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Birthday Celebrations… Yay Or Nay?

I am faced with a potentially awkward predicament (what am I talking about my whole life is an awkward predicament urgh).

My birthday is next week.

I don’t really like my birthday.

*Cue cries of indignation and disbelief*

I know!

All the pomp and being the centre of attention and being spoiled really isn’t me.

Plus the awkwardness of receiving presents. For some reason I hate possibility that someone would stress out/spend their money on me.

I’m bad at seeming thankful as well. My only marketable talent is that I’m a world-class liar, but whenever I say I like a present, even if I actually do, I don’t sound at all genuine.

I tend to go down one of three routes with my thank-yous:

1.     fakesmile

Stupidly-bad polite smile (usually reserved for distant relatives, grandparents and those of a sensitive/touchy disposition)

2.     sobeautiful

Overly emotional breakdown due to the perfection of the gift — frequently accompanied by blubbing, delirium and visits to the local mental hospital.

3.     heathermorris-freakingout

(My personal favourite) All-out, full-on, no-holds-barred freakout. Expect hyperventilation, smashing surrounding objects and a strong possibility of passing out.

So, besides the gift-related weirdness, why else don’t I like to celebrate the anniversary of my entry into existence?

The P Word.

I’m fine with them when it’s just casual, but when it’s for my birthday I don’t want to disappoint and I feel a load of pressure and…

Wait.

No.

PARTIES.

I AM TALKING ABOUT PARTIES.

you sick people.

GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER.

Dammit.

So, no.

Also, my drunk dancing is HORRENDOUS. I literally channel this gorgeous specimen:

leo-dancing

I.

Am.

A.

Dork.

So, I’m leaning towards a big, fuckoff NAYYYYY right now.

Eurgh, I can’t even think about it *shudder*

MISSJ

 

What do you guys think?

YAY OR NAY?

XX

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Uncategorized

A-Level Results Day: The Verdict

Well, fuck.

That was weird.

Le Lowdown:

Went to school with my friend A. We were both feeling trippy. No biggie. She rather suitably had a crewneck on with a huge hand flipping the middle finger.

Appropriate.

Got to school. Officially preparing to die. K.

Went into the hall. They were lined up in envelopes in boxes. It felt like some twisted version of the Hunger Games. Fully expected Effie Trinket to burst out and pound me in the head with one of her wigs or something.

Mental.

Signed off on the register. Got handed my results.

About ready to flip my shit, climb on a table and rugby tackle people I hate.

Or die from heart failure before I could open the results.

Decimated my envelope in the process of trying to get it open.

Looked at the results.

My string of reactions went kind of like this:

brucewillisdoubletake

waitwhat

arnoldshocked

silverliningsyay

I could not fucking believe it.

THREE As AND TWO Bs BITCHESSSSSS!

jEsuS.

Pretty good, seeing as in my exams my brain went into lockdown and quarantined the bits with my intelligence in them. I literally ended up like:

everywordiknow-gif

I felt bad for people who didn’t do as well as they’d hoped though. It’s hard to seem genuine in those situations, and I always feel like I’m doling out fake sympathy and really bad advice. Well, when I last had a bad set of results and people tried to comfort me, I was like,

princess+bride+gif

Kinda.

But anyway.

I SURVIVED A-LEVEL RESULTS DAY!

(and all I got was this crappy blog post)

 

YIPPEE KI-YAY MOTHERFUCKERRRRR!

aceventuradance

XX

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Anecdotes., Uncategorized

I am never drinking again.

I swear to the fricking cosmos, I will never touch alcohol again in my life.

You know on the last post I was all like,

Via buzznet.com

Via buzznet.com

Well, I did.

And holy moley do I regret it.

It’s not just the aftermath that I hate.

At the party, I was going back into the house and I tripped over the threshold.

Now, this wasn’t just some minor slip.

I really fell.

Like, a combination of:

Via quirkbooks.com

Via quirkbooks.com

and

FALLOVER

Aaaand now my left palm and my whole fricking kneecap is black and blue.

FANTASTIC.

And I’m pretty sure I did some inappropriate dancing with some other drunk people.

Too much peach schnapps/beer/spirits/life.

I can’t even think about it eurgh.

I really hope no one remembers this.

So then I got picked up, and we gave my friend a lift home.

He and I were both past the milestone of being heavily intoxicated.

Aaaand we had to make pseudo-sober smalltalk with le mother in the car.

He was actually really good at pretending he was sober.

I just kept giggling.

LIKE AN IDIOT.

So we dropped him off, all was well, I got home, went straight to bed thinking, “YAH, I’LL SLEEP THIS MOTHAFOWKAH OHFF N I’LL BE PERF 2MOZ” (that’s my drunk voice btw.)

I went to bed feeling like I was going to puke.

AND GUESS WHAT.

I woke up at 4am next to a load of puke on my pillow.

FAB.
JUST FAB.
YOU REALLY OUTDID YOURSELF THIS TIME, ZAE, YEAH, YOU DID.

So my mum, being the saint she is, got up at the ungodly hour it was and changed the sheets on my bed and got me a glass of water.

I spent the following day and a half turning my stomach inside out.

I can’t even think about alcohol without feeling BLEURGHGGHGHAASDAGDHJKL anymore.

I’m never fricking drinking again.

Ever.

 

 

 

I think.

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Anecdotes.

Swat Ninja.

Okay, this post is a measure of how lacking in sanity I am.

It was 11pm, and I was dumb enough to turn my light on and have my window open at the same time.

Then a moth the size of a flipping poker chip flew in.

I hate moths.

I’m not scared of them, I just hate them.

They’re just so…

Source: reddit.com

Source: reddit.com

(Michelle Obama is amazing. End.)

And I’m not squeamish.

I think it’s the flutteriness…

EURGH.

Anyway.

So I was faced with a predicament because I wanted to go to sleep at this point, and I was not about to chuck myself into unconsciousness when there was a chance of this thing flying up my nose or whatever.

And I get grouchy when I’m tired.

This moth was standing between me and sleep.

Therefore, this moth had to be terminated.

I armed myself with a flyswat and began the approach.

It was on the wall.

I had it.

Then, with a brief yuck-flutter, it landed slap-bang on my Fault In Our Stars poster.

Right on Ansel Elgort’s schnoz.

(That’s a nose for anyone who doesn’t speak Izaelien.)

I am protective of this poster.

Thus, this moth just made an act of war.

And, I (out loud, full of rage) said, “Oh, it’s on, bitch”, looking like,

Source: memecrunch.com

Source: memecrunch.com

So I chivvied it off the poster (I couldn’t bring myself to splat it all over Ansel Elgort’s beautiful face. Potaple will understand) and I managed to semi-swat it in the air.

It fell down the back of my bedside table. Pulling the table out of the way, I saw that the moth was still moving, but slowly.

Again, out loud, I said, Aha! I have you now, fiend!”

I am ashamed to know me.

I managed to squish it and dispense of it after wrapping it in a zillion tissues to make sure it wouldn’t magically reanimate and invade my nostrils in the night.

Genuinely.

I think I am insane.

But nevertheless.

You can call me:

Swat Ninja, Vanquisher of Moths and Liberator of the Bedroom Realm, Defender of Sleep and Wielder of Swatness.

XX

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Uncategorized

My Week = Made.

Oh.

My.

Gawd.

As the title states, my week has just been made.

In fact, my month has probably just been made.

My friend just texted me, casually asking me if I’m free on Thursday evening.

I said, equally casually, that I am.

Then she dropped the bombshell:

SHE HAS A SPARE TICKET TO SEE AN ADVANCE SCREENING OF THE FAULT IN OUR STARS!

AND SHE ASKED ME TO GO WITH HER!

I CAN’T

I JUST CAN’T

OH

MY

LORD

I AM A PUDDLE.

For all of you who have read the book and are even slight fans of it will understand my excitement.

(As a marker, I fell off my chair when I read the text. A hard thing to do, seeing as I was sat in an armchair)

It isn’t out in England officially until next Thursday.

But I am literally bouncing around with happiness right now.

GAH.

To get everyone in le moooooood (for foooooooood!)  for this extravaganza, here’s my favourite song from the soundtrack:

PEACE OUT, Y’ALL! XX

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Uncategorized

(Attempted) Life Assertion

Sup, ma bloglings.

Upon ruminating (hurrah for big words!) on life in an existential manner today, I came to the conclusion that I am taking the wrong approach.

Instead of waiting for it to come around and smack me upside the head with a brick named Destiny, I should go out and grab life by the metaphorical horns.

But the thing is, I wouldn’t know where to start.

(That’s a question, isn’t it? O universe, great void, thou almighty entity, O supreme existence, where art thou horns?)

Okay, you’re probably looking like:

Source: knowyourmeme.com

Source: knowyourmeme.com

I would be too if I was on the receiving end of my ramblings.

It makes sense when it’s in my head.

Sometimes it’s even funny.

(promise)

But anyhow, I’ve decided to be proactive about things from now on, regardless of whether I’ve located the universe’s horns or not (what am I waffling on about seriously I need to shut UP.)

Meaning I need to promise myself I will not hermitify myself over the summer holidays and do nothing but read/watch films all day.

I shall… (oh my god what am I saying…)

Have a social life.

Source: memegenerator.net

Source: memegenerator.net

I KNOW.

but I will MAKE time.

Urgh.

I have a feeling this is going to be hard to do.

I do love curling up in an armchair and watching V for Vendetta on loop while consuming unhealthy amounts of hot chocolate and peanut butter sandwiches.

But NEVERTHELESS.

I shall march on.

Like a marchy thing.

YES.

OKAY.

YEAH.

LET’S DO THIS

*HEADBUTTS WALL IN MASCULINE FASHION*

HUUUHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.

Eddard-Stark-Internet-Meme

IZAEZEL OUT.

(I mean, come on. Sean Bean in an umbrella hat? Nothing is better than that.)

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Uncategorized

Blasts from the (nineties/early-noughties) past

I’ve been trawling through my music library this afternoon, and I’ve stumbled across a shedload of songs that I used to love that I haven’t given a thought to in years (man, that was a long sentence). I am actually semi-mortified that I used to genuinely like some of these, but hey, I have no pride/shame left anyway.

Plus, it made me feel like an old pensioner knowing these songs are so old.

So, anyhow, I’d thought I’d share them with you. Hope you enjoy!

Voilà!

  • Over My Head — The Fray (2005)
    Who doesn’t love this song?! Anyone remember How To Save A Life? Man, I have missed this.
  • Milkshake — Kelis (2003)
    Anyone who says this doesn’t make them want to dance with degrees of questionable legality is lying. End.
  • Sk8ter Boi — Avril Lavigne (2002)
    Okay, I officially feel ancient. Twelve years old?!  I am done.
  • Club Foot — Kasabian (2004)
    TEN YEARS?! WHAT THE SHMUCK.
  • I See You Baby — Groove Armada (1999)
    As my friend Olivia would say, this sh*t’s FUNKAAAY.
  • Overload — Sugababes (2001)
    Any one of you lovelies who regularly read my ramblings will know that I actually still like this song, and was dancing around my living room to it the other day. Just after I published that post, my brother walked in while I was mid-way through an enthusiastically-danced Sprinkler move. Well, at least I consistently embarrass myself. It’s not like it’s unprecedented or anything.
  • The Power — Snap! (1990)
    No explanation needed.
  • Seven Nation Army — The White Stripes (2003)
    Eleven whole years. Eleven. What. How. Why. Damn.
  • U Can’t Touch This — MC Hammer (1990)
    I’m not bragging or anything, but I can do the dance that’s in the video. Just saying. I’m most probably the coolest person in the room right now. Yep. We have a badass over here.
  • Canned Heat — Jamiroquai (1999)
    I can’t not dance whenever I hear this, even in public places. Actually, especially in public places. (Sidenote: one of the many great contradictions of the universe is that it is not socially acceptable to dance in public, yet they play catchy music. WHY.)
  • Just The Way I’m Feeling — Feeder (2002)
    A song I absolutely adore, enough said.
  • Hey Ya! — Outkast (2003)
    My favourite part of PE lessons last year? They’d play this over speaker when we were doing circuit training. I swear, I have never been so motivated to do bench presses in my life.
  • Don’t Stop Movin’ — S Club 7 (2001)
    Couldn’t be cheesier if you slathered it in cheddar and called it Marguerite, but that’s half the point.

 

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little dose of nostaglia as much as I have.

Later, Padawans! XX

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