A Shoutout To The People Who Have Had To Live Alongside Me For All Of My Life

I would like to take this opportunity to write a blogpost about my long suffering parents. I have lived on this planet just long enough to thoroughly appreciate the people that have looked after me from birth. I truly love my parents and, although they no longer love each other, I'm like 80% sure they love me back. My parents have contrasting personalities but share the same main, important beliefs that have consequently made my childhood completely satisfactory. In fact, I would give it a solid 8.8/10.

First, I will start with my mum. Not for any particular reason. Just because. My mum is a very complex and kind woman. I won't try explaining why I love her because when you truly love someone the feelings cannot be put into words. I will simply highlight a few of her qualities. She has the strongest sense of right and wrong I have ever known a person to have and consequently, she is a passionate person. She is a I-Will-Get-My-Daughter-Into-A-Grammar-School-Even-If-It-Kills-Me kind of person. I know she loves me but she also loves and cares about my health, education, pillow quality, lack of a sturdy winter boot etc. She works hard and plays hard. She is VERY INTELLIGENT. I don't just mean she's read Auden's collective works (she has) type of intelligent but she has an emotional intelligence not many others possess. She is detached maternal. (I hereby coin the term "detached maternal"). What I mean by that is she leads me to believe that she does not wish to interfere with my life, a Laissez-Faire approach if you will, but surreptitiously buys me my favourite type of biscuit and hugs and kisses me on a regular basis. SLY. I believe this is an excellent style of parenting. I THINK that I have freedom BUT SECRETLY I DON'T! Genius! My mum has got it nailed. Mum, I will always be your Moose. ((At a young age I went through a stage where I was obsessed with mooses.))

Now on to my father. Dad. "El Padre" as I affectionately call him. My dad is great. There is no-one in this world wittier than my dad. No-one in this world with a wider repartee than my dad. No-one in this world with such quiet genius as. my. dad. To say my dad is funny would be a huge, unforgivable, understatement. His comedic ability is so vast and varied I would happily say he is my comedy hero. The other day I was thinking outloud and happened to say: "Hmmm you know The Edge from U2? I wonder if he has a first name?" and without a moments pause my dad, without even looking up from his dinner, said "Yeah, it's Cliff". If you don't find that hysterically funny then there is something fatally wrong with you. Or maybe you just had to be there... We laugh about everything together, we have the same music taste, we like the same films....You would be able to tell we were related instantaneously and that makes me feel really proud because if I'm half as funny as my dad when I'm his age I'll have a sitcom on BBC2 at 9pm on a Saturday night and it will be well into its 8th series. Dad, I will always be your Foss. ((He nicknamed me after a vicious mammal that lives in Madagascar- see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fossa_(animal).))

Personality-wise I'm a true 50/50 mix of my parents. And, in my mind, that can only be a good thing. 

nERD

Summer Scrapbook 2013!

From June 25th to September 4th I recorded my summer in scraps of paper, little drawings and detailed notes. I have one A4 page spare in case something exciting and/or dramatic happens in the next two days *fingers crossed*. 


Looking back over my summer, I can safely say it has been a success. I have had a handful of new experiences that I am grateful for. These include:

• Trying an omelette- No. Not nice. Never again.
• Going on a holiday organised (partly) by me- A roaring success. I'm so good at pretending I know how to read a train timetable!
•  Eating (thus including swallowing and digesting) a mussel- Surprisingly delicious. Four point five stars. 

.... Ok so those examples don't add up to the cRaZiEsT summer ever but I still had a good time. My friends and I had many shindigs. We have re-adopted the word "shindig" and we use it in reference to our own private style of party. These parties consist of eating doritos, chatting, drinking Fanta, playing a game my tall* friend has coined "Celebrities" and/or playing Cluedo. These shindigs are great. I suppose we use the word "shindig" ironically really because originally they were parties that involved loud music, dancing and alcohol consumption- none of that happens at our parties. This summer I have been to two classic shindigs that fit my description above, a murder mystery shindig and a bonfire shindig. All these events were jolly and filled with laughter. We can all drink but we choose not to intoxicate ourselves with poisons. Instead we roll around the carpeted homes of our nearest and dearest in fits of giggles. Our sides split at that hilarious anecdote about the crazy scottish lady our short, curly-haired companion* tells. SHINDIGS ARE THE WAY FORWARD. 

I think YOU should throw a shindig soon. You might like it. 

nERD

p.s. the pictures are some pages from my scrapbook....

** Names have been withheld