I'll Be Seeing You I've made a chocolate cake with green chocolate icing, ate twice the amount of icing used (making my stomach murkily complaining) and slept. Yes, glorious sleep!

I've had several thoughts about posting lately, and as I normally do, made up sentences I would write, but haven't felt like actually compiling an account. Instead I've done a bit of story-writing and plotting.. some strange plot bunnies have come my way and leave me preoccupied.

I stayed home from school today to rest. I haven't slept properly since trials. Turns out I did better in Modern than I thought. But apparently our reports are showing our exam marks, not our year mark (as only the Board of Studies can know, for some reason). Oh, and for Ancient, I got pulled aside by my teacher, I said that there were not excuses.. FYI, I did nearly as badly as one maths test I think I got 31% for. I'm told to do better for the HSC, and of course I will. I'll actually try.

My problem is that I don't need a high U.A.I for what I want to do - a BA. So there's no drive to aim for 98.15 like some people are doing, I just need to do 'alright'. I have no ambitious drive. And, as Harry Potter analogies are becoming my forte`, I would make a terrible Slytherin. I'm all very cunning and devious and crafty, but ambition? Pah. Hopeless am I. I mean, there are things I would desire to achieve, but I tell myself it's all fantasy anyway. I'm just little me, and all those illusions of grandeur need to be shoved aside so that I don't get big-pig-headed. I like pigs. I have several in my room. They make me smile.

And there's my old jealousy complex - you know how everyone else has what you wish you did... It's hard to think that my life will amount to anything when someone else knows exactly what they're going to (have to) do. I'll just plod along, in this state of semi-misery. I need some sort of hormonal drugs to make up for the balance in my brain.

I also dislike most of the male population at the moment. Well, specific people, and then it affects what I think of others.

It's hard to forgive someone that hurts themselves, and thus.. well, offends you too.

I think of my YBS boys eg. Jimmy and Dave and I suppose Rindi.. They're great. Easy to have fun and be relaxed and be myself with. See, guy friends like these don't expect anything of you, and you don't expect anything of them. I dunno. Comfortable friendship. It's one of those things I can say 'It just is'.

When I finish school I'll miss all my little people. Especially China Tour friends, because I feel so protective of them and keep threatening to bash up deputy principals and the like. I think we all know such actions are jests and my chicken arms would never be able to carry it out.

So I'm annoyed at other people and annoyed at myself. Grr.. miserable cycle.. grr. >.<

I've made myself an Adelaide 'mix tape' with all my fav tunes, and I wouldn't mind getting a cd of Gorecki, or Etta James, or James Dead/Rat Pack or maybe even Embrace. Hmm.. and it turns out that the Fray is some well-known and loved band. *shrug*

EXO camp is this weekend, and I don't mind that it will most likely rain. I must not forget to call James so we can have coffee... Should be fun. See, it's the simple things I look forward too.

We had our anticipated Pompeii Death Day party in ancient yesterday.. Meg made gingerbreadmen that had skeleton/dead body icing. And Rachael had some delicious cucumber sandwiches. You just don't know how great they are until you try them. On the other hand, I ate goat's cheese. Gross. You're fine to miss out on that if you've never tasted it. There were olives, too, but the way they sat in the middle of the table, untouched, reminded me of my raw oyster experience.

So hopefully I'll stop being annoyed at the majority of the population and do right by myself and have more than one coffee (did you know that coffee cures headaches? Wonderful stuff, International Roast) tomorrow. I'll get better over the weekend, I'm sure. Mum and I might even be going on a little holiday sometime soon. That'll be nice. 'Get out of Sydney, get out of Sydney' and whatever else Ms Rowe harped on about. Well, I can still escape to A Year Like None Other no matter where I am.

Apologies.  ¶ 7:49 PM