Steph Actually Has An Idea!

For the second blog of today, I actually have an idea! I'm going to look at the titles of all of April's blogs, and write whatever comes to mind when I first read it. I thought it might be quite fun.

"Blog Every Day in April", Half Term, and Books - Such a long time ago!
I can't resist a challenge, okay?! - Some things never change.
Google Fail - Haha! I remember that!
Sherlock Holmes: Film Review - Wow. That was a great movie.
Home For Christmas: A Short Story - Still proud of that! Squee.
My Childhood: Part One - Headdesk.
Dribble Drabble - I need to get an idea for todays ...
My Childhood; Part Three - Headdesk.
Star Whales are Pwetty -They are, indeed, quite cute
We'll run away together, spend some time forever - WEEZERRR!!!
So forgive me, my darling, we all have impossible dreams - ALEX DAY!!!
My Muse Has Gone on Holiday - The cheek of her!
Tooth Fairy, I've Got One For You! - Oh, there's a surprise.
Maybe I'll wake up for once - I do like my lay-ins.
How old are YOU? - Thirteen, last time I checked.
Britain's Got Talent - I know it does. I'm in it. XD
Tardis bang bang, Daleks BOOM! - Haha. Good episode.
I Got Me Some Tardis Self-Destruct Buttons - I want to get me some more of those.
An Insight to Offline Happenings - God, that sounds boring.
Imma Be a Busy Bumble Be - Imma Imma Imma Be.
He had a one-hand feel on the steering wheel... - *groan* I just got that song out of my head.
Awful TV Shows - There's a lot of those.
Not if you're going on a bear hunt! - Haha. Gotta love those inside jokes.
Goldie's Back! - Hand me a Rememberall.
Why is YOUR day awesome? - Because the fiveawesomegirls are, well, awesome.
Aichmophobia - Evil needles.
Together we'll discuss HTML and C++ - Womanizer, womanizer, womanizer, womanizer.
Sadly, he has much to learn - Selfish brat.
You're in a jammy situation - That was a really crappy pun.

So, that wasn't fun at all, but oh well. Happy April 30th, people! BEDA you next year, me thinks.

You're in a jammy situation.

So, here we are, the last day of April. I'm going to making two blogs today, the second one will come in a couple of hours, so that I have 30 blogs throughout April, so it's like those first few days before I decided to do BEDA will count. It's going to be so weird, not having to blog everyday. I've enjoyed BEDA, even though I complained about being too tired or museless to post a decent blog. But, heyho, at least I've managed to post an actual blog everyday since I decided to do BEDA. I've said BEDA way too much these past few sentences, but oh well, let's just go with it.

That's not the only thing that's going to be weird, though. In eight days, Dribble Drabble will be over. In three months, I won't be in Year Eight any more. In four and a half months, I will officially be a Year Nine. And the fact that I still don't have braces and I'm nearly in Year Nine is just ridiculous because I really need them and you just don't see Year Nines walking around with messed up teeth. It just doesn't happen. Ugh. Headdeskheaddeskheaddesk.

I know this blog is going to be really short, because I have three and a half hours left, and there are things that I want to do before such time, like pack my bag*, sort out my money**, update on Fanfiction.net, write up the other blog, and such. So, yes, that is a lot to get in done in three and a half hours. I'm going to leave you with this photostill of Matt Smith that I have yet to turn into an icon, yet ...

Beware the wrath of the JAMMY DODGER!! Dundundunnnn! Speaking of which, I had some of them the other day. Oh, and speaking of Doctor Who, I'm going to miss it tomorrow, so I'm going to watch last Saturday's AND tomorrow's on iPlayer on Sunday. I also need to catch up on two weeks of Neighbours, and homework. Thank Merlin it's not going to be a BEDA day on Sunday, eh? Haha.

Keep blogging!

*Sleeping round Jess's house tomorrow!
**Going to the city centre with Kelly, Sasha, Mitch and possibly Deckel tomorrow, before staying round Jess's.

Sadly, he has much to learn.

Basketball finals were today, and what did I get? A temper, an insult, and unnecessarily sore leg muscles. Oh, and an idea for my Dribble Drabble, but I'm sort of trying to make this angsty. So ... sssshhh.

Before we'd even left our campus, I knew that we were in murky waters.Our fifth member, Lottie, backed out at the last minute, telling us that her mum wouldn't let her go (we have to get permission because it's leaving school grounds, and it's after school hours). Because Lottie was in, none of our reserves had permission slips, so one of them couldn't tag along with us. One player down - this wasn't a good start. I sat next to Shannon on the coach, and other than a bit of travel sickness, I was alright, nervous but confident.

It was my second time at the other school campus, and I loved it more than the first time. Because it's newer, it looks so much better than my campus. It's really clean and bright and friendly, while my campus is grubby and dull. Now, I'm not always a fan of bright "LOOK AT ME!" things, and I like old stuff, but I really do like their campus better than ours. ANYWAY ... when we entered their sports hall, I just got a gut feeling that something would go wrong, and we'd lose. Nothing really "went wrong", as such, but we definitely lost.

You see, the best player on the team knows he's good as basketball, and he seems to think anyone who isn't as good as him isn't worthy of being on a team. He hogs the ball, and he seems to have something against Shannon and I, because he just wouldn't pass it to us. Even when we were open, with no one near us, and Callum - the fourth and final player on our team - was at the other end of the pitch, with people around him, James would still pass to Callum rather than us. Whenever we lost the ball, it was because James passed it to Callum and it got intercepted, or because James refused to pass it and someone ended up tackling the ball from him. By the end of the first game, which we lost miserably, I was furious. I'd only had the ball in my possession twice, and I hadn't even dribbled it, let alone got to shoot. Because people were surrounding me, I used my common sense and passed it.

We didn't get to play again until the very last game, which meant for the majority of the hour, we were sitting out, waiting for our next turn. Throughout which, I purposely sat away from James and Callum so I could rant angrily with Shannon about how out of order James was being. We're supposed to be a team. To be a team, you have to work together. James didn't seem to be able to grab that concept. When I wasn't ranting about James, Shannon and I were gushing over a really gorgeous guy who was refereeing the games, and a really cute guy who was taking pictures, from the other campus*. Is it just Shannon and I, or are the guys at that campus so much better looking than the ones at ours?

So, anyway, then our second and final game was about to start. As I walked onto the pitch, I said pointedly to James, "Try to pass the ball this time." And he did, which surprised me. I expected him to just ignore him. So, yes, he still hogged it, and I still didn't get the ball much (and when I did, I had to pass it again almost instantly), but at least he sort of took my words into consideration. Well, anyway, after that match - which we also lost - James said to me, "See, this is why I don't pass it to you! You can't catch!" I missed the ball once, and the way he said it, it was as if we was blaming me for losing the game, even though it was him who lost the ball most, and even though I did miss the ball, I managed to pick it up before the other team got it. He had no right to say that, and it just made me so angry. I was tempted to start a full-blown argument with him in the middle of the sports hall, in front of everyone. But I contained myself, because I don't like being in the spotlight.

If you follow me on twitter, you would have seen what I said about him. If not, I said: "If James learned how to share, we could have won. Sadly, he has much to learn." It was by text when I was on the coach, and I wasn't sure how many characters I had before the tweeting limit of 140. If I had some way of knowing, I would have said more, but there we go. Besides, I think those two sentences really cover all that needs to be said. James is like a little boy.

So, on the coach ride back, in between texting, gushing and eavesdropping, Shannon and I ranted about James and his selfishness again. When I got home, I ranted to my nan, then to my mum, then to my grandad (they all wanted to hear the story, and they were never in the room at the same time). Now, I'm ranting to you, blog readers. Thank you for listening this far ... or reading or ... yeah.

Most of my anger seeped out when I was catching up on my YouTube subscriptions, which I'm still in the process of doing. I had three and a half pages, each with twenty videos on, but now I'm on the last page! Hoorah!

In lighter-but-still-basketball-related news, there was a guy from the other campus with 60's hair. It looked so funny. Shannon and I kept giggling whenever he walked past ... it didn't help when we had to play against him, though. He bumped into me, too, but I could only see his neck because he's so tall and I was too disorientated from the bump to look up... if I did, though, I would have giggled. He looked so ridiculous.

Now, I'm going to write out my Dribble Drabble after forcing myself to copy, paste and edit some information about lightning charges for Viper's** Science class, that I have to hand in tomorrow. Blehhh. I hate his class. My other Science class is so much better.

Anyway...
Keep blogging!

*They looked around our age, as well, for the record. They volunteered to help out. Although the one taking pictures might have been Year 7 (or he just hadn't hit puberty yet... he wasn't small, as such, but he was smaller than us).
**His name isn't Mr. Viper, for the record. It's Mr Piper, but his first name starts with a V, and so I call him Mr Viper, because he's horrible and irrational.

Together we'll discuss HTML and C++ ...

Aichmophobia is the fear of sharp and/or pointy things, like needles, knives and - if it's really bad - even sharpened pencils. I suffer from it, but not to the pencil extent (though, after my baby cousin unintentionally stabbed my arm with a pencil and made me bleed, I've been a little less comfortable around them). Yesterday's blog was a little, very real story (that I actually used for Dribble Drabble yesterday, too) about my third and final - yes! - cervical cancer jabs. Needles. Terrify. Me. As do things like knives and other pointy/sharp things. Understandably. But I mean, my fear is, well, pretty insane. I didn't start cutting up my own food until I was, like, nine because I didn't want to touch a knife. Even now, I still find myself jumping when the knife slides across the plate or whatever. They're horrid, horrid things. I didn't want to post anything with the story; I was afraid of ruining the mood and stuff, so I just left it as it is without explanation. I kind of freaked one of my friends' out, because she read it on KWC, and she's having the vaccinations next year. Sorry, Eternity! ... Even though I don't think you read this xD

Moving swiftly on...

My form has Interform Finals for basketball tomorrow, and I'm a bag of nerves*. Interform is something my school does at the end of every term. Each year has set sports, one for girls, one for boys, one mixed. For example, this time round, it was girls' football, boys' hockey and mixed basketball. I was with basketball. We sort ourselves into a team for each sport, and then we play against other forms in our year. Whoever comes first and second goes into the finals, where we play against people from South school and from the other campus**. We played before Easter half-term, and we came first. Alas, we're in the finals.We're playing on the other campus, and we miss the last lesson (which is English with the decent teacher. Damn). I'm so scared that I'm going to let the team down. I mean, it's not like I'm bad at basketball. Quite the opposite, actually. And I love it with all my heart; I don't even let asthma stop me playing (I usually take advantage of my asthma to sit out during sports xD). But I'm almost shaking at the thought of letting the team down.

On a random final note, I highly suggest you check out the VenetianPrincess Parody of Womanizer. You'll love it more if you're a nerd, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it even if you're not. VenetianPrincess is amazing, and even more awesome because she's signed to DFTBA. Over the past few days, I can't stop listening to this song. Even though I first heard it ages ago, the song and I didn't click together until recently. Heh.  

Together we'll discuss HTML and C++.
Uh huh.
Womanizer womanizer womanizer womanizer.

Keep blogging!

*I originally typed "I'm a bag of nerds." there. Nerdiest typo ever xD
** Our school is divided into two parts; North and South. Although we share the same campus, we don't have the same classes or anything. There's no specific "area" for North and South. It's just a way of categorizing. I'm in North. And we have two campuses, because when it was one school there were over 3000 students (Now, we have 2000 students at my campus). The other campus is about twenty minutes away by coach.

Aichmophobia

I sit in the chair nervously, my stomach flipping, my breathing unsteady and my heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. I keep my eyes straight ahead, staring through the window as I bite my lip. The lady asks questions and I reply in monotone, the answer coming to me as if I were in autopilot. She makes a joke to try and lighten the situation as she cleans the skin on my bare arm, but I don't even smile. The nerves are almost unbearable. My legs bounce as she continues to talk, my senses inhumanly alert. I hear her shuffling things around on the desk behind me and I screw my eyes shut, my body automatically tensing. She makes me relax my muscles, and I force them to stay that way, searching my mind frantically for a distraction as the moment draws closer. I feel like crying, like screaming at her to stay away from me. I can feel myself start to tremble as she stops talking, and I clamp my feet to the floor, trying to make my body as still and relaxed as possible.

When I feel a light stinging in my arm, I know it's happening, and I'm petrified. My mind won't create a distraction; all I can think about is the feeling in my arm. The stinging lessens to almost nothing, but then returns. It's not enough for me respond to it, though knowing what has caused the sting makes me want to tense and jerk away. I don't, though, knowing it'll be over with soon enough.

And then it's gone. I feel her put pressure on my arm where the stinging had been, and I know it's the cotton ball they use to slow the bleeding. I let out a shaky breath I didn't realise I had been holding, keeping my eyes closed. I didn't want to open them just yet, not while the thing could still be in view. She asks me to hold the cotton while she fills out the paperwork, so I instinctively bring a hand round and press against the cotton. There's a slight ache, but I know it'll fade within a matter of minutes. It happened last time.

I risk a glance over my shoulder, focusing on the pen moving across the paper as she fills it in, not allowing myself to look at the other contents on the desk. I'm still trembling, my heart is still racing, and I just want to get away. She smiles and tells me that it wasn't so bad, as adults do when they want to reassure you, and I laugh shakily, cursing myself internally when tears spring into the corners of my eyes. I turn my head away and blink until the tears retreat. She takes the cotton away from my arm and tries to put a plaster on it, but can't see the wound. It's already stopped bleeding. Despite my unsettled stomach, I look at my arm and point out the small pierce in the skin wordlessly, not trusting my voice.

As I stand, I walk carefully, my legs unstable. I try to tell myself that it's alright, that it was the last vaccination I'll be having for cervical cancer, that it's all over now and I won't have another needle near me for a long time. But knowing the needle came so close, close enough to pierce my skin and send dead cancer cells into my bloodstream, is enough to keep me in a state of near tears and walking on unsteady feet for the rest of the day. I put on a brave face, smile and say it didn't hurt much. My friends know that I hate needles, but they have no idea just how aichmophobic I am. I don't intend on letting them know any time soon.