Meeeeee

The lies and deceit will also go in here - partially mine, mainly everyone else's. What the hell, everything and everyone will get a mention at some time in its existence!

A toast!!!

Here's to all the crap in life, and to all the greats!

Oh, and go easy on me - it's my first time, and I don't take orders well...

So, yes. I am 19, born in the year of the dog, which makes me loyal, trustworthy, and just plain brilliant. I think it means that I'd do anything for anyone and I smell and play fetch, too, but hey, who knows?

I am also an Aries, and I am very proud of that. You see, I was never into my zodiacal sign until one field-trip to Stansted Mountfichet Castle, somewhere in Essex, my own personal home county. A resident ram booted my teacher, Mrs Hume, straight past the picnic benches and into a small valley. Damn, you should have seen the fallows run! Heh heh heh, don't blame them! She made me feel like that all the time. Unfortunately, she stopped herself rolling. The continuation would have been amusing - there had been heavy rain the days before, and there was practically a lake at the bottom. Oh, it's sooo true, school days are the best days of your life!

I'm a proud writer, a journalism student, and a part-time poet. I don't make a habit of showing people what I write, but there are exceptions to the rule. Having nearly finished my first book, I've got ideas for follow-ups - I'm hoping that Rachael and I with form some kind of co-writing alliance, because whatever we come up with together would be fantastically weird, wonderful and oh, so original!

I believe I said that I'm a journalism student. A slight slip of the tongue. If we are defining a student to be someone who goes to lectures, then, no, I am just a wannabe. I feel out of place in that group of misfits. They have no respect for anyone, and at times, I feel like slapping them all into reality. Failing that, I grin and bear it.

Amazingly enough, there is actually someone who doesn't turn up as much as me, and I do, unlike the other people in my group, turn up to the computer lectures. But I don't yet have the motivation to pass, even though the day of reckoning is very close.

Oh, and I have a brain - I forgot to mention that. I have all my GCSEs - B-graded, I might add (I didn't revise, I was impressed!) - and I have all my A-levels. Well, the two I was actually examined in. I originally took Sociology, English Literature and French-Canadian language(Also got fed up of European/standard frog)/French Literature. I finished up doing Photography and English Language and Literature, with a shot of Media, and three years of Sociology. Damn, I could out write Anthony Giddens any day!

There's a fantastic thing about being a trainee journalist - with the NCTJ, you get oodles and noodles of respect. I have almost had an interview with Bruce Forsyth, but got a signed photograph instead, got a polite rejection from Man Utd - "Fax Diane thingimajig" - and have almost had interviews with Linford Christie and John Barnes. I say nearly because you never get a response when your contact is a gold-card holding hairdresser. And just remember that when I say 'gold-card holding', what I actually mean is that his card is 9k gold. Literally. I'm trying to figure out how much I can sell his businesscard for. I'm hoping more than a tenner!

My general ambition is to be a writer, I don't care how I do it, be it reporting or books, and since my grandad died, I have lost motivation for anything. But now I have a more involved ambition.

My grandad was Irish-blooded, and he never managed to find out where his family hailed from originally - apparently they were rich, but who knows? Anyway, I have decided to take this up and find out all the gorey details - I know there's an Alison involved, an Annie, Australia, Liverpool and a Francis Joseph, but as yet that's all I know. With any luck, when I eventually get down to it, I'll have my trusty amis by my side.

I hope Paul's gonna decide to be in on it. I can't think of anyone I would rather try drinking under the table! I need Felix there to provide the sanity, and I need Reso there to just be Reso! Oh, hell, everyone can come along! Unless you're my Moriarties, in which case I shall throw you from the plane/boat on the way over and hope you die a horrible, slow and painful death in the middle of the Irish Sea!!!


				*nogardesrever* *Meeeeee*



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								You'll be able to get to know everyone probably better than I do here, but what the hell - I might start to know them now!



		Amis, Moriarties, and significant others! Barbara: This would be my mum - Mrs Mum to all you rabble. How do I describe my mother? Well, she's absolutely great! You have to be to continue working in a job that you despise with all your heart and soul! Can be a bit loud at times (She thinks I get my stubbornness from my dad...), and she likes Westlife! But never, no matter how much she moans, how much she cries, NEVER let her drink brandy! John/Hans/Johann: My dad. Works damn hard for a living, and I guess that I never really appreciate all the things that my parents do for me. I am a bad, bad person... He's also great, though sometimes I could jump in front of him, screaming "Pay attention to me!!!" he just won't do it. It's not because he's as deaf as a post, he isn't. It's because he is a typical man who's mind only has one track, and the train still hasn't left the station! Love him loads, anyway! Alice: I am partially named after her - middle name being Alison. She's, from what I hear, rather a bit of a Hyacinth Bucket: "Mind the car!" "What car?" "The car on the other side of the loch." "Oh. That car." Yeah, she's my nan, and I love her loads! Jimbo: My late grandfather, Grandad was virtually the greatest man in my life, my nan's, my mum's and Jimmy Scumbag, who was named after him. He and nan helped my parents out of a variety of scicky situations, and I can never thank him enough for everything that he did for me. It was him that made me respect my parents, and him who made me respect my country. It is also him that has inspired me to have a goal in life - my own, personal Hajj. Jimmy Scumbag: Meiner kleiner bruder, he's a dancer, and he's absolutely fantastic at it. I'm proud of him. He's off to Germany tomorrow, I think, to dance in a competition. He's gonna win - heck, he's the Grandison Clark All-England winner, after all! FRIENDS: Reso/Trouble: Me and my shadow! Sarah - the person who's more like me than even me, I think, and I love her to death. I'd shag her, but I prefer men (DAMN my sexuality!) to women. She's the person I'd least mind going abroad with cos we never have any really serious arguments. Rachael: I met her in a Hanson chat room somewhere on Yahoo. We're getting married soon, and honeymooning in the shed. She's a good laugh, and protective of her lush Hanson, and why not indeed? Don't pick a fight with her, whatever you do! Issy: We've known each other since I was 8. Which, I believe, would be 11 years, but I wouldn't trust my mathment, really. She's a strong-willed bitch, and for this reason, I'm glad that she's on my side, as opposed to the side of someone like Bitchfacetrogwoman. Felix: Felix is a lovely young fellow I met online two years ago. He is the epitomy of fantastic, but I guess I'll never tell him this. He's the man I'd most like to spend time with, mainly because we could spend hours on the phone talking about generally nothing, but we can get a damn good conversation out of it. He's one of the greatest men a girl could know! Thanks for being you, honey. If I've never told you you're nearly the man in my life, now's the time to say it! Paul Murphy: Saving the best for last, here! Not best friend, but... Hell, everyone who's ever loved can tell ya! He's a rather sexy Canadian. I'm still trying to figure out when he got my e-mail address from (Coincidentally, I think it might have had something to do with a chat show and Ronnie Biggs) but I'm glad I responded - he's just like my ex, Paul McCarthy. He's a guy I've never had a serious conversation with, but then, he's got a way about him that makes me think "Yeah!" He's a sweetheart, and I love him to pieces. (Not as much as you guys, though, Reso and Felix!) MORIARTIES: (This'll be short!) Leslie: I don't respect him enough to check the spelling, but I'll say this - with family like him, no wonder I don't make friends easily. I have one word for him - grrrrr! Okay, done now!						The lies and deceit will also go in here - partially mine, mainly everyone else's. What the hell, everything and everyone will get a mention at some time in its existence! I guess I'll also spill the beans on what's going on, what's not, and what should be. In theory, this page is for all the great things, and for all the "F**K ME, THIS COULD BE A LOT BETTER" things, but in reality, it's going to be just like me: Garbled!!!! A toast!!! Here's to all the crap in life, and to all the greats! Oh, and go easy on me - it's my first time, and I don't take orders well... So, yes. I am 19, born in the year of the dog, which makes me loyal, trustworthy, and just plain brilliant. I think it means that I'd do anything for anyone and I smell and play fetch, too, but hey, who knows? I am also an Aries, and I am very proud of that. You see, I was never into my zodiacal sign until one field-trip to Stansted Mountfichet Castle, somewhere in Essex, my own personal home county. A resident ram booted my teacher, Mrs Hume, straight past the picnic benches and into a small valley. Damn, you should have seen the fallows run! Heh heh heh, don't blame them! She made me feel like that all the time. Unfortunately, she stopped herself rolling. The continuation would have been amusing - there had been heavy rain the days before, and there was practically a lake at the bottom. Oh, it's sooo true, school days are the best days of your life! I'm a proud writer, a journalism student, and a part-time poet. I don't make a habit of showing people what I write, but there are exceptions to the rule. Having nearly finished my first book, I've got ideas for follow-ups - I'm hoping that Rachael and I with form some kind of co-writing alliance, because whatever we come up with together would be fantastically weird, wonderful and oh, so original! I believe I said that I'm a journalism student. A slight slip of the tongue. If we are defining a student to be someone who goes to lectures, then, no, I am just a wannabe. I feel out of place in that group of misfits. They have no respect for anyone, and at times, I feel like slapping them all into reality. Failing that, I grin and bear it. Amazingly enough, there is actually someone who doesn't turn up as much as me, and I do, unlike the other people in my group, turn up to the computer lectures. But I don't yet have the motivation to pass, even though the day of reckoning is very close. Oh, and I have a brain - I forgot to mention that. I have all my GCSEs - B-graded, I might add (I didn't revise, I was impressed!) - and I have all my A-levels. Well, the two I was actually examined in. I originally took Sociology, English Literature and French-Canadian language(Also got fed up of European/standard frog)/French Literature. I finished up doing Photography and English Language and Literature, with a shot of Media, and three years of Sociology. Damn, I could out write Anthony Giddens any day! There's a fantastic thing about being a trainee journalist - with the NCTJ, you get oodles and noodles of respect. I have almost had an interview with Bruce Forsyth, but got a signed photograph instead, got a polite rejection from Man Utd - "Fax Diane thingimajig" - and have almost had interviews with Linford Christie and John Barnes. I say nearly because you never get a response when your contact is a gold-card holding hairdresser. And just remember that when I say 'gold-card holding', what I actually mean is that his card is 9k gold. Literally. I'm trying to figure out how much I can sell his businesscard for. I'm hoping more than a tenner! My general ambition is to be a writer, I don't care how I do it, be it reporting or books, and since my grandad died, I have lost motivation for anything. But now I have a more involved ambition. My grandad was Irish-blooded, and he never managed to find out where his family hailed from originally - apparently they were rich, but who knows? Anyway, I have decided to take this up and find out all the gorey details - I know there's an Alison involved, an Annie, Australia, Liverpool and a Francis Joseph, but as yet that's all I know. With any luck, when I eventually get down to it, I'll have my trusty amis by my side. I hope Paul's gonna decide to be in on it. I can't think of anyone I would rather try drinking under the table! I need Felix there to provide the sanity, and I need Reso there to just be Reso! Oh, hell, everyone can come along! Unless you're my Moriarties, in which case I shall throw you from the plane/boat on the way over and hope you die a horrible, slow and painful death in the middle of the Irish Sea!!!