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.