Today's the day. Right now I'm absolutely knackered. I've slept about twenty hours in the last four days because I just can't get to sleep and I've been on the bus for three hours to get my GCSE certificates. At half five I have to get off to Leicester square for an exhibition thing, with celebrities (apparently. I'm not holding my breath!) Unfortunately I'll be going alone, cos both of my friends have cancelled on me so my esteem is not exactly on a all-time high. I still have to go. Hey, maybe I'll meet someone there.
Ooh, news. I have a crush! There's this gorgeous black punk girl with dreads, a stripey scarf and drainpipe jeans who's on my bus every morning. She has a beautiful smile, hazel eyes. She's goes to my college but she walks too fast for me to catch up. Sounds ridiculous but she does. We've been making eyes at other but I don't know where I stand yet.
On Wednesday I was feeling so dangerously low I had to bunk off college. I felt as if no one wanted to talk to me but I had nowhere to go. I decided to for 6 stops and get off the bus. I ended up on this Green bit. There were lots of chestnut trees and Victorian period houses. Right by the busstop a black mercedes hearse was loading up a coffin, the family watching. They looked very somber, and there were SUVs everywhere. It was very old fashioned: they had the funeral man in a black tailcoat and a top hat walk down the road as the hearse rolls to the church, which was strange as there were on each corner here. I stood and nodded at them as the hearse rolled away. In my oatmeal coloured woolly mammoth hoody I found a church garden. I sat on the bench and promptly started crying. It was just a way to relieve the pressure: as simple as a peaceful, private place to cry. I felt as if I could sense of things again and build a real identity for myself (how the hell do you do THAT?)
Afterwards I walked onto the green, surrounded by buses and collected falling conkers from the chestnut trees. I love conkers. When you find a good one, they're really smooth and chocolate brown with wood grooves. Conkers always remind me of mum, I'm not sure why. Maybe because she loves nature and walks and that, but we've never collected conkers together, but when I collect conkers I feel closer to my mum, and I feel like a kid again. I also start collecting conkers when I feel sad and desperate and insomniac.
After that, things have been easier: I've finally got my certificates from high school, and I saw some of my friends who I haven't spoken to for over 18 months. I've been reading Murakami a lot, so thats always good. And today, entering the Oxbridge rat race, we were shown a previous History aptitude test (we have to do a special test. (Yay!) and it doesn't look too bad. Actually, it looks kinda fun! Its more about the nature of history and general questions about how important the individual is, or about revolutions. It'll be interesting to read up on all that. Apparently its designed to make you panic, but it's not that bad, really. But now I gotta go and get changed and tidy the house a little and be charming, and then write a bloody review and try to push it! I'm nuts!
But....its time for change. The person who I am is fake, its not me. I'm naturally happy. I'm restricted by my fakeness and it needs to go. I've been pretending for so long, I want to stop. So, its time to time start over again. I'm still Betty - I love the name and its too much hassle. But its time to stop noting down everything I do wrong and time to start Unfurling (taken from a brilliant ex-blog) and Be...
So, say hello to the Successful F*ck Up!