2 days . . .

So in the last two days I have travelled over 50 miles to various destinations, the last one being only a couple of metres away. Ha! Let's go through this in chronilogical order, shall we?

Righty, first off. . . our day out in B'ton. . . Charming day, charming people. Whatever, you know what I'm saying (hopefully). Anyway we had a smashing time wondering through the lanes, bar the argument and the strop thrown by Beth at the beginning. "No! I'm not used to this!!!" . . Me and Jenna sighing and muttering to each other, "I don't care!!" . . . . . . But in the end we followed Beth so that we could pass by the bead shop . . At this point she gets hurrendously excited and scurries around picking out all sorts of garishly coloured beads while I moan, Ed and Alex are amazed by the whole situation and Jenna retires to a seat outside. Rightly so, I think, as I traipse around combing my fingers through boxes upon boxes of beads . . . God, that's an awful word. I must stop saying it. Moving on, happier times were about to begin. We mad eour way up to Churchill Square where Alex decides he wants a pair of shoes so he and Ed saunter into Sole Trader and me, Jenna and Beth scurry into Dorothy Perkins in our excited manner. Jenna and I stop to look at the pumps, she picks out these lovely blue ones but states that she should probably check out other shops before she decides for definite. Beth tries on sunglasses of every size and colour until we decide to leave the shop and join to boys on their quest for a good pair of shoes. So, we are all standing, sitting, leaning against a shelf in the shop while Alex hastily tries on this white pair of shoes (or trainers?) and decides that yes, they are a good choice. After this episode we walk around Churhcill Square aimlessly, well, looking in shops with no intent to buy anything (well, I didnt anyway, I think Jenna had other ideas), we lost the boys and found them later - at this point Beth demands that Ed gives her his mobile number incase this not-so-worrying event happens in the future. . . . They exchange numbers and we carry on with our day. This may have been after lunch or before, not sure. But now I shall move onto our 1 and a half hour sit in at Pablo's (as in Picasso, this I worked out at a glance of the restaurants sign at the door, the others finally worked this out an hour later after I prompted them). I had a gorgeous pasta dish that consisted of salmon and artichoke hearts in a tomato and white wine sauce. It was delicous. I, of course, finished last. It happens at every meal I ever have, always the last one to finish eating. But that's not important. . . We had a jolly chat and then the gang decides (ooooh, sorry for the sudden stop in the sentence, but I have just realised that we had lunch before we ventured up to Churchill Square, so this is like in reverse order - soz guys!!) to New Look and Primark, well me and Jenna do and the others traipse into Starbucks to order a coffee or whatever floats their boat. Me and Jenna skipped into Primark and made a sharp movement towards the Shoes and Acessories department downstairs in the basement and are suddenly hit by a wave of people coming UP the stairs and UP only. A man who appears to work there is guarding the staircase, he looks like an immature 23 year old with way to many spots and honey coloured hair which he obviously dyes, he seems to think he is important - I just think he looks ridiculous. Moing on, I ask him politely why the hell people are not allowed downstairs and he says that a girl has just collapsed and they don't want anyone down there. . . Jenna mutters sharply as we turn to leave the shop, "Well that's not very good publicity for the shop is it?!". We join the others in Starbucks where they have chosen to sit upstairs where all the "scene" kids with their big head phones and scrawney, tackily dyed hair hang out. It's bloody hot up there. So there are the guys, lying around in their armchairs with their half drunken cups of coffee and practically half naked, while me and jenna are sweating it out in our bulky coats and jeans . . . So fairly soon we decide that maybe the coat isn't such a good idea and take them off and carry them. The others have decided to go to the beach, which, in the minutes prior to the meeting in Starbucks, me and Jenna had decided as well. So we all saunter down to a half packed beach. The way a beach should be, I say. It was incredibly windy, as is evident in the pictures on my bebo, but the sun shone through the sky and made the air warm enough. We threw stones into the sea and then walked to the pier. On the pier we shared a tray of chips and as we wandered up and down the pier Ed offers to buy us all icecreams, at this point I either feel incredibly jealous because he has so much bloody money or I feel guilty for not paying for my own, still haven't decided yet. So then we hop and skip off the pier and onto the end of a groyne that is at the edge of the shoreline . . . There we chat, we laugh (me laughing mostly) and we scream, etc etc. I actually can't be bothered to explain the rest because it's pretty obvious. . . Or - even better - you could make up your own ending! Genius idea!!

Moving onto SUNDAY, the day of the partays, yar. First off, Jean's 70th, she has to be the most lively 70 year old I have ever met. She hops and dances everywhere . . . She's like the granny I never had. Amazing. Anyway, me and Harriet dont know anyone so we just stick together and endure having to say 'I'm the daughter of Sian/Carey, you know, Jean is My granny's sister, JUNE . . . ' etc etc - or something like that. Does my granny even have a sister? So, after this Harriet tries to shoot a photo from her camera phone IN MY FACE, God, awful. So that was the fun of that party...

Gregory's 21st next. Me, Dad, Will, Carey and Harriet travel there in Careys bus of a people carrier (she just bought a nursing home so she needs it) and we are early so we pop into the pub (The Maypole in High Hirstwood) and enjoy "a swift 'alf, please" . . . A few laughs later we all decide that we are suitably late (just in time for it to be fashionably late, ya know the thing) and hop back into Careys bus. We're pulling out and bump in Mums car who also has Jonothan smirking in the passenger seat . . . They have just come from Granny's house. So as we're laughing and Mum looks astonished we carry on up to Huckleberry, the new house of Nicky and Mike. We ring the door bell but no one answers, so me, Harriet and Will sneak in the front garden and peak through the french windows and low and behold! There stands Mike by the mantle piece laughing along to some joke. Ben sits (slumps) in an armchair and Lara looks joyous but also like she really doesn't want to be there but has nowhere else to go really. Anyway we are let in and are greeted. Harriet is confused by the presence of Ben (Greg's friend) but talks anyway. Later on Ming (the cat) becomes the centre of converstaion and Harriet goes into a little anecdote about how she and David used to call her HUming because she looked human. At this point everyone turns to Harriet with a kind of weirded/ freaked out expression on their faces. Ben pipes up - saying, "Is she blonde? No, seriously, it is dyed isn't it?!!" Harriet screeches at this apparent insult as Ben continues to explain how Greg's family is even weirder than his. So the party goes well etc, lovely salmon and cucumber sandwiches I have to say. And Greg tries to get me to work at Okenden Manor, little does he know that I'm not actually 16 for another 3 months. I don't want to be 16 either, I don't want to pay adult price on the trains. That's the only reason, otherwise BRING IT ON!!

Wow, that was long. Like you actually read that. I mean you have a life. Oh, if you're reading this right now then I have clearly insulted you. Like I care. Love and all that crap.