Sarah, Kylie, Me at 3:20 minutes.

Being an apprentice is a drag. I have to practice typing. For school. My employers don't care but my tutors seem to. I can't type with the ten-finger typing thing-y.
Today was my first day at school and I like my class, but not my teachers. They take themselves so seriously. And the moment you come into the classroom you have the pressure practically blowing you back through the door, like in cartoons, with your hair billowing out behind you, arms flapping.
Apart from that It's good.
And then on the train home I saw Ed.
I had such an attack of guilt. I feel bad about the whole-heap-a-bullshit that went down at high school between me, Ed and everyone else who thought that our relationship (or lack thereof) was their business. He really is a decent chap and I really can't help feeling bad for hurting him like I did. Even if it wasn't really my fault.
If only I'd put my really foot down when I said no to A- and S-. I could have spared us both a lot of crap. Curse my inappropriate reactions to stress! I tend to laugh or smile when I'm in a stressful situation like a whole class of girls wanting me to have it off with a specific guy, having my wisdom teeth removed, being told off by my best friends mother in London airport in front of a hundred people...I either laugh, or immediatly burst into tears. Anyway, where was I?
Ah, yes, Ed.
well I came, I saw, I felt guilty and my heart beat my ribcage to smithereens...
God knows why I reacted like that. Or do react like that... I don't regret having turned him down, It wouldn't have worked, and neither of us would have been happy together. But the time it took for him to actually ask me personally, not my friends, was too long and gave everyone too much time to screw around with me...I did like him. Platonic and all that...So why does my heart start racing when I see him? I don't fancy him anymore, that's for sure.
I'm confused. I'm sure Oscar would know what to do.

Or should I say Oskar. Oskar stands for communication in my IKA course (Computer stuff). And every time my teacher said Oskar my head shouted. Wilde! Be Wilde! So now Oscar Wilde teaches me how to use Word. Yay!
I simply must read Dorian Grey again.
This time I shall picture Ben Barnes as Dorian. (Not something I usually encourage, but this is an exception, because a) Barnes is hot and b) I had to get up at 5:30 this morning and don't have the brain capacity to create a hot Dorian in my head.)

Not very remarkable, but have arachnophobia. It does impact my life in the sense that I get very paranoid about there being spiders in my general vincinity. And I've been having the same nightmare about massive spiders in their huge fuck off webs at least once a month since I was little.

I slept quite badly last night. I don't know why, but I had horrible nightmares and woke up at four in the morning unable to get what I'd dreamt out of my head. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I'm going to say that I was an idiot not to get out of bed and make myself a cuppa and read in the lounge room until I'd cleared my mind. Instead of getting up, that childhood lesson where your parents tell you not to get up at all hours of the night is still so dominant in my mind that I felt like I wouldn't be allowed to get up to do anything other than go powder my nose or I'd get into trouble.
When I told my mum, she too said that I should have just got up and had a cup of tea. It's just so wierd, being old enough to make decisions for myself. I'm free to go to bed whenever I like, eat whenever I like...All those rules I was taught as a child are now no longer valid, as I may do as I please now. (To a certain extent, of course.)
I still have to get used to that. After all, in two days I'll be eighteen and I'm nowhere near as tall as I expected to be, and I've already got enough people telling me to sign forms and agreements for my health insurance, my bank account, tax forms, old age pension funds, etc.
And guess what? I don't want to turn eighteen. I never did. I'm compleately disillusioned and don't see the point. I've an irrational fear of learning to drive, I don't really drink, smoke or go to clubs...and the alcohol I do want to drink I can already get through my parents. There are no perks to turning eighteen. Just more bills to pay.
What a fizzer growing up is.

Is something I don't have. Not when it comes to my hair. I was planning to grow it long so that I could do regency-inspired hairdos, but today I got it all cut off.
I'd been thinking about it for a while. Getting a "boys" hairstyle. After all, I have big eyes and feminine features so I can pull it off without looking too much like a boy.
And when I was at the hairdressers she was so reluctant to cut it and I kept saying "Make it shorter." Now I feel like I have no hair.
The whole point of the cut was that I'm going to start my apprenticeship in a few days and I want to not have to worry about blow drying my hair for half an hour until it sits right, and then go out into the wind or rain and find all the effort to make my hair look halfway decent was for nothing. As it has been until now. When She'd finished cutting my hair I had to dry it myself (that's the deal at that place. In exchange their prices are affordable for someone who is between jobs and hasn't been payed for a month.) I looked at myself in the mirror and thought "What have you done?! Cutting your hair so short is for other people not for you! You've gone insane! What are you going to do?" I like it, I reckon I look ok...but I still panicked. Now I have until the fourth of August to get used to it. After that, I need to feel slick, suave and business-like for my new job as an "office bitch".
So even though nobody will bother reading this,

Wheeey! I have a laptop!
It's cool and green and kind of funky with all its high-tech-seeming graphics and mock userfriendly programs.
I have named my laptop Concorde.
And the novelty of being able to lie in bed and type an LJ post is just...mind blowing.
I'm never going to leave my bedroom again. (Hey, there's another way to lose weight) I'll just waste away quietly in my room listening to The Humpty Dumpty Love Song and playing the sims 2. (I have a god complex. A result of high school bullying I think.)
There's only one problem with Concorde. It's rather large. That would normally be a good thing because then it's got a nice big screen to watch DVDs on, but my bedroom is so tiny that- well it really is just a bed-room. A bed in a room. And a bedside table and some boxes under the bed for all my stuff. So I can hardly even fit my laptop in here. Concorde is just going to have to get used to sleeping on the floor, because I don't have anywhere else to put it.
But apart from that...I love my new computer. It's infinitely cool.
 

Well....
I feel seriously shit.

But that's because I got my wisdom teeth brutally ripped out of my jaw removed yesterday and my mouth has swollen up so much that I can only just open it enough to put in a teaspoon and i cant even lick my lips. I look like a hamster with it's cheeks stuffed with grains. My mouth is so swollen and sore that I can't drink without a straw, so I can't even have a cuppa tea to cheer myself up because I can't drink really hot stuff through a straw or I'll burn my lips.
I still don't quite understand the concept of paying people to rip your teeth out for you. I mean, that's physical assault isn't it?
No, I suppose I just shouldn't think about it.

So on the bright side, I was at the Montreux Jazz Thang the day before and I was in the front row for Travis. It was brilliant.
We arrived in Montreux (my sis "!"  and our friend "Hertculese") and went to the concert hall and saw Fran and Neil in a car waiting to pull out on the road. They were smiling at Hertculeses Travis shirt. When- after much waiting- we finally got into the hall we managed to get Dougie side spot against the railing. Then the gig was soooooooooooooo good and Dougie smiled at me a couple of times. And at everyone else a couple of times. He's such a flirt. The song's were good (obviously) and I really love the new ones (which I'd never heard before)(obviously). They the staff moved the barriers away mid song and we rushed up to the stage and I found myself standing right under Dougie! He was so close.  "!"  asked him for a pick at one stage while Fran was explaining the concept of honey and lemon to us. While Dougie gave "!" a pick I asked him for one too and he said he'd give me one later or he'd run out of them. Later he chucked one into the crowd and I caught it. Then at the end of the gig he chucked one to me so I ene up with two Dougie picks, but I gave one to Hertculese and I keep the other one in my purse.

Post gig, we waited for the band Neil came out and signed a piece of paper for me and due to my incompetence I said hello instead of thanks. Or at least I think I did. But by then he'd already turned away from me so hopefully he didn't notice.
And hours after that the rest of the band came out. A few fans flocked around them and then some copper showed up at the door and started yelling at us all to get back, away from the door and next thing, some guy was being dragged out by a bunch of cops, struggling. Fran looked really shocked. I was stood next to him and I just said "riiiight..." and Fran made some comment about it. He sounded disapproving, like he was shocked that someone had to be dragged out and wondered what the world was coming to.  Then the cop yelled for us to get out of the way again in french so I said to Fran that he wants us to get out of the way, that more are coming and he said we'd better head down, away from the sloped driveway. Hertculese followed him and i used the opportunity to approach Andy who was sloshed and I told him we'd better get back and while the cops dragged out one more struggling bloke and he signed my paper with a cup of beer in one hand and my pen in the other, while I held the paper for him.
Then he staggered off and I went over to Dougie. He signed my paper and asked my name, asked me how I was going and I said I'd liked the gig, that it was my first Travis gig and that I was chuffed to have been up the front. He said he was glad I enjoyed it and Elle came up and said "hey Daddyboy". So Dougie showed us a photo of  his baby son on his phone and I chatted to him about what it's like to watch a baby grow from this tiny little "grub" (as Dougie put it) into a child that can do all sorts of stuff. I told him about how I'd looked after Ju in G- and how I miss her after looking after her every day and he was genuinely interested.
After, when he wanted to head back to his hotel he asked whether anyone wanted anything, photos, signatures, and I heard myself say "can I have a hug?" he looked around at me and said "Aww, of course you can!" and hugged me really long.
Then he went off and "!" and I went to join Hertculese who was one of a small group of people flocked around Fran. Fran signed my paper too and Elle thanked him for the sweaty towel she'd got. "Yeah, cos, who wouldn't want a sweaty towel?" I remarked sarcastically and Fran laughed and said he hoped it wasn't too sweaty. Later I asked for a photo and "!" took it.
Not long after that Fran said goodnight and disappeared into the street full of people.
All in all, a very good time was had by all.

Either there are a lot more spiders in the world than I ever suspected there to be, or I magically attract the blasted beasts. Neither of these options doesn't make me want to liquify in fear.
Last night when I got to my home in G- I noticed that there was a rather large spider lodged in my bedside table lamp.
I'm proud to say that I evicted him from his home withought dying from my skin crawling off my body. And though my skin was crawling and I suspected there to be spiders everywhere I managed to get to sleep...eventually.
Then at about half past one in the morning I was awoken by a very deep buzzing and pat sounds while, what sounded like a very large crane fly, tried to fly through the wall above my bed.
I was not much pleased.
I turned on the light and armed myself with the tin I keep my makeup in. Then I went in search for the biest. Of course it didn't take me all to long to find as it was the size of a prehistoric biest and I almost died of a heart attack. Usually Craneflies do no bother me and I share my room with them gladly, or humanely evict them through my window. But this one was rather taking advantage of my kind hospitality so I caught it in my tin and flushed it down the toilet.
I know it seems a cruel thing to do, so I shall justify my actions with the argument that it was one-thirty in the bloody morning and this was the mother of all craneflies! I do not joke or embelish when I say that the things body  was about five cenitmetres long and it had a mean streak a mile wide.
After disposing of the cranefly I went back to bed, skin crawling, spiders everywhere, half expecting a dinosaur to come crashing through my window.
I did not sleep a wink.

My day did not begin particularly well.
It began around one in the morning when a mosquito tried to murder me. And again at two-thirty and four-twenty-six and various other hours of the night. At six-fourty when I got up in the morning, the beist had gorged itself enough on my blood and was found resting on my pristine white door. I killed it with a splat and lots of oozing blood, which I managed to clean up well enough.
Then I didn't have enough time to drink my mug of english breakfast and when I was walking to the tram stop in the rain, the passing cars and I re-enacted that Bridget Jones film where she's going to thank Darcy for getting her out of gaol and gets drenched by a passing truck that drives through a puddle. By the time I got to school I had a very dark clouds hovering above my head.
I had a french test at school and it went really badly.
It was about the subjonctif and I hadn't actually had any time to practice for it as I was working this weekend and busy all last week. With work.
I must keep reminding myself that it doesn't actually matter if I fail school now because I have a job lined up for August already, but I still care about my marks. And on a scale from one to six where six is best, a two is a bit embarrassing... It's all my teachers fault. I'd like to blame it on my french teacher because I loath her and who is incapable of explaining anything coherently, but technically it is my own fault for not practicing. I suppose all I can say is that she doesn't really give us much of a head start when she begins explaining the subjects. I'd explain, but it'd only end up with me ranting even more.
After school I missed my tram, in the tram I had some wierdo cough all over me because he'd forgotten that hands can be a very useful extremity when paired with a handkerchief.
Then I spent a nice enough afternoon with Ju, who chewed on my hands (she's teething now so it resulted in a lot of pain), screamed in my ears, clawed my face and cried at all the best possible moments. She's lovely, but sometimes I wish she were a bit older and could entertain herself as she tends to start crying after spending three minutes in her play pen.
When I play with her she has this little plastic pig for in the bath with a small hole in it's mouth and when you squeeze it air comes out (obviously if it were in the bath it would spray water) and I squeeze the air into her face and she opens her mouth for me to shove the pig in there. She then tends to grab it off me and shove it in her mouth, pull it back out, shove it in again and examine the threads of saliva that trail from her mouth to the pigs head. It's all a bit gross, but that's just what babies do. And when you know them as well as I know Ju, it's just cute.
I'll miss it when I'm working my 9 till 5 office job.

 

Well, apart from being vomited on by Ju today, all's been quite good. I'm a bit down because I would have liked to see be in the choirs premiere of the Zellerflöte. And because I've not actually had much of a weekend. It's just been work and no play. Not even much of a break.
Don't get me wrong, I like looking after Ju she's the sweetest baby. F and M are really nice and I know I'm very lucky to be working for a family like theirs, but I'm starting to feel like I had a certain energy reserve when I started this school year and that it's rapidly dwindling away.
I just really need some holidays.
Luckily It won't be long until my contract ends and I'll be free to go home and no longer have to take care of spewy Ju. Bless her. No more changing smelly nappies and certainly no more going to school smelling faintly of baby sick now matter how often I shower or wash my clothes.
I'm looking forward to starting my 9 till 5 office apprenticeship. Just sitting nicely in an airconditioned office drinking copious amounts of tea and eating the odd kitkat etc...

I won't have to commute four hours from Z- to G- every weekend and only have half a Sunday to enjoy.
No one will comment on how long I stayed up last night, I won't have to iron my sheets or hoover my room if I don't feel like it. I can stay in the bathroom as long as I like without feeling self conscious. And I'll be able to decorate my room however I want or leave it as messy as I please.

But then again... All these things I'm complaining about are so tiny, so trivial, I'll really miss this place. And I'll really miss living in such a cool city.

Today the girl who sits in front of me in class (who usually only talks to me to tell me to sod off) turned around and asked how you spell habiter (to live in French).
Do I look like a friggin dictionary?
So what If I know the answer, she should look it up herself!
Just cos I have glasses everyone thinks I know and want to tell them the answers to their questions. I have specs because I can't see not because I have a superior intellect. For some strange reason people tend to mix the two up.

I've been invited to an exclusive Under The Iron Sea pre-listening! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chances of going were slim at first, but things soon picked up when I relaized that I wouldn't have any school on Tuesday afternoon.

How handy!

I'm sooooooooo exited, I'm sooooooooo exited, and have I mentioned that I'm sooooo exited? Cos I am.