There are days we want always to remember, and there are days we try to forget...

Right, right, right, Sophie now HAS to win Over the Rainbow, not just because she has pretty hair and a nice voice, but also because my evil mother wants Danielle (the one who can't act who my brother thinks looks like Hayley) to win, and because she dared to badmouth Lauren.

Okay, so i admit I'm not overly surprised Lauren isn't through. But I've no doubt she's got an AMAZING theatrical career ahead of her.

SOPHIE FOR THE WIN NOW.

My week may have been utter trash, but last night and a WONDERFUL afternoon today did in fact make up for it.
For twas Nick's 18th last night, where the birthday boy managed to introduce me to everybody he could as Taylor, prompting someone to say 'Sorry, but I can't remember your name...I know your surname though?'
It's all because apparently saying BETHANY Taylor doesn't 'feel right' to him.
Oh well, he sang Michael Buble, we'll let him off.

Then today, OH MY GOSHY GOSHNESS, we actually had REAL LIFE SUNSHINE!
Ended up treking over to my Grandad's for an afternoon of cricket like the posh shortie I am.

I also used the opportunity to test out our new camera as a way of jumping on the photography bandwagon (because I'm boring and unoriginal like that)....

Oh. It appears you'll have to go on Facebook to see some examples of my mediocre creativity. Blogger is being a pain in the backside and won't let me upload anything.

Shame, I was going to post this brilliant picture of my brother in his batting stance that he banned me from putting up on Facebook. His face is a picture...literally. It really is quite funny. And since he has no idea I have a blog, I was going to treat you all.

Nah, still nothing. Oh well.

Well, well, well. Exam leave, here we are. I promised myself a totally free day today to just laze, but I suppose I'll actually have to do some sort of revision later.

OHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Leachy boy is using absurd language at me just because I dared to flick my way through a city breaks brochure thingy while Doctor Who was on.
IT BORES ME.

But bless Matt and his odd face :) I remember when you all hated him.

*awaits uproar from controversial comment*

I'm actually vaguely happy :') Even if once again you've failed to reply to my text after you started the conversation :')

OHHHHH I THINK IT'S WORKED?!?!?!









I'm so good when it comes to technology. *cough*

You can look right through me, walk right by me...and never know I'm there.

I need to learn to NOT pick the super hot curries.

I thought Friends was on right now, but apparently I'm wrong. It seems I'm permenently wrong at the moment. I don't even know if I can spell anymore.

'Testicles' has just signed in. Charming.

Social Interview questons confuse me. Heck, talk about the awkwardness currently littering my wall...

Surprised at the number of people who've let me down/ignored me/done both this week. Plain rudeness. The song Class from Chicago comes to mind here: "Whatever happened to nice manners and good breeding?..." etc etc etc.
This could also lead into another mini rant about people who don't reply to texts in text conversations they've started. Just...why?

My brother is screaming for some Rhys to come and heal him. I think he's on COD.

Waiting for this mood to pick up but I don't seem to be getting far :/

Bored, lonely, and I seriously can't wait for 3:10 tomorrow.

Like snowflakes in the ocean...

TEEHEE, I'm obsessed with this song, I was right.

That was a rather psychotic 'teehee' there, see.

This week is just one long, throbbing headache. I NEED A HUG.

I almost wrote jug there, but I don't need no jugs right now, ta.

Last ever GCSE Music lesson today. And last EVER French. My Music folder is rather beautiful now after suffering abuse in the form of 'good luck paragraphs' from my fellow musicians. We were a good group though :') PANINI PANINI....

Every now and then I fall apart *modulation*.

Tomorrow is our last ever Graphics lesson. I'm going to get emotional. I HATE the subject with a fat passion, but it's just not going to be the same without Burty and Ellingwoof next year. The 3 Musketeers will be no more. I almost wrote 32 there.

Thank god there's NOT 32 of us. The world suffers enough.

I'm a fool. *sigh*

I can't see an easy way to get out of this.

Hmm. Yeah, I don't get you either.

I can't be doing with any of this right now. I just want sleep.

And I can feel another cold coming on. IN MAY.

Hmm. If only you were simple and I was slightly less pathetic.

I almost had a heart attack just then because I thought my Dad had hoovered up some new lyrics o' mine, and then I realised I'd actually emailed them to myself so I hadn't lost them at all.
But I'd forgotten to write down the actual chords you sort of have to play. Otherwise it's just a poem.
Not that I really care.
And you don't care either. Especially you there, in the back.

Everything is SO difficult.

Get out of my house, and while you're at it, my head.

I'll be the brick you can throw.

Just when I think Muse can't get any better, they go and defy me and hit a whole new level of awesomeness.

This song is obviously going to be played FAR too much by me in the next few weeks, I can tell this already.

I'm not sure why I'm here, everything's a blur. I need sleep.

But then again, to hell with logic.

Just before I go howeveer, I have to say this...

After 11 years of schooling, the moment has finally come. I no longer have to do PE.

Ever, ever, ever again.

Turn around, bright eyes...

One...more...week....before the onslaught.

Some of us should be in bed. Some of us shouldn't be prolonging going to bed by blog-posting. Some of us got 4 hours sleep last night (eventually) and then got up (of their own free will) at 8:30am on a Sunday morning.
Some of us need to get a life.

I have a secret guilty pleasure for cheesy 80s pop and power ballads, and I DON'T CARE :)

Okay, maybe I do a bit.
I'll just never let you look on my ipod; the guilty pleasure excuse gets used a lot when it comes to explaining exactly WHY certain songs are on there.

Except the Space Pirates theme tune, that makes me happy.

CALL ME SAD, I don't give a flying Ford Anglia.

I don't know exactly what it did, but Hinckley did SOMETHING to me yesterday. Last night my knee made one last almighty clicking noise and ever since it hasn't hurt and I can freely bend my leg without fear of mean pain :')
Looking at it now, almost all the swelling has gone down!
And, erm, I haven't been 'forgetting' my exercises or anything...

Slight downside, it means I can no longer treat myself to the beautiful pink smarties I was prescribed. We'll find a way, eh son?
I swear I was 'legally tripping' on a cocktail of those, paracetamol and caffeine last Thursday. My head was just like WOAHHHH.
Oh well.

Tomorrow I have my LAST EVER PE LESSON. EVER. For the LAST time.

11 years just went *poof*.

And oh, she likes to lead, in every way she led me on...

I think I've done something wrong. But I'm not entirely sure what.
I think I'll put this down to my inherited paranoia and the slight habit I have of overthinking.
There's nothing I can really do about it anyway, even if I HAVE.

You know something I HAVE done wrong? NEGLECTED THIS HERE BLOG. This is disgusting. Where the HELL have I been?!?!

A load of rubbish has happened, but who cares, one week left and I'm about as motivated as a left-over carrot on Boxing Day.

Leftover? Left over? Left-over? I've never had to write that before.

What ever happened to the school magazine? I'm supposed to be co-editing it, I'd like to know.

You'll have to excuse me, my mind's a bit of a blehh-ful mush (once more).

It gets to this time and all is quiet and I'm like 'hmm...' and my mind wanders :)
Now, it has the potential to fuel PERFECT creativity, or it can just be a flippin' pain.
Tonight I'm going with flippin' pain.

Another flippin' pain? My flippin' knee. Water on it or something? Never seen so many pills in my life. Pink smarties.

Ohhh, the sarcasm (and pure nonsense) is just a-flowing now.

I don't even THINK I'm in a bad mood either, just a tad confused, tired and fed up? Every single lesson at dear school is either a muckaround or a past paper, just bring on the exams and let them be OVERRRRR, I want to sleep and do lazy stuff.

*insert rant about Lutterworth and them slapping me in the face metaphorically by stopping me from doing EPQ and putting me on waiting lists for something that isn't my fault*
*insert light-hearted comment about touring around Hinckley with the fiancee and son today*
*insert another comment about exam leave*
*insert irritated comment about my face*
*insert general mooooaaaaaan*

"When I grow up, I want to be a penguin. Or a flute."

Or, in the words of my beloved shirt in the eyes of Burty, "When I grow, I want to be a rock star."

"Get out of my house."