I've really got to stop using profanity in my journals. [I’m such an arse.]

Yes, my mother won’t let me go to the Fleetwood Mac concert. Fleetwood Mac, whom I have loved my WHOLE LIFE, because I was raised on their music. It’s like… I’ve wanted to see them for ever. Same with Bon Jovi, and Def Leppard. I could not go to either. But I love Fleetwood Mac much much more than them.

The reason she won’t let me go? It’s an adult thing because there’s whole group of people “her” age and I’d just be the one kid. I don’t care about them going, because I’m there for the music, not the people.

I REALLY want to go.

This is where I make an arse of myself. I’m such an embarrassment.

This afternoon, I was in Whitcoulls (A stationery shop) to get some new books and Taschi, Arran, Michael and Stephi-Jo were there.

Taschi and Stephi-Jo decided to go off and get Arran’s birthday present…but I don’t know why, because it’s in December. Anyway, I walked with Michael and Arran up the escalator, and our conversation went something like this:

Me to Arran: “We’re cool, right?”
Arran to me: “Yeah, we’re cool.” This is me calling myself a dork right about now.
Michael to me: “We’re cool right?” Uh oh.
Me to Michael: “Yeah, we’re so cool, you deserve a handshake.” Fuck. FUCK.
Arran to Michael: “We’re cool, right?”
Michael to Arran: “Yeah.”
Me: “Shut up.”

I hate making a fool of myself. But at least the air is clear.

Never fails to make things extremely awkward,
inspire (Previously known as realize

I’ll get over it. I’m invincible, remember?