In that place between asleep and awake......

Have I got News for You?!

2008-08-28T10:58:00.002Z

My summer is finally drawing to a close, which means that the pace is slowing down (almost imperceptibly, but I live in hope!). At the moment I am recovering from Greenbelt. It was my first time there, so I didn't really know what to expect, but I had a really great time! =)

Anyway...befooore Greenbelt... on the 14th August, to be precise, it was Results Day. It was kind of strange turning up at school in the middle of summer, but even stranger how everyone opened their results with a 'poker face'. Everyone was standing in little clusters with their friends, and everyone was saying, 'You go first', 'No! You first!', 'No, YOU go first!'.

I watched my friends' faces as they opened their results, and their facial expression gave absolutely nothing away. The thing is, you don't want to look too happy, because
a) if your friends are really disappointed in their results, you don't want to rub it in their faces, and
b) because you don't want to look like a loser. If you're grinning like an idiot at your 3Cs, and your friend bursts into tears at their AAB, I....erm..... don't really know what that could imply, but it's best to avoid complicated emotions and group dynamics during occasions such as these.

Anyway, eventually they forced me to open my results, and I stared blankly at the pieces of paper, not because I was being diplomatic, but because it took me a while to pick out the important numbers out of all the other numbers written there for camoflage or something...
In the end they snatched it off me and told me what I had. A for English Lit (and that was a high A, with an A in every module), and B for Biology. When I heard the Biology result, I nearly passed out from relief, because my teacher told me 2 weeks before exams that I had no hope of getting a B. But anyway, she said that to nearly everyone. And it was a totally respectable B - not skin of the teeth B! So HAAAAA! to her. I am going to have to try very hard not to gloat when I return my textbook. Or I may just sell it on Amazon and make some money out of her. They are changing the syllabus (dumbing down the system, no doubt! =P ), so they don't really need these books anyway.

So anyway, back to the story.... At this point, I knew I had AB...and I knew I needed ABB for Royal Holloway... but I had to go and pick up the result from the other school. By the time I got there, I was close to tears, because my friend and I had had to walk past a group of people panicking because they'd been given conditional offers from Royal Holloway, met the conditions, but been shunted on to a different course, because the department accidently gave out too many conditional offers (which must be illegal, surely?!). So, even if I got the grades, if I didn't pass well enough, I could have ended up doing English and Criminology or some other obscure combination like that. But it was all fine, coz I got a B in French. A VERY high B. I was 9 marks (out of 600) away from getting an A. 9 MARKS!!!! I did the maths (and then got someone who understands maths to check it for me) and I calculated that I was 1.5% off an A. 1.5% of 2 years!!!! What is that, like, an afternoon of school or something?!?!?! Grrrrr.....

So then I started ranting about how I was going to retake a module and get it up to an A, but my friends told me that as I had already got a place at Royal Holloway, to do the course I want to do, retaking any exams would be purely for my own pride. And then I felt bad... because a lot of my friends didn't get into the unis they wanted (some didn't get in at all). So, so make amends, I sat down with a copy of the Independent and went through UCAS clearing to help them find interesting looking courses in not too dodgy places.

But yeah, to cut a long story short, I'M GOING TO ROYAL HOLLOWAY NEXT YEAR!!!! =D

Though the next big step in the journey of my life (yeah...OK.... I'm taking the scenic route) is my gap year with Oxygen, which starts on Monday. It kind of crept up on me. I seem to have fooled myself into believing that a 3 month summer never ends.
But it does.
On Monday.

You are my Sunshine...

2008-06-12T09:41:00.003Z

...my only sunshine. =)
I once got caught singing that out loud in a bus stop. Kind of awkward.

Anyway...
Would you like to be involved in a big art erm... thingy?
Make one of these!

(Or click here for the big version!)

I know some of you may be wondering why I have included 'Constellations', but I like that song, and technically, it mentions a sunset. And even more technically, stars are just far away suns. There may be other intelligent life forms out there who think their star is the sun. Who are we to argue with them? Especially since it's likely that they are more intelligent life forms than we are.

This kind of thing is perfect for people like me, who have a well developed artistic sensibility, but the artistic capability of a slug. (Yes, I do realise that slugs have no arms. That's my point.) So make your list, upload it, send me a link, and I will promise not to critique your music taste too harshly. I can hardly talk... yesterday I put my iPod on shuffle and ended up listening to The Bear Necessities from Jungle Book.

Unimpressed

2008-06-05T15:53:00.001Z

Would you feel like revising when this is going on just across the room from you?!

Pah.

The Final Countdown!

2008-06-02T09:49:00.002Z

I realise that I have been distant lately. It's not you, it's me.
Life has been busy.

I have now officially finished school. This isn't like when I finished school after GCSE. This is final. This is forever. It is the end of an era.

I've been on study leave for about 3 weeks now. I could tell you about how my Mum went to Canada for 2 weeks, and that by the time she got back we were all desperate because the only food left in the house was useless 'ingredients' - no ready meals; and 2 mouldy apples.
Or I could tell you about how I went camping with a bunch of crazy people, and how we blew up a garden gnome using dynamite that someone had procured through a link with a medieval reinactment society, and unintentionally set fire to 3 bunnies who had decided to live in our bonfire during the days after it was built, and before it was lit. That was actually very, very sad, and it haunts me to this day. A whopping 7 days after it happened. ='(

I could even tell you about my experiences of voting in the London Mayoral Elections, and about how I voted for Sian Berry (Green) because although I thought we'd probably end up with a Tory, I couldn't bring myself to vote Conservative at 18. And I question the wisdom behind voting for a mayor who can't even control his own hair, let alone a massive, slightly dysfunctional city.

But I won't tell you any of those things, because my exams are coming thick and fast now, and, after all, this is study leave.

So I think I'll just tell you that the 'powers that be' ought to re-think the A level syllabusses (syllabi?! whatever...) because these 2 years are depressing enough, without adding extra depressing subject matter.
For example, at the moment I am revising Biology (genetic diseases, mutations, damage to the environment), English Lit (War literature with a focus on WW1) and French (moral and ethical issues - all of which seem to deal with death; abortion, euthanasia, death penalty, poverty, AIDS etc).
I'm supposed to be sitting here thinking, 'Oh, yes! Let me revise! I must get good A Level results so that the world can be my oyster, and I can continue (or possibly begin) to thrive in this beautiful society!'.
And actually I'm thinking, 'What's the point? A Levels won't stop me from getting a mutation which will cause a really awful disease, and even if I don't, there might be another war, and then we'll all be doomed, and even if we live through the war, we might get a new kind of government that kills everyone with the death penalty, or stops caring about us so that we start living in poverty, or infects us with AIDS in our sleep unless we have a particular eye colour...perhaps abortion should be compulsory to make sure we don't inflict the trials of life on anyone else, and maybe they should recommend euthanasia to everyone so we can just die and leave this sick, sick world.....etc....'.
OK, so maybe that's a little dramatic, but still..... cheerier A Level subject matter would be appreciated. Thanks.

All exams will be over by the end of June.
And then I won't be doing exams for aaaages, thanks to my Gap Year. =D
(That's a big deal when you've had loads of important, external, official exams every 6 months for the last 5 years).

So I'll be back by the summer.
If my DNA doesn't mutate, and there's no war.

Spring Watch

2008-04-08T13:22:00.007Z

I can keep plants alive, therefore I am responsible.

Get Lost!

2008-04-08T11:35:00.006Z

I have become totally addicted to Lost. It all started when I was sick a few months ago, and a somebody lent me season 1 so I didn't go mad from boredom. I was alone all weekend, and watched the entire first season in 3 days.

I have to mute it when the Lost title comes up, because the noise that comes along with it (you can't really call it a theme tune) is really scary.

[Edit: This next bit is optional. It is a bit pathetic and also grammatically crazy.]
Well, OK, the Lost noise isn't that scary, but when you've been alone all weekend watching Lost, and it's dark, and and the dog on Lost starts barking at the same time that your dog starts barking downstairs, and then you try and go downstairs to see whats wrong with your dog, and when you get half way to the kitchen, you hear that scary noise in your head, even though you know FULL WELL you paused it upstairs, and then you have to phone your friend to try and calm down, and as soon as your friend picks up the phone, you glimpse your own reflection in a glass door, think it is Sayid, and then start shrieking down the phone.......... yeah. Don't watch it for more than 4 hours at a time. (Btw, I look nothing like Sayid. I don't even have curly hair. I don't know why that happened. Blame it on The Island's magical powers.)
[----> Optional bit over.]

Anyway. I have had lots of interesting conversations with friends about Lost, and have heard many different theories behind what The Island is all about, and who The Others are.
I have almost caught up with the rest of the world now - I started season 4 today. The thing is, once I'm up to date, I'll only be able to watch them as and when they are broadcast. I won't be able to watch 7 in a row anymore. Even though I haven't run out of episodes yet, I kinda feel like it's the last day of summer camp or something.
A good thing is coming to an end. =(

Though on the plus side, we are going to get a lot of questions answered this season. It's meant to be the last one I think, so the big question is, IS THERE LIFE AFTER LOST?!
For the Oceanic 6? For the other suriviors? For The Others (or what's left of them, anyway)?
Is there going to be life for us, after the series is over? What will we do with ourselves?

Actually....thats a lie. The BIGGEST question is, who will Kate get with, Sawyer or Jack? I have not really nailed my colours to the mast when it comes to the 'Skate/Jate debate'. Though I thought the 'Jate is Fate' slogan was pretty cool, until I realised that 'Skate is Fate' rhymes just as well.

Admittedly, it took me all of 5 minutes to fall in love with Jack. I mean, he's so heroic in the first few episodes. He's handsome, charming, graduated from medical school a year early, and is the best spinal surgeon in the world. (*sigh*)
And at the start of Season 1, Sawyer is surly, uncooperative, and irritating.....and also hot, in a 'bad guy' kind of way.
So at first, I didn't even understand why the 'Skate/Jate Debate' existed. It seemed obvious that Kate should be with Jack. Why Sawyer? WHY? Yeah, he's hot, but he's no Jack.

Then I got to seasons 2 and 3, and suddenly it all became clear. Jack, although heroic, becomes a workaholic and is obsessed with protecting everyone and being the leader and not letting people get killed. Which are all worthy objectives, but they kinda make him a bit boring. Jack is too much of a good guy to be able to pull off the whole sexy, distant, 'brooding and mysterious' thing. Meanwhile, I started to realise that Sawyer is just misunderstood. And, let's be honest, Kate is a fugitive... Perhaps she is more suited to Sawyer. Then again, perhaps Jack could be the best thing that ever happens to her. Perhaps he could be the thing that changes her; her 'happily ever after'.

ARGH. You see?! That's why the love triangle is far more interesting than the Bermuda triangle (or whatever else could be the key to The Islands mystery).

And don't even get me started on what happened between Shannon and Sayid. I mean, how weird is that?! It took me until season 3 to realise that perhaps the Psycho Torturer Guy may, in fact, have some appeal. But I'm still kinda grossed out with myself for thinking that, even though most of my female friends, when pressed, said they also kinda get the appeal. To be fair, he's not so much of a Psycho Torturer anymore... he's quite sweet. (And also, Shannon and Boone were more messed up. I mean, c'mon, they're related! =/ )

Lately, my friends and I have been discussing how all the crash survivors (and The Others, in some cases) were linked together BC (before crash, obviously).

We drew a diagram. I thought you might like to see it. =)

I don't know if it'll go bigger if you click on it? In case you can't see, Jack and Sawyer seem to be linked to the most people.

Maybe that's coz they are hot, and hot people have more friends. Or maybe there's a deeper meaning..... Only time will tell!

Sorry I have been bad at blogging recently, but, well.... I've been watching Lost.

Yo, Sista

2008-03-12T21:45:00.003Z

At school today we were all told we had to be in school for last lesson, which didn't go down well, as Wednesday last lesson is a free for most people.
It was even worse when word got around that the reason we had to be in was for a talk on safe sex. I mean, it's a Catholic school, so for years, they haven't spoken to us about sex, because
a) we shouldn't be doing it until we are married, and
b) we shouldn't use contraception.
so there's not really anything they can teach us about it. (Except, as one girl pointed out, technique, but that would be unprofessional, peverse, and possibly illegal?).

Also, as most of us are 18 now, everyone who wants to do it has, and everyone who doesn't want to do it doesn't need to know. And we all already know anyway. Talk about shutting the door after the horse has bolted.

The teachers suspected that a lot of us would try to 'forget' about the session, if possible. So Sister Margaret went around at lunch time to remind us about it. We then started chatting about other things... like how we're doing with our lenten promises etc... and as she turned to leave, I called after her, 'Oh, sister, is this safe sex thing compulsory?'
She turned around with a mock-horrified expression on her face, and said, 'Of course it is, Anna! Safe sex is always compulsory, and never let anybody convince you otherwise!'

(I'd like to specify that this is a nun with a sense of humour. We go way back. She will never stop seeing me as the innocent little girl that used to swing on my chair at the back of maths, and get in trouble for talking too much and hugging people when I was meant to be listening. She does not, therefore, think of me as sexually active, and probably never will).

It turned out that the session was called SAVE sex, and not SAFE sex, which was what had caused the confusion.

It was surprisingly not religious, although it would probably have been better received if the boy presenting it had looked as though he was abstaining from sex through choice, and not through necessity. I know that sounds a bit mean, but he was a real nerd. And not in an cute way.

The session began with us shouting the word 'sex' as loud as we could, to break the ice. (Because, obviously, 18 year olds aren't used to talking about sex).
I didn't join in with as much enthusiasm as I'd have liked, because, you know, Sister Margaret was there, so I was trying to look like I didn't know what sex was.
Which, looking back, was kinda stupid, because she knows I do A Level Biology.

Anyway, did you know that if you're between the ages of 16 and 21, and sexually active, but you always use a condom, and you have a normal amount of sex (whatever that is) for a year, you have a 16% chance of getting pregnant. WHAT?!?!?!?! I thought they were, like, 98% effective? (Though according to Malikah, it's possible for them to be 98% effective and still have a 16% chance of getting pregnant. This is why I don't do maths. Perhaps I should ask Sister Margaret to explain?)

16% is rather high. And there's a much higher chance of getting an STD. Ew. EW.
So the Government is no longer calling it 'safe sex'; it's now 'safer sex'.
'nuff said.
Don't do it kids.

By the way, I went to see Juno a few weeks ago.
It's AMAZING. Possibly one of my new favourite films EVER.
And it's about a 16 year old girl who gets pregnant because she has sex with her tic-tac loving best friend in an Only-Fools-And-Horses-Type-Armchair because they get bored.
I went to see it, because apparently it's meant to be a good representation of my generation's values and general outlook on life.
I think it's really accurate. (At first, I resented the bit about having sex our of boredom, rather than, oh, I don't know...curiosity, but after today's sex talk, I think that may have been more accurate than I thought.)
Plus, I am convinced that Indie films are the way to go, and this one has an amazing sound track thrown in for good measure. And a cast you will fall in love with.
Go see it! =)

Leeeeegal

2008-02-04T00:13:00.000Z

I have been legal for several weeks now. I just forgot to blog about it. But it is a big deal though, right?! I mean, I'm an adult. I can buy alcohol, and vote in general elections. I have also become legal to buy cigarettes for the second time in my life, which is quite rare. There aren't many people in the world who can say that. When I was 16, 16 year olds could buy cigarettes. Then they recently raised the age to 18....and now I'm 18. Which is a relief, because, honestly, you have NO idea how desperate I've been for a fag...
(Sarcasm. Judging by my current level of fitness, if I ever took up smoking, I probably wouldn't be able to walk without going light headed).

I also realised today that if my parents die, I won't have to be adopted by someone. And I could possibly even make myself legal guardian of my brother, sister, cats and dog, so as to keep the remaining members of the family together.

Anyway, on to less morbid things. I am going to tell you about my first experience of (legally) buying alcohol:

It was a beautiful Wednesday in January. It had been freezing cold, and had rained non-stop for several days, but suddenly the sky was blue, and the birds were singing. (Surely they should all be in the south of France at the moment...?). It was the kind of day during which you feel inexplicably happy, but don't want to question it too much in case you jinx it. Like when you sit a maths paper and realise you're three quarters of the way through and haven't skipped a single question .

However, on this particular day, I had an extra reason to feel happy; it was my 18th birthday. I had extra freedom. I was my own person. I could do whatever I wanted. Yeah, technically I know that I will never be able to do whatever I want, no matter how old I am, but the sense of power went to my head just a little bit.

So, after school, I decided to go and buy alcohol - just because I could.

I went along to Somerfield. Not the classiest place to buy alcohol, I know, but it was the only place that was (kind of) on my way home. So I went in and tried to decide what to buy. I looked around... my preferred alcoholic beverage is red wine (yeah, I'm sophisticated), but to be honest, I really can't tell the difference between the different types of wine. There was a nice looking kind that was on offer. I walked up to the counter, bottle of wine in one hand, ID in the other.

I handed the bottle to the woman, who smiled at me as she scanned it. 'Thats £6.99 please, love'. You have got to be kidding me; for the first time in my entire life, I have ID thats actually useful, and she doesn't want it. I tried to hand it to her, but she just smiled again, and said, 'It's alright darling, I'm sure you're 18... you've got an honest face. You are 18, aren't you dear?'. Whatever happened to the whole 'Are you 21? It's my job to ask' thing? I mumbled, 'Well...yes, but today!'.
She flashed me another smile, but this was a completely different one. A patronising one. 'Oh, thats lovely! Congratulations, dear! 18! And what a lovely day to celebrate on! Here, pass me your ID - of course I'll look at it!'. By this time, there were several people queued behind me, and it was starting to get embarrassing. I didn't want her to look at my ID just to humour me, but I didn't feel that I could refuse. I passed it over, and she spent several minutes rooting under the counter looking for her glasses, while gushing about how lovely it was that it was my birthday, and wasn't I lucky to have the whole of my life stretching ahead of me, seemingly endless... Eventually the search was over, and she put her glasses on and squinted at my driving licence (Still provisional. Don't ask.). 'Ooooh, look at that! Wow... Is it really the 16th already?!' Well...yes. But if you don't believe it's the 16th, don't serve me. It's illegal. 'Awww, look at you, all grown up!'. I heard a snigger behind me, and decided I should probably try to draw the show to a close. I handed her the money, and stuffed the bottle in a bag as she rang it up on the till. 'Have a lovely day, won't you love? And don't drink it all at once...', she called after me as I power walked towards the exit. I turned my head slightly as I went through the door, in time to catch her winking at me conspirationally.

....and they wonder why this area is the underage binge drinking capital of the UK.

Since then, I have kept my ID hidden safely in my bag when buying alcohol, and only produce it when challenged. I am not going to remind people to 'challenge 21' if it's going to end in my humiliation, even if it provides amusement for other shoppers.
Fortunately I don't buy a lot of alcohol. Embarrassingly, my younger brother has a higher alcohol tolerance than I do. 3 pints of beer, and the room doesn't quite keep up with my head as I skip around, giggling like a 4 year old....

My New Hero!

2008-01-22T16:59:00.000Z

Mark Malkoff, an American comedian/film maker moved in to Ikea for a week while his house was being fumigated! He didn't leave Ikea for a whole week! Wow!

You can find out all about it at http://www.marklivesinikea.com/

There are lots of videos about the stuff he got up to, including a date he organises with his wife who didn't want to move into Ikea, and then thought he loved Ikea more than he loved her... (which he didn't deny!)

And, as if that isn't enough, he also visited all 171 branches of Starbucks in Manhattan in one day. He also bought something at each one... I'm assuming they weren't all cups of coffee. The caffeine in 171 coffees all consumed in 24 hours could have an interesting effect.... perhaps that's how he managed to visit every branch? By making himself really hyperactive?

Anyway, find out about that at http://www.171starbucks.com/

But yeah....Ikea and Starbucks are, like, my FAVOURITE places on the planet.

In my opinion, the real wonders of the world.

I mean, were the pyramids flat packed? No.

Could you get an iced-decaf-triple-grande-java chip-frappuccino with whipped cream and chocolate flakes at the Temple of Artemis? I think not.

And I'd choose that twin tailed mermaid in the Starbucks logo than that statue of Zeus any day!

Furthermore, it would appear that Starbucks coffee has life saving properties. ; )

Wow.

2008-01-10T17:40:00.000Z

I just realised something else

A 'Hobson's Choice' is (according to Wikipedia) 'a free choice in which only one option is offered, and one may refuse to take that option. The choice is therefore between taking the option or not taking it. The phrase is said to originate from Thomas Hobson (1544–1630), a livery stable owner in Cambridge, England, who, in order to rotate the use of his horses, offered customers the choice of either taking the horse in the stall nearest the door—or taking none at all'.

Wikipedia also says that a 'Hobson's Choice' is different from
'a true choice between two (or more) options
blackmail (do something, or have some unpleasant fact about your past revealed)
extortion (do something or suffer unpleasant consequences of some other sort)
a Catch-22 situation (all choices yield equivalent results)'.

The reason this surprised me so much is that 'Hobsons' is also the name of a company which 'specialises in student intelligence, recruitment, and enrolment management'. I know this because we had to fill out questionnaires for them at School a few years ago, and they have been sending me spam ever since. I should have fake e-mailed them, but it all seemed very official and serious, and I didn't have the guts to do it at the time. (Though I remember having to list 3 possible career options and I could only think of 2, so I ticked the 'armed forces' box as the third. Do you think it skewed their graphs? I wonder if I was an anomaly, suspended, all alone, above the line of best fit).

Is it just me, or is 'Hobsons' a slightly odd name to give such a company? I don't really know about everything they do, but all the spam they've sent me and all their magazines that have been thrust at me have been about going to university. Are they implying that a university degree is the only real option post 18? Is it brainwashing?

Their website says that they have 8 offices around the world. So if I really have uncovered some sort of conspiracy, we should act fast, before a big man behind a big desk dials a number on his big telephone and we are all caught in a big trap and...um....live lives of big oppression under a big dictator.

Argh. You see.... this is why it takes me ages to write an essay. I get side tracked so easily.

Though it's amazing what learning another language can teach you about your own. =)

In French, 'Hobson's Choice' is 'choix qui n'en est pas un'.
...so...erm....yeah....basically they don't have a word for it....

Be careful what you wish for...

2008-01-10T16:46:00.000Z

I'm in the middle of writing an essay at the moment, 'L'euthanasie est une forme de meurtre' ('euthanasia is a form of murder' for those of you who couldn't guess that!) and I was looking up words in a dictionary...... and it struck me that there is a difference between a 'dying wish' and a 'death wish'. Quite a big difference.
I'd used the wrong one at first, and then read through what I had written, saw the ambiguity, and thought I'd better check it. Good thing too - it would have changed the whole message of my essay!

_________
In case you were wondering, I won't be writing about Christmas and New Year, because they weren't fantastic. I got that famous bug - before it was famous - and threw up 17 times on Christmas Day. Yes, apparently it is possible to throw up that many times without eating anything. It just gets progressively more painful as time goes on.
They saved my Christmas Dinner, and I had it in a panini for tea on Boxing Day, as I was feeling much better by then.

Iambic Pentameter.

2007-12-10T18:20:00.000Z

Wow.

I should try that!

Or even do a whole university interview in iambic pentameter!

...which reminds me.....

GUESS WHO GOT A PLACE AT ROYAL HOLLOWAY THIS WEEKEND?! YES, THATS RIGHT, MEEEEEEE!!!

Surrey is the only place that had given me an offer til now, but they aren't particularly brilliant for English.

I didn't even have an interview for Royal Holloway, which is amazing considering the uni and the course! I need to get ABB, but that means they've lowered the entry requirements for me as well!

They must've loved my personal statement. Either that, or they need a semi-crazy person for the sake of diversity... =)

The Aga Saga Woman.

2007-12-05T22:47:00.000Z

Inner Poise?! Me?!

2007-11-23T17:25:00.000Z

I got an invitation for 'Picture Personality Test' on Facebook, so I decided to give it a go.

Normally they make the results of these things quite obscure, so that it would really apply to anyone. I think this is the first time I have ever violently disagreed with the results to a personality test.

For 'Temperament', I got the following result:

Flexible
Nothing seems to bother you - you sail through life crisis free. It's not that your life doesn't have its ups and downs, it's just that you handle everything without unnecessary drama and antics. You approach each day fresh, not worrying about yesterday or tomorrow. You are confident that you can handle anything that comes your way and experience has shown that you are absolutely right about this.

You have GOT to be kidding me. I am one of the most dramatic people I know. And I have crises on a weekly basis (Sometimes daily, if I'm having a really bad week!).
My close friends have lost count of the number of times I've sobbed 'But I cant DOOOO this!' into their shoulder.
I can normally cope with things fine in the end, but I definitely make mountains out of molehills. A total Drama Queen.

Though my results seem to contradict each other, because look what I got for 'Amusement':

Thoughtful
You are easily stressed out and overwhelmed - you need to take care of yourself first and foremost. Because you tend to be self reflective, you know your limits quite well and must remember to not exceed those limits. When you overwhelm your life with obligations and responsibilities, you tend to shut down and go into yourself even further. Take some time to find your serenity and kick back your feet.

Easily stressed out and overwhelmed? Yep, that sounds more like me!

However, 'Interests' and 'Passion' are a lot closer to the truth:

Interests
Simple
You are continually pursuing a simpler and less complicated life - you don't allow yourself to fall victim to all of the "should do's" that society continually bombards you with. You are thoughtful about your life choices and think in terms of yourself, others and the world in which we live. You have a great sense that we are part of something much bigger and we must be good to others, if we want others and the world to be good to us.

Passion
Physical
You are a cuddle bug - from a warm hug shared with your best friend to steamy sex with your partner, you enjoy every bit of human contact that you can get. You demonstrate your love for others most fluidly through physical one-on-one contact and you feel the most loved when you are being touched. You feel disconnected when you are physically isolated from others. You're a people person and a lover of all things human.

I once did a personality test called 'Which Dysfunctional Barbie are You?'.
My result was 'Lactating Barbie'.
That was years ago, and the result was so horrifying that it has stuck with me to this day. My friends also did the test, and they came up with different, but even more horrifying results. I guess it's the 'dysfunctional' part that does it. =/

You've gotta be careful with these tests!

In other news, I've had bird flu all week. It's been awful. And I've been very brave and gone in to school every day, because I really would not be able to catch up on all the work, and then I'd fail my A Levels and end up living on the streets and catching things that are even worse than bird flu. I thought I'd probably be dead by the weekend, but I perked up a lot today, so I think I may make a miraculous recovery.
If I never blog again, assume I didnt make the miraculous recovery.

(I just re-read that last paragraph. I guess it's confirmation that I really am a drama queen...)

Globe Trotting

2007-11-19T18:18:00.000Z

Today we had an English Lit trip to the Globe Theatre. It was reeeeeeally good! =)

The only thing is, it didn't stop raining all day. They should really put a roof on that thing!

We didn't actually get to see a play, which was a shame, but it meant that we got to walk around on stage during our tour of the theatre. I guess something like standing at the centre of the Globe Theatre's stage and delivering the line, 'To be, or not to be - that is the question' will be something to tell the grandchildren. ; )

On the way to the The Globe, we saw the Queen! (Yes, the actual Queen!). One of our teachers nearly got run over by her first motorbike escort. We turned around to laugh, and then another motorbike came along, followed by 2 sleek dark green Rolls-Royce limos, and the Queen was sitting in the back of the first one! We weren't on a main road at all. We'd been walking through a load of alleys and back streets that the teacher claimed were a short cut from Waterloo Station to The Globe. (Incidentally, he also claimed that it was only a 25 minute walk. We were jogging to keep up, and it was more of a wade than a walk to be honest, but I guess we can't realistically blame the weather on him as well.)

Anyway. We got there, eventually, and had a tour of the theatre, and then did an interactive workshop on the differences between Shakespearean and modern acting, and then more specifically about Hamlet.

We learnt a lot of really interesting things, but unfortunately I've forgotten most of them. (They may come back to me later...?!) One of them was that most of Shakespeares plays were only written to be performed about 6 or 7 times. He had no idea that hundreds of years later, they'd become known as some of the best plays ever written.

Also, the actors wouldn't receive a copy of the whole script, because copyright laws didn't exist back then, and Shakespeare didn't want people ripping off his work. He gave them each copies of their lines, and a cue to bring them in each time. The cue was only 3 words long! JUST 3 WORDS!!!! So they didn't really know what the play was about until they all got together and rehearsed it.

And thats another thing - because they had a different play on nearly every day, and Shakespeare's plays were always performed at 2 in the afternoon, the only rehearsal they could have was on the morning of the performance! (Apparently they couldn't practice in the evening, because actors like to go out and drink all night...so their morning rehearsals couldn't start too early the next morning either!)

Our lecturer/Globe actor/tour guide (the guy looking really surprised in the first photo) said that he thinks the fact that the Shakespearean actors didn't have copies of the whole script beforehand made the acting seem a lot more spontaneous, because when you went on stage, you didn't know whether you were about to be slapped, or kissed, or whether you'd have to stand there for 10 mins before being expected to deliver your first line.

I don't know if I could deal with that. But hey, maybe I'm just high maintenance.

Me and Phelan were planning to go on a literary pilgrimage and visit the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey, so we could pay hommage to the likes of Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen (The Jane Austen Book Club came out on Friday! Haven't been to see it yet though...) but when we'd finally managed to get there, we discovered that it is closed on Mondays.

Though we weren't too depressed, because we'd seen a few entertaining things on the way there.

Like a giant spider outside the Tate:

(Don't worry - Phelan didn't get eaten!)

And lots of anti-busking signs:

(I won't upload them all, but to be honest, they were kinda the highlight of the whole trip...!)

And some modern art next to the Thames:

It was meant to be about noticing people (and realising how special and significant they are, realising their potential etc.) but we thought it was a bit obscure, so I decided to make it easier to notice people through it.
(I would just like to emphasise the fact that the modern art was not meant to be at all sexual. I know that's a novel concept, especially considering some of the other modern art on that stretch of the river, but you'll just have to trust me on this. I would not have put my face there otherwise. =P )

And some Storm Troopers on the roof of County Hall:

...maybe they heard that the Queen was out?!

And a Scottish man with bagpipes on Westminster Bridge:

He was very friendly, but practically made us promise to go to Edinburgh University if we get accepted there, on the basis that it's 'the best in the world for medicine'. Well....it's not, and neither of want to do medicine, and we've only visited it - neither of us have actually applied there - so we could quite happily promise, as we are both confident that we won't get an offer from there.
He was still a nice man though. =)

And Big Ben:

And some nutters protesting opposite the Houses of Parliament (no offence if you were one of them...we loved your masks and coordinating outfits. Obviously very well planned):

They totally hogged all the limelight, so the poor people protesting about Iraq got no attention at all.

Then after that we got to Westminster Chapel and saw that it was closed, and decided to go shopping on Oxford Street instead. And we didn't really see anything else interesting. The lights were pretty though. =)

Lacking, but by no means lesser.

2007-11-17T17:31:00.000Z

Ben and Jerry went to the vet this week, and came back...well.....with bits missing.

But they did gain a chip each, so at least if someone tries to steal them, we can prove that they are ours because we now have copies of their barcodes.

I wish I had a barcode. =(

Though I got my fingerprint done for our school registration thing, which is the next best thing I suppose...

I really think they should link the fingerprint registration to the door, because the way it is at the moment, we have to scan our fingerprint to register whether we are going in or out, and then enter a code to unlock the door. It's SOOOO much more 'mission impossible' to link it to the door. And then I'd actually remember to do it.
The thing is, I haven't successfully scanned myself yet, because there are loads of buttons on the fingerprint machine, and I'm not sure which ones I'm meant to press...

And also, at lunch and break there's a mad scramble around the finger print machine because everyone's trying to get it to scan them properly, and to be honest, it's a bit unreliable. It doesn't recognise that many people.
I'm still not sure if it recognises me or not, because I still don't know if I'm pressing the right buttons.

And anyway, we still have to go to registration, 'in case they have to give us messages'.
I think the main point of it is so that they know which site we are at.
In case there's a fire, or a bomb threat, or some overdue coursework...

Anyway, back to Ben and Jerry, they seem to be OK after their trip to the vet, although when they first got back they walked in a really funny way. I'm not sure whether the anaesthetic still hadn't worn off, or whether they were having to adjust to living with certain parts of their anatomy missing.

They seem to be OK now though. I'm not convinced that actually know what they have lost. I think they just feel different, but are unaware that something is missing...

The rest of the family went out today, so I spent some quality time with them. =)

As you can see, Ben isn't very sociable. He preferred the warmth of the fire to the heat radiating from my hot body. ; ) Jerry had the right idea!

Jerry is a little cutie pie

Though, obviously, I'm very fair and don't have favourites....

UCAS is Ooooooover!

2007-11-12T21:55:00.000Z

I submitted my UCAS form today! =)
I'm glad I've got all of that over with!

I changed the last sentence of my personal statement at the last minute. It now reads, 'I believe that the opportunity to gain a degree in English would be instrumental in my search for a rewarding and life enhancing career'.
I'm having second thoughts about it now... =/
Oh well, surely being a bit hyperbolic is a good characteristic in an English student.
Plus, all artists are drama queens. =)

I applied to Royal Holloway, Southampton, Lancaster, Surrey and Goldsmiths.

I'll be very surprised if Southampton accepts me, and very offended if Goldsmiths doesn't, as that's my insurance choice in case nobody else wants me.
I'd LOVE to get into Royal Holloway - that's my first choice, but it's actually harder to get into Lancaster and Southampton... so we'll see.
I decided not to apply to Edinburgh in the end. It's a beautiful city, but I don't know if I want a Scottish MA....or almost certain rejection, for that matter.

The thing about applying to do English is that the rest of the country also has that idea, and funnily enough, the rest of the country also wants to go to the most popular universities, making it very competitive...

I had a dream that I was in Royal Holloway (and living in a really nice flat), but if my dreams are anything to go by, the university I get into should be the least of my worries...

I'll keep you posted!

Photographic Evidence

2007-11-08T22:05:00.000Z

I was flicking through the camera (how wierd does that sound?!) and found a picture that shows the piercing! Unfortunately, I'm not holding a copy of The Times, or anything else that would help to date it as having been taken this week, so you'll just have to take my word for it I'm afraid.

I thought it would be particularly good example, as the light of the flash is glinting on it...

Despite what my mother may think, it's quite a subtle piercing, so you may have to look carefully. And as you can probably tell, it is completely hidden when my hair is down, unless I cock my head to the side (as shown) which is something I don't really do, or perhaps hang my head upside down, which I also don't do.

Try not to be too jealous of my Ikea duvet cover in the background. I know you all want it.

Gimme More

2007-11-08T21:30:00.000Z

I just watched Britney's new music video...

In English Lit today, in between discussing existentialism, and fatalism, we touched on her new single, and a few people in the class seemed to be of the opinion that it is the best thing since Chris Brown's last song-rap thing. (Apparently Chris Brown is 'Safe...innit').

So I thought I'd at least give it a go before dismissing it as yet another money making publicity stunt that glorifies an unhealthy view of sexuality and the objectification of women.
Because I am, after all, a very tolerant person. ; )

It's thoroughly predictable. A very unimaginative melody, with even less imaginative lyrics. The words 'gimme' and 'more' make up about two thirds of the lyrics.

And I didn't really understand what was going on...
She was dancing, obviously. But I really didn't get why she was so close to a pole. I mean, surely, it would get in the way. And there is always the obvious risk of banging ones head in the middle of ones power grind...
I also didn't get why she spent at least the first two minutes (that's all I watched) of the song asking someone/something (the pole?) to give her 'more'. More of what?
Obviously, knowing Britney, there must be a really deep symbolism in that. I am just too uneducated and insensitive to grasp the metaphor.

The thing that concerned me though, is the fact that for the middle of November, she wasn't wrapped up very warmly. I mean, she hasn't been particularly well recently... she should look after herself properly, and get some layers on.
Though with her stressful family situation, and all the court cases, perhaps she's short of money and can't afford a lovely warm winter coat? Come to think of it, there were a lot of holes in her tights...

Poor girl.

I'd post a link to the video, but I really don't think you should watch it, to be honest.

Yoga 'Pants'

2007-11-06T20:57:00.000Z

Today I decided that the time had come for me to get some new yoga 'pants'. (I use the inverted commas because I hate Americanisms, but 'yoga trousers' doesn't sound right). My old yoga 'pants' were very old and had never been particularly flattering, and to be honest, I can't actually remember where I got them, and I have had a sneaking suspicion that they may have originally been pyjama bottoms... These yoga 'pants' are far more comfortable than the old ones, and they even came with a free mantra: My life is a creation of my mind. I find that more terrifying than soothing. I don't know I lot about yoga, but I'm pretty sure it's more about calm than terror. I always knew I'd be bad at yoga.

The yoga pants I bought are soooo comfortable. It is so easy to move in them (this coming from someone who wears jeans day in day out). It's like being naked, but without getting cold. And they feel really nice against my skin. They are nice and baggy, but with just the right amount of pressure around the waist to feel comfortably secure. Like they aren't going to start sliding while you're trying to hold a plank and breathe without making noises that sound like you're giving birth.

The thing is, they are so comfortable that I could quite happily wear them for the rest of my life. However, I am the kind of person who is totally against dressing as though I am on the way to the gym when I'm actually just going about normal life... It's so pretentious! In the past, I'll admit, I have dashed out to buy a pint of milk and a newspaper wearing pyjama bottoms. But in my opinion, that was acceptable, because it wasn't pretentious; I was dressed as though I was the kind of person who is a slob at the weekend. So basically, someone with a pretty normal lifestyle.

Though having said all that stuff about being pretentious, I don't actually do yoga. Never have, and probably never will. My body was most definitely not designed with yoga in mind. I wear them for circuit training (Yep! I still go!).

....And it would be nice to wear these yoga 'pants' out of the house. We'll see what happens.

In the mean time, I'd like to encourage all of you to go out and get your own pair!
(And no, they AREN'T chavvy. Unless you're wearing them behind a bus station, while swigging a can of White Star that someone in your Krew stole from the Spar down the road).

Thrifty Celebs!

2007-11-05T19:36:00.000Z

Keira Knightley and her boyfriend, Rupert Friend, share clothes! Well...more specifically, hats.... but who knows?! They may share countless other things.... (Hmm...let's not go there).

I have proof! And I think I may be the first person to realise this!

Look:

and then:

They switched hats! Probably thought they could get away with it, since it seems that they did it 2 seasons apart - summer, then winter, HOWEVER, nothing gets past me.

I could SO do this for a living. Write a celeb gossip column. Maybe.

Back off, Butterfly Boy

2007-10-27T23:12:00.000Z

Today I was helping out at a family fun event thing, and for the first time, I did face painting.

Normally, I'm not allowed anywhere near face painting (unless it's to get my own face painted), but today I decided to paint Ali's face, kiiiind of against his will.

He sat down, and I decided to paint him as Spiderman. I'd nearly finished covering his whole face with red paint, when he said, 'Oh, erm....yeah.... I once had an allergic reaction to face paint'. He said his whole face swelled up and went red and blotchy. We decided that it was a long time ago, and people tend to grow out of these 'petty' allergies. =)

It took me a while to get the web all painted on. Ruth had to step in to help at the last minute - symmetry is not one of my strong points.

When we'd finished, a little boy came up and asked if I'd do him as spiderman too. I felt obliged to do it, because all the other face painters were busy.

I got started, and he said, 'Actually, can I be half spiderman and half venom?'. I was slightly worried, as I'm really not artistic, and I wasn't sure who Venom was, and I didn't know how uncool I'd appear if I had to ask him...
I guessed that Venom was Spiderman turned evil in the 3rd film, and it turned out I was right....which was fortunate, because it meant I'd be able to paint it!

I carried on with the spiderman side, and his friend (a little boy whom Nicky was painting as a butterfly) turned around and said, 'Oy, you look really gay'.

I was thinking, 'Excuuuuuuuuse me?! Am I really going to take this coming from you - Butterfly Boy?!', but instead I just said, 'Thats coz I'm not done yet'.

By the time I'd finished doing Spiderman/Venom, Butterfly Boy had been finished and was standing watching me. As soon as I put down my paint brush, Butterfly Boy asked me to change him to Spiderman/Venom instead.

Ha! So he didn't look so gay after all!

Face painting is addictive! I did lots of kids, and then when I ran out of kids, I forced adults to have their faces painted as well.
Nicky also painted my face. I was a butterfly - but a much cooler one than Butterfly Boy.

At the moment I feel a bit like I assume Michelangelo must have felt......except with faces, and not ceilings.

=)

.....erm......OK......

2007-10-22T15:28:00.000Z

Overheard, when someone's phone rang during a lesson:

Teacher: Wow, that was loud! Who's that song by?
Student: Panic! at the Disco.
Teacher: Hmmm....I once panicked at the disco....

=/

I've become a 'thug'.

2007-10-21T17:10:00.000Z

I decided to go crazy this week. I've been depressingly predictable and respectable recently, and quite frankly, something had to be done about it.

So I went and got another piercing.

Up until last Friday, I just had one piercing in the lobe of each ear. Very conservative. Acceptable to people of my parents' generation, and even to some people of my grandparents' generation (though admittedly, not acceptable to all of my grandparents).

I'd been toying with the idea of getting a cartilage piercing on and off for years. I think it started when I was about 14, and wanted several piercings as well as other additional body modifications...(words can't express how glad I am that I didn't opt for the barbed wire tattoo around my neck.)

The cartilage piercing was the only thing that still appealed to me now...and I thought, 'Why not?'.

I knew my parents weren't too keen on the idea, but I wasn't sure whether they had just said no because they thought it was the thin end of the wedge at the time, and a possible gateway to the barbed wire tattoo.
Anyway, I asked them again, and to cut a very long story short, came to the conclusion that their main objection was on the grounds of taste - they didn't think it looked nice.

My Mum had told me several times in the past that she thought I should just wait until I left home, and then I could do whatever I liked; so, now that I am an incredibly mature, almost legal adult, I knew the kind of things they wanted to hear.

I explained that, while I knew they would prefer it if I waited until I moved out, I didn't think it would be productive to start coming up with a 'to do' list of things that I wasn't allowed to do at home that I was saving up to do at university. I pointed out that if I thought it was morally wrong, I wouldn't do it at all, wherever I was living. I reminded them that I'm currently in a very narrow margin of life in which it would be socially acceptable for me to have that particular piercing, people will dismiss it as being 'one of those student fads', and 'a phase' that I'll grow out of eventually. Once I get that inevitable high profile job, I'll probably have to take it out, as it would no longer be appropriate.
I also (childishly?!) added the fact that I didn't actually need their permission to go ahead with it, and was merely asking for their opinion in order to test the waters and establish exactly how long I may be in exile after returning home with the offending piece of jewellery.

In the end, they agreed that untimately, it was my choice. (Mum: 'I only carried it for 9 months, and let it take all the goodness out of me, but it's your body, do what you want with it, I don't care.')

Being the responsible person that I am, I researched it, completely freaked myself out, and decided that there are some occasions in life in which ignorance truly is bliss, and in which it is best to just do it and not think about the consequences (which actually demands a certain degree of maturity to realise....maybe...).

The internet warned me that cartilage piercings 'frequently' go wrong, and are one of the most dangerous to get. It said that, if done with a gun, there is a possibility of puncturing a main artery, or shattering cartilage, and that using a needle only slightly reduces these risks. It said that due to the lack of blood supply to cartilage, it is very easy for infection to set in, and that many people are hospitalised every year for cartilage infections caused by piercings.

Once I had calmed down, I remembered that it is not compulsory to believe everything you read on the internet. It also struck me as strange that it was possible to 'puncture a main artery' in an area that has a 'lack of blood supply', and that it was even possible to have a 'main artery' in your ear without it exploding from all the blood roaring through it at such high pressure. I also wondered whether it would be possible for something that isn't brittle (such as....say....ear cartilage) to shatter.

I phoned a relative who is a GP, and has been a GP for many years, and asked her how many patients she had seen with infected cartilage piercings. None. And she's seen a lot of disgusting sights over the years.

So I decided I'd done enough research, and that I would definitely get it done. However, although the internet strongly advised me to get it done in a 'proper tattoo place with a needle', I decided to opt for the gun. Call me crazy, but I'd rather not waltz into a seedy back room somewhere and allow a tattooed old man with no A Levels and any number of diseases to stab me with a needle of unknown provenance. The idea of getting it done in a shop window wasn't particularly attractive either, and I never thought I'd call the people who work in Claire's Accessories 'highly qualified', but I guess it really depends who and what you're comparing them to!
I can remember when you could get it done at Bentalls and H Samuels and other places like that, but they told me they didn't do it anymore... So in the end, the only place that would do it with a gun was Claire's Accessories. I got my first piercings done there, because I was 10 and didn't know any better, but to be honest, although they have been infected a few times, the first infection was several years after I'd got them done, and so can't realistically be blamed on Claire or the people who work in her Accessories shops.

I gathered some friends for moral support, and headed for our local branch ridiculously early so that nobody else would be around to watch through the window. I was terrified. My hands were shaking so much that my signatures on the consent forms look like they were written in arabic.

Having slandered Claire's Accessories, I've got to admit that I was actually very impressed. The lady who did it was the manager. Although the fact that she was dressed in red hotpants with fishnet tights didn't exactly inspire confidence, she really seemed to know her stuff. She explained that you can't necessarily get a cartilage piercing wherever you want, because it depends on the shape of your ear and the thickness of your cartilage. She used a 'surgical pen' to draw little dots to show me where I could have it done, and explained how to clean the piercing before she had even done it. She remembered to check my ID, but I was very conscious of the number of things she touched after she'd put the surgical gloves on, but hey...at least she was wearing them, right?

As she loaded the 'piercing system' (apparently it is standard procedure to call it that, rather than a 'gun' due to a controversy that caused all the jewellers to lose their piercing licences) I took deep breaths and tried to relax as each of my hands were stroked by friends who already had sympathetic looks on their faces. She positioned the gun, and I felt my whole body tense. I closed my eyes. I heard a loud popping/crunching sound, and felt a small sting in my ear. Then nothing. I opened my eyes, and saw three anxious faces peering back at me.
That was it!

I couldn't actually believe it was over, and I felt really pathetic for being so scared. It didn't hurt very much at all. It was just like having an injection; you're aware that something has been poked through your skin, but it's not as painful as you think it should be.

She handed me a bottle of 'Claire's Ear Care Lotion' (apparently not the same thing as surgical spirit), reminded me to keep the stud in for at least 12 weeks, and it was all over.
As I negotiaged my way to the till through all the shelves crammed with feathers and sequins and other bits of tat, my friends bounced up and down and told me how cool it looked, the manager bounced up and down and told me how cool it looked, and I bounced up and down and enjoyed the adrenaline rush.

We had literally just walked out the door, when Phelan turned and said, 'You know what? That looks so cool, I think I want one as well'.
I said, 'What?! You mean now?!'.
She thought for a grand total of about 2 seconds, and said, 'Yeah! I mean, it's not like it hurts or anything, right?'

So we headed back in for round 2.
It was only on the way out after she'd had it done that she stopped and yelled, 'OH NO!!!! WHATS MY MUM GOING TO SAY?!?!?!'

We didn't manage to convince Em to get hers done too. It was slightly more complicated with her, because she doesn't have any piercings done yet, and so she'd have to get her mum to agree first. I get the feeling that it's only a matter of time though.

On our way to the bus stop, we met Kath, who saw our new piercings, and said, 'Wow! Did it really not hurt? I'll go and get mine done next week!'

I know, I know......I'm such a trend setter.

The thing is, once I was back home, and my mother had informed me that I now look like 'a thug', my ear started to warm up, and then it started to hurt a bit. I think we were quite lucky that we had chosen a particularly frosty morning when our ears would be numb from the cold...

I've been really good at remembering to clean it and twist it though, and it only really hurts if I touch it a lot (yeah....I know....I probably shouldn't touch it at all). Yesterday at work, I momentarily forgot, and whacked the phone against my ear when I answered it. I managed not to yelp down the phone, but it did sting for about an hour after that.

Today hasn't been too bad though. I have to grit my teeth when my hair gets caught in it, but it no longer hurts if I twist it around.

So, if you've been thinking about getting yours done, my advice would be to go for it. Yes, it is more painful than a lobe piercing, but only slightly. And don't worry about getting it done with a gun - I didn't puncture a main artery, my cartilage didn't shatter or break off, and 3 days on, I still don't have an infection. My ear didn't swell at all, and the redness went away after a few hours. It is possible to sleep on that side of your head if you're very careful and have a squishy pillow that you can make a dent in, though if any of you know where I can get one of those water polo hats with the plastic ear covering thingies, please let me know.

I still don't know how long it will take to heal. In my non-medical opinion, I'd say I'm making good progress, but according to some sources, it can take up to a year before it has totally healed (though it should stop hurting sooner, and you can change the earring before then).

The only down side to it is that yo've got to have one of those really big butterfly backs on it - the same as the ones you start out with in earlobe piercings. Apparently they help to stop infection (presumably just because they are so big, they cover all the space around the piercing so no dirt can get in) but I don't know how long I'll keep it before I switch to a normal back. I mean, I wouldn't want to be hospitalised with cartilage piercing or anything like that..... ; )

I'll put a picture up when I can find the camera....

Spidey meets Jack Black.

2007-10-17T14:50:00.000Z

and one for the ladies.... =D

Mmmm

Headline for Daily Bugle: SPIDERMAN BRINGS SEXY BACK.