Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand. Listen out for the bit that always makes me want to dance. You'll know it when you get to it.
Tuesday [my 17th] was... perfect. ☺
Started when I woke up to the timeless voice of George Michael on the radio [I still love him, even if the rest of the world thinks he's a toilet prowler]. I wasn't expecting anything, but I stumbled into my parents' room and found a BEAUTIFUL guitar case, one of the massive, proper oldschool, clunky ones, and it's awesome. Hermann feels right at home in the velvet. They also gave me two driving theory/road sign books, presumably so I can study up for the inevitable driving lessons that'll come next. Help, me in control of a vehicle. My friend on the bus gave me a tin of cakes she'd made, spelling out "*name of the guy from a few posts ago* is a dick", with a drawing on the last cake to tastefully illustrate her point. I never thought I'd come to love a cake with a phallus on it as much as I do.
My day was one of those where everything happens the way you want it to, largely down to the fact it was generally just a really nice day, in a lot of small ways; I didn't have to run for the bus, I had nice lessons, the weather was nice, that kind of thing. Lunch was good. A group of us ambled into town and got a takeaway. Eating my way to imminent obesity was a perfectly amiable way to spend an hour of my life. Holy crap, I ate a lot that day. No word of a lie, I was a single muffin away from heart failure. After school, we went to my sister's, to hang out with the baby, which was so much more epic than I'm making it out to be. She made us cannelloni, which I've decided I'm going to learn to make at some point this year. They gave me a mug with Leo's footprints on it in yellow, which makes me very happy. The handle is rainbow-coloured.
Because he's a genuinely great guy [bit of late-night alliteration, yes], the one whose screen name I can never remember made it his mission over the last weeks to organise a surprise partay for me for the weekend after - funnily enough, this weekend! That's why I haven't been posting for a while, because I thought I should wait until my birthday is officially over before I write about it. So, yeah - since I found out about his deviousness about a week ago, everyone involved refused to tell me anything about it despite all my begging which meant that when the 7 of us tumbled into the bowling alley I was genuinely surprised. I haven't improved any since last time but oh my God it was so much fun, with the mass pileons and photo shoots and mincing and ball fondling and sneaky Slush Puppy-special water cocktails [surprisingly delicious] and - seriously - up until about midnight it's the best birthday party I've ever had. I don't actually know how I can thank you enough, anonymous.
For my Lit coursework, I'm in the process of writing an essay [basically] about the differences between men and women - and of late I've been thinking about that. What makes us different? Why are women more likely to be sentimental and tidy and beautifully made up and artistic and soft and graceful and bloody skinny and good at cooking than men? Why do I not tick any of the boxes my gender dictates is right? It bothers me.
Quote of the Day: You're beautiful because, for you, politeness is instinctive, not a marketing campaign. I'm ugly because desperation is impossible to hide. [You're Beautiful, Simon Armitage]
PS - Anonymous - you were hammered. It was hilarious.
My day was one of those where everything happens the way you want it to, largely down to the fact it was generally just a really nice day, in a lot of small ways; I didn't have to run for the bus, I had nice lessons, the weather was nice, that kind of thing. Lunch was good. A group of us ambled into town and got a takeaway. Eating my way to imminent obesity was a perfectly amiable way to spend an hour of my life. Holy crap, I ate a lot that day. No word of a lie, I was a single muffin away from heart failure. After school, we went to my sister's, to hang out with the baby, which was so much more epic than I'm making it out to be. She made us cannelloni, which I've decided I'm going to learn to make at some point this year. They gave me a mug with Leo's footprints on it in yellow, which makes me very happy. The handle is rainbow-coloured.
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| I like it. |
For my Lit coursework, I'm in the process of writing an essay [basically] about the differences between men and women - and of late I've been thinking about that. What makes us different? Why are women more likely to be sentimental and tidy and beautifully made up and artistic and soft and graceful and bloody skinny and good at cooking than men? Why do I not tick any of the boxes my gender dictates is right? It bothers me.
Quote of the Day: You're beautiful because, for you, politeness is instinctive, not a marketing campaign. I'm ugly because desperation is impossible to hide. [You're Beautiful, Simon Armitage]
PS - Anonymous - you were hammered. It was hilarious.
2 comments:
In reply to your coursework question: You do not have to conform to your gender's stereotype, no one does. If society tries to dictate who you are, tell it otherwise.:)
Love <3!!
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