This week. Do NOT even get me started. My beautiful, white silk blouse is now ruined, my toe is still sore from stubbing it getting out of bed, AND DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T FOUND THAT NOTE YOU WROTE ABOUT ME BULSTRODE! I KNOW IT WAS YOU! YOU SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL WHOM YOU BADMOUTH. AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I DO NOT HAVE A PIG NOSE NOR DO I HAVE BIG FEET! IN FACT, MY FEET ARE RATHER DAINTY! HONESTLY! AND YES, AT THIS POINT I'M ONLY USING ALL CAPITAL LETTERS JUST TO IRRITATE YOU ALL.

This country. Honestly. And while we're calling a spade a spade, Bulstrode, I'd like you to know that you've been putting on more weight recently, despite your claims of being on a "strict, magical diet." Okay, so I KIND of killed your cat. So what? It was an accident! I thought we'd gotten past this by now. Honestly, you're too bloody sensitive about the smallest things. After all, you HAVE another one now. I mean, if your cat was skinned alive and boiled, then I can see how you might be slightly upset, but it's not as if it suffered immensely. Anyway, I'm done. I don't have to explain myself to you. Consider this a warning.

NO ONE WILL BE THROWING MY CAT! I'M WARNING YOU ALL, IF YOU EVEN SO MUCH AS TOUCH CONSTANTIA, I WILL USE YOUR INTESTINES FOR MITTENS. And I do so enjoy knitting.

Constantia has been through her fair share of hardships, though. Only two years ago, she was kidnapped by some incompetent cretin. It may have only been for a day, but she's still shaken from the incident. One more traumatising incident might just push her to the breaking point. Don't blame me if one day she goes on a killing spree and eats all of you. You deserve it, you sick, sick people.

I hope you choke on your teatime scones and die a long, painful death especially Parkinson.

( Hexed Private )

Mum sent me some biscuits she made the other day. She's decided to start cooking, which makes no sense, seeing as we have cooks at home. Anyway, she's made these rather...unique biscuits and I'm not really in the mood for any, so I was curious if anyone else might be interested. She's made her own recipe, apparently, but I can't tell for sure what's in them. I think they include little bits of pork, chocolate chips, pepper, celery, and a large amount of sugar.

I tried giving them to Constantia, but she refused to even come in contact with them. I don't want to throw them out after all of her hard work, so hopefully someone will be interested. However, I can't guarantee that they won't make you sick. But you won't die or anything like that but I can't be certain about that. So, be brave and come see me if you're interested.

I honestly think this dance is the most idiotic idea in the history of idiotic ideas. Still, I'll be attending. It'll give me something to complain about, and, to be honest, I haven't had very much to complain about as of late. It'll be amusing to see who pairs up with who. Though it's not very hard to guess the pairs.

The mindless, incompetent tossers will most likely be going with other mindless, incompetent tossers. Likewise, the wanton slags will probably be attending the dance with those of the same immoral caliber. And the pretentious pseudo-intellectuals will undoubtedly be alone with their books that night. Pity.

Anyhow, I suppose I'm going stag, seeing as I scare off the general male population of the school. Not as much as Millicent, though. She holds the title in that arena. Still, you have to admire someone who knocked out a fourth year for 5 hours.


[ PRiVATE ]
Thank Salazar Blaise isn't going to the dance with Abbott. Though, I'm not exactly too keen on him and Pansy going together, but anything's better than Abbott. Well, maybe not Promise. At least Abbott doesn't have a deformed cat that follows her around everywhere.
[ /PRiVATE ]

I'm absolutely going to scream. I'm surprised I haven't already. This cannot be happening to me! I mean, I like my hair. Why does this have to happen to me? It could've at least happened to someone who doesn't matter much, like, for example, a Hufflepuff.

( MY HAIR IS PINK!!! )

IT'S PINK!!! I DON'T WANT PINK HAIR!!!

It's not a very long story, but I was trying to charm my hair chestnut brown, and something went horribly wrong, I guess, because now my hair is pink! I've tried charming it back, but nothing works! I don't want to be stuck with pink hair forever! Ugh, that would be a complete and utter nightmare. If anyone has any advice, I would highly appreciate it. And the first person to make some crack about my hair is going to be strangled and chopped up into little pieces, because that's how furious I am. So don't even try it, unless you like being dismembered, that is.

Oh, and I've supplied a picture so everyone can get over the shock now instead of pointing and laughing in the corridors (although I somehow think that will still happen).

All right, who wrote "slag" on my forehead in black ink? This is not at all acceptable and I demand to know who did this. I'm not particularly mad that I was called a slag, but rather more upset that there is ink on my forehead. First of all, I'm not a slag. I do not sleep around and prostitute myself. I have much more class than that, although I know a few people who might happen to fall under those qualities Daphne. When I find out who did this, that person should be careful, because I will have my revenge. And it won't just be writing a silly insult on someone's forehead. No, much worse than that.

It's interesting how pleasant threats make you feel.

It is my cat's birthday, therefore you are obliged to wish her a happy birthday. She will be extremely hurt if you don't, and possibly attack someone. Just ask the first year that tried to pat her head. He was lucky his hand was still intact... for the most part, anyway. I think she's sulking right now and planning her next attack. It's not as if I'd try to stop her. If it's her plan to eat the entire school, then so be it. Who am I to interfere with her plans? Or maybe it's due to the fact that I want the majority of you to be eaten and digested alive.

Anyway, I sincerely wish all the other houses a horrible lovely day. That is all.

I think Millicent knocked me out. I can't remember. The last I can recall is her running into the common room screaming about Hortence and throwing random objects at me. "You're going to die, you self-righteous slag!" is the last I remember her saying (I guess the whole cat situation bothered her). And then I woke up with a black eye and a few broken bones. I'm lucky that was all. So naturally, I was in the hospital wing for the past couple days with Pomfrey for company. It really wasn't a pleasant situation. Anyway, I'm fine now (although the horrid black eye is still present), and am ready to resume my daily activities. I never thought I'd actually look forward to attending classes, but after spending 48 hours with Pomfrey, anything seems better than that.

I think I've just killed Millicent's cat. It was an accident. Seriously! Every cat knows they're not supposed to drink mysterious bottles filled with questionable liquids that happen to be lying around. So sorry, Millicent. It's really his fault. Plus, that monster lovely feline wasted my last bottle of necrosis potion. Besides, you can always get a new one, Millicent. Aren't all cats basically the same? They tear things up, sleep all day, and destroy lives. But who knows, he still might be alive. He keeps twitching from time to time, though that might just be due to nerves.


[ OOC: Eek! I'm sorry I've been so inactive, but I've had play practice just about every night for the past three weeks and I was very busy. Oddly enough, the play is based on Harry Potter. I'm Ron. Whee. But the performance was today and it is over so yay. Tracey is back. Celebrate. ]