Brief Notation

Hmmm. In order to make it through the next week, I'm going to have to develop two alter-egos. One who knows what I'm supposed to be doing in the maths coursework, for I am entirely clueless, and one who is utterly shameless, and loves to dance around in a grass skirt and tight top for 'the fun of it'. Oh yes, it's almost dance show week...

Even the kids I babysit for are going to watch it. And Richard, Kieran, Ben, and a handful of other mocking boys from my form. Oh yay.

But, in much happier news, I've made it into sixth form, as have my fabulous friends. Although, really, I was pretty sure we wouldn't have much of a problem in that department. I mean, who wouldn't want us? We're wonderful. Ahem.

. . .

My i-pod broke. First, it wouldn't turn off, and then, when we managed to do that, it wouldn't turn on again. Luckily, the good people at the shop took one look at it, nodded solemnly and handed over an identical black nano, all free of charge. So now I have a shiny new one, with no scratches. Very good. Technology is not a dear friend of mine; in fact, it hates me.

. . .

I must say, our cricket prospects in India aren't looking too good. Our habit of picking up twinges, fevers and general injuries is very English indeed; surely, we get all the bad luck? Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'll be dancing my little cotton socks off for the duration of the First Test, so win, lose or draw, what does it matter? As long as we keep the Ashes, that is.