Apology

Okay, so I haven't posted every day. I'm sorry. In my defence, I've had valid reasons not to. On Tuesday I played football after school, Wednesday was rugby so I was knackered when I got home, Thursday I went to McDonalds after school and Friday I was lazy. In fact I spent the whole of Friday at home, so really lazy. Thought I'd get quite a bit done that day. I didn't.

Last Sunday I went out for lunch in Hampstead with my parents. Naturally, it was not a flawless outing. We'd been waiting about 45 minutes for our food, so my dad decided to complain. Food came pretty quickly after that, although my burger wasn't too good. I think it had spit in it. Then went for a walk, stopped by at an art gallery for some bizarre, bizarre reason. Actually, it wasn't that bizarre, it was because there was this replica of a statue in Bond Street with Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt sitting on a bench called 'Allies', and my mum and dad were both arguing over whether the actual statue was in New Bond Street or Old Bond Street, respectively. Turned out that we were related to the owner of the gallery. Well, I say we, but my dad wasn't. He just flirted with the manageress, who also happened to be related to us, which does mean that she was also related to the owner. She seemed a bit dozy so probably only got the job because of the aforementioned relation. I hate it when that happens. Anyway, she got out this pamphlet about the statue, and it said that it was in New Bond Street, but then my dad asked if he could look at the computer and managed to prove that both the pamphlet and my mum were wrong, so that really made his day. Then as my mum and the manageress caught up on family matters, my dad asked me what I thought one of the paintings was of. He said that he thought it was of Ellis Island, I said it was Grand Central Station in New York. He then asked the manageress if it was of Grand Central, and she said yes and was very impressed with his knowledge of American landmarks. He of course failed to point out that I'd in fact told him that it was Grand Central, and when I mentioned it no one of course believed me. My family's like that; a bit old fashioned, doesn't think that you're worth listening to until you're 21. Shame we don't speak to them much. Doesn't matter though, I know that I proved him wrong and damaged his pride, and that's what counts.

On the way home we drove down this road with some massive houses, and every now and then my dad would look up and say "Relative 1 lives there" or "Guess which relative lives in that house". So, from this brief outing, I learnt that I have lots of rich relatives with either huge houses or their own art galleries. My family is not rich. I therefore came out of the experience feeling that life really hasn't been very fair to me, which was compounded by the discovery that my full name doesn't fit on my birth certificate. Was lying around the house because it had just arrived back from the DVLA after being sent off to get my provisional driving license, and my surname's actually been written above the rest of it because they couldn't get it on the line! Did my parents not think that maybe my middle names were a bit over the top?! They never gave me a chance.

Football on Tuesday wasn't as fun as it could have been. Played with two of Ben's mates, and they were pretty good. Both had mean shots and showed me up pretty comprehensively when we were just shooting from distance, although to be fair to myself, it was pretty dark and near impossible to even see which part of the ball I was hitting without my glasses on. That's right Adam, it wasn't your fault. Probably suffered a bit from trying too hard as well. Beat both of them playing World Cup though. I'd like to think it's because I was just too skillful for them, although it's more likely that they just couldn't tackle and I can. Suffice to say, I left them for dead on a number of occasions and they struggled to get past me, so redeemed myself slightly. Went home around 7:30 to let Wayne Rooney show me how it's done. To use Racist Ron's favourite word, he was phenomenal, but it did piss me off the way the ITV commentators kept praising everything he did. Makes simple pass - "Brilliant pass from Rooney!"; blazes shot over crossbar - "He might have missed the target, but look how close it was!" (not very); runs around in circles - "Excellent movement from Rooney!" Just CALM DOWN, before you make me hate him just to bring some balance into the world.

Continuing on a sports related theme, I think that rugby on Wednesday may have been the final straw. I've always been short and slight, but I thought that I'd grow and eventually get to having a similar build to most of the other rugby players. I've definitely grown upwards, but I've weighed 8 and a half stone for the last three years, so I'm just getting thinner and thinner and less suited to the game. My current tackling ability paid testament to this. I made around 2 in 10, with guys from the year below just running straight through me. I've always based my whole game on tackling! If I ain't got that, then I ain't got much, and I ain't got nothing, nothing (to semi-quote Brit rockers A). Felt like I was falling apart afterwards as well. Physically, not mentally, for a change. Couldn't really practice the guitar after that, so my teacher told me that guitar players shouldn't be playing rugby. Hopefully my coach will see that as a valid reason not to play anymore. How likely that is after he didn't see my weight issue as being a valid reason though, I don't know. Let's just say... not very likely.

Thursday proved that my school is retarded. Apparently my personal statement is too long (it wasn't too long whilst it was being checked over the course of two weeks, just now that I've submitted it electronically). Since I've submitted it electronically, I had to go and see the school careers secretary to get her to 'unlock' it. Which she did. Sadly, she also managed to delete it from the school network, so it wasn't really of much use to me. I now have to wait until Monday for it to get sorted, which means my application will go through later, which means that my already poor chances of getting some decent university offers have now taken a further dent. Thank you school.

Seeing as I didn't have any school on Friday, decided to go to McDonalds with Mehul and Saj/Sanj at the end of the day. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but I have to get off the coach before my stop, then it's kind of hell getting home. After I said I was going, Yin and Tuna also decided to go (I'm such a trailblazer). Had a McChicken Premier for the first time. Bit of an anti-climax really. The chicken was very dry and I got some of the relish/mayonnaise mix on my suit. Also, Mehul stole some of my chips :(. Disappointing. Tried to climb over a wall afterwards. Couldn't. Even Mehul could. This is what rugby is doing to me. Soon after, we all went our separate ways and me and Mehul got the train. Timed it nicely so we got on at the same time that the late coach from my school arrived, so we ended up on the train with one of my teacher's, Mr Bass, and some old Habs boy he was with. In fact we ended up on the same carriage, so just walked straight through, got off and got on the next one. As we walked by, I heard Bass say "There's two current Habs boys," to which the former student replied "They just ignored you." That had me in hysterics, so I told Mehul, who was walking through quicker and therefore hadn't heard, and we laughed most of the train journey away.

Got off at Kingsbury, walked home. A 183 bus stopped by me near the beginning of my journey, which also stops right outside my house, but I couldn't find any money at the first delving into my pocket, so allowed it. Soon regretted the decision as I realised that the journey had actually gotten longer since the last time I'd done it. Or maybe I'd just forgotten how long it was. It did give me a chance though to realise how much closer to my house Queensbury Station is than Kingsbury Station, so I probably should have gotten off there. In fact Kingsbury Station probably isn't that much closer to my house than Stanmore Station (after taking into account the time spent on the train from Stanmore to Kingsbury, if that makes any sense whatsoever), so I might as well have walked the whole way home from McDonalds. Oh well, it's not as if I can't afford to waste a couple of quid on a train ticket. It's my parents' money, after all. Plus, I felt like the walk. Sometimes it's nice just to have some time to myself to listen to some music. Long train journeys are great for that. So anyway, to sum up, I learnt from going to McDonalds both that the McChicken Premier isn't that nice and that Queensbury Station is closer to my house than Kingsbury Station. Quite enlightening.

My birthday's on Tuesday (yay, I think), but my dad already seems to be doing his best to try to ruin it. My last few have been pretty depressing, so I wanted to make sure that I really enjoyed this one. Was going to go out with just a few of my closest friends on Saturday night, but my dad's gone and booked a table for the family at the same time. I asked him about moving the reservation to Friday night, but he was very unreasonable about it, so I kicked a chair. He's never really had any friends, so he probably can't appreciate what celebrating my birthday with them means to me, but he could at least try to be sympathetic. I really feel like I need this at the moment, just something good to get me through the rest of the year. Feels like I've got a blister on the outside of my big toe on my left foot as well, although whether this was there before I kicked the chair, I can't remember. Not even sure that I kicked the chair with my left foot. Could be an ingrowing toenail, but since I've never had one before, I don't know what that feels like, so wouldn't put money on it.

Was watching some music chart show on Channel 4 last night and they'd actually blanked out the bleep over the 'fuck' in Green Day's 'American Idiot'. Why? Does a bleep suggest a word that much more than a complete cut in the music does? It wasn't like this was for family viewing either, it was on at 2 o'clock in the morning. Truly censorship gone mad. Also, got another letter from Brent Mental Health Services today, just to confirm that I'm not going to have any more appointments with them. Interesting that they can remember to confirm that I'm not going to have an appointment, but forget to send one to confirm that I do have one. It wasn't even written in Comic Sans. I feel so unloved :(. Oh, and Spurs were shit. I know they won but they sounded bloody awful in doing so and extremely lucky to get all three points. Becoming quickly disenchanted with the Santini regime. Hope he can pull something special out the bag soon. Finally, I felt like cutting myself today, but that would have just been stupid, so instead I decided to cut my hair. However, I couldn't find any left-handed scissors, so I didn't get very far with it. I therefore suggest that kids are encouraged to cut their hair whenever they feel like self-harming. And all given wrong-handed scissors.