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Apparently, horseflies abso-fuckin'-lutely love my blood. This is a very bad, horrible, no good thing.

My arm is like the size of a grapefruit.

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My mother has Twittter.


Iamsoveryscrewed.
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So, either the Rapture happened and I'm screwed, or it didn't and there'll be no end -of-the-worlding til 2012.

I dressed up an' everything.
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...You should most definitely not eavesdrop when you stepfather tells your aunt that a glitch in his internet capper means that it won't come into effect at the allotted time if you are still on the internet at the cut-off time. TAKE THAT, B.T.

Also, a question for the flist : When the Clinique lady said the skin sat comfortably on my cheeks, should I have taken it as an insult? Especially when she asked if I used anti-wrinkle cream (I'M IN COLLEGE, FFS)?
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Aresenal is playing Barcelona. This is a mistake.

I have just been informed by the oh-so-sage commetators that '(football) is a hard game to play without the ball'.

No shit.

Also, not one of the players on the pitch looks old enought to walk into a bar and legitimately order a beer.

(Haggis for tea. IDK.)
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Today has just been one colossal case of opening One's mouth merely to change feet.

I may or may not have mentioned in passing conversation that Dad wants to start up a pension fund for me and my sisters.

This was not a good idea.

Ma went absolutely bugnuts monkeyfuck insane. And is now angsting like a damsel wronged because she now won't be able to get within 20 years of said money.

...Ooops?



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Were it not for the fact that I'vee been awake for most of the last 48 hours, I would be willing to bet heavily that someone had taken a 2x4 to my skull.
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IT'S SNOWING!

(I may or may not be whistling the entire soundtrack to 'White Christmas' and 'Holiday Inn' as I type)

God, I love snow!

What I love more? The British reaction, which roughly translates as OMGWTFBBQSNOWSNOWSNOWITSWHITEANDSNOWYSTOPEVERYTHINWEMUSTSTOPALLTHETHINGS!

Seriously, what other nation IN THE WORLD effectively shuts down until things un-freeze? Everyone else recognizes that yes, snow is cold, yes it makes driving slightly more interesting but as long as you have proper winter tyres and don't drive like the recently lobotomized, it isn't actually the end of the world.

But it does mean that I now have a valid reason to wear my jingle bell socks and hibernate under my duvet inbetween lobbing snowballs at unfortunate passers-by (read: my family).

Merry Christmas, folks.

'Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, since we've no place to go-o, let it snow, let it snow. let it snow...'
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A.K.A Sweetheart's trip to the sun-drenched vistas of the Costa del Clyde.

Chuck got wet, it pissed down, Sweetheart learned some curious new words which she'll endeavor to use in everyday language I ate a ton of macarroon and, the highlight of the insanity stakes, the creme de la creme of my trip; the kindly old guard at the gate of Scone Palace tried to set me up with the Master of Stormont.

I think that qualifies as a successful trip :D
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Is there anything more embarassing in this life, barring mothers who adjust their teenage daughters busts in PUBLIC (yes, I mean you, Ma), than your elderly grandmother talking about AND OFFERING YOU HER BRA'S.

I love my grandma to pieces, I really do, but somedays I would quite happily, nay cheerily! abandon her on a very remote island all by her lonesome.

More to the point, why does she think I'll want them?
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Sweetheart now has the 'flu. She has HUGE AND VERY IMPORTANT EXAMS in about ooooh, five days.



Halp.
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I fully hold my aunt responsible for the fact that despite the glorious day outside, I have been glued to my laptop ( not revising for the HUGE AND VERY IMPORTANT EXAM on Tuesday) I have been Youtube-ing my tiny heart out because I've suddenyl discovered a serious need for Inspector Lewis and the dishy Sergeant Hathaway.

And whilst I'm on the subject; Oh, Hathaway.

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HaHA!
SWEETHEART HAS FINALLY SLAIN THAT VILE BEAST COURSEWORK. Take that, internet!

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This is the type of day I've had so far:
I missed my alarm.
I walked into the doorframe. TWICE.
I stabbed myself in the eye with a friggin' mascara brush.
I nearly forgot the maths lesson.
I actaully did forget how to use a calculator.
I then SLEPT THROUGH MY ENGLISH LESSON LIKE A PRE-SCHOOLER.
I forgot to take all forms of medication, resulting in a really spaced-out day.
 
 
I am calling it a day already, before I accidentally manage to blow up Switzerland or something.
 

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Instead of doing her coursework, which, by the by, is now soooo past being late it isn't even remotely funny, Sweetheart discovered a love of old black-and-white Cary Grant movies, along with a maybe-not-so-healthy-given-as-how-he's-dead-an'-all-and-even-if-he-were-alive-he'd-be-a-hundred-and-four affection for the actor himself.

So, naturally, she has spent the last week cultivating said obsession interest with much much more enthusiasm than she has ever shown her poor, neglected coursework.

Damnation, Cary Grant! A curse upon you and your dimpled chin! Darn you and your captivating voice!
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Swetheart has finally learnt her lesson on cutting with knives and finger placement, and a rather painful lesson at that.
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What Sweetheart needed  to do this weekend:
  • Final Piece of Coursework.
  • Tidy her room, so she scan actually use her chair for sitting, and her desk for writing.
  • Laundry, because she is wearing the clothes she's had for a really long time. And you can tell.
  • Gardening. I haz no grass, I haz leaf litter and mud.
What Sweetheart actually did this weekend:
  • Absolutely none of the above. At all.
  • Fanfiction.
  • Eljay.
     
Dammit.

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Sweetheart

December 2011

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