This is my second blog of the day. I just really feel the need to post right now as a certain guy is not online and I am in the best writing mood. Oh my gosh, I think I will be able to write this blog really quickly.
Okay, so today I went outside. I went for a walk, actually, with my friend. My hair was really dodgy, but luckily for me, I found my pretty hat the other day. It made my hair at least semi-bareable. I am in need of a haircut very badly, my split ends have gotten so bad due to me never feeling like putting protection in when I straighten it. My heat-protection spray smells like oranges. I love it. It just feels horrible when I put it in.
I am afraid to get my hair cut because I know when they go to cut my split ends off I will be left with no hair. I kind of like having hair.
Tomorrow I am going to the coast. But as it turns out, I will not be swimming, and I will not be getting a tan. Instead, I will be picking up my brother from the beautiful beach house he is staying at, and then leaving. There's no point in going, really, except that afterwards we are going to Rochedale.
What is Rochedale? The town where my mother grew up, and where I spent close to every weekend as a child. My mum lived on a farm, where my grandparents lived up until a few years ago. It is honestly my favourite place in the world.
It's a fairly big farm, I think. I don't know how many acres. There is a field of lettuce, carrot and whatever the hell else they want, a few cow paddocks, a huge horse paddock and a really, really, really huge paddock of custard apples, which is really scary. There's also this big tree that is amazing for climbing. I love climbing trees, I'm so ninja at it, even if I am really gumby any other time.
My favourite cousin, the only one with whom I get along, is not going to be there, but I am still looking forward to spending an hour in that tree.
Sometime this week I realised that it had been a while since I had noticed a random bruise, but yesterday one came up on my leg, and I saw one on my arm when I was straightening my hair this morning. I really do not appreciate this, because these aren't the bruises that feel cool when you touch them, they're the ones that really, really hurt.
Okay, so I went on my Booksie (writing site) yesterday and I had all my old stories and stuff on there. I actually had a lot more comments than I remember. But I decided since it's been so long since I last posted that I should start again, therefore I deleted everything and I have now posted my 'first' thing.
Unless your name is Bren, click HERE and read chapter one. If your name IS Bren, ignore this paragraph and definitely do not click there.
It sucks when your boyfriend reads your blog. No offence Bren, I just don't want you to read my crappy writing... It's embarrassing.
Anyway, I'm meant to be asleep. I have to get up early tomorrow. Sigh. Goodnight everyone.