The Curtains Are Twitchin'

That white light. The one that wakes me, the one that dances upon my desk. The white light that gleams through the gaps of the venetians. Knowing that there are possible hundreds of people experiencing that white light every morning does not make it any less special. It just makes it more magic. It makes me smile. First smile of the day, sometimes the only smile of the day. That one fragment brightens my mood. It's something about the way it looks. It looks like hope and belief and all those childhood fairytales shooting through the folds. Like some crack occured in the big red-brick wall of reality and fantasy. It makes me think and treasure. Maybe we don't have to be serious all the time. Maybe we can lose ourselves in 'mights' and 'maybes' for a moment. If you block out that tiny four year old who believed in fairies and Santa, you'll go insane. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Getting on high on life doesn't make you a stoner, it just means you're not an annoying realist bitch.



Paramore last night at the O2. Motherfucking awesome. Like, unbelievably. We queued for four and a half hours, and people had travelled from Donegal, which is a six hour journey and then queued for 8 hours. I made some friends in that queue, exchanged numbers, made your mom jokes, got people to sing 'happy birthday' to Ash even though it was nowhere near her birthday. Singalongs of Misery Business and Ignorance. Freezzzinng, but I bagged a cig off some fella. And a light, obviously, otherwise it would be quiet pointless. Talked to this pretty blonde with astonishing eye make-up about her smoking weed in her garage. Beat some tall fittie at your mom jokes, then got a high five from him. Saw my tagged friend, Alex. Saw that Stitch bebo-fame kid. And he was the weirdest because he was wearing loads of foundation and judging by his bebo pics, FUCKLOADS of photoshop. And then these really nice people from Donegal gave us Haribo and she had a massive leopard print bow and he was camp and had an uncle in Celbridge. They pushed us all back in the queue three times even though people who'd only been there for an hour were at the front. Finally at 6.30, we were let in and omigod, I had this rush of adrenaline and we ran for the pit. I had this dare to meet a randomer or I had to meet Gareth Ronan as the forfeit, so I snogged this totally beautiful guy and then after went back for his number. We were like OMG LUCY'S LOVE LIFE WENT RIGHT but then he was from Mayo and that was major disappointment factor.



Now Now Every Children [pictured] played first, we ended up in a crowd of Celbridgians mates and mate's mates. NNEC were amazing. New found obsession. Sarah commented down there about them and I was like 'psshhh, they probably won't be that good' but wow. I still thought Paramore were better, but they have more experience too. Bought Cars, the album from Now, Now Every Children at the merchandise stand for a fiver at the Support Band interlude. Then I went off for a piss and missed the start of Paper Route, but I didn't really like them. FINALLLYYYY, YMA6 came on and the crowd went berserk. It was like a massive surge forward and everyone was jumping like loonatics. They played The Consequence from the new album out in January and then a pile of songs from Take Off Your Colours and some from their demo which surprised me. MMMM... Max looks adorable in person. After a break and a backdrop change, Paramore took the stage. Seriously, Hayley is teensy weensy. Like a hamster. And she jumped around like a retarded squirrel. She sounded kinda like a chipmunk too. Damn, she's just a small mammal altogether but she gave a great performance and it's kinda her character I guess. Josh was positively amazing, although he wasn't very connected to the audience.



Half way through the show, me and Missa took our shirts off and were just bobbing around in our bras. Too shmad like. Hayley welcomed us all to the family, which was undoubtedly a crowd-pleaser as it caused this insane uproar. They played Emergency and Crush Crush Crush, which were the second and third best songs of the set. And thennnnn after faking leaving the stage, they came back for an encore with Ireland jerseys and soccer balls for Misery Business and then Brick by Boring Brick with all the support bands [except YMA6, which I thought was pretty odd] jumping around. They then bid us adieu and ran off stage, leaving a high-decibel crowd behind in ecstasy. Okay, I admit, it obviously wouldn't have been everyone's cup of tea, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. When we originally got into town, me and Missa went on the ferris wheel and took pictures and talked to these Paramore-goers in the booth behind us. I took this one picture of the city that came out great, so I'mma put it up for y'all to see up there.



New phone on Friday because of an incident on Wednesday including me being stranded at a bus stop miles from where I live when it was dark, raining and late. It's the LG KS360, qwerty keyboard, fm radio, mp3 radio, 2mp camera with some nice exposure for a phone cam. I'm in love with it. Free twitter and texts. And it's so easy to do both with the keyboard. This morning I loaded it up with Feist, Bombay Bicycle Club, The Kooks, Bowie, Tegan and Sara and Now, Now Every Children. So it's the ultimate Lucy-device. I just read over this post and realized how annoying it is because I basically recorded the concert. Okay, skip that bit if you want. And just come down here or something? Well, I have to go off and study for six hours. Stupid christmas tests and education. I'd prefer to live uneducated.

Lucy
XX
COMMENNNTTTT

You don't have to worry, 'cause we're still the same band...

Hola, amigos.

Que-que-que-que paaahsa? (You just gotta know that song)...
Today was just that same key as always. Typico Monday where I spent the night before crying/doing homework/msning and wake up late and greasy and just smooth on some concealer and then my fringe is all horrible and stringy so I shove it back and walk around with my horrible bumpy forehead on display. Sexy, aight? Sooo, then I got this major lecture from my Irish teacher. I was going to stand up and tell her everything I ever thought of her, the stupid bitch, and it would've been worth the suspension. But of course, I pussied out. The times I actually should pussy out, I never do; Stupid hillbilly brain. I could be smart if it weren't so backwards. >.> Spent my weekend being lazy. Saturday went Dublin City for the first time with actual parental permissones. Saw Paranormal Activity [read below] and then went Penneys and bought mango shtuff for Kris-kindle. Bus home we drew funny pictures in the windows of people we know or dislike and I listened in on this couple beside us when Ash and Jemma musicked themselves up. They were talking about skinny-dipping and bra sizes and bulimic men. Quite amusing, what you hear on buses. I came home pretty damn early because dad was going on the lash and I had to take care of sister dearest. We watched HP & THBP. Which is one of favourite movies now because A) iz awesome and B) iz movie that I went to see when I went out with Danster fer first time. :3





Paranormal Activity is total and utter shit. I swear, I was either crying with boredom or from laughter, but not because I was scared. I admit, I did yelp once but that was because I was trying to decipher the chinese meal that Katie and Micah Sloane were eating and then 'RAWWH LOUD NOISE'. So I was just in shock. All they did was drink coffee, turn the cam off for sex, see a shadow, their door slammed, see a shadow, drink coffee, hear a noise, follow footsteps, see a shadow, be possessed, kill your husband, run away then put an FBI type message at the end telling the public that is was a work of fiction, because nobody wants a Blair Witch Project fiasco again. If I knew I'd be watching something that bad, I'd have never paid for it and gone off and watched Nativity instead which is what I was meant to see. Sad face because Nightmare Before Xmas 3D wasn't put in cinemas again this year. They had it for like 3 years in a row. I'd much prefer to see a classic Tim Burton than an incredibly low-budget demon-possession movie. And they make you think the demons after her, when really it's after him the whole time. Futt that shick, I highly recommend you not to waste your valuable time watching that.





I have this crazy insatiable urge to lose my virginity lately. Call me crazy, but I don't even care if it's with someone who 'respects me' anymore. It's like when you're 6 and somebody has the new Bratz shoes and their describing them and you're sitting in awe as they describe animatedly how it's the best thing since sliced bread. I'll fuck someone while they're drunk. Nobody fancies me so, ehm, only way anyway. Because I want my sliced bread. AHA just there Orphan finished downloading. Will watch with somebody soon. I don't watch horrors alone. It just makes me more miserable. Maybe I have S.A.D or something, but I've been feeling so down lately. Not shallow down but 'why do I have a life when there are hundreds of possible prodigy children dying in 3rd world countries?' down. It makes me think too hard, like when Lizzy gets the letter from Darcy in Pride & Prejudice. She is forced to think about who she is and how she is, her flaws and her inevitable mistakes. And after it, she sees real goodness. Genuineness, honesty, reality, trust. This year was my personal Darcy-Letter. I used to be shallow, proud. But now I don't care what people look like. It's how people are that I consider. I'm not a good person, but I'm a damn good judge.



Christmas in approx. 18 days. Woo woo, much. Am addicted to candy canes. Mother decided to buy me and my sis €2 boxes of 12 candy canes for our mates, and jesus, I'm already down to 7. Nom nom nom. The colours make me feel all festive. Attempting to do homework. Fail. I'm doing some French letter thing using online translators. Translators ftw. At the same time, am listening to 'creepy' space noises for Naddiesaurus. I have a feeling it's actually a screamer but there are only 30 seconds of it left. Okay, no, Jupiter literally just whirrs and swissshess. Fun times, eh? BTW, you lame people, one comment. Thanks much? That is just... grr. Y'all are Scrooges during Christmas, right? Don't be so stingy, spread the holiday cheer. I feel a mission coming on... >:]
- Reader's Mission 07-12-09:

• Comment Question of the Day (lolz, I feel like Shane Dawson or Michael Buckley) is what is your favourite part/thing about Christmas?
  
• Comment on at least 3 blogs today [and you can include mine, btw :3]

So, go complete your mission, oh lovely things. May not blog for another few days so comments build up or something. Love you guyssss.

LUCY
XX
COMMENTTTT


[ps. yes, I have been using smileys/retard speak/not very profound expressions but I'll stop when I don't need to cheer myself up...]

Hammers fall on all the pieces...

Good morning, Mr. WWW.
It is 8.47am. It's a Saturday morning, but it feels like a Sunday. I have to finish off my homework, but sod it, I would stop half way through a snog with Colin Farrell to blog. Hang on, I just lied. Sorry, but can you truly blame me? AAAAnyway, yesterday was fun. Made cookie monster cupcakes which were big hit. Nomnomnom. They were slightly more lilac than blue because I ran out of food colouring but meh. I forced Jemma and Ashling into going. They went but moped around all emo. You know how ironic it is to go 'I'm bored' in a room full of people? I bet those African children never say that (>.>). Over on Naomi's site, she posted Harry Potter when all the parts that said wand were now changed to willy. I swear I basically PMSL. It was taken from Facebook, the land of Pirate English and those weird secret quiz things that everyone answers a little toooo truthfully and then you pay your 50 coins and read their answers and it's like... 'Ehm, thanks, I'ma Go Die.' ( Harry Potter's Wand/Willy )







Got a snog last night. T'woo T'woo. Second year, but oh well. And then there was something that someone should've told me considering that someone told me something they should've told me last weekend. I feel so betrayed or something when people do that. And the topic itself upset me. Ahhh. This all sucks. Sad face. Ever get that feeling of nausea when you think of something that
upset you? When I went home, I felt like I needed to puke all over the place. I still do. And it's not like a stomach bug or anything, I know for a fact it's because of the thing. 'You treat me just like another stranger'; Speaking of Paramore, next Saturday at the o2. Something to look forward to and something to distract me and Missa. And then it's Christmas tests, then Mocks, then Junior Cert, then Christmas tests again, then Summer tests, then Christmas tests then Mocks then Leaving Cert, then college, then family then dead. Holy shit, my days are numbered at 14.







I walked around that room, smelling musky like stale B.O. and salt, the wooden floors spreading the expanse. The barred windows remarkably like a prison, the poker table set up. The stacks at the back like warehouse stock. But it's the people who catch my eye. They're all the same. The wemos with their weird hair and try-too-hard make-up, in stripey clothes and fat skinny jeans. The wannabes in their jeans, uggs and long sleeved tops, occasionally topped off with a scarf of some sort. The Guitar Dorks jamming away in the dark corner, wearing leather jackets or dress shirts. There are the people that nobody can name, in their normal clothes or Criminal Damage hoodies (at least the Dunnes Stores version). And then there's me, Jemma, Ashling and the rest of the guys. Guys don't tend to bunch off as much; It must be like 'Yo, you have a penis too!' and then they're all happy clappy no bitch zone. I was wearing my white t-shirt, my black high waisted puffball skirt with the white polkadots, my honey-coloured tights, my black patent heels. Jemma was wearing her signature emo hoodie-and-jeans combo. Ashling in her normal people clothes. Both still look better than everyone at youth club. It's as if they don't even try. I love you guys.




(I usually hate Trashley and Hairy-Kate but I like this pic. :P)



On a little social note, Gino is king of the Jungle! I would've preferred Justin to win but he was gone and damn, Gino D'accampo is like 'TAP THAT ALL OVER THE FLO'. Yayyy, Gino. I'd also like to thank someone this week, and she has already mentioned me in her latest blog but anyway....
Ahem...
I would like to thank Merissa George Genesis Cullen for being here for me. The phone calls, the movie days, the lesbian sex good clean fun. You have to be the best friend anyone could have. Beautiful, kind, funny, a listener and a talker. You are awesome-squared. I love chuuu, babes. Seal for Christmas, but we'll get a muzzle so it doesn't eat Tesco. Lulz.

Testing..
Major Tom,
Over and out.
LUCY
XX
(comment pleeease)

Short post, kk, my badddd.

I have spent a week not blogging apparently. Sorry for lull, I was made blog-redundant by my f-izzle-ather. Apparently, nicking his iphone in the middle of the night to talk to peeps on Bebo is bad behaviour. Lolz @ his sillyness. Not much has happened. Habit caught by parents, they grr'd at me then realized that it only made the problem worse. Was told to shape up or ship out of Honours maths, so I decided 'shape up' because I can be smart if I please, I'm just uber lazy. Merissa and Chris broke up. Efa and Breda are still together. Laura broke up with Tom. Spent Sunday with Missa, taking 37 pictures, watching Not Another Teen Movie and eating. Saturday, was forced into town with cousin. I felt showed up by her. She's all gorgeous and clear-skinned and brown haired and slim and D-Cupped. I was like 'KTHXIMAGODIE' and any time I turned my back, mummy dearest bitched about me to my cousin. Helloooo, ever hear of common ethics? It also meant I didn't get to say goodbye to Danny. Listening to Lenka. Mmmm, pretty singing.





Ever feel things slipping through your fingers? Like your grasping and tugging but they're falling through the cracks. Like all your dreams are melting. Over-dramatized but still. I used to care so much about people but they're fading like pencil, like all those promises are becoming quieter and quieter 'til they vanish. All the friendships. It's like Paramore: 'We were friends who stuck together, we wrote our names in blood...'. I miss being little and ignorant. Deaf to the insults, blind to the differences. We were all just kids. Okay, okay, I admit being a little put off by the one in the corner who smelled funny or the one with the wonky eyes, but all in all it was a great time. Now it's all superficial. I notice that when I wear my contacts to school and wash my hair, people go gaga over talking to me. When I'm greasy and glasses-ed, people laugh or talk about me behind my back. It's horrible, really. Shallow, shallow, shallow. And the way I dress does not make me a slut. >.> I just like looking skinnier than I am, kk? AHH. Pssh. I don't feel like blogging so this will most likely be fail. 6 comments. Not too shabby, but ehhrrrmm 58 followers. So that means 52 of you lazy sods aren't doing anything.

I feel the need to go. Cinderucy shall post tomorrow night.

Comment, Jizz, Bath towels.
LUCY
XX

We're falling faster than the stars....

I look in the mirror and I see a girl with streaky eyeliner, deep bags, bumpy skin and yellow teeth. The light hits her face and elongates her nose. The tears sparkle in her eyes like morning dew. The stale taste in her mouth of salt and the lump in her throat. She swallows, but it's still there. The lump. It sticks like glue. Then there's that feeling. Of anxiety, when you realize you've said too much and the person under the stairs has definitely heard something and might possibly tell. The night sky reminds me of the dark endlessness. How it all keeps going, a bottomless glass. No matter how bad you think things are, they'll still happen. No matter how much you punish someone, they'll still do it. And when you feel the shadow of a knife behind you, no matter how much you do to prevent the social catastrophe that's about to happen, it'll still plunge stiffly into your skin. Grey into ivory, crimson running cold. People are deaf to my reasons and arguments. Opinions are only true to the beholder. The cold linen is sliding on my back. Does any of this even matter anymore?



Everyone's all loved up; Tom and Laura got together, Fiona was already with Adam, Efa found herself this gorgeous lass, of course I can't mention a few other people but I don't need to. Point is I'm most likely to be one of the only single people on Christmas. I'll huddle up and watch Love Actually alone, on repeat, and cry. Especially when Snape cheats on his wife. That lovely wife who only ever tries to help. Cry cry. I feel horrible and nauseated. Stupid acne tablets practically make me puke. They've got this weird aftertaste of the sticky part of duck tape and brussel sprouts. Two things I hate with a flaming passion. Although, I don't usually eat duck tape. Unless I am ripping it with my teeth etc. It's like when people say that cheese tastes like ass, although they probably have never leaned over a person and bit a chunk out of their posterior. Went YC. It pretty much sucked. Picked up cousin from airport before that. She is gorgeous and I lurv her because she is awesome. She talks kind of like Stacey on X Factor but in a better way because she is totes best cousin ever. *dork face*.



Town tomorrow with cuz and sis. Will probably trawl the vintage shops like.. Kate Moss or Sienna Miller and be all like *swish flick*. Not a clue what to wear. Possibly ripped jeans, black wedge boots, t-shirt and black coat. Might not bother showering tomorrow. Will probs just straighten hair and fluff it up. Am all excited. Because I can go Starbucks, like I did in the airport. Caramel Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream is total winter warmer imho, so go and invest, meladeez. Ehm ehm, I have nothing to talk about really. Life is in monotone, monocolour. I need my Prince/ss Charming to come and save me and turn my life technicolour like Oz. 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home'. I want to keep my ruby slippered un-clicked and I shall never utter those words. My wings are clipped, but I wish they werent.

COMMENT
LUCY
XX

Money can't buy you back the love that you had then...

The dark envelopes the scene from my window. Trees painted black with night, struggling against her great arms. The floodlights from the garden centre next door illuminate the moss-eaten wall like a reading lamp, so I can see the chapters of it's life and the binding that's falling apart. Rabbits flit, like tiny cars on a green motorway, like tiny baseball players. The stone path reminds me of the Irish beaches, the tiny fragments unattractive and loud. Mountains, black as ink, are vaguely visible. Indigo-charcoal skies swallow them. The whirring of my laptop kisses my ears, welcome compared to screaming and shouting that usually is audible in my home. The faint mumbling of the kitchen television. Life's good. When I think about those down-and-outs, sitting alone on the street with 3 hessian blankets and a McDonalds coffee cup filled with gleaming coppers, it makes me think about existance. Why are we here? Will we ever know? I think that maybe we find out the minute we pass on, that it all just clicks in our brain and we know. But we're gone already, so it doesn't even matter.

School today. Decided against showering because I hadn't done my history homework. I swear, what the hell was I thinking? Consequences of World War II essay over silky, salon-style hair. Fuckloads of homework. It's a teacher's strike tomorrow, they obviously have misplaced it within their minds as a 3 month holiday of some sort. I'm not allowed to breathe fresh air and talk to human beings until it's all done. I physically can't do the maths. When the fuck in my life am I ever going to need to know functions and algebraic graphs and square roots? I'm going to be a writer, remember? Not a fucking mathematician. I just sat there drawing umbrellas and pools of blood on my notebook all day with my crap skin, greasy hair, and glasses that make me look like an oxygen-starved goldfish. Jesus, if I had to go outside looking the way I do in school, I'd be in screaming hysterics. AHHHHHHHH. And I'd have no friends because Lucy with glasses totes drives people away.



I got back to Gaia. New Account is Liars And Lighters. Yes, you YMA6 fans, is totally first album inspired. My old name is Suicide Skank and I just realized how stupid it is. I'm a total n00b. I just have green skinny jeans, gentleman grey waistcoat, ruffled red tank, grey high tops, skunk plushie and machete. And that little flower that's all encrusted. I'm not one for questing, so I'm just saving up for new hair by forum-fagging and doing jigsaws. Ah, the GD; it's my home. It's like me: constant dirty joke thread, always babbling with romance, hatred of Twilight. Happy days, cyberworld, happy days. Discovered Tegan & Sara, Bombay Bicycle Club and Broken Social Scene. zOMG totally addicted already. I've spent 2 days just humming along to the flowing acoustics and throaty vocals, mesmerized by the quiet drum beats lulling me into a hypnotic trance. It's like I've died and gone to heaven, a spiritual awakening even. Music, the beauty, eh?


I shall go now. Because I'm weird. Actually, am in intense msn conversation with Jemma. I love that girl, even if she's a crazy drunk.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

But they never make it past my mouth...

Walking back from the Bus Stop last night. The one just past the graveyard. I remember it all so clearly because I was having a sensual overload. The wind was like ice, lashing at my face, pulling at my clothes; But I pushed past it, with my teeth tugging on my lip because the only visible light was the hundred-thousands of headlights twinkling like lost stars. I do my best thinking when I'm alone. Okay, okay, yes, everybody does. But I mean, totally alone. Like, nobody near me, nobody able to interrupt me. I just kept walking and watching the moon illuminate the puddles and the trees swaying in the graveyard. Things get out of control once every while. Like you just need it to slow down so you can take it all in. I found myself fancying the ass of three people as I walked home, but I knew exactly which one makes me the most happy, which one bothers answering my texts, which one hugs me and I feel like I shouldn't ever let go.





Of course, those factors made it obvious who I really liked. In Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte Lucas, an intimate acquaintance of Lizzie, has the theory that marriage is for security and love comes with luck. I used to think it was totally atrocious, but while I was thinking about everything last night, I realized in terms of nowadays that it makes a lot of sense. For example, you feel you are in love with 2 different people. You like 1 a lot more than the other, but the feeling isn't mutual and they never spend time with you. You like 2 a little bit, but he likes you back, and he gives you the time of day. Should you pine over 1 forever, or perhaps pick 2 and be happy?


As I pushed the little metallic buttons of the gate, I saw my shadow flung across the curved wall by headlights. It was my shadow, distorted in to beautiful and thin, and it slid across on to the gate and faded out. It was one of those images that you can see exactly for ages after. I don't know why it implanted itself on my brain. Maybe that the light moved me or something. Because our earth's amazing and light can do so much. I don't even have a clue, but the magic's in the mystery. Just like there's method in the madness. I love dainty little phrases. They're like tiny little ballerinas, twirling their sugarplum tutus on your tongue, pirouetting on your lips and finally leaping out in to the open to join all the other ballerinas. Never had the chance to wear my new black skirt with the white polkadots and the chanel inspired pumps with the pearls and the beige flower brooch. My mom was being a whorebag, dictating what I can wear and what I can't. 'Cover your cleavage, Lucy'. I don't get why people always call me a whore because I wear low-cut tops. Jesus, half the people who call me a whore have given head. I am a 32B. Like Lily Allen, and to quote her 'My tits are tiny, I don't need a bra' (well it was something along those lines). I wear a bra, but will people pleeease stop going on about my boobs? Stupid girlhood.







Went to see a Christmas Carol 3D. It was. A. M. A. Z. I. N. G. First off, I would definitely not bring children to it. It has images of the grim reaper and his black thestral type thing, zombies, ghosts, these two ragged demon children called Revenge and Want. I was terrified at some parts like when the grim reaper hand jumped out of the screen. I was just terriffiieedd. It had everything for an instant classic, well-known story, great music, amazing animation, actors you can name like that *snaps*, and of course the added bonus of 3D. Jim Carrey & Colin Firth were recognizable as soon as their characters arrived on screen. Same with Ryan Ochoa, who is Chuck on iCarly. Before you judge, iCarly is fucking good. I adored that movie. 13 of us went to the cinema and the majority were guys, and they all wanted to see Harry Brown, but me, Efa and Elise were like noooooooo. Elise and Sionnan wanted to see Jennifer's Body, but me, Efa and Buttons had already seen that. The guys were blatantly refusing to watch UP 3D. So we settled on a Christmas Carol on the basis that nobody had seen it yet, and it looked okay. Movie well spent. I recommend it.

Well, I'm gonna go now. Comment please.
Shout-out to Georgia, Lulu, Danny and Nickster because they read and comment and I love them muchos.
XX

• Ninja Restaurant, New York <3
• Mystery Google
• Average People Unite :)
  

Take back this city....

It's abnormally freezing here in the green land. I mean, hello? Global Warming? Pick up please?
Parent-Teacher meeting yesterday. Comments weren't bad which surprised me so much my mouth hung open for like half an hour. Apparently, I've improved greatly in Maths, yet I thought I was doing the opposite. Loadsa teachers said I didn't hand up my homework, but if I was out last week, how am I supposed to do it? Meuhh Meuhhh, Fucktards. I pulled tonnes of lip skin off during English accidentally and now my lip is burrrning so je regrette. Je parle le langue Francais.. J'adore Francais et je veux un garcon beau Francais. Sigh, malheuresment, je n'ai pas un garcon beau Francais mais j'ai chocolat. :)





It feels like the world's closing in, waiting for my choice. I feel like I'm stranded on a roundabout and I can either be brave and choose which way I'll go or stay here forever. And all the angry drivers are wondering what the fuck I'm doing and hurrying me on. Which road should I take? I remember being 7 years old and desperately wanting to be a teenager like Lizzie McGuire and she had a boyfriend and she stayed out late and IM'ed. But now, I'm not so sure. With each opportunity, comes a responsibility. As in responsibility for your actions. And usually the actions fail you but you still must be responsible and smart. Take the bull by the horns and push past ignorance. It's harder than it seems, this growing up thing.


Picked it up again now. Thursday at 06:46am. I was pestered by the fact I had a draft. It just sat there in my mind 'FIIINIISSHH YOUUR BLOOGGG POSSSST'. So here I am. *waves*. Hyper hyper. Approx 37 days 'til Christmas. Everyone else has the huge lists and I'm like woo woo camera. Why do people need so much at Christmas anyway? If I received tonnes, I'd be happy anyway, but my parents never gave me too many presents. Little 8 year olds have lists like netbook, playstation 3 and Halo 3 for the playstation 3. If I even asked for that, I'd be grounded. I want to give all my money to charity or something good like that but nah. Too much effort. Aldi have gingerbread houses! I nearly died of excitement because they have a train too and it's all completely edible. I could pretend to be the Cloverfield monster, smash the house down then send my minions on Janice Ian. >:]

I shall go now. Because I need to straighten my hair and drink tea and possiblé put foundation on. Roll on Mr. Weekend.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

Just say there's nothing holdin' you back...

Dearies.

11.24am. Sick, so came home early from school. I reckon I should get some blood tests, check that all's well. But I hate blood tests, because of someone fiddling around under my skin. Picked back up an old habit. Bought my new look in Dundrum shopping centre yesterday. Red lipstick, kohl and Coco Chanel inspired items. It looks quite formal but I love it. Gotta love Penneys, eh? Premiering this new fashionable Lucy this weekend, provided I am not hung by ankles and skinned by parents tomorrow after Parent Teacher Meeting. I don't give a fuck anymore. I know, ignorant teenager much? But St. Wolstans is horrible. The teachers hate me, the pupils hate me. I feel like I'm sniggered at each time I turn my back. Doesn't help that cliques are established and I don't belong in them. I have Ash and Jem but they're quiet and tired in school, and I sense they find me annoying how I'm always 'happy' in school or something. I just love being around people. Most of my friends don't go St. Wolstans. Also, everyone is still kind of wary of me because of the whole 'liking girls' fiasco. Hellooo, all you little catholic girls do not make me wet. St. Wolstans is chock-full with little preppy, tracksuit-wearing barbies who all look the exact same. Hating on it.

I did so much shopping yesterday, it's unbelievable. I'mma google-image some of the things I bought and then use PhotoFiltre (awesome free program) to mash 'em into a pic for you. Fuck it, I could only find my cute panda beanie on the River Island website. It's so adorable though, well worth the €17.50.

Katy Perry wore it too, so not exactly totally original but omg I'm in love with it. I got two flannel shirts in Penneys, black and white and then one thats different shades of purple. I got a nerdy golf jumper from H&M kids, because I'm quite small. 2 new pairs of jeans from their too, one shredded stonewashed pair and another pale blue figure hugging pair. Grey nerd type top.. one of those vesty things. Polka dot skirt, pearls with a beige flower brooch, black and white patent pumps with a little gold chain. Plait bracelets. There's more but I can't think. Phwaah. I am actually so happy with my purchases. Happy days like.


Listening to Lovebug- Jonas Brothers because I'm fucking awesome weird. It's such an adorable song. I always wanna cry because no boy I know a) would ever feel that way & b) would especially ever feel that way for me. I keep reading romance novels and they set my expectations all high. I want love so much. Just to feel it. Why aren't there any handsome, dark, sensitive boys out there? Hello? I mean, it's not that much of a specification. I'll even settle for relatively okay, dark and sensitive, as long as they're not fat. Girls too, come to think of it. I fancy the arse off one boy and one girl and they both think of me as a friend so fuck it, eh? I feel so unattractive. Especially with beautiful friends like mine who always have boys after them. Epic fail. I put on clothes and make-up and aim for perfection and fall short. Putting net out on blog. Hereeee, sexy sexy sexy. Come love me, creatures. Please?? AHH. I'M CRAZY.

39 days 'til Christmas; Camera and festivity and depression. I don't want to be single for Christmas, I want escapades under the mistletoe. I'm not independent! I want someone warm to hug and hold and amigawd, fail, because people like me never ever find that, do we? No. People who've read this blog since before Summer know how crap my self-esteem is, especially back in the days of Candyshop Cocaine and Cynical And Whimsical. Then in Summer, I got male attention and female too, and I was like 'WOAH! I must not be too bad!' but then I got dumped 4 times, and now I'm totes unloved so fail. It totally destroyed happy confident Lucy. Complain, complain. RAWWH.

I'd better go.
Music Monday- Mushaboom by Feist.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

Now is the winter of our discontent...

Sticky tea dried down my legs, home-done french manicure chipped, sticky face cream slathered on to skin. It feels like two sharp knives are right in at my spine, at the base. Just jammed between the vertebrae, and laughing as I contort in this agony. It's not even the physical agony, and I don't know why any of this is agonizing. I'm self obsessed, in a bizarre way. Like I love myself, but because I hate myself. 01.17 am. Remnants of tonight's kohl streaming down my puffy cheeks. I want fresh air, sunny days, a camera in my hand, sunflowers surrounding me. Something surreal, being wrapped in webs and downy duvets of fairytale lies. I guess I'm just never happy. I only think of my self as a failure. The days that I feel beautiful are the days when I haven't insulted someone. It just doesn't click; When I achieve something, I just aim higher until I reach these unthinkable desires. Evil things, bitchy things. Things against the girl code. Things against morals. I really wish I could decipher who I am. It's like a code. I don't know what it is.

Gaa. What can I say; I never enjoy it. For a while I do, but then I slide or something.
I can't stand this. Two posts make me crazy. I'm just going to put in a picture I took in Cavan over the summer. It's blurred to the left, it's black and white, but I like the picture. It's the type of photography that literally plasters deviantart, but fuck it, bite me.



(click to enlarge, as always)

LUCY
XX
Comment me.
Or facebook.
Or something.

Fuck son. 7 comments.
Now that's more like it.
This is gonna be short, because I'm hyper-excited and stuff.
And facebooking.
Woo for laptop being fixed. Happy days, eh?
It's perfect and I'm chilling listening to Weezer and Manson in my knickers, scrubbing two names off my hands because Jemma made me.
This is the good life.
I'm pretty happy except for the whole 'lucy is at window watching life whilst other people are actually playing with life and shit' feeling I've been getting lately. I've been mighty half-assed, as you can see from lack of pictures in this post. Camera for XMAS. Proper photography type one instead of silly little cybershot. I'm trés excited. Fuji Finepix SI500fd. It's the cheapest SI there is so I'm like woooo. It's 10mp which is good, even though my last one was 12mp but I can't wait. Ahhh photo happinesss...

Today is Friday the 13th. Stuff of legend, and myth. I have great luck on these days because of my mirror experience 6 years ago. I'm quite superstitious about mirrors and glass. They have this odd aura or something. Mirrors can be a blessing or a curse, depending whose looking in and if they're being watched from the other side. I was like drop smash grr. It was my sister's and I always felt like since it wasn't my property, it doubled the curse or something. I swear, I'm not crazy.

Typing like a crackhoe today. So hyper. It's unbelievable. Type type play play FAAACEEBOOKKK. I better go now, so as not to embarrass myself further on the interwebs.

Hit me up with some comments, babyyyy.

LUCY
XX

Look at me all spontaneous.
I've gone for Minima Lefty as my template because I really wanted normal comments back instead of dumb old c-box. I like this, but I'm sure it'll lose me followers or prospective followers. So if you're reading today's posts (this is the second) - comment on this one please, and make sure to tell me if you liek it or not. (:

Lucy
xx

La, la, la, la, la, the boys are waiting...

"Every hero becomes a bore at last - R. Emerson"






3rd day of sickness, I really think maybe I should study but gah the effort. Missed school talent show out of being ill last night. Epic fail. Drag Me To Hell = Total letdown. What is with 2009 horrors? They suck. The only one that lived up to my expectations was Final Destination. Jennifer's Body was a good comedy, but the build-up to Cody's horror debut was so unnecessary. There was blood, and black pricky vomit but that's as far as the gore went. And the music didn't make suspense. As horror movies usually go, it did stray from usual human breeding. Through out the whole film, Needy searched her abode in complete darkness. Helloooo, woman, when there are brutal killings in your city, would you not flick the light switch? In Drag Me to Hell, a gust of wind leads her to cry. Uhm.. I'm not sure about you guys but when air rushes my way.. I don't start bawling my eyes out? Directors, eh?


Copy and Paste what some wemo bebo commented me last night:
"lol at lil wannabe scene skanks
who look like a retarded fetus :) :L"
Haha fun times? These bebo 'fames' are just getting on my nerves. Thou are not holier than I shall ever be. God has not placed superiority upon thou sacred palm. Suck my lefty. Jesus, he could at least spell foetus scientifically. Rawr. I'm not a scene wannabe either? I'm the opposite. I'm not a bulimic, loose-trousered loser. Just a plain old loser. And I loveee being a loser. Je n'aime pas tu filles et garcons Scene; Je n'aime pas tu!! Get this though, my readers. His bebo profile states : Scene. Pshh, way to hypocritise. Is that a word, even? Fuck it.


Lately, parents have been doing a lot of fighting. Not as much as before they almost divorced, but more than normal. And my mom's always crying and I wish I could extend my hand for help... but I can't. These are her problems and she hates people trying to help. Stubborn, like me I guess. The house thing is worrying me too. I don't wanna live on the streets. That'd suck.. I feel like the parentals are in denial of the debt. 'If we can't see it, it's not there' kinda thing. I feel like the adult here. They still have these great expectations of me. That I get all a's in everything, but if they checked my journal and copies and tests, they'd see I'm not assed at any of it. I really don't see the point of any of it. Listening to Lily Allen's 22, I started thinking about my fairytale ending, and about how it probably wont have one. I'll end up like the girl in 22... Single, used, without a career; Lounging in front of Eastenders with a little tin of takeaway noodles. Epic Fail.






GaGa's amazing new video for Bad Romance - yes, folks, I finally found the real video && embedded it for you - is totally turning me GaGa. I remember when I totes hated Lady Gaga and her affiliates at the Haus Of Gaga but recently.. Hell yeah, I'm feeling it. I wish I had gig money for her Monster Ball. I'll see her next year. This video brings everything that I love in a good music video into one. Craziness, quirkiness, contacts, a clever advertisement and originality. Bath Haus Of Gaga, the crazy pink perm, the French section of the lyrics, the massive deer-in-headlights contact lenses, the scantily clad GaGa herself. She is hot. I'm beginning to think 2010 is the true Birth of GaGa.



Thanks for the comments.
But I need more.
Link to friends day?

(:

LUCY
XX

Dramatic music.

Haven't posted since last Thursday. Comments for once. Happy days. Sick for the past two days, stomach bug. I've been thinking a lot lately.. About stupid things. Like gifts or talents. Everyone is supposed to have one? Ashling is a good listener, Merissa is funny and a good singer, so is Jemma, Georgia is a great writer, Efa is beautiful and intelligent. Hang on, they're all beautiful and intelligent. And they're all good at sport. Grr at their talents but ILTHEM. I'm kinda just... here. I'm such a moanbag, eh? I just wonder WHAT IS MY PURPOSEEE?. S'like I was placed here to make people look better. Ahh, distracted by Robbie's You Know Me and him in his bunny suit. O.o. Anywaaay, I don't think I have a point in being here. I think about all those starving people with bamboo huts and no parents who deserve my life, and then go... why does such a selfish, psycho-whore like me have the life they deserve? Either life is a total bitch, or that person in the sky has Tarantino-humour. Birth, bitch, bereavement.


Gaa disco on Friday. Hell yeah, party up. *major sargasm*. Nothing better than stumbling in the dark, vodka and fake tan filling your nostrils and all the beautiful people tongue-orgying their way to popularity and prosperity. And then there are the wallflowers, like me, staring longingly at their 3-foot legs and their bright dyed hair. Funsiez like. School = suxxor. Too much homework. Faiil. I want to lay down and scream my lungs out in the middle of maths. Just lay there and yell out what I feel about the Junior Cert and our dastardly politicians, buying iPhone 3Gens with money straight out of the tax-payers pocket. While the rest of us struggle to pay our electricity bills. FUCK THIS FUCKING FUCK IRELAND GRR. I vote we all move to America. All in favour, say I.


Shout out to Dannysaurus Rex. Because he's online and I need people to talk to because sick days are fail but win at same time. Hayley Williams new blonditude makes her look like young Madonna, lookkkkk. Paramore in December. T'woo T'woo. She lives in a faaaiiiryyytaaalleee. So hyper and distracted. Like Tessa, Aka Meekakitty. Youtube her if you silly earthlings have not tubequainted yourselves with the almighty Meekster. This time of year is actually so beautiful; I look out the window and JD-moment how amazing nature is. The crisp leaves curling at the edges, the warm colours caressing eachother. It's times like this when I wish I wasn't idiotic enough to break my camera beyond repair. My dad suggested I use the family cybershot, but it's so not me. When I used to use my black camera with the Carl Zeiss retracting lens, it was like holding a small child that captured memories. Y'alls probably like EHM WTF. But to me this all makes sense. Inside my head. Oh gosh, I think I'm semi autistic.

I'mma go. Comment, bloghoes.
LUCY
xx

High off hand sanitizer...

Gaga Ooh La La




Right.
I am a crazy psycho who is squashing two people in to one skin. Yikess.
Well, Jade is my new outlet. I'm trying hard to stop bitching. Unsuccessfully.
So Jade's there to let out all this hatred and shit.



I haven't properly blogged in quite a while so I'll aim for it today. Junior Cert. Arggghhh. They hype it up so much that it actually scares me now. I feel like I need to study. I got 68% in Maths. Which is great for me. I was like YAYY because I passed and got honour. Happy days. I'm so hungry lately too. For a while I thought, OMFG pregnant but then smart brain type think kicked in 'Lucy, you aren't getting any, and you won't be for a longggg time, kthxbai.' So I'm just a fat cow. Seriously, my thighs are like sacks filled with custard. I walk and they slap against each other and echo. Need to exercise. I might go back to working out in my room before bed. That's what always kept me fit. It sounds horrible, but I wish I went back to post-operation-underweight. Most definitely, you're all there cringing in your seats, feeling embarrassed for my lack of depth or tutting at me in horror and superiority. But I find thin beautiful. I used to lie and say some people were too thin, but there's no such thing. And guys fall for those over-thin girls.



Speaking of guys, I repel them utterly. It's a curse. Hitler had a wife, yet I don't have a boyfriend. Helllooooo.. earth to dating community? I'm right here. There must be some semi-neurotic hater out there suited for me, in a flannel shirt and skinny jeans with natural hair? Or just a fellow reader, in jeans and a t-shirt who listens to David Bowie religiously. Or maybe a happy, smiley ear-pierced skanger, because opposites attract? Grr. I give up. Y'all are like 'You're fourteen, you've got a life ahead of you to find love...' but I want it now. I want someone to cuddleee and be warm with and hear his heart beating through his shirt and melt melt orgasm noise. Pride and Prejudice has put my expectations and hopes at a brand new level. I want a Mr. Darcy... mysterious, repelling, charming in a bad-mannered way. Rich too. Or a Mr. Wickham... outrageously handsome with a way of twisting people. Mmmm. Jane Austen has both impeccable taste and an amazing imagination.



Cillian, I would like to apologize for any judgments I made on this blog of you, but there's so much gossip about everything and I was angry and omfg unnecessary drama everywhere. Everyone's fighting. End of 2k9, loike, on a bad note. Drama, drama everywhere, but not a drop to drink. Hang on.. That's not it. W Factor Junior Heats on soon. To all of you cultured foreigners, W Factor is our school talent show. Great name, huh? But I think I'mma go. Because if it's not good, it's going to be hilarious. And if it is good, then it's worth our money. The seniors are usually better, but I can go to the finals to see them. Starting to like Gaga's new hit. Will embed.

Lucy
xx
Comment again, laydeez.
And actuaalllyyy, Neko, I was (Y) for you. :B

An introduction.

Bitch has landed.
That's it. I'm fed the fuck up of all of you.
The human species.
We're mistakes; Disgusting, horrible mistakes.
This is my alter-ego. Fuck it if I'm crazy,
Fuck it if you consider it a multiple personality disorder.
I'm going to call this alter-ego.. Jade.
Jade the killer psycho bitch.
Jade, the strong, courageous, beautiful, popular, loved version of Lucy.
As Jade, I hate the human race.
Girls my age... Catty. Bitchy. Scandalous.
Read Neko's blog... and it confirmed whichever theories I had
of girls anyway. Why does anyone have the right to point out another's flaws?
Damnit, I'm sorry my genetics made me look like this?
I'm sorry I was brought up with a poor sense of judgement and the ability to make mistakes?
Any girl reading this... I want you to cut other girls some slack.
Forgive, forget, do what it takes. That comment you nearly made about that girl?
Swallow it.
About that girl you were going to nudge in the corridor 'accidentally'?
Pin your arm down.


Promise for a proper post soon.
I really do.

Jade, Lucy's evil inner twin.

xx

[This time, please bother commenting. Props to Lulu & Vic. Pandas FTW]

Go on and take a bite...

Click To Enlarge....




Hello, the dear people who actually can bother their arses to read this.
I kept procrastinating and going 'Ughh, I'll do it later' on the blogging front, but now I finally got to doing it at 9:15am, Sunday. This time tomorrow I'll be listening to the buzz of class and whispers of who fucked who and who lost their hand to fireworks. Halloween 2'k'9 = Suxxor. It failed hard. Didn't go out for the whole day and then Dad rented Final Destination 2, because Drag Me To Hell was all out. He watched half of the movie with me and then ran off to go to some party with my sister's friend's parents. I was left alone with hormonal mommy, because her painters are in, and we watched x-factor and I bitched and moaned at her about wanting to be real proper blonde.



Speaking of X-Factor, I reaaallyyy hated rock night. They wrecked some of my favourite songs.. Joe took Journey's classic: Don't Stop Believing and made it into a boring anti-ballad which was about as bloody inspiring as Paris Hilton's autobiography. Stacey the Dimwit did a over-vibrato, pop version of Keane's Somewhere Only We Know and Lloyd targetted the girlies with I kissed a Girl... Which really isn't rock. Anyhoo, he wasn't attractive and was utter fail. Danyl (<3) did a song I didn't know, but it was kind of mojo-less. I hate how they give him such a hard time. Stacey, Lloyd and Jedward suck & should be voted out. And Danyl has real talent. Like, magik tear-jizz-love-inducing singing. Sigh.

Weekend = Boring. No homework done. Will probs do today. Feeling pretty down for no reason. I don't get how people do that bitey MSN personal message. When they pick something subtle but obvious and display it for everyone with a sarcastic smiley face after it. It doesn't seem very mature to me. Nobody's mature nowadays, aight?

I'mma go now.
Linking you to some of my social networking accounts.
Add me and follow me etc.
LOVE YOU GUYS.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

• Bebo
• Twitter
• Plurk
• Facebook
• Myspace
  

PS. Sorry about the short post.

This is going to be short because it's my morning cup of tea and I need to go have a shower etc.
I'm turning over another new leaf. I plucked up the courage to get prescription skin cream (ikr, but I'm retarded and hate doctors), I'm not going to try as hard and hope everything just tumbles and lands together like a jigsaw.

I'm thankful that...
My parent's aren't divorced,
I've got two best friends who I adore...
(But I don't think they understand it.)
My back is fixed.
I'm intelligent.
I'm single.
I am myself, and only that.
I make mistakes.

I want to just say something before I sign out.
Everybody is equal.
I heard a conversation yesterday between two people.
PS. I don't care what they think of me.
Anyway, they were talking about someone who occasionally thinks
she's better than other people.
And one of the people talking stated that it was with due reason.
And the other nodded.
No. No. No. No.
Nobody is better than anyone else. We all make the same mistakes.
We're all the same race. No matter if you're annoying,
socially retarded, bad-mannered, conceited, depressed, overly cynical....
We're all the same. Human. And no matter what you think...
No matter how far your head is up your ass and how much better you think
you are then everyone else...
You're just the same as the person your criticizing.


And I wish I had realized it sooner.
Lucy
xx
Comment.

TimeSurge - great posts, all the time.

Toast with golden syrup...

Brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack...







Stop with this monotoneeee. Feels like liquid life is rolling off my back. I wish I could live hard and fast... Pull these stupid metal torture devices off with pliers, get suspended, drink, smoke and snort like a rockstar, totter around in 6 inches everyday. Fuck in ditches, have boys trailing at my feet. Ash blonde dye with bright pink coon-tails. I want to be bright-bold-beautiful... but I'm left as Lucy Bennett. The 14 year old with braces and bad skin and no excessive prettyness in any form and an expanding waistband and no tits and no boyfriend. And I'm a waste of space... my parents say it enough and everyone else acts like it. My house is my cage.. I'm just a bird with clipped wings. I feel like I don't get to explore.. I feel trapped and secluded and stupid. I want out.



Today, today, today. Some hot blonde milf came to check out the house to rent. We cleaned 'til 3. Doctors appointment at 5.30. So I went out anyway. Me, Missa & Ash trailed after some people and then got bored and pulled a 'toilet break' at her house for tea and fuddzz. Mmm, golden syrup on toast. And we played 'Do, Date, Dump' and Truth because we know Ashling only ducks into the Dare option. For any inquisitive young people, No, Ashling doesn't poke herself, which we discovered in truth. (Y). It rained today. Surprise, fuckkingg surprise. I was reading Time;Surge and it was about rain and it was lovely. There's something therapeutic about rain. Only when you're indoors listening and watching though. Outside it's just annoying, when eyeliner dribbles and that white t-shirt you wore reaallllly wasn't such a great idea. But indoors, it's like toddlers dancing on your roof, like watching a thousand glittering fairies dance and drop, dance and drop. 3 hour doctor wait... Just for acne cream. There were these two adorable korean kids and that brightened the trip.



I really miss my camera. It's like a horcrux. Like someone destroyed part of my soul. PS. That sounded 18x better before I typed it. On those rare occasions that I look nice, I like to capture it and display it. Oh, and those beautiful gradient pink-orange-indigo sunsets that are so ethereal. Keyword is bracelet. I had to go and fuck up and break it, right? Laptop screen, broken. Phone, broken. Camera, broken. iPod, lost. I try so hard to be careful and graceful but damn, is that a fail. And I'm clumsy. I fall and trip all the time. I thought nobody noticed, but then people started describing me as 'the clumsy blonde' so... I obviously wasn't as inconspicuous as I'd previously wished and assumed.





Hardly any comments. Just Georgia & Vic again. ILY guys. You always comment. It keeps me blogging when you guys comment. It turns on my light-bulb of hope and creativity.
I'mma go now because I'm tired and need tea to give myself envigorating bounce etc.
Addicted to Kesha's Tik-Tok.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

Take Me Out...

My period leaked all over my favourite Hilfiger jeans. The only denim blue jeans I have. Skinny fit, ass-clinging beauty-of-a-pair-of-jeans. I adore them. I am praying that Mother Nature's scarlet flowing tides is no match for Vanish Oxi Action.

Bank Holiday Weekend Midterm Start.. (Y). T'was pretty damn awesome. Saturday, me and Missa wandered and got lost in forest and then met up with peeps etc. I think I said that last post. Anyway, Sunday... Oh yes, Missa slept over. Watched One Missed Call. Fucking freaky shit, Missa wasn't affected, she is totally horror-tolerant. I was terrified. Naturally. She snores like a hoover. She is too too funny though. Wrote a rap about George the Nigger. Danced to 'I've got a little puppy' by The Smurfs. Oh, the fun. Todayyy, we had separate showers, dried our hair, did our make-upsss. Then I went back Missa's place and waaaaalkkeedddd to call for Ash. We looked mad 80s, me and Missa, cus we both curled our hair and had these whopper bows and leather jackets and illuminous shit. We were ballin' loike. I'm mad hyper. Because I ate like a harse. White chocolate, sour jawbreakers, that sugar-filled over-advertised sour spray thingymabob, salt and vinegar twists. I feel fat as fuck. But I was mad hyper. To the extent that Dannysaurus Rex actually asked if I was drunk. Ste had whiskey though, I fink, but I wasn't going to risk groundation over the mid-term for a swig. And then I basically hip-hop-super-moshed to Taylor Swift and Busted and MJ. And me and Missa did our 'I've gotta little puppy' dance again. Complete with loud refrains of 'POOPAAAA, POOPA SCOOPA'. We really oughta get our heads checked.

I felt so ugly today, and fat and unwanted. I felt like everyone's always staring me down, like the disobedient young child who is always misbehaving... the ugly misfit. And the whole dramarama doesn't help. Dividing the group is just pointless... It's not like it's going to help anything. It's not like it's going to magically work. I apologized. She just didn't accept it. I know so much that I went way too far out of line. And I understand why. But I wish I never said it, I wish I could shut my mouth, I wish I wasn't such a fuck up. I always wonder how the people I know... how their lives would play out if I never existed. If I wasn't ever there or if I vanished. I always think people would be happier. People seem sad when I'm near. Like I drag grey rain clouds above me on a string like helium balloons. I don't know. Epic fail.

I'mma go.

I don't feel like dancing.

LUCY

COMMENT

XX

Repulse me with your lack of satisfaction...

But I turn him on, and he comes to life...

I have never read Hamlet. I don't know if it's on the senior cycle curriculum, but I think it is. But over the past couple of weeks, I've been familiarizing myself with Ophelia, the young woman in love with Hamlet. He original shows her love back, but he begins to ignore her and reject her, and finally humiliate her. And she was so heartbroken she drowned herself, whilst singing love songs and entwining flowers into her hair. The painting is by Alexandre Canabel, and Shakespeare himself wrote the passage in which she dies colourfully and beautifully....

"There is a willow grows aslant the brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There with fantastic garlands did she come.
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples.
There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang an envious sliver broke.
When down the weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook."

I don't know why I'm so captured by the tale... I think it's just so sad. Men, eh? Grrr. Now I'm angry at men over fiction. Boys too. I'm so peculiar. I'm in my early teens, yet when I'm single I want to be held, and when I have somebody, I'm mostly uncomfortable. The people I'm actually comfortable with break up with me. This year I've felt like such a failure in the boyfriend thing. Ash will go 'No, I'm worst than you' but she isn't because boys do want her she just doesn't put herself out there in that sense. Longest relationship for me: 2 weeks 3 days. That's an epic fail. I broke up with 3 because I was uncomfortable.... and those were the two-week ones. And then 4 broke up with me, some in a lot less than a week. I thought I was okay about it by now. I thought I was over it. But I feel kind of threadbare. Empty. Only 70 years to go.


Youth Club was almost as bad as the gaa. At least I knew people at youth club. My little case of the snifflez and coffz is now a big case of the snifflez, coffz && sneeezez. But I'm not sick. Teehee. Sleepover with Missa tonight. I feel like an eleven year old. I'm mad excited too. I haven't had a sleepover since well before the operation. Ash was s'posed to come but she's babysitting. Roll on 2k10 bbz. Winter = hatred. I can't even get xmas presents this year 'cus we're poor. So basically, I just want it all to be over with, the unnecessary snifflez & the bad weather.


Pretty pearls mommy bought me..... broke mysteriously snapped in the key word is banana middle of the night all by themselves. Still not doing anything for Halloween. And it's my favourite time of year. This year was effing great. (:

Nothing else to write. Life is boring, monotonous, boringly monotonous and monotonously boring.....


LUCY
XX
COMMENT

Smile, you're on camera...

History is written by the winners...





Look at that belt. I want, I want, I want. I re-discovered my inner fashion-obsessed girly girl at 4am when I had sudden coughing fit and woke up. Naturally, at 4am I a) could not make noise && b) was extremely bored. So, flick flick flick, I searched my bookshelf 'til I found that Rachel Zoe chick's guide to style. I was like OMG lulz this is going to be over-indulgent, materialistic shit. But it wasn't. So I made myself a list of things to make me stylish again. It went like:

• Red lipstick
• Black liquid eyeliner
• Scarf
• Plain denim stone-washed skinnies
• Chanel inspired items
• Go to Designer Swap Shop
• Pearls
• Woolly hat
• Patent pumps/heels
• Cardigan
• Save up for Top Shop splash

Unknowingly, my mother totally contributed so I crossed out what she got.
Lovely style reformation day.

Going to go blonder too. Blonde, understated-fashionista type Lucy is coming soon to a theater near you....

Non-uniform day tomorrow. Was going to dress up for Halloween but nobody else is and I'd walk in as scary zombie and they'd lul so hard they'd piss on their plastic chairs. Now, I'mma wear my brand new stripey cardigan, my denim mini-skirt, nude tights, pearls, tartan converse (gives me le grande clashingness/originality). Today's keyword is plaque. I'm hoping that everyone won't laugh and go zOMG thighs. YC tomorrow. Hardly anyone's going. Cept' Missa Mushroom and Efaa.

Cillian's blog = bastardly piece of shit. He goes on for two paragraphs about Sarah and how, to put it in simpler terms, she is the spawn of the devil. Sarah Morrin is one of the nicest, prettiest girls I've met in my entire life. And Cillian, he totally screwed her over, whether he denies it or not. Fucking someone and then asking their best friend out...? That's soooo not screwing her over. And then he goes on about people bitching about people on their blogs, instead of saying it to their face, in a later post. And he spelt cynic wrong. His piece of total shit.

And I know, I'm being hypocritical by bitching at him on my blog. But blog-to-blog combat is perfectly fine in my head. :D



I'mma love you and leave you.
Comment=Twitter=Smile
Lucy
xx

Pentacles and polyjuice potions...

I kissed a boy, just to start shit...








Welcomeee.
'Nother doss week in school. Yesterday was an ecology trip, which was me trekking, panting, trekking, panting and searching for bugs. I mean, walk down the hill = funzies. Walk back up it... diezies. On the plus side, the bus back to school was mighty awesomesauce. Cheryl Cole singalongs ftw. Today, we were off at 12.40. Sooo basically, I only had maffs, assembly fingy, geoggers, francais annnndddd irish. GUESS WHAT? Major swine flu outbreak. 202 people were out sick yesterday. Out of 700 students. D: Like, ffs. SHUT DOWN THE SCHOOl. One of the teachers has it. Emma has it. Shout out to that loveelly girly. She had to listen to my amazing singing on the bus... may God bless her. Piles of business h/w due Thursday from last Friday. I hope Ms. Plunkett gets it. Does morbid obesity make you high-death-risk? And she's too fat to get to a doctors too. Yesssssssss. Witch!lucy escaped to, loike, bid bad wishes to that rotund lady. If you're reading this Ms. Plunkett, I am greatly sorry and do not mean to insult you... kinda.



Everyone's blogging. Grr. I bring it up every second post, but helloooo, I started it. All hail Lucy, queen of North Kildare Region Blogger Pages. 'Cus my blog has effort and almost-daily-posts and a real mofoing template instead of a crappy preset or some tacky twilight one or cupcake one. Sigh. Wan's blog is purdy cool. I need to link more people too. Please note; If you want to be linked, you gotta comment for a while. You can't just show up, go straight to my c-box and be laik 'HAI GIMME LINKZEZ'. BTW, that actually wasn't pointed towards you, Naddie, but if you're doing what I said you won't even know. O.o heyyy, I have a preventative method. Keywords. I'll give y'all a keyword to put in the c-box if you read the latest post. Today's keyword is areola. Yes, that is a part of your nipple, for you twerds who don't know but sense that an awesome word like that must be related to boobage in some way.



Slootpocalypse Halloween is gonna suck for me this year. Can't go Ste's party which some young ladies will be delighted by. Actually, boys too. Basically, everyone. And everyone who isn't going is previously engaged w/ trick or treating and shit (which I agree with, for free sweety reasons). I'll probably sit at home alone and spend my time on Caféworld and updating my blog header. Maybe rent out Teeth. Alone. Nothing better than a night alone with vagina dentata. Msn me if your would like to join me :( .. That made for awkward sad-ass moment. Shout out to Nicky Graydon because he is first class nerdtacular. Ehmm... oh yes, 5 comments: Vic, Missa, Naddie, Lulu and Sarah so luvvage to them. I was like SMILEYSMILEYLOVED for an hour. I'm a sad, sad girl.



Ba da da daaaa *finds rad pics for this post on Google* .....










Leaving you with this sexy cover of Britney's new song, 3, about uhmm... a threesome. I fink these guys are better. ;)



LUCY
XOxO

Hugs aren't over-rated....

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Well, hello thereee. Haven't blogged in a while. No comments loike. Faaaiill.

I've put my bloggedy blog on loads of those blog directory thingies but to no avail. The magick drags down like un anchor. Teeheehee. Lucy didn't go out yesterday, because Ash and Missa weren't going out and I would've been stuck with people who hate me which... isn't my ideal backdrop tbh. Went to the disco.. *finger lifty dance nerd thing*. It sucked like a Dyson. Me and Ash knew like nobody so we trailed around after Lowa and Fiona like STDs and tried to take pictures of them and random fellas swapping spit. I met 5 people. Which is an All Time Low (I got your pictuuuureeee..) for me. 5 ugly fellas, dare I say it. I really don't want to go. I looked horrible and over-dressed and ew braces and the place was sweaty and gross and most of the third years were locked and the rest were just first years. Some phitty was grinding on Fiona and this gorgeeeyyyy boy was chatting Ailbhe up and I was like waddafuck whydoibother because Ailbhe the recluse pulled and LUCY DIDNT. Thank you, Mr. Gene Pool, bad teeth, and tempting fatty foods.

X -Factorrrrr. I'm totally xdicted. I was like OOH JOHNANDEDWARD who I used to hate but have grown oddly fond of which is truly peculiar. Still fap to adore Danyel Johnson. Mmm Mmm Mmm. Big fucking whoop that he's bi, y'all should be thankful that he shares and cares. Look at that: (fap fap fap)

[I seriously think I came]

Todayyysss, I'm wearing my purdy denim skirt and my black H&M plaity-bordered, floaty top thing. And my racy-lacy penneys tights. Gotta love de Primark. I do truly adore these tights. They're so sexual. My skin is really crap lately. I have these two spots right on the border of my upper lip, directly symmetrical to each other like some gay type of angelbites. I need to get healthy but the aldi brand junk food always screams my name. I need more food willpower. But none of that. I need a cigarette also. Might bum some today or dip into my savings. Trouble with owning my own pack of cigs is that I'd get caught so dang easy. I always act suspicious. Like the day I sneaked to town, I came home all James Bond. My ma went 'Want some gum?' in the car on the way home and I was like 'What? No! What are you saying? I'm a good girl!'. Fail Lucy is fail; Danny hasn't blogged in yeaurs. Little whorebag. Not really, btw, in case people take it seriously and start off with those 'BLOGS JUST CAUSE FIGHTS *cry cry*' blog posts. Grr FU to you haterssssssssssss. <3

Paramore soon. And Halloween. Need to find cunning plan to go Ste's and smoke and lesbian sex. And I need to make my costume for school. And I need to dry my hair. HAHA.

There go my whole twenty euro year's savings. ;P

Lucy

xx

COMMENT

Abracablah.

Now I'm of consent and age....

Noticed something. Romance is the only thing that plagues my brain lately. T'is peculiar. Love seems to be temporary, illusory. And yet, I still fucking adore the concept. It's like the idea of afterlife... an anesthetic. Yet for some unknown reason, I want it. Even teenage love would do me. I just want the experience. I have never even passed those little twinkling 'I love you's that mean nothing. All I want for Christmas is an American import. ;)

Was reading Big Woo again. How much would it suck if my parents read my blog? I'd be grounded for years. I tell enough lies as it is. White lies that cling together like chewing gum fragments and make one big ball of chewing gum lies. Speaking of parents, daddy dearest is in Berlin and mumsy is in that disappointed mood. I swear, I could fail one test and she treats me like I got knocked up. 'zOMG I r so upset. U haz ruined churr liiiiiife' as phucking if.  Halloween dress up day in school is themed. 3rd years are Scooby Doo. FML. I'd prefer to be dressed as a Barbie. Clever Mia pointed out that Scooby has enemies. Teehee. So I'mma be a zombie. And I better win this year. -.-

Schoooool. 3rd year is utter stressstressstress. I wonder what I'l be like in leaving cert year, eh? Or when I'm a big grown up Lucy, giving birth. Ew. Scratch that. Note to self: Contraceptive pills & Adoption FTW. Tsk tsk to Teen Drama. Wishy washy shite, I dare say. None of us have real problems. We'll have problems later on, when we're unemployed and our parents die etc. I don't consider anything a problem. Stress, k. But not problems. PS: Leukemia kids, I am sorry, your problems are problems. Oh noes, I'm gonna cry now because people my age have leukemia. :(  Imagine having cancer during exam time. Shoccckkk horror.

I'mma go now. Comment, you cunts.

Only Vic commented last time. GAA tomorrow night.

Squeeee.

Hopefully, I won't be grounded. 

LUCY 

XX

Untitled post with a title.

Blah blah blaaawh.

Soz to the intarwebs for all the forgetful non-posting. This is gonna be short and sweet. Or somefing.

I hhhhaaaveeee given up with girly-fights. I'mma bitch if I please, but I'll refrain from being two-faced or deceiving or telling secrets. 'Cus that's a good friend. Gossshhh, people are just drowning me in their red flowing tides of PMT much. Faaaail. Studying. Grrawr. Life's all fuzzy like I forgot to put my glasses on. Hair is falling out, Lucy is migrainey and cannot sleep. EPIC FAIL.

I feel like I need to lose weight too. It's peculiar. =S

I need coffee and a cigarette atm. But I'mma settle for hot choccie and 2 panadols as courtesy of my mother. Was watching Aifric. She was being whiney like me about how boys never give her chances and everyone's in love etc. I was like OMGSHE'SJUSTMEWITHIRISHTALENTANDSUPERMODELGOODLOOKS. Aifric FTW.

Yikes yikes yikes.

@Keeva: I know what I've done wrong. And I know you don't think I do and that it's an unforgiveable offence &tc. I'm afraid of speaking to you on msn. So.. ehh... I feel like talking whatever out... In person loike. I don't know. I miss you though. *failface*

OWCH OWCH MIGRAINE.

NIGHTY NIGHTY Y'ALL.

Possible proper post soon.

Oohh Alliteration.

xx

I feel like a cold cup of tea...

You say it best... when you say nothing at all. 

Out of all my friends, I have been blogging the longest. 

Okay, I don't include Danny, because he blogged about laik... Singapore.

I have 47 followers and I blog for my own goddamn purpose. I truly am totally fed up at the people blaming fights on blogs. I've addressed it before, and I'll address it until people realize and shut the motherfuck up. Blogs do not cause fights. They just wimp up fights that would otherwise involve fists in real life. It's pathetic, whatever, we get it. I'm not blogging for you guys, I'm blogging for me and my international readers like the lovely Lulu and my cousin and Vic. Bottling things up leads for a reformation on someone, or an eruption of spite and anger and everything they ever hated about certain people. How can blogs be to blame? The people who write them are taking risks, as are the people who read them.. It's the people who cause the fights. It's damn childish to blame an imaginary floating segment on whatever's going on in your life. This isn't directed at Jonny or Keeva or Merissa...  It's directed at anyone who has ever blamed a blog for something that would've happened eventually; blog or no blog. This blog, ironically, isn't intended in starting a fight. If I weren't such a cowardly idiot, I'd say it to your faces. But I can't prevent the hundreds of trolls on the world wide web to their faces. 

Anywaaay, sorry about that long-winded rant. Needed to be said. Okay, I like to read other people's opinions on matters, and I respect them, so you gotta remember... this is just my opinion. When a person judges, it's their opinion. (: This week was doss in school. Still failing a lot. My parent's are all tense, tight, stressed. Over my schoolwork and the whole recessionary house sale. They keep saying 'the reason I do bad is because I make no effort'. Effort is trying, right? Or am I wrong. I was always under the impression that effort was attempting. I guess my parents want perfection. My sister rolls perfection around on her hand. I kind of... strive and fail. Fuck it, I love them, but when they say stuff like that or act that way, I always mumble '4 more years...'! Some crazzzyyyy halloween party was to ensue. But I got grounded. Which is just so unfair and Jem will be like 'Grounded or "Grounded"' and I'll be like GROUNDED. I was so warmed up to the idea, I was like BRING ON THE FEST. But then I had to go and say 'goodnight' sarcastically. I don't think I'll bother with going outside this weekend. No point in it.. dare I say. People hardly noticed I'm gone, and if they do, it doesn't stop them at all. XD They prefer the psychotic evil bitch staying at home, finishing knitting her red scarf and doing homework and reading Pride & Prejudice. I'm growing quite fond of the book. Especially Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mmmmmm. Stupid Lizzy is all ignorant of him. If such grandeur and mystery wafted around a boy today, I'd be on him like an opposite-poled magnet. 

I haven't blogged from an actual Mac for a whole year. Or so. I'm on the family computer/pieceacrap. Because my laptop broke. I can't even tell my parents because I broke my camera, lost my ipod, broke my phone, lost my mom's umbrella, broke my wall etc. They'd literally kill me. Or ground me for ages. Which I wouldn't mind. 

Well, au revoir, mon petit chou.

LUCY

XOXO

You've really made the gradeeee....

Ground Control To Major Tom....






Hello. Hello. HELLO.
Well, this is embarassing.
I was grounded, kay?
It's weird, for the whole time I was banned from the computer, I just felt like blogging. I guess my mind just hates me. Or Le Grande Kahuna. Wanna know what week it is? Friendship week. I heard that in the announcement during Maths and I just mumbled to myself: 'Oh the sweet, intoxicating irony.' That's why we are here... Some odd stage drama for a cynical bloke in the sky. 'I'll throw in 2 fights here, and hey presto, Civil War of friends.' Gr-reat.

Smile, goddamit, Lucy. I have decideeeed that I am not gonna let things get to me. So I'm going to ignore my problems. Or gain enough confidence to stand up and fight. I love this blog so much. It's unbelievable. It's like my birth child. When I stand back and admire this... work of monstrosity of some form.. I'm overwhelmed with pride and happiness at what I've written and how it got me out of depression (two blogs ago, before I had friends... basically, early last year) and the way it makes me feel (the way it maaaakes me feel, it really turnsss me onn). And having people read it and comment and follow makes me smile. Like wide grin that makes pieces of my inner-cheek catch on my braces. The smiles I keep for when I'm alone. Teehee.

I was reading Merissa's blog just there and she said she agreed with someone that blogs cause fights. I just felt like retaliating and supporting the blogging community because I absolutely disagree. A blog= a web log. A diary of some sort that one introduces to the worldwide web for entertainment or self purpose. A place to state your opinion. Blogs don't cause the fight; It's the people who don't want the truth who cause the fights. What? Do you player haters want us to lie just for your self esteem? Heaven knows that you probably have a hell of an ego as it is. Do we really have to fluff it? We have a right to state our opinions as human beings, just as you have a right to use that pointy white thing to move on up to the big red 'X' and click right out of this. To anyone who finks I'm a looner. YOU HAVE THE GODDAMN RED X RIGHT. If in doubt, click out. Remember RXR. Red X Right. It works on every blog on this server. (Y)



Pssh. Muvver is sha-houting. Apparently, when a sock is on the floor, I'm a bad person. Sigghhhh. House in le paper. It's as if as soon as we're losing the house, people ask more about it. Because that's what has been happening. AHA. We can bring the dog... That cheered me up. I'm worried for my mum. She's crying all the time. This house meant a lot to her.

COMMENT ME LITTLE CHICAS AND CHICOS AND SHIT. I'm working up this big topical blog. I know I've been a shitty blogger/writer/person lately. Stresssss. I guess. I'm kinda sick now too. :S


LUCY XOXO

Smashed panes cause smash pain.

I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance...




Dudes. Aha. Things are just getting WORSE. I hate when that happens. Thanks for le comment support. It truly did help. Grounded for the weekend... from leaving the house, from seeing anyone, from using my phone, from using my laptop. I am breaking my parent's law by typing this but I'm just explaining. I don 't know. Friday in school, Ash was out, Jem seemed pissed and it was kind of awkward around Zoe and Katie and Fiona. They apologized to me, but of course, 6 months practically despising someone isn't going snap back tight like that. *snaps fingers for emphasis*. Missed YC last night. Loadsa people went for once. FML could only be that one night, right? Even Asian Danny, the faithful blog reader turned best friend turned boyfriend turned ex-boyfriend. I haven't seen him in ages, and I want to feel close to him again. In the first place, all he knew was me and I liked that. I'm an incredibly jealous person in the fact that I like people all for myself. When it's just me who knows someone, it's perfect. But when I tell my friend's about them, and they become better friends with them then I was.... dayum, that's a recipe for disaster. Disaster in my head, of course.


I need to stop fucking complaining to people. I've been doing it a lot lately. I don't know. My house went into the classifieds on Wednesday. Day after break up and fight and day where I had 3 tests and lost my home ec. Thanks, Big Kahuna. Was a great day; I didn't get to jog for the rest of the week... Wednesday, truly didn't feel like it. My legs were all knackered and I was knackered and sad so I sat down trying to drown myself in hot chocolate and marshmallows. And other stuff too. Reading Pride and Prejudice on my lonesome. Can you believe it took me three tries to type 'prejudice' right. I got that one in the first try. I knew blogs were educational. Cough cough from my sister. 08.22am. You'd think on a grounded weekend I'd lie in, but I woke up accidentally at 6 after a night of... thinking. My home ec teacher is worried about me. She took me out of class today when I forgot to go to lost & found the day before for my home-ec shit, and I went to find it that morning and it wasn't there... Turns out she had found it and she started rambling on about utter luniticisms of how I was pale and tired looking and scattered. I'm usually like that. Which made it all funny. I've been fighting with my parents a lot. And then there's the Junior Cert stress. Drama starts back up after school on Wednesdays. I can't wait... I love drama in our school.



Installing the new Messenger. Hope to god it's worth it. Internet is faaailing me. Hang on, no it isn't. Grr. I love cute little kitschy things. Like in Claires accessories, there's this adorable little Toad candy container. Toad from Super Mario, of course, not the ugly amphibian. I want to buy it but the effort of going all the way to Claires, I have no money, and am on brink of total lonerdom. *dramatic sigh*. Meap ftw. Phineas and Ferb. Comment.


LUCY XOXO

Break your face to match your grace...

Pain is just a simple compromise....


Things changeee so damn fast.
It's just teenagehood. I thought it was all good. And then POW. Lost two things in one night. Boyfriend and a close friend. Being honest, Keeva wasn't exactly what I'd describe as an amazing friend. She was there for me... but when she was, she told everyone what I had told her. And she bitched about her best friend everyday... That's just not right. I snapped last night... the year's worth of spite kinda flooded out on msn at her after the break up... it really didn't help that she found me being dumped frickin' hilarious. Or just the way it happened. CITT ruined my damn relationship. Me and Missa were playing around, asking could we tap all these random people and it got to Louis. I was like 'Can I tap that?'.. He asked if me and Missa were doing it to annoy him but we weren't and I was like 'I'm damn serious. I want your cock.' It's a goddamn joke, right? Well. Louis told Dave. Dave dumped me. I thought he was fucking kidding but.. he wasn't. :( And then I was shocked. And I cried for 7 hours non stop. No sleep. Lay crying with out checking the time, begging to stay home, but parentals refused and I rushed like fuck to school. I was scared when I went to school.. because I thought the others would hate me. But Ash doesn't. So it's all good. I love having best friends who I can fucking trust for once.. like Ash and Missa and shit. It's this sense of security like you're tied with elastic bands so if you fall, you'll spring right back up. Infallible rubber bands.... that'll never snap.




This was one of those frustrating short blogs. I was going to write more. But I'm in tears. Fail. Enjoy the pretty pics in this. I love pictures. Joining school photography club on Monday at lunch. In the BIG computer room.

LUCY XOXO

Comment to cheer me up. :(

Wake up early to black and white re-runs...

Run from them, from them... with no conviction...


(courtesy of Alicia Bock)


Do you know what?
When you go ahead and state the words 'It's All Perfect', everything starts tumbling down and there's that building sense that the big crash-into-a-cratrillion-pieces is coming. I don't know. I'm never happy with what I have anyway.. so when the truth dawned, I kinda expected it. It happened with two others in the past too. First impressions of something are often wrong. Always wrong. And now it's only me to blame. I felt really bad a first. I faked it. Bear in mind that this was only one night. So then I went off on private talks and three of us are the same. By the end of the night, one was brave enough to have it stopped. Me and The Remaining didn't. I don't know what I'm going to do. I have a strict rule that I have to give them at least 2 weeks. And it's been 6 days. I'm sorry for being so... cryptic. But people read this, and like.... grrr. I don't know, I don't know, I DON'T KNOW!


So. Hrm. Well, that's not the only thing that has escaped the tight knit. There's period. Period was put down in the last post. I can only assume that you people caught that it was a codename of some sort. Another cryptic thing. Friends come and go... We don't know what we're going to do. I'm backstabbing, I'm whiney, pathetic, moaney and a psychotic bitch; But I damn well admit it. I got ditched for those reasons. So... what's going to happen to Period? We can't do that. I won't do that. I know how much it fucking hurt sitting at your birthday with 5 people you knew as acquaintances. Especially when the only people you really want there are the ones who blatantly despise you and have no discretion in it. I suppose Period does have another circle. She's like the intersection of the venn diagram. Contents of A are us four. Contents of B are her boyfriend's friends. If we decide to leave the universal set, all of B would hate us, but at least she has B? Sigh.


Yesterday. Got the highlights and my fringe trimmed. She fiddled my layers a little bit too. Picked out new glasses. They're gorgeous. Big, thick black frames, with white and black patterns along the sides. I adore them. We can collect them on Tuesday. I got new shoelaces from New Look for Men. 2 pairs, neon pink and luminous lellow. I put the lellow ones on my tartan converse. Total sex shoes much? At like 5.30, I went out. Anddd for aboot an hour, me and Missa made a third-wheel dance cus' Chris is at a wedding. Our dance basically consisted of thrashing, twirling and falling. More falling than the rest though. Teehee. Then me and Ashling went off to Londis and talked then came back, got Missa and Jem, went Tesco and then Merissa needed to pee. And she peed for a good hour or two. (:



Well, well, well.
I'mma go.
Pictures of our movie night later.
It was changed to all girls. Ash is over for the whole day.
ILY ASH.
LUCY XOXO



&& Paramore Album is incredibly indie-emo-cutesy. I adore it. Never expected it. It grew on me tonnes.
(COMMENT)

PERIOD.

Some people. Are such crypohites. Backstabbing. Check. Crypohite. Check. Vain. Check.


Hang on, let's do this right.
7 deadly sins, we can tick off each one for this one girl.
Heck, I'll give examples.

Lust; Damn. She is always going too far with boys. And then claiming to adore them. And then... drops 'em.

Gluttony; She over-indulges on everything that's trivial and goddamn.

Greed; She has money, but... she uses others. She likes to keep her own money and take others food in excess. Oh, and the people they fancy too.

Sloth; She hates exercise, effort or anything that requires more brain power than a chimpanzee. She could be a good guitar player... but, in her words, the effort.

Wrath; She portrays anger at everyone. Smush goes the bug on her windshield. And she finds revenge as sweet as honey.

Envy; If you have something, she'll want it. She won't back down until she does. And girls like her get what they want.

Pride; Of course, in her eyes every boy loves her, every girl wants to be her. And when everyones dressed to the nines, she's pushing for ten.



Someone save our souls...
Promise a proper post tomorrow. Needed to let it out.
(:

LUCY XOXO

Making pictures where the lines overlap....

Mes petits chous!
Thanks for all those wonderful, endearing comments.. *major sarcasm*. Except to Vic, of course, because she bloody gives a shit. I adore Vic. Favourite follower by far because she comments all the time. She comments like fuck. Heavens sake, she's half of the cbox in her own rights. Love towards Vic. Snap-claps and what not. Today, today, today. It was okay. I started the day with a free History period in the library. We weren't allowed do homework, so there went my plan to finish my business before Ms. Plunkett snapped and gave me a note. So I basically made doodles along the margin of my History textbook of Adolfo shooting himself. And then the swastika all over the border too. Smiley smiley happy times. Then we had Irish. Ms. McEnery is some Hitler Youth child reincarnated. She's all smiley and shit and then when she closes the door she's shouting as gaeilge. The exam paper workbook thingy is so fucking hard. I'm like... eh... Ceist B (i)... Hrrm.. Ahhmm.... I'll just write 'Mhadra, Bainne, Dearg'. Translation = Dog, Milk, Red. And then double Science which was so boring. I don't really give two shits about those damned reactive Alkali metals. I mean, jeeeesh. FFS, she didn't even let us do the fun explodey experiment that set off the fire alarm last year. Kabooooom. After that, I went home because of my lower discs and their pressure. In the receptionn... hrmm. I talked to Aoife and Sophie and Aisling. Sophie is nice to me. I think she used to hate me. She gets a bad rep. When they called my mummy dearest, she was at a funeral. I was like... dayum, Lucy, stupid hoe discs. She collected me after half an hour though. So yays.





Paramore ticky ticks came in the post today. I saw that familiar brown envelope thingy and I got all excited and WOOOO. 5 tickets to le grande Paramore et You Me At Six. Then I went on msn and talked to Missington and shite. And then I downloaded Paramore's Brand New Eyes. 'Tis truly a great album. I like it. It's more like All We Know Is Falling. I still prefer B-Sides and Rarities. The pre-released songs were the best on the album so my expectations were half crushed, but I still adore it for being good without being too good. If ya get my drift. Highlights tomorrowww. And new glasses frames. I'm getting these sexy large frames... black, rectangular, sorta like my current ones, the ones in zee pic. But they're like bigger and stronger. And yummy. I'll look like a kinky secretary. Oh yeah, spank me after the tea break. Put it in after the meeting with the associates.



I'mma go now then. And btw, to all you stupidddd people, the comment box is OVER THERE. The cbox. Just type into it. Go anonymous if you please anyway. Just make me feel listened to in some way. 45 followers and only 1 bothers to comment. Sigh.




LUCY XOXO

Happy times call for happy measures...

Fantaaastic posing greed...




Teehee. No proper blog in a while. No proper news either. Just typing. Tippy tap tap. Looking across at my reflection in my window. Yoga posed on my bed. Like some odd mousey buddha. Life is seemingly perfect at the moment. Boyfriended happily, as all my mates are. Matey mates are all matey matey. I've grown closer to them too. I kinda rebuilt the important shit that was lost during the fight thingy. Where they all hated me. God, never in my life had I felt so lonely. I'm so proud that it's all going well. I'm doing better in school, I kinda understand the maths, I'm gonna start back up at guitar. And maybe jogging and yoga. I'mma cut out some junk food too. Try and get my skin clear again. Do stuff to make my chest bigger. Like.. push ups... (?). Life train is leaaving zee station with me at the wheel. Are there steering wheels on trains...?

Being more rebellious alsso. Compared to how I used to be. I'm average person now compared to catholic school girl. Ahaha. Mommy said I could get a cartilage piercing done. So I'mma get it done. Not a scaffold, just a stud. And then another stud beside the original lobe one. Speaking of which, I'm going to have to shove an earring through the originals. Haven't worn earrings in months literally. I'm getting highlights done on Friday with a couple more layers. Wispy wispa. Happy sigh. Life's good. Recently, I've been floating and giddy and find myself sitting and thinking about nothing and it's lovely. 'Cus I know I'm going to get through this, losing the house, and all the crying my mother is doing and my dad not having a job. I know I can. And other than that, I'm fine. Smiley smiley.

We're doing Pride and Prejudice in school. So far it proves quite the read. I adore it. Jane Austen seems to write really well and I'm only 5 chapters into the book. I'll admit it, some of the language is confusing. It's based in regency England, I'm hardly expected to comprehend every damn word. The movie bored me profusely. Keira Knightley can't act, Colin Firth was hot but not Mr. Darcy. And Mr. Bingley... barf much. So the book is a pleasant surprise; Reading is too addictive for me. I might become a member of the library. I detest libraries. I much prefer having the books as proof for the future.... how I can mark them or underline shit I like. But it's a recession, and if I want to read, I gotsa read other peoples hand-me-downs.


Well, I'm stuck for topics. Happy Happy Happy. LUCY XOXO



COMMENT PLEASE.

Shhh.

Look at me being all footloose and fancy-free on the blog. This is going to be a short post because even if it is only 10pm, I'm grounded from my laptop and am sposed to be asleep. Everyone's all happy, because we're paired off nicely. Dave asked me out. Jonny asked Ash out. Only a matter of time before Jemmy's asked out. And then the two obvious couples of Kevva and Macer and Missa and Chris. It's all shiny. Something's gonna go wrong, its in the air. Shh. Heard a door slam. Comment.

Lucy
XOXO

Mixtapes and misendeavours...

Aha. Well now. We call this the act of mating.


Hello there, oh possibly faithful readers or randomers who don't know when to stop reading (?).
It'ssss about 8.08am as I type this. Which is quite early. The funny thing is I usually don't wake 'til 9. But last night I was up 'til around 2. And my brain was like 'Hey, guys, d'you know what'd crack me up?? If we woke her INSANELY early on a Saturday morning. Listen, and the best part is, for no apparent reason!' Grr to my brain. Selfish bastard of a brain. Ehrrrmmm... I was randomly reading my friend's blogs because I really do not have much of a life. And I skipped on to Jonny's where I found something I relate to. So, it's all like a big jigsaw that wasn't on purpose, just a coinkidink. At youth club, they were going around the circle asking names and what we like. Everybody did it. It was all ha ha ha. Fuuunnn. Then they got to me, I stated my name and was cut off by about 4 people shouting 'slut' or 'whore'. I guess the intelligent thing would be to laugh it off, and not let it hit my pride. Too late. I dunno. I really don't try to be a slut or a whore. The odd thing is the furthest I've gone with anyone was making out. I know so many people who've gone way further. It's the clothes I wear, I suppose. Revealing tops, to say the goddamn least. But it gets me attention. And I have an unhealthy, toxic obsession with attention. It's like my cocaine. You gotta remember that nobody likes an attention seeker. I need to stop being so goddamn easy about things. I thought that people would understand that I'm only young once, and it's fine for any one of us to slut around. I hate how people have matured too much. It was fine when 13 was the new 15. But now... 13 is the new 30. It's not fucking supposed to be like that. In 2005, 435'00 teenage pregnancies were reported in America. If you've ever watched an 80's sex ed. video, you'll recall that medical professionals considered sex a way of contraception only for a long time. That didn't explain the clitoris though, so it wasn't logic from the start. From age 15-19, nobody wants a fucking baby. Teens fuck like rabbits. Some blame the music of today. Even emo-indie-brit rock bands base songs around sex sex sex sex and more sex. Panic! At The Disco, Metro Station, Fall Out Boy. All have songs about hookers and underage sex. I love those bands, those songs, those messages. We're being thrown in at the deep end. I don't know how I should react. I crazy ranted. Ahhhh.

Yesterrdaay. Friday. Hrmph. Twsssh. We went outside. Shock horror. Ash, Jem and Keevs were going gaa so they bought silly string. I just tagged along like a sheep. Sheep don't tag. Oh my, it seems I've lost my ability to function sanely. Just downloaded Strawberry Avalanche by Owl City. How to people listen to that crap? It's like doorbells and dickheads. I'm such a procrastinator. It's 10.02 now. Holding laptop screen to make it work .


I'll write again soon.
Lucy. xoxo

Smile, they're all staring...

Success is having to worry
about every damn thing in the
world, except money...

-Johnny Cash





This is peculiar. It's a year since VicVic wrote her first blog and this is my 100th blog post. WOO. This symbolizes accomplishment for me. Most people consider accomplishment as something physical.. or a goal of some sort. This is an accomplishment for me because I a) managed to keep something intact for a long time and b) managed to let out my feelings without forcefully annoying people. Like how I underlined 'forcefully'? It's because this blog is incredibly annoying also but people can just trail their cursor riiighhhttt on up to the big red x in the corner which means they can piss off. It's the diet option. :)


I would like to kindly address the unkind commenters. Don't get me wrong, I love the commenters like Jemmy and Vic and Dani and Davey and Fionaaaa and all. But those little skanks that are too cowardly to put their goddamn name alongside their comments are just pesky. Not even annoying, just pesky. Because I don't get moved easily by people with stupid insights on how I am and how I live. My view on Sabrina.. okay, shouldn't have posted it online. But I do have a right to free speech and all. Sabrina is nowhere near fucking perfect, Mrs/Mr/It Smileyface Anonymous. Neither am I, neither are you, neither is anyone. Perfect is something we all strive for in vain, never reach it, and end up dejected because it's too far forward. Fuck off with your 'faggot' because if you bothered to read further than the first post you saw, you'd realize that I physically am a faggot. Boohoo, I like girls. Shock horror. Wouldn't be surprised if you homophobic plaster-cast excuses of human beings ended up being gay yourself. Fudge-packers or Rug-munchers. Lalalaaa. If I were you lonely, lifeless creature-type-things, I do this thing called 'Get A Life'... or maybe just 'Build A Bridge'. I don't have time for that type of inane shit. So be gone, moronic fuckfaces.


School, school, school; What can I say? Sucks hairy pussy. Third year is a mess already. I've gotten 3 notes on different sections as it is, and it's 3 weeks into term. The homework comes in these god forsaken tidal waves of mass learning and pointless questions. When in our future lives will we ever need Irish Poetry, Algebraic expressions, Microbiological information and the ability to blanket-stitch? Unless we're all planning on being Irish/Maths/Science/Home-Ec teachers or microbiologists or..... under-paid Indonesian workers. I'm being a journalist; No questions asked. I don't care how I get the job or where I get the job. I'm just getting the job. I'll go to the worst college there is if I have to. I'm just doing journalism. Full Stop. I'm pretty sure I have the qualities of a journalist. I'm certainly inquisitive, to say the least. I'd be a crap journalist. Now that I think of it. I should have a back-up. Brothel; Fuck duh. Or just a waitress. Pie engineer. I could totally engineer pie. It can't be that hard. Base, crust, chocolate-fudge ripple teamed with ripe, luscious raspberries, covered over with a thin top and sprinkled with icing sugar. Hot out of the oven and passed to a customer. Orgasm. Now I'm damn hungry. That reminded me of 'Waitress'. Ever see that movie? I liked that movie. T'was goooooord.


I would like to bear an apology for not posting over the past 3 days. I was grounded from my laptop. I swear to god, they ground me from it if I accidentally slam the door because the window was wide open or something. My mom once grounded me for dropping a piece of plastic on the floor of her car. Accidentally. And it wasn't dirty plastic or nothing, it was plastic from the front of a brand new Wii game. Grrrraawwrrr. Sigh. Gaa and youth club on Friday. Don't know which to go for. On one hand, the Gaa is sweaty & horrible accompanied by that utter shit dance-trance music that's so annoying. On the other hand, it's fun to be out with friends til late, pounding to strobe dancing and making out randomly to my heart's content. But I feel like I'd be betraying youth club and all, even in all it's boringosity. If I go youth club, I'll end up totes third-wheeling on Chrissa and Miss. And that would be crap. But if I go gaa, I'll have to shave my legs and put on fake tan, not to mention wear something incredulously short and 6 inch high heels. Decisions, decisions, decisions.



I'mma go check my online accys now. New Twitter terms of use, according to my email. I'll talk to yas later. Toodle-doo.

LUCY
XOXO

• Bored
  
• Jennifer's Body
• ACCESS Project
  

Lies are a girl's best friend...

You're taking cookies outta the jar...






(look how bloody 'uge my conk looks)



Firstly, I would like to sincerely address the person in the comments who was all like *defies Lucy by asking about S woman whose name begins with abrina*. Well, Mr/Mrs/Ms Smart Guy/Gal, things change quickly. One day you trust someone and the next day they're helping people cheat on their girlfriends and generally being two-faced. That's the only answer you need. Hehe. 2 more followers! Welcome aboarrrdd. I wanna shout out to Lulu, Vic, Dave and >.<, because they write comments and I love my commenters. And I hope they love me... Except for the people bugging me about S-a-b-r-i-n-a. I really hope she doesn't read this. She always hated my blog anyway. She thought I bloody fancied her. As if, woman, when I like girls, it's in better taste than herrrr. Lordy lordy lordy. Ain't life graand? :D


Blogger, n: Someone with nothing to say writing for someone with nothing to do... - Guy Kawasaki


Shneeaakeeddd into town today to see Sorority Row. Ended up lying the wrong age being the utter fucktard that I am so we couldn't see it. Boo me. We had fun though. Well I had fun. I will speak for myself only. I got dem bitchin' shades up there and a preeety red bow and a caramel - cream frappuccino from zee lavaly Starbucks. :) I love frappuccinos... but the caramel - cream one is basically yummy fat piled with yummy fat. I felt my waistband expand. But my jeans still fell down. Reminds me... I need a belt. Hehe. And Assssh ruined moments on the bus. Just my moments. Not Keevsss's. Apparently, that was Jemma's job not Ash's but Jem doesn't roll that way and is a nice person kthxbai. Almost forgot to mention that I bought a kazoo. 99c and it's already broken. I am Anti-Midas, everything I touch turns to shit. Drove past ex while in car. Most current ex. I almost growled. I always hold spite but for some reason I'm holding more spite than usual. Hrrm. Peculiar.

Was supposed to be going off to Cavan tomorrow, which meant no friendy time. But then father got an SMS. Hehe. And it said that Kellie's going Croke Park with her camogie slash gaelic football team. Shaa BOOO YAAAHH. Yayzez. Cannot complete French and Maths homework 'cus I'm a bloody idiot. French; I don't have the student cd. Maths; I don't have the book and I have 17 (!!!!) questions to do. I'm going to have to get a loan of a book somewhere / force someone to bring it outside tomorrow and then rush like fuck to get it all done. It's only the start of the year and I'm fucking up already. Jesus. I'm such a fuckedy fucking fucktarded fucktard. Fuck.


I'mma love you && leave you. Dropping you hoesss some links down there. ILY ILY.
LUCY
XOXO

• Fuck My Life
• Can I Tap That?
• Stephen Fry
• Zoomdoggle
• Overheard in New York
• Lying Down Game
• College Humor
• Engrish
  

EDIT:: PS. Vic, yes I did get zee Paramore tickets. With YMA6 headlining. Ooh ahh. It's like the total orgasm of this intercourse we call 2009. 5 ticky tickys for me, Ash, Jem, Keevs and Missa. I'm trés excited. Trés trés excited.

Brick by boring brick...

Go get your shovel... and we'll

dig a deep hole...


(don't ask... I penned it on some spare paper in June)



Haven't posted in... t-t-twwooooo days. And I'm s'posed to be posting more since I'm getting so close to 100 posts. After this, there's only 2 posts left... woo much. I'm sure y'all missed the 2 whiney, pathetic, badly-written rants of an ignored person to people who a) have no lives, b) accidentally clicked the link in my msn personal message or c) are stalking me because I edit my pictures into lovely unrecognizable blurs. Ahh, the wonder of the blog.

Past two days: relatively boring. Nothing happens in a town like this. It's captivity; stone-cold loneliness with an infusion of angst ridden teenage boys who just want to fuck you over because their x-box broke or something. Grr. People say school years are the best years of your life, and yes, I get where they are coming from because there's no work, no affairs, no kids to take care of (usually), no husband/family pet to feed. I guess they're forgetting the raging testosterone and estrogen and whose tits are too small and who is a crap kisser and she said she'd fuck him but he's not ready for a relationship and those nights when your parents went out when you tried sniffing glue and your nostrils got stuck together. That last one sounds like something I'd actually do being the true retard that I am. Sigh. But I haven't done it... yet. Boys are so horriddd. Hate hate hate. Girls don't hurt boys, boys hurt girls. Boys think that girls hurt boys more than boys hurt girls but girls don't tell boys how much they actually hurt them. Girls kinda just go 'Yeah, we can still be friends... :)' which translates to 'I HATE YOU I HATE YOU MY HEARTS BLEEDING YOU STUPID CUNT WHY DID I FALL FOR YOU YOUR ASS ISNT THAT GREAT ANYWAY AND THAT PENIS OF YOURS ISNT ANYWHERE NEAR 7 INCHES'... Note lack of punctuation. And guys do that annoying thing when they stare at you for ages and you give them that look that says 'whatthefuckyoulookin'atpunk?' and then they just look away. Hrrmph.




Well, I'mma go. I have to try and book the Paramore/YmA6 tickets today. Asking parents. Asking parents for cinema tomorrow to see Sorority Row. Yay.
Comment fags.
LUCY XOX

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be....

(Wall painting by street artist Blu. Found in Berlin, Germany, 2007.)


The more I see of moneyed

classes, the more I understand

the guillotine - George

Bernard Shaw



Happy Tuesday, my lovely readers. 4 comments yesterday. Phwoar. If only that was every day. Hint hint. Nudge nudge. Owch, my tongue hurts. I think I pulled a muscle in it. Don't get to say that too often. 'Why isn't your homework done?' 'I pulled a muscle in my tongue...' 'WTF? That's not an excuse?!'

Don't cha just love crazy ass teachers. Back pain has decided to invite hip, rib and shoulder to the party. The joy of movement my front bum. There are plenty of things that could be worse though. So I'mma duck tape my mouth and quit complaining. Interesting English class with sad poetry. I love English. Officially my favouurite subject. Not for the sad poetry, because that sounds emo as fuckaduck. But because it's the most interesting topic in Hell AKA School. Not much happened to day. Couldn't concentrate... my mind was wandering to things that weren't work. I have these two friends; One incredibly sensible, the other a bad influence (she isn't really but that's what the sensible one calls her). And they both have completely different ideas on what I should do in the situation I'm in. And then my other friends have even more different ideas. And my head is saying another theory entirely but, like, something's tugging against my head with a different answer. Like a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me not to do what's best... telling me to get hurt and enjoy it. I dunno. Maybe it's my inner Gene Simmons. Or my inner Pete Wentz. Whichever toots your flute. Oo-er.

We were doing reproduction in Science and our teacher decided to go all I'm-A-Motherly-Figure-As-Well-As-A-Teacher-To-You-Guys and gave us that sex speech on how you shouldn't fuck 'til you're actually like 30 or something. She's all like 'emotional baggage'. I do understand where she's coming from, I really do, but I couldn't help but wonder when the right time is to have sex. I have criteria for myself anyway. Being with someone I adore for at least a month. Not giving in to pressure. Plenty of protection. Wait until I'm at least 15, for God's sake. I know, I know, it's illegal under 17. But slowly and surely, the virgin rate of my year is dropping. I mean, there are at least 5 girls who've done it... and it's only the start of the year. Here's to bet that there'll be 3 more after Halloween, more after New Years and no more virgins by the start of the next school year. I'm worried that I'll be the last virgin. I don't feel ready for sex. Sure, there's plenty of inquisitive thoughts in my head, and plain damn hormones racing. But... what if I get knocked up or something? I dunno. All I know is that I don't trust my virginity with any of the boys I kn0w at current and that I'm waiting for at least until May.

I might start yoga. Anyone do yoga who reads my blog? C-box me some shit. Actually, c-box me if you do yoga or not. Commenting doesn't take effort; The box is right under the music box. See where it has all those names and messages from lovely caring readers? That's where I want you guys to write. If you want, ya know. LMAO. World War 1 is kinda weird. GRR said Amewica. Grr said France and Engalannd and Germanyy. GRR. Let's all go to war and pick sides. Yaaay. And then some random day we can play football on no man's land for the sake of it. Even though we hate eachother. Which is me like going shopping with the devil incarnate... *cough* Begins with 'S' *cough* Ends with 'Abrina' *cough*. All that coughing, must have caught something. Hehe. Paramore are coming. Yaaay. Wanna bribe my parents into letting me go. I need €40.



Life is still so damn boring. Innocuously boring though, I do enough to stop suicidal urges. XD
Well, I'll post again tomorrow.
LUCY XOXO

Catching things and eating their insides...

I like this teacup.

Admittedly, I am considered easily amused. But look how pretty it is. It's dainty and gorgeous; Reminds me of daisies and soft sweet perfume and white linen dresses. And flowing blonde hair.
In most people's eyes, it's probably just an ugly teacup. I don't know why I'm so attached to that picture anyway. Hehe.

Came home early from Hell. Back was killing me. It's the bottom left hand side, it's like these horrid wooden daggers or something. It hurts when I laugh. I talked to Lovely Leezie whilst waiting for mon papa at the reception. She was sick. Poor Leezie.

Feeling poorly now. Had dinner. Fish. I hate fish. I love seafood; but hate fish. Didn't shower this morning out of sheer and utter laziness. I kept like waking up and falling back asleep... which is what happened last night too. It happens a lot. I text for a while and then randomly drift off and then wake up again at approximately 2am, uncomfortably hot and random stuff in my hair that wasn't there when I went to bed (oo-er). My nose is all.... peculiar... I sniffed some of my sister's perfume and it got in to my nostrils somehow. And it's all tingly and horrible like fried spiders stuck to my septum. Eugh. I like spiders... but not when they're cooked in oil. It actually sounds kinda tasty, come to think of it. But not tasty for my nose.

No other news. Sigh. If I had something, I'd tell you. My life is drowning in monotonous lies and truths. And drunken boys whose vomit smells like vodka and playground slides and being cold and crows. Ha.

LUCY XOXO

The way to a man's heart isn't through his stomach; It's through his hankie pocket with a bread knife... - Jo Brand

Frickin' freezin', dearrrryyy.

I'll follow behind you on Rainbow Road...


I have to say that this is the most adorable love song I've ever heard. If boys sang that to their girlfriend with a nice accompaniment, the girl would be all tingly and delighted. Or maybe that's just me. But c'mon... Nintendo was made for romance. Okay. Not really, but still, it's fuckinadorable. I have the mp3 song and I can just sit alone for hours listening to that song on repeat and smiling like I've got some weird mammoth jaw. It's beautiful. D'awwh.

I read Missa's blog this morning and she was talking about Jealousy as an illness. It was quite a long post on that topic, not a rant though. I was thinking about it for a while.. Most of the day, tbh, and I realized how true it was. Jealousy can turn people into unstable depressed lunatics, violent emotional wrecks and revenge-seeking super bitches. One girl likes a boy; Her best friend also likes this boy. Let's call him... Mike. Mike likes the first girl a lot, but he also likes her best friend. Let's call girl number 1 Diane and girl number two Latisha. So Diane and Latisha bring up the topic with each other.. and then it turns into an all out war. Diane ends up with Mike and they go out for ages and Diane and Latisha's friendship is ruined beyond repair because of this boy and how jealous Latisha won't talk to her best friend. Then Mike dumps Diane and tries it on with Latisha. Now Diane's jealous of Latisha and refuses to talk to her just as Latisha was going to apologize for everything. And then she dumps Mike after realizing what a douche he is. And then Diane and Latisha never speak to each other again...and if they do, it's inane pleasantries...

Bad example if there ever was one, but I really can't think at the moment. I've been jealous of a lot of people before.. and it causes me to run my mouth in a completely Tourettes type of way when I can't shut up and embarrass myself profusely. Grr.

It's bloody freezing over here. Things are looking up. In many ways. Woah. Pun. Pun that only I can get. 'Cus I'm cool like that. Hang on... 'Cus I'm cool a nerd like that. See. I'm so dorky. Sniffle. May have swine flu. Portray symptoms of aches and pains and shite. LMAO. Well, my back has been fucking wrecking me for the past week. I mean, dagger-in-side pain. And now I haves toothache. School tomorrow. Sigh. Maths first thing and no comprende les devoirs mathematic.


WELL. I'mma go.
Comment please. I really will shut it down without comments.
I'll just vent in my notebook.
LUCY
XOXO

The dark and the torch.

The endless monotony of peroxide drama
and cigarette butt lies. Ebbing and flowing like a moonlit river.
The curve from shoulder to hip fades into the years before.
Protruding bones...
Acts aren't left for adults. Darkened rooms and fictional tales.
The musky smell of vodka remnants on coats and cardigans.
Jeans clinging tightly to limbs like blood-deprived leeches.
Oh, the 'grace' we call teenage years...

Raw sex appeal.

You're the picture of the check-out girl; Hand me a plastic bag.


Well, hello. Long time, no digg, dearies.
Slightly crapola bars... Grounded for use of profanities and general bad conduct in the home. Woe is me. Okay, okay, drama queen. But still, I shouldn't be isolated (even just for a day) for repugnance. I should just have to put some money into the swear box like most foul-mouthed teens do. End of week one schoolwise. Keeva and Macker are finally going out. Brief realization of an utter and complete under-exaggeration about a crush. And then the list got bigger, I think. My crush list that is. I'm not even supposed to be on this laptop right now. I'm grounded from it also. But Mommy's not home. While the cat's away...

IP address banned from Pirate Bay thanks to those charming Eircom people who don't realize it's a time of recession and that the average teenager couldn't afford itunes beforehand anyway. I don't get why I bother, I lost my ipod anyway. I'll get a new one for Christmas. Thought up my Halloween idea already... I can't put it here for risk of plagiarism and shit. I'm certainly one to be original... Or at least vaguely original. I'm doing incredibly well in English so far. It really is my only talent. That's not even what it is, it's more..... common knowledge of my vernacular. And most people have that. Epic fail sigh. My braces still hurt, as does my back. Back clicks a lot lately. Can't be a good sign. Studying Human Reproduction in Science. Today, we watched a woman give birth on video. Horrifying, truly was. I mean, not only did it shat in her bloodstream, but then she had to push it through her pussy. Believe me, not a pretty sight. And Christ, she could've at least shaved? Eugh. Not even a slight chance I'm EVER going to do that. I mean, if I'm going to be a hooker/porn-star/stripper/pole-dancer/lap-dancer, my vajayjay's gotta be nice and tight. Not as wide as a truck from pushing a sprog through it. Shudder.


Well, I'm off now. Sigh.
I will update tomorrow or something.
LUCY
XOXO

Apply in c-box to be lover. Or just comment. Or both.

Soundtrack:
Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend



Better day all in all. Yesterday I spent the evening crying to my mom. I don't get it; I'm always so neck-high-in-teenage-drama-and-self-hatred. Doesn't seem like I hate myself most of time... but gosh, I do. Soundtrack muted because I can't concentrate on blogging with random blarings. I'm blogging while I'm in an anti-blogging mood because my mother will probably take it away forever when she finds out that I lied about french being my only devoirs when she checks my journal... I truly am crapola bars at maths. It's too complicated; I have it last class tomorrow. That makes it handy for me to learn from a smart person who is willing to give up 3 minutes to explain. Hang on..... my whole year is full of bitches. Stupid ones, at that. Never mind on the whole 'help' front. Grr. School is literal prison for the morally retarded. Jesus, St. Wolstan's is hell. Okay, at least it's not some mud-grass-bamboo hut deep in the safari sandy desert of eh... Africa or Jamaica or something. But still, jesusssssss christie. Zoe and Katie are completely ignorosity towards me. It's weird, I always end up sitting near them. I remember when me, Zoe, Katie, Maha and Fiona were bffls. They were the good old days. Zoe & Katie totes hate me now. Like.. to the max. Easily hated: check. Almost found Jonny's sister today. She's a firstie. I saw Keev's little sistah in le lunch queue. I was all embarassingly auntie type. Oh well.

No other newses. To be honest.
Braces fixed/tightened.
Owch.

LUCY
XOXO

(another short post, my apologies... I'll shut this down soon...but comment anyway)

Oh bugger.

(Pic I Took A While Ago.
Click for HQ.)


I'm too obsessed with 'Naive' By The Kooks. It's my new build-me-up song. To build me up. I need to take some action; Stop being such a whiney little bitch. I need to be nicer. I'mma try. Because deep under the make-up and lies and whoring, there's an innocent little girl, a kind one.. the one my mom fondly remembers and brings up a lot. I'm just Lucy. That's what I'm staying as. I'm going to organize some charity work. And play with my dog. And be kinda... happier. And not care what everyone else thinks.

Please, comment. LUCY XOX
(PS. Will make long post tomorrow.. Too depresso with whipped cream today..)

I'm so sick of all of this.

NAIVE.

(random picture I took in Wexford,
click for better quality viewing)

Shedding tears for basically the whole day. I don't even know why. Okay, I'm overly sensitive... I established that years ago. I got dumped this morning. It's so odd... the people I like the most never give me much of a chance, do they? I mean... 9 days. I suppose at least she gave me a week. 2009: Year of Lucy's destroyed confidence. I never had much self esteem. Okay, like 5 years ago I did. Then there was the bullying and slagging and glasses and mistakes. Secondary school wasn't much better; I just got put down more. Reduced to a mound on a chair, to put it simply. And then the scoliosis check. You know when you dismiss things in your mind, like tests or anything really? That's how I entered that hall. I was so confident it was a waste of time, and that all our spinal cords were perfect. But no. Me, the misfit, the reject, the person at the side of the social cliques had to have bloody curvature. Didn't help that I was terrified of hospitals... with that familiar sickening smell of formaldehyde and stomach acid. I remember the first day I entered Crumlin hospital for Scoliosis. Trembling, in tears, being yelled at by my mam for crying. I was terrified. The google information told me that I was dying slowly, something that the doctor denied. And there was all the period talking too, which made it worse, since everyone could hear, and I could feel the salt-water tears drying quickly and my cheeks burning in utter humiliation. The talk of back braces was worse, I mean, I was an outcast as it was. I didn't need a brace. I was even shallower back then than I am now. How was I supposed to spend 8 years of my life in a back brace, whilst being normal? Teenagers are cannibals, viciously ripping the people they consider their 'best mates forever' to pieces. I remember on the way home, the starched silence, bitter like blood, ignoring the cigarette smoke and the wind whipping my hair back. That was the start of deterioration. From that point, I shriveled and hid. I had four friends... I didn't even tell them for ages. And then their was that P.E confrontation when that bitch of a hockey coach took me aside in front of everyone and started bringing the situation up. The over-sensitivity meant I started roaring crying then and there, in front of 30 whorish, spiteful young girls. Scoliosis really just wrecked me. I had around 4 friends... none of which ever stood up for me. I just got verbally attacked repeatedly, trying to resist the urge to cry. That Summer, though, that was nice. I got my hair cut, and I got contact lenses... and it was all spectacular. That June I had another hospital appointment, and by then, I considered it procedure. Both parents were there, I felt so uncomfortable. Another x-ray. Some feeling around on my back. Then he asked me to leave and talked to one of those lovely, pretty nurses that reassured me that I'd probably just have occasional posture lessons or exercises. My parents emerged from that room all silent and secretive. I should have guessed something was going on. But I didn't... damn naivety. I went on holidays then, had a lovely time. Then a month later, they told me I had to have scoliosis correction surgery, which is a big surgery. I knew from google that only bad scoliosis cases needed the op. I lost like 50% of my trust towards my parents then. It wasn't them getting the surgery, was it? They had no right to keep it from me even if they were just trying to protect me. Then I was really upset... They tried to fix things by giving me this laptop. I mean, they always do that. To fix errors, they flood me with material items that I really don't need. Consolation prizes, I guess. Christmas in hospital. More friends by then, the alternative ones, who listened to whiney emo bands, the ones I still like. And then the scar. That brutal scar. I watched scrubs on my stomach for 2 months because I couldn't walk or do anything properly. I didn't feel like eating. I didn't feel like seeing people. I was in unbearable pain for at least 12 hours a day. I could hardly sleep. And then I had to go to school, for mostly half days, and I was with my friends and grrr. Then they ditched me once, took me back, and then did it again. That whole scenario was threaded with venomous msn conversations about how much make up I wore and how much of a bitch I was and how I was Hitler re-incarnate. It was terrible, I was so alone. I sat with the smart kids at lunch, and then in Summer, they took me back. I adore them now. I really don't know why. Bar Ashling and Jemma. They were there through everything. 6 Summer Relationships..... the 3 that were vaguely beautiful, mysterious and interesting gave me less than two weeks. I still feel like total shit. I'm such a horrible person, aren't I? A blatant, horrid bitch. Whore. Slut. Fuck it. I hate myself. I wish I could just skip past all of this shit. Phone rang. I randomly started shouting 'Fuck off, fuck off, FUCK OFF!!'


Well. Off I go into le rack of love.
I leave you with a pretty little Disney AMV for the song I've been drowning myself in all day, Naive by The Kooks. Enjoy.
LUCY XOXO




(Ps. Sorry for the hideous venting. Pps. I know.... TLNR. But still. )

Lesbian slut action force GO!

Bloggedy Blog Blog Blog. Look over there. MS Paint picture again. It's odd how much I love that program. Okay: Note to self, egg white face masks make face stiff and itchy and stiff and itchy don't go if there's egg on your face because itching face=ruining facemask and eggy hands. Eyebrows feel like Barbie Hair because they're like plastic hair type feeling. I yawned and it felt like clothes pegs were tugging at my neck. Note to readers: Rubbing dry egg yolk off small womanstache hurts like hell-in-a-headlock. I just noticed how stupid it is to say 'lmao' when your ass is probably completely intact and you're not laughing at all, more like smirking inwardly to yourself like a loon. First day of school today. 9-12. Was seriously not looking forward to it. I was like grrr. Boo you, life. I love school breaks way too much. Hustle and bustle of School life will get me down again. I betcha. And the bitchy little whores. There are enough of them outside of school. *goes to wash egg off face*. I also had dinner and applied faithful sudocrem on spots. How d'ya even spell that? I don't have a clue. Where was I again? Oh yes, school. Well, it's been 3 hours of school so far and already I can hear the faint buzzing of the words 'lesbian' and 'slut' as I pass by people on the corridors. A) Not lesbian, actually, am bisexual. Kai kai, gossipwhores? B) Not slut either, just jump at opportunities because I don't get many because I am average looking, spotty teenager with mediocre personality and tendency to extreme bitchnosity. Welcome to La-la Land, you dirty little hoe... Best sentence to describe first day back in le school. Am relieved about some stuff though. Still incredibly stressed avec la maison situation. Recession situation. Same thing. Probably have made it obvious. GRR. WTF am I on about? I'm slowly diving head first into insanity. Like slow motion olympic insanity-diving. Scott is quite annoying; The boy is in Portugal yet he is still on his laptop. Msning. He acts so up his own arse that it must get hard for him to breathe fresh, non-anal polluted air. I haaaate people like that. Although, I am one. Hehe. Irony.




Embedded cover of Miley Cyrus' Party In The Usa. Okay, first, go listen to the original song if you haven't heard it already. T'is the most ginormous pile of bull that has been voluntarily listened to by moi. It's like 'Yada yada yada.... Jay-z.... Blah Blah Blah.....USA IS GREAT...yada yada yada... Ma nayumsss Maaally Saaaarruusss.' Then I heard BLT's (Shane Dawson's Friend. *cough* We all know she's not just his friend *cough*.) version, the one I embedded, and I was like OMIGAWSH HOLY SHIT WOAAAAAH. It's so much better than the hillbilly earanticlimax that the Disney Corporation crapped out. So yeah.

Nothing else to talk about. Possibly/hopefully seeing Final Destination 3D tomorrow. Cannot wayut. (:

HEY HO.
IMMA GO.
*cue some guitary Ramoney stuff*

LUCY XOXO


(ALSO... YES, YOU STUPID HOES, I DID NOTICE THAT YOU DIDN'T BOTHER GOING TO LE TAGBOARD BAR VICKY 'CUS SHE RAWKS MY SAWKS...)

Guess you'd better go and get your armour....

Bonjour, mes petites croissaints. Je m'appelle Lucy et j'ai un grand cheval noir.

(picture I drew in MS Paint wiff ma ickle cuzz)
Okay, my name actually is Lucy, mais non, je n'ai pas un grand cheval noir.
So. Skin is not glitchy anymore, like it was a few days ago. I put in the mixpod playlist and then the nice blog column shifted itself off to the right. In my pyjamas. No bra on. I'm supposed to be drying my hair and shuffleuffling back to my grandmamaw's house, but zee effort, so here I am blogging. Can't remememember if I already said this, but reason that Lucy is in Granny's house is because parentals conveniently decided to trek off for business meeting in Berlin, Land of Germans, on the last two days of Summer holliers. Otai, I shouldn't be pissy because it's, loike, totally important business shit but I still am because I'm back to school tomorrow morning and I'm stuck with 6 kids under the age of 7 hanging off my arms. Grr. On the bright side, Final Destination 3D on Saturday. I think I'll physically cry if I don't get in. Like... WAHWAHWAH. Because it is like highlight of week. I'll probably be scarred for life by a horror film in 3D, but oh well. I'll live with it. I need to grow some testies before Saturday. Maybe Viagra-Testosterone cocktail would help. Wonder if Tesco sells that...

From this gutter, we're still staring at the stars...... Gotta love Bell X1. Funny new TheStation video on youtube. Shane Dawson, Lisa Nova and Phillip De Franco as porn stars. My kind of porn. Thing I found odd was that they all had clothes on. Who wears clothes whilst filming a porn movie? I don't know. Not exactly my definition of easy access. Rest in peace Mr. Senator Kennedy, anyways. I swear to god, I'll go into school tomorrow and Ms. McEnery will pounce and ask us who died, when, where, why they died, how they died, what was their mothers name. And I'll go ... eh... KENNEDY SENATOR THINGMABOB YEAH. Under pressure... Lucy speek no good Engalishes. Owee, my back hurts. I fell off a swing going backwards yesterday, because I'm a smart young thing. Rose of Tralee was on last night. For all you international ladeez and gyintlemen, it's some traditional Irish thing where pretty girlies who can do some sort of talent (mostly irish dancing or crap singing) sell themselves for TV. Okay, not selling themselves, more like expose themselves (oo-er). It's neither of them, it's quite indescribable. Let's just settle that it's an Irish tradition that families all sit and watch Rose of Tralee with biscuits and stuff before bed. Some random chick won. The amount of bloody Australians was ridiculous. Fucking love Ireland, they do. Don't have a clue why. Deepest in r-word - Check. Rains all the time - Check. Ugly, fat cunts roaming streets - Check. Hardly any Starbucks branches - Check. This country is so lovable... *cough* major sarcasm *cough*.

Little sisters ruin days. My one brought 6 year old cousin up to house whilst I was nakey in towel eating breakfast. And then text-ratted-me-out 'cus I wouldn't open the door and called her an ugly fat whore. In the end, ran upstairs and got dressed in pyjamas just to open the door for her. She grabbed 3 biscuits and coke and then ran out. See. This is how I know that the kids of the future are doomed.
Well. Imma go msn because I am lazy fuck. Hehehe.
LUCY XOXO tagboard - follow - tell your friends

Penis rings and silly things...

On and on, in reckless abandon....




PIKA PIKA. 21:05. Beautiful robots dancciingggggg alone. Sorry. Stuck in my head from X-factor. D-Day, T-minus 3 days and counting. Can't believe school's creeping upon us with a vengeance. Summer was good. Slightly monotonous but good. I want it to last forever and ever. Amen. Couldn't resist that prayer joke. I mean, it's ending on a good note. Plenty of friends, beautiful girlfriend, okay weather. I can't help but feel depressed at how fast it went by though. It was short, imho and a few others. What about you? Did you think it went by fast? CBOX RESPONSE TIME. Today. Eventful muchos. Kinda. Not really. Me and Shell kissed for once. Which is good, because I'm usually really shy about shit like that. I would've never kissed any of my boyfriends if they hadn't made the move first. Girl-girl relationships are more confusing. Okay, I usually don't get as open as this on the blog, displaying shit involving others, but I kinda feel the need to and nobody really reads this. Haha. Thursday night, when we first got together as a couple, I was somewhat worried as to the failure I'd cause. I fail at boyfriends, something completely usual-normal-etc. WTF was I gonna do with a girlfriend? Pros and cons in my head. I like Shell a lot more than most people I like ever. Girls understand more about other girls. More kissable. Better curves. Nice personality. Makes me laugh. I have no clue how to amuse a girl. People's opinions in school. Parents certainly cannot find out. Still no clue. But I put the cons aside. And then she thought I wasn't into her, when I was really just kinda worried about the house and my granny and how odd-in-a-good-way it feels to be with someone of the same sex. So the kiss is a milestone of me jumping over some fears. I guess. It was nice anyway.

Hardly anyone tagged before they left. GRR. I hate people who don't tag before they leave. Nothing to talk about now. Ahaha. I really truly hate when that happens, 'cus I was eating dinner and blogthoughts were bubbling around in my mind and innerlucy said 'I fink this will be a good long interesting funny post' but then I didn't even word vomit or anything and I end up with short relationship feeling post. News for today. We found a vibrating penis ring in the alley beside Gala. We decided that since Buttons saw the packet it came in beside it, it was safe to pick it up. We went into But's house and I washed the penis ring and made a poptart and brushed my hair. Then Buttons put the penis ring on whilst me and Shell looked away and he turned it on and we felt his crotch and it was like 'TZZZZZZZZ'. Good times. We trekked to le playground again and then Keith and Christoph put it on. Without washing after, like we did wiff Buttons. Ick ick. I kept touching it though after, 'cus I'm cool like that.


Well. I'mma go now.
Tagboard-Follow-ETC.
LUCY XOXOXO


...Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?

Things have changed fo' meee-eeeeee-eeeee...

Spun the stars on her fingernails...
But it never made her happy.

Why hello there.
5.18pm. Sunday le 23 of August.
New blog layout, if you noticed. I know, I know, misspelled 'too'. I didn't make the skin, I just nicked it and deleted le credits. That makes me a bad girl. Santa says he doesn't like bad girls.. but boy, he loves naughty girls. They make him come once a year and put his candy cane in their gift bags. Haha. Don't cha just loveee dirty Christmas jokes? Well, was grounded today. Get this: Because my room wasn't tidy. I spent like 2 hours everyday for the past month trying to clean it. And then I get grounded. It was supposed to be for the whole week before School but even horrid parents (JK .. shifty eyes) like mine thought that was slightly cruel. Sad note... fishies died. The ones Melissa and I bought. I don't really give a shite though. Just less effort for me. RIP fishies anyway. Bloody 'Ell. I don't even remember their names. A/C gig last night. Wasn't there. Costs too much. And I really don't think Above Control are as awesome as people say. If you dare utter those words in a town like Celbridge, you'll get bate. Bate= Irish slang for 'beaten to a pulp'. Exhibit A) I'll bate ya round the head if ya do that again. Exhibit B) Brenda: 'They were having such wild, loud, passionate sex... ' Bridget: 'Sounded like he was bloody batin' her.' Gotta love the Irish; Especially since I'm one of 'em.

Guess what time of year it is? Time to bathe? No, you silly, it's X Factor time. Ughh. Considering last night, instead of sitting at home with my parents and Aldi choccy biscuits with tea, I was outside having a life, maybe I shouldn't judge on the start of this season. Okay, whatever, I'll do it anyway. Betcha it'll be the same bunch of sob stories as last time...

• 'My mother died in childbirth.... today is coincidentally her birthday.. as was last Wednesday... and I want to win this in honour of her. *queue Cheryl tears and Danni's emotionless botox quiver*.
• My baby boy died last week.
• My wife died yesterday. *Insert audience sympathy*.
• I'm a social worker who helps innocent orphans.
  
• I'm blind.

That last one was kinda edging more towards American Idol, but you get the nub & gist. Don't get me wrong, they can sing well. But for once I'd like to see a genuine good singer on TV without a tear-jerking life bio. Like... Michael The Butcher, who found his talent whilst pounding steak cuts and singing along to Girls Aloud. Or Teresa The Post Office Worker, who entered the village karaoke contest singing 'I will survive' and went on to the Belfast Auditions. I seriously don't hate people who have problems... I guess I just have a blatantly offensive sense of humour... But c'mon, there must be at least one person who is a lucky fuck who can sing too. *Dramatic sigh* We all love 'reality' TV way too much in the noughties.

BTW. Yes, that picture up there is of me. Camera still broken. Taken on phone. Grr to a goose.
Ah yes. So yesterday, instead of going A/C gig, I went off to Brucy's for her 16th. Okay, honesty here, was not invited. But I showed up anyway because Missa and Ashbear were going and I'd have no friendies then. We were there for 1 and a half hours and the peeps hadn't showed up. We talked to her cousin the whole time and watched Kerrang. I mean. Waste of le grande time. She came 10 minutes before me and Ash left. I was like OMIGAWSH JUST GRR TO YOU. She was with everyone else too. So, I was like omfg shock hawrer, because I had to be at playground for 9 so my dad could collect me without knowing I left the area. Panic panic. Ash's mom dropped me off at playground and Shell and shtuff were there so I was like yaaay. And then we all lived moderately ever after. The end.


Okay, well, awwf I go to live moy loife.
Check out new Smosh vid with Dane Shawson. Hehe.
LUCY XOXO


Comment over there in pretty new NOTEDROP BOX.

Polish ducks and quick fucks...

Made of plastic, and elastic, he is rugged and long-lasting, who could ever ever ask for more?
Love without complications galore? -Porcelain And The Tramps

(T'is my dog. Her name is Bonnie. She is beside my knees. In this crappy cam-phone-quality pic.)

Before anyone goes 'AMAGAWWWSH WTF' to the quote up there, it's a song and it has no relevance at all to any life situations or whatevs; It's just a good song. Coin-Operated Boy- Porcelain and The Tramps. Not on itunes, but I think it's on youtube. I have the mp3 anyway, msn me if ya wanna hear it. So, there is a teeny weeny bit of news unlike most days. I haves a girlfrieeend. I mean, yessh, to anyone who reads this blog (bar Vicky in this situation XD), it has become quite clear that I'm not exshaaactly straight. Well, Yeah, I'm not. If you didn't know. Best thing about it is that I've liked this girl for quite a while. She's gorgeous, and nice, and awesome and pretty much beats any girlfriend you could imagine. She does have blonde moments, but I have more, so t'is all good. Blonde moments make things sweeter. It tastes like you only sweeetteeerrrr. I always randomly run off into lyrics. Especially with Fall Out Boy. It tends to annoy people. I don't get how people can hate on Fall Out Boy; They're too damn adorable with Pete's crappy bass playing and looking like a monkey... a sexy monkey... and then Patrick's kinda strong, sophisticated vocals... and then the other two. Don't get me wrong, big F/O/B fan, but I can never ever ever remember their names. It's weird. It happens with Westlife too. Nicky, Brian BLANK BLANK. MCR: Gerard, Mikey, Ray, BLANK. His name is Ray, right? Well, I'm not even going to try to cheat using Google the way I usually would. I'm desperately trying to waste some time. I don't have to get showered 'til 1. So it's like, waiting and waiting and waiting. 'Cus it's eleven firty fhree now. Firty Fouuuuwr. I'll perrroobably make tea in a sec. And toasty woasty. Watched Liar Liar this morning. I love Jim Carrey. He's like.... my saviour. If I grow up to be ANYFING, like him, I swear, I'll praise the lord. Even though I don't even believe in the lord. Proves how much I want to be half-Jim Carrey. There's hardly any other news then. Er. There is like one of those complicated things that I really can't post because the world reads this blog. Okay, like 4 people in the world read this blog. Maybe less. I have all rights to blog though. People have rights to shut it down though. OH NO! Don't shut me down. That's shutting me up. And a Lucy without talking is a Lucy without SOUUUL. Soul, soul, severus soul. Dayum.

Vic-vic had a dream about me... (oo-er).
Not that kind of dream, actually, but it was a dream that included Polish Chickens. C&P the msn conversation because I'm too bloody teenlazy to type it all out in Lucy's words:
Vic... :] Changing MSN... vic*****rus@hotmail.co.uk says:
*Right. Well it was really normal, and we met up at the cinema. But then we started walking, and ended up in the country *and my mum's side of the family is polish. We ended up being in her neighbourhood *and we started feeding the chickens *and then there was this cat right *and we followed it down to the church... but the church was a shop. *so we bought a toothbrush each and then went out and brushed our teeth (fuck knows where we got toothpaste from). Then we threw them in the lake, walked up this mahoosive hill and ended up back in the cinema, saying 'oh that was such a good film!' *then we were just on a bus. and i woke up

Church shop. Brushing teeth. Man, you just gotta love Vic. Vic-vic-vic-victorrrrious. *to the tune of Notorious* Seee. T'was her birthday yesterday. As you can see from post up above. XD 11:42. Grr. Waiting to be ready is so weeeeird. I'mma blog brb. *makes tea*. 11:5o now. While downstairs making tea and eating crappy Aldi-choc rice crispie buns, I thought of the best wish ever. Tokio Hotel/Bring Me The Horizon collab. Kaulitz and Sykes. (Y) HXC muchos. Speaking of BMTH, I've gotten eternally bored of Pray For Plagues because whenever I go on Dave's blawwwg, it plays. Even if I just refresh for like... better quality and shizz, it starts playing again. It's mostly the intro that's gotten old, in fairness. *Blame's Dave* Only kidding, Davey, I wuv you reaaally. There was his mention. 'Cus he deserves one. Mention also to Keeva, Missa, Ash and Jemmie. Bosom buddies. I never got that phrase, but oh well. Might aswell just say breasticle buddies, or boobie buddies. Or funsack friends. Out of things to do. 11:55. Nothing left to say except I LOVE Y'ALL!


LUCY XOX

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VICKYYYYYY;

Short post dedicated to my favourite and most faithful blog follower.
And I wuuuuvvsss her for always being there for me on msn and shtuff and she's caring and beaaaautiful and kind to everyone. Not to mention funny. :]

Hope you havvee a lovely day, sweety!

LUCY XOXO

Parawhores and paper dreams...

Close your eyes and make believe...
This is where you wanna be.....
Forgetting all the memories...
Try to forgive love, 'cause love's forgotten me...

My little decoy...




On my bed. Tutu elastic 3 inches into my skin basically. Throat feels like I've swallowed sandpaper. Quite a pissy mood, I dunno why. It's the whole kinda 'list of people I like and most of them don't like me' thing. Seriously, Summer truly fucked with my self esteem. I say it ALL THE BLOODY TIME. But I was so proud of myself after the operation, I entered the Summer confident and strong and feeling beautiful. Now the Summer's whispering off into the cold grey of Winter and I feel so down and out. I'm ending this Summer as the ugly girl who entered second year last September. The girl with no boyfriend, the girl with too much make-up, the girl gaining weight rapidly over the past month. Glasses, braces and a huge scar. I really just want to leave Lucy behind, but that's not going to happen. I swear, as soon as the braces are off and my hair is dyed and I've began with a healthy diet and exercise regime, I'll be a different person. Harder, better, faster, stronger. Th-that-that-that that don't kill me can only make me stronger, but I need it to hurry up now, 'cause I can't wait much longer. It's driving me mental; I thought I was over the phase at cringing and crying at my reflection, but I hate it. I'm such a slut too. Horny as fuck. Seriously, boy tells me to oblige, and I will. My tits get me attention; That's why I let 'em hang out. Without my body, I'm a nobody, a little girl stuck in a big world. I want out. It's all so confusing and frustrating and all the draaah'ma. Grr. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the life I have, and I have it so easy, but it feels like something's missing, and I always want what I can't have and how come everyone else can hold down a nice, friendly boy for longer than 2 weeks? I'm just an epic fail. Epic fail to the m-a-xizzle.

On brighter, less 'zOMG this blog's so whiney/emo/pathetic' note, I watched Sweeney Todd today and I thorougghllyyy enjoyed it. I mean, I used to be bad with the whole gore thing, like slit throats and strangling and glass shards, but this barber slit about 6 peoples throats and I was fine. I did get a teeeensy bit queasy at the end when he's killing zee Judge. He's literally like 'STABBY RIP STAB STAB' and like PPPHTOW. It wasn't *holds down dinner* experience. More like *covers mouth with hand for no apparent reason* experience. I adored it. I'd buy it if I hadn't already 'shared' it. It's Tim Burton; It's part of my nature to fan-girl to any Burton movie.
I'm already fan-girling @ Alice In Wonderland and that's not out in cinemas 'til next March. Crazy ass shit right there.

'Cus that's just who I am this week. Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum. I'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in this song. Fall Out Boy lyrics are just my lifeee. Well, you know, only self obsessed teens relate to lyrics written by self obsessed teens. That's how the world works... right? I mean, Gok Wan probs listens to Elton, unless that's only considered relevant to me. In which erase the last sentence from your mind. That was probably quite offensive to the gay audience. Don't worry, I love gays. I'm not straight myself. Everyone loves gays though. It's like.. human nature. Or the opposite. Now I'm being offensive again. Forceful stfu-ittude.


Well, as always, I'm out of things to say, because Fall Out Boy is distracting. And hardly anyone's on msn.
Peace to my lovers, haters, and masturbators. (Y)
LUCY XOXO





I'll be your best kept secret, and your biggest mistake.. ;)

Dirty Little.....

Where's your gavel, your jury? What's my offence this time? You're not a judge but if you're gonna judge me, well, sentence me to another life. Don't wanna hear your sad songs, I don't wanna feel your pain...



Life's
filled
with
plastic
sluts.
Two-faced
backstabbing
cock-sucking
blatant
lying
whores.
And
I'm
one
of
them
and
you're
one
of
them.
Immortal
words
of
Slipknot:

PEOPLE = SHIT.


Sorry for the angry post. I'm just.. ehh.. angry. I start fights over nothing, always have. But all of a sudden, we're all sliding into a superficial tidal wave. A tidal wave of hatred and lipgloss and lying and everything that human beings once named lethal. We should've seen it coming. It was a long time in the making, and, honestly, maybe it's a sign of end. Maybe 2012 will finish the world, along with all the super-sized no brain barbies, who think they're oh so intelligent when actually, they're just caught up in their own Twilight thunderstorm. Burn bitchesss. Might aswell do that. I mean... for actually writing this, I'm a filthy little slut. But, I will apologize someday. Obviously, still will think this way. People don't change their 'play dumb' ways. It takes years of anti-hoe training and de-whoreifying. Or, like myself, they'll just get bored of it. Which will happen to me. In a few years or so. =P



So. I'll write again later. Because the effort of turning this shit around.
Mention to Davey, who asked on msn for a mention.

Enjoy this picture. XD







LUCY XOX

Dayum, you's a sexy bitch...

Hello Thereee. 11:01, 16 of August 2009.


I love that picture of us. Never asked Keevs and Missington for permissiones to put their faces on zee blog but oops. It's a summer depiction; An Irish one at that... we were rained on before that was taken. I haven't posted in a few days and that's my bad because I'm a blooming idiot. Nothing much happening in my life. Ehhrrm. Dinner party thing last night. Took up most of my day actually, but it wasn't as shitty as it seemed, looking back on it. My mom's friend does it every year.. themed garden-banquet (not really, I just over-exaggerate) and this year it was American night. I felt so left out though, like, I walked in in my black tight-fit skinny jeans and my 'Make Cookies, Not War' T-Shirt and I felt like a total outcast. Only other 'children type people' were 10 and 12. My sister, aged 11, frolicked with them and another girl who was 13. I tried to join in, but they called me weird and ugly. I was like... ehh... thanks, that helped my self esteem. I hate when kids say it, because you know they're just telling the truth and that means I'm ugly. Fun fun fun. I barely ate anything... with food, I either eat junk food or my mother's cooking. Out of my comfort zone.. I just pick at desserts and breads and shit like that. I ended up chatting with these people my parents age.. but they were actually mighty cool.. they went to oxygen and everything. I mean, how often do you find 40-50 year olds who listen to Snow Patrol? And the dude liked photography and he had this rad ass camera and I was like ZOMG. It was craaazzzzyyy. And they had rocker sons. It was weird at first, the woman identified me as emo, which shocked me for two reasons:

a) I'm incredibly not emo.
b) She knew what emo was in detail.

After that, the large group of oldies called me the suicidal one. Oh joy, now I'm suicidal and I didn't even know I was. :'(
I was kinda like.... oh ch'yeah my life sucks so hard with my house and valid transport and food and warmth and shelter and clothes and parents that are still together and friends and the best blog followers money can buy. Black abyss. Tacos. Socat. Razorblade romances. *dramatic sigh*.

Last post had 3 respectable comments. Which was amazing for you lazy ass followers out there. Keep commenting, each comment inches me closer to cumming. And when I cum, I'll video tape it and them embed it right here, because you all know how good I look when I'm jizzing all over cameras just for you guys, because you commented. Yes. Underage blondie blog porn. I went there.

Actually I'm not blonde. Kinda gingery now. Ick. I like un-natural ginges or ginges who ginge suits but like... ick anyway, because of the bad reputation and how I get slagged enough for glasses, braces, good posture, 'emoness' and uglyness as it is. XD

Peace out girl scout.
LUCY
XOXO
comment me

Wet dreams for webzines....

IGNORANCE- PARAMORE... OFFICIAL VIDEO!
Don't I treat you guys so bloody well? It came out today, exclusively to Muzu, but it's probably all over the Youtube community by now.




Stale taste of cigarettes, lemon cake, polo mints, all of my friends and chinese food in my mouth. I don't smoke, but another consecutive day of Spinning Bottles lead to all the tastes... bar the chinese food, of course. That was dinner. My mom made Chicken Chow Mein. Today was quite fun too. Hot Leixlip guys (not gonna be like... stupid, because they were hot, no point in not telling you, I met female friends and male friends alike. Kinda met Nicky: Revoltinggg. He'll read this, I know he will. But yeah, Nicky, get someone to teach you the skills of French much. Okay, not one to talk, I'm a shit meet, but yeah, Nicky, you fuck up, learrrrrn. Meh, I actually think that there are no shit meets and good meets, its all opinion and mood. I mean, kisses feel amazing when you're in a pissy mood, but if you've met loads of people already, you'll be making out bad and sloppy and so the kiss will be bad and sloppy. See where I'm going with this?

Dad acted so stalker when he was picking me up. He didn't have his phone so he stood staring. I was like.. OMFG Kid from the stone age much. He's kinda socially retarded but he'd ground me if I said it. I love my parents though, even if they do get on my bloody nerves. Back is quite sensitive last few weeks. Like AMAGAD. People brush against it with a fingernail and I jump a mile. I've got a muffin top now. Sniffle. I need to try and lose weight from stomach region/tone up but I'm too lazy and sportfully candyhapped. I attempt and attempt to be all 'fitness regime.. and one two three four, kick, walk, kick, pushup' but it goes like 'one two three four kick walk FALL fail.' Look at my astonishing punctuation and grammar. I suck at blogging. Ehm ehm, I don't fancy ANYONE at the moment. It's like.. yikes. I like being single, but I want guys to like me too. It looks like it'd be fun to have a boyfriend. Everyone else is edging closer to being taken. I'm not. Grrawr. What's so damn wrong with me? 4 boyfriends this Summer. Half of said figure lasted less than 5 days. Other half were broken up with by me after about 2 and a half weeks. Like AWWH HELL NO. I dunno. I really can't blog in this state. Four glasses of coke and I'm high as a kite and bloated as a whale/business teacher.


Random picture of the day: Manga characters I drew. Don't pysl looking at 'em. I only draw for funsies. I won't quit my day job. XD
LUCY LOVES YOU
XOXO
comment-follow-mail-facebook-twitter-your mom

Nakey ladies and spinning bottles.

Look, guys, it's Alice. Naky. With her hands over her boobies. Great example, Ashley, I mean, not as if 9-13 year olds worldwide think of all the Twiwhores as role models. Not at all. What's with the sudden need of female Celebriteens
releasing old nudes of themself. I think the Vamp one is recent enough but Baby V-jayjays ones are from when she was like.. younger. XD I wanted to find uncensored versions but everyone who had put them up deleted them in case of lawsuit. Bullsheet, imho, but then again, bloggers are too blatant to care about lawsuits. Not our fault that your star likes getting her bullet nipples out, Mr. Disney CEO, it's all the goddamn
cockass brainwashing.

Enough rudey nudeys for one blog post, let's get down to le grande business. Today was one of zee most eventful days of Summer. You guys will be all like OMFG pissy bitch, you're such a liar. But it was because I went to a coffee shop, gobsmacked someone (which is random making out, btw), played spin the bottle, kissed a girl.. in spin the bottle, duhhh, bought Chinese from someone else's money, went out at 1pm and came home at 7. LMAO. Eventful in my humble, virgin opinion. It was quite fun. All the snogging. Ahaha. How weird does that sound. I haven't met someone properly in agggeees. I don't really count Danny, he's a shit meet. He'll be reading this like... little whore who took my money said I'm a shit meet. I only gobsmacked him as a dare. LIKE I dared myself. =P

I'm using a lot of smileys this blogpost. Holy fuckola. (:
I ate a bloody lot today. Growing teen. It's beginning to show. Tum tum. I don't want tum tum.
Maybe my tits will grow too. That would be fun. YAY TITS. Ahhhh. Spin the bottle, I made out with everyone playing. I guess it's the luck of the bottle. I'm just a h-o-a-r. Spelt incorrectly on porpoise (as was that) because it's a Bo Burnham song.

Not in a blogging mood,
dazed from too much food.
Listening to Panic!
Ciao, ciao, little ones.


LUCY XOXO

Theres a good reason these tables have numbers...

Welcome, welcome, welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Readers. Looky looky. Pokétoyota. Felt the need to put that up because it has no relevance to anything whatsoever except that I'm ILLEGALLY downloading the first pokemon movie with Mew and Mew Two in it and stuff. Nicky hates the new skin 'cus he said it's fail because it is and I know it, but that cranky little two inch bitch could at least try and be nice to me... haha irony. Lately, I've been quite interested in oxymorons. It's an odd obsesssion, of course I'm well aware, but they're just so goddamn awesome. Alsoooo, I'm only growing fonder of that person that I like and it sucks because everytime I think of them my heart drops through my ass and I remind myself that I was the one who fucked up, not him, so I should just get over it and move on and be glad and full of life but I can't for some bizarre reason and that's why I desperately need a girls day. And more copy discs so I can put Pokémon on one and make a disc collection of Panic! At The Disco now that I have the new song from Jennifer's Body called New Perspective... it's awesome and if anyone wants it, just message me at lkbennett@live.com or email me. Even after I send you the track, we can have like.. fun and good times and stuff. Because I'm like that.

Oh yes, bebo conversations got me thinking about all those 'I love you like...' comparisons.
So yeah, I wanna make a list.
I'll type the ones I got so far down here, collected or my own, and then you guys comment with more, kk?

• I love you like Sarah Palin loves hypocrisy
• I love you like Anorexics love dieting
• I love you like your mom loves my dildos
• I love you like Elton loves men bending over naked
• I love you like a fat kid loves cake
• I love you like Dumbledore loves Grindlewald... ;)
• I love you like oreos love milk
  
• I love you like you don't love me
• I love you like niggas (OMG RACIST JOKE, TURN AWAY) love nike
• I love you like a certain someone likes girls clothes
• I love you like...YOUR MOM'S CHESTHAIR..

Well, I'mma probably sit inside and go out later. So I might post again.
Or not.
Also, discuss in comments: Dane Cook/Vanessa Hudgens TEEN CHOICE SCAAANDAAAL.
I think it was slightly out of line of Dane but Baby V-gina kinda fucking deserves it for showing us her torpedo nipples. Christ, woman, you're too skinny, okay? Stop showing us in detail!

LUCY
XOXO

Mad Hatter had matter.

Random page from my.. 'thought book',
Decided to post random pages every once in a while.
Click to enlarge I think.
I don't know.
If it isn't, just zoom.



Look, look, oh dedicated ones.
New blog layout, as courtesy of PsycHo blogger generator.
It was one of the first links when I googled 'blogger layout generator' because everyone else's blogs are so damn clean cut so I needed it too. I decided to be faithful to blogger by keeping the nav. bar on it. I hate when people cut it from their site, it just pisses me off. It ruuuuuins their identification as a Blogspot user. Grr, boo you little nav. bar cutting whores. Yesterday's post was simply emo angst bratty whiny teenager and really, my life isn't as crapola as I make it out to be.

Erhaww, well, guess what? I didn't stay in and watch 'Let The Right One In'. I went outsiiiiide after chores. Becus' I am a good girl. Ask my mommy. I had a nice daaay, even if fahva (father, for you who do not understand english accents) ruined it all last minute. XD He really didn't, and I know he tries to be good and stuff but he fails a lawwwwt. Aha, I'm quite hyper-happy pink elephants right now, so not good for bloggedy blog time. I was so proud of the new layout that I needed to post. And yeah, um, I notice that the moosic player is in this post, but it's because I don't know where to put it with this new layout. o_o'



[EDIT: Actually, I put the musicmaker over there on the left and took it out of this post, ehm, yeah, sorry for le grande inconvenience..]




# - peace out girl scout... xox
Comment what you think of Sir Layout.

Anger on a bratty level.

"I believe, this may call for a proper introduction..."

11.05am.


Absolutely just pissed off. I don't get it. I mean, this year hasn't been all that easy for me. People have it so much worse but I guess I'm just so used to being in my comfort zone. I mean, I'm fourteen. Basically, just a little girl. You can give a little girl a bra and tell her she's a woman... does that make her a woman? Lately, my parents are just.. going too far with the keeping me inside thing. It's just so frustrating, because they know that the only thing that keeps me sane is the outside world. I know you're supposed to trust your blood relatives the most and talk to them when you have problems, but I can't. They don't listen. I tell them important things like school fees are due the next week and when the day comes, they don't have anything ready and they blame me for not telling them. When I try to talk to my mom about my life and why I get so upset about everything, she brushes me off as a dramaqueen and tells me to stop crying. Or shouts at me to stop crying. And we all know, that rarely makes someone stop crying. Well today, the reason I'm pissed off is because incredibly late notice, I have to cancel a girl's day in. After staying in practically all week doing chores. It's too 'stressful'. It's just so annoying, because He said it would be fine last Tuesday. And then he said I have to do chores. More chores. It's getting way too much now. I have 3 weeks left of school and I spend roughly 90% of my time indoors and the other 10% consists of two hours out with my friends or trips to the supermarket. And it would be different if I went out during the year. But I really don't. I don't understand. All other teenagers are outside being teenagers. Having fun. Instead, I'm trapped inside in my pyjamas being yelled at for ironing wrong or lying down because my back is killing me. I sound like such a little brat. But in my head, it's slightly different. And there's this other thing I can't tell anyone even though I already told 3 people who I substitude for family. It kinda puts the other things into a different perspective. Doesn't help that people are saying horrible things about me behind my back. I used to not care, but lately, they're getting to me.

I just needed to let out my childish complaints. Just for the fucking sake of it.
I watched an anime series yesterday, Princess Lover! Only 5 eps were on Zomg Anime but they were funny and cute. I officially love Teppei Arima. He's just way too adorable, I swear, if you watch it, you'll have this urge to hug Teppei. Marlyn Manson is incredibly distracting whilst trying to blog. Blog blog blog. I feeeeel the need to embed the new Fall Out Boy Video.



Because I'm like that. And Brendon Urie's in it... half of Panic! At The Disco now. XD Still kinda angry at Ryan for leaving. He was hot.

Nothing else to rant about this Sunday morning. Will sit in and cry and watch 'Let The Right One In'. Because I'm overly emotional.

Lucy
x <3

Steady as she goes..

Good Mornafternoon, dearies.
14.04 apparently. I'm in an absolutely horrid mood, terrible, atrocious disgusting, so this will most likely be a short post. About random crap. As always.
My back is killing me. Nobody commented on the last post but somebody rated so that means that one person read it but never commented so boo you, whore.

Actually, I'm truly not arsed posting, and if you read this, go comment on the fiction passage down there.

Lucy.

If only things like this really happened....

They sat side by side away from the crowd, sentences tumbling like waterfalls of sweet nothings. Today, she sees him as more than the friend he had been. She prays he thinks the same. The sky is darkened like spilt ink and the biting wind whips her face with her soft hair. She brushes it out of her eyes and closes her arms around her, waiting for the comforting warmth. He pulls his parka hood over his head and puts one hand on her back to support her as she shifts her legs from underneath her to hug. She smiles inwardly, hoping he didn't notice her face contort in the comfort of his hand. He yawns and his arm moves around her, intended, but of course she doesn't know that. She twists and her phone falls into the soft, cold grass. She feels his eyes on her, in an awkward stare. She bends over to retrieve the phone and as she sits back up, he stares warmly into her eyes, entranced. He begins to dive towards her in slow motion, and she knows what happens next. He cups her jaw and his warm, vanilla-salt lips are on hers, and she clings to his back as his tongue brushes her upper lip skilfully and they intertwine in fireworks and flowers and their own unique tastes, and everything both of them could've wished for that Summer. His hands trailed down her neck, around her waist, and he breathed in her warm feminine aroma along with the crisp, cold evening air. A gentle sigh escapes her lips as she pulls away. A whisper slides out of her mouth: 'Things won't be the same from now on...' He shuffled to see if they had an audience but nobody had disturbed their conversations. He puffed air in the direction of the wind. 'No,' he said, simply, 'I guess not'.


[Passage written by... ehm...Lucy, just there. Normal post tomorrow, I promise...Lucy, x <3]

Pity the cynic...

'I'm not over you, I'm not over you just yet, Cannot hide it, You're not that easy to forget...' Carolina Liar


13.57, according to faithful Windows. I trust my laptop with my heart. I'm so hxc nerd. I feel the need to get a nice new blog skin. Everyone has these high tech foot long html code ones. Mine's just a blogger template and Poptart boxes... story of my life.


Just read over Danny's last blog post. I got a mention, a nice one. It's weird how in the space of four days you lose all respect for people. In the space of a month, first impressions fade into a honeymoon period which either make or break how you feel about people. Take, for example, Barack Obama. In Atlanta, Georgia and Los Angeles, posters of Barack Obama, the American President, photoshopped to look like the Joker with the caption 'Socialism' (which is quite a harsh political insult) have been dotted around various public places as some anonymous campaign (click here for poster). Am I the only one who remembers Obama as the first president to promise plain, cold Change, as well as the first president of African descent? It's been a matter of months, and the marriage has settled in and the crazed sex is over and the in-laws are hated too. Sir B-rack to the O-bizzle married into the White House, and I'd say divorce papers are on their way. I don't understand though, people act so nice to begin with. With those huge smiles stretched to their eyebrows and that appealing air like they just want to hug you and bake you cookies and be nice to your forever and always and beyond. And then a few weeks later, they're doing things they vowed not to with people who want you out of their lives completely. It doesn't help that this person you thought was nice has dragged people into it who blame ME for putting MY nose in THEIR business. And speaking of which, anonymously is always better than doing it in front of me, sweetheart. Now, my lovely blogging friends, THAT'S a mention.

Sorry for the 'Boo you whore' type speech, I got carried away for a while on a rant as I always do. I wonder where I'd rant without Muchos and the Gaia General Discussion Forums. On a less cynical note, I had a nice day yesterday with Mel. We bought fishies and talked to the hunky Metallica guy who worked in the pet shop about Bullet albums. Being my blonde self, I didn't realize Bullet was Bullet For My Valentine until about 10 minutes into their conversation. FML. Our fishies names were Dairy-Free Ghetto, Blood Rush Pavlova and Guppy AKA Rainbow. And then we sang songs in English Accents on my Trampoline. Scouting for Girls can only be sang in English Accents anyway, it's law in my opinion.

[insert pause here for Lucy's baff]


15.04, out of bath. Smell much nicer and hair doesn't feel greasy. Keane drowning out the whistling drain with the drones of 'Spiralling..' (quite a nice song, actually). And now Pitbull. My week wasn't eventful again. Except for the fact that I got one whole stinking comment. Thanks guys for your effort and determination. Meh, blogging is like talking to myself. I guess it's a sign of mentality. Grr to girly pains. I'd much prefer being a fella. I'd be quite ugly but who gives a shit? I wouldn't need to shower, I wouldn't need make-up, no girly pains, no birth, no heartbreak just heartbreaking. Lovely. Anyone wanna swap with me and be a girl?



Well, I am off now to do nothing and clean as much as I can. Grr. I read my mom's British Medical Association handbook on 'Stress'. I portray 12 out of 16 symptoms. One symptom is considered stress. I don't know where this..'stress' is coming from, but if it's where the insomnia type thing is coming from, I officially hate it.

LUCY XOXO
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Whores and Horseshoes.

Dramawhores.
I know so bloody motherfucking goddamn cock ass bitch ass fuck face many of them.
They come in dozens, like 'Plastic Bitch Action Figure, get her while her pussy's tight'.
I'm likeee... ch'yeaah, okay, walk away.
Arms around my neck and a knife in my back.

Welllll, apologize profoundly for not posting. I went to Wexforddddd, Irish countryside. Filled with tourists of all shapes and sizes.... mostly round and short though. And burnt. It wasn't terrible, but I truly didn't enjoy myself. There was this hot french/canadian/south african boy and he was all eyes for me. Dreamy, smokey eyes. And his hair was like dirty blonde and sand coloured, like he was blessed and made for me or something. Tall, skinny, with tan shorts and surfer t-shirt, pair of scuffed up vans. I really wish I coulda had a chance, but he had left by the next day and there went the highlight of my holiday. Betcha his name was poetic and sexual like... Pierre or...Gaston. Or maybe it was Peter or something. Hopefully not, that would ruin his sophisticool air. Everyday, my sister demanded beach. As you all know, I'm major freak infinitely. But I also hate beaches with a bubbling, searing passion. The gritty feeling of sand in your toes and panties. And your hair. And every other major boy entrancing body part. And then the smell of rotting carcass and the wind wrecking my hair and the fat lobster women parading around in skin tight bikinis that cut into their fat rolls and muffin tops. It's not an attractive past time imho, but then again, not much is. I missed my friends way too much too. I really can't live without them. Like, I was going stir crazy thinking that gossip was whistling behind my back. Like whistling like a whistling thing on a whistle boat.

Ahaaa, the final Georgia Nicolson chronicle diary thing is out. Hence my version of L33T Speakz. Aka...... retardlanguage2.0. I was like OMFGZZ noes. Because I wanted the series to go on foreverest and infinity and beyond so I would be a mumsie type person and pop to the bookshop to the teenage/young adult section and go 'Ooh looky, "That's when he said my thong was showing...' is out.' I'd be filled with immaturiosity as I walked to the counter and then pick up a Hello Kitty notebook and strawberry scented pen and then write notes about the book as I read it and be all like' Oh, fresh giddy joy, I remember my teenhood and the stoner friends and the underwire and the bubblegum lipgloss and all the male friends that I ended it up going out with...' and then my kids would be like..'OMFGZ cyberspaz attack. Look at mum's meltdown, she's like trippin' hxc to the unck unck beat.' That's my impression of Robo-Juno future slang. I think I didn't do that bad a job. Anyhoo, I finished the book in like 3 hours, because I took a break and gulped down like four cidonas halfway through. It was good and I'm not gonna put any spoilers because anyone who has read to the last book will know that it's kinda fucking obvious who she ends up with anyway and it's not italian bloke, for you bimbos.

Lady Gawgaw.
Well yeah, some peeps are making me Nervy B.
So I'mma go. Short post.
I am really sorry.
Well, peace out, girl scout.
MWAH MWAH
LUCY
XOXO

Poise and rationality...

Sitting here in the dim half-light hitting the furniture from the window, I know this post is going to be a cryptic code that I'll be the only one that'll understand it. Except maybe the person I really want to go online for a much-needed MSN councelling session. I don't know, it's just I feel like she's been in my position before and that I can trust her with this. The falling feeling. It's the only way to describe it. Like you're floating in the air with Aladdin but the magic flying carpet is pulled from under you and you're sent soaring backwards into oblivion, until you smash yourself into the darkness beneath you. Built up to be knocked down. Everyone gets the falling feeling once in a while. It's a major part of the 21st century, where media runs wild, where people are growing more vivid and less inward. I mean it in many ways. We place our trust in people far too easily, and we get betrayed. We fall in love even easier, and it ends in tears and tragedy. Even simple crushes can tear people apart in ways that no others can imagine. That falling feeling is pretty much a bi-monthly thing in the noughties.

I'm in the midst of falling myself. In the car, on my way home, I fought back tears, for fucks sake. I'm not even too sure why. I guess it's the charade that something and someone and yikes, I'm almost in tears just typing. Why is everyone so mean to eachother? I'm angryyyy at evveeeerrytthhhhhiingggggg. Slamming my head against the ironing board for no good reason, just to let it out, just to let the ironing board know that I'm not happy and probably won't be for quite a while. That one motherfucking faghaired gentleboy is just ruining everything for everyone. Why does he do it? Why does he have to meddle with everyone's lives in the space of a few months? He needs to grow up and get a life. I don't even know how I ever crushed on that bastard. He's just.... GRRRRRR. Infuriating. He goes near any one of my friends, and I swear to god, I will rip his testes off faster than he can say 'gtfo'. I don't even understand why? Why at all? Why is everything so goddamn complicated? It can be straight forward and drama-free. It's like I'm living in 'John Tucker Must Die'. Except I'm neither of the blonde pretty ones, nor am I the hot cheerleader or sexual vegan. I'm basically the fat chick with glasses. But I'm not fat, I just have dwindling confidence when I don't gorge on sugar. And no self esteem. I'm tired of faking self esteem. I sound bloody full of myself anyway just saying this but I don't mean it this way. I hate myself. The orange make-up. The overdone eyeliner. The clothes. The hair. The need to hide under my hoodie. It's revolting. Nobody likes me as I am now. Nobody likes me if I change. I can't even hold down boyfriends without getting dumped or getting bored, yet I hate being single. I long to be a muse type person; captivating, beautiful, intruiging. No. I'm just the young girl whose lost in her own perverted little mind that everyone finds too peculiar to function and wishes that people would give her a chance. Yikes.

Well.
That was Lucy's let it all out post.
Which I do a lot. But yeah. I let it all out.
Feel the need to talk to me?
lkbennett@live.com

Lucy
XOXO

An actual post.

Yo, yo, yo, *insert racist slang here and then remove it or censor it because it's cruel*. T'is L-bizzle-to-the-u-c-yizzle. Hard environment to blog in: My bedroom with clothes all over the place and towels over every corner. It's quite confusing because I'm so distracted and lose my train of thought much easier than I usually do. I saw something in the newspaper about Blogger this morning, which was amazing, because Irish newspapers mostly report on stupid D-list celebrities and financial crises and the occasional murder/drug/manslaughter case. I mean, there was a whole page dedicated to the scandal that was Brian O'Driscoll, Irish rugby team captain/large preppy douchebag, being ejected from a booth at Oxegen because he fell on one of the Kings Of Leon WAGS. S'like.. kai kai, boy, you complain. And then the reporter was like 'Brian is an important and valued Irish Citizen'... I don't know what fucking type of rose-tinted glasses these idiots are wearing, but imho, Brian O'Driscoll.... about as important as a toothpick. Anyyywaay, the Blogger report thing. It was an article on married women with affairs and how they anonymously blog about it. They had these clips of the blogs and they put the blog addresses underneath and I was going to go check 'em out but then I was like 'Meh, lazy'... Also, something else in the Irish newspaper that was blog related was that they had found one of their writers on blogger.. Recessionista Chic. She writes about living as fashion-obsessed female in time of recession. I was in my head like, bish, I could fucking do that. Maybe someday someone will find my astonishingly amateur blogging attempts and go 'OMFGZZ, Mister Editorr sirrrrz, small teenage loser who has blog which she bitches to would be great writer for our expensive paperzz, chyeaah!'. As ifzez. Mister Editorzz. Everyone is still all like... 'make up your mind, pretty boy' to gayhaired gentleboy.. As far as I know at least, because I wasn't outside yesterday because my stupid sister has to be 'irresponsible' therefore I must take care of her. 'KTHXBAI, Life, I'll see you when I'm 18 (Y)'. And lately my whole family are so pmt, it's not logical, because my dad can't even have a period. I dropped a piece of paper from my bra and my mom went ape shit crazy. I was like, chiiiillll, you act like I burnt it into the flo', mama jama. Which I didn't. I think I'd remember. Well, nothing to talk about. Yiiiiikes. I'll write later, I pwomise.

LOVE LUCY XOXOXOXO

UPDATEEEE.

Y'ello, my dearies.
Dropping this creation from another location.
So, I haven't posted in agggeeesss. AKA. A couple of days, but in my opinion, ages. I think the lack of comments bar Vicky's usual one (ily, my amazing close follower) put me off posting again. Considering that 3 people at most ever read this blog, I probably don't need to update it AT ALL. But I do it anyway...for those 3 people who I love so dearly simply for being those three people. My life has gotten noticeably more eventful, but it's all stuff that I can't really put on the web without the people involved finding it. I'll be as bloody subtle as possible. A dude with the hair of a gay and the scent of a fish is fucking with people's head again, people who I'd prefer to be happy and safe and unharmed by said Gay Fishy Gentleman. That wasn't as inconspicuous as I had planned, but it doesn't make a difference, because a lot of blokes in my area have fag hair and bad odour and greasiness. I guess it's a teenage thing.

I really haven't done a lot in the past week and a half due to minding my sister and coughing up small mammals, but Sunday was some great craic. We had a girrrllly day, basically because of the Faghaired one being such a fag. We even played dress up because we're such mature young ladies, and we had a hot-chocolate party because tea parties are over-rated.

That was basically an update, and I'll try and make a real post later because I'mma go make a Tagged account now, so peace out girl scouts.
LUCY XOXO

Pros and cons of breathing

G'morning, lovelies. 12.04pm, 24th of July 2009. 3 years away from the apocalypse and the coming of God's raptor.. aka Doomsdragon.


Just listened to After Hours- We Are Scientists.
From the Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist soundtrack. I adoreeee that movie. I only watched it last night, but I can't get it out of my head so I'll probably end up watching it again tonight. It was just my exact type of movie: indie rom-com with weird twist, gays and a band named after a rabbit. I'd say I'll love this movie forever more. Vampire Weekend, We Are Scientists, The Submarines, The Real Tuesday Weld. Quality film making. This sounds very odd, but my favourite part would be the scene in the recording studio. I mean, it's Lucy and the scene's about fucking, you probably guessed already. But I thought it was so adorable, because in the shop the bitchy one was all like 'Oh Norah, I bet you've never even had an orgasm' and then Norah was all flustered like 'Ehh, I don't know' and then the man beside her goes 'If you did, you'd know' and poor Norah was all embarassed, and then in the recording studio they have a decibel reader thing and you just hear her moans and see the monitor take readings and then they show her writhing in pleasure and then he stands up and zips up his pants, Norah follows and off they go. Quick, but I just thought it was so sweet. Also, who wouldn't like to tap Michael Cera? SPOILER: In the end, they find Fluffy but they're too loved up to watch the show and it's like 4am. Considering they were teenagers still in school, I find it hard to believe that their parents weren't fazed by any of it. Oh well, it was still a wonderful movie. Special features rocked too, when Kat did the puppet show. 'I believe in miracles, doin' a stripteease, doin' a stripteeaseee.' Hilarity.

Grr. Father figure woke me up at 10am to make me take pictures, after I got no sleep at all last night because I was coughing like hell and roasting and then as soon as I try to help him to understand the basic way to use a camera, he grounds me for shouting at my mother. As I leave the room, my sister yells at me for wearing her hairband. Through the duration of this escapade, I'm coughing like hell, I hit my head on a shelf and my feet were bleeding. And after, I had a raging headache. FML. I'm just lounging around today, got nothing better to do. Grand Theft Autumn acoustic edition on repeat on my iTunes. Fall Out Boy are so mainstream now, they kinda deplete the whole indie thing that I'm trying to edge towards so I can drop the 'emo' thing. Oh well, if I like music, I like music. It's as simple as that really. Where is your boyfriend at? Just had a cup of tea so I probably won't get much sleep today. I'm trying so hard to tire myself out lately. Sleeping is one of the most difficult activities of my lifetime. It's like I'm having a mid-life crisis. Except it's like mid-mid-life crisis. Come to think of it, my parents never had mid-life crises. They didn't go back to wearing 70s clothes and smoking weed whilst listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival and the Steve Miller Band. They didn't freak out and run around the house looking for bunnies. Or anything of lesser form. Mom got more hormonal, dad golfed more. I wouldn't class that as mid-life crisis. They even sleep fine. It's weird how that's the only time they remain normal. They never were normal parents. I love them anyway, even if we do fight.

I guess you could say I love everyone. Somedays, when I'm in a good mood, I tell everyone I see that I love them and to pass it on. As per usual, nobody passes it on. But it's a nice feeling when people say they love you in any form. It's like 'd'aawwh, thanks for caring'. Especially on the days when it feels like nobody does care, when you're wearing a raincloud as a hat. Maybe that's just me though. There really is no point of hate anymore. I say I hate people but I really don't mean it in as strong as terms as that. I mean it like: they're annoying, occasionally deceitful, bitchy, two faced and slutty... but aren't we all? I have a lot of people who hate me, it's a regular thing, and I end up just living with it. It's a proven fact that one person thinks about you each night. It could be your parent, sibling, friend or secret admirer. Nobody's proven the fact that each night somebody says something mean about you, but I bet that's the case too. Hatred is just...... it's that horrible coffee flavoured one in the box of chocolates we call life. People say they're going to eat it, but in the end, it's left there all alone. That didn't make sense, but my blogs rarely ever do. Maybe I'm going insane. Am I a stone..? Am I a sponge..?

Summer's almost over. I feel like I wasted it, but everyone else is pretty much content with it. I have a month left to do some crazy apeshit stuff, now I just need to motivate the people around me to do the same. I want to get some kick ass ipod speakers and stand outside the playground and mime Jonas Brothers to passers-by and see if we can get them to sing along. I want to stand on a tree and shout out that I love cookies. I want to have a REAL mexican night or a sleepover or go exploring the fields that my uncle owns late at night with flashlights and mobile phones and werewolf bait. But I don't have time for all of that. Maybe next Summer, dearies, maybe next Summer. I guess the least I can do is enjoy myself doing what I do. I'll try and drink ice-tea instead of energy drinks to keep my cool. Ice tea is incredibly vintage anyway. Maybe not. But it tastes hella good. Comment question of the post: Nestea ice tea or Lipton ice tea and which flavour do you like the most? Nestea pwns Lipton in my opinion. And I like the peach flavour best but they dont have that in Ireland so yeah I like the berry one best.


Nothing else to talk about really.
Laptop running out of battery and nobody writes back to me on msn.
I feel like my presence is greatly appreciated. (Y)
Talk to youu later, loseeeers.


Lucy
xoxo

Slower, slower...

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry...





If you are reading this, I officially love you.
Herrow, my blog followers. As I type this, my soundtrack is Broken by Beautiful Letdown, which is a great song that I scored for free from Windows when I surfed Brokencyde's myspace page that had a link to free legal mp3's. It was a good idea, because I downloaded like, 20 songs all by different bands. And I really want to buy the albums now. From iTunes. I haven't pirated in my entire life, nuh uh... *shifty expression*. In reality, music normally distracts me just a little bit from writing posts but my sister's breathing like a dog with lungs made of sieves and sniffling like she's hoping to vacuum coins. I love her, really, but some of her... 'attributes' annoy the shit outta me. Why do eleven-year-olds need to be so loud when their sister's get into the house after a long day of doing nothing?! I don't know. I spent yesterday as I always spend my days, in the playground and the surrounding area. Danny came dowwwwnnnn and he can stay in Ireland which is good except it's all stressful and stuff and yeaaah. I know I really shouldn't blog about this but I'll mild it down anyway... Nicky is way more annoying then originally thought. And if he reads this, you know you don't like me and I'm twice as annoying so it evens out. Soundtrack change: Redlight District, Porcelain and the Tramps. I've been listening to tonnes of P.A.T.T lately. Alaina Beaton is pretty much god to me. I would give my appendix to look like her. Alaina Beaton reminded me of the 'Girls I'd like to tap' list that was made up in the playground. Pretty much everyone would tap Helena Bonham Carter. She's just too shexual, even in Corpse Bride, when it's just her voice. Anyway, back to yesterday! I spent basically four hours in the playground but it was a pretty cloudy day and the atmosphere was quite emo. I took apeshit loads of photos, which I was going to put on my facebook but then the upload terminated after they were almost done uploading. FML much. But they're all on my bebo, and if you want to add me, comment waaay down there. I'm beginning to be all sad again in public. I'm getting worse at the hiding it thing, Efa noticed yesterday. Maybe she was just being inquisitive. She always knows when I'm sad. Peculiar happenings. I don't even have reason at all! I'd understand if someone had terminal cancer, or if something bad had happened, but nothing did. I don't get ittttt. I thought I was over all the depressing shit. Dammit. Soundtrack change: Cookie Jar- Gym Class Heroes. I want cookies now. I know the songs about girls and two-timing and shit, but I still want cookies. I know this song is probably one of the most mainstream things ever, but it's too damn catchy.


Soundtrack change: How to save a life, The Fray. I want to try and soulsearch for you guys. I need to show more truth on this site. I'd like to say exactly every detail of every single feeling but that'd get me in a lot of trouble, as it did back on Cynical and Whimsical. That was my stalker blog. I feel so sorry for that boy. It was a bloody obsession over nothing. It was only cancelled in likeee.... February, I think. I can't remember. I read every post before I deleted it and then I realized how sad it was. That's when I reset. I made the new Lucy, this girl on this blog who is herself who doesn't need some boy to make her happy, although she has one and is content with it. The new Lucy doesn't lie as much, the new Lucy doesn't gossip as much, the new Lucy doesn't complain as much. In honesty, even early teenagehood is just that: lies, gossip and complaints. I was talking to my mom about it a few nights ago, about what it was like to me my age back in her time. She said it was nothing like this, that the worse thing girls ever said to eachother was that their skirt was caught in their knickers followed by some laughter and then an apology. Boy, I wish it were like that. I like to call the noughties 'The Mean Girls Generation'. Yes, the title is based on the movie. You're probably sitting there going... that movie was a work of fiction, stuff measured in dick inches. I beg to differ. I've come across as bitchy stuff as that in my school. Maybe not the fucking in the auditorium storage room, but I go to an all girl school so that'd be quite odd to walk in on. There are cliques in my year. I'll lay it out for you... At the top of the food chain, there are the popuwhores. The popular girls who do whatever their boys want, wear tracksuits and miniskirts, get crappy grades and straighten their hair by the lockers each morning. Then it goes down to the popuwhore followers, who basically trail after the truly popular girls doing exactly what they do except slightly less successfully. Then it's the sports teams, which basically includes most popuwhores and then some other chicks who don't really fall into any other category. Then there are the inbetween type people, like the average people who wear jeans and scarves, who get normal grades. Then it's like the 'alternative' people, who exist and there's no denying it. Some ... 'alternative' people hang out with popuwhores and inbetweeners. Then there are the smart girls.. Don't get me wrong, some of the smart girls are the kindest people you'll ever meet, but the others can be so prissy and horrible. There's these few girls who just look down on me all the time because they're smarter than me and more perfect. I mean, they do too many sports, they are astonishingly pretty without make up on, they dress smart, they get amazing grades and they all play piano or clarinet or flute or something. People don't like them out of jealousy/annoyance. And then there are the loners. I feel so mean for writing all of this, but I'm just telling it like it is. People will greatly disagree with me on this but deep down, they know that even some of it is correct. Everyone will agree with the popuwhore part. Maybe not in my exact word though. It's tough to be part of this whole evil circle of life type thing. You either float or sink. Float, and you become respected and looked upon in jealousy. Sink, and you end up sitting alone. I'm fed up of it already, but I only have ... 4 years left. Niiice. I have a friend who was driven out of our school by bullying and rumours and homophobes. You wouldn't think it would happen in Ireland, but hell, of course it does. Okay, I admit to failing at the soul searching, it was more of a spill of random toxic shit from inside my brain. That happens a lot. I am going to love you and leave youu with my amazing mention from a youtuber that I subbed to and watch! I was like ^-^ when I saw my name on that post-it and she drew a cow and all. She only has 50 subscribers but she's so cute and all so yeaah. I screenshotted my post-it mention.


BTW, she inspired me to make signs for all you followers. So if you want a sign, you write your name in the comments, and I'll get right to it.


Peace out, girl scout.
New post later or something. LUCY XOXO

Ooh, the joy of swinging.

Just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in this song...





Helloooo.
Lucy on zee blog, bayubs.
After reading Shane's last blog post, I decided that I needed to make my blog more mature vocabulary wise considering last post was filled with random blabber that bubbled out of my brain, through my fingers and out onto Muchos Poptart. I'll make this as meaningful as I possibly can without making a presidential speech that will bore you all to pieces. I'll try and strive for the Alice in Wonderland thing that happened ages ago that readers seemed to like. I won't get those results though, that post was after coffee and incense. Good idea to warn you that this is another quite short post because my life isn't very eventful.

Today, I had another pile of realizations. People who read this blog daily will know that a lot of the time my posts include brief realizations throughout my monotonous teenage life. This is one of those kinda posts. I went off to see my grandparents as a surprise because my father's second cousin died. In rural Ireland, second cousins are close family members, as are third cousins twice removed by marriage. I'll break it down: If you're family, you're family. Anyway, back to the visit. It's a two hour journey, one of those incredibly cliché family bonding moments where you sing along to the songs on the radio but then you all end up fighting and being car sick and you can't wait until you finally reach your destination and breathe a sigh of relief that it's over and that you now have fresh air. Seeing my grandparents made a warm feeling spread up my veins, especially my Grandad because he had like 3 strokes and funerals had been arranged and all but I was all upset because I wouldn't have been able to visit him because I was still recovering from the operation. He lived. My parents don't really give people chances; I'm afraid to faint in case I wake up six feet under. As a family group, we headed to a pub, something people off in the country do regularly, I'm guessing. I don't survive well in pubs. Something about the strong, stinging scent of vast amounts of alcohol, the faint scent of tobacco and the greasy, stuffy atmosphere repels me from places like that unless I had extremely good reason. My good reason was that if I didn't go in there, my father would refuse to talk to me for a week or two. He's incredbily mature that way. After a few minutes and two Cidonas, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I was sitting in a corner seat and the thatched roof seemed to drop downward, and the walls seemed to want to brush against eachother. I said I didn't feel so good and dragged my sister out for a walk. My father's hometown is cute, quaint and anything but modern. It's a riverside village with a walk guiding straight beside the waters along to a playground and docks. We strolled along silently. It was a beautiful day, the sun hit the water so that it reflected on to the surrounding boats and rocks and the wind whistled past our ears. We really had no reason to destroy the captivating nature with silly comments or bad phone-speaker-chart-toppers. Stopping at the playground, I noticed something that isn't usual in towns. The playground had no teenagers in it. Where I live, the playground is usually over-run by pubescent boys and girls sitting on swings or under slides or on the benches. Where we were, four and five year olds frolicked on relatively graffiti-free playwear with their parents staring contently from nearby. Me and Kellie dashed for the play equipment. Me being fourteen and her being eleven, we both agree we're too old for playground adventures; But, boy, does it make me nostalgic. It's magical. All the bright colours and the climbing and spinning. Call me easily amused, but I haven't had as much pure, good clean fun in years. Then there were the swings. Totally different feeling entirely. I do my best thinking on swings. And on the toilet, but that's for a different blog post. It's the feeling of defeating gravity if only momentarily, and that shift in the seat when you get to the highest point and how your stomach slightly sways. The flying feeling. I sat and swinged for 20 minutes. In that period of time, my mind emptied itself entirely. I managed to remind myself that everything's gonna be okay. Everything is always going to be okay; It's life. No matter how much happens, whoever you are, it'll all be for the best.

The rest of the day was basically just a mirror image of the start. Except as soon as I walked in the door, it seemed my mutti and vati were bickering again. Will they ever shut their faces for a day or two and let me soak in the serene silence of peace?


Lucy. XOXO

WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PEN?

Those elysian smiles I thought I'd keep forever...



Hello, oh dedicated/lazy fags of readers. See I went for sarcasm at the start of that tribute to you guys but then I decided that I'd have to make it clearer for the blondes and children. Although basically two people read the blog and even then it's usually just one. Props to you, Vicky, for being that one. Errrrm, yeah, so apologies for last night's post. It was an emo day. Except I was outside hyper for it, and then I went home and the sugar rush wore off. And then emo blog post. I'll try and make this as long and detailed as possible but knowing me I'll run off and eat midway and maybe or maybe not publish this later. Just to make it easier for you to understand my settings and location and what not, I am in our sitting room type thingy. I can see over the top of zee laptop, and what is there is the coconut hair painting of a cat stretched out on grass. Not very logical anatomically, it appears to have no elbows. Poor elbowless cat. Anyhoo, I can see my sister typing over on the Apple. She keeps bending over the couch to check her phone. I don't get why she can't just let it reside closer to her. She's a freeeak... Ahaha; says me. She types kinda weird. It sounds like horseys running along on tar. Or cobblestones. Whichever takes your fancy, I suppose. I can also see the kiddie piano that my grandparent's thought I need for Christmas last year. Which 13 year old needs a small fake keyboard that allows you to use two whole keys at the same time? Okay. Scratch all that because I occasionally use it to sing along to Kelsey. I can feel my wet hair down my back and I'm pretty sure the water in it is gonna leave a patch of coldness on my bra. And my morning breath. Reminds me that I need to brush my teeth. That's right, folks, I do forget to brush my teeth, so shoot me. The sun is streaming in the window. Big fucking window. Why is the sun so annoyingly bright? And it always manages to get into my eyes. Mr Sun, Sun, Mr Golden Sun, fuck off and leave me alone. The hilarity if Barney actually sang my amazing lyrics to the little children. Oooooh and then to top it all off: 'I love you, you love me, I'll touch you, don't try to scream.' Hey, Barney producers, hire me to write your kiddy songs. (Y)

In case you guys think the (Y) thing is a crappy internet memeish symbol for cleavage; No, It isn't. It's a thumbs up sign. See the resemblance. The brackets symbolize the hands and the Y symbolizes the creases and shit. Speaking of hand gestures, anyone ever see the collegehumor episode 'Hand Vagina'? You gotsa put your hand's together and then spread the fingers out, and then someone does the same, and one of you's keeps your hands vertical while the other turns them horizontally. Tilt the fingers towards the other person like so the fingertips are parallel to the person. And then MR/MRS horizontal slots their hand between MR/MRS vertical's middle and pointer fingers. And then horizontal person opens their hand upwards and looks inside and there's a vagina. Me and Kate kept doing that one of those indoor Summer days and then we kept getting all squeamish and it was gross. Like we were actually looking at eachother's vagina's except we weren't. We promise. It's even better if you slide a finger into the holey gappy thing and it feels like you're being penetrated not that I would know, but it made my hand all tingly. OMFG, I'm clearly a handasexual. Society will spite me now, they'll build walls around me like the lepers/leopard's way back when in Jerusalem. And then Jesus will come and save me.. *sarcasmface*. Oh yeah, guys, guess what?! We're all gonna die in 2012. Yaaaay. It's pretty damn obvious that everyone is over-reacting just like Y2K. Nothing happened in Y2K. We all lived. Durrh. Because if we didn't I wouldn't be typing this, you wouldn't be reading this, and my sister wouldn't be giving me a headache. If we do all die though, I hope it's like Cloverfield. How cool would it be to see your closest friends and family members all pop from infected alien wounds? Pop goes the huuuuman. I liked that scene in the movie. She went into the tent and then you see this weird explosion of blood and guts and person. Well, that was after she started bleeding out of her eyes. She really shoulda got those symptoms checked out when they first appeared. Silly, silly girl. Was I the only one who thought that actress was the awesome supposed lesbian out of Mean Girls except she was all grown up and mature and didn't have those stupid dreadplaits anymore? Maybe it's just my eyesight. *sigh*.

Some reallly bitchy people are pissing me off of late. Note to self, buy harpoon gun and then have bitchkillingspree and invite other people who would like to see said bitches die painfully. Oooh better idea: induce false labour in each girl after inpregnating them with a manwhore (ahah, people who know me personally will already have one name in their head) and then as they go through excruitiating child birth pain, slit their throats halfway and watch 'em bleed out. Better yet, how about I simply ignore them and stop acting like I hate them with a passion when I really just want to be neutral like Switzerland towards them and then I can stay out of jail for murder/manslaughter and live a happy life as a Vietnamese hobo who isn't from Vietnam.


Well,
I'm going to go now.
So peace out, girl scout.
LUCYXOXO

[[PS:
I set my friends on fire, the musical.
From last year, but the pen song is a classic.]]






Ooh, and look up 'Jody Has A Hitlist'.
They phucking rockkkkk.

Oh, fuck it.

Through the window the watcher came...

Ooohhhhh, I fail. Here's the thing, bishes. I don't post half as much. I'd like to say that when I leave you for a while it builds anticipation, but nah, I'm just too lazy. I'm just remembering the days when I blogged daily, how I could hardly survive without it. I think I'm going back to that stage. I'm not gonna lie, the blog before this one was a dark hole. It was the way I felt, and letting it out was just sweet serenity. I have a perfectly great life, so I guess the thing that always got me down was my self esteem and my parents fighting. I always got dragged into my parent's fights, never my sister, just me. I don't know why, I never really was a normal or good daughter, that's probably the main contribution. Oh, I'm confused, but the main point is that I'm shallow-happy lately. It's the chain drinking energy drinks that keep me awake, hyper and happy. But then they wear off and the two hours sleep shows under my eyes and my mind spirals into a room with no lights on, and I become anti-social. It's how I used to be.. And then I thought it was gone, but clearly not if it's happening now. Doesn't help that I overthink, doesn't help that my family is in serious financial crisis, doesn't help that my confidence fell apart at the seams, doesn't help that people slag me off everyday. I really and truly have no clue what I'm supposed to do from here.

I've got my friends, they don't know I'm feeling down, but they support me subconsciously none the less. When I'm with them, I easily forget where I really am, how I really am. Even if I do make a show of myself, at least I'm distracted. At this exact moment, my head is pounding, my back is aching, and my eyesight is blurred from staring at the lightbulbs up above my head. I'm trying so hard to actually clear my mind. Swishy trees outside, typical Irish images. Dayum, this blog post is lame as fuck. GRRRR. I just don't know anymore, why the fuck am I not happy?!

You guys, if you think you can distract me, add me on msn:
lkbennett@live.com

I really need people to talk to and see if I can find out what's wrong with my bloody mind without stressing out my parents more or annoying my friends with my childish endearments.


Lucy signing out.

UPDATE KINDA.

Heeyyyy.
I kinda abandoned the blog for a whiles.
O:
'Cus I'm a bad pimp.
Ermmmmm, first I would like to start this post with an apology, sorry for not writing, and a statement to Guest9somethingsomethingsomethingsomething that yes, my blog is crap, why did you read it then? All I gotta say is peace out, girl scout. Your face sucks. (:

Also, my blog finally came to something in the reaal world!
It got me a boyfriend who isn't assfaced like the other douches I went out with.
WOOOO GO BLOG. You may have realized that my punctuation in this is crappy and teenaged but I drank waaaay too muchos Relentless today and I am teenaged so chyeeaaah. Well, erm, you guys will probably call me a hoe. But 4 boyfriends in 2 months, imho, boo yah. Don't get me wrong, I respect 'em all individually but I can't help but be proud because erm I became something. A hoe. (:


O: No other news other than that. Saw HP6... not as great as expected.
TTYL.
THIS WAS SHORT UPDATE.
Slatahs.
XOXO

Pottery Glory.

Guess whose back, back, back?
Back again....


Heylo. T'is Lucy. *waves*
I'm back home from Londonnnnnnn, flight home yesterday. T'was boiiiilinggggg in England, my make up melted off before I was on the bloody plane. So, I've decided to make a tiny summary thingy to just update yas on like... right now. Because the present is a present.

Time: 11.00am exactly. O.o
Activities: Blogging, here, and watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. And texting Kate and eating a biscuit thingy from McVities.
Sounds: My sister typing, Me coughing and dramatic Harry Potter musics.
Closest painting: A cat sitting in a garden of poppies and daisies done using coconut hairs. XD
Closest human: My sister.... she's 11 but she's so damn cute. LMAO.
Wearing: Just a neon pink bra, grey knickers and a stripy navy and blue dressing gown with pink trim.
Latest favourite quote: 'You're not going mad, I can see them too' - Luna Lovegood.
Smells: Fresh air and my feet. Hahaa.
Currently hating on: Professor Delores Umbridge.... -.- Fucking hoe.

Overall, London was pretty awesome, if hasty and hot. Dad was incredibly volatile for the whole trip, like.... a volcano. Like he was baking soda and someone poured vinegar on him. He took it out on me the whole time, and yeah, I'm a brat, a goddamn one at that, but like... christttttttttttt, I started crying in a restaurant when he told me he never met someone as big a disappointment to the phrase 'human'. I was like... man. You might aswell pour salt in my eyes and not expect me to blubber. But London was packed with great experiences anyway... likeeee... Madame Tussauds and Camden Market and Whiteleys and... erm.... awesome English Starbucksness. Oh chyeeaaaahhh and that hot emo guy I saw on the streets and when he walked past, I managed to accidentally trip myself up when I wasn't even walking. I was like FML BITCH. I also began reading Angels and Demons by Dan Brown, the sequel to the Da Vinci Code. It's purdy awesome, because I'm big into conspiracies and cryptology. It also talked about a Bernini sculpture called the Ecstasy of St. Teresa. The passage that the sculpture is inspired by is from a book written by the said saint, and if you read it in the wikipage, it sounds pretty... kinky. In Brown's book, it talks about the sculpture as a work of art of sexually explicit nature, it says... and I quote that the sculpture showed St. Teresa 'in the throes of a toe-curling orgasm' from the angel. And after reading the passage... it sounds like it. XD I don't know, I linked up there for you guys to judge for yourself. ROFLMAO and the sculpture is placed within the Vatican City.

I really don't got much else to say TBH. Which is surprising, but like.... erm. Yeah. Peace out. Link to the Harry Potter lexicon, I'm in a Rowling mood.

LUCYYYYYYYY
XOXO
ILY

Post From Londonnnnnn #2

Heylooooo, my homeys. (:
I'm still in Lundunnnnnnn. :P
Camden today, not yesterday, my bayubs.
Billy Elliot last night, sparkly extravagant bollocks.... I loved it. LMAO.
There was a scene near the end when he writes a letter to his dead mother and I almost cried, I like.... bit my lip and was like 'Don't cry, be strong'. Funnyness.
I went Madame Tussaaauuuudsssss.... the queue is 2 hours long so it wasn't really worth it. On the plus side, pictures with Obama, Audrey Hepburn, Britney, Amy Winehouse and a crappy looking Michael Jackson. The Scream exhibit was awesommeeeee though, it said nobody under 12 and nobody with epilepsy or high blood pressure and I was wondering why so then me and mom did it and it was like O: 'cause actor thingies popped out at every corner and followed you around and growled but they were generally scaryyyy like and there was puffs of smoke and sirens and wax figurines of people being hung and Vlad the Impaler and shrunken heads.... frickin' awesommeeeeeeeeeee.

Well, I gotta go find my sister so we can go market trekkking.
ILY
LUCYYYYYYYYY

Lundunnnn Blog Numero Uno.

Helloooo.
'Tis Lucy, posting from le grande land of fish and chips.
England. London, to be precise. The hotel's club lounge has a shitty keyboard so this will undoubtedly be effing short. To be honest, on the plane, I kept thinking of Final Destination. It put me off soooo much, like, whenever a tiny bit of turbulence erected (kinkyyy) I'd jump a metre outta my seat. We arrived safe and sound though and then got a trainnnn to Liverpool St. from Stansted and then the underground to where we're staying. S'like yaaaaaaaaaaay. We searched all the retro thrift stores around here, there are seriously tonnes, like one of every three shops is a retro store. Some of it was radddddd but I'm too poor to afford it, and my mom wouldn't let me get the choker with the metal spikes along it because she said it would injure someone. Phuck you, Mom. /Karma. Then I went to this little boutique thing that Alesha Dixon shopped in and got these adorable black socks with tiny red bows along the back and they go just above my knees but when I was trying them on in the hotel, one of the cute bows fell off /facepalm. We went to another teeny boutique and got this nautical themed dress thingy and it looks so cute on me (: (wearing it as I type). Then we walked for hours and ate, although I would've easily settled for one of the various KFC's. My dad was cranky allllll day and took it out on me, so that ruined everything. I mean, it wasn't just little things, he just lashed out with truthful/hurtful things and then praised my sister. I was like... boo you, whore. So todaaay, I think we're going Camden market and then Billy Elliot laters. In my purrrrdy dress. (:


TTYL LOSSSEEEEERRRRRRSSSSS.
LUCY XOX

Look, Lucy bothered to make a long post. So you gotta comment. (:

Higher heels and lipstick napkins,
Dying is your latest fashion...
I kissed your lips, you pulled my hair,
it was the craziest thing,
I love the girls who love to hate...



Hello Theree.
Lucy here at 2.45pm, bitches.
ANOTHER day inside. I swear to God, I'm going to go stir crazy.
Everyone is, laike, busy lately. And I'm not. Somedays I wish I had the rockstar lifestyle with like a killer mansion and a pool and the ability to play guitar and use loop pedals and have lifetime supplies of poptarts and 800 personal trainers to work off the poptarts. Well, anyways, I'm trying to make this post into one of the longers ones where I outburst on my exact thoughts about everything that has reared it's ugly or pretty head in my life. Like.... even just famous people dying in threes.



Topics that Lucy is planning on putting in this bitchass blogpost extravagasm:

• Lucy's bad skin day.
• Lucy's sore back.
• How both of them relate to the hormonal overload that comes with that darned time of month.
• Scrubs.
• Summer.
• Lucy's new boyfriend.
• Lucy's thoughts on people magnifying people's achievements when they die.
• Danny's blogpost inkstamp.
• Men and how they embrace their homosexual side a lot less than women.
• Hypocrites.
• Lazy people on Lucy's msn contact list.
• How effing sore Lucy is right now.

And none of those will be in that order by the way. I'm going to attempt to tackle them all whilst MSNing Danny and Jonny. But now Danny ran off to have a shower. xD

So yeah, I had a shitty skin day today and a sore back. Probably the main contributors for me not to go outside, along with me being a lazy fuck with an inner fat kid who protests when I walk from the couch to the tv to turn up the volume. Well, wanna know whats to blame for the pizza face and the sore back? The wonder that is womanhood. I mean, thanks Eve, for eating that fucking apple. Now we got bleed through our vaginas 80-something days a year. And it'd be okay if it were painless, but it's like there are cavemen trying to barricade my lower stomach unsuccessfully so they come back with their tiny stone daggers. Fuck you, big Kahuna, you couldn't have made me a late bloomer? Oh wait, you kinda did. You put me through the pain but then forgot to give me boobs. Thanks, man.

The new Scrubs season SUCKS! They're cancelling Scrubs too, after making a movie, which sucks more. But like.... it used to be so awesome! I still love it, but I love watching the re-runs with the funny, sarcastic, cynical satires that Dr. Cox shoots at J.D every episode and the unicorn rainbow fantasies of J.D when he gets into work. And there used to be great guest appearances like Mandy Moore and shizzle. Now it's just Grey's Anatomy con queso. That was Grey's Anatomy with cheese. But you get what I'm saying. I think. Oh, I'll shut up now. XD

Ahaa, my bizzles, it's Summer 2k9! I really hope you're all enjoying the sunshine, fresh grass and seaside trips. I mean, here in Ireland, it's more like rain, bad sun burn days and Mcdonalds's trips on the bus, but like... I guess that's what makes it Summer. Irish Summers compared to the media interpreted American Summers are shitty. America has the little kids with the lemonade stands and the sixteen year olds surfing and the adults lounging around with ice tea while the toddlers zoom around on their tiny Dora scooters and drink juice. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an American-media-interpreted life? ROFL. My Summer got off to a bad start originally, I started with confidence that got squished by the two semi-simultaneous break-ups and I failed a lot. XD But now, I have a boyfriend who cares, an Asian friend, piles of other great friends and my imaginary boobs tanned after they burnt, and I have a tiny white sun-o-grammed tattoo from where my eyeliner heart was. And we went to McDonald's. It's gonna be jampacked with memories and private jokes, I can feel it. And then we're back to school for the junior cert... fuuuuunnn.

Lucy is going out with Jonny. (: Yaaaaay.
Difference between Jonny and significant other boys is that Jonny isn't a douchebag who'll use me. Sorry to anyone who knows the other boys, I don't mean it harshly, but they were douchebags. Haha. So yeah Jonny. ;) xD

I'm absolutely certain that unless you've been living under a rock or a house or a bridge without any form of communication with the outside world, you've heard about the untimely deaths of legends Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett and Billy Mays. The thing that has been pissing me off about it is the way they are being treated after they died. Michael Jackson was always slated by everyone I know. Like, whenever playing with children was mentioned in an innocent way, somebody would mouth off 'Don't be such a jacko' or 'Future Michael'. It was even in Scary Movie. In like... two of 'em. XD But now, everybody is trying to boycott the cruel taunts and they're all upset and heartbroken. C'monnnnn. You can't go around saying you're tainted for life because a) you didn't personally know the bloke and b) there's a 99% chance that you've made nasty comments on him before. The thing is... it always happens. Rapists die everyday, but at their funeral, the eulogy will stay completely away from the topic, targeting the good things like that day when he was 5 when he saved a puppy or how he visited his mother once a year. A great woman/my English teacher once explained how people are made greater in death than they are at life, and that has got to be a part of my philosophy.

This morning I was eating with my dad at the table, when I put on some music on my laptop. Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. As usual, my dad remarks snarkily 'isn't that a bit soft for you?' and I deemed it rhetorical. So then Oprah comes on the tv, and she has Valentino as a guest host. My dad suddenly becomes very interested and closes my laptop. Valentino is a fashion designer. Slightly hypocritical considering my father just asked if I'm going soft and he's watching Oprah while a fruitcake who designs clothes is babbling on in an italian accent about shoes. PS/ I'm not anti-gay, I <3 gays, but fruitcake is the only word that describes Valentino. That was the pink side of my dad showing but it made me think about how guys act around each other. I mean, me and my girlfriends grab each other randomly in the booball area and hug each other and shtuffs. Our guyfriends don't do that with eachother at all. Unless it's spin the bottle (lmaooo). It must be like, testosterone fuelled. I think 80% of girls would like to see guy's wear their hearts on their sleeves in that sense.

Hypocrites.
Annoying, right?
Celbridge is filled with them, at every corner, on every wall, in every shop, in every house. It's an infestation of people who diss something and then end up doing it. Like... all the girls I know are bitches. I'm not gonna lie, I am too, but none of us can go a day without bagging on at least one person. But they end up going apeshit if you do one bitchy thing that steps outta the league. And then they go and do that thing themselves. It's like... grrrrrrr. It doesn't make sense but it's an attaching segment of the circle of life. Reminds me of mean girls.

There are so many lazy bitches on my msn. Like, I talk to them and they reply in monosyllables. There are like a few people that I can talk to for ages but they're filled with intellect and are usually not online. Karma.

As you can see, Lucy started getting lazy as the topics moved on. Lucy's a lazy byotcchhhhh. Haha, Oh yeah and pain = 100000/10. It's hell, and Nurofen is phailing at helping.

So, peeps, I'm going to go now and leave you with a copy and paste of the msn conversation where Dannysaurus attempted to inkstamp this very blogpost with some wise words of Western wonder. Although neither Asia or Ireland are in the west. I just like alliteration. (:

LUCY XOXO


vvvvvvvvv

[Dannysaurus] says:
Rawr, right, waddya want for an input again?
Lucysauruss.☮❤ ;] says:
durno
you just say shit
[Dannysaurus] says:
Bahh >.<
My overused "thing" is like: Normal's overrated
I need a better "thing" >.>
Lucysauruss.☮❤ ;] says:
lol just say hi to my readers or something!
[Dannysaurus] says:
Ohhh
Fail Dannysaurus is fail >.>
Lets see
RAWR! Awesomesauce "HI" to Lucy's readers!
p.s: Rawr means "I love you" in Dinosaur :3
Fook that be cheesy >.>
Nyeh, fail day, fail words
Lucysauruss.☮❤ ;] says:
its all going up anyway xD

Fat Bitch. (:

'Bad uterus, don't do that.'
-Dr. Cox on the phone to J.D's mother.

Hello, oh twenty five of my closest followers/only followers.
Lucy chooning in with you liveeeee. Kinda. :P
It's 12.43 pm, and I'm having another lazy day because the only people I really hang out with are going to Metro Station and I'm too lazy to go anywhere else. I'mma watch the rest of Cloverfield and Edward Scissorhands and possibly bake cookies. Ahaha, Watching Scrubs as I type. Relatively distracting but the episode is 'My Urologist', the one where J.D first notices Kim.

The episode topic is quite intruiging in my tiny blonde head. Turk shows J.D that as soon as a woman has a wedding ring on their finger, they disappear ffrom J.D's sight. Turk persuades the ladies in the room to remove the rings from their fingers and J.D realizes that Brown Bear was right. I loved his reaction to Gift Shop Girl being married, and he thought she was dead. That made me POTFL (piss on the floor laughing). But the episode's making me think.... Has anything to do with a person made them relatively invisible to you? I mean, anything. Like race, face, way they act, religion... anything. I remember when I was little, the travelling community or people living in counsel estates used to be crossed outta my mind. Ireland is a backwards community, we think of people shallowly and we can't see through the outer shell. As I grew up, I cared less and less and now it's pretty much gone. Astonishingly, this all ties in with the book I read last night. My mom lent it to me..... the book named 'Whose life is it anyway?' was about a girl who had Irish parents but grew up in London. The parents were constantly hanging on to the heritage, with rebellion anthems and leprachaun lawngnomes and Irish dancing and hurling. The book had a nice format, it constantly switched from the future to the past...... The future was her, meeting a lovely man named Pierre who fell for her at first sight, soon after he read her light-hearted cynical column on life in a local tabloid. They moved in together after a month and five months on got engaged, without her parents knowing. Pierre was a black french agnostic who certainly would not be approved of by her parents and she slowly starts introducing them etc. The past is her growing up, the story of her sister's teenage pregnancy and how her sister then fell from grace in her father's eyes, her stories of the teenage disco with octopus boys who tried to put their hands down her pants. It's a great book, cheesy, romantic and desperately feminine, but of course a sap like me enjoyed it thoroughly. At the end of the book, all was well, yada yada yada, not realistic, but it made me smile.

Frasier's on now. Took me fifteen minutes so far to on-off write this one post, and I'm still thinking of something smart to write about. Ahhhh here we go, I just remembered a question my mom asked me seriously last week. What career I had planned for my future. WHAT THE HELL? I'm 14, I have no talents and I suck at maths. I was praying on being ran over before I even have to deal with exam results, or just being a hobo. My mom suggested nursing. Way to go, Mom, I get that I can't do much. It didn't help that she knows I hold a grudge on hospitals and medical institutions everywhere, but I'm squeamish and I don't like causing people pain. Okay, maybe I like causing pain but not to little kids and old people. Well, I told her something creative. She was all like gushing with 'Photography, you're great at that!' which is ironic because I suck at it and she knows it. I said journalism or creative writing but my mom frowned. Nice to know she has so much bloody faith in what I'd like to do. XD

Well, I gotta go wash my hands because they're annoying me,
and I'm gonna go eat a rasher sandwich in a sec. Fat bitch. LMAO.




COMMENTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
(:
Lucy XOXO

For an awesome band with killer choooonnssss, click here (:

Female Anatomy and How Much It Sucks.

I got your picture, I'm coming with you, Dear Maria Count Me In.....

Hai there, my buddies.
23.42, Saturday night.
And I'm rather tired and sore and quite irritable.
Don't get me wrong, I had a good day.
Just feeling kinda down.

My morning consisted of getting up early for no reason.
I don't even know why at all, I just woke up and then hadda shower.
And then trekked off to Tesco for grocery shopping.
Men don't realize it, but one of the most embarassing things that a woman does in her life is shop for tampons and sanitary towels. I was asked by my mom to pick up three packs of 'em. And god, the stares I got were astonishing, but it was paranoia, I know it. But it was like dagger stares, like tiny little ninja knives being thrown straight at me from peoples optical genitalia AKA eyes. The rest of the shopping went well. I picked up some haribo and doritos for mexican night, which is just technical term for movie with nachos. Another complicated thing that occurs in your local grocery store: brown bread. Otais, it doesn't sound complicated, but heelllllllll. There are four hundred types of brown bread. Like wholemeal soda bread and then granary and like OMFGZZZ I almost had an aneurysm trying to get the stuff my mom likes. In the end, my dad took one glance and swooped it.

FML muchos. XD So at 6pm, Jemjem, Christopher, Keevadactyl agus Jonny came to my crib and we had mexican night *thumbs up*. We watched Final Destination, the original movie. Field trekked and took pictures, drew smileyfaces in cowshit. That was Chris, cus the rest of us are sensible and do not fling crap using large branches.


Heyyy. Dudes.
Haha I started this post last night. But I'm gonna finish it now. Because I'm like that. Mother took away the laptop at like 12.00am. Apparently, that's past my bedtime and therefore its crazy unacceptable and I'm a total disgrace to the teen population of Ireland. Damn Christian's. XD

Just watched Love Actually with my sister, fucking awesome movie. It's just..... packed with my favooouuuritteeee actors including Hugh Grant (nomnomnomnom) and the late Natasha Richardson (may she rest in peace). And it's like one of those 'D'awwwwh' packed movies where sensitive chicks like me cry four hundred times and then be all jealous at the maliciously skinny gorgeous actresses with flowing platinum tresses that make me feel/look like turd.



Staying in today.
'Girl cramps'.
TMI, I know, but too much information PWNS no information.
Might post later on the values of Nurofen connected to Girl Pains.
LUCYLOVESYOU
XOXOX<3

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle..

Cut His Teeth On Turquoise Harmonicas... Oh Oh Oh.



Is it pathetic to say that Scrubs makes me cry in... almost every episode?
Emoness. I durno, it's just they build it up realistically and then it's like *eye prick, moisture gone, oh look im crying*. Scrubs is my loiiifeee. It was the episode where JD's brah has the hotts for Dr. Elliot Reid; Kinkkkyyyyy. Because like Elliot Reid + JD's Brother= HAWWWWWWWT. Randomness. I fill these blog post with random shit because I know you guys space out at about this part of the para shitnipplesvaginabumcuntfuck graph.


See what I did there? *eyebrow raise*
Errgghhh, lately I've been feeling kinda down for no reason, like.... I'd go from being happy to sad and then sadder and then sadder and then feeling like shit about myself. I guess there was the 'blow to self esteem' that y'all know about. But laiikess, I thought I was over that. It's funny how my view on being Lucy changes almost everytime I post. Last time, I was all proud and comedic about it, this time it's more... pessimistic. Lucy.... I durno. People just hate me, they hate my guts, and I try so hard for them not to. I used to pretend I was someone else, but now I'm being Lucy and it's not any better than being a faux. I mean, I'm clumsy, it takes me four tonnes of make up to look beautiful, I can't run for my life, I make too many mistakes, I have unhelpful amounts of blonde moments, I can't stay in a relationship for more than a week without a huge load of perserverance and *grin-and-bear-it*, I actually just fail at life. The hilarity of it, that I'm blessed with so much, but yet, it feels like life is being lived elsewhere. I guess some of it is the lack of freedom. My parents always say that they trust me but when it comes to what other teenagers do... no, I'm restricted.

When I was younger, the lack of freedom didn't effect me, people wouldn't make fun of me for it like they do now. I just wish that I could be somebody else, like... be trusted and treated equally with my sister and stuff. I dunno. I have no clue what I want, and probably never will, but I know that that is one of the things that's getting me down.

Farah Fawcett + Wacko Jacko...
DEAD.
Farahhh.... terminal cancer, so relatively expected.
Jacko, outta the blue 'cardiac arrest'.

Ahahaha,
My head is totally poundingggggg.

Todaayyy consisted of me, Keeva, Jemma and Dylan trekking to MC'D's and then meeting G there, and then there was the drive thru thing which was kinda funny, cus we thought it'd be a good idea to walk through the drive thru but we pussied out last minute and made our way to the bus stop. Then we chilled in the playground, Cillian and Dave came out, then Dave was pushing skags on the swings and Chris came out for laiiikes ten minutes and then Dave + Chris were all hyped for Marty's party but with what's being said around the place, it sounds like it's going to be a drunken fuckfest. XD I'd be worried at that. Asian meeting set. I sound racist, but I'm really just being factual, and we <3 town=" mutual">


So I'mma love you and leave you.
Comment, follow, plug.
LUCY XOXOX

2'k9 (: Bayubs.

I'm coming down, bring me up, take it off, let's just touch...
☮❤


Yola,
my buds.
It's Lucyyyyy.
I'm probably here with a longer post. To be honest, this blog is just spiralling downwards, it always wasssss. So it probably will be deleted by the end of Summer 2'k'9, my pretties.
Unless you comment and get your friends to comment and your mothers and cousins and that pervy indian man who added you on Facebook. And follow. And shizznit. (:

Comment question: How is your Summer?
My summer so far has basically been a fail, what with the break ups and the continuous blondeness and that day where I left my house in a tutu and hot pants and thought I didn't look like a whore and then yesterday I burnt my boobs, and I lost someone's shoe a few days ago. I'm a walking fail. XD I guess it's who I am, like Keeva's the gorgeous emo one, Ashling is the tall non emo one, Jemjem is the slightly shy scene-haired one, Dave is the guitar obsessed sex-haired one, ermmm and the others im not assed describing. But yeah, I'm Lucy, the weird one who fails a lot and winks at little boys. Haha. And I'm the one who is both the clumsiest and least athletic. The others can run for their lives, but my inner fat kid stops me. Well, I'll always have the good summer memories like Jones and skittles and sun and grass fights and the 69 signs everywhere. Oh god, I'm reminiscing on something that's not even over! ROFL.

Boysssss. God knows when they'll ever grow up. It's not even singular boys, it's the fucking SPECIEEEEEEEEEES. They mess with our heads, like.. put their hands in, alter our brains and then break us into pieces. TBH, never truly experienced being heart broken, but judging from others and little pieces of evidence. Know what I mean? And then Twilight with it's magical BS telling us that boys have crooked smiles and sweep us off our feet and sacrifice their lives. XD So clearly, the media is screwing us over, just like the boys themselves are. I'm not making so much sense this morning. Metro Station to the brain. I <3 Trace and his emo douchebaggery *quote from Smosh's 'Unitarded'*. (:

Next band having a Metro Station Effect...3OH!3. They're going mainstream like..... twsshhhh. It's so damn annoying. I liked being all indie-techno with my music. Brokencyde better not fly onto Spin1038 or FM104. I would kill myself, or just chop my ears off so I wouldn't have to listen to the horrible fan girl crys of 'BC13 MOTHERFUCKERSSS' and they'd all die their hair green and wear fuckloads of eyeliner and tiny studded belts around their heads. Ughhhhhhhh. That'd be the apocalypse. I'd go into hiding.



Well, that's it. Because there's no in school gossip cus I'm not in school.

But anyway.... KEITH AND CHRIS MET.
XDXDXDXD

LUCY LOVES YOUUUU
(:
~XOXOX

B00.

Crazy apeshit bullshit procrastinate penis.
Yo, homeskillets.
A lot has happened since the last post. And it's only my fault that I haven't posted.
Well, about 10 minutes after I posted, that relationship ended. And then the night before last another one started, and last night, he ended it. I was broken up with twice in two weeks... hahaha. I fail. Oh well. I felt pretty shitty about it for likeeeee the whole night but then this morning it was like 'Ahh fuck it, it's Summer, and he's pretty gay'. Likeeeee. Yeah. He is gay. To be honest, most of the boys in my area are going to end up homosexual or homeless. Because it's a rural town, practically just a farm with a Tesco and Xtravision. I mean, most of the kids hang at the playground or tesco or in their houses, it's certainly not suburbia, or anywhere else for that matter. It's...original in a shitty way. Likeeeeeee........ ermmm......Al Gore.

ERgghhhhhhhhhhhh.
Well yeah.
TTYl,
just a brief update.
LUCY XOXO

Mehhh crushes.

OH Haaaiii.

Well you know how I said that I wasn't dumped?
10 minutes after I posted, I got dumped. His reason: He didn't have enough time.
*Cough* LIE *cough*. The next day Keeva and Keith told me zee real reason was because he didn't like hanging out with me. IRONYYYYYY muchos. I dunno. Anyways, I was surprisingly upset by it all, and spent my morning moping, crying and eating noodles, but then Ashbear, the saviour that she is, came over and we ate expensive Swiss chocolate and oreos and watched Harry Potter and The Chamber Of Secrets. And threw bracelets at his msn picture on my computer screen. Jonny was a lot of help confidence-wise, with all this self-esteem boosting 'you're smoking hot' talk and 'he doesn't deserve you'. Fun fun fun. XD Fuck him, maaaaaan. I gots my own life and I'm moving on to bigger *oo-er* and better things. I already like two new people. That's a confusing dilemma though. Because I do still like the ex. Dammit. I have strong feelings for all three of 'em. Fuck them hormones, they ruin everything. Roflmao.

Welllllllllllz, I have a photoshoot with Scotford tomorrow, me and Keeva be posing. Likeee.. supamodels. Merissa and Fiona did a shoot, and the thing that struck me was the clear skin. Nobody our age has clear skin... especially Fiona cus she doesn't wear foundation. Scott edited out all the crapness, so me and Keeva will have all these photos of us looking spectacularmazingasm. (:

Errrmmmmmmmmmm, oh yes, and there's this other thing about a dastardly cheating boyfriend who has this hottie, intelligent girlfriend and is cheating and it's all tangly and oh noesssss... it's turning into a Mean Girl/John Tucker fiasco. :(


That's really it, in fairnessssss. Although yesterday, that was fun, reeeaaaaal fun.

Hahaha. Well I'mma go.
So TTYYLLLLLLLL losers/lovers.
LUCYXOXO