What a lot of dandy fun has taken place since i last wrote. Hmmm, where to begin? i have been spending rather a lot of time inside my own head, if that makes sense, which has been rather exhilerating. We have had three science exams and one ECS, not that that would be of much interest. I have come to realise that anything can be wonderful, but you have to see it in a particular way. For instance, i would have thought at first glance that a crewdly drawn scetch would be quite unpleasant, but it could be thought to reflect the carelessness and wonderment of a young child. Just a thought. Please ignore it if it makes no sense. I would.
Anyway... my story has had absolutely no attention since i have had simply too much on my plate to work on a masterpiece. Well, my little children's book, anyway. I went to an astrology shop in central london today. It was quite inspiring, although i must admit that i thought some of it was utter s***. I do not like to swear on my blogs. Anyway, i looked up my birthday in 'The Birthday Astrology Book', and it said: '29th July. You are - at your best - loyal and cooperative. You are - at your worst - conformist and cowardly.' I must say, i am not the least bit conformist, as anyone who knows me would realise, and to be honest, i am not very cooperative either. I like to make decisions on my own, and work towards improving my life, while the book said: 'you would rather help elevate your social group, be it your family or your society...' Hmph!
Back to reality. I am reading a book for English at school called 'the God of Small Things', which is really amazing, but if anybody tells me what happens i will find out where you live...
anyhow, i have to go. Blog again shortly.
Cheerio X
Saturday, 21 June 2008
Sunday, 11 May 2008
oh lordy lordy lordy
Sunday. You know what that means to me? No, you probably don't. And before you say anything it ISN'T sabbath, thank you very much. Everyone's working away today, rather on the contrary to sabbath. As i said yesterday, the poor helpless students of year ten up and down the country have their first real GCSE tomorrow. Science. I wish it could be something i was actually good at particularly, like English. But no, the world has instead decided to give us science. Thank you very much, God.
Ah, well. As my dear old mama would say, It's time to swat up. Of course at first I, like any normal teenager, told her that nobody has said swatting up since the middle ages, and that she should get a grip. But after a few weeks of her talking swat language to me, i have found myself saying it. Don't judge me too harshly. If you lived with her you'd probably be saying all her mumisms too.
You might be wondering why i am posting this blog when i should really be swattin- sorry, revising for my exam. Well you see, it is very much a comprehension paper, yes, i know it's science, and as a result i am finding it very hard to decide what to swat up on.
Besides, like many of you i am sure, i have become addicted already to the mindless and pointless banter that we call blogging, and so here i am for a very long time. Probably. Although, like myspace, this may become as pointless and never-ending as Lord Of The Rings. I hope not.
But blogging is way more fun than myspace, because i have a chance to show my supreme interlect *Cough Cough*, and ramble on as much as i like without worrying that people will look and think i am a nutter, because although you may be thinking it, you probably don't know me. But if you do, then you are one of my friends, so it is ok. You know i am a nutter already.
Anyway, in order to live up to the title of the blog, i should probably make a remark on something, and say 'Lordy Lordy Lordy'. Who says that anyway? I wonder where it comes from. Is it Irish? I'm half Irish so i should know, but i don't so there.
We're doing 'A View From The Bridge' in drama for our pre-mock GCSE. That's basically a mock mock, but the school doesn't want to look stupid, so they rename it. But of course. there's still no point. We've got mock mocks in everything soon. Oh, Lordy Lordy Lordy. There!
I shall have to go now into the deep and oceanic wonders that swimming beholds. Yum.
Cheerio x
Coral berry
Ah, well. As my dear old mama would say, It's time to swat up. Of course at first I, like any normal teenager, told her that nobody has said swatting up since the middle ages, and that she should get a grip. But after a few weeks of her talking swat language to me, i have found myself saying it. Don't judge me too harshly. If you lived with her you'd probably be saying all her mumisms too.
You might be wondering why i am posting this blog when i should really be swattin- sorry, revising for my exam. Well you see, it is very much a comprehension paper, yes, i know it's science, and as a result i am finding it very hard to decide what to swat up on.
Besides, like many of you i am sure, i have become addicted already to the mindless and pointless banter that we call blogging, and so here i am for a very long time. Probably. Although, like myspace, this may become as pointless and never-ending as Lord Of The Rings. I hope not.
But blogging is way more fun than myspace, because i have a chance to show my supreme interlect *Cough Cough*, and ramble on as much as i like without worrying that people will look and think i am a nutter, because although you may be thinking it, you probably don't know me. But if you do, then you are one of my friends, so it is ok. You know i am a nutter already.
Anyway, in order to live up to the title of the blog, i should probably make a remark on something, and say 'Lordy Lordy Lordy'. Who says that anyway? I wonder where it comes from. Is it Irish? I'm half Irish so i should know, but i don't so there.
We're doing 'A View From The Bridge' in drama for our pre-mock GCSE. That's basically a mock mock, but the school doesn't want to look stupid, so they rename it. But of course. there's still no point. We've got mock mocks in everything soon. Oh, Lordy Lordy Lordy. There!
I shall have to go now into the deep and oceanic wonders that swimming beholds. Yum.
Cheerio x
Coral berry
Saturday, 10 May 2008
people of blogland
Good even oh great bloggers, people of the lost art of blogging. Sorry about that. Anyway, i am a Coral sitting in her dad's flat with her eight little gerbils scurrying around in their various cages, the females chewing up their cage, the males blissfully humping one another, practising in hope of a girl to join their ranks. Sorry, mate. I'm not looking after any more of your gerbil offspring thank you very much. Besides, i'm sure they get just as much pleasure out of humping their brothers, don't you?
I suppose you're wondering why i have eight gerbils. No? Well, i am going to tell you anyway! I got two from this run down pet shop in Hackney, and the woman said it was a boy and a girl. I said, ever so pleasantly, "Oh, well. We shall have to swing by another pet shop, shan't we?" In fear of losing a sale, the woman lied and said she had made a mistake. That they were two boys. Me, in the blissful mind-set of a twelve year old girl, fell for her cruel lies and ended up with six tiny little mole-gerbils, as Nathan so playfully called them, (they were bald and couldn't open their eyes).
In further news, i have been informed of a rather sick-making turn of events. I have a science exam on monday. Which i do not have any idea of how to revise for. As an unfortunate result, i have ended up writing this rather informative blog, when really i should be readying myself for the rude awakening i am sure to get on monday.
Oh well, as i always say, you can't have everything.
Although i only just said that - probably for the first and last time - i do believe it. And so, i have settled for the midless ramble that i am currently writing. It could be a novella, now i come to think of it. A short story about me. But it isn't, so i mustn't linger on that thought any longer. I have had a rather pointless week; hot and tired, Highgate Wood School of North London decided not to bother with the education of young minds, and instead concentrated their attention on fanning themselves in their offices, (or rather, being fanned by regretful students, who blissfully unaware of the job at hand had volunteered to be office helpers).
The weather this week has really been unacountable. Just imagine it, North London, hotter than anywhere in Europe, including Greece. It's more depressing than it should be. Especially to me. This is because of my body's obscure desire to get burnt when the sun carelessly gives out even a few rays of ultra violet energy. I am therefore forced to slather myself in sun cream every morning, and top it up practically every five minutes. But i did assume, as i am sure you would too, that at five o'clock in the afternoon the rays would be too feeble to penetrate even my thin skin. But of course not. I returned home as flaming pink as though i really was a piece of coral.
Besides, hot weather now usually means wind, rain and thunderstorms in August.
Joy.
I am sure you would like to go now and enjoy reading someone else's ramblings, so i will bid you adieu.
Cheerio x
Coral Berry
I suppose you're wondering why i have eight gerbils. No? Well, i am going to tell you anyway! I got two from this run down pet shop in Hackney, and the woman said it was a boy and a girl. I said, ever so pleasantly, "Oh, well. We shall have to swing by another pet shop, shan't we?" In fear of losing a sale, the woman lied and said she had made a mistake. That they were two boys. Me, in the blissful mind-set of a twelve year old girl, fell for her cruel lies and ended up with six tiny little mole-gerbils, as Nathan so playfully called them, (they were bald and couldn't open their eyes).
In further news, i have been informed of a rather sick-making turn of events. I have a science exam on monday. Which i do not have any idea of how to revise for. As an unfortunate result, i have ended up writing this rather informative blog, when really i should be readying myself for the rude awakening i am sure to get on monday.
Oh well, as i always say, you can't have everything.
Although i only just said that - probably for the first and last time - i do believe it. And so, i have settled for the midless ramble that i am currently writing. It could be a novella, now i come to think of it. A short story about me. But it isn't, so i mustn't linger on that thought any longer. I have had a rather pointless week; hot and tired, Highgate Wood School of North London decided not to bother with the education of young minds, and instead concentrated their attention on fanning themselves in their offices, (or rather, being fanned by regretful students, who blissfully unaware of the job at hand had volunteered to be office helpers).
The weather this week has really been unacountable. Just imagine it, North London, hotter than anywhere in Europe, including Greece. It's more depressing than it should be. Especially to me. This is because of my body's obscure desire to get burnt when the sun carelessly gives out even a few rays of ultra violet energy. I am therefore forced to slather myself in sun cream every morning, and top it up practically every five minutes. But i did assume, as i am sure you would too, that at five o'clock in the afternoon the rays would be too feeble to penetrate even my thin skin. But of course not. I returned home as flaming pink as though i really was a piece of coral.
Besides, hot weather now usually means wind, rain and thunderstorms in August.
Joy.
I am sure you would like to go now and enjoy reading someone else's ramblings, so i will bid you adieu.
Cheerio x
Coral Berry
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