Laughter, suffocation and crap hot chocolate.
These are the three things I have faced this week. That and the video call I had with my Dad just a few hours ago. The phone call being the motivator for this post.
But before I delve into that how about I tell you about my week. Photography week and we were given a Pentax K1000 camera which prints in black and white and when you take a photo you cannot see what you've took. Wanting it to link with my borders project in which I'm changing how beauty is seen in the media by capturing ugly. Ugly is the new beautiful. Anyway, I thought cling film around someone's face and change there face using that, Sineade my good friend did it for art and the pictures were brill. So I thought I would get Kylie to do it, I explained it to her but she just blanked me, basically telling me that I was on my own. So I locked myself in the bathroom and began to wrap cling film round my face and taking photos. Only that at one point I forgot to allow myself to breath but I needed the photo. This leads me to laughter. I was in fits of laughter during the developing of the photos in the dark room. As the photos developed me and Scarlett saw them and just began to laugh, like pissing ourselves because of how ridiculous the photos were. You can actually see me suffocating, its creepy but my face just spells, "I'm fucking done with this shit."
Crap hot chocolate, I went to maccies and wanted a xmas cup so got a hot chocolate only when I drank it, it tasted like piss, it was probably the worst thing I've ever tasted. So I left and drank it quietly only when I couldn't take it anymore I threw it away, keeping the cup. I know I should of complained but I couldn't be bothered. That and I'm social awkward.
Now John's phone call. My Dad has been recovering from a knee op and living in South Yorkshire which is flooding at the moment I thought I'd ask how things were going. First thing he says to me, "Amanda's got the shits." After talking about shits and other things such as village gossip and how "Stainforth will never flood!" we finally came to the wheelbarrow. Dad had been asked to make a cuppa so he took me with him while he was making them, he then told me this: "you'll never guess what pheebs, someone's stolen my wheelbarrow."
"What do you mean someone's stolen it, your side gate is always locked."
"Yeah well the bastards have climbed over the back fence" he's fuming now, his face grew red, his nostrils began to flare and I began to laugh.
"So let me get this right someone has stolen your wheelbarrow but not the football nets?"
"Yes I don't understand, never had a wheelbarrow before, I bought that, went skint for it and some dickhead has stolen it." He pours the hot water into the kettle and takes the cuppa into the living room and hands them out. He finally sits down next to Amanda.
"Just been telling Phoebe about the wheelbarrow." He says shaking his head.
"I know we heard you from the kitchen, its only a wheelbarrow John."
"But its not just a wheelbarrow, It was mine. I've never owned one before."
"Awe your really upset about it ain't you." She says trying to hide the smile.
"Yeah well, once I go back to work I'll be carrying a stick in my van and when I see the bastard down the street with my wheelbarrow I'm gonna beat the shit out of them." He raises his eyebrows, "I have my suspects Phoebe, I have my suspects." At this point I just can't help but laugh at how stupid this whole affair has been.
Just to make it clear my dad isn't a violent man, nor does he go round the streets beating up people. My dad would never do that, trust me. But his threats are funny and harmless.
So that was my week in a small 4 min nutshell. A weird week to say the least but an eventful one. Also if you have any leads on John's wheelbarrow please ring the following number, it is green, from Steve's D.I.Y and can carry a 11st nineteen year old in it. Don't ask how I know that I just know.
After all its just another week in the life of the Yorkshire Bookworm,
Till next time,