Dear Die-ary...

About once every 2 or 3 months, I go crazy. Well, crazier, because of my hair. I get, liek, this feeling that I should change my hair. I mean, I hardly look menacing with a bunch of curly locks. It hardly goes with the black coat, black trousers, black trainers, black nail polish, black worry beads, and pentagram ring. It's not right, is it? So I usually do something drastic to my hair, or at least, plan to.

Panic sparked last week, when I was invited to go camping as part of a birthday celebration. I couldn't refuse... Not that I wanted to! I mean, I had to plausible excuse. If I tried to find an excuse, the best I could come up with would be: "But my hair'd get frizzzzyyyyyy!" So whaddid I do? I hacked my hair to death with straighteners.

Wellllll, ok, my hair's fine. It was fine after the treatment, and all is back to normal now. But my parents were like, "NOOOOOOOOO not your lovely curls!" And gave a look that threatened they would never speak to me ever again if I straightened the mass of hair on me 'ead. But I did it anyway.

When I emerged with my 'new' hair (a lie, I'd been straightening my hair for a year about a year ago... if that makes sense), I had tied it up and clipped it up. Me Daddeh said to me, "You look like Amy Winehouse." Then he turned around and shyly admitted, "It looks nice on you."

So camping went OK. We were based by the beach, so we all went galavanting down to the beach as soon as the tent was pitched... and decided we looked like utter prats because we wielded spades, and we found ourselves on a pebble beach.

The biggest prat of all, of course, was myself. As mentioned above, I have a strict dress code. Trademark clothing, if you will. So, I looked like a right prat wearing heavy black clothing... on a beach. People looked at me as if to say, "What? Are you mad?" And I looked at them as if to say, "Yeah."

Anyway, I will try not to be egoistic and mention others, even if it is MY blog. *air of superiority* Those in the party was Sarah, Alice, myself (nooooooo, I was just a stalker), and birthday girl, Hannah. On the beach we tried to light a BBQ (I haven't got enough time to type 'barbeque'), but, it failed, after about 45 minutes of trying. So we returned to base, and tried with another BBQ we had (we had two). This failed. So Sarah and Hannah pleaded to a couple of fellow campers, who had a BBQ going, to offer some advice. So the one bloke gave us a fire starter. This worked... then it died.

So he gave us another. We decided not to take our chances, and cook straight from this flame. What an audience we got!! A couple of german campers came over and said how they admired, um, the way we were cooking. If you could call it cooking.

Many other events happened whilst camping. I was asleep for this event... I have no idea why. I just randomly dropped off, at night, of course. Ahem well, while everyone else was talking, apparently, a light flashed onto the tent... and suddenly, a voice screamed, "CLEAVERRRRRRR!!" over and over again. We think they were calling a dog. I wish I was awake. But at the time I was clinging tightly to my Iznogoud doll. Don't even ask.

Also, I'd been reading The colour of magic and The light fantastic by T.Pratchett... something to do. I like Rincewind. I was utterly horrified when I learnt he wasn't planning on making any more books with Rincewind starring. So I say to him: Make more books with Rincewind in. Or else. I live close by, you know... (this is true. My little claim to fame. Sad, isn't it?)

And whilst in civilisation (i.e. at home) I've been playing the Discworld game. This blog's title is a quote from it that made me laugh for some reason.

All reflections and death threats done and I need to go to bed now.