I am finally done with the extra homework I got from the loss of the laptop, and therefore I can now declare that I’m back on top of things, and that feels like a huge relief. The last few days have been quite stressful. I’m in a stride in school, and I know where I’m at and where I’m going, and the extra work has been a huge bump in the road. But that’s past tense now.
It is Friday, and I can look forward to two days of freedom, and I don’t want to think about school at all. I just want to sink into some mindless, lazy activity for the duration. I’m quite tired, as you probably can tell. I’ve been lax with the blog too, and the updates (and responding to your comments!) haven’t been as frequent as it should.
I did pass four hundred posts a few days back. This is post number 403. I raise my mug of tea in celebration, and utter a little breathless yea here. You have to picture it in your mind how I tip my mug toward the screen and write this with one hand.
Even my regular little haters managed to “celebrate” this by sending me two comments that I have mercifully dragged out into the back garden and performed the black voodoo on. I put them in the rubbish bin. Their presence does raise a little question in my mind.
I don’t get why presumed adults waste their time commenting on a blog they obviously don’t like, written by a person of a class they don’t like, and then don’t stop when they notice that their little love-letters never get through.
I don’t want to overstate their importance, because they’re obviously not important. If you’re young, gay and open about that on the internet, you have to be prepared for all kinds of negative stuff.
Being called a ‘faggot’ in a comment field is obviously not something that ranks up there at the top of my list of upsetting things. I’ve been on the net since I was thirteen. I’m a hardened veteran by now. Hell, I used to live in the Youtube comment fields. Negative comments do not shatter me and does not make me cry for hours; not about the personal rejection of some anonymous twat.
Which brings me around to the fact that I’m continually amazed and thankful to those of you that have expressed interest in all this twaddle I’ve posted since the beginning. Particularly when I slack off and hibernate through my posts like I’ve done for the last few days.
Thank you. 🙂
Tomorrow Stephen is holding a party, and I’m bringing along Ben to it. Mark says he doesn’t want to go this time, and so he’ll be staying at home, which is why I’ve invited Ben. It’s going to be fun to see how Ben reacts to Stephen’s house.
Stephen has to tread a bit carefully though because he’s in trouble again. His grades are slipping, and his parents have found out, and they’re border-line livid. So, if he messes up more he might be locked into a little cellar room so that he can do nothing but study.
I just wish they’d stop pressing him to become an accountant. He is not interested in that. He’s not ever going to be the nine to five business type. It’s just not in him. He is just doing those courses to not have them nag constantly about things. If they let him go over to hospitality or something like that, he’d be much more interested and happy.
My parents are giving me a bit of a rough time too over the decision to stay in England over the holidays. Mum is trying to play the disappointed parent, and dad… Dad is trying to get mum to stop ringing him about convincing me to come home. This he does by ringing me to tell me to come home. Christ, they’re coming here to my birthday. That’s enough.