All Through The House.

Christmas was lovely, in the way it always is. Got some nice books, gloves, a scarf, chocolate, money....this is beginning to sound like a list of old people presents.....notebooks, make-up and a new phone. The goose has been eaten, mostly. On Christmas night I came downstairs to find my parents and grandparents gathered around the carcass literally picking at bones like a pack of hyenas.

The seasonal television has also been great this year, with Gavin and Stacey, Cranford and obviously Doctor Who. I'm looking forward to the Outnumbered Christmas special tonight.

Today we were visited by some more 'Relatives With Different Political Opinions,' (RWDPOs from now on.) The grandparents already have their different opinions, but now two more have shown up and we are as outnumbered as Hugh Dennis and Claire Skinner tonight at 10.30 on BBC. My Mum had to hide in the kitchen while they discussed their views on global warming. The RWDPOs tend to bother her a lot around this time of year.

Also, as if to welcome in the new stuff we got for Christmas, the old stuff is breaking. My brother's CD and tape player broke, but luckily he still has the iPod, my Granny broke the stepladder but doesn't know about it yet, as she'll feel bad, and the blade of the cheese knife was defeated by a particularly strong Welsh cheese. My Great Half-Aunt (although she would kill me if I called her that) gave me a ring which got temporarily stuck on my finger and had to be got off with soap.

Crazy times in this household.

EDIT:
Just to say, I am now watching the QI Christmas special on iplayer, and that I love Stephen Fry like another gay uncle and wish he could come round every Christmas so I could personally congratulate him on being awesome.

Christmas Eve Bloggins

Happy Christmas Eve everybody!
I have been having consistent fun since Katie's party, with Laura's crazy TV and film costume extravaganza and Zanny's house the day before yesterday, during which I ate way too much party food.

Yesterday the Austrian/Hungarian Grandparents arrived from Edinburgh at six o'clock in the morning, having had to take an overnight coach due to their plane being cancelled. I just picture the Polar Express whenever they refer back to this story.

And this evening the neighbours are coming over for traditional neighbourly Christmas fun. This has happened for as long as I can remember, from the days when we would all wear velvet for no reason, sing Christmas songs loudly from the landing and do row, row the boat with Jack, to nowadays, when we wear normal clothes and watch Christmas films. Although about three years ago we all did row, row the boat with Jack again out of nostalgia. I love Christmas Eve.

As Promised

As promised, it's a drunken blog post ladies and gentleman.

I think I feel a hangover coming on, like right now. Because it is technically the next morning and has been for twenty minutes, no, twenty-three minutes, and apparently I fell asleep for five minutes during the Happy Birthdays. Feeling a little headachy and sick at the mo which does not bode well for the actual morning, as in, after I have been actually asleep.

I can still use punctuation pretty well considering current inebriation, and spelling, which says good things for university. I said such a lot of crap to Laura's Dad in the car, possibly about my personal life, which Alex sang about. I hope it wasn't recorded and filmed for Christmas day television. I accidentally mixed drinks again sorry. Better not vomit all over the keyboard.

No-one was awake when I got in thank the lord and his many offspring, Goodnight.

Yesterday (briefly)

I had a lovely day yesterday. I don't think I have laughed that much for ages.

As has been voiced elsewhere, Mr. Napkin Head had us all weeping with laughter, and I accidentally gave Elise all of my money due to mathematical inability, but we sorted it out. The waiter was hilarious, although the hypothetical 'noodle incident' never happened. Secret Santa and card distribution was fun and wonderful. As was Christmas music, vaguely festive films and snow earlier in the day.

My Dad asked over lunch today; 'What goes between the dots in morse code?' the answer obviously being 'dash.' He is now in serious trouble for making fun of my grandmother's 'Oh Dash' catchphrase, and making me laugh inappropriately at mealtimes. Although not as much as we laughed yesterday at the high-fiving with the waiter.

Grandparents Make Mealtime Crazy

The seasonal influx of Grandparents has begun, with the Welsh lot arriving yesterday and the Austrian/ Hungarian lot arriving some time after the others have gone (the two do not mix well; not since a fight at my fourth birthday party about who got to make the sandwiches.)

Unfortunately, my mother has a slightly tense relationship with her mother, as they are very different in terms of world knowledge and culinary tastes. This means that she is currently slightly hysterical with the stress of discussing the right way to cook salmon, organising Christmas some more, and arguing with her parents over whether or not she ever wrote to them from university. Mealtimes are usually the worst, as my Granny will undoubtedly use her catchphrase 'Oh dash' (imagine that in a Welsh accent, with the 'oh' elongated, in fact, you've probably heard me imitating it anyway) and then my Dad and I will try and avoid laughing. It's our family's equivalent of 'what's occurin'?'

Anyway, this particular mealtime, my Mum was talking to my Grandparents about my Grandad's 'fancy woman,' or, to us modern day folk, the woman to whom he had once been engaged before he met my Granny. Then my Grandad started talking about someone called 'Marjorie the Gypsy,' at which point I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my drink, because I was confused and thought that Marjorie the Gypsy was his ex-fiancee.

Thank goodness she wasn't, because 'Marjorie the Gypsy' apparently had a grand total of two teeth, wore one man's boot and one man's shoe, and was apparently related to Tom Jones, because he has Welsh Romany Gyspy blood and my Mum described the Stop-And-Call Gypsies (that's actually the name of the town where my Grandad grew up) as 'one big Romany Gypsy family.' My Dad chose to interpret this as 'in-bred.'

Anyway, not my Almost-Grandmother; who I still know nothing about.

Lot of Happiness

History was cancelled so, unusually, I am at home in the middle of a Tuesday between English and Drama.

I have coffee, and when I commented on how we had digestive biscuits but they weren't chocolate digestives, my Mum had the genius idea of spreading nutella on them.

Not sure if I have ever been happier at 11.02 on a Tuesday morning.

Decorations and Preparations

My parents are currently on the landing outside my room, taking great care over exactly where to hang a paper Christmas tree. They are trying to decide which bar (preventing me from falling off the landing) to hang it from, and which angle, and the height. From the way they are talking about it, it sounds like serious business.

Almost as serious as the colour co-ordination of the Christmas tree, which I have never been a part of decorating as my Dad has to have a perfectly even spread of red and gold, which only he, as an architect, is capable of arranging. The mistletoe is hung in an obscure and rather dull corner of the dining room that no-one would ever consider kissing under, and my parents have printed off their e-mail contact list to write the Christmas cards in alphabetical order.

Not only do we have regimented decorations and a card production line, but every single meal has been planned until the day after boxing day. Today my Mum wrapped every single present and got, from the sound of it, incredibly furious with the sellotape, and my parents have been arguing over when exactly they're going to find a spare five minutes to put up my brother's Christmas lights before Friday.

Luckily, everything is going according to plan, as I came home from School one day in October to find my Mum making Christmas cake, Christmas pudding, and mince pies. October.

None of this is an exaggeration. We have a scarily efficient Christmas.

Frosty Day

It's very cold today. Socks-pyjamas-and-dressing gown cold.

I'm watching World's Strictest Parents. Every episode is the same; two British teenagers with deep-rooted emotional problems causing their anti-social behaviour, who go to a really strict, usually religious family in another country. At the beginning they are badly behaved and hate the family, and then they confront the fact that they were adopted/ have dead relatives/ brought up in a cupboard head on, start loving the foreign family, and then go home reformed and better people. At some point in the programme everyone cries. Such predictibility is very reassuring

Fun shopping trip with a little group of us today. The Christmas lights are pretty.

Writing

I am writing this blog in an attempt to reassure myself that I am still able to string words together in coherent sentences.
Basically, I came up with an idea on Sunday for my Original Writing Club play, then thought 'No, this is a cross between Sleepless in Seattle and the Friends episode where they're up all night' and scrapped it. Then I spent all of History today coming up with various ideas and dismissing them, until I panicked at how lunchtime was fast approaching and thought 'Um, ok...poverty.'
Now I have realised that I don't want to write a play about poverty, nor did I ever really want to in the first place. I could write a fifteen minute play on ANYTHING and I have no ideas. That's one of the problems which we also experienced in Drama; you have to narrow down what you want to write about before you can actually make any decisions.
I am also failing to write my Drama homework right now.

Oops

I sacrificed all of my homework to watch Love Actually with my mother. Now I have a mysteriously familiar French paper to do for tutor woman, which I think I may have done once before way back in the doom and gloom of the school language block.

My Mum tends to have a very emotional response to films, so she had to have a box of tissues on her lap, which I would occasionally turn around to find her sobbing into over the breakdown of Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson's fictional marriage, or at any happy part involving Colin Firth.

I should really do the French paper now, but I loathe it with every fibre in my being and am still attempting to put it off for as long as possible.

That is all.

Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly

Very few things in life make me happier than walking through the park on a cold, damp and miserable day, wearing my new boots and new-ish coat and listening to cheerful Christmas music.

On this kind of drizzly day there are not many people in the park, so if I walk around smiling like an idiot and mouthing the words to 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday' no-one really cares or notices. That's probably my favourite Christmas song by the way, along with the Band Aid one and the Slade one and Fairytale of New York. Some of the Christmas songs I have on my iPod, I've realised, are oddly repulsive, such as the Spice Girls cover of 'Sleigh Ride,' (Annoyingly, I like the actual song, just hate the bits at the beginning and end of just them talking) and the Billie Piper version of 'Last Christmas' rather than the actual Wham version. Silly Billie.

Oh no, the stupid talking at the beginning of 'Sleigh Ride' has started. I wonder if it's still too early to be listening to Christmas music in the first place. But then, my brother has been listening to it since November, and occasionally in July when we can't find anything else he wants to listen to, so I couldn't help it.

I'm going to watch Love Actually tomorrow, I just can't hold it in any longer.

Maximum Bleh

I have done 2 infernal hours of French work, that went on until 6.50 because the French Lady was 20 minutes late.
I have not had dinner because my Dad isn't home yet.
I missed a train, except that turned out ok because French Lady was late anyway, and forgave me for not having done the homework.
My feet are cold, having recently got very wet in the rain, which is why I am now wearing my old school hockey socks in a feeble attempt at warmth.
I am so sleepy.
But it is ok, because my Dad just arrived home while I was typing and now I get to go downstairs and eat something involving mozarella, but I am not sure what.
Also, M+S Christmas Meal Deal lunch thing is lovely and festive. And Ms E gave me one of the advent calendar chocolates in History today despite the fact that I stared blankly at the Lenin video all lesson, to encourage me to participate more. I feel sufficiently encouraged by chocolate.

Homework Fail

I have been unproductive all day. Seriously unproductive. I read a bit, I watched TV a bit, I browsed the internet a bit, and lunch somehow took positively ages. I meant to do my History homework and my French tutor re-sit homework today, but have done neither.
The French I am a little worried about, as I don't know how sympathetic French Lady is with lack of homework. I meant to do it, it was just that it was from a weird educational French magazine and I had to download the activities off the internet. I downloaded them ok but couldn't open an effective way to play them on the computer. As French Lady is always having computer issues when she tries to give me listening exercises, I hope she'll be understanding about that. The fact that I left it today and didn't e-mail her for help may be the real issue.
I literally brought on this homework myself, because I glimpsed an article in the French magazine while I was there about a French thief in the 1800s called 'Arsene Lupin,' and I was like 'Huh? Lupin?' and asked her what it was about. She took my interest as being 'Hey, give me some French homework from this magazine please.' What a fail.
Anyway, I also haven't done my history, for no reason other than laziness and the fact that it's harder to make a fact sheet on a government than just one leader. In other thoughts from today, the rain was so loud against my skylight in the early hours of this morning that I thought the glass would break.

Recent Bits Of My Life

The laptop is fixed, and I am currently on it while watching the sexy new television, which is exciting.
I had a good time at Liz's Party last night, got a little inebriated and remember many amusing moments from the party. I was witness to a lot of bizarre events, which I then incorrectly remembered. My parents find this sort of thing very entertaining, particularly my Dad, who pretended that it was Alcoholics Anonymous on the phone when Jess rang.
Today I went to Watford, so I am now feeling tired and still a little nauseous. And now I'm cold. There is an advert break, so I'm going to go and put earrings in. I would also like to thank Jane for lending me some excellent DVDs to watch tonight. An advert is now on that I hate, the one for vodafone where the guy tries to get chat up lines from his friend and says 'catch a goat you've pulled.' Now it's a scary climate change advert, I'm leaving.

Oh Yes She Did

Well, the film was reasonably O.K. It would have actually gone as far as being almost good if it wasn't for that Edward Sullen showing up and spoiling it all. The film was getting pretty interesting and then he would show up looking ill, like the reanimated corpse of Cedric Diggory, and be like; "Hey Bella, I'm here to ruin your life and the film." I realise that 'reanimated' was the wrong word. He really was not particularly animated. Other than that it was a lot better than the first film, more plot and less "Hey, look at my expressionless, pretty face."
Laptop fixed tomorrow. Hoorah. And my parents today installed the big, new, sexy television, shoving the old one into my brother's room; now the only venue for watching videos, presumably on bean bags.
Also, back to films; there was an advert on in the cinema for a film called 'The Wolfman,' or possibly just 'Wolfman.' Now New Moon has come out, and the tweenage fangirls are being converted to 'Team Jacob', are werewolves the new vampires? Interesting.

Oh No She Didn't

I threw many of my principles out of the window.
I rang Catriona, to say 'Catriona, would you like to go to town?' And she said; 'I was just about to ring you, me and Zanny are going to see New Moon tonight and we have a spare ticket, only £5.50 on student discount, would you like to come? Oh and I can't come to town etc.'
Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. I saw the first film, which was a lot of ridiculous close-ups of pale people glaring, and then sparkling in a way that made me think the screen had gone fuzzy. I went to the toilet half way through the film, returned and found that nothing had changed.
According to my English teacher, who went to see New Moon at the midnight release and was therefore practically asleep in the lesson yesterday, film two is more about topless werewolves than sparkly angst-ridden fail. Therefore I am hoping that it is MARGINALLY better. I hope. Also I think some slightly-more-badass-but-still-kinda-lame vampires are meant to show up.
Seeing as I watched the trailer on TV with an expression of horror on my face, I expect this to be a very entertaining/ traumatic evening. I'm sorry Buffy, and possibly Lupin.
Expect a review later.

In other news, had an excellent HP marathon with Zanny last night. Good times with "What's under a dementor's hood? Your mum's face!"

Extreme Stress Levels

Today my laptop died, with the hard drive breaking for the second time in its short existence of about a year and a half. This led to me entering a level of stress I had not previously believed possible, as even though I got very stressed last time it broke, this time I lost the English essay I spent around two and a half hours writing yesterday, amongst other things.
The symptoms of these extraordinary levels of stress involved hanging around outside the door while my Mum very kindly rang the helpline, screaming: 'DON'T TOUCH ME!' if anyone tried to give me a hug and going into an English essay re-writing frenzy. As well as talking a whole lot faster than normal, like a Gilmore Girl on drugs.
Normally I don't think I would have re-written it, except that I knew I had good points to make. I also reckon I improved on it since the last time, so ultimately all is well, except that I haven't done my drama homework and don't know if I will.
The Man will be coming to give it a new hard drive within the next five days. I really hope it's while I'm at school because I know otherwise I'll get unimaginably stressed while waiting for him to fix it. Oh dear, it's just a lump of technology. Like whenever I lose my iPod, or my laptop dies, I wish it was my very old phone. I hereby sacrifice my phone to the god of Technology if he or she looks after everything else.

Procrastinating Right Now

It has finally stopped raining, which hopefully means an end to all the pathetic fallacy happening this week. They really should not have taught us about pathetic fallacy, as I'll never look at weather the same way again.
Currently sleepy, and I should be writing an essay about Kennedy (as in the President) that I don't really understand. Or reading The Handmaid's Tale, which is beginning to scare me as what if everything in that book will actually happen? Oh well.
Had a fun-filled matricide week in Drama, including poetry that didn't really seem to have much to do with anything, and which we had to read outside in the cold so we could feel the right atmosphere. I thought that the whole point of description in books/ poems was that you imagined the atmosphere. At least it wasn't a poem about slow, excruciating pain.
I am hungry. I'm going to go and have a digestive biscuit. This is not particularly interesting. Also what a weird name for a biscuit, if you think about it.

Gayday

Today we are experiencing an influx of homosexual relatives, with a visit from my gay uncle and my lesbian third cousin, who have only met each other once previously at my parent's wedding, but got along famously well on that one occasion.
Cue appalling suggestions from my Dad that they share the spare room bed, turn straight and then run away together, which seems somehow unlikely. Also, my uncle keeps reciting 'lesbian limericks,' which I think is preparation for her arriving later this evening. My Dad has now gone on a business trip, which hopefully means an end to the suggestive and inappropriate comments, although not the limericks.
Having not been around at the time of my parent's wedding, I have absolutely no idea what craziness will ensue when the gay relatives meet. I do not know if the house can cope with so much awesome contained in one building, or how many gay pop culture references I can resist making.
Also, at the fireworks last night, it was very muddy and two men fell on me. When I told my uncle this, he said: "I wish that would happen to me."

Annespirations

Today happened. Weirdness ensued. I have absolutely no idea how the conversational standard descended into such bizarrity but it was mighty entertaining and hard to explain. In short:
"Is it annebird? Is it anneplane? No! It's Anneman Lauraman!"
"Guest starring Anne-thony Head."
"BritAnneia Music Shop"
"Annethrax"
"And they live with their dog; Annecat."
I have no idea what any of this actually means. I think there was something strange in either the diet coke or the paninis.
Also the Joss Whedon underwear shop called 'Brrr aaaa" (like Bra, but Grr Arggh) makes me think that we possibly consumed a small amount of drugs masquerading as innocent bread. In other news, the holiday conversation was nicely sorted out without descending into Annearchy.
I decided that technically Annespirations are people with my hair colour that I can dress up as for fancy dress parties. Such as Monica from Friends, Dark Willow and anyone played by Helena Bonham Carter. Who Catriona and Zanny get to sing to.

Halloween

Halloween Gathering #1:
At Zanny's. Dressed as Drusilla, alongside Buffy and Spike. We had a great time tying each other up, which sounds like geeky bondage porn, but was actually a game to try and eat party rings and marshmallows from a piece of string. Who am I kidding, it was geeky bondage porn.
Also I could not breathe in the corset I was wearing, and I hid from sparklers. Walking back in the dark under a closed bridge at 11.00 in the rain was an interesting experience; in high heels, with a giant stake that was actually a cricket wicket. I am very glad we were not raped, not just because of the obvious disadvantages of rape, but because the headlines in the morning would have been embarassing due to the costumes, and the fact that I was singing 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.'

Halloween Gathering #2
This one, I have to say, was even weirder, mainly as I was not with my normal group of loyal companions. My main reason for going was that I could go as Bellatrix and draw a dark mark on my arm in eyeliner, which was fun. Now, some people at the party had a disturbing pagan ritual, because one girl there wanted to initiate another girl into her 'wolf cult' (I have literally no idea.) This involved speaking either real or pretend Welsh, I wasn't sure, and praying to the four elements, then howling at the moon. There was going to be a blood brothers type blood ritual thing, but then thankfully the girl being initiated got too squeamish. I have to say, I was a little bit skeptical about the whole pagan wolf cult pack thing.

Next year, I'll need to think of more evil fictional women to go as.

Ow

I am ill with the plague that's going round at the moment.
My temperature is 39 degrees, I am currently lying in bed with a cold flannel on my head, I've mostly drank lemon barley water all day and I am generally not feeling too great. As well as being pissed off that I couldn't go to town today or Zoe from CoT's birthday party tomorrow, I overheard my parents worrying that I have swine flu (I reckon we probably all do) and worried that I might pass it to Jack, who has underlying medical conditions. Therefore I am as far away from his room as physically possible without leaving the house, even if it isn't la grippe porcine.
The one amazing thing that's happened today is that I was trying to watch a DVD this morning, but the player that's been playing up for ages would not work no matter how many times we hit it. Then I fell asleep on the sofa, and when I woke up there was a new DVD player, because the gadget fairy had gone out and bought one.
I am ridiculously boiling.

School Fail

According to my form tutor UCAS reference, I play a wide variety of extra-curricular sport, particularly basketball, football and tennis. I also achieved bronze level at the Duke of Edinburgh awards.
I am outraged that the secret of my amazing sporting prowess is out in the open. Now I might as well tell everyone how I play piano to a professional level, in between singing in the West End and playing Dr. Kelso on Scrubs. All this while suffering a huge amount of prejudice for being a tall, black man with obscenely blond hair.
Yes, that's right, my entire life has been an elaborate lie. The things you learn about yourself from reading your UCAS reference. It may not have been her fault, but I have no idea how I'm going to sit through a meeting about my drama progress tomorrow without throwing things at my form tutor and crying. Or at least, you know, mentioning it.

Oh No No No No

Points from my weekend in Wales:

1. My Granny makes lovely roast dinners, but three in a weekend was just too much.
2. Twenty-four hour antihistamine is wonderful.
3. We didn't even bother to visit a university in the end; we were too lazy.
4. A little confession now, honestly the part I enjoy most about going there (apart from when it's sunny and we swim in the sea) is the 5 and a half hour car journey. I love listening to music and daydreaming.

Everyone is ill at the moment; hopefully having been varying degrees of ill for a month I am now immune. Although, logically that makes no sense, I should be more vulnerable.
Also I enjoyed not going to the Sixth Form Social, and now have an unprecedented number of bat-shaped chocolate chip biscuits to eat.
The title of this blog, by the way, relates to the Musical Extravaganza that was Drama. Actually, I didn't fully appreciate when told I had to sing that it was drunken singing, so actually it was ok and not scary. Apart from the Tension Cakes of the lesson.

Insomnia

Can't sleep, probably because of the school trip to see The Woman in Black.
Very, very scary. If my cupboard door glows red in the night I will be severely freaked out. Also 'Anthony Head! Positions!"
I have to say, as if we really needed another virtually meaningless Anthony Head related in-joke to go with 'MMBUFFY.' Thinking about it, 'MMBUFFY' came about last October, so it must be an annual thing. The Virtually Meaningless Anthony Head Related In-Joke 2009. God I'm exhuasted.
Off to the land of Wales tomorrow. Where roast dinners are eaten, allergies are had, and there is nothing to do but read. This is actually good as I have a lot of reading to do. I actually love my Granny's roast dinners, it's just three in one weekend with no variation in the vegetables or potatoes gets a little difficult. Also I don't really know if this will be a 'Hey let's go to the beach' trip seeing as we are checking out Aberystwyth University, which I am fairly certain is probably not one of my five.
I am going to have creepy nightmares tonight, of Women in Black doing the Anthony Head position, most likely. Sleeeeepy.

Cruel World

I have to go to French tuition between 4.30 and 6.30 to help me retake the paper I failed. Now, don't get me wrong, the French lady is nice and everything, and it's useful, but I never, ever want to go and sit there for two hours realising just how much French I've forgotten since June.
As if that wasn't enough, my generally kindly but often scatterbrained form tutor has roped me into helping out with open evening, which is very pointless as I will be arriving late anyway. So French for two hours, followed by open evening from 6.45 til about nine. For all she knows I could still be ill, and suffering from glandular fever exhaustion. And I will have to eat dinner at about 9.15. Oh extreme laziness.
On the plus side, I am off to watch Gilmore Girls, which is such a ridiculously gentle and cheerful programme that it can't help but make me feel a bit more positive about my afternoon.

LATER:
Because I do not feel like doing two actual blog posts in one day, instead I am just tacking another little one on the end of this one. Shocking, I know. Anyway, forgot to mention my aforementioned form tutor's delightful game she played with me this morning. So I walk into Drama, and she says:
"I read your personal statement. It was terrible; you're never going to go to university."
Naturally I stood there a little stunned and concerned.
Then she goes: "Only joking!" Cheers for that, Miss. Open day was actually pretty fun, but French was arduous. I don't feel like sleeping, so instead I am attempting to write my history essay, so I don't have to write it tomorrow and can waste time instead.

Today etc.

Today I queued up for the whole of break and a lot of English waiting to have a cervical cancer jab, getting overheated and nervous because I thought I was going to have a jab, and because it was a crowded queue. Then I went in and was told that, as I suspected, glandular fever equals no jab for me right now. So it's delayed until the 6th November, when I'll be having my first jab along with a bunch of year tens having their second jab and thinking: "What's that sixth former doing here?"
In other news, Laura bought a Spike coat. I don't know why I would blog about that when it was on her blog, but it was awesome. Also, my Drama piece was a slight fail, because our concept was 'hey, lets have smiley faces and sad faces,' and 'let's have Anne beat up Ben.' Oh well.
Also I will have 'Runway Three' and Zanny's 'Horror Horror Horror Macbeth has killed Duncan' in my head for ever. What's with all the song writing recently? Speaking of English lesson fun (Zanny's song, not Runway Three) our English lessons have gotten a little weird lately. what with Maddy comparing Lucy Westenra's blood transfusions to gang rape, and Miss Catton inadvertently suggesting we all watch True Blood, by telling us it's far too gory and sexual for her to recommend it to us, but that she really likes it.
Also, funniest thing I heard today was that a year 12 fainted on Robyn during the cervical cancer injection party.

Oh, That Explains A Lot

Chances are, I never had a chest infection or penicillin allergy. I definitely never had a chest infection. It was all a tangled web of deceit, misdiagnosis and lies.
So, I got home today to find a message on the answerphone, telling me they had the results of my blood test of last Monday, and that I had glandular fever.
The cold I had at the beginning of term, which became a fortnight long cough, was glandular fever. The doctor misdiagnosed it, as often happens with glandular fever, as a chest infection, and prescribed me Amoxillin Penicillin (pay attention, kids, this is a science lesson.)
It turns out, in 99% of cases, Amoxillin incorrectly prescribed to someone with glandular fever will react with the fever and create a massive, red, all-body rash. Which explains why the doctors were like; 'Oh, must check for glandular fever' when I went in with my 'penicillin allergy.'
So basically, I am probably not actually allergic to Penicillin, it just didn't like my glandular fever very much. That said, my Uncle is allergic to it, and I still COULD be, just the glandular fever thing makes a lot more sense.
Now I am starting to worry that I may be a bit responsible for the September Plague which swept school. Also I've been LIVING A LIE.

Super Well

I deleted my previous blog post about half an hour after writing it, because it was ranting about an issue which was then resolved. Felt kind of mean because I was complaining about my parents, and then they started being very helpful. Because I am incapable of being angry at them for prolonged periods of time, I won't do 'parental rant' posts in future, as I'll just look back and feel guilty.
Apart from the faint remnants of a rash, I am now well again. Weirdly well in fact; I've been feeling oddly perky all day. 'Super Well.' I've been walking around feeling really positive about small things, like chewy vimto sweets, and DVDs, and shoes. However, while I was at school today my grandmother asked my Mum if she could secretly read my personal statement while I was at school. Thankfully, my Mum's instant response was 'absolutely no way, it's Anne's.' It is very hard to maintain the peace with grandparents in the house, but they are gone back to Scotland now.
Oh balls, it's quarter past midnight and I have not even looked at my Twelfth Night lines. I'm guessing 'I was ill' is not going to cut it with Rolo. I can't even show her my arms and look tired any more, I'll just look 'Super Well.'

Pretentiousness

Yesterday the Grandparents from Edinburgh showed up. I say from Edinburgh, but they're completely not, they just live there. Also today my Uncle returned (I have no idea where from, he dropped by last week as well, but lives in the Lake District. Who knows where he was in the meantime.) And some distant relatives from Canada, all in the house, all having a very pretentious family meal.
It was the first non-comfort food meal I've had in a while and was really nice, but I ate too much brie. Even the conversation was pretentious. There was a very long, reasonably dull discussion about which was better: Pacific or Atlantic Salmon (Atlantic, in case you were wondering.) I kind of sat there looking tired and occasionally speaking but not very often.
Got a fortune cookie, from the Chinese my parents had the other day, saying 'You will solve a problem by sheer force of will.' I never believe in those things, but I had a funny mental image of myself sitting down in front of the computer and screaming "Personal Statement!" at it until it re-drafts it for me. Finally, I am no longer red on my arms but a sort of light pink. Good times. Knees still bad.

Not Currently in Drama

I should be in Drama right now. As it is, I am still not feeling great.
Facebook is not working, nor, it appears, is my antihistamine. I will be in for History tomorrow, my only lesson. If anyone reading this sees my arms in school at any point, please recoil in sympathetic disgust as opposed to mean, 'run-from-the-leper' disgust.
The Doctor yesterday took one look at my arms and said 'My God, that's a great rash.' He then went out into the waiting room, saw my Mum and said 'Your daughter has a great rash.' It's everywhere from the neck down, so the only part anyone is likely to see tomorrow is my hands, which are not that bad. Oh, and then they gave me a blood test and I nearly fainted. Like Lucy Westenra.
Which reminds me, I should be writing my English essay. Also, Jane, in case I don't catch you on MSN later, if you want the next Buffy DVD meet me tomorrow at the beginning of break (I know both our school days end then) at the school gate, ideally the one opposite reception, and we can do a swap.
God, I'm bored. And somewhat itchy and very unattractive.

Flocking Hell

My resumé of disturbing medical ailments is beginning to look ridiculous; but this morning it is five and a half billion times worse. My face is bright red and swollen, and my rash is bright red and everywhere in a way that screams 'Probably not going to be in Drama tomorrow if I still look like this.' I look like I ran into a house made of stinging nettles and then was stung to death by bees before being beaten on the face repeatedly with an inflatable bat, and then got really, really embarrassed by the whole thing.
I just got off the phone with a very nice lady from NHS direct, who says that it is too late in the allergic reaction to go into anyphalactic shock, which I have to say is fabulous news. I will only be in School tomorrow if my face has gone down enough to pass as 'flushed excitement for the new school week, combined with a charming rosy tinge.'
Also, I have so far used my current quarantine to write half of my English essay, read and watch yesterday's Merlin and lots of Smack the Pony, so am feeling a bit cheered up.

Royal Holloway

Went to Royal Holloway, University of London today.

I have to say, amazing. It was literally a castle. Like an actual castle. Look at it....so weird. The accomodation was a strange attic, and there were statues in the courtyards, and even the people were mostly pretty. It was like the University of Hogwarts. From the slopy skylight of the cheapest student accomodation I could see one of the turrets.

Only issue was the grades, one A more than I'm likely to possibly get, although having French as well may help a bit. And also it is a little too close to home maybe, and actually not that close to any kind of town centre despite being a college of the University of London.

Anyway, last night I went spontaneously babysitting for 11 year old Peter nextdoor, who is very easy to babysit because he's quite independent and well-behaved, and I watched a repeat of last week's Merlin. To my slight surprise, I enjoyed it, and not just because of King Giles (although that was very lovely.) I may have to continue to watch it, but on iplayer, because 6.40 or whenever ALWAYS clashes with dinner.

Oh yeah, and some people in Royal Holloway looked at me like I was crazy because I went into the Science Library just so I could look at the fake electronic fish tank in the floor.

Sarcastic Yay

I am allergic to Penicillin.
This explains a LOT about the past few days. Like why, since taking the antibiotics, I have been getting bad headaches, and feeling ridiculously over-tired, and having strange temperature fluctuations and random aches and pains in my arms, legs and general joints.
My first though was Swine Flu, but this morning's rash all over my legs would suggest otherwise. And the fact that my Mum rang the doctor, who said: "Yeah, that's a penicillin allergy."
I am amazed that I am able to write a blog with this level of tiredness, but hey, I wrote my personal statement while even more exhausted. Not going to Teens tonight, so I'll have a chance to legitimately collapse.
Also I love my Uncle, because he picked me up from school in his car.

Surrey etc.

Well, on Sunday night I was on the phone to Australia from 10.15 until 11.30, ringing my obscure relative Jacqui about University courses. I mean 'obscure' in the distant sense, not because she's really weird or anything. It was actually very, very useful, even the bit when two-year-old Cully wandered in crying because her big brother had hit her with a toy train.
And then yesterday I went to the land of Surrey. I loved the course, because it's not really pretentious but you still get to study both the old stuff and the new stuff. The university itself I was not so sure about, because it looked like somewhere you could hold a West Side Story-style turf war. I said 'Here is where we can do battle with rival sororities,' and my Mum said: 'No Anne, that's America.'
From today, I have to say that I don't understand why holding bits of rostra in Drama makes your hands smell funny, but it does.

Lazy Afternoon

I have not really had the most thrilling of weekends. Here is the brightside:
1. I made some more UCAS-related progress yesterday.
2. I can now swallow my scary Beaumont-coloured pills using the highly effective 'Blake method.'

And here is the downside:
1. I still have a long way to go with the UCAS, and my parents keep reminding me of things to do every so often. (Read that sentence as nagging me of things to do a lot of the time.)
2. Everybody's a little twitchy due to Jack having an epileptic fit this morning, which is not dangerous but still a bit alarming.

At some point I may do the countdown thing, but right now I am too lazy. Also I am close to the end of Dracula, but this morning I read all of a tacky, teenage short story, and then read two pages of Dracula, and then fell asleep on my beanbag.
It's because I love all the other characters, but Van Helsing is beginning to irritate me. Please Dr. Van Helsing, stop talking in metaphors.

Friday Ravetimes

I went to the doctors about the cough. I have some form of mild chest infection and need to take strange Beaumont-coloured antibiotics; literally half maroon and half yellow. Unfortunately I am not great at swallowing pills, and ended up spending about ten minutes over the sink pouring copious glasses of water down my front while my Dad laughed at me.
He then was like: "Look, it's easy," and got a bit of chocolate chip biscuit and swallowed it. Then he demonstrated again, until he accidentally chose a really big bit of biscuit and started choking. It was, I have to say, not greatly reassuring. I eventually, covered in water and surrounded by bits of 'practice biscuit' managed to swallow the darn pill.
More cheerfully, Company of Teens started yesterday with a whole lot of new people including someone called Dave from Trestle. The new people seem nice, although we are currently having some issues with an unfriendly girl from last term, but she's a definite minority.
Also, for the record, and I don't know if she reads this: Jessie is not bad, if you like that sort of thing. Which I do.

Broken Things In The House and More Coughing

I now have a doctor's appointment for the coughing, which has progressed to running out of breath when I walk, talk and when I walk and talk at the same time. I wanted to get one today but we couldn't get one, so now I have to go at 5.40 tomorrow. Can't be bothered really seeing as I'd prepared myself to go today and now have to spend another day coughing for no reason.
In other news, we are going to get a new DVD player, because with the current one the films always freeze, and then you have to pick the player up and hit it really hard. And then it still freezes again after a while. More excitingly, my mother is thinking of buying an espresso machine. I'm not entirely sure what that entails, but she said it'll mean we can make actual cappucinos, which is exciting.
I for one think we should start a coffee shop. Our surname is unusual and could easily become a household name. I decided not to put the surname in the blog, only because my grandparents spend a lot of their time googling it (really, it's their main hobby.) Anyway, yes, coffee shop. It would be great; we could have those little cardboard containers.

Cough Cough

I have been coughing all day. It is worse when I walk, which is annoying, because I had to walk to and from school, and also to and from Laura's at lunch, and I had to keep stopping to cough a lot.
I have had a lot of hot lemon, to little avail. Will have more later. In more cheerful news, I finally watched Dr. Horrible, twice, this weekend. Now possibly might watch for a third time, or at least have on in the background. It was really very excellent.
Also, How I Met Your Mother has gone from not being funny (in the first episode) to actually being funny. Which is always good. And-um, I really need to finish Dracula. I'm getting to the 'just kill him already' stage.
And my what an innuendo-ridden drama lesson we had to day. And Jane needs to follow this blog. I don't know why I put that on the blog when I assume if she read it she would follow it.
Still coughing. I keep thinking of how Kate Winslet coughs all the way through Finding Neverland and it foreshadows her death. This is not good.

Edit: My despicable error; Jane does follow my blog. I assumed it was Laura because Laura said something along the lines of "I follow your blog." You're Laura and you lie, Lorelai. Or you're invisible. An invisible Lorelai Gilmore.

Who Exactly Is Beatrice?

Just got back from a family party with really obscure relatives. My Granny's brother's wife's sister and her family. I pretty much by the end of the afternoon could work out who everybody was and how I was related to them, except this one woman called Beatrice.
Neither my Mum nor Dad had any idea who she was either. We had this conversation:
Me: Mum, who's Beatrice?
Mum: I have no idea, your Dad will know.
Me: Dad, who's Beatrice?
Dad: Who?
Me: The one who looks like Sue Perkins.
Dad: No idea.
Who knows. Maybe it was Sue Perkins using a false name. I have never had more people coming up to me, hugging me and telling me I look so much like my Granny. Except at the last obscure family gathering.

Continuation of the Coffee Story

So in the end I did not get my mocha, but put five pounds on my magic finger for future use. (Oh, and as I discovered last night, Gold Blend tastes not that great.)
But Elise and I decided to go and have coffee and lunch at my house, and lunch was very successful but the coffee machine broke. So tonight I walked to Morrisons and a lovely woman told me that they didn't serve takeaway cappuchino in the cafe, but she could for me. So she put a cappuchino in a makeshift takeaway cup (two disposable coke glasses slotted together) and it only cost me a pound.
It was very nice of her because otherwise I'd have hard to sit in a cafe on my own while it got dark outside.
Not all my blog posts will be rambling about coffee, but I am very happy with my cappuchino.
And with how Drama went today, and that Elise and I put marshmallows in chocolate sauce and then ate it with spoons.
Oh dear. I have not eaten proper vegetables in a very long time.

Dracula and Mochas

I am very excited about the new canteen. All I have seen so far is how incredibly green it is. And I've had half of Zanny's mocha (she let me.)
Alex and I have an exciting post-lesson Mocha plan for tomorrow, which Miss Catton said was sad, because who plans their coffee a day in advance?
The answer is: I do.
Which leads me nicely into my next point; Miss Catton's Dracula lessons. We also have Chaucer with Mrs Proudfoot, who is so hilarious I tried to look her up on wikiquote yesterday evening. However Chaucer is not so fun, even though I found the word 'cardynacle', which means heart attack.
Dracula lessons are fun because Miss Catton is a big gothic enthusiast, and the majority of the class (ie. Me, Maddy, Liz and Robyn) are massive keenos. So we basically talk about feminism in Dracula, what kind of shoes he would wear and how much we fancy Dr. Seward.
Also speaking of coffee, tonight, following Laura's suggestion, I'm going to celebrate the penultimate night of being home alone by breaking into the Gold Blend. Which is the perfect way to combine coffee and vampires.

I Have Succumed To Peer Pressure

Yes. This is my blog.
I say yes to a blog, no to twitter. (For now, who knows how easily I will be led.)
Currently I have no parents, except via phone calls. This means I am watching more TV than I am used to, and it is very difficult to type while watching a very funny episode of Friends. And on facebook, and with a headache.
Important points from today:
1. The woman in the exams office is scary.
2. I liked the supervillain idea in Drama, but maybe it wouldn't have come across as 'A2' enough.
3. My parents are probably swimming in a lake in Canada right now. Except probably not my Dad, because he is afraid of lakes.

I would add that Jane is deceboobed and Laura has eight penii, but then I'm asking for a hermannephrodite reply.
And hooray, two lessons tomorrow!

Also, who knows how often I will update this?