I go back to school tomorrow, so I might as well count the votes.

So we have:

One vote for the backpack

One vote for the sparkly (or silvery, or pretty) bag

Two votes for Alternative Schemes,which come under the "or whatever" in C.

So, I need an alternative scheme.

I think I'll just wear whichever bag I feel like wearing. Which means my satchel can be included in the scheme. Hurrah.

But not too interesting. Sorry.

Let's make up for the boredom:

Everyone read "Breakfast of Champions" by Kurt Vonnegut, and that should de-bore you.

Today I have real reason to blog. Yay!

Or not so yay, because the reason I have to blog is that for some time today I was, officially, a Missing Person.

Don't worry. I was in Willesden Library laughing at a book by Iain Banks about a family that runs a company that makes a game (it was really good. I must join that libary...), thinking that my mother and brother were in the cinema watching Ratatouille.

I was meant to meet them, you see, at four, but because London's transport system, to be crude, sucks, I was ten minutes late. And, you see, my brother got scared (probably about twenty minutes in, so ten minutes after I arrived) and they went home.

They were awfully worried when home was empty.

I walked home a while later, but by that time my mother'd already called the police.

So that was an interesting experience.

Secondly:

I want all you people reading this to help me make a decision. It's not a difficult one, or an important one, but it's one I think you should make.

Yesterday, I found a backpack in my room. It's ridiculously comfortable, practical, and well sized. It is, however, not dreadfully pretty.

My other bag is quite the reverse. It is beautiful: a sliver shoulder bag covered in sequins. It, however, is a little too small in all dimensions, and is fairly uncomfortable when it's heavy.

The problem is, which do I wear to school? I give you three choices, my readers:

A- The Backpack!
B - The Silvery Thing!
C - Alternate Them! Or wear the backpack only when necessary! Or whatever!

You may vote anonymously, and because it's so ridiculous a question, you can have as many votes as you want. But please, do vote.

If you want to.

Hullo.

Yesterday, they were filming outside the school. This would be almost entirely unworthy of mention, if the person that was being filmed hadn't been a man on a bike (with stabilizers) dressed in a neon yellow skin-tight suit, and if he hadn't looked at me. Which he was, and which he did. Admittedly, I was screaming, as Saamia said, like a fangirl, and he probably isn't so used to shrieking teenage fans, but even so. He looked right at me!

Yesterday was also debate club, which went well: I got to argue that pornography and the mindset it helps to create mean that women have not yet achieved equality. It's true, you know.

Of course, because this is debate club, (this blog site calls italics "emphais"...), when I was walking home with (deep breath) Alice and kidwhocallsmelibarykid and Elieza, we bumped into Pritesh and Gignesh repeatedly, and of course, had to turn a sensible debate into an almost-fight, standing in the middle of the road and screaming. Wonderful, quite wonderful.

Hey blogreaders (one word).

Quite a good weekend this time. Friday was Amber's birthday party (Birthday Happy, Amber!), which I went to dressed as Patrick Wolf, who looks like this:

I, at the party, looked like this: (Photo and ukulele belong to Amber).

So, yeah.

I was in Brighton yesterday and today, which was okay.

Joel's a gamer, wich means I finally got to play Grand Theft Auto San Andreas. It's shit, by the way; you just steal a million and ten cars, run over people and run away from the police. It doesn't so much glamorise murder as make it uttery tedious.

I also managed to get a high score on Singstar singing Nirvana (which suprised me because I can't sing) with Rudy, who is, if you remember, nine, and I played a (rather violent) game that I seemed to be brilliant at, if only because Joel couldn't figure out how to open doors, and I could throw people out of windows.

As you may have guessed, Joel is one of those gamers who can't go forty-five seconds without shooting, punching, kicking, running over, or otherwise slaugtering some pixelised souls.

Anyway, since none of you are interesting in gaming, I'll move on to... um. Well. Actually, not much else happened this weekend. Um. Yeah.

Um.

So, seeyou all, or not, depending on who you are, o faithless reader.