I have literally just awoken from a sleep which began at 5 am.
My sleeping pattern is so screwed up.
I'm going to have to sort it out before September.
I was looking at when my TV shows were returning to America so I can watch them online and it seems that they all return in September. About 6 shows for me to watch on a weekly basis, and that is without my current TV shows.
Hello TV shows.
Goodbye 6th year study!
My brother has the TV's volume turned up to the top. When I feel like getting out of bed, my first priority is to turn it off just to annoy him! My 2nd priority is to make dinner as none of my parents are home today.
I like this new routine of only eating two meals a day because I always skip breakfast because I'm asleep!
I think my other brother's in the kitchen now so that means I can't [Is that how you spell it? Or is it cant?] go in there and cook because I don't like cooking around other people!
Yes I am a bit of a social outcast. No I don't have a mental illness!
I have plans this week for the first time in a month at least. I got a surprise text saying 'Hey how are you x' which lead to a conversation making plans with my friends! I'm also heading to a festival this weekend with another friend which should be really fun!
I'm planning to write a serious blog now, with some added tales/non-boring things!
I hate living with my family, they're just not elf-ish enough for me, they don't seem to fit in with me! My mother always said she grew up "surrounded by fighting". If so, why bring it back into this household do your children? Its like WW3 here, my mother and brother versus my father. I'm getting blamed for everything because I'm a bold elf.
Anyway, I finally got out of the wardrobe. Turns out all I had to do was kick the door down, who'd have guessed it? I'm now stuck in my room, staring at my broken wardrobe and wondering what to do. All the garden gnomes have ran away, and I'm now just 'Noel the Elf, with no followers'. What a stupid thing of them to do, I'm a very interesting [boringly interesting] person, and frankly its there loss [or mine, but I won't admit it because I know that they're watching me.].
I really hate writing serious stuff as anyone who reads this may have guessed so I write personal things in fairytale's [Full of elf's and garden gnome's to scare away pesky children from reading this *Evil Laugh*].
I finally figured out what the 'I fell and seriously injured my fringe' joke came from too. Its from that advert on television where the woman who looks like a cow is walking through the reception in her work place and falls over because supposedly the floor was 'slippery' and there was 'no sign present', but my guess is that she was wearing high-heels and they couldn't support her, so they broke and she fell on her face, hence resulting in a 'seriously injured back' but more-so a 'seriously injured fringe'.
Seriously girl, contact your hairdressers, they deserve to be sued.
From: Agony Aunt, Noel.
ps: If that girl is reading this, call me, I'm interested in hooking up.
It is now complaint time. I ordered a chinese, and what did I get delivered? A chinese. It was nice. Its a pity it was all a dream though, so I'm writing to the food board, Board Bia I'm pretty sure is what they call themselves, that ugly girl is in charge of it, I don't care to remember her name, but anyway I'm writing to them to complain about me not getting my chinese. This is just not right, this is the 21st century [I think, it could be the 20th, I never care], and if I want a chinese, I should have a chinese!
Anyway, the plumber came and told me he couldn't open the wardrobe to let me out of Narnia. He said he wasn't qualified to do it. What. the. hell. Why would I call a plumber unless I needed him to do something?! If I wanted my toilet to be cleaned like he suggested, I'd have bought that person from the 'Cillit Bang' advert on television, he seems like the 'toilet-cleaner' type of guy. Don't you agree?
'Bang and the dirt is gone'. No, The dirt is not gone. You got a new shirt. I saw you. DON'T DENY IT.
So I hear Ronan Keating and his wife thing are getting re-married. No 'The Irish Sun', I don't care if the 4 year old is marrying his sweeping brush. If I wanted to know about that, I'd have bought 'The Irish We Have No News To Print'. Please refrain from filling me in on Ronan Keating's life from here-forth.
On a happy note, I got my period today, but I used that Tampax Pearl from the advert on television, and you know what happened? A woman appeared in front of me and told me she invented pearls. I got an awful shock so just told her to get the hell out of my house or I'd call the guards.
xox, Gossip Girl. [No I'm kidding, its only me, Noel the Elf/Gnome creature, don't be to upset though, at least I won't post a blog about you being pregnant.].