To succeed in life:

Halloween is coming up in the next coupe of days, and I'm still undecided as to what I should go as ; something fun I think. And nothing with wings or fire. There was a bloke a couple of years ago who thought he would go as a dragon and spend the day collecting things from the one of the Reserves. Long story short, he had a good costume. A REALLY good costume and one of the dragons thought he looked like a suotiable mate.

Bet you didn't know that a dragon scorned is a dragon scortched?

I think I have a pair of heels under the bed somewhere - my only pair - might be nice to pull them on and pretend to be a girl. Or a bloke, I'd look pretty good in a nice set of dress robes. I wonder if Ron would let me borrow his?

What are you all going as?

[Private to Fred Weasley]

We need to talk.

The wards will be open tonight at 7.

I'm going to be sitting in the Leaky tonight getting so drunk until I can't see straight, let alone stand. Company is appreciated, but don't expect conversation.

Naked gymnastics are all well and good, but there comes a time when even doing starjumps in the buff just isn't going to cut it. I have reached this time.

(Now isn't that a fascinating image for you all to have?)

I have a pile of unwanted books at home, old essays and scribblings of years of not really paying attention to lectures and they are free.

If you want them, they are yours. No charge. If you can't get your education at the school, then even better.  Reply here for more details.


This is my stand

[Hexed Against Death Eaters and their Supporters]

Things I have pondered whilst painting my toenails this afternoon:

1) Is there a dating service for Death-Eaters? And if so, what does the application look like? Surely they can't all go for 'Tall, dark robed and ugly'? Could you imagina a speed-dating event with them crowded round the table?

2) How badly do you think they sweat underneath those robes? Theres absoloutly no point in attempting to be all sneaky and evil if people can smell you coming a mile away.

Maybe theres something in that.

3) It is completly impossible to apply toenail polish in different colours without smudging it.

4) If anyone can guess what colour my toes are painted, you will win a prize. Spinnet, you're excluded from this offer.

5) I've run out of favourite league colours and have been reduced to stripes on the last three. Oh well, at least my toes look rainbowy. Not sure about the Chudley orange though. I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue.

( [Private] )

[Private to Hestia]

I was wondering if we could meet for coffee this week? I have something to ask you but I don't think its entirely right to have the conversation over these journals.

[Public]

Too many of my entries seem to be about food. Perhaps I should take up running or extreme ironing? I've always wondered what it would be like to clean things ontop of a mountain. Its right up there on my to do list after 'eating dinner at Fred & George's'.

Sorry guys. I like my skin non fluffy.

Second day hang-overs are no fun.


Bleurgh, just had to unstick my tongue from my mouth.  Water.  Hangover potion.  Sleep.


Shite, these aren't my knickers,




.......What the hell did I get up to the other night?


Also, please send help. Moving hurts. Head is owwy.








I'm never touching a drop of alcohol as long as I live. Well, till next time.

This seems as handy a place as any to set out my to-do list:

1) Register
1)  Wash socks.
2)  Haircut - would be nice to see through it once in a while, although I've become fond of the fuzzy animal on my head.
3) Get laid. Shut up Bell, not everythings about sex although it would be nice to remember exactly what sex is like
4) Eat my body weight in banana pancakes with ice cream.
5)  Stock up on Honeydukes, fudge and ever-lasting gobstoppers.
6) Attempt to eat vegetables.
7) Tell Big Bertha I love her.
8) Social life. Look it up in the dictionary.
9) Stick two fingers up at the Ministry as I walk past
10) I don't have a tenth, but I like even numbers.

I'm bored.

And strangely, in the mood for donning some going out clothes and dancing till I can't see straight.

Who's with me?

I read the newspapers this morning - I'd been stockpiling them to be used for wiping arses with and lo and behold! There have been developments of the Interesting Kind.

First of all, Zombies. Only I'm not sure what the PC word for Zombies would be - Breathingly challenged? And then I read I'm supposed to go in and register for a card proclaiming my blood status for the world.

Can't.

See, its not all about the whole being 'muggleborn' thats the issue - its the simple practicalities of the idea. Where am I going to put this Important piece of paper? My pockets are filled with the following:



So you see, Mr Ministry, I don't have room for a card. However, you are free to follow me around ringing a bell and shouting 'unclean! unclean!',

Every part of my body hopes that it isn't true - that somehow the world has made a mistake and yet, with the latest offering by the Daily Prophet and Gringotts...

If you can't trust the Goblins to know whats going on, then who?

I'm worried, I'll freely admit that. I just feel so out of the loop up here. And yet...

I'm scared.