'Sup?

Work work work work money money money money spend spend spend spend angry mother angry mother angry mother angry mother.

It's half an hour until midnight and I am *this* close to dying on my arse.

Well, my dears, I tried working two jobs. The term is "Fuck that shit".
This last month has been nice and (barely) rewarding, I'm going to London next week to spend my hard-earned cash and such'n'such. I love my first job more than ever these days, but Job #2? Not so much. It's stuck up, it's bitchy and the customers are all vulgar.

For the record I'm not overly bothered about been Dooced.

Last week I was told I was wrong for calling out a customer for hitting her four-year-old. I'd say people talk about me behind me back but usually I'm next to them, in front of them, or being the one they're talking to. About me. And my orange hair (long story). And about how apparently I cannot do anything right. And any damn thing they can pick on to distract from their own sad, sordid little lives.

GAHHHH.

On a lighter note, I bought a curling iron (a good one) for £9.99 in the sales. I KNOW RIGHT! That's an abstract way of saying I. Cannot. Stop. Spending. You'd think I'd spend enough time in shops at work but noooo.. It's an affliction.

I said I joined the gym.. I've been once since. £40 a month is enough incentive to start going there so I need a better New Year's Resolution. Perhaps "Stop eating fuckloads of crap". Apt enough because I'm currently torn between making a pasta salad and running to the takeaway whilst the streets are dead (T minus ten minutes until midnight).

So, I guess I should some goodbyes to 2010:

*ahem*

2010,

Interesting year you threw at me, what with the crippling depression, the dropping-out-of-school-ness, the crappy job, the stupid parents, the most recent Charlaine Harris book (that's a good thing by the way), the change of staff at Work #1 that makes me giggle, the many gallons of coke I have consumed, GREGGS FESTIVE PASTIES! (=D), my awesome not-boyfriend. I want to say that you fucking sucked. That you made swine flu look good, AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING, swine flu. What the hell? Buuuut, it wasn't so bad. It was.. interesting.

Thanks for an interesting year, dummy.

Midnight!

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.

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.

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

Not my day. Because 'My Day' sounds like it went as I wanted it to.

I woke up at two in the afternoon, feeling less like rough and more like ill-fated hedgehog rolled into the road.

Why? You may ask. Why are you so damn lazy?

I'm not lazy, I'm tired. I sleep when I don't want to be awake and when I'm tired. I don't sleep just because I can. I'm tired all the time these days. That's how I'd describe a bad case of clinical depression. It feels like being thoroughly tired, like.. all over. Everything you feel is exhausted and everything you do is exhausting. Commiting yourself to doing anything when you don't feel like it feels like an emotional hazard. There aren't any strong emotions, not really. More like tiny breezes or sparks next to a tidal wave - hardly the most noticeable thing.

Those are the bad days, anyway.

Today wasn't a bad day, I suppose. It was a day that I'll forget about by the end of tomorrow because it'll blend in with a whole army of other days that amount to nothing glorious.

I spent last night nursing a God-awful headache whilst doing the whole 'Jaded' thing. I watched TV without taking any of it in, listened to sad music, looked at photos of times when I actually saw my friends - or anyone - more than once every three weeks, re-read old conversations that made me smile and let out a big. sigh.

This morning? I woke up and baked a cake without any of the pleasure I usually get out of cooking. I watched the end of Marley & Me with Cleo and had a little cry because it reminds me of Zebbie, who I miss more than anything. I cancelled an appointment with my psychologist (yeah..) because talking doesn't help in the slightest, I sat in my room and stared at the ceiling, made plans that made no sense. Nothing much of anything.

The plans were my favourite part of the day.

I am a learner, learning. And other stuff.

8 days later and uhh... nothing more interesting than my underwear has happened.

Except that my driving licence arrived, I nearly ran over a lawn mower because my dad left my car in gear (even I know not to do that = years of complaints from my mum), I have an effing CAR, I've been on a fitness bender and am finally seeing some awesome results and I'm trying to give up coke by watching my sister drink it and have toothache. Win.

I spent today on my current best friend (TWSS), the Wii. I love Wii Fit Plus, I even though it costs a bomb in batteries. I had a moment of weakness at work and ended up buying tons of stuff like yoga mats and pedometers and stuff but I'm fairly sure it was worth it.

I went to see a psychologist where we talked about loads of rather dull stuff mostly involving me and my feelings and how do you feel about that and by the end of it I was in such a state of 'meh' that me and my mum went to the pub and took up Tuesday afternoon drinking. True story.

So that's all that I've got, except that the True Blood season finale aired here yesterday. That was more or less the highlight of my entire life.

Merry she goes. Or something.

I wish something would happen around here.

Sure, stuff has been happening, but stuff hasn't been happening, which is quite a distinction, let me tell you.

Stuff that's happened. Iceland blew up and emptied most of Europe's airspace, everything's kinda dusty and I cannot. fucking. breathe. because there's ash in the air and I'm all asthmatic and shit. I got a permanent job AT LAST and I'm as glad as two small shiny happy things. It's barely warm enough for barbeques but we've had two already. Baby Chunk can say my name and totalled my mum's house and then fixed it again.

I got a new phone after seven years, but I'm pretty sure I've told everyone and their mum all that.

My birthday is in twelve days. I don't know what's happening but my mum seems to have a good idea about it. Once again, I think everyone and their mum is coming. Because I'm just such a social butterfly...

I'm gonna dye my hair back to its usual colour because at the end of sixteen, I've gone grey. I'm not kidding. And it's not just my hair either. I woke up this morning and my skin was grey and purple. I don't know whether that was because I couldn't breathe or because I'm usually at work when the sun makes an appearance.

So that's pretty much all that's happened. I wish I had as much to say as my dad, for example, who has been texting me at 1.30am every night telling my about his day (he's on tour at the moment) and other than it being absolutely awesome, it makes me look boring. Though he assures me that tripping over in B&Q and falling face-first into a tent isn't something everybody does.

A summary whilst I wait for something better to write.

I have four drafts of different posts saved, but they all need work and I'm not in the mood, like at all.

Between working, sleeping and watching my social life skip off into the dusk I've come to love the following things.

1. Walking the dogs.

Trundling through Walmgate Stray with two very active and competitive dogs whilst trying not to step in any of the hidden boggy bits (about 90% of it) is oddly lovely.

2. Destroying my mum's house.

I've had the opportunity to vent and be destructive. I took out a kitchen, jumped through the back of a wardrobe before it collapsed (my sister crapped herself) and then put tons of holes in the walls.

3. Redecorating/rebuilding my mum's house.

I've painted most of the rooms now, I plastered all the walls after I left them full of holes and I've shifted all the furniture. I also discovered a lovely message for me on the wall.


4. Staying awake until dawn.

Even though I'm at work most of the time, I can't help staying awake until the birds start singing. And then not being able to sleep because OhMyGodDon'tThoseBirdsEverShutUp??

So that's what I've been doing when I haven't been working my little fingers to the bone (I coloured in a map of the stockrooms yesterday... I'm special), fighting killer washing machines (that's another story) and making epic fail cake (better left untold).

One day I'll slow down.

I have been SO busy for the last four days. Not only have I been working over 4 times more hours than I'm contracted to do (few complaints there - four times the pay on double pay for the holidays: kerching!), I've painted my mum's living room, killed a kitchen, been ravaged by insane dogs, not got to sleep before 4am in three weeks AND been made to talk to a psychologist.

My God is it hard to find time for stuffs.

Painting my mum's house has been fun... Someone painted 'NICOLE IS A LOVE MACHINE' across the walls by the window, I've got a second skin of paint, I've aged forty years and my painting trousers are way too big for me now, and that's always nice.

I also bought my brother an arse-face towel for his birthday, which he probably needs because his bathroom flooded on his birthday and there was water running down the walls which was EPIC.

And today I was woken up by someone throwing an easter egg at my head.

Le ouch.

Even the bad things come to an end.

I actually forgot today was the 31st of the month because the date was the last thing on my mind when my mum dragged me out of bed at 7.30am and told me I was getting a haircut 30 minutes later.

£39 later I was destroying my grandma's kitchen, and then I got to trash the living room whilst my mum went to Homebase to get some filler 'for that massive hole you left in the wall'. Oh well, I thought it had been impressive. (So not my fault. My mum said she was going to knock through that wall anyway so I was just using initiative.)

Then I went shopping and ended up being ravaged by the boob lady who flying-tackled me as soon as my mum said the word 'measured' in the M&S clothes department. I'm still living down what happened last time.

This has been a verrrrry long month. But now I'm a three-times NaBloPoMo survivor so it's so worth it.

Tomorrow I have to talk to crazy ladies (oh okay, so I'm the crazy person) and get up at very stupid times to see my doctor who has never even heard of 'afternoons'.

Then I get to go to work and make Argos giftcard towers/fortifications whilst being cashier number three, as always.

Love from,

Not even my teefs know where they stand on this one. Poor teefs.

Are you all aware of just how God-awful having braces is?

Let me tell you.

They glue shit onto your teeth which rubs against the inside of your mouth so it's as sore as anything. Then your teeth start to ache so bad you're eating baby food for a week (Mmmm... mash potato...). THEN you get stuff stuck in them so you have to excuse yourself to dig it out. Then your tongue catches on it and that makes you cry a lot (which sounds like bleh-blub, bleh-blub because your tongue has been disected). Then you get your lip caught in them randomly and that hurts like hell. Then everyone wants to see them. Then just when you get used to them the dentist calls you in and Bingo! You have then tightened so it happens allllll over again. Every six weeks. Indefinitely.

I'm not gonna complain too much because my mouth is hurting and mostly I just want to sleep so it goes away, but there is a particularly godly chicken fajita sat in the fridge that I haven't been able to eat yet and I don't want to liquidise it.

What are you smiling at?

Send help. I'm in pain. I want a bacon sandwich and I have to go on a jewelry training course with work tomorrow. There is nothing remotely good about this situation.

The calm before the storm.

So, it's 1am.

Today lots of things are going to happen.

1. I'm going to finish that Failure Trifle I made yesterday. It fails so good.

2. An unknown amount of people are going to come around to my house because they love me. Mo-Balls announced on Monday that she was coming round to my house today and I heard that she'd got all sorts of people to come with her. BFF Main Gay.5 won't tell me who's coming, BFF Main Gay.5's girlfriend, Twidget, won't tell me who's coming, and now I think my sister will be off school with a chest infection too. Gosh darn it.

3. I'm going to see Extreme Metaaaaal Band with my dad. I can't remember the name of the band but we'll both get in for free so it's cool. My dad working on the lighting desk (read: I'll end up doing some of it) for this venue and a few others, so it means he gets free +1 tickets all the time. We saw Electric Six a few months back, I worked on the lights. If he's the one performing on stage he makes it sound good and I make it look good. It's a nice compromise.

4. I may recieve a delivery containing two books I forgot to buy. I may also recieve a delivery of seven books I probably shouldn't have bought but did anyway. I bought a few books the other day and forgot the third and sixth books from one series, so I had to order them in. Then I bought loads of other books because I like ordering stuff from the internet because I'm a practising hermit.

I'm going to sleep now. I wonder how much of my day will actually go according to plan.

Happy Chinese New Year!

May all your Chinese dreams come true. (Or hit translate on that - everyone's a winner!)

I could be a heist-ish person. I can be sneaky. Look: Shhh...

I hate shopping at any time around Valentine's Day. But it's a necessary evil, I live (conveniently) in the middle of town (the general term for where the shops are in York) and I happen to be a strong believer in retail shopping.

Yesterday I'd sank into one of my black moods and I left school at lunchtime, I'd pulled that string thing in one leg (hamstring? Hammerstring? Something like that) and I couldn't walk all the way home easily, so I took the bus into town with the sole intention of going home and lying in bed for the rest of the night.

Then just randomly I thought I needed to buy another DVD for film studies.

And maybe a couple of other DVDs...

And a Indiana Jones box set (so sue me).

And then I went to Lush. Lush is amazing. Lush is the shop that you can smell from the other end of the street. It's a shop full of bath bombs and soaps and face masks and yum. I stopped at a counter. Something smelled INCREDIBLY of chocolate. On a whim I bought shower jelly, which I love because you can hurl it at the bathroom mirror and it explodes everywhere (Don't tell my mum that... Jesus...) and it's a nice change to a normal shower when you rub jelly into your hair and you smell kind of like what I imagine Jesus would smell like if he took a shower.

And then I went to Starbucks. Every time I go into Starbucks I always try to convince myself that I'm not being stripped of my hard-earned quids every time I take a sip, but when a cheesecake and a coffee to go add up to £4.80 (Approx. $8.50), I feel kinda like I out to have someone feeding me my amazing blueberry swirl cheesecake.

By this point I was feeling a little less like I wanted to die, and despite the fact that EVERYWHERE I was seeing smug couples holding Anne Summers bags (lingerie galore), I felt kinda great because I was walking through town with a HMV bag and a Lush bag, and I basically looked like any stereotypical, perpetually single person does at this time of year: Rough around the edges, with a bath bomb in one bag and a romantic film in the other.

Well they were WRONG because I actually had shower jelly and The Italian Job.

I really want a Mini Cooper.

Anyway, I am being utterly oblivious to Valentine's Day this year as I am every year and because my B-E-A-Utiful True Blood calendar also tells me that it is Chinese New Year on the 14th so I'm celebrating that instead.

SUCK ON THAT, HALLMARK!

Higher than hope.

I was kinda hoping that I'd get some time to write about what was happening before it actually happened.

This has been going on for maybe three weeks, but it all ended yesterday.

On Sunday night we all stopped over for food at my auntie's house, where my other auntie from Norfolk (The bit of Southern England that sticks out like a big round boob) was staying for a couple of days. My Norfolk auntie is mad. Totally manic. I love her insanely, she's got such infectious enthusiasm. My grandma told me a few weeks ago (when I was marvelling over the fact she'd drank a bottle of whisky in two hours and was totally normal) that her and my Norfolk auntie spent some awesome times with my uncle Ozzy (surname: Osbourne. I shit you not) scoring acid in the woods.

Anyway, on Sunday night my Norfolk auntie said at the end of a fabulous meal (my mum and both of my aunties have all been chefs at some point: win) "Let's just hope she goes without pain and that she isn't suffering anymore, because we all have to go sometime, sweethearts".

My grandma, my badass, awesome grandma, was put into a hospice temporarily a few weeks ago whilst they sorted her meds out (she'd forget to take them). About four days in they decided that she'd probably be in for a bit longer than they thought.

About a week ago my mum came home saying that Grandma had days left. I've tried to visit everyday since then. My first thought when I saw her was that she looked like she was melting (don't judge, my mind doesn't function on a courteous level). She's always had a fighting spirit, and when she wasn't strong enough to stay sat up in her wheelchair/bed she'd still ask to get out. When no one would let her out of bed (for her own sake) she threatened to shit in her bed unless they let her out (you can SO tell that we were related). She won that round.

This morning I left school after an hour feeling God-awful. I'm trying to be helpful, I look after my sister, nieces and nephew whilst my mum, aunts and brother run around after Grandma, I clean the house, cook food, go to work, do homework, sleep for Not Very Long and then go to school, and it's been the same for maybe three weeks. Totally worn out.

At about 3pm today my mum called and said she was going to drop by the hospice after work and then we'd go buy some food. I almost asked to go with her but I thought that'd be too fussy, so I stayed at home. 1 and a half hours later I got another call. Mum in tears saying grandma had died.




I had no idea what I was doing. I paced backwards and forwards trying to work out if I was going to cry or not, I thought about phoning BFF Main Gay.5, I thought about trying to call my dad. In the end I went to pick my sister up from school. I had to deliver the news.

And now I feel quiet. And sad, somewhere in the background. Anxious too, slightly, because I have to take time off school to sort stuff out. But I'm glad that she's not fighting anymore.

But now my mum owns grandma's house. Her and my sister are going to move in there, and me and my dad are going to stay where we live now. Dad'll be away for weeks at a time and I'll be more or less living on my own at age sixteen.

Scary potatoes.

Kathleen Rosemary Rogerson: 1st of Febuary, aged 70.

"Time, it took the most of me
And left me with no key
To unlock the chest of remedy."

Higher Than Hope - Nightwish

This is how it goes so far.

I keep thinking of ways to come back and say what's been happening since, Christicles, ages ago.

Lots of stuff has happened, lots of stuff hasn't happened and my sister, as ever, is being a cock.

Which makes me laugh really. It's nice that some things are consistent.

Mostly when I sit down to type something it goes like this.

The ceiling at Fibbers looks like any other living room ceiling. I can see it clearly because I'm stood on a platform. I'm stood on a platform because I'm working on the lighting desk. I'm looking at the ceiling because I'm shitting-bricks-nervous. A torch flashes side stage and I plunge the bar into darkness as the music starts. I'm muttering OkayokayokayokayI'mokayokayokay... under my breath and I'm hyperventilating. Stage fright from behind the crowd.

This is one of the more exciting things that has happened. I lit a show, lighting-engineer-style, one night last week and I didn't cock up. I even got a 'nice light show!' afterwards. I was nervous because I'm used to the lighting board at a bar called The Duchess and I learnt to use the board at Fibbers roughly three and a half minutes before the band started playing.

It went okay. It went well, even.

School's... iffy. I feel ill and tired most days, I'm actually off school today. I went in for one lesson and bleurgh.

I was horrified to discover that the new and improved Maryland cookies taste of ash, even though the improvement is that they've been made with golden syrup. I love golden syrup!

What a gyp.

What else, apart from The Big Thing?

My sister keeps sticking googly eyes to the vegetables in the fridge. I made mushroom stroganoff and it was looking up at me from the plate. I papped myself.

That's all I can be bothered to recap with right now.

Slipping off the radar.

Be right back. Lots of shit hitting the fan at the moment.

I've got a feeling, if I sing this loud enough...

Is it me or did 2009 go REALLY fast?

Seems like maybe last month that I was singing along to Muse's Knights Of Cydonia as Big Ben went BONG (it actually does go BONG, have you seen the Twitter page?).

You'd think the year would have dragged on longer just because I spent most of it doing nothing but schoolwork. What have I done this year?

1. I finished school at last.

2. I started sixth form (oh noooes!!).

3. I turned 16.

4. I got a job.

5. I brain-damaged myself.

6. I kept all my New Year's Resolutions because I didn't really have any.

That's more or less all I did this year.

The Noughties was actually a totally shit decade for the UK because we had the Seven/Seven terrorist attacks, the economy slipped into the shitter, Robin Hood got cancelled on the BBC, High School Musical was unleashed and other terrible, inhumane things probably happened too.

According to The Daily Mail 2010 will be better which basically means the rest of us a fucked. I hate that newspaper.

My spidey-senses are telling me that tonight will be a night to forget, and my planner is telling me that I am not going to get all my homework done in time and that I'm going to fail my exams and get kicked out of sixth form, then I'll lose my job and then I'll be murdered.

Excellent year coming up.

But, I get spend it with people like Hooker, Mo-Balls, Lemon, Anner, Smelly, Buff, Lil AB and the Rugrats so it could actually be the stuff of awesome.

Happy New Year: eat, drink and be merry.

Just call me Harry Potter.

I woke feeling weird this morning. Wide awake, nothing in my head, comfy. Not usual things for me. I checked the clock... 7.19am. I closed my eyes and settled back down again.

And about two minutes later my eyes flew open again.

First day at work today getthefuckoutofbedfuckshitcrappissandbollocks...

I'm a tad neurotic first thing on a morning.

At any rate, I ended up being twenty minutes early. If I knew I was being paid today I would've gone straight to the store, but instead I headed to McDonald's were I had the shock of my life...

"Hey, a small fries please?"

"Umm... We don't have any fries."

Since when have McDonald's not had any fries!?

*hyperventilating* "What... the hell... happened?"

"We're on the breakfast menu at the moment."

Oh. OH!

Whew. Almost had a moment there.

I got covered in grease and salt and walked into the store feeling pretty crumby. Apparently it didn't show.

Let me describe this particular store to you lovely American/Australian people. Basically, instead of having of having shelves of products on the shop floor and stuff, you have a big catalogue, and you choose what you want, pay for it and then suddenly, out of the tens of thousands of items that are hidden away - presumably in a hole in time and space - you receive your item. It's amazing.

It's like... one of the biggest mysteries of the modern world - it defies science. Probably.

Anyhoo, you have to imagine that all these items are stored somewhere. You can't just conjure these things out of thin air the way I thought they did for SO long it's embarrassing (up until I was about eight I thought this place was magical. Now I just think it's awesome).

Today, I came face-to-face with the single most daunting warehouse I have seen in my short history of seeing warehouses (though anything that looks like it requires effort is a daunting prospect to me).

Have you seen Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, where they're in the maze?



To my mind, that was EXACTLY what it was.

Sadly I don't think vines are going to start shooting out of the shelves and rip Rob Pattinson's clothes off, though for a moment there I could've sworn it was about to happen.

Anyhoo, I snacked on muffins and cookies whilst watching videos about how to deal with fires (apparently "run the other way" isn't quite right) and violent customers (ditto "sock 'em one") and then I went on my way.

Awesome, easy day of non-work with funny people that I get paid for.

I love this place.

There is, sadly, one little detail that renders this post bittersweet...

I may have signed up to work hours next week that totally wipe out any plans to go see N-N-N-New Moon on Friday or Saturday.

So it'll be Sunday before I get to see it. That's crap. That's two days after it'll be released. When Twilight came out in cinemas, I'd seen in three times before the third day of release.

This will not do.

Anyways, I've got it planned to go with the lovely Lemon, who I have already dubbed as an ah-may-zing Twilight cinema buddy, and we will be great.

I'm totally wearing my Twilight t-shirt next week. (Oh yeah, I have one of those = SAD)