39. 05/01/81.
I almost think seeing Teagan in that leather jacket was worth all the hell I'm getting now.
Besides, now I think I get how Gwyn can deal with it, because after enough shit, all the "blah blah blah you're an evil bitch whore" turns into an amusing sort of white noise. You'd think I'd shagged You-Know-Who himself and offered Palmer's soul up as a sacrifice to Satan by some of the looks I'm getting.
People are so fucking stupid.
Palmer's the only one who has any right to protest and I do respect his right to. It's fucking Gaheris Morgan and apparently nine out of ten Hufflepuffs thinking their opinion on this matters whatsoever that bothers me. But the fact is, I don't care.
It's not like this is any more than a bit of snogging and fun, as it is. Just because half of 1981 (including Julia and Jeremy, am I surprised, no, I'm really bloody not) decided to get married doesn't mean that all of us have to be held to a 'must marry the person you're dating' standard. That fucking standard kept me with Palmer for an extra year. And I'm not cut out for a rigid commitment, if the last couple of shots were any indication.
Here's the point.
I don't care. Because soon enough, I'm out of here, and all of this shit won't matter anymore. It'll just be me and Quidditch and whatever the fuck else I want out of life.
Including Teagan Bones in a leather jacket. God, I thought my knees were going to buckle for a second there.
Hope everyone had good Christmas hols and everything!
Back to the grind of NEWT revision, and I hope everyone else is lucky enough to have a mate like Anne Mullet, who really could be at the head of a classroom someday if the dorm sessions are any indication. We're learning a lot and having a good time of it, too.
But make no mistake, we're going to make sure Ravenclaw/Slytherin's a blockbuster.
[Private: Gilly/Teagan]
How's it going?
(Well, you're not dead yet, but I'd give it a few nights.)