24th October 2007

Cats talk in their sleep

They really do. Spider slept on a beanbag in my bed last night, and just as I was about to fall asleep he starts talking to himself. Obviously not in English, but cat language. It was something like “muh muh mow maah [pause] mowwww [purr] mah-owww [snort]”. I was trying not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. He opened one eye and looked at me sarcastically, and then rolled over, went to sleep and continued to make one-sided cat-conversation with himself.
Cats are truly wonderful.

2nd October 2007

The New Terrorist Threat

Well, it’s not every day you’re walking home from school and you see someone zooming down the road on a quadbike, with a bandana over their head, a scarf over their mouth and massive visor-type sunglasses on. How completely un-inconspicuous is that?

26th September 2007

I am old.

It is only when you see two people younger than you engaging in activity of the snogging type, and feel disgusted, that you realise how old you really are. Or maybe people are just growing up too fast. Especially when you knew one of the people when they were about eleven, and you feel like a parent whose watched their child grow up and become a hormonal teenager.
Finally, I understand my parents.
I have reached enlightenment.

23rd September 2007

Now available in fat free

Edit: I just had to document this little snippet of my stupidity, from an MSN conversation:

Tish 21:27 haha microsoft comes up as a spelling mistake on my mac
Tish 21:28:07 cause it spell checks everything you write
Tish 21:28:10 apple doesnt
Tish 21:28:15 well duh tish, apple is a word
Tish 21:28:22 -_-

I’ve gone on a pedantic optimisation spree - and I can gladly report that this front page alone weighs just 40kb. Yes, that’s right folks - a measly 40kb. I wish I could say the same for myself - I weigh about 60kg. I really need to go about trying to convert kilograms to kilobytes, don’t I? I should have a go at that, actually. I should even write a PHP script and put a converter up. The only problem being - I’m not a l33t PHP ninja

I’ve added a tag cloud to the footer, and I took away the buttons. They were piling on the pounds/bytes/whatever and they were kind of superfluous, really. I still need ideas on what else I’m going to add. Maybe a piratey cat quote rotation. Yarr me hearties, yo ho ho and a bottle of milk. That wasn’t funny, but whatever

Now, out of cyberspace and back into real life: I’ve decided I want to play drums properly. Of course, a drum kit costs about £250 - and I wont be able to practice in my own garage/house/room since it’s very noisy. I already play guitar and a sufficient amount of keyboard; I just really like making noise on drums. I have quite a good sense of rhythm, but as anyone who has ever tried to play drums will know, bringing a foot (or two) into something really throws it all off. I’m pretty sure I can get used to it, though. I prefer drums over guitar because I have very short, weak fingers, which means after more than two or three minutes of playing something that involves a lot of moving around, my hand becomes inundated in lactic acid - you know, the stuff that makes your legs feel like they’re burning in agony when you run for too long. I’m also quite clumsy with my fingers, so I always end up hitting the wrong notes or fretting the wrong string.

Next layout idea: cat on a drum kit (:

11th September 2007

I can’t think of a title.

Is my site just too awesome? Is that why nobody is reviewing it on YS.nu?
Go on (:

I wont bore you with the details of my first few days back at school. Basically, we’re all mixed up for lessons now, and we have some new teachers. One teacher I’ve had for two years already, and I’ve only just realised that she has a Yorkshire accent. And another teacher looks like action man and sounds like Tony Blair. Hilarious, I know.

Oh yeah, and how the hell do you get to my site by searching “emo clothes for cats”? Haha.
Who would search that anyway?
Is there someone, somewhere, dressing their cat up in black and sticking safety pins through its ears as we speak?
Deary me.

5th September 2007

Ahoy there

It’s currently 9:27am and I’m leaving for school at 10:10. We only have to be in at 11:25 because of all the little year sevens who get to go in early. Aww.
I couldn’t get up this morning. 8am has to be the earliest I’ve woken up all holiday. And now I feel like such a lazy arse. Let’s see what I’ve accomplished during my holiday, in order:

• I got into the final six for the SUSO art competition
• I had my birthday! 14 grand years old. I feel wise.
• Had £100 from my granddad and spent it on clothes… and hairspray
• Got my hair cut
• Went to the Apple store to buy my shiny MacBook!
• Went to Teen Culture (snore) and raved like a lunatic
• Watched everyone else go on holiday
• Didn’t go to Holland
• Got asked by everyone: “why would you want to go to Holland?” - I was born there
• Got bored and registered thecatmafia.net because it became possible
• Wrote an essay on censorship because I felt like it (see Goodies section)
• Bought shoes for school
• Found out I was the runner up in the art competition and won £50
• Got pins and needles from sitting awkwardly on my bed with my laptop

No holiday affairs or interesting things like that here. Although, I suppose I’ve done a fair bit in six weeks. I went in with 13 years of age, came out with 14, a MacBook, a haircut, new clothes, a domain name and £50. I guess I did pretty good, huh?
Off to school now, if I can find my (non-existent) tie. No, I don’t wear a tie, I’m just confusing myself. I can’t spell either. Girls’ grammar schools really take their toll on your sanity, you know (:

2nd September 2007

Oh yay.

Back to school in two days.
After three years of messing about, not doing any work and swearing at teachers behind their backs, I have to actually get down to business and be serious. Guaranteed, I will burst out laughing in the middle of one of their “this is serious” assemblies. I don’t want to grow up. Yet I feel myself getting older and older as time passes me by.
I will have to make new friends, as we are getting mixed up for lessons this year. In other schools I think you get mixed from the start, but not us. Up until year ten, we have lessons in the same form, with the exception of ICT and D&T where we the forms are split into halves.
I guess I’m kind of excited to see all my friends again, but I really don’t want to have to do any work. I like lazy time. Oh well, roll on November 26th, I’m going to see the Kaiser Chiefs! I’m already excited. I wish Ricky would crowd surf so I could touch him at least. I don’t think he will though, the stage is too far away from the crowd at the NIA (or so I’ve been told). I can’t believe it. I’ll actually see them all, real, alive, in the flesh. I want to touch Nick’s hair, damnit
Right, so I’ve wandered off into another topic as usual. I’m currently sitting at my laptop with a jar of Nutella, drowning my sorrows in it. I might get a cup of tea actually. Here I am, wandering again. My mind is in no state to return to the (run by hypocritical fascists) institute of learning. I can’t spell, I can’t write legibly, I can’t add and I can’t think in a straight line. In the words of the Beatles: help! :S :rawr:

31st August 2007

Is it wrong?

I’ve suddenly developed an affixation with Kaiser Chiefs’ drummer, Nick Hodgson. Well, not suddenly, it’s been hibernating in the back of my mind for quite some time; but when you’re bored and you go searching on Google images, wonderful things can happen. And I now find myself in love^[1] with someone who is fifteen years older than me, famous, and has a girlfriend. Yet I get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when I hear him sing (very badly, eeek) or speak (love Yorkshire accents!) or see a picture of him looking pointy and long-haired. I’m officially an obsessed, crazed fangirl.

Wouldn’t it be amusing if Nick searched his own name on Google and this came up somewhere? If you’re reading this Nick, I’ve probably gotten over you by now, considering the amount of time Google takes to spider pages and for people like me to get to the top of search lists. Nevertheless, I would like to hear from you, since I am probably the most famous Kaiser Chiefs’ fan on the internet (hah, as if, Tish…) and I absolutely love you all. I will be somewhere near the front of the crowd wearing a white “YOURS TRULY ANGRY MOB” t-shirt at your Birmingham NIA gig on November 26th. Please feel free to throw your drumsticks at/to me

1. I use the term loosely. By love, I mean infatuation You know, the type that makes you focus on one person only and lets you forget about everything/one else…

27th August 2007

Proof that Britain’s education system is in decline

Hmm.
Someone’s MSN name today:
woo result’s where god i gotz A* in english
Oh deary me.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a joke.

Side note: I just did the National IQ Test 2007, and scored 116 (54/70). Pretty good considering the surgeons’ average was 101, and they didn’t have my age on the conversion table. Danny Wallace got 119, so assuming I gain three or four points for being 14, I’m as smart as him!

26th August 2007

Psycho killer, que’est-ce que c’est

I know variety is what makes life interesting, but when it comes to mood swings, variety is just plain mean.
One moment I’m all happy and smiley, looking forward to going to school and seeing my friends again, where I will point and laugh at the year sevens who have to go through three years of geography, music and design technology - subjects I was glad to drop for my GCSE course.
The next moment I feel panic nauseous and suicidal, because a) I have to write letters for work experience and it’s just sitting in the back of my mind, nibbling away at me like some kind of parasite, b) I have to buy shoes for school, damnit, and c) I’ve convinced myself that I’m in love (read: lust) with someone who absolutely hates me and is a total arse.
Then comes stage three, the insane psycho killer (I have an urge to say que’est-ce que c’est). Running around like a lunatic, wide eyes, dilated pupils, swearing to exterminate anything that so much as dares to stand in the way of me and my sanity. The irony here of course, is that I am the one standing in the way of my own sanity. Needless to say, this eventually leads to self-destruction of the soul.
Damn hormones :grr:

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