her face is a map of the world
I have a tooth ache. And nothing to do.
I just got sent a link to a myspace page and spent rather a long time linking from page to page... dozens upon dozens of people that i know or used to know have clearly taken a large amount of time to put "serious" (highly composed) photos on pages and pages of lurid-coloured, too-small-to-read writing, listing everyband they have ever listened to make themselves seem interesting. There is little exception to this.
Since the end of exams I've spent a large amount of time getting drunk. Last wednesday george, tomo and i went to the beehive, and then george and i watched half of 'get shorty' which we were too drunk to follow, despite him having seen it before, and then some black books. on thursday i met abi for lunch, when we stuffed ourselves silly at Sazios and spent the rest of the day feeling really fat. In the evening was school graduation thingamy, which was sort of okay but a bit... yes. none the less, they piled on the Lindauer afterward (which i sometimes like more than champagne, and definately more than cheap champagne) and then i went to the hell hole that is batchwood. I spent most of the evening once again sitting in the cocktail lounge wearing a pair of stolen aviators. people weren't very interesting that evening, although i did speak to some nice people, notably Cranny from the year above me at school, with whom i had a conversation about why everyone should just be nice to each other (with shooting glances towards a certain Guy [punn]). I think friday is when i started feeling ill, and i don't recall what i did in the evening.
saturday i went to oxford st to buy a dress for my ball (but not a ball dress) and succeeded, and watched the Godfather in the evening, which was fucking excellent. My dad said that he was sure i would relate to some italian family traits in the film which i found concerning to say the least. I have no recollection of any of my family wearing bullet proof vests, let alone using them to wrap fish (although my dad does have a sterling silver relief keyring of a horse's head from one of my uncles... hmm!).
Sunday i felt really ill all day, but went to a party in brookman's park in the evening anyway, which was a mistake. In a petrol station on the way there, the back of my car had a fight with a bollard... in reverse... on an incline. Tomorrow i'm driving to a scrap yard in woolich for a new bumper.
Monday i went to Thorpe park for rachael's birthday which, i won't lie, i was dreading. It was though, shockingly, quite a nice day. I clung to Louise for dear life (and intersting conversation), and Dave too, aslong as we weren't on a big uppy-downy-round-and-round ride, which he's scared of.
On tuesday i went in to town to get some bits of pieces for my dress that evening, and some medicine because i felt worse than every (it's like flue without the runny nose... so achey and headahcey and sore throat and feeling pathetic.) i went to see my friend in BeneFit to ask her if she might to my make-up for the evening, but as soon as i said it was my leavers' ball she went "OH! come in later and i'll do your make up!!" which was lovely, so i did in the afternoon.
The evening too, was nice. The dinner was just people who were in my year, and was lovely, and the deputy headmaster (who has shaved his moustache and now looks slightly less like hitler) bought us lots of wine. Then my table won tequila slammers for the best centre piece (which i'd thought up when someone phoned me, panicked, at 5pm that afternoon), although i thought the "Jewish/Geography" table's should have won: an inflatable globe with Jewish cap (the correct name escapes me, sorry jamie), a picture of Salman Rushdie stuck on the front and a Fulham FC flag. Ours was just a flower pot with photos cut out like flowers stuck on sticks. Then guests turned up and i was impressed that george really had put on a suit and organised his way out to markyate (well, organised in that he rang the friend i said could give him a lift...) but it was lovely. He was, however, stolen by various teachers for long chats about everything, particularly mr mccord who *definately* fancies him (platonically. i know that doesn't make sense.) we caught a taxi home with alex addison, anna, and a passed-out tom barnard, who sat between george and addi while they tried to convince him he was on a beach. Anna and i occasionally heard "mm... feel the sand beneath your feet." Lots of giggling followed.
I felt like shit the next morning, mostly because of illness and lack of sleep rather than hang over. so i did nothing on wednesday. my uncle did however finally come out of hospital in Hull, to move to a nicer smaller one in Beverly. Hull Royal Infirmary is possibly the most depressing place i have ever been being a)like a prison b)a hospital and c)in Hull. Certainly not somewhere to spend 9 fucking weeks.
Today i did little but vet calls from my grandmother to reassure her that no, my dad and my brother hadn't been blown up in the explosions. The slight phone meltdown meant that she couldn't get through to my dad at his office, and so she'd been having kittens until she got through to me. I watched a lot of the news. Even though i spend so much time in London, and that the trains not going etc affected pleanty of people i know, it felt very far away. It's such a bastardly thing to happen, especcially when it was so nice on wednesday that the headlines were such positive, exciting news about the olympics. Nick came over again to "organise our party". We got as far as checking the list we wrote last time, and deciding a theme (rock n roll) which is likely to change again. We're going to see if his mum will make our cake as a cat on skag (collar tightened round arm etc) because he pretended to be one for 10 minutes and i drew a picture of one. no, we actually weren't drunk.
I need to do something with myself. I might just go and stay with my grandma for a while with a friend who has nothing to do either (but hopefully abi because we always have an amazing time there.) i should also get a job, and think about what i'm actually going to do next year. I always find when i have masses to do i'm on top of it, but when i have little to do i don't do anything at all. tomorrow i'm going to a surprise party with free transport and an open bar. what were his parents thinking?!
x
I just got sent a link to a myspace page and spent rather a long time linking from page to page... dozens upon dozens of people that i know or used to know have clearly taken a large amount of time to put "serious" (highly composed) photos on pages and pages of lurid-coloured, too-small-to-read writing, listing everyband they have ever listened to make themselves seem interesting. There is little exception to this.
Since the end of exams I've spent a large amount of time getting drunk. Last wednesday george, tomo and i went to the beehive, and then george and i watched half of 'get shorty' which we were too drunk to follow, despite him having seen it before, and then some black books. on thursday i met abi for lunch, when we stuffed ourselves silly at Sazios and spent the rest of the day feeling really fat. In the evening was school graduation thingamy, which was sort of okay but a bit... yes. none the less, they piled on the Lindauer afterward (which i sometimes like more than champagne, and definately more than cheap champagne) and then i went to the hell hole that is batchwood. I spent most of the evening once again sitting in the cocktail lounge wearing a pair of stolen aviators. people weren't very interesting that evening, although i did speak to some nice people, notably Cranny from the year above me at school, with whom i had a conversation about why everyone should just be nice to each other (with shooting glances towards a certain Guy [punn]). I think friday is when i started feeling ill, and i don't recall what i did in the evening.
saturday i went to oxford st to buy a dress for my ball (but not a ball dress) and succeeded, and watched the Godfather in the evening, which was fucking excellent. My dad said that he was sure i would relate to some italian family traits in the film which i found concerning to say the least. I have no recollection of any of my family wearing bullet proof vests, let alone using them to wrap fish (although my dad does have a sterling silver relief keyring of a horse's head from one of my uncles... hmm!).
Sunday i felt really ill all day, but went to a party in brookman's park in the evening anyway, which was a mistake. In a petrol station on the way there, the back of my car had a fight with a bollard... in reverse... on an incline. Tomorrow i'm driving to a scrap yard in woolich for a new bumper.
Monday i went to Thorpe park for rachael's birthday which, i won't lie, i was dreading. It was though, shockingly, quite a nice day. I clung to Louise for dear life (and intersting conversation), and Dave too, aslong as we weren't on a big uppy-downy-round-and-round ride, which he's scared of.
On tuesday i went in to town to get some bits of pieces for my dress that evening, and some medicine because i felt worse than every (it's like flue without the runny nose... so achey and headahcey and sore throat and feeling pathetic.) i went to see my friend in BeneFit to ask her if she might to my make-up for the evening, but as soon as i said it was my leavers' ball she went "OH! come in later and i'll do your make up!!" which was lovely, so i did in the afternoon.
The evening too, was nice. The dinner was just people who were in my year, and was lovely, and the deputy headmaster (who has shaved his moustache and now looks slightly less like hitler) bought us lots of wine. Then my table won tequila slammers for the best centre piece (which i'd thought up when someone phoned me, panicked, at 5pm that afternoon), although i thought the "Jewish/Geography" table's should have won: an inflatable globe with Jewish cap (the correct name escapes me, sorry jamie), a picture of Salman Rushdie stuck on the front and a Fulham FC flag. Ours was just a flower pot with photos cut out like flowers stuck on sticks. Then guests turned up and i was impressed that george really had put on a suit and organised his way out to markyate (well, organised in that he rang the friend i said could give him a lift...) but it was lovely. He was, however, stolen by various teachers for long chats about everything, particularly mr mccord who *definately* fancies him (platonically. i know that doesn't make sense.) we caught a taxi home with alex addison, anna, and a passed-out tom barnard, who sat between george and addi while they tried to convince him he was on a beach. Anna and i occasionally heard "mm... feel the sand beneath your feet." Lots of giggling followed.
I felt like shit the next morning, mostly because of illness and lack of sleep rather than hang over. so i did nothing on wednesday. my uncle did however finally come out of hospital in Hull, to move to a nicer smaller one in Beverly. Hull Royal Infirmary is possibly the most depressing place i have ever been being a)like a prison b)a hospital and c)in Hull. Certainly not somewhere to spend 9 fucking weeks.
Today i did little but vet calls from my grandmother to reassure her that no, my dad and my brother hadn't been blown up in the explosions. The slight phone meltdown meant that she couldn't get through to my dad at his office, and so she'd been having kittens until she got through to me. I watched a lot of the news. Even though i spend so much time in London, and that the trains not going etc affected pleanty of people i know, it felt very far away. It's such a bastardly thing to happen, especcially when it was so nice on wednesday that the headlines were such positive, exciting news about the olympics. Nick came over again to "organise our party". We got as far as checking the list we wrote last time, and deciding a theme (rock n roll) which is likely to change again. We're going to see if his mum will make our cake as a cat on skag (collar tightened round arm etc) because he pretended to be one for 10 minutes and i drew a picture of one. no, we actually weren't drunk.
I need to do something with myself. I might just go and stay with my grandma for a while with a friend who has nothing to do either (but hopefully abi because we always have an amazing time there.) i should also get a job, and think about what i'm actually going to do next year. I always find when i have masses to do i'm on top of it, but when i have little to do i don't do anything at all. tomorrow i'm going to a surprise party with free transport and an open bar. what were his parents thinking?!
x