Friday, March 11, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Recount of Today:
Wow, I'm so happy because we finally won a game of netball today against Muirfield. The score? 10-2. It felt really good to use a lot of energy up, which I haven't done in a long time. I'm so unfit, after going to China on a month long holiday, and pigging out on their 'snapping candy' there, which crackles in your mouth when it comes in contact with your saliva.
Everyone goes through a phase of being really addicted to Facebook but then gets over it. I got over this kind of phase last year, but now I'm so addicted again. We have our Maths Common next week, so I really hope I'll have enough self-control to tell myself to get off Facebook and start revising. Our class is so behind so we're kind of stuffed already.
Yesterday was a pretty good day, which I haven't had in ages so I was really happy and woke up in a good mood today. Me and my brother rushed so much this morning and kept forgetting stuff and we ran at least from the car to the house in order to retrieve something we forgot, like my phone and shoes and stuff.
I don't even know why you're reading this. It's just a recount of a typical day of an average girl's life.
Dinner now. Cooked by my awesome dad =P
Monday, March 7, 2011
haters they can hate.
Well hello my imaginary followers.
Today was an okay day I guess. The highlights aree
>> I realise I don't like him anymore. Hahahahhahah >:)
>> I am informed the reason why this girl stares at me all the time in maths
>>It's N's birthday today :) but she didnt have a very nice day >=[
Anyways..I like this person. Or at least I think I do, because I don't know him very well. I don't even know what his voice sounds like or I haven't really spoken to him in person. Which sounds stupid. Wait..this whole paragraph is so pointless. ANYWAYS the main point is that I don't like him anymore. End of story.
Well there's this girl called T. And yes, that's what her name actually starts with. She stares at me in maths, almost in every period. She looks back at me even when I'm in the back row. Or even as I walk around the room. Or even talking to someone. And she just stares, or looks. At first I thought she was just looking around to see who was in her new maths class. But then she constantly just looks. And it was so creepy. UGGHHH. It scares me.
Well before class I was talking to N a lot. Just casually. But more than usual.
Then in class, I swapped seats a few times with NK and T and whenever I was walking to another seat, she just kept freakin staring at me. Like a lot. Like's it's so weird. But, being a sensible, responsible person as I am, I decided to avoid the awkwardness and just ignore her.
Finally, when the stupid angle lecture finished, I met N on the way out of my class. I started talking to her again :D and was like blahblahblahstupidangleslostmyrulerlalalaTstarin- and then she was like: But you never told me she was in your class. Me: well she is. N: reason why she's staring at you is cos she hates me. And cos you talk to me a lot, she hates you too. She deathstares you when she hates you. Me: Whaaat PSH that isn't even a deathglare. Wtf.
But the main thing is, why would you hate someone you hate friend? Like cos T hates N. A lot. And has been making her high school life a misery. And just cos you hate someone, does that mean you have to hate someone else too? Gosh. What is wrong with you. Hate me all you like. Stare** at me all you like. It doesn't even freakin affect me. And stop hating N, what has she even done to you anyway?
So keep hating. Bring it on, bitch, with that fatass face of yours. (jk, your face isn't fat. but your other friend's is.) but still..BRING IT.
Now I sound like a HellCat. ==
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Intro.
Well, here is my Blogger.
I made a Blogspot ages ago, but I never used it. So I'm going to use this as an online diary. This could possibly be the most stupidest thing you could ever do if you don't want anyone to read your private thoughts. But I'm not going to write down my private thoughts.
Instead, get ready for a load of ranting.
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