06 July 2001 - Variations on the theme of water -- 06:46 p.m.
Today at work I drank water, worked while thinking 'I need more water' and went to get water whenever I could be bothered.
At lunch I ate near some water (the fishpond in Castle Park).
Reason #2 for loving the watercooler at work (#1 is that it has water in) is that on the helpline thing it says 'We'll chat about anything, but our strength is water coolers, definitely. Lolol.

06 July 2001 - I would just like to announce my retirement. -- 06:44 p.m.
Yes, I have retired. Hoorah.

05 July 2001 - I am the queen of fanmail -- 07:54 p.m.
According to my computer: "full buck moon" today. Lisa says Miss Davison asked her how I was. :::hides under the table::: :::gets back up, it's too hard to type from there:::
And a quote from JB: "Things always have a way of working themselves out, almost as if life is being written by some eternal optimist always in search of a happy ending."
Lolol.

05 July 2001 - Boredom -- 02:06 p.m.
And now I'm filing the drawings and approvals instead of the files... equally boring.
Just a quick note: On Saturday we're going caravanning, so lack of entries for a while.

04 July 2001 - melting... -- 07:37 p.m.
Work is boring... but at least I am rich.
I listened to CDs and filed all day... I now have the Rimmer song on a permanent loop inside my head and I keep laughing at inopportune moments... weird. Well, nevermind.

03 July 01 - Work yourself out of a job, why don't you? -- 01:14 p.m.
Hot... but not so much as yesterday. The massiveness of dad's screen means all the writing is tiny, so I have to squint, how incredibly gorgeous I must look. I think Work Exp Girl is talking to herself, how odd.
Evil Penelope of Doom, is still in my head. It's such a funny concept.
I've already had my lunch break. I've finished all the filing, dad can't think of anything to give me to do, and I think that Linda is having lunch with the bank manager, or something. When she gets back, hopefully she will a) pay me and b) find me something to do. I am soooo bored. And asleep.
Oh, and I burned a new cd. 36 tracks, 71 minutes (lots of them are just things like Vic Reeves shouting 'I wrote this song for you outside a mortuary in Bolton'. Or maybe it is Bob Mortimer. It's quite hard to tell with the horrible quality of the file. And plus, two of the tracks stop in the middle of words, which isn't even slightly annoying (grrr). Well, I'm bored. Tata.

-- 01:14 p.m.
Hot... but not so much as yesterday. The massiveness of dad's screen means all the writing is tiny, so I have to squint, how incredibly gorgeous I must look. I think Work Exp Girl is talking to herself, how odd.
Evil Penelope of Doom, is still in my head. It's such a funny concept.
I've already had my lunch break. I've finished all the filing, dad can't think of anything to give me to do, and I think that Linda is having lunch with the bank manager, or something. When she gets back, hopefully she will a) pay me and b) find me something to do. I am soooo bored. And asleep.
Oh, and I burned a new cd. 36 tracks, 71 minutes (lots of them are just things like Vic Reeves shouting 'I wrote this song for you outside a mortuary in Bolton'. Or maybe it is Bob Mortimer. It's quite hard to tell with the horrible quality of the file. And plus, two of the tracks stop in the middle of words, which isn't even slightly annoying (grrr). Well, I'm bored. Tata.

02 July 2001 - afterthought -- 07:07 p.m.
I would rather be too cold than too hot. Hot weather makes my brain stop. Also, I would rather be too fat than too thin, because I've always found thin people's necks really creepy. A weird phobia, no?
I ate my lunch on the river (not literally, but you know what I mean) today. It was gorgeous. Usually with all the trees around I'd have just been sneezing, but the spray stuff has stopped all that, and it was brilliant. Swans, ducks and trees, and of course a river. What more perfection could you want? (world peace, etc...)

02 July 2001 - Hot and melting -- 06:58 p.m.
I'm melting.... no, really. Well, Work Experience Girl is called Rochelle D'Cruz. How much does that sound like a name someone's made up because it sounds cool? Like, her real name is Penelope but she doesn't think it sounds evil enough? I don't know. I haven't spoken to her, since I've spent almost all day in the storeroom. Hot. There's no airconditioning there, and no clock! How can you have a room with no clock? It's ridiculous.
Oh, and The Mysterious Parcels arrived. You'll never guess who they were from, so I'll tell you. The European Commision. I'm fairly worried... For example, the leaflet on the top of the huge pile of stuff that necessitated (?sp) two parcels is called 'How does the European Union help to protect our environment?'. Just more examples of the randomness of my life.

01 July 2001 - Happy new month -- 08:41 p.m.
A new month, 50 new internet hours to play with. Last month we used 55... oops. Today inthe newspaper it has 8 photos of weddings on an article called 'Bride and Groom'. One of them is of a handfasting. How lovely that pagans are receiving recognition... Sorry, I'm in a weird mood.
Today I sat around doing nothing... a homeworkless and revisionless weekend, what a wonderful thing that is.
Damn, I've forgotten what I was going to say.

30 June 2001 - the maypole is a phallic symbol -- 03:11 p.m.
Ha, I found the episode of WLiiA that I taped from Monday night. So funny. "Thank god you're here.... Captain Breakdance!" ha. And plus, Brad was on it, added bonus.
Well anyways, the school fete. I went with Lisa, who decided to wear scary clothes in order to stop the teachers from talking to her ('haven't you grown?' etc.). It didn't work, since Mrs Gray and Mrs Kent both talked to us. Ah well. Mum and dad are still there, helping out, Lisa is swimming, and Matthew is probably swimming. And I am at home, because I ran out of things to do. I bought 3 books, because mum and dad were looking at them and decided I would like them, and bought them for me. How generous of them. And I played tincan alley because dad was in charge of it - I got 4, Lisa got 4 as well I think.
They had one of those organs which have bits of paper with holes in to make them play, I never remember the name. It had a glockenspiel and drums and everything, and those dancing flowers. They are so cool, I want one. Oh, and the maypole dancing was fun. The kids did okay, because they're forced to practice it continually, and then grownups had a go and got it completely tangled up. When I was a primary-schooler I did country dancing, and I had to do the boys part because there weren't enough boys. So, to prove I was a boy, I wore a blue skirt. Bizarre. ALso, they did the Wizard of Oz dancing. But they were dressed as bats, and I don't remember bats in the wizard of oz. Or Toploader or Blade Runner, which is what they were dancing to.
Ah well.

29 June 2001 - 1 week of work -- 07:22 p.m.
So I was putting the files into chronological order today. I got up to 1993. However, I had to start over when I was halfway through.
Twice. First, Dad decided he wanted me to file it in a different order. Second, the bookcases had been put together wrong by Edward, so we had to take them all to bits and rebuild them.
On a plus note, Friday! And mum made Stilton pizza for dinner. Yum.
Today I am reading about the sexual symbolism of Persephone. Work is boring.
At lunch, we went down the pub. It was very bizarre. I talked to Mick about the Eden project, Cornwall, hockey and PE teachers. Also Steve and Dad had a bizarre discussion about who wrote a song and how I didn't know (I was only 1 in 1986, how should I know?)
Tomorrow is Alresford school fete. I love the school fete. It's so diddy.
"Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind" -- Rudyard Kipling - and is this not a good quote from my inbox?
Scary thought #285: Next year, none of my primary school teachers will be teaching at the primary school any more. (Currently only Mrs Gray is still there).
Work legend #1: (I forget the rest) Steve Gillet can hear you if you stand the other side of the office and whisper his name.
Account number #######, citron, had a total of 45 visitors last week. Lalalala.
Apparently someone tried to deliver 2 parcels to me today, but I was out. How mysterious... I got delivered a freebie Tshirt from somewhere, though.
Just before we went home, the smell of aftershave was horrible.
Haha, the 'finishing music' (=1 minute left) just started on Ready Steady Cook (Matthew is watching it) and they all screamed.

28 June 2001 - weirdos -- 07:54 p.m.
The siblings are arguing about breasts. Oh, and now videos. Odd.
How much have I written today? RIdiculous.
Anyways. I would just like to applaud my parents for their name-choosing abilities. I am still convinced that names shouldn't be generation specific - one day, all the grannies will be called Kyleigh, Rochelle, etc. I like those names, but not for old people, or babies, you know? But me and the sibs (and the olds, for that matter) have names that work no matter how old you are.
Clap clap.

28 June 2001 - The pain -- 07:24 p.m.
I have a papercut. A papercut. Have you any idea how annoying that is when you have to go to a piano lesson? It gets stretched, especially, as in my case, when it's across a knuckle. Ow.
Yesterday, I don't know if I mentioned this, the siblings had a fight. It was very funny. There was this free bubblegum with Dad's Beano. 4 different flavours. So as me, Mum and Dad all despise bubble gum, they got two each. However, they both hated banana flavour - Matthew even claimed that it makes him throw up. So, they got one each, then dad held one in each hand behind his back and they picked. Matthew ended up with the banana. So he said 'I wanted that one anyway' and ate it.
Fools. And also, Matthew chewed each of his for 15 seconds before chewing it.
How I love my life.
Neil: (who also works at bdg) (to my parents yesterday when they went to Wivenhoe) Who is that woman who was doing the filing the other day?
Me! Ha, I love my life still more.
Today at work I sorted out dad's magazines (about building/CAD) which is how I got my papercut. It bled with spectacularity (see, I can get that into a sentence). Then I spent the rest of the day in the storeroom upstairs. By myself and clockless, sorting out about 50 boxes of files. It was so thrilling. Oh, and at lunchtime I bought a Big Issue, because I saw about a million people not buy one and I was in danger of becoming depressed.
And in piano I finally finished playing La Caroline, which I hate (mainly because of the annoying tripletty bit at the end), so I'm playing some Kabalevsky thing. 'Having fun.'
Do you know, I really love how 'telling your parents you are a witch' is called 'coming out of the broom closet'. That's so funny.
How brilliant: August is 'Admit you're happy month'. August 8, specifically. "Reading exercises our memories and imaginations. It can contribute to happiness in ways similiar to positive thinking. Regular readers are about 8 percent more likely to express daily satisfaction."
So there.

27 June 2001 - Rubber band blues -- 06:10 p.m.
Today I sorted out the superseded drawings from the cans again, I did 4 whole cans. The last one nearly fell over on top of me and all the paper fell off all over the floor so I had to pick them up and work out what order they went in. Also then I was forced to go and sit in a store room and do nothing, because there was nothing to do and Linda had gone home so couldn't give me more work. Boring.
Oh, and I missed having to carry everything out to the skip because I was on my lunch break. How terrible.
How bad was the storm last night?
A disturbing fact: Every 19 seconds (in Britain) an animal is intentionally hurt by a person.

26 June 2001 - Some more stuff, this time from home -- 08:05 p.m.
Dull... only one screen... elfwood is down because of death threats! Mi!
I have papercuts on my elbows from having my arms inside a filing cabinet all day. Not to mention the snapping rubber bands.
Ow. I've been standing up all day, my legs really kill, and it is so hot!
Today, I formulated a life philosophy (filing kind of does that to me):
You have to have fun today, but work hard enough to be able to have fun tomorrow too. It's a question of balance.
Meaningful, and yet not containing any long words. Groove.

26 June 2001 - aah! -- 01:50 p.m.
Worryingly, this page is in my dad's favorites as 'kt'. Ah.

26 June 2001 - thought -- 01:48 p.m.
"Diplomacy is the art of tranquil fishing in troubled waters" according to dad's calendar.
Note to self: You are not allowed to tell dad's coworkers that he goes to the gym. That you've technically told millions of people by putting it on your site is neither here nor their.
WL on tape to watch, yaya!

26 June 2001 - boredom -- 01:43 p.m.
Hi, this is me in my lunch break on Dad's computer. I've been filing all day, boring, and I just had a cheese sandwich (minus the apricots). This is so fun, dad has screens so I have my diary-update on one screen and my email on the other. La. Dad's screen is about twice as big as the one at home, it's very fun.
I have print marks all over my hands. I have to find any superseded prints, take them out, and then roll them up and label them with their project name and number. Not exactly taxing. But at least I'm being payed to be bored.

25 June 2001 - First Day of Work -- 06:43 p.m.
Today I went to work at bdg. I had to catalogue the plot titles in every drawer and rearrange the weird filing cabinets. Dad had a 5 hour meeting and I had to walk into town to buy my lunch.
Today I went to my daddy's work. I got to look through peoples' drawers and play with the giant ringbinder. I had a crayfish and rocket sandwhich for lunch and got to sit around doing nothing for 5 hours.
On a footnote, Matthew's had his phone confiscated already. Haha.

24 June 2001 - Hazelling again -- 09:23 p.m.
Hazel's thinking about fear. Someone asked her today what she was afraid of, and she couldn't think of anything to say. But she's worked it out.
Hazel Harman is scared of silence.
Take right now, for example. Noone's talking, but there's still sound. The filter on the fishtank that Abigail should be cleaning, Richard eating crisps, her parent's are reading books and the noise of page turning is louder than you'd think. And in the garden - birds, and Abigail playing something involving running around like a lunatic with some of her friends.
Living in a house with two parents and four siblings makes silence very unlikely. It just doesn't happen - and so the unfamiliar heavy oppressive lack of sound that is silence almost chokes her, until she thinks she'll go mad.
On the very rare occasions that she is the only one in the house, she does anything possible to create sound.
Think about it.
Every time you're at home on your own when someone else walks in, what's the first thing they ask you, Hazel? They ask you why you have the radio and the television on, even though you obviously aren't hearing either of them. And whenn you get up, if the house is deserted, you put the kettle on.
What noise does that make, Hazel?
Remember your end-of-year exams, do you? "Silence" - breathing, coughing, pens scratching, people searching their pencil cases - when there's thirty of you to a room, it all adds up.
Quite a stupid thing to fear. Damn it, she thinks, and turns on the radio.

24 June 2001 - La -- 09:20 p.m.
I'm on the old computer, as Lisa is rewriting her assembly because the other version was stupid and typo-filled. My project is up but contentless, so remains hidden for a bit. Tomorrow I start work - helping Linda file things. And because I'm a non-tax payer in full-time education, I get payed cash, which is much more entertaining to my mind. Anyway. I would like to take this opportunity to tell you how lovely Lisa is. She read my Hazeling (I did some more: coming soon) and went on for ages about how brilliant was. Lalala. How lovely she is.
Happy happy. Oh, and Emo Philips is very funny.

24 June 2001 - Sort-of Grandad's Day -- 02:29 p.m.
Grandad is here, we've just eaten gammon, and I'm reading the script for Lisa's form's assembly while she does homework, Matthew plays with his phone, and the olds watch the Grand Prix (I think).
Lisa's assembly is very odd. Big Brother/Holiday programme thing. "The moral of this story is don't die when your friend's on holiday because they won't be able to help you." Right then.
Well, I'm bored. I have a new project, tell you where it is when it's finished 'kay? Oh, and Ruth if you read this - I'm on holiday August 4 - 18, and I don't have your mobile number.

23 June 2001 - Lalala -- 09:10 p.m.
Fan mail! Ooh ooh! Anyway, Claline is here, and tomorrow we're doing father's day for grandad (he was busy on Actual Father's Day last weekend). Everyone is watching Gladiator. After 10 minutes, I guess: Red top guy who decapitated people and is a general is going to fall in love with fur lady, who fancies him, and will fight with ugly blue prince guy for her love and win. So I'm now not watching.
Also, Matthew has a mobile phone, joy of joy. He's playing with it and it's beeping annoyingly.
The previous entry was inspired by the fact that I woke up and refused to get up at 8 am on a Saturday, and is very bizarre. Just random Hazeling. And I'm writing her another one because she insisted (she says, because she asked so nicely - damn my schizophrenia, will she never say what I tell her to? <g>) about the 7 deadly sins. If it's not stupid I may post it.

23 June 2001 - Hazeling -- 09:08 p.m.

Hazel woke up facing the clock. 11.17, Saturday morning. She closed her eyes again, and listened. Hazel's party trick is being able to tell where any member of her family is just by the sounds her house makes.

Start with the easy ones. Lilith is in her own house in far-off Devon, smoking cigarettes and drinking something alcoholic. She always is. Katrina's not here either - she's at some boarding school for juvenile delinquents on the other side of the country. These are always that same, so they come first in her list every day. Why don't you just miss them out, then? Well, because that would be cheating. Anyway, the whole thing was entirely meaningless - just something to pass the time until her brain wakes up, more interesting than the seven times table at any rate.

Okay, her parents. The olds, as Abigail has taken to calling them. Listening harder, she could hear someone moving around in the room below her. The kitchen. And whoever it was obviously knew where things were, judging from the absence of muttered 'where does she keep the saucepans?' - it had to be her mum. So where was her dad? She couldn't hear him anywhere - oh. Wait, it's Saturday morning, he'll have gone to see Eldabeth.

Stupid, she almost panicked then, over nothing at all. Obviously she's not fully awake yet.

That just leaves Abigail and Richard. There's music playing somewhere down the hall, the same tune has been repeating at least three times since she's woken up. It must have been somebody's favourite song. She makes a vague attempt to understand the words - '...singing in a subway, waiting for a tune...' - bizarre. It's coming from Richard's room, so either he's in there or he's pretending to just to annoy her. But she's never told anyone about the Game, so why should he? She's getting to be really paranoid these days.

Abigail. Princess Pinya, as she likes to call herself. Her bizarre, nickname-obsessed sister who is-

"Blue!"

Ah, she's making it easy today. Who is 'blue', anyway? Male or female? Person, animal or inanimate object? It doesn't matter now, she's found everyone. Abigail, in the hall, with blue. Satisfied, Hazel finally gets up, ignoring the fact that she's insane.

22 June 2001 - ih -- 12:48 p.m.
Something bizarre has happened to the computer. All the writing on all the websites is bigger. Well anyway, banzai was funny again. I successfully guessed which woman was actually a man and which had had her breasts enlarged. Last night the parents went pub quizzing (why of course, it's Thursday after all) and won. When they got back dad started ranting about how crossdressers are mad. How strange.
Today is the day after I finish exams, and Monday is the day I start going to work for the rest of the holiday. Dull and boring, but otherwise I'll just sit around eating chocolate all day.

21 June 2001 - Anticlimax -- 01:57 p.m.
I've finished my GCSEs. Now I'm bored. Nothing to do... la. Om. Etc.
Ring, ring.
"Hello?" "Hi, it's me." "Hi mum." "So you've finished! Are you relieved?" "It's sort of an anticlimax." "Yes I suppose so... you're not drunk then?" "No." "You've bought lots of books?" "Yes. I'm watching Banzai." "Oh, that's good." "They're doing supermarket trolley jousting." "... they're what?" "Supermarket trolley jousting. And before they were squirrel fishing." "Don't be daft, squirrels can't swim." "No, with peanuts in a tree." "Oh right. Well... I'll see you in a bit. Bye." "Bye."

20 June 2001 - Just Random Thoughts -- 01:34 p.m.
Too much caffeine can often lead to panic attacks, apparently. That could explain my jumpy life.

20 June 01 - Bliss -- 12:48 p.m.
Bliss... not having to get up until lunchtime on a weekday... Well anyway. It's the hottest day of the year. So I'm on the computer, this being the coldest place in the house other than the freezer. It's not that hot, but any excuse.
Roundabouts are go, the builders have stopped spraying orange paint onto the roads and have built roundabouts. Mum's sorted out the bassoon - it took about 4 seconds, unlike Mann's Music who have taken, oh about 9 weeks or something?
Banzai was hilarious as always, especially 'how many helium balloons does it take to float a chicken?'. My dad watched it but kept falling asleep.
God, The Devil and Bob had some excellent lines - "I'm no prude, I invented sex" (says God). Ha.
Well, this entry's long enough for now.

19 June 2001 - ow -- 10:52 a.m.
Archived entries here. Well I just had a large coughing fit, ah well. Well anyway. I just had a history exam, which means I have only two exams left. Chemistry extension this afternoon, maybe I should learn analysis? No, can't be bothered. History was about Abyssinia - for the last question we were supposed to use all source a-h and I only used c, so I had to write a load of randomness on the end. Mrs Dye and Selpin forgot to check that people had filled in their forms so had to run around and give everyone's papers back. Ha.
Dad has returned from Le Mans - Bentley came 3rd, which is apparently A Good Thing. Tell them to update please. Anyway, la. He only got rained to death, you know. Well I can't think of anything to say (so I'm not doing very well at all really am I?)