onlyemma's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Soaring, flying.... Your eyes are not deceiving you, it is indeed me. So I�m back from camping at New Wine (it's been over a month now) and I had an amazing time. I made loads of new friends and met up with some old ones; it was like Heaven on Earth. Even the down-pours, being flooded and slipping in the dinner hall didn�t dampen how much I loved it. And surprisingly, neither did constantly wearing a cagoule. Anyway. I vow, after this entry to not go so long without updating. I�ve attempted to write this entry at least ten times and have around four drafts stored away on various computers, but alas, I�m easily distracted. Kate bought the High School Musical soundtrack too (because she�s so cool), which didn�t do much for keeping me at the computer, especially as it was the sing-along version. I realized after the third sing-along that I was somehow always cajoled into singing the boys parts, which didn�t do much for my self-confidence (nor did Kate wincing every time I sang) and I became slightly offended when, after going through Breaking Free for the second time, Kate started calling me Troy. I went to Vicki�s house at the weekend, which meant the usual heady mix of alcohol and McFly, mixed up with the odd Backstreet boy and a microwave lasagne. I had a great time. Vicki had a project to do so we didn�t venture out of the house much, but we still managed to entertain ourselves by watching old episodes of Never Mind The Buzzcocks, drinking wine and dancing in the conservatory. We also played a game I invented called �Paparazzi�, on the way home from our outing to The Slug and Lettuce for cocktails on the last night, which basically involved us taking it in turns to hassle each other in the street, shout things and shove my camera in each other�s faces. Try it with your friends the next time you�re out; they�ll love it. I always enjoy the fact that we can be passing in the corridor to brush our teeth and Vicki and I will end up having a spontaneous two hour long conversation about books or if we had to go out with someone in Hollyoaks, who it would be. Our capacity to talk always manages to astound me. So Vicki and I had a lovely weekend and the only time it was anything less than brilliant was when I sobbed into my hands after looking up the price of my train ticket home, and the night we thought there was a burglar downstairs. Since coming home I have mainly been at work experience. That�s still going well and I�m enjoying it. I edited a whole documentary on my own over the last few weeks, which makes me quite proud and consequently smug and a little irritating to be around. I�m now embarking on a small film for the show reel in stop-motion. I have no idea how it will turn out but I have been practicing my skills this week with my digital camera and faffing about with a shortbread biscuit. I do suffer for my art. Apart from that, I�ve been watching a lot of Big Brother in the evenings since it�s been on. The nice thing about it is it seems to unite my family; my parents used to get extremely annoyed at me storming into the living room and demanding �Channel 4! Channel 4!� during whatever boring black and white or history programme they were watching. But after a good few weeks of being slowly worn down, they�ve given in to the fact that 9 o clock is Big Brother time � and now the only problem is finding the channel. You�d think this would be quite simple a task, except usually it is my mum who is hiding or sitting on the remote, provoking a scenario similar to this, as she has the tendency to use it as if it were a calculator: � It�s 104, Mum�. Mum! It�s 104� �One���oh���..four� She looks up. �That�s 144 Mum. That�s 144!� Usually we�re already a few minutes into the programme so I�m getting a bit anxious to get to the right channel before the first break. �Alright, I�m getting there!� �You don�t need to scroll up all the channels though Mum! Just-� �I�m doing it!� �But you�re not mum, you�re-� �For goodness sake Emma, give me a chance!� �104 Mum, just type it on the remote...� �EMMA! I�m doing it!� I start bouncing in my chair at this point �Just give it here� �No, I can do it!� She bats my hand away and concentrates on the remote. �Right�.� She looks at the TV again, �One��oh��-� �ONE-OH-FOUR, MUM! ONE-OH-FOUR! ONE-OH-FOOOOOUR!� �EMMA! Just be patient, there we go.� �That�s 144 again! It�s 104, Mum. ONE-OH-FOUR! ONE-OH-FOUR! ONE-OH-FOOOOOUR!� I�ve noticed we never seem to have this problem when turning over to watch an episode of Frasier. But eventually we get on the right channel and settle down to watch Big Brother until someone gets up to go to the toilet and someone else, usually Kate, says, �While you�re up!� and asks for a cup of tea. I�m enjoying having company this year though, as previous years I was slightly isolated in my guilty pleasure of good ole gutter TV. I�m so sad it�s over now; though not as sad as Kate, who cried through the finale. Anyway, I better update you on my driving lessons now, as they�re a continuing theme as I�ve had about a hundred of them. Okay, well maybe around forty. They�re going okay though. Last week, just before I belted home, we went through the things I still need to do and my instructor said, �we need to practice your emergency stop next week, so that�ll take at least 10 minutes�. I replied to this with, �John, shouldn�t that take about 2 seconds?�and laughed a bit too much. I was extremely annoyed when during my last lesson though, as I was executing a pretty darn good three-point turn when two girls who looked about 12 years old, walked down the street next to the car. My window was open a small way and one of the girls caught my eye and shouted, �hello, learner driver!� As I was stationary at this point, as I�d been told to wait until they�d walked passed before I carried on, I shouted back, �hello, young girl�. As the girls seemed satisfied with this response, smiled, and ambled along in front of me, I started to reverse again. That is, until I heard one of them say, �she looks about 14!� and the other one laugh. I�m quite sensitive about my youthful looks as you may know, so instead of ignoring this, I checked my mirror and stopped the car. I rolled my window all the way down, poked my head out and shouted, �I�m twenty-two! TWENTY TWO!� then, leaving the girls to gawp at me, I rolled the window back up again and continued with my maneuver. My instructor thought I was mad, but it was totally worth it. And my three-point turn was top notch. I think it was the anger that spurred me on. All in all, I�ve decided that I love driving. I really do. I really like how it makes me feel in control and like a proper adult. And I especially like when I see someone I know and beep the horn and accidentally start driving towards them. That�s always a bit of a surprise. Though luckily my instructor�s a patient man, as I believe you have to be in a job like that; but I still often wonder if he dreads teaching me every week. Sometimes I drive with my hands at the bottom of the steering wheel or I grip it with only my index finger and thumb and ask him, �Do any of your other students drive like this?� Oh crap. My mum�s just shouted upstairs and she�s making me go down for �a chat�. I�m 22, shouldn�t I have had all of those by now? I remember the one about drugs when I was about 15 and I told my mum I wasn�t doing them. She said, �Well, I�d like to believe you�, just in case I was lying. Oh please, like I�d have done drugs. I�d probably only just left the Barbie phase. I hate forced chats. You know it�s just a civilized telling off. Oh God, no. I hope my mum didn�t open my bank statement and that�s what this one is about. Though there�s always the strong possibility that it�s about not putting the towel behind the bath taps when I have a shower. That�s one of the worst. 12:00 p.m. - 2007-09-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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