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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen</id>
  <title>Beacuse it won't bloom into a rose right away...</title>
  <subtitle>The left hand on the edge of a blade, the right in the mirror...</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Hahen</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2006-11-05T22:32:41Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="10660376" username="hahen" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:2779</id>
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    <title>hahen @ 2006-11-05T22:32:00</title>
    <published>2006-11-05T22:32:41Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-05T22:32:41Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Present time – I remember now why I made this journal. Nothing seriously bad has happened really, so I’ve not updated in a while. But then something did so…&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;If things really become a problem I’ll post this on my regular journal by way of explanation to my friends. However, I don’t really want people I know and see every day to know at the moment. I don’t want to seem melodramatic or anything.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;05/11/06&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; – 01:06pm&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I must look truly hideous right now but I don’t really care.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Mum’s left. She grabbed her bag and her keys and left and I’m scared because she’d had a lot to drink tonight and I just don’t want her to hurt anyone.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;We had Catherine and David over and we did fireworks and everything was fun and nice and then there were just so many bottles of wine and she started making assumptions, many regarding me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I didn’t insinuate she had had too much. When we moved onto the third bottle I said she already had wine in her glass: finish it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;This got twisted into her having had too much to drink. She screamed at us when Catherine and David left and Dad yelled back and I sat in the corner for as long as I could but for most of the evening I had been trying to not grab the edges of her face and pull really hard until everything came off but I didn’t because that would not be a good thing so I waited until I couldn’t bear in anymore.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I’ve been crying half an hour straight, I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop because if I do stop I’ll have to think and I don’t want to because it scares me so badly.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I don’t’ even know where Dad is. I don’t know if he tried to follow her, and Matt isn’t here and there’s no one I can talk to and I’m so scared and I don’t’ want to go out of my room because I’m scared. And I want to scream but I can’t I’m just stuck with crying and twisting my face really strangely…&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I really wish she wouldn’t drink so much but right now all I want is for her to come home safe that’s all.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;HALF AN HOUR LATER&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Matt came back and gave me hugs and I’ve calmed down a little, if not by much. You can tell I’m a bit highly-strung because of how fast I’m typing this. Seriously. Like whoa.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;So armed with water, tissues and loud music (because Matt and Dad are watching a film downstairs I’d really rather not watch and I’d rather be alone anyways) I’m going to try to bump up my NaNo word count.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;In the meantime I’m still debating whether or not to post this. It depends, really, on how things go in the next few days. We’ll see, I guess.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I’m still a bit liable to burst into tears at anytime.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;FIFTY MINUTES LATER (AFTER THE FIRST HALF-HOUR)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;There was noise on the stairs; I can’t decide if it was Matt or Dad or her, but I don’t want to talk to her right now. I don’t even want&amp;nbsp;to see her face.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Nano wordcount is up to 1400.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;It wasn’t her, it was Dad.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Want to go on the internet, but can’t, just in case there’s a call.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I wonder who she went to.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;TEN MINUTES&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Realise I don’t actually like having people around me when I’m having a moment. Althogh I feel horrible and desperate and sad, I need to get it out alone. Being around people makes me feel like I have to calm down, for their sake, to make them feel like they’re doing something for me. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Doesn’t help, really.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I need to get some shoes for Titania. We have a shoot on Monday.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="Extract from Doctor Faustus... such a cool way to die :p"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;The students lay neere unto the hall wherein Doctor Faustus lay, and they heard a mighty noyse and hissing, as if the hall had beene&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;full of snakes and adders.&amp;nbsp;With that, the hall-doore flew open,&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;wherein Doctor Faustus was, that he began to cry for helpe,&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;saying, Murther, murther! but it came forth with halfe a voyce,&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;hollowly:&amp;nbsp;shortly after, they heard him no more.&amp;nbsp;But when it was&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;day, the students, that had taken no rest that night, arose and&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;went into the hall, in the which they left Doctor Faustus; where&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;notwithstanding they found not Faustus, but all the hall lay&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;sprinkled with blood, his braines cleaving to the wall, for the&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;devill had beaten him from one wall against another; in one corner&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;lay his eyes, in another his teeth; a pittifull and fearefull&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;sight to behold.&amp;nbsp;Then began the students to waile and weepe for&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;him, and sought for his body in many places.&amp;nbsp;Lastly, they came&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;into the yard, where they found his body lying on the horse-dung,&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;most monstrously torne and fearefull to behold, for his head and&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;all his joynts were dashed in peeces.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;15:35&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Slept until about 12, but didn’t budge from my bed til now. Someone came up and had a shower about half two. I went down to talk to Dad but she was in the front room so – huh, no chance.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I don’t know if I’m angry with her or not. I just don’t want to talk to her right now, because I really don’t think I can.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Anyway, I have the cat for company.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:2409</id>
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    <title>hahen @ 2006-08-12T17:48:00</title>
    <published>2006-08-12T16:54:15Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-12T16:54:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;-_- News.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; TEXT-INDENT: -18pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;1)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;span style="FONT: 7pt &amp;#39;Times New Roman&amp;#39;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;David has the more severe form of MND. About two years, at a push.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; TEXT-INDENT: -18pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;2)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;span style="FONT: 7pt &amp;#39;Times New Roman&amp;#39;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Sinead is pregnant.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; TEXT-INDENT: -18pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;3)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;span style="FONT: 7pt &amp;#39;Times New Roman&amp;#39;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;No news yet on Mike.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; TEXT-INDENT: -18pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;4)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;span style="FONT: 7pt &amp;#39;Times New Roman&amp;#39;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I think that’s about it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;It’s not nice when you see people, and see less and less of them every time you visit. When they seem to… I don’t know, waste away between visits, even if those visits aren’t that far apart?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Yeah, I’m babbling on now, but that’s how it is at the moment. In fact, I’m lying, that’s how it’s been for a while.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;You know, it amuses me how much I’ve started leaving out of my other live journal. I tend to leave a lot out of my own journals too. I’ve just cut out a bunch of pages and decided to start again. Shame life’s not so easy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;*head bash* Gah.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;We’re going to visit the Saudons tonight – don’t know when we’re next going up to Leeds, but it’s not as if we’re going to see Sinead anyway. Oh yes I do – we’ll be going up in a couple of weeks to get the key for the caravan.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I’m going to look into language courses at King Edwards’ too. Japanese! *victory dance* And something else. Probably modern Greek.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;And I have to start looking at universities. Damn it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:2142</id>
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    <title>Gargh.</title>
    <published>2006-08-04T01:36:09Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-04T01:36:09Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Deviant art can't decide whether or not it's being maintained. Which is a shame cos i wanted to post something O_O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*moments later* No longer being maintained, but all the menus are wonky.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*a bit more later* Wonky menus aside, I'm still trying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*connection times out* 'Blaaahst'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*is eaten by lions* Double 'Blaahst'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*DA crashes after she's written a HUGE commentary on the pic* FSKN...&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;*uploading...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*uploading...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Whoooo! Half an hour after starting this entry, I FINALLY get it uploaded.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/37395472/"&gt;And I bet it's a disappointment.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Not that anyone's going to look anyway.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:2027</id>
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    <title>hahen @ 2006-07-27T00:03:00</title>
    <published>2006-07-26T23:05:54Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-26T23:05:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;And now I shall away to &lt;span class='ljuser  ljuser-name_othela' lj:user='othela' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://othela.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://othela.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;othela&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:p Farewell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(whoo, updating spree. Kind of)&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:1679</id>
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    <title>I am angry, deal with it.</title>
    <published>2006-07-26T22:56:02Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-26T22:56:02Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Get the snitch!</lj:music>
    <content type="html">So David had his final two tests yesterday and has a diagnosis. Mike ALSO went to hospital yesterday with, what was assumed to be, a hip injury of some kind (Obviously Ian was beside himself with worry, plus angry that she'd not&amp;nbsp;chosen to do anything about it before.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease, and Mike with bone cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*bangs head* I mean, WHAT THE HELL IS IT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Fucking fucked up' is what it is, in mine and Yang's words...&amp;nbsp;although most people are saying that it's 'such a shame' - I hate it when people do that. Oh dear. Never mind. Let's have another beer and forget about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh* Ruth and Josh saw Ian when they went up - the guy was distraught. IAN.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know Catherine would put a brave face on it, but it's... just gotta be killing her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah, sorry. I'm just going to keep saying the same things over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'O spite! O hell!'</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:1514</id>
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    <title>Huh. It's raining and dark already.</title>
    <published>2006-07-22T16:47:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-22T16:47:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Or nearly. And we're supposed to be having people over for a barbequeue (A word I've never been able to spell properly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we have rain. And blunder. And frightening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To the sane ones among us, that's thunder and lightning. Very very frightening MEE!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. So SOME PEOPLE got me thinking about university. *is scared for results day* - because I have to get good results in order for Oxford to even ENTERTAIN the idea of accepting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need B-grades at the very least, and those need to be in the subjects I'm taking on next year. I've been trying to figure out what my grades will be, and since I pretty much aced my coursework tasks for English and Classics, and gave some half-decent answers in the exams, I suppose my grade stands at a C or so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Which leaves Philosophy and Music as HUGE-ASS grey areas because… well… gargh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;So I need to look into University options. Mum and Dad reckon I can risk one of my choices on Oxford. Hey, it’ll look good to the other universities, and even if they don’t accept me, there are still plenty of other good ones. It’s just a matter of finding them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;No really, it is. I have to list open days and stuff so I can actually go and visit them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant"&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Dad thinks Edinbugh’s website shows a lack of organisation and I should reconsider my choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Huh. I have plenty of time – until THE END OF FREAKIN’ SEPTEMBER because OXFORD HAS TO HAVE ITS APPLICATIONS IN EARLY AND SINCE I’M DOING IT THROUGH UCAS (which doesn’t seem to have me registered O_o I need to fix that) I HAVE TO HAVE EVERYTHING ELSE PICKED TOO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;*breathes out*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Now you may understand why I’ve made a separate journal. Because I don’t want people going ‘whoa, chill’ or ‘argh’ or ‘*gets straightjacket*’ – I’m freakin’ serious about this. This is my future and I don’t’ want to mess it up like some people have. I don’t want to be hopelessly searching for jobs a year from now because I KNOW with my pathetic grades I won’t be able to do anything about them (I’m not thinking about any brother in particular, really I’m not). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;And there’s pressure. Freakin’ pressure, damn it, because everyone says I ‘should’ get good grades, I ‘should’ go to a good university, and I ‘should’ be this, that and the other, and I want to live up to all that. I don’t want all the crap I’ve had to go through to be all for nothing. The bullies and the teachers leaving midway through a term, the head teachers being so… so damn patronising. Yes, we’ll do something about it. Our program will gradually eradicate any problems so when you send YOUR children to our school, we’ll be almost done ironing out the last few creases.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Ugh. I didn’t mean for this to turn into&amp;nbsp;a rant, but I needed to let it all go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;So what I have to do is simple:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Apply for Universities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Get prospectuses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Check out the courses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Go to some open days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Get my grades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Make the arrangements I need to improve those grades if I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 9pt"&gt;Be more organised and work my socks off this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks again&amp;nbsp;to SOMEONE for making me want to get a Shaman King icon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear. Dad's trying to put up our gazebo outside. In the rain. Someone should really go help him.&lt;/span&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:1041</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hahen.livejournal.com/1041.html"/>
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    <title>Today's entry will be brought to you by a SHITload of links.</title>
    <published>2006-07-18T21:26:01Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-18T21:26:01Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Gentou Sanka - MUCC.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I was very amused when I saw this over my father’s shoulder yesterday&amp;nbsp;afternoon:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="6"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/0c87da6e.jpg"&gt;‘A Taste of Home in Rochester USA’&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Rochester… now, why is that familiar???&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;:p I’m also doing a massive &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela"&gt;upload&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;a&lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://othela.deviantart.com/"&gt;thon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; today… with pics from Milton Keynes (for the love of the Gods, Chloe, please don’t make The Joke.) and my parents twenty fifth… and some of the god-awful pictures I’ve churned out over the past few months (Although I have noticed to slight improvement…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acutally, since Photobucket is taking so long, it might just be the choice ones below...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my art...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36508981/"&gt;When&lt;/a&gt; I &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36508341/"&gt;copy&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36509830/"&gt;someone&lt;/a&gt; elses, it's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36515555/"&gt;When&lt;/a&gt; I &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36515414/"&gt;do&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36519522/"&gt;my&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36519439/"&gt;own&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36518066/"&gt;it's&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36509577/"&gt;bad&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36515281/"&gt;Although&lt;/a&gt; there are &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/32613550/"&gt;exceptions&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I’m going to post some more links, so get ready… Oh, and my comments may be quite long, too. It’s ten to one, don’t kill me ^__^ Course this won’t be uploaded til Tuesday, so it doesn’t really matter O_o)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="ljcut" text="LOOOADS of Photos. Well. A fair few."&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/MK2006004.jpg"&gt;Matt, Mum and I – Milton Keynes City centre.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Me in my favourite clothes… and hairstyle (I’m not a fan of my fringe at the moment, and I’m planning on growing it out. And my hair was newly dyed that day, too ^__^) That’s Matt and Mumsy, too. And an old man gicing us a dirty look in the background. There were chavs too. Even MK has chavs.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Mind you, my Dad was acting like a tourist, taking pics everywhere.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;This is Milton Keynes City Centre. And I am serious. I’m seriously in danger of belabouring my point (and Patricio would know…) but Milton Keynes was a ‘created’ town. And while I got the ‘homey’ feeling initially, it soon struck me – pretty hard – just how artificial the town was. There was nothing NATURAL, really. (As a Geography student, I know how towns ‘grow’ and so on… but there is no HISTORY in Milton Keynes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Now, it just so happens there was a HUGE Jacuzzi show in the main plaza that day. But last time I was there ^__^ It was Christmas. We were stopping by on our way to the Londoners’ (and that day I was wearing… a white shirt, a red cardigan with little ladybird buttons that Nana made me, and a red kilt/skirt) and there was a Thomas the Tank Engine show – replica trains, tracks, everything. And we all went on the trains – Matt, Alex (sort-of below) and I.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Don’t pull that face. I was about four years old. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Just to give you an idea of the size of the place, there were at least SIX more plazas of about that size, not counting the places where the corridors intersect. There is also and outside section and a… &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/MK2006008.jpg"&gt;water feature&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;. Where people were camping, for some reason. The Centre extends across the main road, and each row of shops was about… well Sheffielders, take the distance from Debenhams to Argos, and you’re about right. And there were places where there were three or more end to end.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/MK2006005.jpg"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Me, Matt and Dad&lt;/u&gt;,&lt;/a&gt; and you’ll see that chavs over my Dad’s left hand (on my shoulder)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Look at the hair. You see, there’s a reason my Dad was mistaken for Bill Clinton everywhere in Malaysia.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;… and we’re in matching jeans.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;A couple more links from MK – &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/MK2006010.jpg"&gt;Alex’s Mum&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/u&gt;(cos he was away at Uni – and he’s only a day older than my brother!) – and &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/MK2006013.jpg"&gt;St Albians&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;… SPREAD YOUR ARMS, MATT!!! (kidding!)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;The 25&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;: &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/Malaysia2006001.jpg"&gt;Setting out.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Mum and Dad…. And the cat who couldn’t bear to be left out! (Can’t see Cat? See my Mum’s right hand? Look down)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/Malaysia2006004.jpg"&gt;Our table.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; We were HOODLUMS that night ^__^ from the far, FAR left, Chris (in red), Adele, Fern (Matt), Neave, and Andy-so-hitting-on-Ruth.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/Malaysia2006006.jpg"&gt;Peeps!!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Andy and Ruth again, Trev, Adam, and if you look in the bottom left corner, that’s Chloe’s hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I’m glad people were in &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v632/Othela/Malaysia2006007.jpg"&gt;high spirits!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Andy, Ruth, Patricio and Trev. I’m amused that every picture of Trev came out with the demon eyes of redness. That’s my grandad’s head in the background.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ther were going to be others but... Photobucket died O_o)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:876</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hahen.livejournal.com/876.html"/>
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    <title>*sigh*</title>
    <published>2006-07-16T22:15:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-16T22:15:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">David's really not well at all. Everyone's worried. He has two more tests, then we find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum and Dad think they're playing it down - that it's something really serious. And from what I feel, I agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, Dad has a producion team meeting... and he may get to find out the cast ahead of time. Whoo ^__^</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:543</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hahen.livejournal.com/543.html"/>
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    <title>*yawn*</title>
    <published>2006-07-14T12:51:08Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-14T12:51:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'd rant, but I can't be bothered. The outline is thus-wise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Ill&lt;br /&gt;2) Gotta go to a vocal session tonight.&lt;br /&gt;3) My mum won't let me&amp;nbsp;NOT do the warm ups, even though I can barely speak, let alone sing.&lt;br /&gt;4) I should have been born a seal. Or a monkey. Or something that can perform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news... my layout hurts my eyes. Well, not really. It's just weird. Everything's aligned differently - not wrongly, just... differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*thinks for anything she can add*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah. And I need to learn to write or draw or something. I've tried writing my ideas, MASSIVE writers block prevents me from liking anything other than my background, and I toyed with doing it as a manga instead and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd show you if I wasn't so ashamed. Think... think Rukia's bunny-pictures, only worse. SO much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get Matt to set up that DVD player so I can watch Bleach, now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:hahen:351</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hahen.livejournal.com/351.html"/>
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    <title>Hmm...</title>
    <published>2006-07-13T18:25:48Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-13T18:25:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My first entry in a new journal makes me want to say something profound. Sadly, I can't be profound without sounding like a whiny little kid... which is kind of what this journal is for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Back out now if you know what's good for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, whatever... this is my livejournal. Mine. Not 'Chi's' livejournal. If you don't know what that means, don't worry. Just me trying to distinguish myself from... myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you all think I'm schizophrenic, huh? ^_^ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not all doom and gloom. I just want to make sure everyone knows what they're in for, because in my last journal, I feel like I was holding back. A lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why all &lt;strike&gt;entries&lt;/strike&gt; ramblings from here on in will be filtered as friends only. I don't want to inflict my&amp;nbsp; weirdness on the general public, do I? So if you really feel you want to let yourself in for this, add me, and let me know about it (comment here!). It won't ALL be doom and gloom, promise! I'm just an incredibly weird person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say? College twisted me.</content>
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