I love knowing that I have people who will always be there no matter what, and I love the fun we have together.
I love getting questions right on Univeristy challenge (my record is five) and I love scorning people when they say something ignorant (but I hate myself for that). I love being able to hear a song and say "I've seen them play this song live", I love the being there too.
I love my teeth but I obsess far too much. I love listening to an album that I haven't heard for ages, and feeling like I'm home, somehow. I love feeling like I belong and I'm jealous if nearly everyone who has a home and a past, because I don't know where my home is and my past is scattered between places and people I might never see again.
I love these Writer's Block things, because I never bother with my blog anymore, and I can also be lazy and cross-psot this to myspace, not that anyone there is likely to read it.
I love signing into myspace and having new messages, comments AND photo comments. It makes me smile. I love changing my profile as though it somehow reflects me. I love pretty things. I love to shop.
I don't want to finish, there are so many things I love, but I will, and I'll finish here.
Most of all, I love life :)
2) A large novel, so I'd have something to do while I was skint.
3) One of the cute cardis I saw in Asda Living, because I'd just love one.
So now all my exams are over until the summer :)
Even though I hate Wedenesdays, today was okay. French was tolerable, chemistry was fab (I-love-it!) and maths was .. tolerable too.
Beccy got her ear pierced at the top so we went with her, and then we went to Lloyds to continue the time-honoured (sort of) tradition of tea and dessert. Tragically, they wouldn't serve us as we're under 18. Grrr. They've always served us in the past. But then they don't usually see our school uniform. Dammmnnn.
That DID put a bit of a damper on things.
But I got my homework sorted at my Nanna's, so now I've got a little bit of free time in which to blog and watch (on the BBC iPlayer, which is incredibly snazzy and better than 4OD) stuff I missed while revising.
(x-posted to myspace/lj)
So, chemistry is tomorrow morning. I've just done some mor past papers. I am going to do a timed one in a minute, and then get a good night's sleep.
I can't be bothered with French at the minute though. We haven't got an exam in it until the summer, and I have a biology exam on Tuesday, but we've been set a chapter of vocabulary to learn by Tuesday, and I really cannot be doing with cramming vocab when I have an exam. I may just study in the library that day, then learn them, because I'm entitled to study leave that morning.
Anyway, dearest regards,
"This must be my lucky day," I thought. WRONG. It was out of order. But, pretty much undeterred, I trudged on to the other one. Thanks to the other machine being out of order, there was a HUGE queue, and I wasn't in the best of moods by the time I got to the front. I slotted my ten pound note in, heard a prolonged, painful-sounding whirring noise, and then the screen changed before the money went onto my account.
I checked my account again, and it stubbornly told me I had £1.10. Bloody brilliant. I'd just lost a tenenr to a machine. Machines don't have to eat. I do. For the next week, thank you very much. So I went and reported it, and was told to come back at the end of the day, and they'd have sorted it out and would have my money.
I had a double free this afternoon, so I left at five past three, to get there a little early. I was greeted with the (concedingly, apologetic) statement that the woman who was sorting the matter out had gone home, becayse she finished at three. Sorry, but I would have to come back in the morning to collect my money.
By now, I was feeling more than a little annoyed, and having had nothing to eat since my bran flakes at a quarter to seven in the morning, I was now more than peckish. I went back to the sixth form area, borrowed a piund off Lauren, and lined up at the machine once more.
Almost ten minutes later, when there was only one person in front of me in the queue, the machine decided to pack in completely. Whoever's finger was placed on the scanner, the machine rudely ignored it, not acknowledging it at all (though, at least, not stealing from its owner).
I gave in.
I hate technology.
I really do.
I hate how people moan at eachother when they don't make the Top 8. And how they make it out to be a big deal.
I hate it even more that you can tell someone's grown bored of you because they suddenly shift you down their top friends, underneath someone prettier and more fun. I it when you can't make a social function and a dear friend takes offence and decides you're no longer deserving of the top spot.
I hate how it gets to me.
But Peter Tatchell said the sexuality of the master wizard should have been made clear in the hit series of children's books.
Rowling "outed" Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore while appearing before a full house at Carnegie Hall in New York.
The award-winning writer's mega-selling fantasy series ended last summer with the seventh instalment, Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows.
After reading briefly from the final book, she took questions from the audience.
One young fan asked whether Dumbledore, one of the series' most popular characters, ever finds "true love".
"Dumbledore is gay," the author replied to gasps - and applause.
Gay human rights campaigner Peter Tatchell said: "It's good that children's literature includes the reality of gay people, since we exist in every society.
"But I am disappointed that she did not make Dumbledore's sexuality explicit in the Harry Potter book."
Rowling explained to the Carnegie Hall audience that Dumbledore had been smitten by rival character Gellert Grindelwald, whom he defeated long ago in a battle between good and bad wizards.
"Falling in love can blind us to an extent," Rowling said, adding that Dumbledore was "horribly, terribly let down".
She said the character's love for Grindelwald was his "great tragedy".
Potter fans had previously speculated on the internet about Dumbledore's sexuality, noting that he had no close relationship with women as well as a mysterious, troubled past.
Physically, I like my legs, my hips and my collarbone. I feel happy with them. I love my perfectly straight teeth and the colour of my eyes, but I dislike my nose: I'm forever finding fault with it in different ways. Although my skin is clear now, I feel really self-consious about the scarring from my early teens, and I usually try and cover them up with make-up.
Another thing I'm self-consious of are my scars - those of you who know me well will know what I mean - and I cover them up when I'm panicking about what people think. I dread the moment that someone will look a moment too long, and ask. I hate myself for those scars, and for the fact that I am weak. I hate the fact that I fall easily and hard for people. The wrong people.
But I like the fact that I know what I want from life, that I know where I want to go, to be. I like that I have plans, and that no matter how bad the present gets, the future is always there.