Whilst I'm waiting for the heating to come on...

I'm still feeling a bit faint from this morning where I was sensationally rickrolled.

Cold. So cold.

I'm 70% sure that my feet are still there, but I'm not moving to check.

I took my Book Of Blog into school today, I had a good idea avec beaucoup de blog fodder, but I've forgotten the details of it.

Kind of defeats the object but I still have stuff to write about.

You know when your mind plays tricks on you?

Mine plays very special, cunning kinds of tricks. The one that goes 'haha, I'm going to give you some good ideas just before you go to bed so you have to stay awake and write it all down'. It's clever because it means that when I wake up too early the next morning more shit-faced than the guy who got his head stuck up a horses arse in Police Academy, my mind doesn't work, nor does it try to.

Cunning, see?

So yes. When I got to school this morning I could only remember that I had to ask people what they wanted to do in life once we escaped this hello-hole we find ourselves in.

At this point I need to remind you that the Urban Family are quite insane.

[Sadly I could only get hold of Emma, Anna and Tilda to help me do this]

I asked Anna first. Straight up she said 'I intend to have a family with lots of very attractive sons with fabulous names such as Felix, Virgil and Ichabod'. We later disproved this when we realised that with the apocalypse nigh and everything (*uck global warming, it's really doomsday approaching... No. I don't mean Valentine's Day), her sons would be little more than Sea Monkeys before she melted in hell/Globally Warmed Earth.

Emma? She wants to play Quidditch. I said here about Fulford's magical conversion to Hogwarts, and Emma took the next natural step. Now, Emma's a very interesting person. She wants to go to college (she went to her drama audition there yesterday, woop!), go to theatre school, and then be an actress on stage and be awesomer than she already is because Robert Pattinson is her hot, hot sex and she wants to play with his hair and more besides. ...Wait, who said that?!

The longest reply by far was Tilda's. I ran out of room on the page I was writing on trying to get it all down.

And so here we have it.

What Tilda wants from life

- Wooden, old, bay PVC windows
- A nice garden
- A strange quirky partner
- Lots of children (I've already offered her some of mine if she can't be arsed with the whole preggo thing)
- No gym membership
- A bike that she will use
- Keep dancing (dancing through liiife...)
- Lots of mirrors in her house to make it look bigger
- Mafia-style bookshelves that open into a secret study
- To perform on stage some more
- To work with people (not robots)
- For her parents to have a boat
- To keep living in England
- To be happy (nawww...)
- To be poor (wuh?)
- And much, much more, except I was so overwhelmed with happiness at the prospect of Tilda's future that I had to stop writing.

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Me? Teaching, Seattle, my own vampire (or whatever).

C'est la vie...