Chronically Awkward

Monday 21 October 2013

Anonymous 02:04 0

So..Tomorrow is Monday...Back to School kmt

This is how my morning will go, and every morning will go until half-day Thursday:

Tuesday 8 October 2013

Anonymous 01:26 0

Walking To and From School is Just a Parrrr!!!

First of all, formalities:

(courtesy of Urban Dictionary)

1. Par

When something happens to you that is considered by many to be an extremely rude breach of social standard. This includes getting dissed, getting slapped, being swiftly rejected by a girl you've been making advances on, when someone or something causes unnecessary hardship, or even being ignored my your mum. In short, it is getting demoralised. Hard.

2. Par

When something bad happens to you or your being ignored

Person 1: You just missed the bus!

Person 2: Thats a par!

3. Par

It's means the say as boyed or shame

It's normally used in a sentence...

Boy1: I failed the math test

Boy2: Bruv, that's a par

So, now everyone (Londoner or not) will understand why this word describes my now awful trek to school.

Not once, not twice, but three times now miniature canines - THAT is the biggest (or rather smallest) insult of this whole ordeal, these dogs are smaller than the bag I'm carrying - have rolled up on me as I'm walking either near school or home. And I don't mean oh just a bark here and there, a whole lot of noise. I mean growling, snarling and coming AT me full on.

These dogs are not punks - but they must take me for one! Here I am thinking if I keep walking past and incidentally close to their direction, they will realise I'm bigger and back off. NO. These demoniacally possessed creatures move in as if to bite me.

OH. #SideNote their owners are in FULL view! But please believe they don't intervene until these little rats come and try bite me. Talking about come here Fifi, stop that now!

WHAT?!

Is my name Bob for you to be treating me like some any fool?!

Your dog is ready to take a chunk out of people. WHY is it running out in the yard not on a leash like say its a cat? Put that thing on a choke chain! Don't give it some pink bandanna neck tie that ain't fooling NO ONE!

Now, I'll admit, I was caught between self preservation and animal cruelty. I didn't kick out at these things because I didn't want to actually have to fight for my life, and because I don't wanna accidentally kill them or whatever and get their owners vex....

BUT. One lone attack and two mutts trying to double team me today....NAH BLUD!

#SideNote :

2. blud

mainly used in the uk

"blud" comes from bredrin (brother)

or blood brother

blud, doesn't havent to mean a literal brother

more like a friend

"how you blud?"

"safe blud"

IT'S NOT GOIN DOWN!!

Next time - Lord Jesus let there not be one - there are only 2 phases:

Call out the owner in my non existent French.
Fight Fifi's behind if she's feelin froggy...

Wish me luck guys....tomorrow is a new game.

Wednesday 2 October 2013

Anonymous 02:21 0

Mama's Got A Brand New Bag...

Or at least she would have if life would not stop jackin up my shopping trip adventure plans...

I get the feeling God is trying to tell me something.....

3 times I've tried, and 3 times I've failed.

Attempt #1 - Politeness kills. Out with everybody else, didn't wanna kill the vibe so instead of spending all my money in every shop and buying myself a new season wardrobe ~~that would only be of use for a month because of winter~~ I didn't follow my dreams, but instead opted out and followed the crowd to get some munch (quelle surprise [see, my français is improving daily...but if that's grammatically incorrect have me assassinated because that is just sad....]).

Attempt #2 - Countryside also kills. See the post before this..

Attempt #3 - I didn't press play, my adventure got taped over. Instead of setting of bright and early in search of my ethnic friendly haven (Grace Ottawa) full of hair products, Xpressions, plantain, cocoa butter, coconut oil, threading and who knows what else (notice the joys of multi-culturality London has taught me to appreciate) we didn't leave the house until 13:30....lets just not. And by the time we trekked all the way to Ottawa we only had time to have our meet up date with two lovely Canadian girls (one who had been an FLA in Ireland last year + friend). Not gonna lie, for a good long, long, looooong while (basically most of the journey there) I was crying (alright fuming) on the inside that I would once again not be cocooned in the warm embrace of F21 and Sephora, my arms weighted down with bags full of 'only found in North America' goodies. BUT. I got to practice my French, a lot. Something I haven't actually done a lot of (for those of you that don't know, as far as I'm concerned, the first month of any year abroad placement is a write-off)...and I was understood [YASS!]. Added bonus - we now have two Canadian friends, our age, to practice speaking with and have been invited round for poutine.

So. To close. I'm currently retail therapy deficient but my acquaintance/friendship stats are up.

#SideNote - I cannot get over the Canadian 'left cheek first' double kissing thing...kissing is awkward enough but Spain and Cuba helped me learn to get over my British possum-like defensive frigidness in that area, but the panic about 'who goes left first' is just annoying!

Flip sake Québec. Flip. Sake.