Warning: contains badly drawn Paint art, which has been shrunk when added to this blog. View at own risk.
Word on the street is, RC is waiting to race you in Andy's garage...
Also, my hair is slowly getting to Boob Level:
Sadly, showing you meant showing this photo. Ick.
Hopefully Ms Awesome’s gonna be happy my t-shirt is band merch this time…
Anna
xx
Are too big
For my face.
_
It’s not like I wear them anyway, I’m wearing glasses most of the time when I go out anyway. 
My fringe is growing though. 
Anna
xx
I’ve been going through old sheets and notes from media with cleaning my room today, and found some on Women in Science Fiction, and found this gem at the top:
“The thought of a US spacewoman makes me sick to my stomach. I’d prefer to send a monkey into space than a bunch of women.’ – Chris Kraft, Director NASA 1960
Lovely. What a knob.
I kind of remember that lesson, and there was some discussion about women apparently actually being more suited to travelling in space. I have no idea how, though.
Anna
xx
So today it got to about 5pm, and I sort of realised I hadn’t really done anything. At all. And my mum, being the psychic woman she is, heard this faint realisation and came up to tell me we’re doing Student Finance. So then I’m told to find my National Insurance card, and after about 2 minutes of me searching through drawers at random for it she then, being the psychic woman she is, turns up in my room again announcing it was in *that* drawer all along, finds it and then we’re on the downstairs computer, typing in my birthdate and living arrangements and random things like “has someone you live with worked in another country within the past 5 years” while flicking through a booklet full of photos of people in their mid-20s looking unbelieveably happy to be standing in an odd pose and holding up a sign of advice. Probably because they don’t have to take it.
Then we get halfway through and it asks about my passport, and we realise that I haven’t sorted that either. My passport now is out of date thanks to puberty and I need to get a new one, not just to scrape any money we can out of the government to pay for my really expensive course on how to over-analyse films, but because I also plan to go to Paris soon and I will sort that out too, I promise, I just had to wait until now ’cause my boyfriend wasn’t 18 yet. (Incidentally, my out-of-date round-faced passport still counted as ID when we went to the pub on his 18th. Yay!)
So we scrap Student Finance and get to work on my first adult passport. This online form is also a nightmare, mainly because it asks you, in about 25 different ways: “Are you from the UK?”
Do you reside in the UK? Are you residing in the UK now? Do you reside in England/Scotland/Wales/Northern Island/the tiny islands no one remembers? What nationality are you? Where were you born? Were you born in the UK? What town/city were you born in?
I especially like that last one. Like it’s trying to catch you out. “Yes, I was born in the UK. Yes, definately the UK. Born in Madri- Shit, you got me.”
And there was this other one. It asked me what country I was from (again), and there were the following options:
UK
England
Scotland
Wales
If there’s anyone reading who doesn’t understand why this is an awkward question, it’s a bit like this:
Where are you from?
USA
Texas
California
New York
You’re in more than one. But you can only pick one. So now I wasn’t sure – if I picked “England”, do I look like a weird snobby person who doesn’t want to associate themselves with those dreadful Scots or Welsh people? Or, if I picked “UK”, does that mean that I lived in none of the other places, and just sort of floated directionlessly around the island in a dinghy?
I think I went with “UK”, deciding that I would rather be weird dinghy girl than disown Matt Tuck/David Tennant*/one half of Meteor Games.
Which reminds me, I have some Pirate-questing to be a-doing.
Anna
xx
* I don’t even watch Doctor Who, but awww, lookathim. ^^
Purple-redness
I was on my laptop when my mum took this, and I have no idea why I’m pressing my lips together like that. Maybe too much ninja cake making…
So, was it a good idea or a bad one? I tend to panic afterwards when I get home, worried that my pale long face teamed with dark dark hair has made me look like something out of the Adams Family. But dorkier.
Only, I have freckles. So I worry I look like someone who has naturally red and desperately trying to look gothy and cool and kinda failing.
After a while, however, I start to like it. Then I feel sad when I wash my hair a couple of days later and all the water in the shower goes pinky purple.
I’m sure it was worth all the money. 
Anna
xx
I’m not normally a fan of things like Britain’s Got Talent.
But.
This is so weird but amusing.
Anna
xx
Six days ago, I turned eighteen. That does sound like something in my life I could actually blog about, but sadly it seems I was born in what is now known to a Year 13 student as
COURSEWORK PANIC WEEK!!
And therefore, had little time to blog, plus when I wasn’t working I figured I’d rather watch films.
I’m back to blogging now however, and it might be a little more interesting now because I have a new (and beautifully simple) video recorder. It’s been made incredibly simple, with the main functions being “on” “record” and “play/pause” and with a usb stick that pops out the top to immediately transfer videos (and charge the battery). It even has a little bit of editing software when you plug it in.
Both the recorder (and the software, probably) is quite basic, but I just love having something where you just record and that’s it.
Was going to post a video, but having trouble making it viewable on here and not for the world to see on youtube. :S
Anna
x
