Age.

I have been thinking lately about the ridiculous age guidelines set by the government. How we are allowed to raise a child at 16, care for an ACTUAL human being, but not drink/purchase alcohol legally? Doesn't that sound stupid? We can bring into the world and nurture a child and have sole responsibility for said child, but not vote and have a say about who runs our country or drive a car?



So are the government saying that at 16 I am more than responsible enough to handle the pain of labour, the looking after, feeding, providing for and emotional drain of a child? I can cope with all that but I can't handle making a sound judgement on who I want running the country? I can cope with ensuring the child gets the best education it can, I can inspire and ensure said child has hopes, dreams and aspirations, and do everything in my power to ensure that this child reaches it's ambitions, but I am not responsible enough to drive a car or conduct myself responsibly around alcohol?



That makes a whole lot of sense.





Love a slighty miffed,

Poppy

x x x

Well.

I feel all uninspired. There are lots of things I could blog about, funny anecdotes about how my 'hilarious' mother had friends over at the weekend and how they got drunk and started a competition to see who could juggle for the longest amount of time *sigh* whilst I entertained our Spanish 'lodger' with the only decent thing on TV in the next room, having absolutely no excuse for the insanity of the household in which I live. I could also tell you about my day today, which has been eventful, how Tesco's have decided they may have a vacancy for me (joys!), how Dunnelm Mills has just this second (as I was typing) called me and asked if I am available for an interview on Saturday (actual joy, I love their candles, and furniture actually), how I was asked out by a co-worker of my Mum's for a 'coffee' after his shift tomorrow (not joy, I don't want to date him, he's very funny and nice, and i thought we'd be great friends, obviously not) and how I had to explain to four quite angry/confused Spanish 14-15 year olds that as the bus routes have changed, they would have to walk an extra two minutes to catch the bus home. Their reaction was a moody "Thanks much." Even though I had got up at 6 to make sure I had them there in time for college, so their gratitude was overwhelming, quite obviously.
I could tell you about how I got a phone call that made me kind of reflect and cry a bit. But I am glad I got that phone call, concerning something I have been wanting to fix, but haven't known how. I hope very much that it can be fixed now. I know the person who phoned me reads my blogs, and I very much hope that person is reading this one, and knows that you kind of made my day. I very much want to fix this.
Well. That was meant to be a brief update. Haha, but it's not so brief, so i'll take this opportunity to stop typing and rambling and go and do something productive.

much love from a very surreal and dazed feeling,
Poppy
x x x

ps. also reading a very good book. called the Memory Keeper's Daughter. it's about a doctor who when delivering his wife's twins, discovers one of them had Down's Syndrome and tells his wife that the baby has died, when he actually send her away with a nurse. It's very good.

Blossom.

you gain something with every risk you take.

this shall be a rule i will apply to my life as of now.

x

ps. this is not MY arm, or tattoo.

Who's Baby?

Haha. The joys of a seven year old sister.


Me: ooooh, she's pregnant! Who's baby is it? (watching Eastenders, haven't watched in awhile)
Rosie: Er, it's her's. Stupid. (muttered under breath)

:L


x

Old & Senile.

i saw this and it reminded me that for the next week i shall be spending all my time with my relatives.
half of which deserved to be sectioned.


One of these relatives is my Great Uncle who everyone calls "Uncle Diz" or "Dizzy". And no one knows where this originated from, as his real name is Harry.
One of Uncle Diz's many hobbies is chasing any relative he can find around with his false teeth. He even chased my Mum on holiday once, false teeth in his hands.
It's all very quaint.
Wish me luck.
I'll be needing it, luck . . and a bone or something for Uncle Diz . . .

x



EDIT: actually his name is Henry? wtf. the over-use of ridiculous nicknames has some serious long term affects.. i wonder if even he remembers his name.