This is sad

My blog is sad and empty. Why did I abandon you, my love?

You're not my love, that's for one.

Ah well, The Life and Times of Izzie, I shall never leave you be again.

Well, I might, but, y'know, I'll try not to.

Much love from Izzie

ANGER EXPLOSION

I wrote a very long post here.

My sister turned off the wireless Internet.

My irritation knows no bounds.

Love from Izzie

PS. I have liquorice comfits.

PPS. I'm even angrier now, because this is telling me that my name is a spelling mistake, and should be changed to 'Izzy'. I feel ill. Izzy is not my name. IZZIE is my name.

I, two Z's, I, E. NOT DIFFICULT.

I have problems

I keep talking in my sleep. This isn't something new, I've done it my whole life, but recently, I've started blurring the lines of dream and reality.

The story goes a little like this:

My mother walks into the room, 9am, and I am asleep. 'Wake up' she says.

'SHUT THE HELL UP -' I reply '- I'M TALKING TO LUCAS!'

My mother, confused and addled says -'Oh, okay, but where is he?'

'CAN'T YOU SEE? HE'S RIGHT HERE!' (Here I smash my hand painfully against the wall.)

'I'm afraid you might be dreaming this.'

'I DON'T BLOODY CARE IF I'M DREAMING OR NOT, I'M TALKING TO LUCAS!'

This is not good. This is not good at all. I'm going to have to fix this somehow.

On a different note - Lordie, I actually made a second post. Happy fathers day to all the fathers out there who could be bothered to see their children or had a legitimate reason not to.

Love from Izzie.

Evenin'

'Magine it. There I was, happy as Barry, when all of a sudden, a thought hit me like a metaphorical rock from the sky. Bam.

'Thou shalt write a blog for oneself', it said. And I do so right at this moment.

Tippy tappy tik tac - that's my fingers on the keys, typing what will surely (surely?) one day be a magnificent blog. Or else a piece of garbage left on the internet that no-one will read. One or t'other.

And so, my (most likely imaginary) friends and viewers, I bid you adeiu for now.

Love from Izzie.