Blarck. Snark. Snerk. Bleh. Blah.

I'm of to Lancaster tomorrow morning to visit Natasha and John. Therefore I shall be away from the computer until Sunday night. Therefore I shall miss the first PP chat in a very long time. *sniffs*

Even more than that, thanks to the entire universe conspiring against me, I have had not had enough time to master Cakewalk and record some stuff well enough so that I can make a CD for Natasha. I wanted to give her my very first CD, and I shall... just not tomorrow. Bugger fucking arsey bollocking wanky shite.

But on the plus side, my tambourine (purple! star shaped!) rattles with every letter I type. It's v cool and if I try hard enough, I can manage to type (and rattle) to the music I'm listening to. Music is a wondrous thing and should be made more of in schools, not less. I'm sure Callie knows what I mean!

And now for the Nickname thing.

If you call me Clare... you're probably everyone I ever met. It is not a name that works with short versions or nicknames.
If you call me Klare... you're Richard and still remember us deciding to spell our names differently/how they sounded in Mrs Porter's class.
If you call me Curlywurly... you're not saying anything I haven't fucking heard before. Yes, I did know that my surname is Worley and thus lends itself to the chocolate/toffee confectionery, which I have eaten many times. I don't mind, really, but PLEASE don't think you're being original.
If you call me Twirly, Twirls, Twirlywirly, Curlywurlyburlysurlytwirlycurlywurly... you were my History teacher Mr Barnes and are thus as mad as a hatter. This is the same if you sing my name like in the Gilbert O'Sullivan song when taking the register.
If you call me Qwirlywurly or Qwirly or Qwirls... you are Penny, the mother of some of my primary school & guides friends (Jemima, Tamara and Gaelah) and I love ya for it, even though the original joke was never that funny!
If you call me CLARE!!... you are my mother and really don't need to shout- I'm not deaf and our house isn't that big.
If you call me bird or sweetie... you are Natasha and my bestest friend in the entire world ever.
If you call me Cl...mumblemumble... you are my brother (or indeed, any of his friends) and need to learn to enunciate.
If you call me Claaare... you are my brother and want money.
If you call me Clara Bow or Clarabella... you are my godfather being silly when I was a child.
If you call me Christina Rossetti or Tintoretto Maiden... you are my godfather being silly now.
If you call me Worley... you're likely someone I was at school with who didn't deign use my first name. If so, you have my full permission to fuck off.
If you call me Apolla... you know me from the HP fandom, LJ etc but not well enough to do the Clare thing.
If you call me Apollonia... you know me from the Buffy fandom, which is unlikely as I was never that much into it.
If you call me normajeanedimaggio... you're in PP chat and both don't know me from fandom (understandable) and didn't read the intros properly!
If you call me the Rocker... you've seen my Y!M status message, whether you know it's a Thin Lizzy lyric or not.
If you call me fuckwit/spackwit/fool/bloody fucking idioting fool... you're me and I've done something fuckwittish again like spilling Newman's Own everywhere or stubbing me toe against something again or putting five teaspoons of honey in a cup of tea.
If you call me insane... you're perfectly correct.

Also: on Friends tonight- how contrived was the 'we're bored with Charlie, let's find a way to get rid of her scenario'. Even if Greg Kinnear was there. Try harder, people!

Oh, and yesterday in Shorthand class we did a proper test again for a certificate (only a university one though) and I managed ONE HUNDRED WORDS A MINUTE. This was helped by our teacher Susan giving us the easiest passage in the world, but 100 wpm nonetheless.

Blarck. Snark. Snerk. Bleh. Blah.

I'm of to Lancaster tomorrow morning to visit Natasha and John. Therefore I shall be away from the computer until Sunday night. Therefore I shall miss the first PP chat in a very long time. *sniffs*

Even more than that, thanks to the entire universe conspiring against me, I have had not had enough time to master Cakewalk and record some stuff well enough so that I can make a CD for Natasha. I wanted to give her my very first CD, and I shall... just not tomorrow. Bugger fucking arsey bollocking wanky shite.

But on the plus side, my tambourine (purple! star shaped!) rattles with every letter I type. It's v cool and if I try hard enough, I can manage to type (and rattle) to the music I'm listening to. Music is a wondrous thing and should be made more of in schools, not less. I'm sure Callie knows what I mean!

And now for the Nickname thing.

If you call me Clare... you're probably everyone I ever met. It is not a name that works with short versions or nicknames.
If you call me Klare... you're Richard and still remember us deciding to spell our names differently/how they sounded in Mrs Porter's class.
If you call me Curlywurly... you're not saying anything I haven't fucking heard before. Yes, I did know that my surname is Worley and thus lends itself to the chocolate/toffee confectionery, which I have eaten many times. I don't mind, really, but PLEASE don't think you're being original.
If you call me Twirly, Twirls, Twirlywirly, Curlywurlyburlysurlytwirlycurlywurly... you were my History teacher Mr Barnes and are thus as mad as a hatter. This is the same if you sing my name like in the Gilbert O'Sullivan song when taking the register.
If you call me Qwirlywurly or Qwirly or Qwirls... you are Penny, the mother of some of my primary school & guides friends (Jemima, Tamara and Gaelah) and I love ya for it, even though the original joke was never that funny!
If you call me CLARE!!... you are my mother and really don't need to shout- I'm not deaf and our house isn't that big.
If you call me bird or sweetie... you are Natasha and my bestest friend in the entire world ever.
If you call me Cl...mumblemumble... you are my brother (or indeed, any of his friends) and need to learn to enunciate.
If you call me Claaare... you are my brother and want money.
If you call me Clara Bow or Clarabella... you are my godfather being silly when I was a child.
If you call me Christina Rossetti or Tintoretto Maiden... you are my godfather being silly now.
If you call me Worley... you're likely someone I was at school with who didn't deign use my first name. If so, you have my full permission to fuck off.
If you call me Apolla... you know me from the HP fandom, LJ etc but not well enough to do the Clare thing.
If you call me Apollonia... you know me from the Buffy fandom, which is unlikely as I was never that much into it.
If you call me normajeanedimaggio... you're in PP chat and both don't know me from fandom (understandable) and didn't read the intros properly!
If you call me the Rocker... you've seen my Y!M status message, whether you know it's a Thin Lizzy lyric or not.
If you call me fuckwit/spackwit/fool/bloody fucking idioting fool... you're me and I've done something fuckwittish again like spilling Newman's Own everywhere or stubbing me toe against something again or putting five teaspoons of honey in a cup of tea.
If you call me insane... you're perfectly correct.

Also: on Friends tonight- how contrived was the 'we're bored with Charlie, let's find a way to get rid of her scenario'. Even if Greg Kinnear was there. Try harder, people!

Oh, and yesterday in Shorthand class we did a proper test again for a certificate (only a university one though) and I managed ONE HUNDRED WORDS A MINUTE. This was helped by our teacher Susan giving us the easiest passage in the world, but 100 wpm nonetheless.