So much to tell you ... was the name of a book they made us read in Year 9, which wasn't that great.

Eh, nothing force fed is ever great.

Anyway, let's start with today and rewind back to yesterday where I shall dance around the actual topic until I eventually get somewhere ... woohoo! Sounds like a plan.

Today was Philosophy Lecture (a.k.a, this is so boring that me hitting myself with blunt objects repeatedly is looking like damn fine entertainment) and my Psychology Tutorial, and then a Psychology experiment that I get 0.8 extra credit marks for ... yay.

Psych Tutorial was funny because they love messing with our minds in order to teach us psychological principles. Our tutor told us they had had our handwriting studied from our last test, and they used it to determine our personal characteristics, and we had to rate how accurate it was ...

I was all like "Wow, this is so me!" and most of our class found the descriptions highly accurate ... that is until our tutor let us see that everyone had the exact same statements written down about them...

Apparently humans take to believing positive, noncomittal, general statements without much question ... so we're not exactly a smart lil race but hey, at least it isn't just me ...

And the experiment was all testing of my language facilities, which went okay ... except where it took me a good long while to define a sentence. Oopsy.

Yesterday I spent a good hour looking for this piece of black lace I owned a couple of years ago ... yes, you can see I have a damn fine set of priorities ... I thought I almost found it when I found something about the right size wrapped in tissue paper ... that was until I unwrapped and Arg! found a long plait of my hair, which I cut off a few years ago (I used to have hair down to my thighs).

There is something incredibly scary about seeing your hair all perfect and lying there ... like you expect it to spring up at any moment and start strangling you ... scary. Not to mention the fact that it's looking shiny-er and prettier than your current hair.

Freaky hunh? And I'm not even at the freaky part of the entry yet ... oooh, wait, freaky part ... NOW:

I have a stalker ... a freaky, incredibly lame stalker which I normally wouldn't classify as a stalker but I feel violated, dagnabbit. I don't know if I told you, but a while ago I accidently gave too much information about myself to someone I talked to on the net, which allowed him to find my phone number and started the whole me ignoring him spiel because I have lines between the net and reality that I really do not like crossed.

Enormous lines, with "You, stop! Go back!" signs stuck up all over the place ... just so we're clear.

I did pretty well with the ignoring but I accidently sent some signals that I hadn't meant to send and were interpreted inaccurately. And the next thing I know, my mother is saying we have to have (quote) "a serious discussion" where she starts asking me why the mother of some guy I talked to on the internet was over at our house telling my mother that I and her son should go out ...

I mean my god! Can you say bombshell? Ew and no and grow up and go away! Who ... does that kind of thing?! So yes I'm feeling weak and violated like my house was raped.

Yes, I am now defying you to make actual sense out of my sentences.

But anyway, parts of it I find hysterically funny just because of their overall lameness. Like the fact that all of this occurred soon after me tsking Vyv for not saying no to guys ... it's like romantic karma came back to bite me on the butt.

And Shelley and I have devised some amusing plans to get rid of this whole issue, if needs be ... but right now I'm following through on plan A, the classic plan "let's ignore it and really hope it just goes away..."

Fingers crossed and I'll keep you posted ... and also watch out for plan B and a half ... or was it B? ... anyway, it's a good one.

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