Cardigan Bonanza.*

*At 6am, this was the funniest thing I'd ever heard.**

**And by 'heard', I mean 'thought'.***

***And by 'thought', I mean 'excess words farted out of my brain'

Welcome to December, belatedly. Life goes on. There have been Mostly Autumn gigs, snow TO THE MAX, bad days at work, better days, worse days, pay days, days off (naw, that's a lie), shocks to the system, bleached and dyed hair AND I joined the gym.

*car brake sound*

WHAT?!

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes. This blob of lard hauled her arse down to the gym after work and got a membership. Free for the rest of the month and then £40 each month afterwards. Incentive or what..?

I'm not going to go on and on about it like I did with my piercings (which recently caused my ear to explode a little.. ouch.. nevermind) but the gym membership is ace. There are loads of classes, free access to Waterworld (next door), a sauna, steam room, jacuzzi, loads of equipment, a really zen atmosphere, AND!! there's an offer on at the moment where you get the rest of the month's membership free if you sign up. So, Yorkie people, Nuffield Health on Monks Cross (Used to be Courtneys Gym, between the rugby stadium and Waterworld), go go go.

I'm determined to get into a shape that doesn't remind me of something from Monsters, Inc. ("...and work off that flab that's HANGING OVER THE BED!")

Also. I've done all the Christmas shopping. Just randomly. And wrapped it. And put up the tree, and decorated it and put all the presents under it and blahhhhh.

And finally, I hit new heights of awesome by announcing to the store manager and assistant manager at Work #1 that "I love you crazy bitches".

Now, I'm going to bed, because tomorrow I'm hitting the gym hard. Oof.

The 22-Hour Day by Nicole Smith.

Yesterday was tough tits.

It started like this. I woke up at 4am (ON A SATURDAY!! ON A SATURDAY!!!!) I was at Work #2 at 5.30am, doing deliveries in the freezing dark and setting up the store for the day with an army of other people I tiredly question the sanity of. Who has the energy to smile at that time of day?

I finished my shift at 11am and rushed to Work #1 to start work at 11.30am.. until 6pm.. At which time Matt drove us back to his house where we unpacked aaaaaalllll his DJ-ing gear and went to Denny's house and then to Lemon's house and then to Leeds, where we got lost looking for the German Christmas market, which turned out to be 'just behind us'.

The Christmas Market. It was more or less closed by the time we got there but I still got to eat a cockdog (see picture below) and a pretzel the size of my face before going home.

Midnight. But determined to enjoy not having to get up early the next day so I'm on the internet until 2am at which point I feel old and am sent off to bed.

Never has a reasonable 22 hours sounded so boring.

It's eating my face.

I'm going to tell you about me aged seventeen.

At seventeen, I:

- Have more piercings than ribs.
- Have epic red hair.
- Have two jobs, one as awesome as the other isn't. (But I didn't say that)
- Still have braces.
- Swear like a trucker.
- Have given up caring about my weight.
- Have totally eschewed following trends. I have flair, yo.
- Have an unnatural love for webcams.
- Still watch The Simpsons at least twice a day.
- Don't go to school.
- Still haven't seen Avatar.

And. Totally crappy at blogging.

But, I have a million photos on my phone that I took with the intention of showing you all. So.. I'll do that tomorrow when I'm nearer my phone.

Yeah. At seventeen years old I'm still a lazy shit once I get home from work.

Where have you beeeen?

Alas, I hath returneth.

I neglected to mention the epic November challenge I set myself.

Introducing.. Nicole's fantasticalmagicalbakingpalooza. It started with Baking For Dummies arriving in the post (I so recommend it..) and ended with my doing my first batch of cookies on the same day.

Fig. 1 - Stage: I will not be defeated.

Fig 2. - Stage: Holy crap I love that liquidiser.



Fig. 3 - Stage: I have a system worked out at this point.

Fig. 4 - Stage: Voila!

Epic delicious choc chunk cookies For Dummies.

My next creation? Nut-free carrot cake with vanilla/coffee icing (frosting). But more on that as and when it happens.

---

Also, excellent news!! I think I mentioned last week that I was applying for a second job and today? I gets it! I gets it!!

I dreamed a dream and it was dreadfully awesome.

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!

I thought I'd blogged, I honestly thought I had. I had one of those very convincing dreams in which I blogged and it was epic and you were there, and you were there, and you were there, too.

I've been a-working my feet off. On my one single, lonely day off, I went into work to buy stuff I didn't need (dish rack, though the washing up might never happen) and then spent the rest of the day with crappy Argos Radio songs in my head (#suckfest).

Also, I quite literally nearly worked my feet off because the motherplebbing cleaner who is actually scarily unstable threw my shoes away, put them in a delivery cage and then sent them trucking across the country. My only pair of shoes that don't have gaping holes in the bottom. I was so pissed off I was almost pissed on. But that's what I get for slipping into anger comas in urinals. *cough*

Today was my awesome manager's last day at work so it mostly contained choosing Halloween costumes (try imagining a bloke in a suit dressed as a full-blown pumpkin with an orange shower cap on trying to squeeze through the door at work.. Try it..) and dancing to Wham in the manager's office.

I work hard.

The Filling And The Carbon-dated Toothbrush*

*Which Stephen Fry has since informed me is made from coal and water and oxygen. Thou Shalt Not Question Stephen Fry.

Alors.. Today I had to go to... The Dentists.

I appreciate flowers, monetary donations and cards from well-wishers. Industrial-size bricks from those who wish me harm. Thank you.

I had to go get a filling because even at the strange age of seventeen I still need dentists to tell me that coke is baaad.. ('Tis bullshit, I'm convinced.)

I refused the injection because 'I don't like needles' - not entirely true. I just don't like needles THERE - and got an absolutely repulsed look from the assistant nurse when she saw my right ear**/*** and it all got worse from there.

So he started drilling and hacking away at my tooth without a care in the world whilst I - unnumbed and with very, very sensative teeth (OH MY GOD STOP BLAMING THE COKE) - shrieked and jumped and had to be held down by the assistant (who I suspect may have had army training in the last four years) until it was over. I swear she nearly broke my nose shoving the weird sunglasses they use on my face.

So. That put me off sugar for all of three hours. Now I want to be an erotic baker. More on that as it happens.

**My right ear.. just for you.

***And my left ear, just for the hell of it.

Hang on a second, I'm applying for a job.

Right. And now I'm just waiting for one of my managers on Facebook chat to give me a reference.

I are professional.

Furthermore, message to a manager on Facebook goes as follows:

---

Nicole Smith, where HAVE you been?!

No idea. Just not blogging.

This weekend I went to see Rach for her birthday and ate a massive meal followed by delicious cake followed by a chocolate fountain and... so... much... food... that I'm still dying a little. But I don't have any pictures because my camera is dead. RIP, buddy.

Not much has been happening around here. I've been expanding my musical horizons which is actually a code for Spending All My Money That I Haven't Got Yet Buying Opeth Albums And Such.

Rawr.

Anyhow. I still don't have much to write about, as you can see.

Someone thinks you've failed.

"This is the right decision."

"No one thinks you've failed."

"No one is judging you."

"No one thinks any less of you."

"No one thinks you're incapable of achieving these things."

"You're not dropping out, you're moving on."

I haven't been to school since January. At first it was just a sickness, then it was a weight, and then it was paralysis, and I'd fall and fall and just when I thought I'd hit the bottom, I slipped and I kept falling.

I went from Under The Weather to Under The World in a very short space of time.

I remember squeezing my eyes tight shut against the feeling in my head, in my hands, behind my ribs and under my hair. I remember waking up feeling voided. I remember my head being too swamped with this thing to feel anything. No grief, no happiness. I lost the ability to retain information. I couldn't percieve what people were saying. I couldn't remember the slightest things and some days I couldn't speak.

There is no feeling like depression. It's not grief, it's not pain. The way it creeps in, slows you down, smothers you and soaks "you" up. It's like walking through oil.

And recently with some medical help the consistancy is changing into something a little more manageable.

The pills help. The talking, not so much. Both are absolutely draining.

Today I went from being on sick leave to actually dropping out of sixth form.

"No one is judging you."

"No one thinks any less of you for this."

I've spent months killing myself thinking that I have to go back, that I'll get nowhere without passing those exams and that I have years of the same thing sprawled infront of me.

I don't.

I don't have to do what they say. I don't have to do everything their way.

I can do what I damn well please, and it has taken me ages to realise this.

So here's so me ending my time in school and moving onto something else.

I'm not fixed yet, that's not even on the horizon. But I'm on my way.

About Fucking Time.

Disaster.

Today I came home from a raaather interesting day in and around school (I have a DIRECTION now, y'all) to find my room in this state:

The shelf fell down and my books? EVERYWHERE. How many times did I croon "Oh My Gawwd..."? Sixty seven.

Luckily I had my trusty Denny with me, so we broke out the shot glass chess and drowned our sorrows (well, half of them. Half of the shots were water).

And that is the highly editted story of my day.

Quote Of The Day: "I'm wet and hungry and it's hot and long and I want to eat it and I don't like it!" - "Well, that's not something SHE would say."

And so it ends.

My thirty days are up, and the month has ended much as it began. With piercings, red hair and packages.

This morning the postman woke me up, but I was so comfortable that I left my inevitable packages to chance and refused to move, open my eyes or even acknowledge anything sensory until 2pm.

My neighbours, The Brick People took my package in for me like good elderly insane people. I went over to their door expecting one package reasonably sized package.

No.

Now, you know how I love me some package? How I go insane if they're BIG BOXES and if there's more than one?

Three big packages! HUZZAH!

Three drinking games, one of which is so complicated I'd need to be sober to play it, and very, very drunk to do any of the forfeits.

I got a good deal on hair dye.. and dyed my hair back to it's usual bright red. I'll post a picture tomorrow.

And finally I'm on the curb of being bollocked for having more than one pair of earrings at work. I'm sorry, boss, but I've got a really big thing about being restricted. It's a perfect equilibrium. My BRIGHT FUCKING HAIR covers eleven of my piercings*, my nose piercing gets me more compliments than glares, I do my job well and they don't exactly slow me down. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Gaahhhhh...

More on that when I get yelled at.

*Eleven ear piercings (Three cartilage, one conch, seven lobe), left nostril, upper navel, lower navel.

*Ping* AHH!

Alors... I got my new uniform today. It's DIRE.

Imagine the thinnest black material you can, then stretch it across my butt and hoik them up to Simon Cowell-esque heights and you have the trousers pictured clearly.

Imagine the reddest of red shirts making my hair look grey whilst barely restraining my poor, abused boobs. And the shirt doesn't really go past the waist.

It's tight in all the wrong places. The trousers balloon out in a vile way. The buttons on the shirt are ready to pop open (settle down, settle down) and take someone's eye out and then scar them for life.

The only redeeming factor is that I have my very own Argos fleece of my very own that is mine awl mine and is very, very snuggly.

And I won't lie. This top makes my boobs look voluptious and crapulous (real word, totally applies here) and big and stuff.

And I have the red hair to go with the company logo.

And I wear turquoise eyeshadow to go with the store colours.

All I need now is A, R, G, O and S earrings for my left ear and I'm done.

28th.

Pay day.

Two days left of NaBloPoMo.

The day of the month where I spent too much on too little.

One month until Cleo's birthday.

Shopping.

Piercings.

Ouchy-ness.

No sleep.

The 28th is pretty much the same every month.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..

Purely because I'm doing my Christmas shopping a few months early this year.

And so far I've bought stuff for me and stuff for Cleo and that's about it.

Sorry guys, there won't be a Christmas this year.

Believe it or not, that is all.

Just sleeping.

It's my first day off in five/six days so today I had one of my trademark duvet days which more or less involves me sleeping, eating, sleeping some more and then listening to music until dawn and being totally dead the next day.

It's never a good mirror day though. My hair's a mess, I have eyeliner I forgot to wash off clouding my eyes, my eyes are bleary from sleeping, I slur my words, I move slowly, I don't get dressed and I'm a total asshole to all who approach me.

They're good days.

It also helps with the overall mood of the day that I'm a few days south of pay day. It's the same every month, around the 25th I start getting restless and zoom around Amazon UK adding and subtracting from my wishlist, putting all sorts of things in my basket (TWSS) with pretty much no restraint.

I made a cool investment this month though.

.Shot glass chess set.

I'm fucking awesome at chess. And drinking. And spending.

This is obviously meant to be.

I can't think of a title because I'm listening to Queen again.

So you think you can love me and leave me to dii-iii-iie..?!

Today I worked my heel off.

Yeah. The sole of my right heel is gone now.

Le ouch.

(Seriously though. Send icecream and hugs)

Today I got to be a really annoying person because my boss sent me and a woman from work out into the wide world to jump in front of shoppers and push flyers at them.

Ultimately, we got rid of 200 in forty minutes in the freezing cold and wind and got driven off by the management at Asda (grr).

It was crippling. You put your heart on the line, offer them a leaflet and then when they brutally turn you down, you are convinced you are totally unloved and that you'll never put your heart on the line like that again in this lifetime.

There is nothing more pitiful than a girl in their work uniform wearing a fleece maybe three sizes too big for her, windswept, clutching a stack of flyers and limping (raw feet from 22 hours of working around the stockroom and assembling well over 2000 orders SINGLE-HANDED/FOOTEDLY over the course of four days).

Don't talk to me about work ethic.

I are clever.

I have been on my feet for 10 hours, but I will not rest!

Behold:

.Click.

Yes. That is Nicole's spanking new Videojug site for body piercing.

Let's see how this one turns out.

No rest for the wicked.

Christmas shopping:

Lunchbreak in the staffroom: Argos catalogue, paper, pen, tea and coffee.

In the news

By the way...

Sliced bread's got nothin' on this mofo.

My dad has just come home from scouting for a video location and with him came two amazing things...

I got one of them. And the magical thing is this:

Yes. That is a Smirnoff bottle cooler-jacket with built-in speakers.

Yes. They work like a dream.

Yes. They keep my vodka cool.

No. You don't put it in the fridge.

But yes. Smirnoff-vodka-cooler-jacket-speakers.

Smirnoff, I salute you.

We can dance, we can dance the night away.

Yesterday was a loooong day.

It all started on Friday night, which was awesome, awesome, and really really awesome, and I got no sleep, and then I went to work on Saturday feeling very happy and tired and hyper and stuffs. THEN I got home and sat down for maybe a minute before taking off to see Panic Room at The Duchess.

Le awesome. Free drinks (for me, mwahaha), awesome people, awesome band/support bands, all spells for a good night. My dad was given the top-secret-hush-hush promo copy of Mostly Autumn's new album and we went home to listen to it (which reminds me, I have something awesome to show you tomorrow) 'through vodka', which is what I'll show you tomorrow.. I suck at surprises.

Also, it's probably still Jassie's birthday! Puh-leeeeez head over and hump her leg and tell her she's the best asshole ever, because she totally is. =)

Overly complicated.

Working the lights.

To do.

Read Fragile Things

Redecorate bathroom
    - Find naked man shower curtain
    - Funky toilet seat

Finish Neverwhere DVD series

Successfully get at least one of my friends a job at work this Christmas.

Start driving lessons (Sooooon! ^^)

Stop my car from dying on its arse. Again.

Start epic piercing training.

Stop binge eating. Stat.

Don't lie. This is hysterical.

I am sorry for the people who got hurt. Karma may punch me in the face. It's still funny.

This is a public announcement

..About my mum's boobs.

My lovely lovely mother whoisreadingovermyshoulderrightnowsendhelp is very lovely.

I've been dying of a grizzly infection which has left me bed-ridden (or hobbling around at work, grimacing) and in constant discomfort so my lovely lovely mother made me a nice hot water bottle because my feet were cold, and when she was sealing it, she squeezed it, caused a geiser, and scalded her boobs.

Le ouch.

Scalded as in, red, sore, blisters and everything. The whole shebang of boob-burns.

All hail my mother, who not only braved evil mastitis when I was a baby, but has now had her boobs poached so I could have warm feet.

Remember that time when Homer took a baptism to the face for Bart? This is nothing like that.

Major (ish) controversy going on in the house tonight.

My niece Kel went away on holiday with her Nananana and now she's been converted to Catholic Christianity. And she's being told to do this communion thing and drink Jesus's blood and stuff.

WHY, GODS, WHY?

I wouldn't mind, I really wouldn't, but Kel is just a child. She's only just seven years old now, and.. ugh. People should be allowed to choose their own paths, and I know they've all been talking about it over her beautiful blondy head.

I have nothing on religion. I just worry that Kel'll get all influenced and opinionated like I've seen with sooo many other children. I've met friends of Cleo's who were raised to believe that 'Playing pretend is like lying', 'silence is golden' (fair play.. but not for a child!) and it's just sad.

I'm not blasting religion. Absolutely not. Everyone can do as they please and (hopefully) be happy that way. But imposing a massive religious... thing.. on a seven-year-old is a low blow.

On a lighter note.. I have a companion piece to go with this rant:

"You don't have to be a six-footer
You don't have to have a great brain
You don't have to have any clothes on
You're a Catholic the moment Dad caaaaame..!"

Monty Python - Every Sperm Is Sacred.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGMUCHLOVE.

So I had a really shitty day yesterday. And the day before. And today I kinda manned up and did well at work (shock horror) rather than getting dragged by my toes into the manager's office to be yelled at twice in one shift.. again.

So I feel a little better.

Healthy eating has gone out of the window, I'm binge-eating like a rat in a fairground (I love that film) and I've managed to stop biting my nails. HUZZAH!

My packages arrived and thankfully I wasn't at home to hump the postman's leg this time. Lucky for him, because there was a HUGE box involved.

And finally, I'm reading a book called Fuck It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way so I should have some pearls (haha) of wisdom soon.

And and and!! Do we think that my hair does a passable impression of being on fire?

Below the blue.

I've been having too many bad days.

Work is bad. Home is bad. Time goes slowly and I sleep and sleep.

What am I supposed to write about?

Well, this is awkward.

One-day hiatus from NaBloPoMo me thinks.

Nicole's Definitive List Of The Sneaky ("This Is How I Blog II")

Another thing that spawned from an early morning at work.

Nicole's Definitive List Of The Sneaky

A.k.a. Things you can buy from the shop that probably make you a criminal of some sort in Nicole's warped mind:

• Fire-proof boxes
• Cross-cut paper shredders
• Invisible ink pens
• Bubble wrap
• Oral B electric toothbrush
• Butane gas
• Pitchfork
• Swimming pool cover
• Rubber gloves
• Diving equipment
• Petrol-fuelled chainsaw

I have seven hours at work tomorrow morning. I'm going into the lion's den..

This is how I blog.

Today I was at work verrrry early (9am. How can I be trusted to operate heavy machinery at 9am?) and eventually I ended up seeing things in a skewed sort of way that I just had to write down, so, lo and behold, I have five crumbled pieces of paper infront of me that spent at least four hours in my bra today and are covered in scribbles.

First it started with The Cosiest/Fastest Bed In The World, which was essentially a shopping trolley filled with pillows and beanbags and other such awesome stuff you can find in the stockrooms of Argos. My bra proved to be much less safe than I thought because that piece of paper escaped so there is a (somewhat crumpled) top-notch drawing of The Cosiest/Fastest Bed In The World somewhere on the floor at work.

Then I started writing stupid lists. I'll spare you for today.

Then I got someone to apply for a store card and- Well. Do you know that episode of The Simpsons where Mandula goes to get a divorce from Apu and the divorce lawyer starts dancing on the table after he hears they have nine kids? Yes. Just like that.

And everything was dandy for a while, then my boss came along and said I was being slow and not doing things right and making me do stuff when I was already very very busy with something else so he could go read his newspaper and then this doodle came about:

And then my favourite manager came to join us all and I all but humped his leg.

Work is.. Interesting.

I am sailing, I am sailiiiing..

Please, please, I beg of you, please share with me in the hilarity of this video:



(Courtesy of LiveLeak via The Bloggess)

Oh My God I Hate That Song.

Here in L'Angleterre our children (I have four) are subjected to singing assemblies at school.

NB: This is where we are all forced to stand up, stare at terribly cheesy lyrics and sing along to terribly cheesy music whilst hating ourselves and watching our lives glide away as fast as they can.

Example:

Conkers, lots of lovely conkers
I'm trying hard to find the biggest and the best

A particularly quirky tune about conkers. I hate conkers now.

Then there was 'cum bi arrrrr' that eventually turned into '2 pi r' in year 10 maths because we all want to know the circumference of a circle. It's definitely preferable.

Then there was a particularly haunting song about school rules.. Which was hysterical just because it was terrifying.

Don't tell tales and don't tell lies
Don't be cheeky or unkind
...We're learning...We're learning...

Scary as hell, even without the tune.

I'm only saying this because my household is finally free of these horrors. Cleo, God rest her soul, has started my terrifying school that made me all depressed and shit and let me tell you, singing in assembly? Punishable by death.

Good luck Cleo. May the odds be ever in your favour.

Dead man walking.

I feel like I should explain why I - me, who doesn't actively go to school and works a couple of days a week - am sucking so badly at posting everyday, even though I'm online anyway.

I'm DYING.

Everytime I take my crazy pills (every morning) I have a few hours of normal just-woken-up tiredness before they make me all exhausted and I have to sleep and sleep and sleep to feel normal again which just makes my day run later and later until it's past midnight and uhh shit, I've missed the deadline again.

On Saturday I stayed in bed and started/finished Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. I've been waiting for that book for the best of a year so it was awesome before I even read it. I cried like a baby towards the end.

I flying-hugged a postman because he brought me five packages in three days.

I woke up with one of my (..eight..) earrings embedded in my ear. Lovely.

I'm totally addicted to Amazon.co.uk. I have the world's longest wishlist. I'm slowly buying my way through it.

And finally I'm about to indulge in Chinese-style sticky chicken. Wish me luck.

My little pony.

I'm really sorry I'm sucking so bad at NaBloPoMo. I promise I'll sit down tomorrow and tap out a decent post.

In the meantime.. Pony!

Pop art attack.

Alors.. I'm in a rush.

Pop-art Nicole. (Done on MS Paint - worship me, bitches)

That's better.

You're all insane.

Dear stupid, stupid people.

Why in Ghandhi's name did I see you hovering a million miles above York this morning?

Are you buttfucked? It was freezing cold on the ground and yet you go up in a hot-air balloon at SEVEN IN THE MORNING with a very sporradic heating system and a view of fog on an already bleak-looking York.

You fools!

Don't let me catch you at it again.

Regards,

Nicole K Smith CE.

Art Bart Cart Dart Eart Fart. *parrrrp*

I'm giving NaBloPoMo another stab (*stab* *stab* *stab* WAR CRY) this month and it'll be my fourth fifth (fucking hell) NaBloPoMo, so as my über-Führer boss-man would say, "Let's all get behind this please".

Kidding. You have my full permission to ignore my ramblings for the full month.

The theme be ART. I like ART. Particularly body art but I'm pretty sure you've heard all about that by now.

I've been getting many many packages lately. Yesterday I got two, today I got two. Tomorrow I'll probably get two more. Heil Amazon. (Note to self: Stop it with the Nazi references)

I'm probably world famous for my Amazon wishlist. I spent all month Windows (C) shopping (oh har har..) and as soon as I get paid, usually before lunchtime on the very same day, I spent at least £160 (about $200) on things I've hoarded on Amazon, and then get über restless whilst I wait for them to arrive. It was even worse this time because they very conveniently placed a bank holiday RIGHT where my delivery would've been. The slags.

So that's all from me for now. I'm feeling way too controversial today.

Church-burning thundercunts*

*This isn't an athiest rant, I apologise. Church-burning thundercunts just became my new favourite thing.

I've been feeling more hungover than Satan's ballsack because I had my happy pills upped and they've made me go all dopey. I can't concentrate, I can't work fast and I feel so tired it's just unreal.

I was lovingly reminded yesterday by Denny that I'd said I'd go with her to get her ears pierced for the first time and I'm SO glad we went. There is nothing funnier/scarier/more shitshouldIbravethelasermachine? than watching her go all woozy and bleed really dramatically (I'm talking dripping everywhere, running-down-her-neck dramatic) over a lobe piercing.

So so so proud of her though. I was freaking the hell out when I got mine done the first time.

I had a few minutes of absolute childlike euphoria when sat on the piercing bed as it moved around (it can do 360s) and we both walked out feeling spacey and full of metal studs. Denny from her lil' episode (sorry to be patronising my darkling) and me from the freezer fluid.

It was so cool being able to watch a piercing being done without having to be the subject. There's only so much you can pick up from peripheral vision. I ask my piercer (once again, he's mine, you can't have him) again about him teaching me to pierce, and I'm so much more optimistic now than I was before. Just things like being told that he *will* teach me about anatomy, rather than that he *would* teach me *if* he took me on, and when can I *start*?

START?!!! Oh Gawd. Heaven.

The only crap-mound in the meadow of life is that I have to stay at work to pay off the fees. Work don't like piercings, at the studio I'd need to stock up on them.

I don't understand the stigma against piercings. At work the quota is one set of earrings and one small nose stud maximum. No facial piercings, stretches have to be disguised, keep your hair colour normal. Just.. no individualism what so ever.

There's not much you can say through your work uniform. Nicole, Customer Advisor. Looks tired, messy, trousers are dusty, has cuts and bruises all over from working in the stockroom - clumsy.

As it stands, I have bright red messy hair, wear bright orange/purple make up, and don't particularly enjoy being challenged when in comes to being and expressing myself.

I feel awesome today.

Round-up.

So what's been happening around here?

I went to Slovenia for eight days.

I got my exam result (note the singular). I got a U, but it was a high U so it was more like a U* and overall it comes out as a C so I've passed, which really makes no difference to me.

I'm still working on my mum to give me £3000 for body-piercing-training reasons.

I'm back at work. Joy to the fucking world.

And yesterday I gave my nephew a makeover.

I keep having panic attacks, I need my meds taking up a notch.

And finally... The return of the penis pasta.

Dearest Blog-baby.

So I totally forgot my blog's birthday.

3 whole years and I totally forgot.

Happy late birthday, blog-baby!

You more or less count as a blog-toddler now.

Blogmamma xx

Miniature disasters and minor catastrophes.

I'll be honest, I suck at writing about the big stuff that happens, so there probably won't be a Sonisphere recap that is anything other than pictures of me in my festival hat (worship it..), awesome hair and my cool-person shades.

Fig. 1 - all of the above.

I might just leave it at that. Sonisphere was awesome. I met Lacuna Coil (!), I saw Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden and a million other fab bands in one weekend and got pissed off my tits every other night religiously.

Captain! Iceberg ahead!

Ahem.

SURPRISE BONG TENT!

Aaaanyway. This was meant to be a few tidbits of random shizzle that's been a-happenin', so yeah.

I got my seventh, eighth and ninth piercings yesterday. Two helix piercings (upper ear) and a lower naval piercing. I got chatting to my piercer (who is awesome and funny and I love him and OMG SO AWESOME) and he said he'd take me on as an apprentice for three thousand pounds.

That's reasonable I think. It's £1500 for an intensive 11-day course in Oxfordshire. £3000 for three years as an apprentice in my favourite shop in the world where I'll be learning something I love seems too awesome to be true.

And I'm going to Slovenia in four days for exactly one tweeble which looks to be awesome, too.

Alors.. I shall see you when I get back if not before I set off. Adios!

I must stay away. I have enemies. Dangerous, too-sane enemies.

Hola!!

I'm back from Sonisphere and chillin' at Rach's house.

Blogging shall resume when I can form coherent words, because it was THAT good. Delain, Turisas, Europe, Alice Cooper, Lacuna Coil, Papa Roach, Apocalyptica, Tim Minchin, Good Charlotte, Skunk Anansie, Placebo, Motley Crue, Rammstein, Renegades, Madina Lake, Skindred, Dir En Grey, Slayer, Bring Me The Horizon, Alice In Chains, The Cult, Pendulum, Iggy & The Stooges and Iron FUCKING Maiden.

I more or less died of happiness/drunkeness, and THAT is why I cannot blog.

Adios.

New hair.

What do we think?

I went to get it cut and it was a TOTAL disaster so I had a panic attack or two and then went to the supermarket and stocked up on hair dye.

Fuck yeah, red hair.

Sonisphere is in two days and I'm not exactly prepared. The tent is bought but hasn't been set up yet, I've got all the hygiene-stuffs I could ever need, I've stocked up on medicine. I haven't sorted out how I'm getting back yet and I still need to confirm how I'm getting there but once again, my dad is off-site.

GAAAAH.

See you when I get back, assuming I don't explode.

The walls fall down.

None of the remotely cheerful today. I'm not in the mood.

Hey, how are you?

I'm great, thanks, you?

I'm..

..So tired I made myself sleep until 6pm to pass the day. A day filled with nothing. A day that I wanted that way because I'm not just tired, I'm drained mentally, physically and emotionally because *it's* always there, not doing anything, just crushing and draining and demanding.

..So wrecked I burst into tears in the shower. I can only be so happy for everyone else.

..So immobile that I lied and said that I couldn't go to meet with my most favourite people ever because I was shifting furniture. I was sat in my room.

..An awful friend. But not enough to care. Which is where I know that I'm not 'Me' as I want to be anymore.

..Full of hate and anger and frustration and misery that just sits and seethes in all the awkward places. At the back of my neck, in my knees and elbows, under my fingernails, in every pore and joint.

..Sure that I've lost the best thing I had going for me.

..Aware that I've got so much worse that even a dose high enough to soothe pretty severe depression has become 'not nearly enough'. I have to see a psychologist, a doctor and a psychiatrist regularly, which sucks butt because they're looking for stuff that just isn't there.

..Not even bored.

I'm fine, thanks.

Three times a tweeble.

Stemming from here:

Nicole: Be right back.
Rach: Still alive?
Nicole: Just brb-ing for provisions.
            I'm going to write a blog post if it kills me.
Rach: lol about what.
Nicole:No idea. Need inspiration, so.. brb. =)
Rach: Chimps drinking tea?
Nicole: BE RIGHT BACK, RACH!
            But yeah. I like that.
            ...Brb..

So, way back then, I had a rough idea of how I'd stumble through another post. Now I'm sat brooding because everyone else makes it look so easy and now, at the tender age of seventeen, all I see and want and hear is FACEBOOK! No no you must blog, it's been- FACEBOOK! But your blog! Don't you love it anymo-FAAAAAACE-*gasp*-BOOOOOOOK!

...I never get any notifications on Facebook. But I live in hope.

Lots of nothing and some of anything has been happening around here. My mamma could be ready to move out (taking the dread-pirate Cleo with her) in as little as two weeks. Testing out her house the other night she brought a band and her original-punk friends back to her house where she ended up sleeping in a spooning conga line, had a million or so glasses broken and had "life is a sexually transmitted disease with 100% mortality" written on the kitchen wall along with "Gav is a knob!" which is fair enough because it also has "NICOLE IS AWESOME" sprawled across it in black ink, too. Fun times.

My Sonisphere tickets have arrived. I'm pretty sure I've written this maybe three times on here already but this time I have PICTURES! Yes, precious!

No that isn't a carbunkle on the side of my nose, it's a stud, TYVM.

Because I'm vain and stuff. But not at all, really. I threw on a t-shirt at least (B-Movie Vampires - also known as the-band-that-trashed-my-mamma's-house) which is very considerate of me considering that I don't believe in t-shirts or indeed pyjamas OR clothes because they mess with my overall karma which means it's too damn hot for clothes. There was a week where I totally abandoned the concept of trousers and just walked around the house in tights and erm, not much else but you don't need the details of that.

And because I'm awesome, or in case you missed me or the tickets in the first picture, or even because the heady combination of me plus Sonisphere tickets is particularly moving to you, here are some more pictures of me with the tickets:

Alas! 'Tis poetry kindred unto none other, Sire! 'Tis blossom that hath not blemish nor ill-repute!

Last night, or seeing as it's 2.22am, Sunday night, I went to an awesome poker night with people from school. Quids in, playing for keeps, etc etc. I neither won nor lost any money except for what I owe someone for the take-out, so all's fair. There's something awesome about six 17-year-olds getting together with money, Indian food, poker chips and cards that totally warrants the text I got the next day: "I hear you engaged in illicit behaviour with *bleep* yesterday?" Though the fact is that today I have a bruised bottom, backache and cannot walk straight. What the hell was I doing, pray tell? Riding from Fulford to Acomb (North to south, essentially) on a bike with skinny wheels and bugger-all suspension, that's what.

I also read through all the Neil Gaiman books I own verrry slooowly to pass the time. I totally recommend any of them, especially Neverwhere (Damn.. why has no one invented an internet book database yet? One that actually works? Someone get onto that) which is probably going to be my favourite book ever when I read my last book. I also read the latest Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood, duh) book too which was fab but didn't take up enough of my time (my fault entirely, I read so fast, never has 'devour a book' been so literal) and I was left thinking 'I should have savoured that..' afterwards because that was the book I'd been waiting for since last May, which I oh-so-conveniently remembered only after I finished it. Way to go, bumpkin.

I also managed to get myself down to the coast that awkward distance-across-time ago that isn't a couple of weeks ago or just one week ago, it's simply a 'time' that has no name except for now, as I'm calling it a 'tweeble'. So, I managed to get myself down to the coast a tweeble ago and got some gorgeous pictures out of it that made walking barefoot for two miles across tiny sharp pebbles and rocks totally worth it.

So for now I'm thinking I'm going to try to blog three times a tweeble.

The Plan: Summer 2010.

I've written up maybe four million and eighty two lists of things I've got to buy, books I've got to read, films I've got to see, people I need to get in touch with, places to go this summer.

All in all I've narrowed it down to about seven things:

1. Re-learn German. It's an awesome language. I had the best time speaking it when I went to Germany a few years ago (I vlogged the whole thing).

2. Have a kickass time at Sonisphere Festival with ma homies. My ticket arrived a few days ago.

3. Decorate my sister's new bedroom. I think I mentioned that my mum and sister are moving out. If not, my mum and sister are moving out.

4. Learn to drive, though finding the insurance info for my car has turned into a mini-expedition with no end in sight, the UK seems to need paperwork for everything a la the Vogans off of Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.

5. Get an exercise bike and get BUNS OF STEEL. Possibly considering getting a stripper pole in my bedroom if I can convince my dad that it's for exercise-y reasons and that I'm not a total whorebag.

6. Read a vaaaast array of For Dummies books on all different topics so I can be all smart'n'shit.

7. Go to Slovenia to see Great-Aunt Katra. She's just that great.

---

Thunderbirds are goooooo...

Family Bliss.

Oh.. Facebook.. I love your face and everything attached to it.

^^Click to enlarge^^

Paul - My brother

Sam - Our aunt

Nicole - super-hot blogger with no ideas

Notes from The Book Of Nicole.

Random quote from a book (Smoke And Mirrors - Neil Gaiman) that I liked:

"She stares at me, amused." ~ There was nothing special about this, except that it stood out on the page to me.

Random 3am observation:

"Though it comes close, I don't think I'm entirely alone in thinking that fo every time I read a book, my mind's internal commentary morphs and shifts slightly, receptive and accommodating new thoughts and opinions that would've had no place before. I know I'm not part of a majority here. If this were a commonplace observation then there would be trophies for those who read the most books, Borders York wouldn't've closed down and the world would be quieter in terms of blinkered idiots with penchants for airing their own hollow, self-important manifestos." ~ At 3am I'm everything from political anarchist to zoologist.

On piercings:

Done:

Ears - done
2nd ears - done
Nose - done
Naval - done

To do:

Tragus x2
Cartilage x2
Lip lower centre x1
Eyebrow microdermal x2
Tongue x1
Microdermal vertical sternum x2

*Now* I'm done.

On possible jobs:

- Get into piercing - No guarantee of job and will have to stop biting nails. Nooooo...
- Teaching qualification - Have already passed the limit on facial piercings. Bugger.
- Music store - Don't know enough music.. (?!?!?!?!?!?!)
- Bookstore - Too easily distracted by books.
- Professional reader - Too easily done.
- Writer - Can't fucking write without fucking swearing.
- Drug lord.
- Bartender - Already drink too much.
- Join the circus - Not hairy enough.
- Get pregnant - Don't earn enough to feed myself anyway.

---

I've spent the last few days reading and reading and reading and Windows shopping (my oh-so-clever phrase coined from where I spend hours adding things to my wish list on Amazon).

Mostly it's full of bright red and bright yellow fedoras and books about interesting and diverse subjects that'll get my head back into gear seeing as I haven't actually done any schoolwork in over five months now.

I can always think of awesome things to write, but it's always at the wrong time like when I'm scaling shelves at work or sat trying to hold my breakfast down on a bus (the car's been off the road for a month and all of a sudden I'm travel sick) and I just realised that's not even accurate because I usually sleep through breakfast.

The rest is pretty much solid though. I'm an awesome writer, in some alternate reality where I have a dictaphone, a pen and paper and a manservant called Juan with a typewriter at my disposal.

Crappy excuse for not writing more though. I know it. I'll get back to you when I find a better excuse.

"I'm thinking about England, in the rain..."

Neil Gaiman

Bite me, bitch.

(Did you catch ma tweetin' last night? I ordered a taxi and ended up on THE party bus.)

Today at work:

*Woman slams kettle down on counter*

Psychobitch Ahoy: I want a replacement on this kettle.

Nicole: *bewildered* Have you got a receipt?

PA: No! I don't need one. Don't try to trick me, I've studied trading standards. I'm not stupid.

Nicole: Err. Right. Without proof of purchase I can't authorise it. It's company policy.

PA: I'm suing the company. This is the second kettle I've bought here that has set fire to my kitchen.

Nicole: Oh yes? It would be Breville that was sued. We're just the middle-man.

PA: No. It be YOU.

Nicole: (Me?) Okay. Fine.

PA: I'm suing.

Nicole: You do that.

PA: I'm not stupid, and I've got your name, Nicole.

Nicole: ..Nor am I.

I get my manager, who relays EXACTLY THE SAME THING as I said. I go to check the displays and the woman follows me around.

PA: I'm suing the company. You'll hear all about it.

Nicole: You do that. Seeing as we're being frank I'll tell you. I'm not sorry because I've seen this before and I'm bored. Go away.

---

Gah. Stupid peoples. The great thing was that trading standards would have agreed. She didn't have a leg to stand on and she knew it, apparently. Bleeeh.

Da-da-da-duuum. Da-da-da-doooom.

I'm not so bothered about getting a second/third job anymore. I enjoyed being at work today, weirdly. Maybe it was because it was only for three hours, or because a particularly awesome cast of people were there tonight, or because The New Person In The Suit happens to be really lovely, but I actually enjoyed my job again for all of three hours.

I also bought some really funky earrings, which is nice though my newer piercings have swollen and gone purple and I had to get Cleo to help me clean them because rarrrrgh, it hurt like hello.

She got her ears pierced today. It looks the shit.

Tomorrow I'm at work for 6-and-a-bit hours which is plenty of time to make a mistake or two which is not good because GUESS WHAT!

The boss-of-all-bosses-ish is coming into the store for the entire duration of my shift tomorrow and I'm all worried because my manager will be there and he hates me and they'll all be mean and start grumbling because ZOMG, FACIAL PIERCING.

And I'll be all, Oh shut up, ladies. It's my nose.

Well. In my head anyway. I've got used to hating people in my head these days. Everyone can be a total asshat and Oh Don't I Know It.

Basically, I hope I'm not epically in trouble for bitching about my manager who, to be fair, is rather nasty to me.

And, for his information, I KNOW that I probably won't get either of the jobs I applied for, but 'because you're you, Nicole' is not the right reason to think it, and saying it was just plain mean.

The internet is weird.

Look what I found.

^ Click to enlarge ^

I'm scared for humanity.

And the wolves.

Tales from.. erm.. whatever day it is. *Edited*

Today is Tuesday a.k.a. Shrink Day so I went trundling down to see my person and talked for an hour about life, the universe and everything and ended up drawing how I felt today and it was pretty strange, I think:

The idea was meant to be that I felt like stuff wasn't so important. York could get bombed and people would still be eating pizza in Venice or hunting Justin Beiber for sport in Texas.

You heard it here first.

Anyway. I left the Shrinkses in a pretty good mood, for once. It was raining in an awesome kind of way, with huge raindrops that didn't fall too often but when they did it was like.. SPLAT, soaked, fuck you. It was AWESOME.

I went around pricing up piercings for a while before realising that there was only really one place I wanted to go to, so I ended up at my favouritest piercing studio EVARR for the second time in two days and got the lovely greeting of "'Ello you! You're here a lot aren't you?"

Awesome. I'm loved.

As I sat waiting for him to prep, I was reeling at the fact that my piercer (He's mine now. You can't have him) has approx. twelve piercings in one ear. TWELVE.

That's ten more than me! Shit!

So, today, on a whim, I got my fifth and sixth piercings.

I'm a bit iffy about needle piercings (you have needles and you have guns. Guns are baaaaad, but they hurt less) because my ears were gunned, my naval was done by needle and so was my nose and fuck if that didn't hurt like a blowfish TO THE FACE, so he told me he'd freeze over my ears (I just noticed that 'ears' is an anagram of 'arse' - vital information) beforehand.

Mayhem ensued.

*spraying starts*

"I suppose you'll charge me more if I get high of the fumes."

"Probably."

"Pleh.. Woah, it's in my mouth."

"You want your tongue pierced?"

"Not today tha- SHIT! I didn't take my other earrings out. Shit shit shit! They're FREEZING."

"I can't help you."

"Ffffffferk! Get'emoutget'emout!"

"If I touch them, I'll get stuck to them."

"Ah. Right."

"It'll wear off."

"Cool."

*Pause*

"..Ice cool."

*Huff*

And I've totes promised myself that if I save my money I can have four more at the end of the month.

I rock my own socks.

And for five glorious minutes, my bank balance was more than £1.

Today I bought my ticket for Sonisphere Festival.

Incase you haven't had the utter joy of hearing me rambling on about what is probably THE MOST INTENSE LINE-UP EVERRR, do feel free to take a peak here.

So, on top of Iggy Pop, Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden, Lacuna Coil, Placebo, Pendulum and forty or so other bands, Tim Min-fucking-chin (it had to go somewhere..) will also be there to make me giggle at inflatable dolls and distant wars and such.

Also I just noticed that Europe are playing and I'm 60% sure that they wrote The Final Countdown.

Crap. I've got that in my head now.

Also, you lost the game. Mwahaha.

I'm still considering tearing up the floorboards.

I woke up dead today. My throat was swollen, my nose was runny, I was dizzy because my body, brain and blood is screaming PILLS... PILLS... and making me go all black-out-ish.

I had plans today. I had to get hold of the place that called me (didn't work), I had to go food shopping (nearly didn't work) and I had to get a shower (definitely didn't work).

I had an absolute nightmare because when I was getting dry, the towel snagged my nose stud and pulled it out, it fell on the floor, bounced off my foot and disappeared into infinity. I searched, butt-naked, for the damn thing for half an hour before finding it under the floorboards when lying face down on the floor with a torch.

Called Mum:

"Mum? I need to pull up the floorboards and I'd appreciate it if you weren't totally unreasonable about it."

"No."

"You don't even know why yet."

"I don't care. Fuck no."

Humph.

Random-but-relevant piece of info: Nose piercings hurt like hell and without a stud to keep them open they heal really quickly.

I ran down the street to a Goth shop that I always used to shop in and yelled 'CURVED NOSE RING!' at the empty store. Someone came flying out of the back and helped me find a nice pale blue one.

It's too thin and curved wrong so it knocks the inside of my nose making me sneeze like a.. baby panda.. but it's nice so I'm eternally grateful.

So that's the epic tale of my nose.

I'm so pissed that my beloved, fitting, shiny nose stud is still under the floorboards in the bathroom.

I also bought some delicious pork pies, an apple pie, discovered TO MY HORROR that some scary people say 'erbs instead of herbs and nearly passed out in a restaurant.

Life, 'tis dull..

Woes.

I forgot to take my sanity pills yesterday and today and today I felt it, as in, crying in the storeroom, hating everything, wanting to be nowhere, cursing my manager to the fiery pits of Hades, etc.

It all started out good when I was really chatty to customers and I thought that, hey, this not-taking-my-pills lark was working because I feel floaty and talky. Then one woman started yelling at me because we didn't deliver to her house - a flat in the arse-end of nowhere - and started raving and ranting and stormed off to kill some puppies so, rather than being meek and whatever, I suggested to her husband that he should kindly remind his wife that I personally am not in control of the fleet that is home delivery, that it was an entirely different branch to me and COME ON, I'm lower than breakfast on the pecking order at work. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Then I escaped and went on my break to discover that a random York number had called me, I Googled it and OH FUCK, it was the job I'd applied for. I tried to ring them back a million times and had some serious network difficulties and then I went to my (evil, evil) store manager to ask if I could stop working weekends and then he turned it all around and said that I was jumping the gun and I am 'most likely going to be turned away' anyway.

Fuck him.

I ended up working alone in the upper stockroom where I cried, crooning about hating myself, and when the suicidalness swept in I realised that, oh fuck, I needed to take my pills PRONTO. A day and a half without them and I was a quivering wreck. And there I was, saying just last week that they didn't work as well as they used to. I was wrong, clearly. Apparently, things have just managed to get so much worse.

Now I'm calm again. I'm sat at my brother's kitchen table with a realllly sweet cup of tea (I can hear my mum spitting 'Blergh! Poison!') listening out for Chunk who fell of a swing today, cut the back of his head and ended up in Casualty, fixing Kel and Bunny's Hannah Montana flasks (Hannah Montana - a true sign on crapola) and making plans again.

Tomorrow I'm going to wake up, pick up the phone and hope to God, Loki, Allah, Anansi, Krishna, ALL OF THEM, that I've got another job.

Pleb pleb pleb pleb, a-pleb pleb pleb pleb.

My brain is mush, ladies and gentlemen. I don't know what's caused it, it's a toss up between watching the X-Men quadrilogy all in one go or going around the house singing stoopid, wordless songs about plebs. Either way, I have mush for brains and want to be a mutant.

Not much happens around here. Mum got her tattoo. Cleo has decided she's fat and both her and mum have enlisted me as a personal trainer because.. oh I don't know. I'm not exactly at the peak of physical fitness but I'm a total pro at WiiFit.

We're all broke so my auntie is paying for our next meal, little does she know that it is going to be THE MOTHER OF ALL KEBABS.

As you were, everyone. As you were.

The artist formally known as Nicole.

Yesterday I went round to my neighbours house and awwww'd over the tiny baby hamsters, the gorgeous rats (just.. trust me, here) the biiiiiiig snakes, the horribleblehblehbleh spider, the rottweiler, the bird and the tiny puppy whilst my mum got a tattoo from our neighbour.

The end result?

Not baaaad.

It designed it by accident - doodling whilst watching TV. It looks rough because that was literally a minute after we got home and the ink was all smudged on the surface because her skin had puckered up.

Still. I think it's super awesome.

Meet the Nicole-ites.

I fried my internet connection last night because my laptop breathes fire because I'm an adaptor with the wrong specs because the first one broke because I said so.

So, I'm here on borrowed time, posting nice photos because I'm in a desperate race against my laptop, who is winning.

Here are the cast of my life, in no real order:

Your beloved leader a.k.a. Me.

Anner, Mo-Balls and Lemon.

BFF Main Gay.5 and me.

Rach. We loves.

Kel, my oldest niece. Always loud, always pushing the limits. Doesn't understand the word 'calm' and is totally amazing.

Me, Chunk and Bunny. Chunk's the youngest and absolutely adorable. Bunny's the most lovable, cute, clever, funny little girl in the world.

Cleo. Rerrr... My sister and polar opposite. Found here once in a blue moon.

My brother, Golden Balls. Spawn of awesome.

My mamma. Formally known as 'Mum'.

And finally, my awesome dad, simply known as 'Dad'.