Erised Stra Ehr Oyt Ube Cafru On Wohsi

She pored into the rabbit hole and at what seemed like the bottom was a kaleidoscope. Her back arched forward as she attempted recklessly to get a better look. The exotic shades were so different to the beige and grey of her surrounding world; before she could yield it, she felt her body tumble forwards as she twisted and spiraled. After a while, she felt the sickening pull of Gravity‘s grasp as she was plunged into darkness. A blink... and there before her muddy green eyes was a utopia of sapphire streams and soft downy grass. The air was fresh and crisp, tasting like youth in her mouth. She began to stroll leisurely, arms wide ‘til she stumbled across a white hare carrying a copious pocket-watch...

If you could choose any wondrous escape you wanted, right at this very moment in time, what would it be? You‘ve seen mine, so fill me in on yours. Best comment receives a mention.

I‘m deeply sorry about the long delay between posts. Mocks are coming up and there are so many things on my mind, and to tie it all up, I betcha I‘ll be single for valentine‘s day. I‘d say yes to anyone‘s offers now. Mostly because I basically fancy everyone I know. Anywhoo, I had a breakdown this morning. I haven‘t had one in literal ages so it probably would‘ve happened sooner or later, but I really thought I was over all of that. All through first and second year, some mornings turned out wrong. I‘d be getting ready for school & I‘d look in the mirror and suddenly totally freak out. I‘d lock myself in the bathroom and sob and scream like a crazy person, hyperventilating. My dad had to talk to me through the door and coax me to open it. When I finally reluctantly opened it, they‘d stand there silent and just stare at me, and I‘d get that atrocious burning feeling that I get when people are being condescending or judgmental so I‘d shout at them to stop staring at me with my hands over my ears. The next stage was fetal position on the cold, tope tiles. BTW, if you're reading and judging, go away. Because I'm typing this out to make me happy.

Anyway, on those days, I'd always be late for school and people would ask me where the fuck I was and I‘d always have to lie, and their questions made me feel worse. Today, I kind of just felt everything in my head explode and I was doing all my usual things and I told mom everything I felt bad about, like not having the trig homework done for two weeks because I was too embarrassed to tell the teacher I didn‘t understand it because she's a bitch to me and stuff and all the other things and how I look and the self harm and everythinggggg. And there were 3 more tries of re-doing my make up and then I gave up and gulped down 3 cups of extra sugary tea and talked with mom and dad and we came to the compromise that today dad would go through trigonometry and pythagoras &tc at home instead of going to school. I feel a bit better though, shakey and anxious, but better. I know, I know, big deal out of nothing but it always gets to me a lot.

Dad googled me and found my twitter, my facebook, my plurk and, get this, Keeva‘s blog. He went all angry red coloured and then started questioning me about head shops and whether I state my address on websites. I learned a valuable lesson from it though; I need to adjust my privacy settings. That was last night, and it did contribute to my stress levels. Tonight when I was getting my laptop off mumsy, she asked what I was planning on doing. I was so tempted to go 'having lesbian cyber sex with women who are planning on leaving their husbands on facebook chat' but I didn't because that would be taken seriously by my chocolate-covered lemon of a mother. Oh well, no big deal after all, it's done and dusted etc.

OMG more 'drama'. I don't know, I don't really want to dwell or anything on the topic, so I'll just say that it's pretty fucking stupid to be making such a big deal about 'being two-faced' when a) you're practically three-faced, b) I‘ve done worse before and I hardly did anything and c) Haiti. There. Done. I feel better.

I think I'll end this post with an extract from a poem I read today in a book of my sister's. It's by Christina Rossetti, I hope you like it as much as I do:

 ________________________________

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of thoughts that I once had

Better by far that you should forget and smile

Than you should remember and be sad. 
________________________________

Comment please.

Lucy

xoxo

EDIT: mention if anyone in the comments figures out what the title is.

          and who clicked crapola? >.>

Love and Stuff.

Winter is slowly passing by. I can see it in the iridescent turquoise skies and feel it in the fresh, biting air. The sky is rich and creamy at eight in the morning instead of clouded and inky, and the grass is a pulsing emerald. The only sign left to happen is the budding of tiny new leaves from the currently sword-like, coal branches that embrace each and every tree. I love spring: the tiny birds chirping their welcome, the petite marshmallowy snow-drops like little, growing church bells, the whole world plunging itself into a technicolour paint bucket. It's an inspiring time of year for new beginnings & dying grudges; the year's exfoliation. With every season, it's a set change. Brand new experiences and images everywhere, new shades and tones, and different emotion is in the air. Spring is the time for love...and stuff.



Teachers are going into overdrive on the exam front. Homework homework revision homework. I should really stop complaining about school but jesus, it's only my junior cert and they act like it's a huge, profound indicator of my future. Ehm, tbh, if I end up doing religion studies or political studies, I'll kill myself. Speaking of which, I still haven't gotten to have my talk with the guidance councellor about my future. He canceled on Monday for Monday, re-scheduled for this morning but yesterday, I was informed he'd have to re-schedule for tomorrow. Will I everrrrr get to discuss my career and plans? I need some guidance(rofl). Moving on; I've been feeling so crap about myself lately. I've put on weight over Christmas and because of the state my back is in at the moment, I can't start aerobics or exercise. Seriously, I can't stop eating and my skin is breaking out and the more it happens, the more I need comfort food. I've been thinking of fasting. eating as little food as my parents will let me. I wasn't gorgeous before but now I'm just AGHH. Anytime I look in the mirror, I have to bite myself as a distraction. Hello, Mrs. Pretty-giving-overnight Fairy?



What's the deal with the delay in Haiti? It's been a week since the destroying, seven-second earthquake on the island and there still isn't enough aid going out there? In CSPE on Tuesday, Mr. Kennedy (substituting for the wicked witch Ms. McEnery) said that Haiti, being on the same geographical island as the Dominican Republic, was the first country of black slaves to rebel against the force controlling them, which was France. Ever since they 'had the cheek' to try to restore their freedom, they have been shunned by the surrounding area. It was the same with the natural disaster in New Orleans. New Orleans is populated mostly by African-Americans. No matter how much we deny it, America and a lot of other modern civilizations are incredibly conservative, and therefore racist. To get to my question, what fucking idiots hold a grudge from over 200 years ago, which stops them from helping people who experienced a disaster which could destroy their country? Comment.





Short post. Roight.
I must go because my back is causing my serious pain.
LUCY X

I wanna bathe you in the light of day...

The snow has died. It's clinging on for dear life in every nook, cranny and grey stained corner. But you know, the ice mistress is no match for the powerful, haunting grip of the rain king. I'm not so delighted at the recent return to normal weather, but I was getting totally fed up of all the snow. It was cold and icy and gave my 'rentals a reason to keep me inside and make me study. Speaking of study, I got my results back from the xmas tests. I did totally shit. I don't give a dog's bollock about the fucking christmas examinations, but the mocks are in 3 weeks time and I reeeaally gotta start working if I want to get better than D's. Encouragement, O Readers? Give me faith that mayhaps three weeks is enough to revise over three years. Oh yikes. It sounds dreadful. I've got 6 tests back so far. Let me give you a lowdown on what I got:

• English: 49% -Majorly disappointed with that result
• Irish: 57% - I thought that was pretty damn okay
• Geography: 48% - Disappointed again
• Maths: 25% - Failed, plus my parents freaked
• History: 81% - Vair unexpected, but I'm proud
• French: 74% - Expected but still proud

So y'all gotta give me something. Feedback on anything exam related. Your comments have been total crapola lately. Maybe it's because I'm an annoying hoe or something. Probably that of course. Does any other country have Christmas exams? I know that they have midterms? Do they have Summers? England have GCSE which are like our certs. Sigh, I am so confused. Let's just burn down all the schools do them all and get it over with.



Oh, yes, blog. I am a total Gleek. Unless you've been living under a Mexican convict's boat for the past year without internet connection, you'll have heard about Glee. Glee is a tv show that's kinda like someone poured vodka and red bull all over High School Musical. And I am obsessed. Utterly and totally. I've watched the first 3 episodes on 3e (Irish channel) and the others on Tv Shack. At the mo', it's my savior because I've been grounded for the weekend and they won't give me my motherfucking laptop (I'm on the apple now). Seriously, I talked about that disco for ages and getting my mojo back because a hot guy wanted to meet/snog me and now GRR they decided my exam results were bad enough to stop my happiness *melodramatic sigh*.

I've been writing this post for days. Seriously, I'm just epic fail. But my tiny little life is just the same everyday. I have gossip but anyone can access my blog and it's fucking risky. Also, btw, I know my blog sucks nuts. Fo' sho'. But it's my blog and you don't have to read it. *cough cough* Nicky. Why does all my posting lead back to me batting away criticism? Guess it comes with le territory. Blogs are outlets, so fark the haters. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having followers, and getting comments and reading other people's blogs but in the end I have a blogger account for myself only. The people who care will follow and support and comment their opinions, good and bad. The people who don't care.. well I don't care. I'm sleepy.

We have to choose our senior cycle subjects before the end of the month. Parents went behind my back to try to put me in transition year, tonnes of respect for me there, eh? I'll just blow the interview. I have no clue what I want to do in the future. I suppose I wish I could be a Journalist like Veronica Guerin, a writer like George Orwell or a photographer like Ansel Adams. But they're dreams. In reality, I should do what the test told me: Keep my range between Ticket Checking and Check-out Worker. I really am clueless. I'm 14, and they're giving me a month to decide my future. Greeeat. Comment on that, I need some help.



I'd better go and put this rubbish-bin of a post to a close.
Ciao for now.
Lucy

(will sext for comments.. I JK btw *shifty eyes*)

Starbucks.

Here. A backing track for my unimportant whining >



It's still snowing. And it's annoying me a lot. I want all this horrible stuff to go away. What's the beauty in something that gives people pneumonia and causes road accidents? I was mesmerized at first, but jesus, it's just so frustrating now. Every time I stare out the window into the white abyss lying beyond, I just imagine a tall, thin, boney mistress; Twirling Earth in her hands, striking it with tough spindles of glass. Devouring us with porcelain teeth. Then, finally, she'll spit us back up for the honeymoon period of Spring, and then gradually fading out into the long, lazy days of Summer. The long lazy days of Summer filled with tears and broken hearts and new friends and cigarette smoke. And then back she comes again, swallowing us again, like some stretched out regurgitation period. My feelings are constantly changing about Winter. I'm not sure whether to run to her, arms wide open or to turn my back and ignore her, until she leaves. She's a faux ami. Perhaps I need one of those lightbox things. I've been crying way more than usual lately, and believe me, I cry a lot anyway. I need to grow up. Big girls don't cry, d'you know that?

Watched Glee. I'm totally in love with it. Honestly. I just want more, more, more. It's so sweet and I've only seen two episodes. Okay, this sounds weird, but when Finn jizzed in his pants when him and Rachel kissed, I was totally envious. Like, wow. I want someone who kisses. In my whole life, I've never once been properly kissed. It was always 'meeting'. I want someone to just kiss me; instead of playing fucking tonsil tennis. I'm such a brat, right? It's what your thinking about me. Naive little brat and when she finally finds teen romance, if she ever does or if it's even real, she'll throw it away. Of course I will. I'm a blooming idiot. But that's not my point. Back to my point. Well, if I ever found a person who makes me laugh, isn't embarrassed to be around me, and kisses like they mean it, I'd be all over them like cum on your mom. When I was a kid, I always imagined my first kiss so perfectly. Me and him, alone. Talking on a park bench or a wall. And then the conversation ends, and we just look at eachother. And then he runs his fingers along my jaw and kisses me, just a brush of our lips at first, but then leading on to real kissing. Like in Cinderella. *sigh* Stupid realism.

And Nicky is a soulless bastard who doesn't get my point. Am I crazy, seriously? I'm 14, I get it. But everyone else is around the same age and they've had some form of romance? Maybe I am just crazy and stupid. Well, farewell, off I go to listen to Death Cab For Cutie and talk to myself.

LUCY
XX
Comment?

Your lips touch every hand...

(click to enlarge, taken two days ago)


Snow and ice. It's everywhere. Today, in the cold, with the ethereal, gleaming cloak cracking beneath my feet, I thought about life and death. That tiny miniscule difference between them. One second and you're gone, words still in your mouth; your blood still warm. Snap of fingers. It's like Steve Irwin. Paramedics said that if he had left that stingray in his heart for one more second, he might have lived. I don't know if it's true (newspapers these days), but if it is, it's terrifying and brutal. Literally a moment in time can change everything. And then his brave daughter stepped in front of a crowd, told everyone of the strong man her father was. Wow. Being entirely honest, if my dad died and I was asked to speak in front of millions of people: I'd freeze. And cry and go home and crawl up with a blanket and just cry some more. I don't know what I'd do without my parents, even if they do hate me as much as they claim to. Even the thought is tear inducing. I feel so bad for orphans who never get that feeling of pure, untouched love that only a father or mother can bring. Imagine not having anyone to tuck you into bed at night when you're young, or someone to say you can do better after a break-up when you're not quite as young, or someone to chat about life when you're older. It's just constant winter for orphans. The cold front closing in 365.

On the bright side, I went out for dinner today. Miss Wong's fine chinese dining, can I getta what what? I finally had a reason to wear my sequinned gold dress. I wore it with: Black leggings, teal patent heels, and my purple cardigan. Straightened my hair, bud. I think I looked nice but the pictures I took state otherwise. Fat mess. Ahh. I need to start an exercise regime. If I weren't so bloody lazy. Laziness is like a disease. It grows and grows along with my tummy. Oh yes, and people called me a tramp today because I wear a skirt and the only pair of boots I have. A pair of tights, leggings over them, a gold (relatively short) tulip skirt, pointy-toed rubber platform boots and a hoodie and my coat. I used to think I didn't care and that I should take what I dish out, but today it really got to me. I always thought a tramp was someone who tried hard for others, but the only reason that I dress the way I do is because it makes me feel good about myself. In jeans, I look in the mirror and start bawling but in a skirt, I look nicer and my legs look longer. I don't know. I guess it's a self esteem thing. And my jeans were kinda dirty. Comment question: Am I a tramp? Be honest, crush my spirit. :P

Flyleaf, Lady Gaga and Michael Bublé albums are really good. AKA Memento Mori, The Fame Monster and Crazy Love. All the songs are stuck in my head. It's like total foot-tap mania. I highly recommend, song wise, the epic choonage of Alejandro - Lady Gaga, Chasm - Flyleaf, and Crazy Love - Micky Bubbles. It brightened my week, somehow. All the music. Ahh. Happy fun times.

I shall go, as I have nothing else to say.

LUCY
XX
Comment?
ILY

Another 10 years...

(pics of le 27th)

Okay, no post in ages because I had like 8 drafts and found them all boring etc. I waited for New Years Eve just to post about resolutions and my year being atrociously honest. That means I skip out on a couple of days where I went to McDonalds, went to the cinema and stayed at home. You miss so much, right? Anyway, down to the dirty job I suppose.

This year was a turn around. It opened my eyes to a lot of things, took my innocence, took some of my pride and ego. And there were times I thought I'd kill myself, times I felt like my heart was ripped to pieces. To sum it all up, it was an okay year. Even with all the negativity, I made it through relatively unharmed and more knowledgeable on a lot of things. I explored my sexuality more, met new people, saw Paramore live, and had so many amazing memories that make me smile each time I think them over.

Those times under the slides when it was lashing rain, the silly kissing games that my parents would be ashamed to see me take part in, the chewing gum that never left my mouth and the people who never left my side. I feel like I know exactly who I can trust right now, through error of course, and I know who will never tell secrets. It's nice having the security, y'know?

People hurt me, but I know I hurt people a lot more. I feel bad for everything I said this year and feel the need to put it all behind and dissolve grudges. It's never good to be angry for stupid reasons, and that's what I was most of the year. Most of the decade even. 2010 is going to be amazing, I can just feel it. After the Junior Cert, I'll properly get working. For my future.



Anyway, on to resolutions:

1. Stop word vomiting all the time
2. Get my sexual mojo back
3. Exercise more for general health
4. Drink water for my skin
5. Learn 'Smells like Teen Spirit' on guitar
6. Make amazing Alice costume for Burton's Premiere/Nom Con
7. Ignore people who try to start fights
8. Make a lot more friends
   

I get it, they're stupid, but we'll see if I change some etc.
It's 2am, 01/01/10
Lucy Bennett, signing off on a brand new decade.

LUCY
COMMENT
XX

Jolly Good Time, Eh?

(click to enlarge, as always, dudes)


Merry Christmas to you all.
Short post to show you some new pictures and make my present list:

• Nikon D40 - SLR Camera <3
• Navy and Cream Cardigan from New Look
• Dark Blonde Extensions from Sister/Claires
• Hairdryer
• Blonde Shampoo
• Nail Polish
• Bath bubble thingies
• Make Up Brushes
• T-Shirt w/ Girl on It
• Painting of French Couture Thingiemabobs
• €100 euro
• Big 'Mastering Digital Photography' Book

Good year. Am totally delighted but knackered and stuffed. Aunt Flo came to visit. Fuck you, Mother Nature. Will write proper loaaaads tomorrow.

LUCY
XXX
Comment with what Santy got you. (:

Sounded like an alarm of impending doom...

Light and dark. The beauty of each, in solitary and contrast. The pure white that floods every corner, the one you only notice when you're alone and concentrating on sweet nothings and nuggets of drama. The luscious, melting darkness that devours cities, soaks footpaths and swallows you whole, but is only terrifying when one is, again, alone. I think it's the same with people. When you're alone, you see the twisting, convulsing black that sweeps through their veins or the flowing silver rivers that rush and turn in their brain. People aren't perfect, but lately, I've seen that everybody tends towards a different side. Like swaying towards darkness or light. Minds just work differently. Some people thrive on being cruel, feeling dirty, being harsh. Others do those things, but feel terrible. I'm not necessarily saying that any of it's bad, but these angelic, creamy people often get walked all over, and the dark, sick people get hurt by their own actions and are left empty. It's about comfort though. If you're happy in the present with what you are, so be it. It's you and there'll always be someone who agrees, even if they pretend they don't. Unleash your demon or delight.



Yesterday changed the Christmas. There was this one thing that shook me up a bit and it felt like I'd been kicked really hard in the stomach, and even now when I've woken up, the feeling's not gone. For a while, I honestly felt like dying. Like taking my own life. Perhaps I was just incredibly hormonal and fuelled by the 'one thing' but I took it as an option. It scared me, because I felt this exact way last Christmas, and the one before. This Christmas was supposed to be perfect. Even if I haven't achieved my inner goal of having a boyfriend, I brushed it aside. I was going to ignore everything that could make me upset. Too late now. This is going to be on my mind the whole holidays, I can feel it. Maybe it'll stop me from eating and my ass will stop expanding like a balloon at a helium convention. And then there was another misunderstanding which was quite funny to me, because me, Ash and Jem left these... interesting tags on some girl's facebook pictures thinking you couldn't see who wrote tags. Blonde moment, you can. And then the girl and her friend start calling us sad. It brightened my morning reading those comments, really, because she has done so many sad things and made me and close friends miserable loads of times.


(Tessa's new video to get you in festive spirit. Meekakitty <3)

I am probably being forced to mass tomorrow morning. Which is the suxxor. I shall stage a protest and just lie in bed after I've opened all of mes cadeaux. I don't believe in God or Jesus for the time being so why should I be forced into celebration of a sham? Stupidity. Grandparents coming today. Oh sweet joy. I love Granny Kate, she is just soo nice. But Granny Whatsherface is just a pain in the ass. Yes, yes, I'm horrible, she's my granny. But she's one of those people that you know and hate because they're stuck up and cruel and way too nosy and arrogant and pass remarkable. Just because you're related to someone doesn't mean you have to put up with all their shit. Grandad John is lovely though, he likes gardening and BBC. How he could marry such a witch, I don't know. I will just put all my attention on the nice grandparents. Ohmigoddd, this last paragraph made me sound like such a cow. I'm sorry to anyone I've offended etc. Not a good month for blogs, I must say. Not a good month for Lucy's self esteem. Touché, l'Esteem Self, touché. >.>

I shall go now.
Follow me on Twitter if you don't already:
Lucy/paintburst
COMMENTTTTT.
Lucy
xxx

Birds in my ear, and a devil on my shoulder...

I haven't blogged in way too long. Unbelievably even. I've even lost a follower. COME BACK! I have been so busy/stressed/paranoid lately though with tests and friends and town and reading and Super Mario Bros studying. Today though, the tests are over and no school till the 7th of January 2010. I can't believe it's almost a new year already. First Christmas, yeah, whatever. But then it's my new start. Big woo. This time last year I was either in surgery or totally unconscious in I.C.U (and I just wanna dance with you). It's a leap. I feel like there's still a part of me in that operation, even though it's been a full year. Anytime I think about it, I burst into tears uncontrollably and it takes me a cup of tea and 8 choccy biscuits to calm down. I guess I should be glad to put it behind me and go on living like it never happened, and pretend I can't see the hideous scar. Dramatic Sigh. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. I feel so festive singing along to Wham's 'Last Christmas' not Cascada's shitty cover and drinking hot chocolate and wearing... scarves and staring at twinkly lights and falling over wires because I was too busy staring at the twinkly lights.



I can't wait for my camera. AHHHHH. It's like the Christmas Eve excitement factor but I have it 2 days early. Nobody will stay in and watch Love Actually tomorrow. Will brave cold winds with proudly-worn Panda hat and warm jeans and coat and shit. Am listening to Nickasaur. Rocketships and Radios is total utter crap but it's always in my head. If a guy said those things about me, I swear I would squee for hours and give him my proverbial virginity. Still searching for Prince Charming. I should probably be more proactive and flirty etc but I cannot be arsed, tbqf. The bloody effort. I have lost my mojo. It's goneee. Come back mojo. I haven't gone out with someone since bloody September. I haven't even fancied anyone since then. Come along on thou's noble steed and I shall ride along with you/on you. Eugh, whore comment. Dear prostitute-brain, please cleanse yourself, signed Mr. Conscience. Anyone normal reading this blog would think I'm a crack addict. Listening to All American Rejects. Some of their songs are depressing. I might as well go hang myself. BTW, readers, that was a tasteless satirical joke on myself. Which made no sense.

Does everyone get jealous? Feel the burning at the back of their throat, the furrowing of their brow, the strong need to insult this 'other person' 24/7 or to shoot them down. Being blind to things you do that are similiar and insulting insulting insulting. I feel so evil when I'm jealous, and homocidal. Like if I had a rifle, I'd perform another Columbine Massacre. Stabby rip stab stab. Even as I write, I have this kind of ripping-tummy thing going on, like I'm nauseous and pregnant with knives or something. My mind's all twisted. I can hear the festive fumblings from downstairs. Someone pushing the tree, someone making coffee, someone placing presents. And I'm up here alone, bathing with the green monster. I'm jealous of EVERYONE lately. I fail, I fail and this blog was crapola bars. I may as well go.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

http://moshime.com/justsayyes

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