The Event
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See how good a friend you are! Take the friendtest and we'll see how well you really know me.The Scandalous
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Do read this. I have written really clever stuff. 09/01/2002 - 10/01/2002 | 10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 | 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 | 12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003 | 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003 | 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003 | 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 | 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 | 06/01/2003 - 07/01/2003 | 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 | 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 | 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 | 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 | 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 | 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 | 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 | 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 | 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 | 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 | 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 | 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 | 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 | 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 | 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 | 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 | 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 | 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 | 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 | 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 | 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 | Credits
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In the shade of the Graceful Birch
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The Scribble-Scribe
24th July: Have you read the latest Harry Potter? *sniffs and sobs*
The Current Royal Mood
The Guessing Game
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About Realisations I had decided my father didn't love me. You see, I had explicitly booked my father to drive me to buy my mooting suit on Friday, following which I would allow him to buy me dinner (since he's been constantly trying to bring me out for dinner... the old man does love my company... aww.). But earlier tonight, he had said he might be unable to drive me around for both since he figured that I would probably take so long to find my suit that there wouldn't be any time left for a nice, leisurely meal. And my mother suggested that she and I should go by ourselves to get my suit first. Naturally, I sulked. I hate shopping with my mother. She always says I'm too fat for everything and anyway she's always bad-tempered whenever I shop for clothes (you see why I have no dress sense... my mother prevents me from EVER finding fun shopping). Plus I didn't care for the long, endless bus-trip to town (since my mother refuses to take the cab... long story involving a feud between her and my aunt...). Long bus-trips make me feel sick, they give me awful headaches. So I scribbled the words "NASTY!!!" and "Boo hoo hoo" on the paper I happened to be scribbling on, gave sound to an indignant "HMPH!!", then stalked away. Then I changed my MSN nick to "My father does not love me at all" and added to it a crying smilie (ooh... an oxymoron). My true friends saw my nick and then came to comfort me, and they allowed me to moan and recount my sorry tale of failed kinship. Then my father came into the room and offered to take the afternoon off, if he wasn't too busy. So I coolly replied "OK". So I guess he is quite fond of me after all. Vans has chided me for being spoilt, expressed sympathy for my father, and reprimanded me for accusing that sweet, kind man. Well I guess it was bad of me to accuse him so unjustly. But then, you see, I had to accuse him to make him feel guilty so that he would offer to drive me and then redeem himself from being a nasty father. So I guess that the moral of this story is that we have to be cruel to be kind. P.S. Vans expressed pity for my future husband. Personally, I'm a bit sorry for him too but I guess it will be alright since he'll have me after all. Life has its funny way of compensating you for its bad bits with plenty of good. hpdeskjette stamped at 7:16 AM with love + + + |