Short and pointless
THE USERNAME MEME
It's my birthday this Sunday. I'm not actually excited about it at all. It feels kind of weird. I don't think I really want to be sixteen. Fifteen's a good age for me. I like being fifteen. Plus, having your birthday on a Sunday is rubbish - you don't get to go to school and have people make a fuss of you, but it's not a Saturday so you can't really do anything for it. Well, I can't anyway. I've got church and a parish lunch.
(Apparently, in addition to being LEGAL when I turn sixteen, I can also legally buy a chainsaw?)
Something rather suspicious happened in English yesterday. I was sitting next to my friend and Amy and I was saying how I wanted to do something for my birthday this Saturday. And Amy gives me this panicked look and goes, " I just have to... have a quick conference with... those guys," and runs over to where my friends Katie and Maria were sitting. And they have this little whispered conversation and then Amy comes back and says, "Yes, you might want to consider that perhaps other people have organised something for you. However, I think you can do something on this Saturday..."
Hmmm... all very suspicious, non?
Also, this year my mum's not going to be here for my birthday because she left this morning to go to Canada for two weeks to see my grandpa. I'm not upset about it or anything, it's just going to be weird.
Also, I don't think my birthday's ever been so near the start of Lent before. Every year for Lent I give up... everything? Everything edible anyway. No chocolate, no sweets, no biscuits, no cake, etc, etc. I have to block everything for myself because otherwise I find myself looking for loopholes in my regime. So yeah, on top of that I've joined in with my friends in trying to not blaspheme, swear or say 'like' for the whole forty days. We've decided to all speak Very Proper English. Which means we're all out of the 19th century, but I suppose that's not a bad thing.
It's my birthday this Sunday. I'm not actually excited about it at all. It feels kind of weird. I don't think I really want to be sixteen. Fifteen's a good age for me. I like being fifteen. Plus, having your birthday on a Sunday is rubbish - you don't get to go to school and have people make a fuss of you, but it's not a Saturday so you can't really do anything for it. Well, I can't anyway. I've got church and a parish lunch.
(Apparently, in addition to being LEGAL when I turn sixteen, I can also legally buy a chainsaw?)
Something rather suspicious happened in English yesterday. I was sitting next to my friend and Amy and I was saying how I wanted to do something for my birthday this Saturday. And Amy gives me this panicked look and goes, " I just have to... have a quick conference with... those guys," and runs over to where my friends Katie and Maria were sitting. And they have this little whispered conversation and then Amy comes back and says, "Yes, you might want to consider that perhaps other people have organised something for you. However, I think you can do something on this Saturday..."
Hmmm... all very suspicious, non?
Also, this year my mum's not going to be here for my birthday because she left this morning to go to Canada for two weeks to see my grandpa. I'm not upset about it or anything, it's just going to be weird.
Also, I don't think my birthday's ever been so near the start of Lent before. Every year for Lent I give up... everything? Everything edible anyway. No chocolate, no sweets, no biscuits, no cake, etc, etc. I have to block everything for myself because otherwise I find myself looking for loopholes in my regime. So yeah, on top of that I've joined in with my friends in trying to not blaspheme, swear or say 'like' for the whole forty days. We've decided to all speak Very Proper English. Which means we're all out of the 19th century, but I suppose that's not a bad thing.