For some reason everyone around here is going down with mumps.
Matt was in the kitchen when I got back Sunday night, and was complaining in a very camp manner about having swollen glands. I told him not to be such a girl and stop overreacting.
The next day there was a note on the table saying he'd had to go home and we were to help ourselves to his milk and sweets. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to stop me happily munching my way through a packet of allsorts.
So today I have been trying to find out if and when I've had immunisations, and occasionally staring at my neck in the mirror for impending hamster-ness.
I hope I don't get it, I don't want to look like this kid -
But of course now I'm thinking about it, I feel like I have caught it.
I'm still trying to do those essays. I've done one (or at least, I made notes, typed up the notes, and found I had the word count so didn't bother doing anything else), and I'm totally stuck on the second.
I keep finding things to do instead of work. Like make another cup of tea, eat a creme egg (a task that takes me generally about 15 minutes), go on Suicide Girls, go on ebay, read a book (have so far read two my mum posted to me on Friday, and have now started on another - Mankind, Mick Foley's autobiography as if anyone cares). Am now searching for a picture of his missing ear. There we go...
I keep seeing things I want to do instead of going back to my essay. There's an interestingly hideous shade of nail varnish I just know my toes are crying out for, and a Prince cd I haven't hairbrush-mirror danced to in ages, and a slinky I forgot I had.
Okay okay I'll go work. Probably.
"...she wore a raspberry beret..."
Pissed myself laughing as I read the words "RONAN KEATING - 10 YEARS OF NITS" til I realised i'd spilled tea on it and it actually said "10 years of HITS".
Mastermind is on. It worries me that someone could possibly know so much about something so specific - like this guy doing "the travels of Michael Palin" or this woman here "Sylvia Plath" - she even knows the name of her old English teacher, and the words on her gravestone. I'm trying to think of something I know that much about...Pearl Jam? Dodgy grunge bands? British comedy involving Bill Bailey and Simon Pegg? 80's teen movies? Biscuits? I don't think there's anything I'm THAT obsessed with. Ooh, fighter plane man is losing. Oohh, I'm doing quite well on the non specific type round. Mainly cus the first question was about John Peel which is ubereasy (I loved that man).
My important bit of post that was forwarded urgently from Dad's house is actually a DFS sofa catalogue and "vouchers" (sale promotion). DFS is just down the road from our house, since it's just a big village and that's the only big thing there.
I'm craving chips and mayonnaise.
*drools*
I want to audition for the UK Burlesque troupe, but how on earth do you come up with a routine? Who teaches you these things? I used to dance, but I hardly feel my well honed ballet and tap skills will get me very far - which leads me nicely onto a couple of random facts...
...I used to take ballet, tap, jazz, stage, modern and disco dance lessons. I haven't a clue how to dance, but I have good rhythm
...I have massive fluttery schoolgirl-type crushes on Alan Rickman, Bill Bailey, John Cleese, Simon Pegg, Dylan Moran and about 3 of the Warriors (1979 movie, not any football/baseball/basketball teams there may or may not be).
Matt was in the kitchen when I got back Sunday night, and was complaining in a very camp manner about having swollen glands. I told him not to be such a girl and stop overreacting.
The next day there was a note on the table saying he'd had to go home and we were to help ourselves to his milk and sweets. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to stop me happily munching my way through a packet of allsorts.
So today I have been trying to find out if and when I've had immunisations, and occasionally staring at my neck in the mirror for impending hamster-ness.
I hope I don't get it, I don't want to look like this kid -
But of course now I'm thinking about it, I feel like I have caught it.
I'm still trying to do those essays. I've done one (or at least, I made notes, typed up the notes, and found I had the word count so didn't bother doing anything else), and I'm totally stuck on the second.
I keep finding things to do instead of work. Like make another cup of tea, eat a creme egg (a task that takes me generally about 15 minutes), go on Suicide Girls, go on ebay, read a book (have so far read two my mum posted to me on Friday, and have now started on another - Mankind, Mick Foley's autobiography as if anyone cares). Am now searching for a picture of his missing ear. There we go...
I keep seeing things I want to do instead of going back to my essay. There's an interestingly hideous shade of nail varnish I just know my toes are crying out for, and a Prince cd I haven't hairbrush-mirror danced to in ages, and a slinky I forgot I had.
Okay okay I'll go work. Probably.
"...she wore a raspberry beret..."
Pissed myself laughing as I read the words "RONAN KEATING - 10 YEARS OF NITS" til I realised i'd spilled tea on it and it actually said "10 years of HITS".
Mastermind is on. It worries me that someone could possibly know so much about something so specific - like this guy doing "the travels of Michael Palin" or this woman here "Sylvia Plath" - she even knows the name of her old English teacher, and the words on her gravestone. I'm trying to think of something I know that much about...Pearl Jam? Dodgy grunge bands? British comedy involving Bill Bailey and Simon Pegg? 80's teen movies? Biscuits? I don't think there's anything I'm THAT obsessed with. Ooh, fighter plane man is losing. Oohh, I'm doing quite well on the non specific type round. Mainly cus the first question was about John Peel which is ubereasy (I loved that man).
My important bit of post that was forwarded urgently from Dad's house is actually a DFS sofa catalogue and "vouchers" (sale promotion). DFS is just down the road from our house, since it's just a big village and that's the only big thing there.
I'm craving chips and mayonnaise.
*drools*
I want to audition for the UK Burlesque troupe, but how on earth do you come up with a routine? Who teaches you these things? I used to dance, but I hardly feel my well honed ballet and tap skills will get me very far - which leads me nicely onto a couple of random facts...
...I used to take ballet, tap, jazz, stage, modern and disco dance lessons. I haven't a clue how to dance, but I have good rhythm
...I have massive fluttery schoolgirl-type crushes on Alan Rickman, Bill Bailey, John Cleese, Simon Pegg, Dylan Moran and about 3 of the Warriors (1979 movie, not any football/baseball/basketball teams there may or may not be).
VIEW 26 of 26 COMMENTS
My handkerchief will wipe up your blood!
So you got that job as janitor, after all.
Don't let your essays get you down, there's world affairs and country-music for that. I find being blindly drunk is a marvellous antidote to just about anything. (Except getting pulled over.)
And your entries in my journal cause uncontrollable grins and unscheduled cheering up. big xo for you