owen is clearly competent.

private to Roland.
I meant to answer your question, but I got preoccupied. You can give it to Ellyn though. Maybe later I'll get a chance with it again, and actually have an idea of what to do with it.
end.

private to self.
Things that need doing, part two.

• Get Bryony back. Which depends on Naoko's half of things, really. Two months later and I'm still fucking brassed off about it, but that's the whole point about revenge being a dish best served cold, isn't it? It doesn't matter how long you wait after the offending incident.


• Make sure I'm fully prepared for OWLs. I think I might actually be too prepared. Which is sort of scary. That's ambition for you, I guess.
  


• Decide once and for all whether or not to take this prefect thing a bit more seriously. I'm going to the dance, aren't I? Dateless and all.
  

end.

private to Roland.
I think, in light of the last Slambook entry and the fact that I think if I have to hold out long enough to snog her again, I might rather kill myself, now would be the perfect time for Bryony to get the hair colour she truly deserves, yeah?
end.

private to Naoko.
I say we come up with a plan and follow through in the next few weeks or so. Enough time's passed for her to think it wouldn't be us.
end.

( private to self. )

private to Freddie.
I was thinking, yeah, that you might like stop by the choir room tomorrow, instead of going to lunch? I've got it cleared with Professor Gerber as guitar playing time, and wouldn't refuse having an unexpected visitor.
end.

private.
The good thing about seeing Bryony every day is knowing what's coming. I swear. My mum would say that's not very Zen and that I need to just shrug what she did off, but just one time I don't want to be the bigger person. I didn't say a thing to Professor Dawlish about his shite casting choice, I didn't let Bryony trip Morin down a flight of stairs -- or attempt to do it myself. But I am not letting this just go. I refuse.
end.

private to Freddie.
I'd rather go with you, though.
end.

private to Bry.
I guess I should thank you.
end.

private to Roland.
How do you feel about having a hand in giving Bryony Edgecombe a bit of what she deserves?

I don't care how fucking long it takes.
end.

private.
Three days until the play. I'm slightly back to wanting to trip Morin again. I'm not going to tell Bryony that, though. I think she'd actually try to trip him.

Speaking of Bryony, I'm really going to have to put an end to the snogging with her. I mean, I can be a flirt some of the time, but I'm not really into the two girls at once thing. And I like Freddie. Enough that I'm going to Hogsmeade with her and I'll hopefully get the chance to kiss her again.
end.

private.
I have no idea what Bryony is up to with all her recent requests for snogging, but I'm really not complaining. And I don't like her like that. Not now. But she's not a bad person to go in for a few snogs with.

Even though

And they're just kisses, anyway. And I'm not dating Freddie or anything. Though I could ask her to Hogsmeade weekend in a few weeks. I mean, I had fun at the dance with her...




... Fuck.
end.

private to friends.
I've made up my mind that I'm not going to be bothered by Morin getting the part anymore. I mean, the chances of him flubbing them are large enough to make me think on this rationally. So, yes, Bry, your offer is being turned down. I'll just hope the universe isn't a completely fucked place and this works out in the way it's supposed to.
end.

private to people considered friends and trusted not to repeat this to anyone (anyone currently on good terms with Owen and not a blabbermouth).
It's been a few days.

I hope Morin breaks a leg. Literally. Or at least falls down a flight of stairs. I'd love to say I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. Not really. I'm that disappointed. And I think it's going to take a bit before I stop wanting to trip him every time I see him. I'm not going to actually do it, but I really want to. Even though it's not even his fault
end.

private.
Bigger person. Bigger person. Bigger person.

My mum says I need to be a bigger person, and I've still got a good number of plays to audition for and be in, but who says I'm going to want to be in any of them?

Bigger sodding person. Fine. Okay. I'll try.



I still want to trip him.
end.

private.
Trying to be a good sport about it is a lie. I want Romeo. Mercutio was an if I can't get what I want second. That's it.

Hopefully Patricia's right.
end.

private.
This Friday-Saturday-Sunday prefect schedule is shite. I'm fucking tired, and I don't feel like doing this right now. Not even a little. They're sodding lucky I only have to do it every couple of weeks, otherwise I'd tell them exactly where they can stick it.
end.

private.
I've already decided that I don't give enough of a shite about this badge. The chances of me actually taking points away from anyone or doing anything at all with it are slim to none and I wish Juliana would quit pretending I care. And, really, I get that she wants to do a good job and all, but if the next three years, let alone this one, are going to involve her trying to tell me what is or isn't a good example for the younger years -- and ask me how much I don't care about that; if they're so easily influenced, that's a problem for their personality, not me -- or what I should or should not do, I'm not going to hesitate to tell her how much she needs to back the hell off. Because she's already started to annoy the shite out of me with it, and I know her, so I can just imagine how well that's going to go over with everyone else.

You know what? I'm probably not going to survive the end of this year before giving up the sodding thing. Someone else can suffer though the bullshite if they want. That's not what's important to me.
end.