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.

Quite Nice Friday

So, I got an email from my mum this morning, it said "Happy Jesus Got Nailed Day!"
Thanks mum, you've given me more to say than just "Happy Zombie Jesus Day!"

oh my god, facebook...

So, I was perusing the facebook sidebar when I came across this:

Okay, and I thought the internet couldn't sink any lower.

So of course I tried it out.

For purely satirical reasons.

But it turns out it's just the Vampire game.

Well, that was disappointing, I thought I could go on a rampage of hypothetical synacism, but there doesn't seem to be any call for that at this point.

But something I can say, which is completely off-topic, is this:

I was reading 'the book' (the one I should probably read a bit more of before going for my Learners) and it said that if you're driving along, minding your own business, and someone riding a horse comes along (and especially if the person doesn't look in control of the horse) then, in order to give way to the horse, you must pull over and STOP THE ENGINE, because that might frighten the horse. First of all, what's a person doing riding a horse as a mode of transport? Secondly, why are they doing this if they're not great at controlling the horse? Lastly, aren't cars faster than horses?

Speaking of horses, I found out a rather disappointing fact these last Christmas holidays. Now, this fact begins when I was 10, and my grandma told me that horse farts were green. Now, I don't usually take things she says seriously, but one of my friends was rather horse-mad, so I held on to this fact in order to piss her off, but part of me believed it. And on these Christmas holidays, I found out it wasn't true. That's probably the stupidest thing I've ever done, listening to my grandmother. So there's a lesson in that, never listen to anyone. Especially if they're talking out their arse, no pun intended.

INTERESTING TITLE!

So, I've cheered up since last blog.
But the thing is, I probably have a problem, and my problem is thus. I can't stop acquiring books.
I'm about three quarters into Watchmen (and LOVING it), then I've got to read Mao's Last Dancer for school, then 48 Shades of Brown and maybe Joel and Kat Set The Story Straight because they're library books (which I didn't want to borrow, but the english teacher is a dominatrix who wants people to do some "wider reading"). Now, this doesn't seem too bad, except for the fact that I REALLY WANT TO READ PAPER TOWNS and I have to read it before Ayla does, because she's not a NerdFighter. Then I've got all the books I got from my grandma for my birthday, namely Of Mice And Men, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Perfume: The Story Of A Murderer, A Clockwork Orange, and A Picture of Dorian Grey.
And then I got another book today. A book of one-liners. I do so love one-liners. Advanced Banter: The QI Book of Quotations. QI is a fantastic show, it's hard to find, but FIND IT! It's a good one.
And I've just noticed the two books my Aunty Carol got me for my birthday, The Declaration and The Resistance. Bloody hell.

Cross Country

Today at the cross country carnival (which involved running IN HEAVY RAIN...I stepped in a puddle...it was deeper than anticipated...) I learned about the stages of getting rained on.

1. Not putting umbrella up, it's not raining that hard.
2. Putting your umbrella up, just in case.
3. Huddling under umbrella and hoping you don't get wet.
4. Taking off your watch in hopes that you can keep it dry.
5. Hoping you don't get ludicrously wet.
6. Lamenting straightening hair.
7. Discarding umbrella, there is no longer any point to it, you're wet enough.
8. Hoping your underwear doesn't get wet.
9. Hoping your underwear dries quickly.
10. The stage where you're so wet it actually feels nice.
11. It's wet, it's cold, it's horrible.
12. Contemplating selling your soul for a towel.
13. And a change of clothes.
14. Your shoes fill with water and slosh when you move.
15. Contemplating selling a friend's soul for a hairdryer, not just for your hair, but to see if you can get most of the fluid out of your shoes.
16. It's stopped raining, a sense of hope fills your soul.
17. It starts raining again.

Yep. I went through all those stages somewhere between 9:30 and 12 today. Not a great day.

But it's the Easter holidays now. Two weeks off.