Princess, Summer, A Mild Bus Induced Concussion.

Huzzah, peoplefolk. I'm back. You see, I have been a-boating around Norfolk, and sunbathing on top of a blue boat called 'Princess.' It was a lovely holiday, aside from the dodgy plumbing and some sailing tit that almost tacked into me. But, otherwise beautiful, and relaxing. The perfect place to see that your ex has moved on to a girl you were supposedly close to. But I'm not bitter... the twofaced little...ergh. A week and a half, brah? Seriously?
Mah.
Anyways, school is over for the summer. I have a lot to do this summer though, history and spanish stuff, art coursework, all my German coursework (since school doesn't offer it, I'm doing it by myself), repainting the shed, seeing my friendly-types, seeing the familiars in Cornwall, looking at youth conferences perhaps...The point is, I have a lot to do. Oh, and I need to get a job, unless it turns out that I won the lottery last night. HA. Yeah, no. I need to get a job.
You know how I always ask for funny stories and nobody ever complies? EVER?!
Well, I decided I would get the ball rolling, so as to speak. So, a little while ago, I was finding a double seat on the bus because Katie always sits with me. The only double seat was at the very front of the bus facing the rest of the passengers. So Katie took the window seat and I took the seat in the aisle. Turns out that the bus driver that day did not believe in slowing down around all the sharp corners. Turns out my balance really isn't very good.
I literally fell out of my seat. And I dived into the aisle as the whole bus watched on. That poor kid the other side.
Okay, your turn.
If you won't post it here, you can email me for blogging purposes at dafferslovesyou@gmail.com.
Love. Luck. Tea.

Daphne.

Dabble.

Thanks. Especially to Mama Dunford and Natalie, you beautiful women.
I don't feel less crappy than before, but putting pink in my hair, and acquiring braces for my boating shorts has been excellent distraction. Luckily I had a long phellytone call with my psychopathic friend Caitlin, and we cried, and laughed, and bitched, and cried, and laughed. It was nice. Damn, I love that little weirdo.
Without going into details of the last twentyfour hours, I just feel horrible about everything. I don't expect him to understand. I'll miss him.
But I'm giving up on humans.
Human emotions continue to confuse, and repulse me, so there's at least one thing that will never change. Also, my furry black pussies need homes this week. Doesn't the summer get better, and better?
Welcome to England: where it rains everyday, and the forecast doesn't matter. Huzzah!


Lieutenant George will walk again. Maybe.
There's just one last thing: dabble. Dabble, dabble, dabble. I really will miss that.

-Daphne.
NB: Tell me, do my posts ask more questions than they answer? I'm sorry about that. You get used to it.

I'm not in the mood.

Somebody please tell me something worth smiling about.
My boyfriend and I broke up today, and... how I feel is not within the confines of decent English usage. Even the sun sets in paradise, eh?
All those fairytales are full of Scheiße.
Sob. Guys...

~D.

Kittens, Independence Malarkey, Liberty.

Will nobody take my sweet, furry, black pussies?
PUSSY CATS.
I have three little kittens that need homes, peoples. Cute, black, fluffy balls of sleepy, cuddly, playful joy. And cat litter. So, if you happen to be after a kitten, or know somebody who can give them a good home, please, please let me know. I'm not allowed to keep all four, so I have to find homes for three. Please, poeplefolk, you have to go about and advertise. But, obviously, in England. Or Wales, if you want to go that far. But, humans, I'm serious. I need help. Comment if you can do anything for me, or reach me through any way you can.
Faaaanks.
So, a happy 4th of July to you American readers. I say that like I actually have American readers. I think I have one at least, so it's fine. Happy 4th of July! Usually I spend this day being sarcastic in the rain about Americans. But I do that most days. You know, it's not too late to change your minds about this independence malarkey. But if you're particularly set on spending today being overly sentimental about fireworks, please go ahead.
Alas, my Britons, I must offer our American cousins something for their...special day. Heh.
Dearest America,

  ('Memebase')

Happy 4th of July!

With love,
Daphne.

Pentacles, Catch 22, Bookface.

Evening, people. If it interests you to know, I dropped my pentacle in Pepsi. While the whimsical alliteration amuses me, the notion is still irritating. Although, it's supposed to be a good silver cleaner/polisher, so I guess I can't complain.
I can't tell you what's on my mind. Mainly because I don't really know to tell you. And also because I don't think you really mind so much. It's been a draining week, purely because I haven't had half as much academic stress as I've grown comfortable with. I don't like it. It means I have spare time to waste thinking, and whatnot. When I start thinking about my own personal affairs, I do tend to doubt the most important parts. I work better under pressure. Don't chill me out like this. So, anyway, I've taken up reading again, so as to further my vocabulary, and seem well read. HA. I'm reading Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, which I say to be one of the two best books ever written. The other is The Camomile Lawn, by Mary Wesley. Catch 22 can't be done justice by my explanation, but give me a chance, guys. It's the perfect way of catching the insanity of war in a light hearted, but also quite touching way. So, so funny, and very sad in parts. It must be, along with The Camomile Lawn, my favourite book ever written. And I hereby command you to read it. Put it on your list of "Things to do to make me loved by Daffers." Jolly good, chaps.
Knackered. So knackered. What else can I tell you? I'm really only writing because 'Big Brother' on channel whatever is doing my head in, and my thoughts are still all over the place- much as they have been all week, and will most likely continue to be for the foreseeable future. Sorry you have to put up with me. I'd really like some suggestions for things I can do. Or hilarious, embarrassing stories. As I've previously mentioned, I won't put ALL of them on Bookface.
Love. Luck. Tea.

-Daphne.

Dedication, Soldiers, and My Middle Finger.

So, I said I'd blog tonight. And here I am. Even I amaze myself with my constant application and dedication. Heh.
So, this week has been sort of cloudy in any sense. Actually, last weekend was amazing. 'Maiden Newton At War' is always the best part of two years. Trundled around with a few friends, all of us dressed up in my forties gear, and me in my Navy uniform. Usually wolf whistles and being stared at by strange men would freak me out, but I was weirdly okay with it. It was a good laugh, and we watched them doing drill, and re-enact battles, and sit around being... men in uniform.
And Saturday night was so good. Loads of music, and people dancing. There was one particularly nice young man that I danced with, while his crazy friend took my friends for a whirl around the floor. But I forgot to ask his name...I know. I'm the height of intelligence. But I do know that he's 21, and is a car salesman, which he says, makes him the second most hated man- next to estate agents.  We swapped hats! Man, I want a hat like his. And it was all just a good laugh.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday have been far from perfect. I'll be okay. My friend, although a bit of a hop-head, once said "Everything is alright in the end. If it's not alright, it's not the end."
So, when life gives me lemons, I'm going to give them back with my middle finger.

Love. Luck. Tea.

Exams, Piercings, and Sour Invigilators.

Good evening, children. Do play nicely.
I expect that's what Mr. Speaker tells the House of Commons.
Anyway, how are we? Please do answer this question, it's not rhetorical. I do like to hear about misadventure, embarrassment, and hilarity- so anything you've got, know you can put it out there, this is a supportive, encouraging atmosphere. So I won't post all of it on Facebook. Promise.
Today I did my final Latin language paper. I hope it was supposed to be that easy, or the examiner won't appreciate that big doodle of a ship sailing across the page. Personally, I thought it was inspired, but the sour little  invigilator was giving me stern looks, so I had refrain from fishies and mermaids under the water. Buggery. And a maths exam. The less said the better. I may be an A student, but that bloody paper killed my soul a little. And art. So much paint, so much carnage.
Mah, today I kept answering my Spanish teacher in German. Do you have any idea how irritating not being able to find the right words in the right language is? Sometimes I accidently write in Latin in French, and French in English, and Spanish in German. It's a pain. But I must know ALL the languages. I must.
So, I got a second set of studs (little peace signs) in my ears. They're pretty cool, except I can't touch them without inducing a world of torture amongst my ear lobes. I paid twenty squids for these, they better work, or I WILL return them. I don't care what the bedecked, and bejewelled  lady shoving steel through my flesh with a gun says.
Wish me luck for my literature papers, Wednesday and Friday.
Love. Luck. Tea.