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There's one easy way to tell if a session with Dianne was meaningful: I'll end up crying.
I try so fucking hard to stop myself, this time I was bending my fingers and squeezing my wrists - but as I said to her, if I start, I don't end up stopping.
I spoke to her a little bit about "5 to 15" - I recollected a few events. Those that I didn't think were majorly important, or that I don't think would have affected me that much in the future - but Dianne seemed to think they were useful information.
 
I got my first draft of the film studies coursework back today - Sarah said it's A-grade standard, but the fact I missed out a few chunks of information in places, it's only a C/B. So I'll be adding to it shortly - she's told me I ought to get an A overall for the coursework. I hope so. I want an A for film studies, seeing as how I managed to get one in media studies last year too.
 
I sat on the 2nd floor of the LRC in my break between the session with Dianne and my English lesson. I listened to Spieluhr on repeat for a while, until it started getting on my nerves - then swapped to Silverstein and Blind Guardian. I updated the blogs I'd left blank for Tuesday and Wednesday and had a mooch about on some randomers' blogs.
 
I've always hated English since I came to college - loved it before I came here, then it suddenly just got shit. I despise it even more now that Adam has been put into D block with me. He sits with Siobhan - he was sort of adjacent to me on the tables today, I was in a shit mood and he kept saying random shite to make me smile. I did smile at some of them, but I didn't feel smiley inside. I feel uncomfortable in that room as it is with all the arseholes in there, but it's gotten worse now Adam's there too. Sigh.
 
Hannah pissed me off too. I was simply asking Angela what it was we were supposed to be making notes on, and she goes: "We did the pragmatics yesterday... YOU KNOW, THE STUDY OF SOUND?"
I just gave her my psycho glare and growled: "I KNOW WHAT FUCKING PRAGMATICS ARE."
I'm surprised she didn't retaliate, she looked more surprised than offended at my response. Oh, I fucking hate her. She's always riles me because of her fucking ridiculous nasal-voice, but as soon as someone treats me like I lack intellect, they become hatred targets. Inconsiderate shit-sniffers!
 
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On the bus home, I was listening to Blind Guardian louder than I should have done - and this random old woman kept turning around and giving me weird looks. Fucking slag. You'd think sitting behind an aged person, they'd be too deaf to hear your music. I don't have it THAT loud!
It just sounds louder in small spaces, such as lifts... :)
 
I'm a proper arsehole in the bus station though - I was bounding off to catch up with the bus that was due to leave the bay - and there was this huddle of dirty chavs standing by the railings that just didn't want to move - so I just SHOULDERED one out of the way - the look she gave me was proper funny. I didn't even look at her, I just carried on, fueled by my full-blast Rammstein. :)
 
When I got in, I made myself some of those chicken & bacon motzarella wraps and ate them while I watched Spongebob Squarepants. Nickelodeon seriously couldn't time it better - it always seems to be on whenever I get in. I like watching cartoons after college, it re-fills my happy levels. My happy levels are usually always below centre, but they drop to negative figures when I'm at college. The shithole that it is.
Well, not the building or the tutors or even the lessons - it's the arseholes that are there.
 
I went upstairs, set up my Wii and I finished off Spyro: Enter The Dragonfly.
Good fucking riddance, that's one game I'm not re-playing in a hurry. Thankfully, it was only £3.50, so I didn't waste that much on it. It's not a TERRIBLE game, but compared to the other Spyro games, it just doesn't even compete. And they're on PS1 - this is a GC/PS2 game!
It's just the overall glitchiness that ruins it. All the disappearing floors, voice lags, control reversals, camera freezing and general jumping about makes it a chore. It's also WAY too easy. Having different breath attacks instead of power-up portals is NOT Spyro! The time limits on the power-ups is what makes it fun!
 
And the lack of the locate gems feature doesn't make it harder - it just makes it goddamn tedious. And WHY do you collect DRAGONFLIES? Not eggs, not baby dragons - ach.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks it's wank though - GameFAQs reviewers all only give it 2/10 and 3/10.
I've completed all of the PS1 Spyros at least twice each, because they have excellent replay value - but as per fucking usual, as soon as a mint PS1 series gets ported to PS2, it FAILS.
It happened with Crash, it happened with Parappa The Rapper - it was obviously going to happen to Spyro. :(
 
Tee hee, bad game rant is over. :D
 
 
So, with that pile of crap removed from my to-be-completed games wallet and put back into the box at the bottom of the stack, not to be played again in a hurry - I replaced it with Resident Evil.
Now is the time for me to complete the scenario with Chris. Seeing as how Chris is supposed to be hard mode, I'm very surprised at how easy it is. I'm not sure if it's got to do with the fact I already know my way around due to completing it with Jill - but when I played her scenario, I must have died a good 10 times. I'm at the guardhouse currently and I've not died once. The snake didn't even hurt me, and Chris only gets a shitty shotgun, Forest's bazooka just doesn't seem to be present.
 
I still shit myself when Lisa Trevor came in the outside hut - even though I knew she was coming - she scares the shit out of me. She's what makes the Resi 1 re-make so much scarier. That and all the graphical touch-ups, crimson heads, insane puzzles, extra rooms and the general darker overtone and detailed environments.
 
I should stop talking about games, otherwise I'll just end up turning my blog into a games review. :)

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In today's "coursework research and planning" lesson for Media Studies - I'd announced to Sarah I'd just about finished off the script for the Spieluhr music video - so I said I'd be working on the script for my film sequence for Film Studies. She didn't seem to mind - so I got around 1/3 of it written.
Last night I'd had a dream about it, which had given me a fair few ideas - involving a young Abigail scene. I'd originally planned to have a young Abigail bit in our trailer last year - but we hadn't been able to pull it off. This time though, I sent a message to my aunty on Facebook, asking if I could borrow her kids - and mam had asked on my behalf too - so whenever we're ready to film it, I have my little cousin Lauren to help out as young Abigail (it helps that she looks a little bit like me) and Nelly to play the role of a bloody Brandon Henry - if he doesn't mind being dragged backwards down a path, spreading blood everywhere of course. :)

I actually don't hate English now anywhere near as much as I used to.
The start of the course was so tedious - but I'm actually starting to realise all the work I did last year at AS has rendered the A2 so much easier. A lot of it is simply applying your common sense and flinging in some theorist names. And of course, Angela gets us to draw baby heads and gingerbread men - and everything is colour coded. Being a visual style learner (or so they told me), this apparently helps. :D

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Shelly had promised me that when I went into college to get this HPV cervical cancer jab - she'd come in with me and hold my hand.
We had to go there before 2 - and I waited for her IN PLAIN VIEW on the tables by the clock tower entrance. I waited until 1:30 before I gave up - I went in to get the needle by myself.

I was reasonably composed up until I was about a metre away from the door.
I couldn't stop myself crying for long. Shelly wasn't there to comfort me or to hold my hand like she said she would have been. The only comfort I had was from these dozy AS students who asked me like the stupidest question ever: "Are you scared?"

And then the fucking nurse who gave me the needle was a cunt and a half. She saw the cuts and scars on my arms and asked: "Do you have a cat or a dog who scratches your arms?"
I lied, taking the chance and said simply: "Yeah."
She looked at them again and said: "They're not a cat or a dog, are they?"
I shook my head and answered: "Nope."
She gave me this proper weird look and said: "Is there something you want to tell me?"
I glared at her and said straight: "No."

So naturally when I went up to Photography - dozy Shelly was there, she said she'd been looking for me - well clearly she hadn't been looking fucking hard enough.
I was all set to punch her for lying to me - but the needle had scared me into crying - and because it's so difficult to let myself cry for all the other reasons, I sort of used it as an excuse to cry about other things - so she was sort of lumbered with me soaking her hoodie for a while.

And that's the first needle of THREE.
For fuck's sake!

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This is the first day in a streak of numerous where I haven't actually felt like slitting my throat for every minute that passed by. Yes, I didn't feel as reasonable as I normally do - but I was better than I have been previously.

English was on for the first time this week. Angela was back, now with a traumatic tale to tell us all involving dogs and hospitals. She has a cast on her arm and it's in a sling. The cast is purple and it stands out a lot. :)

In my break before Photography, I ate a sausage sandwich and listsned to Rammstein on my iPod.
In Photography, Paul wasn't even in college, so we were sat around for ages doing shite all. I managed to freak Hayleigh out by showing her video stills from our many gory video projects - oh, and the trailer. :D
She's yet another person who thinks the vomit down Ash's front is real.
Mmm, yes - we stuck our fingers down her throat. :)

Shelly and I walked into town and she bought Canis Canem Edit from a charity shop. They were selling it for £1.99 - we'd seen it yesterday when we were hunting for music boxes.
I went to CEX and bought myself a new £25 baby. :)

He looked so cute when he was sat on the counter with all his wires and his controller - but the second I tried to carry him out of the shop, I was keeled over sideways under the immense weight of it!
I've decided to name him HUNK - for this very reason.



This is HUNK: my new Xbox. :D

(And there's the two games Shelly persuaded me to buy - Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of Time, and Fable.)
(Well, she persuaded me to buy games, I chose them myself. :P)

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Tonight, I've spent a few hours eating KFC, uploading CDs to Hunk's memory - and pouring out my heart to Ash over MSN. I felt I ought to tell her how shit I've been feeling recently.
I always had this inner hatred towards her for being so supportive to total randomers on DeviantArt - but I've realised she goes a little further when it's for me. She really was trying, bless her.
She was worried when I told her about Shelly and I were fighting - but I assured her we'll get through it. :/

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This depression lapse is really starting to piss me off.
Whatever I feel though, it's doubled, perhaps even tripled when I'm at college. Because when I'm at home, I don't stand the risk of being bullied or being judged - even the comments mam makes aren't as bad as the ones I'd get at college. Yes, my mam does have the power to make me want to instantly want to cut myself, but when I'm at college - I don't have my chance to slink off and do so. Even if I do carry around my staple remover or a blade with me, it's only a comfort - it's never really safe to use it in college. It's there for emergencies though, if I ever do need it that badly.

Media Studies kicked off the day by depressing me. Mondays are coursework "planning" and "researching" lessons. I've already researched my chosen topic. I know so much about Rammstein, having been a die-hard fan for 5 years and completing 3 educational projects on them beforehand. I've already planned my production. 3/4 of the script is written and all the location, camera and costume notes are saved. I still haven't discussed it fully with Ash... I am really scared of her response. I never like to share ideas with Ash. Even if she doesn't reject them - I always think she's resenting her agreement, either that or she's biting her tongue. Fair enough, Ash is virtually perfect - in every area that I'm not, anyway...

In my break, I ate a bag of cheddar and onion McCoys, a sausage bun and drank 3/4 of a bottle of water. I'd forgotten to bring my bottle out of the fridge, so I ended up buying them. Finally though, water is economically priced in college. Bottled water should be no more than 50p.

English was cancelled - and we were supposed to find slagface Sue to give us our work - but we couldn't find her. So after hanging about for a pointless 20 minutes and resenting talking to the rest of the arseholes who were waiting with me - except Sefeena of course, she's sound - I went back downstairs. I couldn't be arsed going in the LRC, so I ended up listening to Lisa and playing the odd few games of Solitaire.

I'd wanted to do something today, but I didn't end up doing it.
I wanted to write a letter, sort of - basically a confessional letter adressed to mainly Shelly, but would have areas relevent to maybe Ash and Adam. Basically outlining how I feel right now.
This depression lapse is the worst one I've had yet - but what's pissing me off the most is the fact I DON'T KNOW WHAT CAUSED IT...

When Shelly came, we weren't excactly close. She was holding my hand and trying to console me, but I refused to kiss her or cuddle up to her. She thought it was because it was her - but it wasn't. I wasn't in the mood to show affection full stop. I didn't care that we were in college - I'm starting to get over my sexuality. Well, I was never uncomfortable with it anyway. I wouldn't care if I groped Shelly's boobs and snogged her face off infront of a crowd of 50,000 - I just can't understand why people use the word "lesbian" as an insult.
I can understand them calling me "fat" as an insult, because being fat isn't exactly a good thing. It's a danger to your health - but being a lesbian isn't.

I ended up shouting at her in Photography because she fucked me off. She did her usual trick of treating me like I'm stupid. Reality check for her - I have three A* grades, she doesn't have any.
And what annoyed me the most was that it was over the most trivial of things - she didn't think I knew that the fact I was mashing the F5 button caused the page to reset.
WELL FUCKING NOR. I'D REALLY SIT THERE AND MASH A RANDOM BUTTON HOPING SOMETHING WOULD HAPPEN.

So she went to the other side of the room. Didn't bother me none, I had Lisa.
Paul came over - but I was deliberatley rude to him. When he started talking about my ideas, my responses were the usual, but my tone said differently.
I hate getting ideas now. The problem is - they're all fucking mint - but they're all going to be either wasted, or not used to their full potential - and the results will turn out shit.

I bought a new sketchbook - fucking beasty A3 one - and that was a cunt to carry back to the bus station.
I did about 3/4 of the first page - writing an epic introductory wankery paragraph.
(I seem to do a lot of things 3/4 today.)

Although now I'm home, I still feel depressed - but nowhere near as bad as I was all day.
The bruise from Tuesday has proper come up. It's huge. It's like 5 inches wide - and it's bright yellow. Mam made the comment: "well you have big calves, so it must be a big bruise" - well nor, I'd look a bit stupid being a size 18, 13-14 stone and having SMALL CALVES to compare to a rounded body. Stupid cow.