onlyemma's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "please, never mention that again Kathryn..." Ugh. I hate it when people you haven't spoken to in ages add you to their msn contacts just so that you'll go on their profile to see who they are and discover that their favourite things are "sex, sex and more sex!". Oh God, Kathryn I'm NOT impressed. I'm more likely to throw up all over my keyboard and eat it again than congratulate you on your sex life. It'd be much nicer for everyone if you didn't even mention it. This is from a girl who pretended she was from Poland for the whole of Year 7, though only during our Textiles lessons. For goodness sake, girls like that shouldn't be allowed sex lives. In less disturbing news, today was a complete bore. It seems I was Dad sitting. My Dad's working from home now, which, as I've told him, is a completely bad idea. Now I know where I get my attention span from. This morning he came into my room to use the computer and started doing his work and making phone calls. But before I start getting too proud at how commited and self-controlled he is, he's downstairs eating a bacon sandwich and watching the Home and Leisure channel. So many times today did I have to shout, "Dad? What are you doing? Why are you watching the TV, don't you have work to do? No, I don't think you should watch one more programme, I think it's better if you get your work done...." And then I had to persuade him not to go and visit Bestefar or make an elaborate meal for himself that would take hours and hours because he's a perfectionist. I made him a bowl of noodles and told him not to leave his desk until all his work was done. He managed it in the end: I reminded him that he wanted a BMW. I'm so fed up of having a pile of Christmas presents on my bedroom floor. Everyone does it though: Open their presents then leave them in a pile to admire every time they walk in their room, and to remind themselves that they've benefited from the birth of Jesus Christ. (I'd like to add that my beliefs are deeper than that though and I know that Christmas is not just a 'holiday' and lots of presents. SANTA WAS NOT BORN ON CHRISTMAS DAY. Damn commercialism, I should boycott Coca-Cola.) Anyway, I keep tripping over toiletries when walking in an out of my room in my big, fluffy slippers but I still don't want to put my presents away because no-one else has and I don't want to be the only one who doesn't have a pile of presents in their room. And when's the appropriate time to open a bag of chocolate coins without feeling you're eating away all the Christmas spirit? I think about rubbish too much. Not having anything of particular use to do today, I started thinking of things that annoy me again. The biggest annoyance I could find was, why do Dennis and Dirty Den in Eastenders always ALWAYS call Vicky and Sharon, "the girls"? THE GIRLS? Sharon's about 45, she is NOT a "girl". And they always say, "look after the girls won't ya?". Ugh, SHUT UP!! They don't need looking after! If they get into any trouble Sharon could easily kill anyone with a swift flip of her hair extensions. 5:58 p.m. - 2003-12-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||