No men/boys/people of the male gender in between the first two categories know the true extent of pain women go through. Splinters, headaches, stubbed toes and trapped thumbs pale into insignificance, as does the infamous Man Flu. I spent an hour in a scalding hot shower this morning washing away the pain. It almost worked.


In other, less painful news, Chrisie took Mami's phone to a party ... (more of an orgy style do...no doubt lots of alcohol, drugs and sex involved, and NO, the parents were NOT in!)... some "chavs" invaded the party, and stole the phone.

Let me describe this phone. It was the first nokia ever. The 3310. It has a scratched purple cover. It closely resembles a purple brick. Almost as heavy. So...the phone was stolen by yoofs in the Clayton area. Who proceeded to ring all the numbers in the phone book, to abuse poor unsuspecting people late at night. They rung Mami's friend:

"Hey...the person who's phone this is...is she fit?? Is she? Where does she live...?" Insert the occassional "innit" somewhere. And probably "fookin'".

When they got to the "Home" entry, they demanded £20 for the return of the phone. The Brick can surely not be worth so much?

Mami is gutted. No new phone will ever be brick-esque or purple enough for her. If she gets a new one, it will take her at least half a year to master turning it on and off successfully, and a further two years to make a call.

*pain*

Well, it's been a new blog every few weeks, or so it feels, for quite a while, but this blog has a different feel to it. I actually LIKE this one. In this first blog, I'll introduce the "characters" or "cast" who play a role in my life, admittedly, some bigger than others.

Me: I won't name myself. Not properly. I shall remain "Me" or "KiwiQueen". I'm nearly 16, come from the middle of England, from a depressing place not even worth naming. There's not much to me really. I like surfing the net, reading, and getting things done on time. I hate being late. I have an "other half". That's what it feels like. This leads me onto:

The Boyfriend: I won't name Him either. He'll remain The Boyfriend. He's sweet, he's caring, he's insecure, he's charming, he's emotional, he's sensitive...the list goes on. I've been with him for over a year. A year and four days to be exact. Not that I'm counting!! I see The Boyfriend a lot. We can't wait till college next year, hopefully the same uni, and then...living together. Bliss. OK, I know I shouldn't expect too much. But still, I really CAN imagine us at 25, living together, sleeping together.... (I'm giving him this web address, unlike the last blog, which was a secret one. I have guilty feelings attached to this other blog, so I'm no longer doing secret things, nor am I writing in that blog ever again.)

Judith: A good friend of mine. She's small, she's sexy, she's flirty. The Boyfriend HATES her. That's no exaggeration. I have to remind him on a weekly basis to feign indifference. I can understand WHY he doesn't like her (ish). She can exude quite a "slaggish" image. Even teachers on school trips pick up on it. Mr Dawson: "You're desperate, Judith! Your arm is wrapped around a different boy every night!" But she's not really like that. She's just not at all self-conscious, and she loves herself, in a good way. (No, I'll never be like her!Worry not...)

Mami: My mother. She's artistic, funny, easy-going. People always say how vibrant she is, and it's true. From the clothes she wears to the crazy dancing she does at parties. I hardly ever fight with her. She's too nice.

Dad: Slightly less easy going. We have quite a sporadic relationship, and it usually relies on whether he and Mami are talking or not. Generally, he's big-hearted and good at fixing things. And cooking. And being late. And going over the top with something. Being embarrassing is another thing he excells at. For example, the time we were waiting for a parent's evening appointment with my RE teacher, Ms Veater, and he started singing (quite loudly) Lovely Rita by the Beatles, only adapting it. *cringes*

Len and Chrisie: Younger brother and sister respectively. Len is into gameboys (oh wait, I tell a lie...Nintendo DS's. Totally different apparently), and doing Fawlty Towers impressions. Chrisie is into parties, dying her hair, very very loud Rammstein music, and punk-esque clothing.

Dodo: The budgie. He sings. He dances. He hangs upside down like a bat. The all singing, all dancing, all hanging-upside-down budgie. In a surge of evilness, he bit The Boyfriend's ear. Not a good move.

Hannah: AKA Hanny Moo. A mentalist, in a good way. With her little tuft. My best friend. Haven't seen much of her lately. The days of chin-propping-up are not forgotten, though. Nor are the days singing away on the beloved step...RIP. Alex should be mentioned here too. She is equally mad. In an even madder way than Hannah.

Nick: Got to mention the mentalist." Mentalist in a bad way. My sister's totally unsuitable ex. Got her into loads of trouble. Has a red/pink fading mohican and leather jackets proclaiming the greatness of blood and killing and the SEX Pistols. Grrrrrrrrr. *hisses and snarls* Dad has a panic attack everytime Nick's shadow darkens our doorstop. We have the paper bags at the ready.

That's about it. If there are extra characters who need mentioning...I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.