The Real Deal

18-03-2014 Tuesday

Something today got me thinking today about words like ‘real’ and ‘genuine’ and ‘best’ and such. Like, when you buy food and it says on the package,’ Made with real milk!’ That makes me think. Is just ‘milk’ not good enough? Is there something like ‘fake milk’? Have I been drinking the wrong kind of milk my entire life? Who’s doing this to us? Who is being so cruel that they’re selling us milk that isn’t even real milk!? And what is that milk made of then? Whom can we sue for this!? Why wasn’t I told about this sooner!? Have you never wondered about this? I hadn’t, up till today. All these questions were going through my head. Made with ‘real milk’. I am waiting to find a product that advertises with something like,’ Made with real artificial milk!’ Or,’ Now even more real!’ 
During dinner I asked Dad if we were having ‘genuine lettuce’ and if he could prove it was the real deal. He looked at me in a funny way and said,’ Who (nasty word) cares if this is ‘genuine lettuce’!? Lettuce is lettuce. It looks like lettuce, it tastes like lettuce, so it must be lettuce. Now shhh and just eat it!’ Which isn’t much of an answer, really. I looked at Mum and she just shrugged and said,’ Listen to your father,’ then she took another bite of what Dad said is ‘real lettuce’. What if I was eating the wrong kind of lettuce? What if this was fake lettuce and Mum and Dad don’t know it? Is this what lettuce should really taste like? How does Dad know what ‘real’ lettuce tastes like?
See, that’s another one of those problems. Say you want to have Toad In The Hole for dinner. You open up one of the cookbooks and it says,’ The Real Toad In The Hole’ or something like that. It makes me wonder if all the other cookbooks have it wrong when they say ‘Toad In The Hole The Original’ even though the recipe differs on many ingredients with other cookbooks. Which of these recipes should I believe? What is Toad In The Hole supposed to taste like? How do I know if I’m not being conned by manufacturers into eating something that is not really the real thing? They’re not allowed to – or at least shouldn’t be allowed to – lie through their teeth like that.
All this thinking about ‘real’ and ‘genuine’ lead to another word I found and still find quite frustrating: ‘best’. Often when walking through town we pass restaurants advertising their food with things like ‘The Best Burger in Town’. The ‘best burger’! Says who!? I would like to be the judge of that, please. I think your burgers stink! There are tens of restaurants claiming to sell the best burger or the best of something. How can they all sell ‘the best’!? They’re not selling the same burgers, that’s for sure. And they don’t have the same cooks. Has anybody done any research on who sells the best of what? And how do those people doing the research know what burgers are supposed to taste like? I am one confused teenager. So many questions, so little answers.
I’m sorry, dear readers, that I haven’t said anything about my life today, but I was and still am, I bit frustrated by these questions. It’s like my entire life people have been and will be lying to me about these things just to sell me their wares. They’re making things up for personal profit and I think that should be against the law and there should be people investigating these matters. I am in favour of changing these restaurant signs into things like,’ We Sell Burgers, You Be The Judge!’ or something more honest anyways. I would love to hear your ideas on this. See me tomorrow. 

Pretty Please

Grandma called to see if we knew what had happened to her TV-set. She said there was some sort of plastic dinosaur stuck in the screen. Mum told her that some kids at her party were fighting over who got to play with it and then one of them decided it was better if no one had the dinosaur at all and threw it away. Grandma said something about having no recollection of inviting kids to her party, let alone dinosaurs. She was also wondering why the lights weren’t working anymore and why one of the chairs had a leg missing and where her bed sheets had gone to. That’s when Mum decided to go over and have a talk about the party with Grandma. I was not allowed to come not even if I had wanted it really bad.
When Dad came home and found Mum was gone he decided it was his turn to cook. I begged him, please, and pretty please, and pretty please with cream and a cherry on top, and added some chocolate sprinkles too, just so he would change his mind and not cook but to just go out and get some fish ‘n’ chips, but alas. I know that fish ‘n’ chips is not part of my diet and is actually quite bad for me, but Dad’s cooking would be bad for my taste buds not to mention the fact it would be hazardous to my life and we all know: without life no diet; and man, I loooooove this diet. He started cooking anyways, but gave up when the chicken had burnt and the saltshaker dropped into the boiling water with the potatoes in it (okay, that was my bad). Fish ‘n’ chips it was.
Mum came home at eight. She had had dinner at Grandma’s and she had helped clean up the last bits. Grandma does not seem to remember an awful lot about the party. Nobody, so far, has said anything about a divorce or signing divorce papers. It’s not clear if Nora and Jonesy remember anything at all and what they remember? I would gladly fill in the blanks and spice the story up a little if it would help them make a decision that would be better for everybody. I did offer Mum of providing my services to make this a better world for us and them and told her I was very cheap, but she declined. I think it won’t be wise to call up Jonesy and tell him the story anyways as some sort of . I’ll leave it for the time being. 
Talking about relationships. I know of one relationship that is working out pretty well. Evelyn and I are really serious at the moment, though we still haven’t properly kissed. We are walking around hand in hand, we eat at the same table, and Evelyn said she had eternalized our love in one of the bathroom stalls. School rule amongst pupils is that if it’s written down in a bathroom stall, it’s a fact. Spelling and grammar mistakes are permitted provided that the sentence is still clear to all and sundry. So there you have it. The only problem is telling Mum and Dad about my love life. I have no idea what their reaction would be. Our family has never had to deal with such a situation before. I think I’ll practise my story on Cheddar. I’ll do that … now. See me tomorrow.


The Party Ain’t Over Till The Fat Lady Sings

I didn’t remember buying so many alcoholic drinks from Tesco’s. Grandma said that she had gone round the liquor store today, because she thought some people might want a little bit of “Grandma’s Coughing Medicine”. She used her fingers to make inverted comma signs. Grownups have a weird way of talking sometimes. When they don’t want us to understand them they say something completely understandable to everybody but just use inverted commas to make it look like they’re using code while at the same time giving away the whole idea of code language. They should leave these things to the experts: teenagers.
Anyways, here are some of the things that went on last night. Nora – my too-posh-for-words aunt – was caught flirting or maybe even kissing another man, nobody knows the truth about this. Jonesy – her husband, Mum’s brother, my uncle – didn’t give a flying hoop as he was dancing on Grandma’s table and about to do some sort of striptease shouting,’ All the single ladies!’. Needless to say both Nora and Jonesy were both intoxicated. Some of the strangers were playing baseball out on the lawn. I believe they were using light bulbs for balls. One chair was missing a leg at the end of the evening.
I’m not saying what was going on upstairs in the bedroom, but loud noises were heard and different old, and bold men were seen leaving the room with a smile on their faces when I went up to see what all the noise was, one of the old geezers grabbed me by my cheeks, said I was a lovely kid and that everything was okay, then he sent me back down again. Grandma wasn’t seen for over an hour, and suddenly showed up from out of nowhere. She said her legs were sore and had to sit down for a while with a bottle of whisky. I think she passed out at some point, because we found her sitting in the same chair with an empty bottle this afternoon. She said she was a bit sore, but didn’t really understand why. Don’t ask me, I do not know.
Some kids were fighting over some toys. One ended up in the TV-set. Grandma doesn’t know about it yet, because we have turned it around for the time being. Mum said Grandma wouldn’t be using the TV today anyways as she had a major hangover. Other than all that, I guess the party went as planned. I took care of the drinks, Mum was in charge of the food, Dad was … I dunno … but he did look quite content in his chair the whole evening. At about 12.30 a.m. everybody was gone, including us. I don’t know if they all got home and I don’t care. I wonder what Nora and Jonesy remembered this morning. For Jonesy’s sake I hope they’re getting the divorce papers signed tomorrow.
Mum and I had a lot of cleaning up to do today at Grandma’s. As I said, we found Grandma in the same chair with the same bottle – only empty – being sore and having a hangover. We cleaned her up first. The lawn was full of glass. You could literally eat off of the floor. As far as I could see more food had reached the floor than the guest’s stomachs. Some of the food had seen both the guest’s stomachs and the floor. The toilet was a big mess, but I’m not going to go into any details about the excrements artist. Grandma’s bedroom seemed quite okay, except for the bed sheets that had weird stains on it and felt kind of sticky. I didn’t touch them and Mum tried throwing them on the floor immediately but part of it stuck to her hand. She washed it for at least ten minutes with different kinds of soap (her hand, not the sheets). There were more things to be done, but I think you get the picture.
After five hours of cleaning, we decided the house was clean enough for us to leave. We put grandma to bed, closed the door behind us and we’ll probably check up on everything tomorrow. I’m glad her birthday is only once a year. Next year if she forgets about it, we’ll forget about it, too.

See me tomorrow.

Party People

15-03-2014 Saturday

Grandma should buy a bigger house. She might just have to because I don’t think much is left standing after last night’s party. Some people might just be heading straight for a divorce and Grandma, if she remembers anything at all, will probably be heading for a nervous breakdown, unless she continues drinking for the rest of her life to calm her nerves and to forget more than she already does. All in all, as a spectator of the events, it was quite amusing up to a certain point, then things got out of hand and I guess the aftermath is about to start. I’ll have to keep it short, because Mum and I are about to go over to Grandma to have a look at the damage and to help clean up the mess.
When we arrived yesterday afternoon nothing was the matter. Mum, Dad, Grandma and I were getting things ready for the guests. First people arrived at four-ish. Slowly but steady more people arrived and I started wondering who they all were and whence they had come. There weren’t enough seats and there weren’t enough parking lots outside and we fell short of party hats, but I don’t think many people thought that was of a big concern. The only things there was plenty of were food and beverages (mostly alcoholic). For some reason people who drink a little don’t mind standing so much anymore. At least up to the point when they are to drunk to stand. In those cases any part of the floor would do just fine.
Mum had prepared soup, sandwiches, and a something that has a French name (I believe it had something to do with horses, but I’m not sure). Everybody was allowed to help themselves and I believe most of it was gone within ten minutes. I wonder if people even tasted what they were eating or whether they were just cramming it down their gullet without biting or chewing on anything. They looked like starving pigs in a sty who had just been given their first meal since weeks.
After dinner it was still mostly ‘beer and skittles’ as Dad remarked. Even though I didn’t know most of the people present they seemed to know each other. While we were in  the kitchen pouring drinks and making new ‘horse-things’ Mum said most of the people present were friends of Grandma’s and she didn’t know them either. As a matter of fact Mum didn’t know Grandma had so many friends. Then Grandma walked in and said to Mum,
’ Did you invite all these people?’
Mum looked a bit puzzled and said,’ Why?’
‘ Who are they!?’
Mum just stared at Grandma for a minute and said,
‘ Really mother? You have no idea who they are and why they are here?’
Sure, sure, it’s my birthday. But I don’t know more than half of the lot. Did you invite them over?’
Mum just shook her head and went on with her business. We didn’t really bother to go into it any further. Up till now we still have no idea where most of those people came from and we don’t think Grandma can tell us. Grandma had so much to drunk, she might even still be drunk when we get there.
I will have to finish this tonight, because Mum is calling me. There’s a lot of cleaning up to do and I guess the insurance company will be hearing from us, too.

See me later. 

Taking An Old Bag Shopping

14-03-2014 Friday

Coming to terms with the truth is not an easy thing to do. Today we were given a piece of paper with all kinds of facial expressions on it. We had to write down how the people in the pictures were feeling. Afterwards we discussed the answers. I got two right: happy and sad. And I must admit that I had problems with those two. I guess you could say I am not very good at these things.
It’s incredible how many facial expressions people can have and how many different names we have for emotions. I hadn’t even heard of half of the emotions. How can a man recognize an emotion in somebody’s face when he doesn’t even know that the emotion existed. Things like: betrayal, sternness, indignation, spooked, pain empathy, and so on. There were 35 facial expressions and then the teacher said that this wasn’t even a complete list. To make things worse, some of those facial expressions can even mean something else in a different situation or depending on the body. How am I ever going to understand people? How will people ever understand me!? People should write books on this for people like me. 
So much for the depressing bit of today’s blog. Tomorrow Grandma is celebrating her birthday. My guess is that it is going to be chaos and disorder most of the time. We went round this evening to help Grandma prepare a little bit and the first thing we did was drive to Tesco’s and going to Tesco’s with Grandma is an hilarious but also frustrating endeavour. It’s hilarious for me, frustrating for Mum and Dad, and some of the other costumers, and the staff.
Grandma had made a grocery list. If it hadn’t been for Mum I think we would have bought half the store, but nothing on Grandma’s list. In each and every food aisle Grandma said something like,’ Ooooh, biscuits. I like biscuits. These are my favourite. Let’s buy these.’ Or ,’ Oooh, Diary Milk. I love Diary Milk. I’ll have some of it. And she’d put one or two of the item in the trolley without even checking her list. Mum was desperately trying to put back everything that was not on the list and replacing it by things that were. As for me, I was just enjoying the show.
When we got to the cash desk, Grandma pulled out this big wallet from her purse. This is probably where the agony and frustration started. The wallet could have well been a purse onto itself. It also happened to be the only thing in Grandma’s handbag, because there simply was no more room for any other items in the bag. Then she opened her wallet and started putting all the coins she had in there on the counter, counting the money while doing so. The queue was getting longer, while Grandma took her time counting the money. In the end she was 2 pounds short and started putting it all back in her wallet again. As the lady behind the counter was getting a little annoyed she grabbed the money as fast as she could, gave Grandma her receipt, wished her a great evening and a happy birthday and screamed ‘next!’ I think Grandma knew she was two pounds short.
I was asked what kind of advice Mr Bent gave me on relationships. Well, first thing he said,’ Just make sure you use a condom!’ I guess he meant well, but it was a little awkward and I was in shock after he had said that. Evelyn and I hadn’t even kissed properly yet, how could he be thinking about those things. He’s a dirty ol’ man, sometimes. After that he said that it would be best to tell my parents and be honest, but also that he could understand why I found it difficult to do so. Still, it would be best to tell them myself, before they hear it through the grapevine. He also told me most girls don’t like it when you tickle their uvulas, but I’m not sure what he meant by that.
I would have loved to tell you more, but it’s getting late and tomorrow is going to be a long day. We’re going over to Grandma’s in the afternoon to help her get everything ready. I don’t know if I have time to write anything tomorrow. I’ll try my best. See me. 

Life’s Peachy And You Know It

13-03-2014 Thursday

Mrs Williams called in sick to day; it must be love. I told you to wear gasmasks the other day, because spring, love and hay fever were in the air. She is now paying the price, that’s what you get from falling in love. Well, in this case I think it might also have something to do with the fact that Mr Williams saw Mrs Williams kiss Mr Owen yesterday. If Mr Williams is a smart man, he’ll divorce her while he can (it rhymes therefore it must be true).
There is so much that has been going on lately and I haven’t had the time to mention everything. So, I’ll just spend one paragraph on each and everything I can come up with that I have forgotten. For instance, I forgot to tell you that it was Grandma’s birthday two days ago. Not that she celebrated it or anything. The silly old tart (Dad’s words, not mine) had forgotten about it herself. Mum called her up in the morning to congratulate her and such and then Grandma acted all surprised. At first she wanted to know whose birthday it was. When she realised it was hers, she wanted to know how old she had become and if she was allowed to vote now. Anyhow, we’re going to celebrate this weekend, if she hasn’t forgotten about it then. Mum said she would remind Grandma of it today and tomorrow just to make sure. If Darwin was right, how come Grandma is still alive!?
Talking about Darwin, survival of the fittest, right? Well, for some reason I am starting to feel a little like Pinocchio; I’m turning into a real boy. I got a lot of new friends on Facebook and on WordPress, I have got a girlfriend, and I am doing the best I can to lead a healthier life and get into shape. The healthier life is working out quite well, but at the rate things are going at the moment I think it might take a year or maybe ten before I am actually as fit as fit. I think I’ll try my first real push-ups (not on my knees anymore, but manly push-ups) somewhere this weekend. Nobody said it was easy.
I told Mr Bent about my relationship with Evelyn this week. Although he was very happy for me he is kind of sceptical about love himself. He nearly got married once himself, but the wedding was called off at more or less the last moment. Mr Bent wasn’t really clear on this or I wasn’t listening very well. After his wedding had been called off he has never been in another relationship again. Even though he hasn’t had a relationship for a long time, he did give me some fatherly advice on love and relationships. Which is more than I can say for Dad whose been married for as long as I know.
Mum and Dad, by the way, don’t know about my relationship yet. I haven’t told them, because, well, they wouldn’t understand. Mum and Dad have been married for so long I wonder if they remember what it was like to be in love and to have to underbelly feelings. Sometimes I wonder if they ever even had those feelings and if their relationship wasn’t just a bet they lost or some sort of business agreement they once made. True, I do hear them at night doing ‘things’, but very often and I never see them touch or kiss each other in real life.
Which brings me to Evelyn herself – this is the best part – Evelyn stole a kiss from me. When I said goodbye to her today and I had nearly let go of her hand she quickly turned her face round and pressed her lips against mine. It felt really good, but it was over before I realised what had happened. She ran off and I was standing there with a million thoughts going through my mind. Let me just linger longer on this love. See me tomorrow.  

Shirts, Skirts, and Woolly Hats

12-03-2014 Wednesday

Let me first say that I don’t like to talk about trivial things as ‘the weather’, so bear in mind that I was in extreme agony whilst writing this paragraph. With the weather we’ve been having some of us pupils seem to be very confused. We just don’t know what to wear anymore. Today I noticed that kids were wearing shirts, skirts, and woolly hats. Things used to be so easy; cold in winter, hot in summer, but you just can’t trust the weather anymore.

Okay, the pain is gone now. Let’s get on with it. I think it should be forbidden for teachers to have a love life at school. It’s normal for us (we, the people) to have one, because, basically school is our life. Some of us spend more time at or on school, than at home. As it is a place of learning, it is not more than logical to have a love life at school; we have to learn these things someplace and this is the designated area of love. Teachers should go and find their own place to do these kinds of things, especially when it concerns an affair. Go get a room!

Why am I saying this? Well, for more than one reason. First of all it kind of grosses me out to see two teachers holding hands, kissing each other and, basically, acting like teenagers amongst real teenagers. It’s just not right. They should act the way grown-ups do. Also, it’s not only awkward for the teachers but also for the hundreds of pupils when you’re having an affair and just as you’re kissing your affair goodbye, your husband shows up to collect you.

I wasn’t there to witness anything myself, but the news spread like wildfire. It had reached everybody within one period. Notes were passed (yes, we still do that) under the tables with silly drawings and stupid remarks. I wonder what’s going to happen tomorrow. This is like a real life soap opera and this was the ultimate cliff-hanger. Can’t wait to see how this will end. See me tomorrow.

French Kissing In The UK

11-03-2014 Tuesday

There’s been some Internet problems since yesterday, so I was not online very much today. Dad got round to fixing the problem at 22.30 after I had told him for the so manieth time what the problem was last time Internet was down. I don’t know if anyone remembers this, but we had Internet problems before and that was because Cheddar had been messing about with the cables. At least, Mum blamed Cheddar. For some reason I think it’s Mum who’s been ‘accidentally’ pulling some of the plugs while cleaning the house, but we’ll never know because poor ol’ Cheddar can’t talk. Wagging its tale on the other hand …
We have not been spotted as far as I know. I mean Evelyn and I, Arthur. Though I think it is kind of official that we are a couple – even though we haven’t even kissed each other – we are trying our best to lay low for the time being. Some people can be quite annoying when they know you’re a couple. They ask stupid questions, make silly remarks, and say mean things about it behind your back. That’s why we’ll probably spend most of our time holding hands underneath the table and send each other love letters. I will have to work on my sweet talk. Also, I will have to start practising my kisses. Somebody once told me you could practise this on your hand. I tried it after school today standing in front the bathroom mirror. It looked stupid.
As I said yesterday, it’s in the air. Almost the entire school is talking about what happened yesterday between Mr Owen and Mrs Williams. Everybody is wondering what it is they did last night. Stories very from going to the cinema to things that kids my age should not be talking about. Even though I know about these things, does not mean I want to hear about it. Especially when it concerns teachers or parents. I think it’s gross.
For some people it just isn’t in the air. I don’t think it’s in the air for Mr Williams. His wife is having an affair with Mr Owens, the whole school is talking about it, and he might be at home or at work thinking everything is hunky-dory. I feel sorry for Mr Williams and even though it’s an SEP (Somebody Else’s Problem – see Hitchhiker’s Guide for more details on this) I do think somebody should inform him on this and with someone I actually mean Mrs Williams. I’d hate it if he were to hear this through the grapevine. Maybe somebody should talk to Mrs Williams about this. Not me.
Because of those Internet problems it’s already way past my bedtime. I hope to be dreaming a little dream of Evelyn, tonight. When I was brushing my teeth I tried practising a kiss with my toothbrush, but it made me gag and I think part of my tooth broke off. I’m not sure; it could also have been part of the toothbrush. I will check in the morning. See me tomorrow. 

Put On Your Gasmasks

10-03-2014 Monday

It’s Monday, spring is in the air as well as love and hay fever. Mrs Hoover wasn’t at school. She was at home struggling with hay-fever symptoms. Somebody told me she was going to see a doctor about it as she had never had hay fever before and they might want to check if it is not some killer flu or anything. For her sake I hope it’s just hay fever, for the sake of my fellow pupils, I’m hoping it’s something worse than that. For my sake I’m hoping it’s something bad enough to keep her down at least till Friday, but not bad enough to kill her, because she still has to give me back my mark for my last test.
I think Mr Owen and Mrs Williams have a severe case of the love. I saw them coming out of the teacher staff room today. Mr Owen grabbed Mrs Williams by the arm (or hand, I’m not sure) and said,’ Tonight?’ as he looked at her in a very weird way. I can’t really explain it that well, but I’ll try my best. Let’s say you were just given your favourite sweet (or biscuit), but you were not allowed to eat it right away. The sweet is within eyesight, it makes your mouth water, you’re all happy about the sweet and you’re thinking about how you are about to devour it completely. Then suddenly it is pushed in your direction and closer to your mouth. The look that you have on your face at that very moment is just the look Mr Owen had. With his lips curling up and wet and all. Mrs Williams responded in a girlish voice with a decisive,’ Tonight.’ and she gave him ‘the wink’. Then she turned round, all blushing, her skirt twirling round her legs as in those romantic films, and a smile on her face that said it all. I felt kind of dirty after this, knowing that she’s been winking at every guy she sees including me. I need a shower.
I’m not going to wash my hand ever again, though, but that is for another reason. As I said, love is in the air and you should either start wearing a gasmask or you’re sure to be infected by it too sooner or later. Evelyn and I held hands today. Though it was not in plain sight. That’s not our style. It was under the table and though it felt as if it lasted forever I guess it was maybe five minutes or something.
During lunchtime I ended up at sitting at the same table as Evelyn. Okay, maybe that wasn’t really a coincidence; we may have done it accidentally on purpose if you know what I mean. Anyhow, we were sitting there, eating our lunch. Mum had packed an apple and some homemade sandwiches with something that I couldn’t identify but looked very healthy. Evelyn on my left and I was on her right. My left arm was just, I don’t know, dangling there, being useless, when I felt the back of Evelyn’s hand touching mine. It was so soft and warm.
First, one of our fingers got hold of each other, then another and another, and before we knew it we were holding hands, just like that. It felt so good holding her hand in mine. I think we were both blushing and I think I could hear her heartbeat going just as fast as mine. We didn’t really dare to look at each other or at anybody else. I don’t think anybody noticed anything except for us. No way Mrs Williams is going to get away with another wink at me. Back off, lady, this man is taken!

See me tomorrow.  

Shaped Like An Apple

09-03-2014 Sunday


I tried sleeping in today, because I couldn’t seem to catch sleep last night. Cheddar came to wake me up at 8.00. I sure am happy with the dog, on the other hand, it would have been nice if I had been able to sleep a little longer. Taking Cheddar for a walk at 8.30, half asleep, unwashed and in my most casual outfit ever does not make me look sexy and wanted. All right, I admit, it does make me look ‘wanted’. My face like this would look great on one of those old wanted photos. The only thing missing is a 5-o’clock shadow. It might take some years for me to have that.
Walking Cheddar I decided it was time for me to do more than just mind what I’m eating. It is time to get that body in motion. Fight that fat. Get into shape, a different shape than round. That is why I am going to start doing push-ups (while my hands can still touch the ground when lying on my belly). I am going to do sit-ups, and burpees and I’ll see what other things I can come up with. Maybe I could watch Rocky for some inspiration. Jogging, on the other hand, is not an option.
‘Why?’ I hear you ask. We’ll, every day I see those joggers in Kensington Park – just like this morning – and it really depresses me much. Cheddar and I often pass joggers. Yes, that’s right, we pass them while they should be passing us. And Cheddar and I are just strolling through the park. It’s not like we’re trying to outrun each other or anything. As we’re walking they pass us by, tongues dragging over the path, grasping for air and going as fast as any pedestrian on a Boxing Day down at Oxford Street. That, to my opinion, is not working out (pun intended). It is depressing and a waste of time. I have been passing a lot of these people by for over a year and some only seem to have been getting fatter instead of faster. One letter makes all the difference.
So, this morning, after having walked Cheddar, I started with five push-ups (on my knees, but it is a start), ten sit-ups, ten burpees and about 25 cherry pickers. I believe that is what the PE teach said they were called It looked a bit like a windmill to me. Yes, I admit, it killed me. Four simple exercises and I felt like I was dying. PE at school has not been very helpful over these years, apparently. I will have to work harder during those lessons as well. I think if I can keep it up – a healthier diet and working out – I should be in a better shape than apple-shaped within a year.
I am keeping it short today, because I have been neglecting my homework for way too long. There’s a pile of work on my desk that I really need to get rid of. Luckily Mum doesn’t come into my room that often so she has no idea, but it is time to get some of that work done, too. Enjoy today’s weather and see me tomorrow.