Everything and anything.

My school apparently had some form of a protest last Thursday, where a large group of yr 10 and 11's refused to go back to their lessons just because the new head teacher wanted them to follow the uniform more closely (basically, less Ugg boots and more wearing the school jumpers). This is ridiculous, mainly on the part of the yr 11s, as they'll be in 6th form in a few months, therefore, never having to wear the sodding uniform again. I don't really think of what they did as a 'protest' (even if that's what The Journal called it), I prefer to think of it as a group 'hissy fit'. I wasn't involved in this in anyway, me being the boring sod I am, and also in 6th form, just went along with doing my Art work, blissfully unaware. The ironic thing is that my sister heard about the whole protest thing before me, and sent me a text to make sure I was Ok. Obviously, with her being on the opposite side of Hexham, things got a little exaggerated. She said that she'd heard there was a riot at school. I replied saying that I had no idea about it, seeing as I'd spent the last three hours in Art, and obviously the talk hadn't yet reached me.

So, the passing for a 14 year old thing. Hmm. Well, about two weeks ago, when I had 'flu-like symptoms' from my IVs, I had to leave school early, as I felt, for lack of better words, like shit. Whilst sitting in the school office waiting for my Dad to pick me up, the secretary hands me the 'sign out' book for those who leave school early. Open on the 'yr 10' page. I said that I'm in yr 13. She looks disbelieving (Er, the fact that I was wearing jeans and not a uniform may have been a hint though) for a second then says she'll call the sixth form office, and I'm left to my hazy, headachy self for the next 30 minutes. I'll probably grow to love the whole looking younger than I am thing, although until I've actually got some ID, or I can be mistaken for an age I wont mind (think 27 year old mistaken for a 21 year old. I can live with that) I've got every right to get pissy.

Righto, onto my weight -joy(!)- is more erratic than a yo-yo in the 90's. When I had my PEG, but wasn't using it, I managed to gain enough weight to keep everyone happy and have the godforsaken thing taken out. Since then, my weight has dropped, and I can officially say I'm about the same weight I was last year. Not so great when I'm considered to be a growing lass (Haha, growing. I found some 6ft jeans in my wardrobe yesterday and when I showed my Dad, he said I could grow in to them. I laughed so much as I don't think I'm getting any taller, dammit.) Anyway, I digress. I need to get my weight back up. The first time it dropped since having my PEG out was cause of Cipro, and the fact that not only did it not really have much of a positive effect, it buggered off with my appetite at the most inconvenient time. That and the fact that I just can't be arsed to get up and eat more crumpets. Laziness is a main thing in my life at the moment. Or maybe its just lack of energy :S. I obviously need to pack in as much weight as possible, but unfortunately, my appetite hasn't really returned. That and the fact that the 'flu-like symptom' episode left me eating very little for the next 42 hours.

The only thing left to say is that my IVs finished on Monday, and had minimal effect thanks to the cold that my little sister passed on to me. Thanks sis. I'm still coughing, a fairly unproductive cough that leaves your head feeling that its been attacked with a meat cleaver and your throat red raw. Drinking tea and hot blackcurrant hasn't helped the way it used to. Whoever has a cold cure, I call dibs on first go.