[You always forget, silly
Anyway, the point is, my mum reads my blog, and she read that one about my first day of school, and asked me why I hadn't mentioned an element of that story, and I was like "What?! I do not even remember this!"
So here I am, adding part of the story that I neglected to tell, due predominantly, I like to think, to the fact that I
a) was 5 years old
b) have not ever been retold this story
c) have a brain like a sieve
This is the previous from a little while ago post. Right here. HERE.
[Just briefly on this link. First, how hilarious is it that I'm referring you to one of my pages? How egotistical can you get?! This egotistical. Second, just in skimming through posts to find this one, I noticed about 5 typos. I'm going to start proofreading these. I do believe in
This is such a pathetic ending to a blog post that isn't even a legitimate blog post, because it's just adding something to a previous post BUT here goes.
Now, those among you who know me, or read this, or have seen other things of mine on the internet (which I'm not going to mention specifically, because people from work have started reading this, and I really don't feel like exposing THAT part of my on-line persona to them), will probably have picked up that I'm not what one would describe as cool, socially adjusted, popular, or any of those thingums.
Well, I may not be now, and I may not have been for 99.87% of my life, but that first day of school? That day I told you about?
Yeah. I came home on my first day with a birthday invitation. Hell yeah, bitches. I mean, it's beside the point that Brooke's mum knew there'd be a new girl starting that day and just made the gesture to be nice (it was) when no one knew anything about me. It still counts!
And apparently my brother was really upset*, because he didn't get invited to many parties, and I got an invitation on my first day.
Don't worry. Since then my coolness levels have rapidly (and I mean rapidly) decreased. To nil. Verging on negative.
This is the end of the bloggy. The struckout bits are typos that I correctly. I left them for laffs.
*Have I ever told you about the time my brother was upset when I was born? I was born a girl, and he didn't want a girl, he wanted a George. Not a boy. He wanted a George. I've been a constant disappointment since. But he did get this cool toy, which he called George. And still has. In his room. I'm just saying.