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This page is owned by ‹sketch~phantasmagoricalfailure›.

story please read. it's called diary of one colourful catastrophe

Chapter one: Introductions, improvisations, facts of my life and other diary stuff. June 22nd: My birthday, cold, lunchtime Well then, a diary. However so original and improvisational (is that even a word?). Well I guess I should write some stuff considering as it is my diary and all... So diary, today I received you as an improvised, last second gift for my 16th birthday. What kind of person keeps a diary anyway…oh well? Getting back to the point, you were a present from my bestie Hannah, also known as Boo (who actually forgot my birthday but is now refusing to admit it). I suppose I better tell you a bit about myself then. It is expected after all. Though it is a bit stupid reading this, knowing I’m acting like you (A BOOK) can actually hear me. I heard somewhere that apparently writing/ keeping a diary is supposed to be very cathartic FACTS ABOUT ME THE COLOURFUL CATASTROPHE: • I live in a small, cosy house in the middle of everyone and everything. • I’m 16 and surprised to have made it this far. • Dead clumsy, I already have a coffee stain on the front cover. • I have a rather large, loud and random family that somehow fits together and operates with only mild disasters • I am the eldest of 4 girls. I lord it over them at every time possible. • I am an anime art freak • I love writing, reading, listening to all kinds of music (‘cept country) and science and math (yes, I do actually like those subjects. I am good at them). Anyway, I will write when I can be bothered I guess. STAY TUNED FOR THE EPICNESS RAWWR ************************************* Chapter two: Weetbix, woe is me. I woke up as usual to the sounds of my family getting ready for another day. I could hear my dad leaving for work in the Ute, my mum yelling and multitasking, Ashlea getting back from her morning swimming session (it’s insane and way too early in my opinion) and my youngest sisters Brittany and Phoebe already up and fighting over the shower. Our house has one bathroom and one toilet. There are 5 girls and one guy, you do the math. Every morning is pretty much the same. Wake up early, go back to sleep, wake up late, bolt down breakfast (optional), get ready and go. Even though today was my birthday I didn’t think anything would change. I still had to go to school; my mum won’t let me have the day off, which is totally unfair. I get up slowly, savouring the last moments of being in my warm bed before facing the day. Stretching out I grabbed my glasses off my half of the bedside table I share with Ashlea. Once my glasses are in place and the world has become slightly more visible I troop out of my room to the kitchen, kicking on a pair of slippers as I go. I envision a delicious and hearty birthday breakfast as I make my way over to the cupboard. Breakfast: Phase one: Open cupboard and look inside. Ugh. Weetbix, All Bran and porridge, nothing even remotely delicious in sight. I pulled a face. It was still too early to face such disappointment. The coco pops, even the corn flakes that had been in there yesterday were gone. Growling lowly and grumbling threats to who I was sure was my dad I slammed the door shut . Breakfast: Phase two: If the cupboard is bare, open the fridge. I trudged the few paces to the left to grab onto the fridge door barely avoiding collision with my mum as she came past with a basket of washing piled high enough to obscure her face from view. ‘Morning mum,’ I mumbled to the moving pile of laundered clothes, peering in the general direction of her face, or were it was supposed to be. ‘Morning sweetie, and a happy birthday to you!’ she trilled as she dropped the basket onto the ironing board, which sagged under the sheer weight of the garments. Beaming she pulled me into a warm hug and said. ‘Look at you; you’re growing up on me.’ After a moment she pulled back and turned back to the morning ironing. ‘Thanks mum,’ I smiled back at her as I turned for the fridge and narrowly missed being bowled over by my youngest sister Phoebe as she ran past in only a towel. Unfortunately to my dismay I found out that the fridge happened to be lacking in the food department as well. Breakfast: Phase three: Re-open the cupboard Sighing at my pitiful selection I yanked the box of Weetbix from the shelf. What a great start to my day. Now I have school to look forward to (note the heavy sarcasm) unless of course some sort of miracle occurs and school is cancelled. I held out hope for a sign all throughout my morning school preparation ritual Colourful catastrophe’s guide to getting ready for school: 1. Dawdle and make breakfast last as long as possible. 2. Shower for a lengthy amount of time though a bath is usually better. 3. Change into uniform and do hair. 4. Put I-pod in and make bed, ignore outside world until it’s time to go.
 
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  ‹sketch~phantasmagoricalfailure› — Page created: 1 June 2010
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