There's only so much a girl can do.

Well. This is balls.

I'm terribly sorry I haven't been chatting as much as I should, but I have so much going on it's hard to take time out to talk to a computer screen.

I'm begining to wish I'd taken a subject I was particually good at, as opposed to the subjects universities want.
Prom is just dragging and the minute I think I've made progress something comes up.
I failed my exams beautifully.
And I can't sort out relationships to f*cking save my life.

I'm getting incredibly grouchy and snappy at my friends, and I'm suprised they're putting up with me in this bitchtastic mood.

I'm so fed up of people forcing us to grow up.
I wouldn't mind so much if it was a consistent thing, but it seems adults want you to be adults when it suits them.
I'm not 18 yet, and I'm only just grasping what a freaking joy that is.
Looking for a car and insurance whilst barely earning more than £50 a month at my chemist job is a joke.
I start to loath people who's parents have brought them a car. I'm glad mine haven't, because there's no way I could ever be described as spoilt and quite frankly, why should they buy me a car?
But people who's parents always get them what they want seem genuinly shocked when you tell them that, heaven forbid, you're paying for this yourself.
Money makes the world go round, as they say.
I wish the world would stop, quite frankly.

I'm use to cooking and cleaning, as Mum has always been insistent that we learn how to fend for ourselves from a young-ish age.
I thank God every day she did, because it's starting to seem that I'm one of the few teenagers out there who can actually cook and work a washing machine.
However, teachers and parents are pushing us so much I think I might break.
They both mean well; teachers want me to reach my potential and parents just want me to be happy.
I just wish they knew that at school I get the same stuff as I do at home.
That's the thing about me, the one thing you can do that will make you want to punch you into next week is keep repeating something at me.
I know my results say otherwise, but I'm not f*cking stupid.
Nagging at me, or telling me in six new and exciting ways you want me to empty the dishwasher will only piss me off.
If someone says "Emily, I need you to put a new load of washing in", I will do it. Well. I will if it's my mother.
What doesn't need to happen is that every five minutes I'm told a certain aspect of how to wash clothes.
I've been doing it for years, I think I can handle it.

Repetition just makes me angry.
There is no other way around it.
Anything said to me more than say, twice that doesn't have some kind of significance will only make me hate you.


I'm sorry that turned into an epic rant, but I've been getting so riled recently I figured I'd use this space and time to get it out of my system.
Hopefully next time I'll have something meaningful to talk about.

Emilé

Quote of the day:
The silicone chip inside her head gets switched to overload
And nobody's gunna go to school today she's gunna make them stay at home
I don't like Mondays - The Boomtown Rats

Ladies and Gentlefolk

As one idea fails, I'm straight onto another.
I have a hand full of friends who are also into this blogging nonsense, and whom I think are lovely.
I may then start allowing guest spots etc on my blog, so it's not just me boring you 24/7.
Give me a shout if you're interested so I can see how to go about this...

Sorry for such a short post, but it's now up to you guys!

OH ALMOST FORGOT.

I have a formsprings account.
It's like an online Q&A, except you can ask completely anonymously, and I have to answer truthfully.
Well...as truthfully as I want really, it's not like the police are gunna monitor what I say.
So, feel free to ask away!
http://www.formspring.me/emilyjanesfb
And I mean anything
I'll answer. Honest.

Quote of the day:
"Oh baby, I'm beating out a samba!"
Cassandra in the Doctor's body