invader Zim. I love that little guy.
I think I've run out of brain. I can't think of anything else that I've done lately.
In other news, I've got some pretty bad creative block at the moment, which is why my videos of late are a little bit crap.
And I don't really think this blog was worth typing, but hey, I think I'll post it.

Timelines

10-and-a-quarter years ago, I started primary school.
9 years ago, I was diagnosed with Diabetes.
7 years ago, I started drama.
1 year ago, I got my first competant drama teacher(s).
3 years ago, I stopped being underweight.
2 years ago, I started stressing about the fact that now that I was the reccomended weight, I was no longer skinny.
2 days ago, I saw the new Harry Potter trailer.
12 years ago, I started playing piano.
11 1/2 years ago, I stopped playing piano.
3 years ago, and to this day, I lamented that decision furiously.
1 year ago, I had another shot at piano, I'm not particularly good.
1 week ago, I finally figured out how to use the pedal.
3 years ago, Ayla introduced me to punk music.
2 years ago, I started playing guitar.
7 months ago, I gained a large amount of self-confidence.
4 months ago, I started izziesmagicalglasses, because I was sick of being NutcaseAlert.
5 months ago, I switched from Physics to Art.
2 months ago, I started year 11.
6 weeks ago, I saw Wicked.
5 weeks ago, I saw USQ Drama's The Tempest.
1 month ago, I saw the Tim Minchin show.
1 week ago, I saw The Boat That Rocked.
20 minutes ago, I started writing this very blog.
What have you done?

Bad things I did today...

1. Turned my cousin Terri on to a new drinking game (I know, one SHE'D never heard of)
2. Thought up a rather awful alternative acronym to SOHCAHTOA...maybe I'll tell you if you ask nicely...
3. Giggled during the ANZAC Day service

The last one requires explaination. I was PROVOKED! It's not my fault it was hilarious. And this time, it wasn't just me thinking something, there was something visually funny. So, my friend James is in the Air Force Cadets at school (I'm not sure what they do...go about being facists mostly...and yes, I am allowed to say that, because I tell him that ALL THE TIME), and being ANZAC Day (not exctly, but we had the service), three of the Cadets had to be the Flag Party. Dane with a sword for some reason, and James and Tayla with flags. What was funny was them holding the flags. The way they hold the flags is by resting one of the ends (the end without the flag) on their belt buckle. This made them look like they'd stuffed the flag down their pants and was just precariously balancing it there. I loled.

Please Explain

Right, so at my mum's place there are exactly zero people of the male...genre, and the only reason I phrased it that way, is to throw in an IT Crowd reference. So anyway. In this house of zero male influence, there are two bathrooms. One is my mum's ensuite, the other one is...the other one. The other bathroom is only used by me and my grandma. So, can somebody please explain to me how, in a bathroom used only by me and a 72-year-old woman, the TOILET SEAT CAN BE LEFT UP?!
Needless to say, it was an unpleasant experience, what with the fact that I don't go about noticing changes to the house (it once took me a whole month to notice that my mum tore up the front garden) and VERY NEARLY FELL IN.
So, there are two possible explainations. Grandma has been giggling all day at the thought of a small but worthwile prank, OR, she's seduced an old man and isn't telling anyone.
The first one is not only more likely (not to offend Grandma, just to say that all the old men in the area are either married or creepy), but alot less unnerving.

Friday Misadventures

Yay Friday.
Well, the day started by my mum waking me up far too early (8 AM) in order to take the test for my Learners' liscence, which I failed. Not by much, I got 8/10 on the first section (the minimum requirement is 9/10) and 19/20 on the second.
I was a bit pissed about that, but that's probably only because one of the "it crowd" (not to be confused with IT Crowd) bitches from school was there at the same time as me and PASSED. Which makes me wonder if the people get a sense of forboding when they give liscences to dickheads, or if they feel as though they've created a monster when they see hoons.
Anyway, I recieved a rather nice apology letter from the bank today, so nice that I didn't even get annoyed that they'd addressed the letter to "Miss Austin" when I've told them repetedly that they can either call me "Ms Austin" or go and shove their heads up their asses (my year 8 english teacher taught me pretty much the ENTIRE FEMINIST MOVEMENT and a bit's rubbed off, just enough to get pissed at "Miss Austin" and rant on about stuff...which I probably would do anyway...but not enough to be enormously decisive). The apology was for sending me a letter a few weeks ago (which my dad complained about, HUZZAH!) that said that I needed to give them $2000 by the end of the month and maintain a balance of at least $3000 or my tiny amount of money would be dissolved in fees. Turns out that it doesn't apply to people like me who have "STUDENT" written in big letters on their account.
I realised today that as good as my mum is at discerning when I'm being sarcastic, she's not perfect. I made a joke a few days ago about slimming down to fit into my dress for the Semi Formal (I was being sarcastic, I don't even have the bloody garment yet). I thought she hadn't taken me seriously, but she had. Awkwardness ensued, and yes, I am offended.
I also realised that I don't trust anyone else to make pizzas for me. Since my last disasterous experience with my mum's girlfriend saying "what do you want on your pizza?" and I said "oh, pretty much anything," assuming that she knew I meant anything within the bounds of a pizza topping. I was then served an enormous slice with not only your usual pizza toppings, salami, cheese, olives, etc. but broccoli, carrot and bean sprouts. That was the single worst pizza I've ever eaten. I was so disturbed by this that when my grandma offered to help me make a pizza tonight, I glared at her (of course, I apologised later). And incase your wondering, yes, it is a good pizza.
Throughout most of today, I've been thinking about reading Mao's Last Dancer for school, but not actually reading it. But the internet conked out three times today, so in its on little way, it was forcing me to.

Today

Well then. Right now I'm eating a rather awful kind of sugar free chocolate. It's the kind of thing you need alot of before it starts tasting good, but unfortunately if you eat alot of it, it acts as a laxative. Oh the many joys of diabetes.
Anyway, my day. I was going to meet up with most of my Acting Academy class, but only Claire and Myles turned up, and Myles was late, so Claire and I went to the South Bank markets for a while, where we made some new friends, a creepy juggling dude and an old woman in a badge tent. I got some new badges (which are on my Dailybooth) because I thought my guitar strap needed some revamping, it's looking a little bit underpopulated. So anyways, we went to the movies Claire dragged me and Myles into 17 Again, which was awful. One of those American movies that promote American Family Values, so it pissed me off on general principle. Also, it was a Zac Effron movie. Grr. And the plot was pretty bad. And also, they threw in a Harry Potter 3 reference to the part that was set in 1989, what the frick!
Anyway, we ended up all going off somewhere or other, and, while alone on a bus, trying to read, I ended up renewing my dislike of children. As a group of them sat behind me, shouting and screaming and kicking my chair and being small arseholes.
When I got home, my day got a bit funnier, as I got an email from Facebook saying that someone who I never really liked had asked me out via a wall comment, and upon inspecting my wall, I noticed that the entry had been hastily deleted. Lols ensued.