The lady doth protest too much, methinks

Bejayzus, but I am SICK of A Streetcar Named Desire. My very first A level standard essay and I am tearing my hair, gnashing my teeth and bleeding at the eyeballs all at once already. This sort of frustration was usually kept for Lord of the Flies work last year. And this time round I have a decent teacher and all.
But then, it is MUCH too late at night to be writing something like this. My own fault for procrastinating, as I am now. But concrete internet access is still too much of a novelty to be avoided, even when my conscience is beating me up inside.
I'm supposed to be translating some Latin as well after this. Yeah right. It's appallingly hard Latin as well - Virgil. Stupid man. What'd he want to write poetry for?! His word order is OBSCENE.

I've been worried for quite a while now that I'm not good enough to get into a good music college and be a professional musician though that is what I'd like to do. I never want to mention it to either of my music teachers as I think they'll laugh at me and say there's no way in hell I'd be good enough.
Well on Tuesday, without me asking at all, one of them said he thought I should go to the Royal Academy. Ironically enough it was the teacher I don't like as much.
Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside

...yep, that's me. Well, not all the time. But give me an outsized white shirt and a pen and I write poetry to rival Wordsworth as far as plain and simple pretentiousness is concerned. Just in case you don't believe me, cop a load of this. It's in sonnet form for a start, and I've got one for each element.  This one's Fire:

A glowing spark brings me into being
I burst forth from my birthplace; be aware
Of my hungry power all-consuming
The blazing heat and fury of my glare.
I am the scourge and saviour as I dance
Forever jubilant in your control
Or angry as with menace I advance
Before me all the earthly creatures bowl.
I writhe and roar, my appetite unsated
I must be fed to grow as I desire
Except in use I am forever hated
As I reach with my tendrils ever higher.
My beauty is superfluous to all;
I must succumb to water's quenching pall.

Don't be too cruel to me if you read this. They don't work us hard enough at school; I have too much time on my hands!

Just found this on the Yahoo news page thingy:

WASHINGTON (AFP) - A court in Nebraska is being asked to cast judgement on the ultimate judge -- God.
State lawmaker Ernie Chambers filed a lawsuit Friday against the Almighty -- acknowledging he/she goes by numerous aliases -- for causing "fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues" and other alliterative catastrophes.
The suit, Chambers vs God, asks the court for a "permanent injunction ordering defendant (God) to cease certain harmful activities and the making of terrorist threats" which affect innumerable persons, including Chambers's constituents.
It asserts that God is "the admitted perpetrator" of such acts and said that God's omnipresence gives the local Douglas County District Court jurisdiction in the suit, adding that God's omniscience eliminates the need to issue a formal notice of the lawsuit.
Chambers told local media he filed the suit to make a point about frivolous lawsuits frequently seen in US courts, citing a recent one against a judge.
He asked the court to award him an unspecified summary judgment against God, or, in the alternative, issue a permanent injunction against God engaging in the damaging acts cited in the filing.
Neither God nor his/her spokespersons could be contacted for comment.

Woo! I finally managed to coax my computer into letting me defragment my hard drive. For months and months it kept saying "Chkdsk is scheduled to run on volume C:" and when I tried to run this Chkdsk thing it didn't do anything for ages. But hurrah, finally it did. Taking bloody ages to defragment though. The percentage is just about creeping up to 21%. I love technology, but sometimes it's a little wearing.
Oh yeah and at County Youth Orchestra we're playing Rachmaninoff's 2nd Symphony. I'M PLAYING FIRST HORN!!! Admittedly I'm sharing the part with Sophie but I'm grateful for that as the piece in total lasts an hour. The first movement alone is 25 minutes. We're kind of being each other's bumpers. It's in E though, which means transposing down a semitone. Sounds easy? I'd rather it was in E flat and go down a tone. In fact last rehearsal that's what I kept nearly doing. There's a bit in the middle which is in F just to lull us into a false sense of security before it goes back into E. That's the worst part, readjusting.
I am also playing first in Beethoven's Fifth which we're doing at Chamber orchestra. That is however slightly less of an achievement as the only other horn player there is totally fricking useless. There, I've said it. I can't say it to anyone there as her dad is one of the conductors (I wonder why she's technically superior to me although being at least 2 grades below me?!) Sorry. Chamber always makes me angry. But at least I get to play some first. ^^
I'm so sad.
And bitter.

Why English Lit? is what all the posters ask you, at that time of year just before you choose your A level subjects. You dutifully read the poster, maybe you were already thinking of taking it, and it convinces you. You perhaps ask a passing friendly English teacher what the set texts are. "A Streetcar Named Desire and Hamlet" they reply with a cheery smile. Wonderful, you think. A bit of culture. That is before you realise there is a Whole Other Side to Lit. A Dark Side. Just when you think that you've eliminated the long time-warp compulsory lessons, where the very fabric of time itself bends and stretches before you so that the clock permanently reads twenty minutes to go - a period finely calculated to destroy your soul - you find out who your other teacher is. You have one really good teacher, one who makes you think and in whose lessons time is too friendly and eager to please, and dashes off into the Blue, and then the Other one, whose voice is at a pitch so incredibly monotonous it can only have been tuned by the Daleks themselves. It seems to be inexhaustible, and they always have the more boring part of the syllabus anyway so that nothing can prevent the doubts nagging at you - I shouldn't have taken this subject. That fatal thought. You must push it away, but in the "long dark teatime of the soul" (double period last thing) it comes a-creeping in...
Traitor! You think to yourself. But the damage is done. You are Bored.

You know I'm sure as I write this, somewhere the 1812 Overture is playing..

Dammit NotBob, you've got me hooked on these...

59% Geek
59%

Mingle2.com - Free Online Dating

57%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?

Mingle² - Free Dating Site

Yay! Just put up another chapter to my story. Hope I get a review other than the one from my best friend...well I suppose it's early days. Only been up there 2 of them in fact.
It's actually rather sad. Well, all right, very sad. Yes, people, I write fanfiction. So sue me! Actually you can't, there's a disclaimer
I do write original stuff too. But I just couldn't resist a bit of fanfic. I just like making the characters do what I want for a change...
Oooh power

...comes around, gets dizzy and falls over.

It's amazing, the power of self conviction. A couple of days ago I just decided to be happy and a few minutes later there I was on IM talking to about eight people and having riotously amusing conversations. Not helped by one of my friends being a little tipsy and for some reason, through the ether, it was contagious...
Just made me think. If just telling yourself to be happy like that can work, why is there so much selfcentred whinginess about? Not saying I'm completely innocent or anything. But there are certain people, like a certain girl in my Ancient History class, who really shoud be slapped out of feeling so darn sorry for themselves for no good reason.
OK, rant over. Just about.
Mmm, rice.

Oh no! That's supposed to read "bein a ninja"
Darn this lack of space

I am so pathetic. You would have to search extremely hard to find a more perfect example of a stupid teenage girl.
OK, so I like some guy. Not the end of the world, you think. Importance hardly on a par with world poverty or the situation in Iraq. Last night I was talking to my best friend on IM and the aforementioned guy comes online. Talk to him a bit, as you do, how was your summer etc etc. Then friend apparently tells him that I like him.

It took me all of last night and this morning to work out that it doesn't matter.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH
Oh my GOD but I am PISSED OFF!!! I HATE THE INTERWEB!!!!! If I ever meet this Fate person they'd better watch it because I will be after them with a red hot poker and a pair of forceps.
For ages and ages, over a year, I've had no internet access at home. This is since we moved from our house-before-last. Even then I've only ever had dial up. So I try and get round it by going on my dad's computer, at my mum's office etc etc. The other week my mum finally ordered BT broadband. Wonderful, think I. Today the package arrives and lo and behold, resplendant in white plastic is a Hub thing and a load of cable. There's a phone point just behind my computer by good luck, so my dad and I hook it all up. Nothing happens. Ok, maybe we just have to wait a bit. Still nothing. We get the landline phone and check the phone point. IT DOESN'T SODDING WORK. So the only possible place for the hub to go is downstairs, which would be fine but my computer is too old to have a wireless capability. Run a cable through the hallway and up the stairs..doesn't work as we assume the cable is too long. So the broadband package we have is effectively useless, except for my dad's laptop, hence this entry.
I really think I might cry.
Maybe I should sell everything I own and buy a laptop.
But I can't afford one.
PISS.