A Curious Girl: Boys, parties, boys, and looks. Superficial? Like /whatever/!

A musical moment!!!

You put your bus ticket in, you take your bus ticket out, in, out, in, out, shake it all about. The machine won't stop bleeping and you're ready to shout; that's what it's all about. (repeat 50 times)

Oh! On the buses,

Oh! on the buses,

If you want a ride, pay cash! cash! cash!

I hate those stupid ticket machine things. You put your ticket in and usually it tells you you're in a invalid zone or some other crap, when it worked perfectly well this morning.

Never mind. I never got around to finishing off telling you about my day yesterday, so here goes...

Chemistry was boring. English was dull. BUT I went to the Pillow Fight Auction, which Chris was helping out with, and whilst I was there, I thought I might as well bid for someone to fight with. The head boy to be exact.

Heheheh. That is, my ex-kind-of-beloved David :-)

I seemed to have got over him fairly well... He was there at the time. If he hadn't been I probably wouldn't have even bid, let alone win. But I DID and now we're going to fight. He came to CU today, so he happened to mention he was fighting 'Someone in the CU'. Mrs. C (the teacher who 'runs' it - she's not an oppressive presence!) asked who, and I told her to guess. She said I had the advantage, and I don't quite know what to make of that... Sarah said I had a 'lower centre of gravity' (which I took as a polite way of saying I had a big bum, but it's true so I didn't object). James suggested we should set a Christian example and not fight, in jest of course. But still, never mind, I'm going to beat him, or I'm going to..... lose! :-)

I feel kind-of guilty because all the other bidders were Yr 7-11 boys, although some of these did dwarf him somewhat. In fact, I didn't think I'd get it at all, I just felt my hand going up, heard Mr. H say "Four pounds" and realised that he wasn't going to say anymore.

I read through Nicky's diary at last. It was kind of odd, reading her reactions to my actions (although the dreaded night was Forbidden!!!!!!!!) and on that Wednesday where I gave her my letter, she actually sounded quite offended. It was because I barely made eye-contact, because I merely shoved it in her direction. The thing was, I was still feeling ashamed, confused, or something, and I couldn't bear to try and be friendly then be rejected. Yet my written words know none of these things. But, not much I can do about it now, except say, Sorry Nicola. I'm glad we sorted it out. And maybe I'll remember to be bolder in future.

Silence says nothing. You might as well read a blank page. People always think they can interpret silence, but in truth the person's thoughts could be far far removed from what you were considering. Like in 'Rebecca', where the heroine imagines what her husband is thinking after she broke one of Rebecca's wedding presents, and when she asks him he claims he was thinking about cricket. Which of course, was not what his beloved wife suspected.

Spent all day wondering. Am I useless? I can't seem to do anything properly. Oh well. At least there's Saturday to look forward too....

I got a big envelope from Eric, but I haven't opened it yet. I might as well leave everything until midnight, and open it all on the first few minutes of my birthday. I'm determined to enjoy this birthday, as sixteen was such a drag. Of course, applying characteristics to an age, bordered by birthdays, seems a little ridiculous, but after being so depressed last year (writing poems that had lines in like, "They call my life easy, why can't I die?") it seems only right. Still, I have my cautions about things seeming right, because about half an hour after doing them, they often don't. But I can cope with birthdays.

When I got home today, I helped myself to a bowl of fruit and fibre. Weird, huh? But it was gorgeous. I'm fed up with boring old routine. I'm not too fond of sandwiches for lunch, and I'd rather have a smaller tea, and have cold meat for breakfast. When I'm free, I'll do these things, or whatever I feel like.

I've just noticed, my hippy top is marked 'F'. Why is this? Am I a failure, a female, a F cup size, or merely sixth in sizing ranges. Well, at least two of those are true (I refuse to say which two :-) ).

In 'The Cast' on Thursday's Child, Nicola describes me as pretty. This is strange, as she's also said that my eyebrows look like dead caterpillars, and my nose is fat. :-)

OK, so maybe there is something butterfly larvae-ish about my eyebrows, and my nose is fairly chubby, but, well, never mind. Looks are funny things. And I think Nicola was joking when she said I had a fat nose. Besides, she has a pointy nose.

Speaking of which, three boys actually threw their arms around me today... Lee, Baris, John. Lee hugged me madly in Biology, around the waist, whilst kind of squatting on the floor. Don't ask me why, but I think he was planning it with John and Ashley beforehand. Baris grabbed hold of me whilst I attempted to rectify the scores of the game we were playing instead of writing essays in English Lit. For some reason, he felt the need to do this by sticking his arm onto my waist, turning it into some kind of wrestling match. He'd already done it to Rachel and Chris, so I saw the opportunity to leap past and make my move whilst he was occupied. John just hugged me for no reason going to Chemistry. What is it with these guys? I guess it's just because I'm not a boy-grabbing person, I think I must be unattractive, because I'm not flirtatious. Leastways, not away from the 'net (thinks of various people I have chatted up on the 'net). But I get whistles in the street, and relatives go on about how pretty I am. I just don't /feel/ pretty.

(Oh so pretty, oh so pretty and witty and bright!)

What a superficial message this has been. But beauty is merely fortunate, it's not very virtuous. So back to beauty from within, I suppose....

Mum has just started screaming that she hates 'that bloody paperclip'. I have no idea what she is going on about, so I'll lie low for a bit.

Long pause, whilst I go down to try and get us back online again.

Now I realise. It's that stupid animation on MS Word and Excel. And I hate it too. :-)

The follow-up: Fight! Fight! Fight!

More creepy men: Find them here

Random word for today:

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