Braaaaaains.

30-05-2014 Friday

I’ve decided to start working on the sequel to my Missing Pages. The Missing Pages is being read by some people to see if there’s anything that needs changing. I liked writing it so much that I decided to work on a second. I might even like it so much that I decide writing a third and a fourth. Who knows!? Even if they don’t get published ever, it’s still good fun and good practise.
I think the hardest thing to do is to find a good title. I’ve written some lyrics before, and I always get stuck on a title. Whereas sometimes it’s okay to name the song after the chorus, I think that with certain lyrics it’s just a sign of a lack of creativity. Sometimes a title should really add something. Maybe it should be a question answered in the lyrics, or maybe it should be a one-word summary.
How do other writers do this? Do they come up with the title afterwards? It would be more logical. Only afterwards you know what the story is about. Then again, coming up with one beforehand might just boost creativity a little or give you a hint as what to write about. When I write I start off with some sort of vague idea and things get clearer on my way to the end of what I was writing about. I don’t really start with a plan or some incredibly well thought through concept. This kind of means that I am somewhat of a delete freak.
Although I really love writing, I know that it is time consuming and sometimes really frustrating. Sometimes I just sit behind my computer, staring at the screen, wanting to write, but nothing comes out. What a weird machine that brain is. Wanting to write, but not giving anything to write about. Sometimes I wonder if the wires in my brain are correctly connected and working properly, because at times it seems as if different parts of my brains just don’t communicate. One part goes,

‘Hey, let’s sit down and write! I really feel like writing!’

And then another part, totally confused, goes,

‘What are we sitting down for?’

And yet another part, who has absolutely no clue what the other parts were going on about,

‘Oh, look, a screen and some buttons. I wonder which game we’re going to play.’

There’s absolutely no communication whatsoever between various brain cells. I hope I’m not the only one who experiences this every now and again. I won’t be here this weekend, because I’m going to have a sleep over at Grandma’s as my parents want to have a weekend all to themselves … lucky me.

See me after the weekend. 

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Everybody Wants To Be Naked And Famous

27-05-2014 Tuesday

This is Arthur speaking to you live from Fort Didymus. The enemy has retreated to her own house and is nowhere to be seen. I think we’ve won this round. We’ll have to see what’s going to happen next. Maybe she’s in there plotting a new attack as I speak. Who knows!? She could be planning a way to overthrow the world and I, Brave Sir Didymus am the only one standing in between her and the world. Okay, me, and Mum, and Dad, and Cheddar
Let me clarify this a little. I told you that I was locked up in my room, because of all the homework and tests we’ve got coming and I do want to pass this year. As I have been quite occupied with WordPress, or rather I was quite occupied with it, I didn’t spend as much time on school as I should have. It’s not that things are going terribly wrong; it’s just that I want to make sure I know stuff so that I don’t get into trouble next year. You know what teachers are like, they are always saying things like,’ Ohw, this is what you studied last year, so let’s not talk about it now and move on to more difficult matters.’ And then those matters require that you know everything you studied the year before.
Being locked up in my room, sitting behind my desk, means that I see everything that Unice does if she has her curtains open – which is hardly ever. Today was one of those days she decided to open the curtains. I have experienced why it is that she keeps the curtains clothes and why I rather see she kept them closed for ever and ever. I think I have found out why she pops her head through the curtains every now and again. It’s not only to see what everybody is doing; it’s to check if nobody’s watching her. I think, after so many weeks, she thought the coast was clear. Unice likes to walk around the house butt-naked!
So there I was, trying my best to concentrate on my maths when all of a sudden I see Unice dance around the house in the altogether holding a feather duster in her hand pretending to clean. It was impossible for me to not look even though it hurt my eyes. I believe she was singing, too. The whole thing ended quite abruptly when she saw me sitting behind my desk with open mouth and big glassy eyes. Never have I seen anybody close curtains so quickly. About ten minutes later I saw her rushing out of her house, staring at me and making a beeline for our door. This meant trouble.
She rang the bell and even the way she rang it you could feel her anger. I have no idea why she should be angry, because I don’t think I did anything wrong here. I was just doing my homework when she put on this show. I heard her scream and shout, and rant and rave, and I believe the whole neighbourhood now knows Unice dances around the house naked. For weeks she’s been trying to keep this a secret, acting all weird with her curtains and all, and in not even one minute she notifies the whole street like this. Mum tried her best to calm Unice down. I opened the door a little bit to see if I could hear anything, but Mum spoke to soft and Unice spoke to fast. After some five or ten minutes Unice walked back to her house, looking over her shoulder and pointing her finger at me. I have no idea what she meant by that, so I pointed back at her. Then she pretended she was coming back and I quickly closed the curtains – I wasn’t as fast as Unice was, though.
Mum came into my room to ask me what had happened. I told her my side of the story and I think she believed me. I have no idea what Unice told Mum. At the end Mum said it might be best to keep my curtains closed or maybe move my desk someplace else. The only problem is, there is no other convenient place for my desk. It’s not like I’ve got a room the size of a planet. I can’t complain, but there’s not much room to move things like beds, desks or cupboards. I decided to keep my curtains closed and to just look through them every fifteen minutes or so. In about a month I will open them, dance around my room naked with an egg whisk in my hand and make sure Unice sees me.

See me tomorrow.  

Don’t Talk To Me About Life

26-05-2014 Monday

Today I was confronted with a story that really got me thinking. It was a hypothetical situation and I had to make a decision. It’s still bugging me and I can’t really say what I would do in such a situation. Well, I can, but you know what it’s like. When you’re watching the news and you hear about a robbery and you see somebody pointing a gun at a storeowner or an employee. People always say things like,’ Yeah, I would have done this and that (usually accompanied by some bad language and violent movements and gestures), if I were him.’ While in real life they’d probably do something totally different: sit in a corner and cry. Anyways, I was told this story (well, more or less, I’m telling you what I remembered).
There you are, in a hospital, when a fire breaks out. In one room there’s an old man attached to some machines and in the opposite room there are six teenagers who are also attached to some machines. They need those machines to stay alive and get well again. Due to the fire their lives are in danger. At this moment the fire is threatening the lives of the six teenagers and the old man is safe. By throwing a switch you can rescue the six teenagers but the old man will die in the fire. If you don’t throw the switch the six youngsters will die in the fire. What will you do?
Mr Owen brought this up during English class and we were supposed to discuss it in groups. Somebody once came up with the idea that teamwork would be a neat idea. ‘I am bored of teaching, you know what, I’ll just put them in group and let them figure things out themselves, that’ll teach ‘em,’ he/she must have thought. Well, I think it stinks. Teamwork irritates the (bad word) out of me. Also, for some reason each and every kid in class always says it ended up in the worst group. How can everybody be in the worst group? And the best part is that they always say things like,’ I’m in the worst group, because I am doing all the work and nobody else does anything!’ So, we’re all in the worst group and that’s only because we all seem to be working harder than the other group members.
Back to the story. Of course it’s a hypothetical situation. Still, it got me thinking. The old man has as much right to live as the six teenagers. Who am I to judge their lives? I know nothing about these people and there I am, deciding who gets to live and who gets to die. God has got a hell of a job and I figured that I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. In the end I also decided not to throw the switch. I figured that if the switch was like that, somebody put it that way for a reason and who am I to interfere with fate, karma, God’s plan, or just bad luck?
My group members nearly got into a fight over this, shouting and screaming their ideas and thoughts. Mr Owen had to jump in to keep two kids from hitting each other. Apparently one of them had a granddad who was in hospital and he wouldn’t want his grandpa to die and then one of the kids said something about being egoistic, egocentric and something about mothers. I think that’s when the kid snapped. I just sat back and enjoyed the show. Mr Owen jumped in and clamed them down. Then he asked for my opinion,’ Arthur, whose life or lives do you think we should save?’ I stared him deeply into his deep dark eyes and in a very monotone voice I said,’ Life? Don’t talk to me about life*.’ Which confused him a little. He shook his head and walked away.
Evelyn was in another group and they were dead silent. They were all staring at each other blankly, waiting for somebody to speak its mind. Mr Owen tried his best to get them to talk, but they all refused. In the end they started discussing the situation as if the old man was Mr Owen himself. They said in that case the decision would have been a lot easier. Luckily Mr Owen didn’t hear it. As you can see, teamwork is not only hell on earth for us kids; even teachers can’t deal with it. Luckily the year is nearly done. I’m looking forward to my holidays even though I have no idea what we’re going to do or where we’re going to go. Everybody who’s got big plans, please, raise your hand and see me tomorrow. 

 

*Marvin the Paranoid Android – the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. 

Towel Day

25-05-2014 Sunday – towel day

Weekend came and passed me by without a warning. I locked myself up inside my room for two days to get some schoolwork done. Mum took care of the dog and I only came out of my room for the absolute necessary things like having a shower, eating, drinking and something with toilets. I tried to completely isolate myself from the outside world. Basically my only entertainment was Unice, as I can see her house from my bedroom window when sitting at my desk. Let me tell you this, at one point I started looking forward to seeing her face popping up from behind her curtains. She even noticed me sometimes and I just smiled and waved.
Though Unice has given up looking out of the window every 15 minutes, she is still in the habit of looking outside every now and again. On average it’s two times every hour and she still has a system. As I locked myself up for two days, I noticed that she does it at the exact same time each day. This woman must have a schedule on her fridge. I even suspect her of setting an alarm clock to tell her it’s time to check up on the neighbours. It’s actually kind of creepy. I’ll probably be spending a lot of time behind my desk coming weeks. I have been thinking of good ways of messing about with her a little, but something I can’t really into any trouble for; something totally and completely harmless but still a little annoying. You know, like putting the volume of the stereo up a bit just so that it’s annoying, but not really something anybody can complain about, but in this case it had nothing to do with stereos.
By the way, for those of you out there who don’t know the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (you should be ashamed of yourselves!); today was towel day to commemorate Douglas Adams. I sat on my towel all day. Douglas was right, I guess, towels are useful things and one can never go without one. Actually, one should never leave home without it. Maybe I’m going to take a towel to school tomorrow and carry it around in plain sight; this will probably confuse a lot of people.
So, I decided to mess with her a little and as it was towel day and I was sitting on my towel the first thing I did was wrap the towel I was sitting on, on my head as if I had just come out of the shower and I wrapped larger towel loosely around me covering my clothes and holding it up with one hand. When it was time for her to look out of her window I was standing in front of mine holding up that towel with my hand. When she looked up and noticed me I waved at her with the hand holding my towel. You should have seen her face as the towel dropped to the floor and she had expected to see me in the altogether. She was not amused. I was.
Her biggest problem is that she can’t complain to Mum about it. If she were to come over and complain Mum would surely ask Unice what she’s looking at my window for. I hope to think of more of these little things this week just to brighten up my day a little. By the way, has anybody got any holiday plans? I am still waiting for Mum and Dad to come up with some good plans. I would love to go abroad and preferably without Grandma. Last year we took Grandma with us on holiday to France. A week in France with Grandma is not funny. Especially when she thinks she can speak French while actually all she does is just speak English with a French accent. At one point Dad asked the girl at the reception (who spoke a little bit of English) to answer Grandma’s questions in French with an English accent. I wish I had had a camera then.

Anyways. Time to go. See me tomorrow. 

I’d Like One Google, Please!

21-05-2014 Wednesday

Gluestickmum reminded me of the fact that I am terrible at remembering names. I gave her the advice that I read in a book (or cheap ol’ magazine at the dentist). According to that article or book when we are confronted with new people we are so busy with introducing ourselves that we don’t pay a lot of attention to the other person’s name even though we think we do, our brains seem to think differently. Don’t ask me the details about this, because I am not a brainologist. Therefore we should always sort of repeat the other person’s name out loud. You could for instance check with the other person if you heard his/her name correctly, like ‘John, right?’ This will often help you remember the name. It helped me a little bit.
It also reminded me of the book that Darren Brown wrote (if you don’t know who he is, go check him out). In his book he talks about mnemonics. If I remember correctly these are ancient methods of remembering stuff in easy ways. For instance, let’s say you have to remember your grocery list. With all the gadgets we have nowadays, who needs his brains!? We’ve got external braindrives like mobile phones, tablets, and so on. But let’s just assume you would really have to memorize a grocery list.
According to these ancient methods described by Mr Brown all we have to do is visualize a room, walk through it and put all the items in certain spots in the room as you pass them. So you enter the room and the doorknob is a cucumber, on the left there’s a clothing peg with some bananas on it, you walk passed the couch and there’s a bag of crisps on it, etc. The only problem I had was that I always got lost in my room and the room – for some strange reason – always seemed to have changed by the time I got to the store. I don’t think Google maps will be able to solve this problem for me. Maybe if they had taught me this at primary school, it might have had a better chance of being successful. Why, if these things are really so great, aren’t they taught at schools? Our teachers give us these long lists of words to study, but often forget to teach us the different ways of doing this.
A lot of teachers nowadays think we’ve got an advantage to kids before the Internet era, because we can Google anything. Kids in those days had to travel miles and miles on a bike with no saddle to a library where they were to go look for the right book, that had the right information and this could take up hours and hours. I don’t know if Google is really much of an improvement. We are simply overwhelmed with websites full of information, but who tells us which website really has the correct information? And if we can’t spell correctly, we never find the correct website. Well, luckily Google has solved that problem mostly by giving us suggestions. But a simple search leads to tons of sites and I never know which one to choose. Wikipedia seems to be the most favourite site amongst my classmates. It’s like the secondary school bible that holds the answers to life, the universe, and everything.  That is if I have to believe my classmates. I’d rather read a good book.
Ohw, there’s one thing I really have to share here. Sometimes when we’re doing a project our teacher asks us to give a list of our sources. You wouldn’t believe how many of my classmates still think that Google is the source, the only source, and nothing but the source. No matter how often our teachers explain this, they can’t seem to come to terms with the fact that Google is a search engine and not the source of all information in the stupid project that they handed in. Imagine writing down in the source list ‘the library’. Facepalm!

See me tomorrow. 

Don’t Trust The Books (True Lies)

Tuesday 20-05-2014

After a whole lot of writing, reading, rewriting, rereading, and so on I’ve sent my work to my Dutch friend who is a teacher of English. He’s going to check it for and he’s got an ex-colleague who is also going to read it and he just told me that his ex-mother-in-law is British and also willing to proofread it. I’m on the top of the world (the Carpenters!).
Talking about being on top the world, while I was rereading my work I came across the story of Evelyn who in her first year at this school still believed the world was flat. Which got me thinking a little. Then I started looking it up and turned out there’s even a society called ‘The Flat Earth Society’. They still believe and try to find proof that this world is flat and that it’s some sort of conspiracy of government and the likes to trick us into believing the world is round. This society even has a map of a flat world (round like a record) in which the edges are more or less ice and snow. I found it quite inspiring and so I came up with some lyrics in which a group of people have sailed to the edge. 

Southern Pole of Cold

The world isn’t round
She is flat like a pancake
If you sail towards the edge
You are bound to fall off

The globes and the maps
They are obviously all fake
If you sail towards the end
You are bound to fall off

Bound to fall off

The scientists claim
That they know what they know
But we’re here near the end
And are about to fall off

I think we have found out
There’s a world down below
If we get any closer
We’re bound to fall off 

Bound to fall off 

Here Hell’s frozen over
There’s nothing here but ice
It’s the edge of the world
And we’re bound to fall off

Don’t trust the books now
They are filled with true lies
Behold the end of the world
And we are bound to fall off

Bound to fall off

One day I hope to be able to put some music to my lyrics. I’ve got some ideas, but they’re just not good enough yet. Who knows, maybe I’ll be a famous rock star one day. I won’t forget about you, you’ll be on the guest list and we’ll hang out backstage drinking expensive orange juice and eating expensive sandwiches. See me tomorrow.  

Short Shirts and Shorter Skirts

19-05-2014 Monday

You can tell summer is a coming just by the way everybody at school behaves. I’m not even going to go into the way people start dressing. Well, actually I am and I’ll do it now, just to get it out of my system. Is it me or are skirts and shirts getting smaller each year? Let’s make it absolutely clear that I am not interested in seeing each and every girl’s belly button. For your information, some girls would like to have shown their belly buttons, but they’re hidden under a couple of layers of belly rolls. Which, I can assure you, is not always a pretty sight to see. It’s also kind of silly that girls come to school wearing their short skirts and minipants, but all day long you see them pulling them down a little bit to cover a little more leg (actually I mean behind). If you didn’t want your butt to show, you shouldn’t have worn those hot pants to school. Sometimes I wonder if these girls come from poor families and that their parents bought those clothes years ago so they could grow into them, not knowing these girls would grow a little bigger than they had expected.
But … I wanted to talk about they way they act now that summer is just around the corner. What I find interesting is that boys and girls (in no particular order) who have been in a relationship for some time this year, suddenly end their relationships. Most of the time it’s just out of the blue; as if girls saying,’ You know, you’re cute and all, but summer’s a coming and there’ll be hotter guys at the beach that I would like to watch playing football in their swimming trunks.’ Of course they don’t say this to the guys they break up with. More or less the same thing goes for the guys. This basically means a lot of relationships falling apart, crying girls (and sometimes even boys), but I’m sure that some of them are tears of happiness, because secretly they’re already looking forward to whom they’re going to hang out with all summer.
And then, as you’ll understand, spring is in the air; blue skies, sun, flowers in bloom, birds chirping … new relationships start. For some reason that geeky guy you always thought was quite average suddenly looks incredibly handsome in his skinny jeans. The girl that looked so chubby in her winter outfit, suddenly looks mighty fine in her summer dress and the sun in her eyes. I think you can now see this endless circle, because next year, it’s going to be the same thing all over again. They’ll break up and find somebody else. I for one refuse to take part in this madness. Luckily for me Evelyn agrees with me on this.
Today we sat in the canteen together watching two couples break up together. They cried tears like you would not believe. One girl walked away crying and shouting things like,’ How could you! We were such a great team!’ Before you start saying ,’Aaaahw, that poor girl. How could he!? That (bad word).’ That same girl was seen kissing two other guys after school and I don’t mean a small pecker on the cheek. One of those guys was her ex-boyfriend’s best friend. Please note that I used the word ‘was’! I don’t want to have a best friend, because they always steal your girlfriend.
This is spring for you. Next year it will be the same thing, only the skirts and shirts will be shorter still. The year after same thing and at this rate in about five years girls will probably be coming to school in their undies. Think of all the industries that will go bankrupt. If we’re not doing it for the girls, let’s do it for the economy. Save this world by making girls wear proper shorts to school! I think I could run for president with ideas like these. See me tomorrow.  

Rope-String Guitar

18-05-2014 Sunday

The downside of not having been able to do my homework because of the computer cable is that I had to catch up with all of that work today. The year is coming to an end, teachers are cramming too much work in too little time and you know why!? They are always telling us we should learn to plan our homework, and what are they bad at themselves!? Right, planning stuff. So, the end of the year is near and suddenly they find out that they are actually behind on their schedule and that we will just have to work a little hard these last couple of weeks. They are running behind, so we have to work harder. What’s wrong with this world!?
I went round Mr Bent’s this afternoon. I hadn’t seen him for quite some time and I was stuck on my history homework and if there’s anybody in this whole wide street who knows anything about history it’s Mr Bent. True, Unice knows a lot about history, too, but I was not really interested in the dinosaur days and how she survived the meteor as one of the few species. No, I needed Mr Bent’s knowledge on the Dark Ages. I am ashamed to say that when I was in primary school I thought they called it the dark ages because the sun just didn’t come up for a long time. All those years I wondered what I would have done if I were to wake up one day, looked out of my window and found that the sun wasn’t there anymore.
Mr Bent’s house looked great. His girlfriend, Xemene, has really changed him for the better. He looks healthier and younger, too. His books are organised in a fashionable way, his knickknacks and bric-a-bracs from countries all over the world are put into glass displays and all. He even bought a new couch. Though I kind of miss the old one, even though there was absolutely no way of getting out of it again once you sat down. His new couch looks all modern and even smelled new a little. It did look a little like the old one. Mr Bent wanted the same brownish colour and more or less the same fabric and design. He likes change just as much as I do. It’s okay if you change things, just as long as it looks as much as possible like what it used to be.
He helped me out a lot. Okay, I’ll be honest. Mr Bent did my history homework while I was strumming on an old guitar he had lying about. He said that he once knew how to play and that he got sort of inspired when he heard I was learning to play the guitar. That’s when he started digging up some of his old guitars and this was the best one he could find. He said he had changed the strings just this morning and that it was supposed to be sounding right as rain. I couldn’t help noticing that the strings just sounded and felt like pieces of rope and no matter how I tried (it took me half an hour just to get it tuned properly) I just couldn’t make it sound like a real steel string. After Mr Bent had finished my homework, he picked up the guitar and played a song. It was terrible! We laughed really hard about it and called it a ‘rope-string guitar’. I told him could borrow mine while I was at school should he feel like playing.
For some reason his house – even now it’s clean and organised – feels much more like home than my own house. It’s as if his house just breathes and lives and makes you feel welcome whoever you are. Which is kind of weird, because up till his girlfriend came into his life he hardly ever had any visitors and he was quite the recluse. Xemene often comes to visit him and I believe that sometimes she even brings one or two of her friends. He says that Xemene was the best thing that has ever happened to him, aside from meeting me of course.
Most of my homework is finished, my computer cable is still in one piece and if I have to believe Dad my chances of not dying a virgin have gotten smaller. Mum slapped him when he made that remark, but Dad probably thinks it was worth it. I’m off to bed. Sleep tight everybody. See me tomorrow.  

My Dog Ate My Computer

17-05-2014 Saturday

Sorry I wasn’t here for a couple of days. Normally I don’t like to put the blame on anybody else but me, but this time I am putting the blame on two others. First of all I’m blaming my dog and secondly I’m blaming Dad. Not only am I blaming them I have also found them guilty of all charges. Cheddar is guilty of chewing on the computer cable, and Dad is guilty of being a lousy handyman. Both didn’t get any penalties, because I haven’t got anything to say in this household.
So, Cheddar had chewed through one of my computer cables and Dad, being the handyman he is, said he had fixed the cable. Don’t ask me how he fixed, for all I know he used superglue. I thought my computer was working just fine after Dad had fixed it Wednesday evening. There I was, just typing my own business, when all of a sudden I smelt something weird and it wasn’t one of Cheddar’s infamous farts (not mine either). Something was burning. When I looked at the cable it was smouldering. I pulled the cable out of the socket quickly. The entire cable was hot like hell. Luckily I didn’t burn my hands, because I threw it away in time.
As it lay there in the corner of my room, I waited a couple of minutes to let the cable cool down and then I went downstairs with it. Dad was reading his evening paper when I came into the room and I threw the cable on the table in front of him, and I said,

’ Dad, have you any idea what this is?’

He says in his most innocent voice,

’ Well, from over here it looks like that computer cable I fixed. Why?’

            ‘ It nearly killed me, Dad! It could have killed all of us!’

            ‘ Well, aren’t we lucky you killed it first!’

            ‘ Dad, it nearly set the whole house on fire!’

            ‘ Ah, well, didn’t Mum and I teach you not to play with fire?’

This is where I was getting a little irritated or agitated (what’s the difference? I don’t know).

‘ Dad, this is no time for jokes. This cable nearly caught fire, I nearly burnt my hands, and we could have died in a household accident. All because of you, Dad!’ 

Dad didn’t really seem impressed with my small tantrum.

‘ Well, we wouldn’t want you to die a virgin now, do we? Let’s have a look at that cable.’

Dad picked up the cable, looked at it and said in the same emotionless voice he’d been using the whole time. Steam was coming out of my ears by then and I felt just like that computer cable did about half an hour before that.

‘ I see what the problem is. This cable nearly caught fire. We should get you a new one, because this one isn’t going to work anymore.’

‘ Thanks, Dad. Sherlock Holmes would have been proud of you.’

That’s when I stampeded away, back to my room and I think Dad continued reading his paper. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been snickering behind his paper. When will it get through to him that he’s just not as handy as he thinks he is? I bet that he’ll just do the same thing next time Cheddar bites through a cable. Hopefully it’ll be the TV’s cable, because then Dad will maybe understand what I was going through.
As you undoubtedly have figured out, I wasn’t able to use my computer, at least not until today. Today my parents finally found the time to buy a new cable for me. Three days without a computer isn’t that bad, and it was also a good excuse to not do a lot for school. Each time a teacher asked me after my homework, I smiled and said,’ The dog ate my computer.’ I had Mum write a note for me to show the teachers if they didn’t believe me. Each time I showed it to my teachers, my smile turned into a grin; there wasn’t anything they could say or do about it. Thanks Dad!

See me tomorrow 

Video Killed The Radio Star

13-05-2014 Tuesday

 Evelyn said that her parents thought I was sweet, a bit gullible, but sweet. I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not. At least they didn’t hate me or throw me out of the house, so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. Hopefully I’ll never have to go through this again; meeting the parents for the first time and I hope the second time I won’t be so nervous. I don’t even want to think about her parents meeting mine … crud, I already did.
I asked Mum yesterday if Evelyn and I could go to the cinema this weekend. Evelyn’s Dad was willing to take us there and pick us up. Mum said she would think about it. Then I asked Dad and he told me I had to ask Mum. When I told him that she said she would think about it, he said,’ In that case, don’t get your hopes up.’ I offered to help Mum with her household chores if she’d let me go. Suddenly Mum turned full magician on me by conjuring up a long list of household chores that need to be done. It was as if she had been prepared. I felt like I was being had.
Today I helped out with so many things, that I even didn’t have time for homework. It’s half past eleven at this very moment and I still have to it. First I am going to finish writing this and then I am going to start studying and I need to finish my American History project this week. Actually it should have been finished earlier, but because I had been ill the teacher gave me some extra time. You could give us kids 64 years to do a project in, we would still wait till the last day to get it done.
Talking about school, it’s been very quiet on the Mr Owen and Mrs … sorry, Ms Williams front. I know that Ms Williams is now officially divorced, but it doesn’t seem like she and Mr Owen are in some sort of relationship. Besides that I think I saw her winking to some pupils again today or maybe she had something ‘stuck in her eye’. I said it before and I’ll say it again, this woman must have some pretty awesome eyes, because I’ve never seen anybody in my entire life who has had so many flies caught in her eye. It is most definitely not her eyelashes falling out, if it were, she’d now have bald eyes. Is there a word for that, when your eyelashes have fallen out completely? No hair on you head is bald. No more eyelashes is called … ? I have no idea. If you know, please let me know. I’ll read it in the morrow. Good night and see me tomorrow.