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apollaOK. Spoke to my mummy on the phone this evening. She claims her email was a joke, but I think she said that after calming down a little and deciding to be amused above all else.
1. I don't think I told my dad how much I spent on my beautiful new guitar and so my mum probably thought I'd blown a grand on one or something. Such a thing would not be entirely out of the question from someone as barmy as me.
2. From her point of view it was totally out of the blue except that I've been saying for a while now that I intended to be a rock star.
I hate the way my mum makes me well angry with her sometimes, the way she can make me swear bloody murder about her and is then really nice to me and makes me feel bad for being disloyal. Is this a common Mum trait or just my bad luck? She uttered her famous 'it's your money' line when I tried to tell her how much it was, which makes me think perhaps she just needed some time to think on it, or she needed to hear my side via the email. I don't know- I stopped trying to work her out a long bloody time ago.
She has, however, said that she will not send it up to me because it will cost a fortune. Not being totally stupid, I didn't disagree with her, but I might at some point ask my dad to make discreet enquiries as to shipping costs- I don't go home until 14th November, and even then I'm coming home on the plane, so how I'm supposed to get it on the plane, off the plane and on the Metro, I'm sure I don't know, and if she thinks I'm leaving it there, she's mad. I might ask my dad to look into shipping/postage and tell him I'll send him a cheque for the amount. It can't cost too much, surely?
I WANT MY SHINY GOLD GUITAR!
The Wearside Irish Festival started today at the the university and I'm apparently going to write an article on it. I've even borrowed the department's digital camera... But I don't know how much of it I'm going to get to- I'm not 'registered' for any panels or anything. Might inquire tomorrow and then go to the panel on Sunday that includes some stuff about Queen Maeve- should come in handy for the Sequel That Wouldn't Fuck off and Die a Horrible Fucking Nasty Death By a Trillion Little Cuts and a bottle of TCP. Or 'Inne agus Inniu' (there's an accent on the e, btw) as it is now known!
Don't think I have anything more interesting to say... except that Kate Adie apparently came into the Journalism classroom earlier but I didn't notice because I was too busy cutting pictures of John Lennon out of a magazine. A couple of the girls in the class apparently ran after her to try and get an interview or something, but I remained blissfully unaware, selecting pictures to go on my new folder. I am a girl with my priorities sorted, I think you'll agree.
Oh- after it was used in Never Mind the Buzzcocks the other week, I've downloaded 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia' by the Charlie Daniels Band. I never quite realised how bloody catchily evil country-rock can be.
1. I don't think I told my dad how much I spent on my beautiful new guitar and so my mum probably thought I'd blown a grand on one or something. Such a thing would not be entirely out of the question from someone as barmy as me.
2. From her point of view it was totally out of the blue except that I've been saying for a while now that I intended to be a rock star.
I hate the way my mum makes me well angry with her sometimes, the way she can make me swear bloody murder about her and is then really nice to me and makes me feel bad for being disloyal. Is this a common Mum trait or just my bad luck? She uttered her famous 'it's your money' line when I tried to tell her how much it was, which makes me think perhaps she just needed some time to think on it, or she needed to hear my side via the email. I don't know- I stopped trying to work her out a long bloody time ago.
She has, however, said that she will not send it up to me because it will cost a fortune. Not being totally stupid, I didn't disagree with her, but I might at some point ask my dad to make discreet enquiries as to shipping costs- I don't go home until 14th November, and even then I'm coming home on the plane, so how I'm supposed to get it on the plane, off the plane and on the Metro, I'm sure I don't know, and if she thinks I'm leaving it there, she's mad. I might ask my dad to look into shipping/postage and tell him I'll send him a cheque for the amount. It can't cost too much, surely?
The Wearside Irish Festival started today at the the university and I'm apparently going to write an article on it. I've even borrowed the department's digital camera... But I don't know how much of it I'm going to get to- I'm not 'registered' for any panels or anything. Might inquire tomorrow and then go to the panel on Sunday that includes some stuff about Queen Maeve- should come in handy for the Sequel That Wouldn't Fuck off and Die a Horrible Fucking Nasty Death By a Trillion Little Cuts and a bottle of TCP. Or 'Inne agus Inniu' (there's an accent on the e, btw) as it is now known!
Don't think I have anything more interesting to say... except that Kate Adie apparently came into the Journalism classroom earlier but I didn't notice because I was too busy cutting pictures of John Lennon out of a magazine. A couple of the girls in the class apparently ran after her to try and get an interview or something, but I remained blissfully unaware, selecting pictures to go on my new folder. I am a girl with my priorities sorted, I think you'll agree.
Oh- after it was used in Never Mind the Buzzcocks the other week, I've downloaded 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia' by the Charlie Daniels Band. I never quite realised how bloody catchily evil country-rock can be.
