Woe is me. Sort of.

I can't help but feel rather traumatised.

Today started off with some promise. I had the horror that is a politics test before lunch, but the point was that I had no lessons. Today is Review Day, apparently.

Now, you will probably all know of my dealing with scary Joan. Well, actually, you all won't, since I have ben befriending people and vice versa, but she is a scary personal tutor. She's also about 800. At any rate, I go up to find my review time, and... I'm not there.

Well, I felt hurt, so off I went to find her. She looked mildly horrified, and then informed me that I would have my review at lunch. Oh, yay.

So, I spent the rest of my morning cheerfully revising for politics. I was ready for this, dude. I really was.

And I sat down to do it, and *whoosh*. Everything I ever knew about pressure groups went out of the window, including various things about civil servants, backbench commitees and the Grant Insider/Outsider model.It was traumatic. I completely forgot the lot. I have now stuffed it all up, but there we are.

Went to see Joan. Was complimented by subject teachers. I also have to read 'The Oxford History Of Britain' for history. She then asked me "So, are you going to the Oxbridge meeting?"

This is the third time I have been told asked if I'm going to Oxbridge. And I'd like to. But you know what? I can't. My GCSE grades, ironically enough, are not good enough to get me through the mass of applications, bearing in mind that there will be no gap years this year due to top-up fees.

So, I stonily replied "No" and left it at that. It is Not Fair. I don't mind that I'm not going to Oxbridge, and I don't mind my GCSE grades. I'm still proud of getting no 'C's. (We don't talk about that pesky D in music anymore.) But really, I wish people would stop looking at me in a funny way every time I tell them by GCSE results, and say "Oh, right," in that condescending tone of voice.

On the plus side, have been predicted four A's. Wheeeeee!

Anyway, I went to English after lunch and a brief detour to Orrell, and then I got on the bus. Silly bus journey home, but then due to girly fight thing between Dobbin and myself, necklace broke.

I could have cried. Dude, it's my Lucky Necklace. I have this horrible superstitious thing about beaded necklaces - I don't know why. I just do. They're my things. And now it is gone, and I couldn't find a new one in New Look or Dotty P's or anything. *wails*

So, a trip to Quiggins for me over half term to get me a beaded necklace. I said I was going to drag flickerswitch over, anyway.

My stomach has been really tense all day. Is weird. Haven't felt this sort of generic muscle pain for a while, and I forgot how much I missed it.

Speaking of muscle pain, I'm experimenting with exercise again tomorrow. I shall go swimming. Ormskirk baths are still closed for refurbishment, but Skem's are still open. And guess who has to get off at the Concourse to get the connecting lunchtime bus home?

Tonight, I will be watching a History Thing on channel 2. Looks rather entertaining, and features Monty Python people, apparently. So that's me done for the evening.

Yum, I smell chips. (I said I was going to exercise, not be healthy.)

~Hathy_Col~

(no subject)

Alright. I'm really, horribly sad and I freely admit this.

I just spent an absolutely cracking half hour watching 'Terry Jones Medieval Lives' on BBC2. Yes, the Monty Python Bloke does my pet subject.

Feel the squee.

I was already in a British comic mood, after my sister came downstairs and declared that she needed a poem for geography about volcanoes. Random student type thing, apparently.

My response?

"Boom boom boom boom
Boom boom boom boom
Boom boom boom boom
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!"

Dad creased up. Mum and Megan didn't get it, and Megan haughtily informed me that it was supposed to be about feelings. (What, the feeling of the volcano? Geography has changed since I was taking my Options. Wow, three years ago. Scary.)

So, off I toddled to watch the history thing. And you know what? I really enjoyed it. It was silly. It was funny. It had Terry Jones, and cheap jokes about jugs. I was happy.

So, that's what I'm doing next Monday. Except I'm not. I am, as opposed to my previous St Valentines Day Massacre, now going and watching much Stargate at shipperkitten's house. purpleraindow has, understandably run away screaming bowed out, which leaves two S/D shippers but-also-slashers fighting against the S/J shippers. I can't help but bring to mind a quote from POTC: "So this how it's to be, eh? Two immortals fighting to the end of time?" "Well, yes. Or you could just surrender."

It shall be fun. Despite how guilty I feel for not seeing Simon as promised. Such is life.

And finally... I confess. I really like the new Britney Spears song. And now just because of the jawdroppingly sexy video. (I'm sixteen. I have hormones. Leave me alone.) I am currently dancing around to it on the radio and trying to sing. Except I can't. Well, it's better than bloody 'Mysterious Girl' isn't it?

I'll go and hide in shame now.

~Hathy_Col~