Sigh...

and here we are again.

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I remember this girl in my primary school once, and when we had to knit she would turn her chair away from the teacher, and move her arms like a train to look like she was knitting.
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.
.
And today me and my friend finally figured out what we will do when we are older.
We are going to run crossword championships.
We had to do a crossword in R.e. today, and we were so inspired.
We have even come up with some of the rules.
...sigh
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.
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We also had to write about justice and injustice in the lesson.

I could have gone deep and talked about how there isn't a clear definition.
For example,
A hard-working man and a lazy man both have an equal amount of money.
On the one hand, thats fair as they have the same amount.
On the other hand, it isn't fair, because the hard-working man deserves more money.
And the question to number 7, is that the world won't ever be a fair place, because everybody's view on justice differs.

I suppose it is easier to describe justice as splitting 10 sweets between 2 people equally.
But.
What if one person bought the sweets with all their own money?

Well,
as if that doesn't make my head dizzy.

Dancing on Ice?

I use to watch this reality tv show called 'Dancing on Ice'.
There would be these not-really-famous celebrities paired up with professional skaters and they would 'dance on ice' every week.
And I use to really like it too.
Once I had a packet of skittles, I poured them out, counted it, and seperated then into groups so I knew how much I could eat between each advertisement break. I even sorted the colours into order so I could leave my favourite ones (yellow and green) to last.
But, I grew up and matured a little over the last 2 years or so, and have stopped watching it.
Its great entertainment if you want to watch extremely mediocre 'celebrities' being dragged around on the ice,
and to be fair one out of 12 of the contestants are quite entertaining.
So to conclude
.................................
Although I would never watch it now,
its a great way to ration how much skittles you eat.

Oh, how rare. A refreshing monday.

This is rather awful.
I am going to write about the feeling of a Monday. And the weather. But don't worry...Eisteddfod is here to make things better (!)

So, Wales. Temperatures were fine, not one q-tip in sight (withfrains/withthrains herself from making some terrible joke about dandruff). Its not great for the mood of people in school though, here we all are, dutifully learning about the perfect tense in French, and some lucky kids are off school in England.

The weather was rather lovely here, warm and Spring-like.
In short, I found it easy for once to get out of bed.

And off to school I went.

Oops, my memory is going. There was drizzle rain. Which is still fine.
'I love drizzle rain' <--- quoting my vegetarian friend who eats bacon to support the local economy.

But the weather was still fine.

And, behold the greatness, hold headlines, prepare the newsflash.
EISTEDDFOD's back.
Its a Welsh celebration, where people act, sing, dance, and play instruments, write, draw ecetera.
And of course, the winners of the writing competitions get to sit on a chair while our rugby-fanatic welsh teacher waves a sword about.
Our school holds one every year. And every year our house (school split into three 'houses') loses.

Oh, the memories.

In my first year I joined garage orchestra where I hit two wine bottles with a wooden spoon in an attempt to recreate 'Mama Mia'. (We lost that category)

In my second year I entered the instrumental soloist competition where I was against two grade-8 violinists. (I lost) I also took part in the English dramatic where I was a doctor, and got into trouble for 'stealing' a lab coat from the science department to look the part. (We lost that category)

Last year, I was an American male criminal (Dandy Dan? in Bugsy Malone) with an Australian accent and a fake moustache drawn on by an eyeliner. I also wore a huge silk gown, and baggy pants. (Need I say what we came in the category?) I also entered the instrumental soloist (joint last), and the writing competition.

And....behold the greatness, hold headlines, prepare the newsflash.
I came third in the writing competition, meaning a prize of £5!
It was a great moment, 10 mins with an online rhyming dictionary and writing a poem resulted in glory, joy, and euphoria.

I gloi, mae Cymru yn lle hyfryd a gall yr Eisteddfod fod yn hwyl. Ond nid yr iaith yw, oherwydd yr wyf yn hyn o bryd yn teipio i mewn i Google Translate ac yna copïo a gludo'r testun i mewn yma.
(To conclude, Wales is a lovely place and the Eisteddfod can be fun. But the language isn't, because I am currently typing into Google Translate and then copying and pasting the text into here.)

When I was little,

When I was little, I was a carrot thief.
There I was, probably about 3, just being tiny and doing whatever 3 year-olds did 11 years ago.
Being me, that was most likely, lying on the floor 'drawing' with crayons.
(Source: not memories, but a photo of me lying on the floor 'drawing' with crayons)

And my mum was in the kitchen, cutting carrots up, preparing for the evening meal, and she placed the carrots on the worktable.
And then the carrot thief snuck in, being absolutely tiny she could go anywhere unseen. (My mum may have been in the toilet)
So I pulled the chair to the workplace, climbed on top, and grabbed a handful of carrots.
And ran like the wind.
For my mum had seen me.
I sat at my little table on my little stool, covered the carrots with my hands.
Only the carrots stuck out at both ends,
because,
well, because I was 3 and had tiny hands.

Funky Friends

I think its about time that I dedicate a blog post to my friends.
In no particular order.

-The one that has recently started wearing a skirt to school, sometimes the wrong way around.
-The one that has too much amazing hair. And calls me Corinney bear.
-The two that look like each other.
-The one that has stinky perfume in her pencil case.
-The only one that is taller than me when I wear 3-inches boots.
-The one that understands my passion for marshmallows.
-The one that I need to reply to via airmail.
-The one that whose favourite sandwich, is smoked salmon and cream cheese.
-The one that has hips, and is a boy.
-The one that who points out all my accidental innuendos.
-The one that I need to trip up using my slide-down-the-wall technique.
-The one that is in love with Gok Wan, and even has his glasses.
-The one that used who gave me tiny pig for christmas.
-The one that can burst my bottled up tears.
-The one that I walk home with, and can pull off most hairstyles.
-The one I call my half-neighbour.
-The one that always has amazing German chocolates.
-The one who I once gave a finger-puppet to.
-The ones I have forgotten to write one specifically about.....................................