Let's have a catch up...

Hello! How are you? Well? Lovely. Come sit down, have a cuppa and a flapjack. I made them myself and they're a bit burnt and crunchy so watch your teeth. I thought we'd have a catch up, you know, a chilled blog for once. How am I? Oh how nice of you to ask! WELL...

After a year of putting it off, I finally went for my blood test last Thursday. Can't remember whether I told you about my funky heart? Did I? Well I'm goddamn telling you anyway. I get palpitations every day. I'm almost used to them now so don't realise they're happening most of the time, apart from the bigguns where I'm like WOAH ALRIGHT LOVE I KNOW YOU'RE THERE, STAND DOWN SOLDIER, and I get a bit 'huhuhuhhuh' (that's me taking some big breaths) But yeah, it's a bit odd so mum dragged me to the doctors* (* I expressed my concern for my life and she booked an appointment thinking I was exaggerating. Tsk.) a year ago and he said I needed some tests, firstly, blood tests. "NOOOOOOOOO" I cried whilst sinking to the floor in a cowering mess, snotting over mum's foot (or summat) I hate blood tests. I don't mind the needle part, I can deal with that, it's the sucking blood out I don't like. UFMXEJHFUKGT. He took my blood pressure there and then, which was bad enough. I hate the squeezing! EWEWEWEW. It was really high, as per.
But basically with a combination of "Palpitations? What palpitations?" "No I haven't seen the pink sheet the doctor gave you (shredded it)" and "I'll hate you forever if you make me go. Srsly. I won't even get married in a church for you." I managed to delay the tests for a whole year. Alas, the time came last week when mum put me in the car, drove me to the doctors at 8am (tbh it probably helped that I was still waking up) and tried to find a parking space while I went in with the nurse BY MYSELF. Yeah that's right. Bravery medal over here please. Mum took so long in finding a parking space after she dropped me by the door that by the time she walked in I was walking back out with a grin on my face and plaster on my arm. It wasn't even that bad really, it didn't hurt and I didn't feel it as much as I thought I would. It just felt hot. And squeezy. *shuudder* But the nurse was WELSH (amazing) which made everything okay. I get the results on Thursday.

I'M GOING ON HOLIDAY WITH MY FRIENDS IN THE SUMMER! Can I get a HELLYEAH!? *tumbleweed* The 'rents didn't actually take a lot of persuading. The classic "BUT YOU DID WHEN YOU WERE 17!" came in very handy. They're gonna pay half of it, meaning I have to come up with about £300 plus spending money. Without a job that could become quite a challenge.

We haven't even booked it yet. God knows where we'll go.
Dad "So where you thinking of going?"
Louise "Somewhere close to home cos it's our first holiday, I dunno, like, Spain"
*cue parental laughter lasting a good 45 minutes*
We're thinking a Greek island, Spain was mum's idea. Pah.

I was ready for Prozac yesterday. For our Media coursework we have to create a 2 minute horror film trailer. We've done all the research, all the boring background shizz, storyboard, and half of the filming. Bang tidy. Ahead of the game. And I'm not being big headed (I am) but our story is ace and the filming we've done is class. So what's next? Uploading the footage onto the Macs of course, onto iMovie for editing. La la la. NO. Mr Mac didn't like our file format, wouldn't let us edit. Rude. So we tried editing on normal laptops but the audio kept going funny and freezing. HAHAHAHAHA. Oh dear. If we couldn't sort it out we'd have to re film. Giving up was on my next card. BUT NO. It's fixed and we edited some today and it's shcweeeeet.
While we're on the subject of coursework, our English is split into 2 parts. A journalism article and a dramatic monologue. Lovely jubbly. So I interviewed my nan last week, heart her, and decided today to do my dramatic monologue as someone with post natal depression. I love the feeling of knowing what you're doing, and knowing you're getting somewhere.

But the biggest thing happening in my life is happening this Thursday. I'm going to Auschwitz. Every year The Lessons From Auschwitz Project  takes 2 sixth formers from each school in a certain area (for me, Essex) to Poland to visit Auschwitz-Birkenau. The company rang my school and asked if I could go because of my Channel 4 win, which has to be one of the best things to come out of winning that competition. To be given the opportunity to visit one of the most significant places in the world, part of history? Please. I don't do History A Level, nor did I do it at GCSE, but you can't not know about Auschwitz. My grandparents are the ones most 'excited' about me going because they were part of World War II, so I guess you could say I'm going for them. It's only for the day, 5am start at Stansted, 9:30pm flight back from Krakow. That's one hell of a long day. One of my bezzies Kiera (she a teen writer for Skins dontchaknow) is going too so I'm glad we're doing it together. Apparently it changes you. A life changing experience. I'm ready.

BULLETIN ENDS. X (Tell me about your life! How are YOU? I want to know please.)