Ethereal Entity #19

Where: Downstairs on sofa

Listening to: TV – The ONE Show about discalculia

Tabs open: Facebook, SD chatroom, Twitter, BBC – ONE Show, Dyscalculia Symptoms

Programs open: Msn, Chrome

Okay so I’ve moved upstairs since I was going to start this. It’s quieter up here… and I wanted to play around with my new camera. Mum doesn’t know I have a new camera yet… She may or may not be told. I may hide it from her for a while. She’ll yell at me. I am fully aware that I shouldn’t throw money away… but it is so tempting… and my other camera broke and is not fixable. At two years old, it’s not been a bad camera. In fact, it’s been a bloody good camera, which is why I bought another Samsung. Admittedly I thought I’d broken it about a minute after I played with it and it blacked out, refused to come back on and had the lens stuck out… Turns out that it obviously hadn’t charged enough whilst I was out. I actually nearly had a heart attack. I mean it. It cost me enough money and to think it had broken I was inwardly distraught… like a cowboy not shedding a tear for fear of being weak. Okay. So I’m over exaggerating. Did you really expect any less? On a more serious note, it’s actually a really awesome camera. It’s the Samsung ST550 one in red and black with the two lcd screens and touch screen capabilities. I already love it. I’ll have to name it. I named my laptop so it would only be fair. It can be called Jeremy… probably mainly because I’ve been reading Kelley Armstrong’s ‘Stolen‘ lately and there’s a character called Jeremy in it. Plus, it kind of looks like a Jeremy.

On another note, I was awake until 6am this morning completing a ridiculous essay. Well, to be honest, the essay isn’t actually ridiculous but the fact that our module lecturer didn’t seem to know what she was doing and the essay titles didn’t really correspond to what we’d been taught made it ridiculous. The essay question I decided on was the one about an author and the influence of the time in which they grew up on their writing and how their work impacted on children’s literature. I chose Beatrix Potter. The title I devised was ‘A detailed consideration of Beatrix Potter’s works and their ensuing legacy within children’ s literature.’ I don’t think it was very good but right now I don’t care. It was the best I could do without very much guidance. Not that I’m blaming the lecturer on my own because everyone else taking that module was under the impression that she wasn’t very good either, which is kind of sad because I felt sorry for her. Nobody in the room really respected her opinion and quite frankly she gave us little reason to. Shame because she seemed quite nice as a person.

And Andrew McCluskey (NAL Games) will be happy that I’ve written this entry. I’ve left it two days and apparently he needs his fix. I don’t see why. My life is hardly that interesting. I just like to have a place to moan. Moaning is always fun. That might be because I’m unequivocally English, though. And everybody knows the English like to have a good long moan. Is it immature that I amuse myself with that double entendre? You’re probably nodding your head and saying, “Yes Rebecca. It’s very immature.” I’m hoping you’re also saying, “But we still love your crazy little self.” And, just a note, I’m not little. I’m 5’5… That makes me pretty average… Yeah, having three brothers hasn’t made me self-conscious about my height at all. Still, I’m taller than my mum so it’s alright.

I think I’m going to take my special eyes out and go feed my cats, actually. By special eyes, I don’t mean I have fake eyeballs I put in to convince the world I can see when really a shark tore them out when I was three and on my daddy’s boat. My dad doesn’t even have a boat… and I don’t think I’ve ever called him ‘daddy’. My special eyes are my contact lenses and after a long day, they’re beginning to annoy me. They’re not as difficult as I thought they were going to be. They actually feel like you have an eyelash in your eye for a few minutes when you first put them in, but then they settle down and you forget that they’re there… which can be a bad thing. You don’t want to fall asleep in them, for instance. My brother did last night. He was telling me that they restrict oxygen to your eye and you could go blind. He was panicking at the time as he usually does. He’s quite a fierce hypochondriac. I believe that that could happen but I’d guess that was if you left them in longer than he did. Oh well.

Anyway, Smokey (that’s the cushion/teddy-obsessed cat) wants his dinner. So I’ll tie this off and write again soon. Goodnight world!

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