Monday, March 30, 2009
I totally forgot to blog about my first netball game last week! Why didn't anyone remind me? Oh, right, because no one cares. Whatever.
Well, to start off, I didn't know how to get into the courts. Seriously. Madi and I walked around the building over and over again, and none of the doors were open. It went like this:
Madi: Hey, there's a door!
Me: I'll go check it!
I go to check it
Madi: Is it locked?
Times a thousand.
At this point, I think the other team figured they pretty much had it in the bag. They knew there wasn't going to be much competition from two players who couldn't even figure out how to get onto the court.
Our team name is technically The Panthers. By technically I mean everyone else agreed with The Panthers, but I like to embarass myself by inventing more dirty or ridiculous names for us, and then yelling them out in the middle of the game. Mostly I rotate between The Multiple Scorgasms and The Wacky Waving Inflatible Arm-Flailing Tube Men.
I have to say, there is nothing like the look on a 40-something-year-old womans face when she hears you yelling "GO SCORGASMS!" at half-time.
I watched Australia today. I know the ads on TV say it doesn't come out on DVD until the day after tomorrow, but I got it yesterday. Yeah, that's right. Suck it bitches.
I think my favourite thing about Australia is that John Jarratt plays the town Sergeant. In case you're totally out of the loop, John Jarratt is the Ivan-Milat-wannabe from Wolf Creek.
I love it.
The whole time he was acting all Sergeant-y, bossing the soldiers around and shiz, and all I could think was "I once watched you cut some girls spine out!"
Also, who could forget the Hugh-Jackman-pouring-bucket-of-water-on-himself scene? Because its not just hot, its also hilarious. Don't try to pretend you didn't laugh when you saw it, because we all know you did. I did. I laughed. I laugh every time.
And I mean every time.
I watch it, and I laugh. And then I rewind it, and watch it again, and laugh again.
And then I repeat this process until whoever I'm watching it with knocks me unconcious with the DVD cover.
Jacki Trew - proud to be Australian.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Being able to fly. Only because I have so many dreams that I can, and when I wake up and realise I can't, I'm always super bummed (haha. super bummed. See what I did there?).
Or maybe the power to be super good-looking. Like, good-looking enough that I could pull a guy like Wentworth*
4. You shaved your genitals for 'Shawn of the Dead'. Explain your technique
Well, I...thought it would be a good idea? Honestly, I have no idea what this question even means, let alone how to answer it.
3. Is it true you are afraid of shorts?
Hell no! Its a common misconception; my sister Catherine thinks I'm afraid of pants, on account of the fact that I walk around the house in my undies. But its totally different.
2. What is your hidden talent?
Alright, nobody knows, but I'm actually an INCREDIBLY good driver. No, only kidding - I'm a terrible driver, and everyone knows it. Hidden talent? Well, I...know all the words to Midnight Train. AND I can make a killer lasagna (oh. By killer, yeah, I mean its so bad it'll probably kill you).
1. Whats the first thing you think of when you see this:
Damn! Now, why didn't I think of that? If Oscar wore a Yoda costume, he might not totally repulse everyone around him.
*Haha. Yeah, I just realised how dirty that sounds.
Friday, March 27, 2009
How freaking old is Lord of The Flies that they are talking about it on a TV show set in the 70's?
Seriously, high school English departments, you need to start thinking about new texts. Evidence: I'm not even in high school anymore, but I'm still thinking about how boring English was.
GET SOME NEW TEXTS!
To make it easy, I've compiled a list of suggestions:
- Prison Break
Apparently they are going to kill Michael in the last episode of Prison Break. For those of you who don't know, Michael is Wentworth Miller's character. Let me break it down for you:
Michael = Wentworth.
Wentworth = Michael.
Jacki = in love.
Now if Michael dies, there are 2 possible outcomes:
1) I, too, will die
2) I, too, will die
So, Fox executives, I hope you decide not to kill Michael. Unless, you know, you're ok with being murderers.
I don't know, maybe its just me, but there is something truly truly hilarious about a grown man talking to a dog. Especially the way my dad does it:
Dad: How was your day, Oscar?
Dad: Mine was very tiring. I think I'm going to pour myself a drink now.
Dad: Do you know what Baisy (that's me) is doing?
Dad: I'll just go and see if she wants anything
Dad walks up the stairs
Dad: Baisy, do you want anything?
Me: No thanks Dad
Dad walks down the stairs
Dad: She didn't want anything
Dad: So. What do you want for dinner?
Thursday, March 26, 2009
You really need to think about labeling your pills better. Like, it should be more clear which ones are for day, and which are for night.
Today I accidentally took two night pills, and I passed out on the couch for like 3 hours. I am not even kidding. One minute I was reading, the next I was out cold. In the middle of the day. Then I woke up with a magazine stuck to my face - do you know how hard it is to get magazine print off your skin?
Think about it, that's all I'm saying.
P.S Yes, I realise I am an idiot
Also, I bought it from a stall on the side of the road, and it cost me $3.
So anyway, Dad got a ladder and this huge industrial torch, and climbed into the attic. Oh, let me interrupt myself to say when he did this, I had a total Grudge moment - you know, when the guy sticks his head into the attic and sees the girls jaw on the ground? And then he gets attacked by the cat-boy? So I had visions of my Dad getting mauled by either Gollum or a Japanese ghost, but nothing happened.
Anyway he left the torch in the middle of our upstairs living room, and we are all so lazy in my family that nobody has bothered to take it back downstairs yet. So its been sitting there for two weeks. And every time I walk across the living room - which is alot, seeings as my room is attached to one side of it - I freak out, because I keep thinking its a severed head.
Speaking of people leaving things on the floor and then me thinking they are severed heads, Catherine left her toiletries bag (which is actually MY toiletries bag, only she stole it) in the middle of the bathroom floor for about 4 days, and every time I got up in the middle of the night to pee, I thought I was seeing a corpse head lying on the bath mat.
What is with that, anyway? There are plenty of other things I could think it was - my cat, a towel, a stain on the mat. But a severed head? I think I watch too much TV.
On a completely different note, today I came up with the perfect advertising slogan for Oporto, should they ever choose to join forces with a company that produces portable toilets:
Jacki: You know, I feel really bad for bicycle riders. If they ride on the sidewalk, you think they're going run over you, and if they ride on the road, you think you're going to run over them!
Catherine: Huh. Yeah.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Anyway, when I went to bed last night, I had maybe one of the craziest dreams ever.
That's a pretty big call.
But I think, after reading it, you might just agree with me. (Oh, before I start, all the people who made appearances in this dream are real. So if you are one of them, and you're creeped out by the fact that I dreamed about you...well, get over it).
So first of all, me and a group of friends are going clubbing. On George St. And when I say George St, I don't mean the regular George St, I mean a country town with a population of like, 7. But in the dream it was George St. I don't remember everyone who came, but Robbie Kerr was definitely there. As was Mel (Amon), Madi (MuSung) and Jessie (Grace).
Oh, I forgot. I said we were going clubbing - all the places we went to were fictional clubs from Sex and The City. Like, remember that episode where they went to a club called Bed? And it was basically just a huge room filled with beds, with loud music playing?
We went there.
Around the corner from Bed, there was a pub called Jager Explosion, which was apparently our favourite place ever. Oh, Mike (Warrell) was at Jager Explosion. We left Jager Explosion, went to some more places, then decided to go back, but we found that it was closed. Then I was all 'I don't feel like clubbing anymore', so I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I was lying on the bed in our guest bedroom. You know, the one with the magic doona?
Oh, I should tell you - this whole time, I'm wearing the exact same outfit I wore to Mandy's wedding.
So I get a text on my phone, and its Madi:
Hey! Since we didn't go out last night, we should go out tonight! Jager Explosion? Xx
Wait a minute. Didn't we go out last night? Or was the whole first part of the dream a...dream? A dream within a dream - but isn't that a coma? I didn't have much time to ponder, because at this point I was actually woken up by my mother who wants to know if I'm coming to the buffet breakfast. I decline, and go back to sleep - the dream continues.
So now I'm at my primary school, watching people walk around the oval. I'm standing on this balcony hanging over the oval, which doesn't exist in real life, but whatever. Two people that stand out to me are Jordan (Potts) and Jane (du Toit). Jane is dressed as Scarlett Johannson, and Jordan is parading her around yelling 'Hey, everyone! Her name is Scar-Shh now! Scar-Shh!'
Ok, I feel like I have to explain this part. You know how people make nicknames for celebrities by shortening their first and last names, and then squishing them together? Like Robert Pattinson is R-Patz? And Lindsay Lohan is LiLo? That's what Jordan was doing (or at least, trying to do) to Scarlett Johannson.
Now, here's my favourite part of the whole dream:
So I'm standing on the balcony, people-watching, with Julia (Hirst) and Anna (Goyen), and I hear Jordan screaming out the Scar-Shh thing, and I lean over the railing and shout:
Everyone KNOWS its Scar-Jo, asshole!!
and turn back to Julia and Anna, who have this look of complete shock on their faces. Then I woke up, because my sister was jumping on my bed. And in that moment, the only thing I could remember about the whole dream was the Scar-Jo/asshole thing, so I yelled it at Catherine.
Haha. I love it.
I love it so much, I think I'll make it my new catchphrase.
Because when you think about it, its funny and true - everyone DOES know.
Her name is Scar-Jo.
No, but I remember waking up the next morning covered in tattoos and wearing nothing but cowboy boots and a pink scarf.
(The elephant I mean)
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I love it when stuff like this happens. When you find out a celebrity loves or does the same things that you love or do, I mean. Even when its totally insignificant.
"No way you guys, Ellen Degeneres eats cereal for breakfast? No shiz, this is incredible - SO DO I!!!"
So that got me thinking. I should interact with celebrities more. I mean, its pretty obvious that we have tons in common. So I wrote to Rove, and asked for a job. Here is my application:
Rove, I think you should hire me.
For whatever. I can take out the garbage, I can interview Nicole Kidman, its cool. I just need a job. Why should you hire me? Funny you should ask, because I was just about to tell you.
I'm young and fun and crazy, and I couldn't care less if you pay me minimum wage.
I appreciate a good vomit-inducing roller coaster. I blog and twitter and I'm on facebook AND myspace, so you know, I can teach old people how to use computers.
I guess that's a skill.
I have no problem with people making jokes at my expense - in fact, I encourage it. Most of all, when I'm old and senile and stuff, I want to be able to tell my grandkids lots of stories about my crazy youth - and it would be cool if at least one of them was true.
Or at the very least, read some of my blog on the air - www.jackiiscrazy.blogspot.com
Its good, right? I even plugged myself, you know, by mentioning my blog.
Plugged myself? Haha. Gross!
Oh, by the way, I just noticed that I've written like 18 posts in the last week, and nobody has commented on any of them. Whats the deal, scurvies?
18 posts and no comments? Thats no way to treat a future Rove castmember!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
And when I'm surrounded by a crowd of 10,000 people and holding a microphone, the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a really bad Aaron Neville impression. So here is me, shoving my best material in all your faces until you give me the satisfaction I crave.
Well, that, or tell me to shut up.
Whatever. So, these are some of my best phrases. I encourage you to bring them up in conversation whenever you can:
"Who invented the word kankle? Because whoever it was, I am going to smack their bottom." - 14/08/04
"All you people out there - I BELIEVE IN YOU!! You CAN make your own g-string, and I am proof that IT IS POSSIBLE!!" - 11/08/04
"Also there was a cake shaped like a vagina...because we all know there is no point in having a cake unless everybody else on the planet is insulted by it." - 17/11/06
"Nicole Kidman has probably been naked in my house like a dillion times." - 30/10/06
"I didn't know they made undies that could be saggy and high-cut at the same time, but I'm wearing the proof." - 27/10/06
"All I could think was 'I'm about to get killed by my own hair!'" - 16/08/06
"It's been such a long time since I sat down at my computer and wrote anything that wasn't about Wentworth Miller. Or Prison Break. Or the fact that I'm in love with Wentworth Miller. And Prison Break" - 04/04/07
"So while you might think I'm plagiarising, I'm actually just educating you all on Postmodernism, so Mr Watson - you should buck up and give me an Extension History medal or something." -16/07/07
"Anyone who's anyone knows Catherine and I never look in the cupboard under the sink, because there is a reason we put things in the cupboard under the sink, and that reason is that they smell like a graveyard." - 16/07/07
"It's like the universes way of telling me that I will probably end up in prison within 12 minutes of leaving school and going into the real world." - 03/05/07
"Old people pretty much have no clue." - 15/04/03
"My dad is trying to connect his new computer to the internet. Without much success - he hasn't got any internet, and now our home phone isn't working." - 25/03/07
"If I watch the SuperBowl, I'm going to end up with hot turkey in my crotch. And that's never good." - 28/11/08
"Everything was going fine, until about 15 minutes into my walk, when I realised I had left the house without putting a bra on. Whoops." - 07/08/08
"First of all, I apologise for not blogging for so long. Second of all, I apologise for being so arrogant that I actually think people will read this." - 19/02/08
"Eventually, I solved the problem by kicking the fax machine until it turned off." - 30/01/08
"Michael Vaughn was so hot. His funeral should have been open-casket." - 13/02/09
"Here's to hoping I dont run over any (more) cops!" - 12/02/09
"Like this personal ad I saw recently. It said 'Albino he-she seeks similar'. I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but I don't think an albino he-she can afford to be choosy." - 02/02/09
And maybe my favourite of all time:
"While I was waiting for that photo to upload, I decided to compile a list of all the things that absolutely infuriate me. Here is it:
1) The Blogger photo-uploading system
That's as far as I got. As soon as I typed that, I got so angry that I couldn't go any further. I just punched the computer screen, then went to get some juice." - 13/02/09
By the way, it didn't.
None of you are google-worthy.
Oh, and yeah. I know 'awakeness' isn't a word. Thanks anyway, blogger spellcheck.
Hey, what do you know? Spellcheck isn't a word either.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Ok. Ok, boring. This isn't even news. I swear, Today Tonight is like the Greenwich Public School newsletter. It was only one page. ONE PAGE!! Roseville wrote a freaking book each week. And the name - News and Views? I didn't see any news in there. Once there was a report about pencil grips. I swear.
So Matthew White is pretty much the host of Today Tonight now, huh? What happened to Anna Coren? Does anyone else think its funny that 'Matthew White' rhymes with 'Today Tonight'? Does anyone else think its funny that I know the past 3 hosts of Today Tonight, but there are days when I can't even remember how old I am?
Oh. Weather. I see Today Tonight is trying to be cool and hip and modern by playing music over the weather these days. Well its not working. The weather is as boring and inaccurate as ever. But I do like this song - it always reminds me of Twilight.
I love Twilight. And Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen.
Where am I again? Oh yeah, living room.
For the longest time I saw Edward Cullen with black hair. You know, before the movie came out. Black hair? What was I thinking? They clearly describe it as 'russet' coloured. Whatever russet is. I don't know, but it sure doesn't sound like black.
I wonder if Rob Pattinson's hair will have grown back by the next movie.
What's the deal with vamp hair, anyway? Does it get dirty? Do they have to wash it? Does it grow? And, if it does grow, how do they cut it? Isn't every part of them supposed to be indestructable?
What about vampire leg hair? Its ok for the guys, but what about the girls? Can they shave it? Or is it indestructable too?
And thats it. That's where it ended. I'm still there - I've been stuck on vampire leg hair for the past 6 HOURS AND 11 MINUTES. I need to know! It's killing me!!
I think the only solution, really, is to write to Stephenie Meyer and ask her. Or you know, I could just ask Edward Cullen, who is waiting for me in my bedroom.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Ha! Kidding. That was a total lie. I just wanted to send my many readers into a panic. You know, all one of you - hi mum!
Ok so to make up for telling that lie, here are two things that are very much true:
1) I just ate 6 plain Saos in a row, and then had to drink like a whole litre of water to cancel out the dryness factor. Damn you, Arnotts!
2) On wednesday night I have my first competitive game of netball in like 18 months. Oh, man. This is going to be amusing. The most exercise I've gotten in the past year is walking from the couch to the pantry and back.
Plus you know playing in halves is going to make it harder - we USED to play in quarters. At least then I had a chance. Now I have to move constantly for 25 minutes? Are you kidding?
I have to get my ass to the gym. Just my ass though - the rest of me is perfect.
No, that's a lie. The rest of me needs surgery.
Still, I wouldn't mind going to the gym. It's fun to name the different work-out machines. Then, as soon as you walk through the doors, you can sprint towards the one you want, screaming "I bags Susan! She's mine!! Hey, back off lady, she's MINE!!"
You know, not that I've ever done that.
MY machine of choice was always Linda.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
And then like 3 people laughed.
Dammit! I was so not nervous until this point! Screw the pain, what if this guy writes Pease on my skin???
I'm tap tap tapping away on my computer, you know, fussing around the internet looking for something amusing, and I came across a photo of Saddam Hussein (don't ask how).
Me: Dude. How much does Saddam Hussein look like dad?
Catherine: (Looks at photo) Oh. Yeah!
You know how when a bus is accelerating, it makes that really loud noise?
Like a regular engine, I guess, but like a thousand times louder?
Not just like "I would prefer not to hear that".
I mean "I would chase down that bus, slash all the tires and strangle the driver if it weren't both illegal and physically impossible".
I can tell that when I'm old and senile and unable to stop myself from doing crazy stuff in public, I'm going to stand at busstops shaking my fist at every bus that goes past. Thats all I'll do. All day. Maybe take a lunch break, but basically, the bus thing will be my life.
Something to look forward to.
Ok, so my mum is always at me to cover my food before I put it in the microwave. You know.
Remember to cover it with gladwrap, otherwise it'll splatter everywhere, and if it does, I'm cleaning it up with your face.
Still. I never cover my food, for 2 main reasons:
1) The whole point of a microwave is to heat food up quickly, right? So if I spend all this time gladwrapping and shiz, it defeats the whole purpose. I may as well just use the freaking oven. And;
2) If you cover a bowl or whatever with gladwrap, it forms this, like, food-cave, which fills up with hot hot steam in the microwave. No, that wasnt a typo. I meant to say hot twice. I want you to know how hot it is. Anyway, then when you're done microwaving, and you try to get the gladwrap off, all the steam like, rushes out and sears your skin. Yum.
Anyway long story short, I never gladwrap before microwaving.
I know. Rebel without a cause or what? And usually it all works out fine. Except for today, when the universe decided to come back and bite me in the ass for all those times I was so ruthless with the microwave. Or maybe it was just a freak microwaving incident. Whatever, all I know is that it was definitely blogworthy*
So its lunchtime and I'm hungry. I found some leftover butter chicken in the fridge so I shove it in the microwave (without covering it) for like 2 minutes. Then, as I'm heading away from the kitchen, I put a piece in my mouth and bite down, and it like - I kid you not - EXPLODES in my mouth, and all this hot steam shoots out the left side and burns the inside of my cheek.
I think its pretty lucky that nobody else was home, and that neither of my animals were in the room, since the next thing I did was open my mouth, spit the piece of chicken onto the floor and start screaming.
And when I say 'screaming', I really mean 'making a noise that can only be described as a cross between a woman in labor and a dog being violently ill'.
Oh, and the whole time I was kind of hunched over in pain. I only wish there had been a mirror nearby, because I'm guessing it looked pretty hilarious.
The worst part though, is that not only could I not eat that chicken, since I was scared all of the pieces might be secret-steam-bombs, but now all the skin on the inside of my mouth that got burnt is coming off. So any time I try to eat anything, all I can taste is skin.
Fear of being attacked by microwaved chickens.
*My opinion of 'blogworthy' may differ greatly from that of other, more sane individuals. I mean come on, I wrote like 2 pages about Stanley Tucci last night.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
So one random afternoon, like 6 years ago, Julia and I sat down in her living room after school and turned on the TV, and there was some crazy end-of-the-world type movie on. Let me tell you - I love end-of-the-world movies. I am all about end-of-the-world movies. But since we had to trek down to the primary school and coach a bunch of 9 year olds on how to play netball, we couldn't watch all of it. The only thing we saw was London getting attacked by a flock of frenzied pidgeons - it was enough to get me hooked.
Then, a year or 2 later, I was on holidays in Sabah, and I turned on the TV in our hotel room - guess what I saw - that very same scene, with the birds attacking London!! And as luck would have it, everyone else in my family was either asleep, reading or in the shower, so I sat through 2 hours of cinematic genius, otherwise known as The Core.
So obviously, when I saw that The Core was on TV tonight, I pretty much freaked. I mean, right out. I was psyched for this movie. So 830 rolls around, I'm parked on the couch with a can of Red Bull and Twilight (you know, for the commercials)...and it starts.
One thing before I go on...you should know, I have a certain penchant for really bad movies.
Like, Space Jam. Or Boogeyman.
Oh, and has anyone else seen that movie where those kids from Hawaii build a solar-powered car and then enter it in a race across the Simpson Desert? It was awesome!
So, that said...
Here's why you should all watch The Core:
- Its got all these really good actors, but it still turned out terrible. Aaron Eckhart, Hilary Swank, Stanley Tucci - and I love me some Stanley Tucci. Also, Hilary Swank? If theres something that amuses me more than almost anything else, its when someone wins an Oscar, then makes a movie like The Core.
- The CGI is really dodgy. Like, in that first scene? You have all these animated birds crashing into shop fronts and car windows and stuff, and then you noticed that one of them is actually a fish. No joke. I'm no genius, but even I know the different between a bird and a fish. This was no bird.
- It has that guy who sucks up to Dr Kelso on Scrubs in it. You know, that random doctor who follows Kelso around in some episodes? And Dr Cox likes to make jokes about how he's "elbow deep in Dr Kelso's Colon"?? He's totally in this movie! For like, 8 seconds. For some reason, the sun becomes super hot, but only to people living in San Francisco (they don't have to explain, its an end-of-the-world-movie thing), anyway Dr Suckup is sitting in his car with his arm out the window and it, like, gets seared off the by sun.
- They have the most idiotic one liners. Like, they are in the ship, heading towards the core of the earth, and they see these giant diamonds everywhere. And the main guy goes "Diamonds? I want some!"
- The writers think the audience are morons. Like at the beginning, when the two main characters are trying to explain to this panel of super-scientists why the earth is going crazy and shiz - they do this big speech, most of it is scientific jargon, yadda yadda yadda, but you get the gist; the core of the earth has stopped spinning, so the protective atmosphere that surrounds it is going to collapse and all this bad stuff is gonna go down, y'all. So, ok, we get it. The scientists get it, the writers get it, we get it. Then, obviously for our benefit, the main guy goes: "Imagine this peach is the earth". And then lights the peach on fire. Right. First of all? No. And second of all, thats not even what would happen! They'd just spent the last, like, 10 minutes talking about super storms and earthquakes and how everything electronic was going to start failing. Then its like hmm, how to explain this to the idiots....Earth goes boom!
- There is a love story. I know. You cant have an end-of-the-world movie without a love story. Why save the world if you're just going to end up alone anyway, right?
I was going to write more, but then I realised how long this post has gotten - people are busy these days, uni, work and whatnot.
On the other hand, I'm not sure that anyone reads this anyway, so does it really matter? Well, yes, because theres a crappy Nicholas Cage movie starting in like 45 minutes and I don't want to miss it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
No, really. I think this is the last one. I think I'm done. For two reasons, mostly.
First of all, it hurts like a wanky tit basket, and second of all, I can't think of anything else I would want to get.
I mean, apart from Voldemort's face on the back of my shaved skull. But I think that's going to be pretty pricey, so I'll give it a miss.
Ok, so getting a tattoo is always fun no matter what, but this particular visit was pretty freaking awesome. My favourite parts:
1) When this guy came in, and he had a completely shaved head, and then this seedy seedy rats tail (I mean this thing was disgusting. It was like 10 inches long. And plaited!) and me and Gem loudly discussed what would be more fun, pulling it really hard, or just chopping it off
2) When this, like, 45 year old woman wearing a business suit and pearls came in, and you could tell everyone was thinking 'wow, most unlikely person to get a tattoo ever', and then I said it out loud
3) When I forgot how old I was
Let me explain the last one. Ok, so there is this guy that has done some of my tattoos called Brett, and every time I go there, he asks to see my ID, since, I dont know, I guess he doesn't believe I'm 18.
Anyway, so I told him what I wanted and then he looks at me and frowns and goes 'how old are you?'
And I go 'Umm...' and then PAUSED because I actually had forgotten.
Then I went 'Um, 18'
Then there was like 2 seconds of silence, and then I go 'NO, WAIT, 19!!'.
Then I did this crazy manic laugh, and say 'I forgot! I just had a birthday!'
(ok, and I know I said I was turning 18 again this year, AND I STILL AM, its just that I figured I better not lie to the man with the tattoo gun, since, you know, he really could tattoo Voldemort's face on me. Because, you know, I was just kidding when I said I wanted to get that)
Anyway, so by this point, pretty much everyone (including Gemma and Chate) are looking at me like I'm crazy, which I am, but come on, the look just isn't necessary.
Ok, on a completely different note, did anyone watch Home and Away last night? Can you answer me this question? IS THAT MARTHA'S REAL HAIR? Really? Really? I mean, yes, the headscarf was getting a little ridiculous since she had chemo like 2 years ago, so them trying to pretend she is still bald is pretty unrealistic.
But this? This...bowl cut?
I hope for her sake its a wig.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Like, just now.
I found out that Ellen, like me, hates wearing pants to bed, because when shes asleep, she, like me, tosses and turns and gets all tangled up. Then, like me, she wakes up in a panic:
HELP! HELP! SOMETHING HAS MY LEGS!!
It's just my pants.
So, now I have this theory that I'm actually NOT crazy.
Like, I write about all this crap on my blog that makes me seem crazy, but the truth is, the kinds of things that happen to me actually happen to EVERYONE - I'm just the only one who admits it.
Does admitting it make me crazy?
It probably wouldn't, except that I admit it all over the internet.
On a totally different note, I just found a photo of the impossible: somebody uglied up Edward Cullen.
Oh, alright. I'm being a tad harsh: if you scroll down so his face isn't visible, it's pretty hot.
I used to be a girl who blogged alot. Now I'm just a girl.
I think I'd like to be that first girl again.
So the reason I've been AWOL for so long...No, wait, stop.
I have to admit something: I don't know what AWOL means. I mean, I know the gist of it, like it means I've been missing for a while, right? I just don't know what it stands for. Which wouldn't be such a huge deal, except that my mum has told me what it stands for, at least 206,000 times.
No, I lied. She's probably only told me 10 times, if that.
Now I'm so annoyed at myself for not know what AWOL stands for, that I'm going to google it.
So here I go.
*is googling AWOL*
AWOL = Absent WithOut Leave.
Now, back to regular conversation.
I mean, what we were talking about before I went crazy on AWOL.
So, I've been away for a week or so. I was feeling kind of bad about not blogging, but my loving sister Catherine assured me there was no need, since 'nobody reads that crazy crap anyway.'
Well. Thankyou, Catherine, for putting my fears at ease. However, I beg to differ, because I know for sure there are at least two other people who read this blog. AND I know three whole people who have read my book. So what if one of them is my Mum?
Anyway, like I said in the heading, there is so much to tell you, but I'm going to start another post to do it, since this one's filled up with AWOL and my sister.