"I promise you, I'm always there when your heart is filled with sorrow and despair"

We've almost been off school for a week and have I done anything productive? Of course not.
It's all well and good saying that I'll sit and do two gide essays, a nada essay and chaucer revision in my free time, but actually doing them is slightly more challenging.

Today, what I've done doesn't even come close to productive. I woke up at about 9.30, which was more impressive than yesterday when I crawled out of bed at about 11, then I went downstairs, had breakfast, turned on the TV and listened to some ghetto beats for literally hours. I think I'm actually becoming a chav. I try to kid myself that I only like dance music when I'm out somewhere, but to be quite honest, I thoroughly enjoyed them whilst sitting on my sofa at 10 in the morning. Don't get me wrong, I'm not chav enough to claim that "Taio Cruz" are lyrical genuises. "You wanna take a bite? Come whet my appetite, But put me in, do your thang, make my head spin" isn't exactly the most eloquent piece of writing I've ever come across, but my inner chav secretly loves it. *Shame.*


I returned from my trip to Durham the day before yesterday. You'd think that, by the state of my hair and face when I came back home, I'd been living on the streets of Durham for a night or two. In actual fact, I had stayed in a nice little, civilised room in Collingwood College and still managed to look like a tramp. The reason for my sweaty betty look was because, being the tit that I am, I decided to bring only casual clothes, in other words: jeans and plainish tops. When I discovered that there was going to be a disco on the monday night, my heart really did sink a bit, especially considering that the only shoes I'd brought were my uggy ones. Fan-tas-tic. I must have looked like a freak on that dance floor. People were like flipping sardines when they were dancing and so the room was basically a vessel of body heat. Then there's me, dressed like I'm about to go play in a bloody snowstorm in -50 degree weather. I'm sure I must have been the epitome of sexy.

Speaking of sexy, I have come to a realisation that Northern Ireland should change its title to Ugly Land. It would be more appropriate. My jaw was practically on the floor when I discovered that english boys, unlike northern irish ones, can be attractive. Not only were several of them attractive, they were really rather gorgeous. YUSS. Hopefully that means that when I go to Durham, there will be a slight chance of me getting a boyfriend who has a good personality and is also attractive. Crazy times, I know.

Obviously the fact that there's good looking people there isn't the only reason why I decided to pick Durham as my first choice. There is also the fact that it's incredibly pretty and right beside Newcastle, meaning that I can do all my shopping there. Newcastle is also meant to be fantastic for nights out, though apparently most people just go to Durham, even though one of its nightclubs was voted the 2nd worst in Europe. In Europe. The reason for that is because they supposedly play the cheesiest music you can think of. To be quite honest, cheesy music doesn't constitute a bad night out for me. There's nothing better than a bit of cheese, I say.

I need to go straighten my hair now, and have lunch because I'm so hungry right now that even the computer screen looks rather appetising.

Also: I am 18 in exactly a week...
WOOHOO.
That is all.