You’re “blingy”

 Had a sleepover last night with everyone to celebrate the end of summer holidays and the GCSEs. We played the ‘name game’, basically where you write the name of a celebrity on a piece of paper then stick it to someone’s forehead then they ask questions to find out who they are.  Someone wrote Bill Gates, which is fine, you know better to go for the obscure rather than the obvious. However when the question ‘Am I a politician’ arose due to the lack of a career in entertainment two people answered ‘yes!’. And until someone said, ‘hang on, what did they say?’ we didn’t realise what had happened. So there’s the girl sitting with ‘Bill Gates’ Stuck to her head on a luminous green post-it note, her fingers in her ears, eyes closed and humming whilst everyone else sits there going, ‘he isn’t a politician! He’s not!’ to the reply of ‘Yes he is, he’s that famous president!’. To cut a long story short after much objection to the ‘president’ story I ended up going to my parents and saying ‘Bill Gates was never president of the US was he?’ much to the amusement of my mum who just laughed at the stupidity of the question. Turned out they thought Bill Gates was Bill Clinton, and to make it even worse one of the people who’d said that Bill Gates was  a politician was the girl who’d come up with his name in the first place.

 After all that you’d think it couldn’t get worse, but alas it did. Not only did we have to answer the question ‘Am I married, or was I married’ about 5 times to Sleeping Beauty, and had to discuss the idea that it depended on whether you’d seen the film or not as if you hadn’t technically she wasn’t married and if you had she was. Also when we decided it was time for clues I was told ‘you’re blingy’. Then when I asked ‘Am I black?’ I got the response ‘Yes’ from two people, ‘no’ from another’ and ‘sort of from everyone else. It turned out I was Ali G so it should have been a no….

 We survived that until I, yes it was me (again), said in a passing comment to ‘Bill Gates’ who hadn’t worked out who she was yet, ‘Don’t listen to her, she though Bill Gates was politician!!’ hence giving away the entire game and causing her to know immediately who she was. I am officially crap at secrets.  Not serious secrets, I can keep them quiet. It’s the random ones I have trouble with, like in Secret Santa last year I hadn’t got my present yet and mentioned on the phone, ‘Oh God, I’ve got to get Claire’s Christmas present still’.  Followed by a moments silence as I try to work out if they heard what I said and, if they did, if they worked out what it meant. They did.

 Argh.

 Well, everyone’s gone and I have gained a necklace, a night light and a bowl of coleslaw (it was BYO).  I’m now sitting here contemplating changing my A Level subjects to Biology, Chemistry, English Lit and French and dropping History. It’s too hard to choose but if I want to do life sciences at university (i.e. Biochemistry, pharmacology) I have to do biology or maths. And there is no way I’d ever do maths. Ever.

Oh poop, I’m ‘in a pickle’. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Well, a word of wisdom before I leave, something to mull over in your head, it’s simple but, as I’m sure you’ll agree, full of possibility:

                                                 Boobs

or, on a calculator: 58,008.

August 28, 2006. Friends, General Ramblings, School. 1 comment.

And we’re back…

Home again…

The weekend wasn’t as bad a it could have been.  Sure there was an extremely long, tense silence when the 4-year-old-15-year-old bent a spoon (don’t ask) but apart from that it was actually quite relaxing.  We spent most of our time on retail therapy and I managed to buy a brilliant grey t-shirt, a blue jumper and a magnificent beaded necklace for a total of 25 euros.  Which I think is pretty good.

 We just had a massive Indian takeaway and as a result I am currently feeling rather ill and wishing I hadn’t decided to polish off that last piece of chicken bhuna. At the airport I found a copy of Bridget Jones’s Diary in French so got that, my French teacher told us to expose ourselves to as much French as possible.  Let me tell you, it’s bloody hard to read Bridget Jones in French, and I couldn’t ask my mum what some of the words meant as I was pretty sure most of them weren’t suitable for a plane load of French people to hear. It also doesn’t help that I’ve only ever seen the films as, although I know the film scripts off by heart, the book is completely and utterly different. Bummer.

 We also went to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2: The Dead Man’s Chest, which, personally, I thought was wonderful. The scripts were much funnier this time but the cliffhanger-esque ending was a bit abrupt. I won’t say what happens in case anyone reading this hasn’t seen it and therefore gets annoyed etc. etc. Keira Knightley’s part was way better, her character had much better lines and the plot wasn’t as complicated as some critics have complained.

 I have no idea what to write now…

 Actually, I’m going to try to remember my french oral presentation: (please add in all accents as I’m on a laptop and therefore have no idea how to insert these and cannot be bothered to open MS Word and copy/paste/repeat the whole way through…although, if anyone knows how you get accents on a laptop, please tell me!)

 Je vais vous parler de mon sejour a Paris. L’octobre derniere je suis allee a Paris avec mes parents pour quatre jours. Nous sommes alles en Eurostar parce que c’est plus direct et rapid que le ferry.

 Nous sommes arrives a notre hotel tard le soir et nous nous sommes couches immediatement. Notre hotel etait pres de Cadet, une station de metro.  Notre hotel a trois etoiles et il etais tres confortable.

 Le premiere jour, les temps (…something…) et nous avons decides d’aller a la tour Eiffel.  La vue etait fantastique depuis la-haut et un jour je voudrais y retourner.

 Le deuxieme jour, nous sommes alles au musee de Louvre.  Il y avait beaucoup de touristes devant les peintures at nous n’avons pas eu une bonne vue.  J’ai achete une carte postale de la joconde (Mona Lisa) que j’ai mis sur un mur dans ma chambre.

 Notre derniere Jour ma mere et moi avons fait du shopping.  Mon pere est alle a un cafe parce qu’il pense que faire du shopping est ennuyeux (sp?).

 Hmm, there’s another two paragraphs but I think that’s pretty good seeing as though since I knew that off by heart I’ve had my German oral exam and it’s been at least two months. If you didn’t understand any of it and you want to (I don’t think you will but if you do…) go to www.babelfish.altavista.com and then enter this website address and translate page into English and it’ll give you an approximate idea as to what I was going on about!

August 8, 2006. Family, Friends, General Ramblings, Holidays, School. Leave a comment.

I love you so much I could squish you…

^^ I love that quote, and I think most people can identify with it, much like on Friends when Phoebe is looking at Rachel’s baby and says “couldn’t you just bite her little ear off?!?”. A word of warning, I am a major Friends buff, yes even though it ended ages ago.

 So, what happened today…not much is the answer. I woke up, looked at the clock, saw it was 8am and decided that 8am is far too early to get up in the summer holidays so went back to sleep. I eventually dragged myself out of bed at around 10.30am and was met with the prospect of 4 over ripe nectarines for breakfast “You have to eat them! We’re going away, I’m not throwing out good food!”. So I ate 2 nectarines, enough for anyone I think :).

 As my beloved mother said, we are going away, tomorrow to be exact so maybe this is kind of crappy timing to start writing this but I’m figuring I’m going to need an outlet for stress, ranting and utter disbelief when we return. We’re going to France for a ‘long weekend’ to see our friends who live there. Although it is sort of like going to stay with the Addams Family, the parents are such opposites, the 2 brothers are as well. One of them must have a slight psychiatric problem, he’s completely of the wall.  He’s 15 years old and he still behaves like a spoilt 4 year old.  You know how toddlers decide they want an ice cream and go completely mental when you refuse and throw a complete strop but then 2 minutes later have set their hearts on a chocolate bar which is then refused, and so begins the cycle again? Well, that is what he does. Only he’s 15 year old. I’m not a violent person, I can be incredibly stubborn if told to do something I don’t want to but I don’t go around whacking people and even I feel the need to hit him with an extremely heavy hammer after about 2 hours.

 To make things worse the other brother, who is ok, a complete know-it-all, thinks he’s smarter than everyone else and never fails to correct your french accent, but ok :), isn’t going to be there. So it’s just going to be me and the 4-year-old-15-year-old.

 I am off now, I have to pack then I’m going to bed. Even if I finish packing at 5pm I’m going to bed. We’re leaving for the airport at 5.30am.  Yes, 5.30am. This is going to be a brilliant weekend.  Sorry, not a weekend, a long weekend!

August 3, 2006. Family, General Ramblings, Holidays. Leave a comment.