I SHALL ROLL MY EYES AND TRY TO REMEMBER TO BLOG....

The person I don't want to be.

2007-05-14T19:30:00.000+01:00

I started this blog post last night but I didn't get a chance to finish it and when I sat down to edit it and complete it this afternoon, I looked at the one sentence that I'd written and I pressed the delete button very firmly. I wished for that line that I'd written to actually have been true but the more I think about it the more uncertain I become.

I hate the person I've become, the person that is ignoring everything around her because it hurts to simply think about it any more. This person, that is not me, is knowingly hurting someone that they care about but has come to the conclusion that whilst she cares for this person, she can not now, and probably could never utter those fateful three words to this person and actually mean them. This person thought that they could block out previous love ties and has been trying so hard to get her head to override her heart but it isn't working. This person, is some stranger that is allowing this hurt to be inflicted when she never would have done before.

Somehow I've become separated from everything that used to be me, and whilst I may appear as if I'm functioning normally, what goes on in my mind would scare even the most brave person. When you realise that you are operating as two different people, one to the outside world, and one in your mind, it becomes apparent that there are just parts of you that you just can't let people know about. I used to be scared of being myself and perhaps I still am, perhaps that's why I'm letting this pain that I'm inflicting carry on.

I thought that my biggest fear in the world was failing, but I'm wrong. I'm most afraid of those three words that spin the world on its axis. I fear them, because I don't know whether I will ever be able to return them to anyone. My insides turn to jelly when I hear them, but not in a good way, they turn to jelly because I fear someone asking me to reciprocate them.

When you know that you have loved someone but that they never felt the same way, does that somehow make you incapable of loving another? You see, I wish I had the answers to all the questions that cascade through my mind but I don't, and that's the worst part of all. I need to banish this horrible person that is currently residing inside me and resolve everything regardless of the pain it will cause because otherwise I am only going to cause more pain, both for myself and the other party involved.

FREEDOM IS ONLY BUT A DAY AWAY!!!!

2007-05-07T00:40:00.000+01:00

I haven't blogged in awhile, and I'd like to say that that was because I've been so busy with revision but I can't possibly say that as it would be a blatant lie. So, instead I shall offer no excuses! I think that the most peculiar series of events have created some really good luck for me over the past week, although certain things that I would like to have happened, haven't, and so life isn't quite as great as it could be, but oh well, I'll settle for ok at the moment. Afterall, if every thing's great then what have I got to hope for?!

Strike of luck one: My Dad and step mum are going away to Crete on Tuesday (but are staying at hotel in Gatwick the night before so I have a grand total of 8 nights without them here!). This means of course that I am exercising my God given birth right, to have a party in their absence! It is though, all above board because my Dad knows about it, so I haven't got to fear him accidentally finding out by me dropping myself in it.

This was strike of luck two. Today, (as in Sunday, I haven't slept yet so for me it's all the same day!) I worked for 3 1/2 hours, which is the first time in over two weeks. I got my tips- all £36.40 of it! I was chuffed because all though it doesn't sound a lot, at the moment the money is very much in need!

Luck strike three. Well, I deem it to be luck anyway. Because, I'm looking after the animals and the house while my Dad is away, I've managed to convince Kim into getting my Dad to agree to give me the money to buy Jodi Picoult's new book which I will be getting in Waterstone's tomorrow! (I keep wanting to call it Ottakars- Damn takeover bids, they ruin evenything!)

The only bad thing today that happened actually made me inadvertently acknowledge another strike of good luck. I had cleared a table at work and stacked five plates and four soup bowls on top of one another which created a multi-storey tower block, which I was intending to carry out to the kitchen. Well, intended is the operative word here! I didn't realise that one plate was ever so slightly smaller and, yes you guessed it, the whole fucking lot went down. I did however, become aware that it was slipping in time for me to be able to move quickly to an empty table before it crashed. And as luck would have it, NOT ONE SINGLE BLOODY PLATE OR BOWL BROKE! They simply bounced, and my boss who just so happened to be standing behind me, simply helped me pick them all up and didn't even tell me off!

Tomorrow (as in after I wake up in about 7 hours time!), I am going to town with Tom to go to Waterstone's in Bury where Jodi Picoult is signing books! I couldn't believe it when Hannah told me about it back in March sort of time, and it seemed such a long time away but now here it is. It's weird to think that an author that has gained such a high readership all over the world, will actually be stopping off in the small and insignificant town of Bury St. Edmunds that is my home town. I'm actually really excited, and I knew that as soon as Hannah told me about the promotional book signing that I would indeed be going. As luck would have it, it's a bank holiday but needless to say, because you can guess, I would have gone regardless missing English Lit/ Business/ whatever it took to be able to go!

I'm rather excited also about the fact that I have the whole house to myself for the whole week and so can have my mates up whenever I like! This means that as usual I am intending to meet up with Tom, Lindz and Sarah which'll be good, as we haven't ALL meet up in over a week now which by our recent standards is quite a long time. Perhaps I might buy some cake to celebrate being able to have the house to myself!

It is quite possible that I wouldn't blog again for a considerable length of time as I am intending to try and get as much revision done as humanly possible as I REALLY DO want to pass my A levels this year. I think I'd be stupid to try and rely on this good luck that's been gracing me over the past few days don't you?!

Calm

2007-04-27T16:34:00.000+01:00

Today marks the fact that now there are only 28 days left until the end of sixth form. That means in other words there are only 20 actual school days or 120 lessons. I thought that in theory I should be absolutely shitting myself with worry about the impending exams and my rather lax attitude towards my A levels this year, but I'm not. How can it be that although I am completely dependent on the grades that result in the exams that I shall take this summer, I am not in the slightest bit worried at this moment in time?

I have only read Byron once, I have read hardly any poems in preparation for the synoptic unit and even then I can't remember the poets, I know next to nothing about the editorial unit for language and even less about the change in grammar usage over time, I can't remember what Roger Brown's meaning relations are, I am unlikely to remember the writing frame for unit 5's business exam, corporate strategy is pretty damn evasive if you ask me and to complete the whole circuit I have virtually no recollections of what unit 4's exam entails...

I'm not scared though. At the end of the day, if it happens then it happens. If it doesn't and I fail miserably then at least I will know that it was all my own fault for not taking the time I should have done back at the beginning. If it doesn't work out then I'll simply have to try again. Is this the tone of pessimism, I hear you ask? No, it is merely acceptance of whatever the future holds for me.

Monopoly...

2007-04-26T18:41:00.000+01:00

Monopoly? This word had, until a few days ago, come to be just a word that I would use to describe a market where one main company had over 25% of the market share (which is illegal and attracts unwanted attention from the Competition committee). So, you may ask why I have decided to entitle my post with this word. Well, first let me assure you that this has absolutely nothing to do with Business studies! The appearance of the monopoly game board in the library, amongst other games, has come to replace the 'general waste of time loads of noise and lack of work' culture that has recently become inherent in study periods.

So, instead we are left with a gaming culture of 'Don't cheat, Nicola!'. I never did play proper monopoly when I was a child, and so I have refrained from taking part in these pointless competitive gaming sessions, but they make me laugh. Board games have always held little appeal for me it has to be said, but I guess that's because when they were probably a big part of family life in other people's childhood, I was too busy having to grow up. Now, I mean this with absolutely no disdain upon other people, but just that I regret not having that simple family time. I never did have 'my' game piece in monopoly, nor did I ever always pick a character in Cluedo.

I find it surprisingly calming to watch my fellow sixth formers playing board games during study, because it means that despite the fact that there are only four weeks left until we leave, these people know that there is no point working all the time because they will burn out. For this reason I am planning to complete my revision questions for Business this evening and then probably write some more of my book. I haven't written for ages it has to be said, and to be completely honest I haven't done a lot of revision or homework over the past few days either.

I was going to write this post yesterday, after the crappy business trip I went on but the nasty headache that developed made me shy away from facing my laptop. It actually practically forced me to bed at 4:30 in the afternoon, and I slept for about two hours. Upon waking though my head settled down to a bearable pain, which unfortunately is still with me now. Yes, about the business trip...Pointless. That pretty much sums it up. Of all the exotic locations in the world, for our business trip we took the long haul jaunt to...Stanton. Yes you did read right. We went to DHL exel supply chain. There followed an hour an a half of boredom. We had a presentation delivered by the head of HR about the origins of the business (different segments and who founded it) and a typical country bloke who spoke about his experiences in the business as it had changed (acquisitions and different cultures etc). This mind-numbingly boring experience was then followed by an impromptu question and answer session, although by this point most of us had fallen asleep and were "longing" for the tour. As it turned out, the highlights of the tour were wearing high-vis jackets and walking across the grounds in a path marked out by yellow lines and footprints.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful about the business trip because after all I know that it takes a lot of organising on the teacher's part and it was good of the business to let us go there but come on. DHL were only allowing us there because it is part of the 'corporate responsible' persona that they wish to promote, I mean they might as well have screamed it at us bearing in mind they were taking photos of us whilst we were being shown what they 'do' on site! Unsurprisingly, with a cracking headache I was not suitably enthralled by the process of gluing glass panels into a door, nor was I particularly impressed with traveling up countless flights of steps just to walk through a corridor/open plan room and then walk back down!

ENGLISH LANGUAGE AMONG OTHER THINGS...

2007-04-24T16:35:00.000+01:00

After I had been writing a whole load of bollocks about grammar change and all that sort of shit, in English Language this afternoon, I kind of gave up. I looked at the sheet and wondered what the hell I was doing writing about something that I really didn't know a great deal about. It sort of struck me that whilst I had a very limited amount of knowledge and understanding of what was being said, someone else in another 200 years might also sit in a classroom and grimace at the crappy word order and inflections etc.

From there, my mind leapfrogged. Flying off into a thousand different directions, I will admit I had an extremely hard job keeping up with my brain. It was like one of those moments when you sit in a proper exam and your mind somehow links all sorts of random shit together and then you find yourself thinking about something all together different from what you started with. I've often found that this bizarre form of daydreaming has a detrimental effect upon my attention and ultimately upon the grades that I eventually achieve at the end of courses, yet today it was the kind of mild relief that I needed.

I've never been the kind of person that can just get on with work the moment its set. In classes, I have a tendency to start before the task in explained, which I know is a conscious decision I made a long time ago because I don't like to start at exactly the same time as everyone else. Starting before others, means that I can also in theory finish before the majority too, and that is the time I like most. I find that this is when I can consciously let my mind wander. Sometimes the lyrics of long forgotten songs will come back to me during this time, or an unsubstantial quote from a book will float around my head. These things taunt me, and I have to then root through the deepest recesses of my brain until I can locate the sources. Hence the leapfrogging from one topic to another.

It is so easier then to be transported back to memories that you thought that you'd forgotten, and for this reason among others, I believe that as people we simply do not forget things in life. Ok, you might not initially be able to bring a particular memory to the surface, but that doesn't mean its not there. To my mind the brain is one large storage box, and you simply have to access the right file to find what you are looking for, a bit like a computer I suppose. My mind wandering tendencies are for me like the search facility on windows, enter in a couple of words and all sorts of things re-emerge.

My thought process this afternoon...

What the fuck is that " 'est" ending doing on the end of that word? I hate English Language- why did I ever bother taking it?
I used to enjoy English, but then that was during main school. I hated the English lessons at middle school.
Year seven Romeo and Juliet with Mr Corbett.
Drama on a Friday morning. Play-acting a fight against Georgia where I accidentally slapped her hard on the cheek during a performance!
Why did Fridays operate differently at middle school?
We went to six lessons that day due to not having form period! That's why the lessons were shorter.
That's why we had drama at that time and why I liked the fact that P.E in year 8 was lesson four Friday
With Miss Grandjean. Netball: "Put the bibs on upside down please." "Upside down? Are you sure miss?!"
France trip- "I couldn't find any rubber sheets, will this do?" Miss Grandjean passing us a wad of toilet paper. Us falling into utter hysterics.
I wander what ever happened to Rachel Pryer? "Have I got something around my mosh?"
Why didn't Lindz bother to stay in contact with her?
I suppose it's like me not talking to Nats anymore.
It's going to happen again isn't it? Moving on to other places, other friends and no time for what we once were.
Uni. Why do I really wanna go to Essex...?
Things will change though because I have changed and am going to change.
What if Sarah's right about me coming back?
Then again she's already changed...what if that happens to me so that they no longer recognise ME?

At this point my mental ramblings were abruptly ended by Shem asking whether we'd finished for the lesson and at Bailey's reply of "Yes", I decided that it was time to rejoin the civilised world and abandon my trek down memory lane and the 'what if...?' track.

Just 31 days to go

2007-04-23T23:05:00.000+01:00

Crunch time. Bite the bullet. Etch the words into your brain. Abandon your social life. Refuel with caffeine. Cramp your hand from writing. Snatch minutes of sleep.

Work until you spontaneously combust.

Since when do you have the right to tell me what I can say?

2007-04-19T23:56:00.000+01:00

Tonight was shit. See, it's just so easy to sum up what happened in those few words, and yet it's so hard to make myself explain anymore than that because I don't, for some reason, want to write about the details of my private life for once. Normally, I don't give a fuck about what I say but usually I suppose things don't move me to tears.

Stress builds up slowly and things had crept up on me without me really noticing. Little things that once run together create one HUGE problem. I had an argument with my dad just because I told my mum the truth about something. How stupid is that? Since when has my dad actually had the right to try and censor what I tell anyone, let alone my own mother?! Sensing that the mood was only going to deteriorate and in turn create a blazing row, I went upstairs got changed, picked up my ipod, keys and phone and went for a walk. At this point I didn't actually realise just how upset the row had made me.

I made the fatal mistake of phoning Tom. Upon hearing his voice I found tears welling up and one huge great big lump rising to my throat. It didn't matter how hard I tried to quell the tears, there was no deterring the torrents of tears that decided to fall and smudge my makeup. Tom, bless him, met up with me and sat talking through everything with me, and I can't actually convey in words the enormity of this gesture. (Thanks Tom!)

It really is remarkable when you know that you have friends that you can count on to call up at a moments notice, and know that they will literally drop what they are doing just to be there for you. I think that made me cry too. Hearing his voice on the other end of the phone just unlocked all the pent-up emotions that I'd tried to ignore.

I could go on for pages about everything that is wrong but suffice to say it is not exactly stuff that I want to go around broadcasting, so I shall end with a thought for you:

"When you need someone, who can you truly count on to be there for you?"

And with my third pair of hands I'll bring you your fucking carrots... now which table did you want me to tap dance on next?!

2007-04-14T01:10:00.000+01:00

Don't you just hate it when you get stuck being FOUR people at once?! Last night this happened to me, and as a consequence I am knackered. (Which means that I can't be bothered to construct a long blog, instead I am going to listen to some music and fall asleep doing so)

Thought I should probably add the fact that I do actually only have ONE pair of hands (a fact that my boss still hasn't grasped!), and that I wasn't actually asked to tap dance on anyone's table...I think you can probably guess what my reply would have been if they had of done!

1:49 AM

2007-04-13T01:48:00.000+01:00

It's in the wee early hours of the morning when memories come back to you. Like remembering all the times I sat up until 5am or later in the summer holidays. I sometimes wish that you could preserve whole memories, you know box them up, seal them and store them at the back of your wardrobe. Then when you find them three or four months later, you could slip the seal and smile in delight in finding it again, in much the same way I always do when I eventually get around to putting up presents that I've received for Christmas/Birthdays. (This year it took me over three months to get round to putting everything up after Christmas, and I found things that I didn't even realise I'd received!)

It sometimes seems, that when the good things are happening it doesn't matter how hard you try to drink in and appreciate every little detail, the hope of being able to recall it all at a later date is somewhat limited. The bad things, however, seem to just pickle with age. Like an onion, bad memories are still harsh and sometimes the vinegar of hindsight penetrates adding to the overall unpleasant experience. Perhaps an onion isn't the best metaphor I've ever come up with, but you can understand the gist.

Unfortunately I think it is probably because when something is good, you don't realise just how good it is until later. You expect to have plenty more chances to relive similar times, but sooner or later the times will be gone and all that you'll have left are the memories. The memories that fade and wither like an old flower. Nostalgic sadness is sweeping over me as I'm writing this and remembering the simple fun that I had to today with Tom, Lindz and Sarah.

I can't help but think that in the not so distant future, the memories will be all that I have left to placate me when bouts of homesickness hit. The slideshow of fragmented pictures and snippets of conversation will be on repeat play in my head, reminding me not only of what I've left behind but also of the driving force of these people. They say that in this life, you can have all the money in the world, but it isn't worth a penny if you haven't got people in your life that you can laugh with and that will pick you up whenever you fall.

But then if I could remember everything would it really help or would things hurt even more? I suppose I shall never know, but what I do know is that we've always been there for one another despite the fact that we've all gone our separate ways. When we meet now, it's just like the old days. I can say anything, and so can they, for we're grown accustomed to each other's little ways and we're comfortable with our group dynamics. Whether it's been two days or two months since we've seen one another, we fit back together like pieces in a jigsaw, which is all that memories are really. Memories just bridge the gap between what is and what was. So, these people are my memories for the past and future.

Wow! That was one hell of a ramble, congratulations for your perseverance if you got this far, but if not...well then you just missed out on one hell of a long piece of randomn shit!

Ha!

2007-04-04T19:58:00.000+01:00

I pose to you a question which I doubt you shall be able to guess the answer to:
"Exactly how many words does it take to make me happy?"

To be honest this is a bit of a trick question as I'm not going to reveal (until next time I decide to blog!) the context these words had to be in to have the desired effect upon me! Suffice to say after seconds of hearing/receiving the set amount of words a smile adorned my face despite the fact that I was completely knackered. (See I'm not going to give you any clues about how these words came out to me!)

And so we wait and we wait...and we wait some more...

2007-03-31T18:39:00.000+01:00

It probably doesn't surprise you to read that my email inbox stills remains devoid of any messages from the person I wish to receive them from. To say that it bugs me would be one of the biggest understatements of this century or very possibly this millennium, but there is nothing I can do but to wait because I am catergorically refusinging to email/text/ring/prank/write or attempt to communicate with the said person for at least a month or until they contact me, whichever comes first. Problem is that I have a hunch about which one will end up happening, don't you?!

Anyway, it strikes me as funny to think that it is now Easter 2007. This means that in little more than 55 days the year thirteen of 2007 will be no more. We will have left. It doesn't seem that long ago that I sat worrying with Tom, Lindz and Sarah for practically every day of the summer holidays about whether I had done well enough in my GCSE's to be able to go to sixth form, yet now the time has come around again. Like the summer of 2005 that was filled with long hot summer nights that stretched out before us and held so much promise, the summer of 2007 shall do the same, only this time a lot more will rest on it...At the moment everything seems so detached even though it is a recurring topic in conversations, and to be honest I don't really want to think that in just under 8 weeks it will be reality. But what's worse, the fact that it is only 55 days until we leave sixth form or the fact that in 146 days we shall know whether we can go to our preferred university choice? I know which one I prefer to think about...

Well fuck you then!

2007-03-28T00:30:00.000+01:00

The title of this post has no relevance to the contents but instead are the words that I would so like to send in an email to a certain person. Yet I shall not dwell upon that subject until the last paragraph of this post!

Well the weekend seems like ages ago now. Sunday was work. To sum it up? I swore a lot after dropping cutlery, got told by a customer that I should tell my boss to "Fucking piss off" and got my tips! With 'X' amount in tips and my wages, I decided that my weekly meet up with Tom, Lindz and Sarah would be better than usual. Now, it's fair to say that the majority of my wages get spent on Mondays on drinks but it creates memories that I will keep with me for years. Tell me where I can get better value for money in any shop or savings account and I'll be very surprised.

After much deliberation we decided to grace bury cinema with our presence and watched 'Ghost Rider'. The total audience turnout wasn't a good indicator of a rating for the film it has to be said. Including me, Tom and Lindz there were 8 people. The film turned out to be quite good but didn't end the way I wanted it to. I won't spoil the ending but suffice to say that when love gives you the strength to do things you wouldn't normally do, shouldn't you do everything in your power to keep it? A jaunt down to the pub afterwards swiftly followed with Sarah and her staff now in our company. Gandalf (Sarah) did create the funniest moment of the evening though when she was slagging off the judges from the beauty competition that she'd been in, and when they were only a few paces in front of us.

These nights are magic that I wouldn't swap for all the money in the world, because afterall what is the point in being rich if you have no one to share it with? Long may the magic conjured up leave me with a happy reminiscent feel. The Summer of the Shed 2005! Dinner parties! Getting so drunk that you can't see straight to walk home!

This afternoon as I was walking home after an annoying English Language lesson, the resolve to sort out things in my life took over. The sun was shining and it made me feel positive about my ability to change things that were wrong and to be able to achieve what I want to. Unfortunately this feeling quite often accompanies my journey home, especially when the sun is out, and when I get home I find myself suddenly become lethargic and my motivation gone. Happily from my tidy bedroom I can report that this time I actually have started on the route to improvement. I decided to tackle the biggest problem which was my bedroom and the state that it was in. For the rest of the improvements it is unfortunately going to mean that my writing is pushed out of the way to make way for higher priorities, but I know that if I put it aside and concentrate on passing my A levels with the best possible results, then I can write to my heart's content over the summer without major uncertainty of my grades. (Of course no matter how hard I try for exams and how well they seem to go, I know I will still convince myself over the weeks following that I have failed!)

Now the subject. I can not abide the fact that people don't reply to emails that are actually of importance. I quote this from an email last year from a companion of mine "I've been meaning to email you for a long time but have actually been incredibly busy". This was after not replying to my eight emails in four months. How is it really possible to be too busy to make a little time to reply to a friend? Am I perhaps being a little unfair to expect other people to share my opinion of 'there's always time for a friend in need'? It has only (only!) been three weeks that I've been waiting for a reply, but the time seems to stretch like an eternity. I feel like sending just those four words to the person in question, but I know I'll never have the guts to do it. Just like the fact that I didn't have the guts to question the reason behind not contacting me to see if I was ok after the emails I'd sent last year. Love has a funny hold over me. My brain can't override my heart. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that if this person cared for me then they wouldn't treat me like this and that I should leave well alone, I can't do it. Most of the time I can push the thoughts aside and fool myself into thinking that I am 100% over the certain person, but the more that I try to do this the more I feel like I'm sinking. So, although I can never say it to their face or write it for them to see and know that it's directed to them, I shall say it now:

WELL FUCK YOU THEN!

In a crowd of friends...

2007-03-24T01:52:00.000Z

A phenomena that has always puzzled me is how it is possible to sit amongst loads of people and still feel lonely. I think the clarification needed here is that it is possible to feel both emotionally and mentally isolated when physically it couldn't be further from the truth.

Sometimes I get this whole feeling of detachment when I feel like I don't belong anywhere, it comes out of the blue sometimes but other times I can feel it building. When I feel the latter beginning to happen I tend to overcompensate by actively involving myself so as to stave off the feeling, but this inevitably doesn't work for long. The feeling of isolation and being alien overcomes me when my resolve to fight wavers. Finding that nothing will suffice you emotionally is not a nice feeling to have, nor to admit to. If I was to admit to feeling this at times, then I know that I would, unintentionally, hurt people's feelings. To be honest no-one wants to be told that whilst they've been talking to me I feel lonely, do they?! Sometimes it's like having a lose connection that breaks at unpredictable times. I don't want my friends to be offended and feel like that they are not good enough for me, when really its me that's not good enough for them. The feeling of inadequacy grows, and a bubble surrounds me. I interact minimally and appear vacant, yet there is nothing I can physically do to pull myself out of it.

This happened tonight, so I'd just like to apologise to my friends for me acting like a pleb. I'm sorry. I've been having a few rough days emotionally, yet it's things that no one else can help me with so please don't worry.

Can someone please stop me from getting so annoyed?!

2007-03-10T21:36:00.000Z

I do hate it when I realise that I'm about to do exactly what I said I wasn't going to do. I'm blogging literally hours after I wrote a long piece of utter shit and concluded it by saying that I wasn't going to blog as much. The thing is I've become increasingly pissed off over these past few days. What annoys me even more is the fact that I should know better. The whole stickler for communicating and keeping to your word, is pissing me off again, or more rightly the fact that someone else can't do this.

There are people in this world that ask for certain pieces of information, like for example if someone told you to tell them your exam grades, and then when you do, they don't bother to reply. (That was just a hypothetical example) It is just plain rudeness in my opinion. Why ask if you don't want to know the answer? Why pretend you're interested if you're not? Why ask the question if you're not going to listen or respond to the answer? I hate the fact that people do this in life. We do it to one another every day. You meet an acquaintance and say "How are you?" When to be honest most of the time we don't care. We ask this question because it's been ingrained in us that it is the polite thing to do. By the time the other person starts to reply the person who asked the question has already mentally filled in the answer and is thinking of something else.

These people that treat us with contempt in this way, don't care about us. But unfortunately some of the time we care so much about the other person that we pretend we don't know. When you care deeply about someone and know that your feelings are not reciprocated, the majority of the time you feel lucky to have the friendship and therefore gloss over their inconsiderate nature. You can't complain about someone else's lack of interest in your life, when you know that you're lucky to be friends with the said person anyway and the thought of them not being in your life at all is unbearable. Just because you wish to know every single little detail in their life, it does not unfortunately mean that they feel the same.

You see I know this yet it doesn't make it any better. It's perhaps even worse, because I know how I shouldn't feel but I still feel it. I shouldn't be upset because I should know better. By now I thought I would have got used to the fact that humans are very selfish in their nature and I won't change the said person. One day I will be able to rise above the comments or lack of them as the case may be. Until that day I know I will still be disappointed.

I will continue to get annoyed by the empty message box and the lack of text messages in reply. The problem is that now I'm pissed off with myself more than the person I should be pissed off with. Plus as soon as the said person decides to reply I will completely forgive them for their lack of communication. Mentally I have already made up hundreds of excuses to forgive them. Because that's the one thing I do know: I will forgive them, in fact I'll probably always forgive them.

£15.50 for the pleasure? Should have just spent the money on booze!

2007-03-10T15:54:00.000Z

The results came through and it was a mixed bag.

English Language 'Texts in Context' was brilliant. I managed to get a high 'B' which is a major improvement from the 'E' I got on that paper last year. It means that my AS grade is now a 'B', so hooray! Amusing isn't it that I managed to pass the paper with a brilliant grade by teaching myself, when last year I was supposedly taught and failed spectacularly!

Now here comes the exam that I might as well have not bothered with entering. English Literature 'The Modern Novel'. Otherwise known as 'Spies'. I hate this particular text but I didn't do very well in the exam last year and was tempted into re-sitting the exam by the fact that I was only 7 marks off an 'A' at AS. The allure of being so close to an 'A' mainly stemmed from the fact that I wanted to beat a certain person and would have loved to phone them up on the 16th August and told them that I had better A levels than them. Now I see that this is unlikely because I didn't even improve my grade by one mark! I didn't feel very well in the exam which I know isn't a very valid excuse, but I really thought that I had managed to write enough to gain the few extra marks I needed. So I am stuck with 54 marks on the spies paper which is a low 'C'. Fuck.

Business? I did absolutely appallingly. The problem is I only have myself to blame. I didn't do anywhere near as much revision as I should have done, in fact I don't think flicking through notes the night before the exam really even counts as revision. I just got a 'C' in the exam. Needless to say I'm going to re-sit the exam and hopefully if I actually revise sufficiently then I may still be on target for the 'A' I've been predicted. I mean I don't need an 'A', but it would be nice to be able to say that I got an 'A' at A level. The extra 20 UCAS points that an 'A' provides may also be nice to cushion the blow from other subjects!

So henceforth I am going to more or less become a hermit. I need to get into Uni, and because Essex is the only place I want to go, I need to get the grades. Determination. Perseverance. Sheer bloody mindedness. The awareness that A levels are hard for a reason and that perhaps I won't sail through them. All of this combined is what is driving me. So, in the next few months if you try and contact me and get no response then just wait for me and I promise I will eventually reply. I also promise that it will be worth it just to see the beam on my face when I get decent grades on the 16th August 2007!

This also means that blog updates may be even more few and far between!

Small things make me wonder

2007-03-07T19:02:00.000Z

I've always believed that it is the small things that you know about people that mean you really know them, and I experienced this first hand yesterday. I learnt something yesterday about someone, which although it was something small and seemingly insignificant, it made me wonder just how much I actually know this person. It seems silly but finding this thing out has completely changed my opinion of this person and that saddens me. I've always admired the person in question, and even though I was never under any illusions that they were perfect, I just never expected to find out that they were so inconsiderate.

Anyway, what has happened over the past few days?
I've been seriously working on my English Language investigation (I have not been falsifying results!!!!). Now here comes my rant about this. Could you clarify for me, just how exactly are we supposed to be able to submit a piece of coursework that will get a good grade or achieve good grades in the exams if the teachers never turn up?! Imagine how pissed off I was yesterday afternoon when I had to trek over to the inclusion room in main school just to get my English teacher to have a read through my work when I should actually have had a lesson with the said teacher at the same time!

Re-sit and January exam results come through tomorrow and it's more than fair to say that I'm apprehensive. If I've got bad grades I shall be seriously pissed off as I paid £31 for the privilege of sitting the exams, and of course I need better grades to cushion the fall of marks that I shall have suffered this year with all the effort that I haven't been putting in!

If I don't post my results on here in the next two days then it's fair to assume that I don't want to talk about the disaster but otherwise I shall let you know.

I have no regrets

2007-03-05T00:12:00.000Z

This isn't the post that I half thought I would be writing but then my head has been thinking things that I didn't think I would be thinking. Yesterday stirred up emotions that I thought were dormant and I was left pondering. To cut a long story short I found that I'm not ready to embark upon a relationship. It has nothing to do with Steve, or how he treated me but more to do with the fact that I want to be free. It's one of those weird things like when you were younger and you pestered your parents for an ice cream because everyone else had one, but then when they finally gave in and you got one, it didn't taste anywhere near as good as it looked. I don't want the pressure of being tied to someone else at the moment, and more to the point with the way my emotions have been over the past couple of months I don't think its fair to inflict sharing that with anyone. As I said in an earlier post this year, I'm going to relish my time being single and wait until I am 100% sure about someone before I venture out into the relationship stakes.

There was a large part of me that wanted to be an item with the guy I was with yesterday, but I know that I would have been lying to myself if I had of agreed. The guy wanted me, that might sound like I'm being egotistical but I'm not, and he was a really sweet guy but... He was naive in the way the world worked if that makes sense and he wanted so much more from me than what I could realistically give. I found myself cringing a couple of times at his naivety. I was honest with him and told him I wasn't ready for a relationship, I couldn't prolong his agony, and even though I felt awful doing it I said I'd still like to be friends. It occurred to me that perhaps I liked the idea of being part of a couple but not the real life item with this guy.

And spring is in the air along with everything that comes with it

2007-02-28T17:02:00.000Z

The world has started spinning again, yet this time I'm not going to allow myself to crash to the ground with a thud. Expect a post on this after Saturday.

Right this is going to be a short post as I'm not feeling great and I can't be bothered to write anything long or remotely profound. I wish to promote my other blog: http://home-of-jen.co.nr
Please visit it, I wish to share my poetry and thoughts on books!

Welcome to the new era of technology

2007-02-23T23:09:00.000Z

I am wireless. Sitting on the sofa and haplessly tapping away on the keyboard, that's what I've been doing for the past 'x' amount of hours. I haven't really finished anything I have to admit. I started an email, which I've wanted to send for well over two months now but I haven't had the opportunity. Daft as hell it is now, but I have the internet and have the ability to sit here and hit send but I can't find the words to express what I want to say.

It is now only twelve days until the results of January's resits and exams will be published, and to be honest I think that I shall end up re-sitting these exams yet again in June. Coursework from Lit and language still sits in its uncompleted state and will do so until I can be bothered to work on them. I have been writing for my book, yet I have not finished the first one and am working more solidly on the second! Read my other blog to find out more thoughts on my book.

Why oh why am I deprived of the internet?

2007-02-13T13:45:00.000Z

I am officially fed up. I do not know how I have managed to go this long without having internet access at home. It is sending me into despair. I can no longer write long complicated posts as I am suffering from the lack of practice. Currently I am sitting in Bury library as this is the only place, aside from Thurston's library, that I can access the internet without having to bother anyone else. I have yet to actually properly start my English Language coursework, and I attribute this shortcoming of my to the lack of internet research that I have been able to do. Then, again, the fact that I have completely lost faith in TCC's English department is also a large contributing factor. THEY LOST MY FUCKING COURSEWORK DRAFT! THEY LOST IT!

As you might have guessed this pissed me off. I shall have to reprint it. Bugger. The problem is that I wasted over a week waiting for one of the teachers to actually read it only to find that it had been lost in that time. I hate TCC. I hate the English department. I hate the fact that I am having to sit in the library and update my blog. I hate the fact that my blog is seriously out of date. I hate the fact that I have been questioned twice about my age in this library. I hate the fact that it is no longer essential to be quiet in a library. I hate the fact that some stupid brats keep singing and shouting and I have a thumping headache. I hate the fact that I am moaning so much.

Half term has so far been a waste of time. When I could have been writing poetry and submitting it on my new blog, I have been doing virtually nothing. I am pissed off that I have been ill in half term too. I am trying to write more of my novel and am attempting to progress within the story which includes intergrating/rewriting parts of extracts that I've previously written.

A lot of rubbish has happened since the last time that I blogged. Exams are over, well at least until May, and I have to say that all in all they weren't great! I am getting behind in work and progressively worried at the daunting prospect of uni. But on this last point I have come to a conclusion. If I do not get the grades for Essex and they won't let me in with lower grades, then I have resolved to resit the whole year! I most definitely do not want to have to go to A.R.U.

That is it for now, as I have but 3mins left of my 1/2hr allowed. I am however going to log-on again (naughty aren't I?!) so that I can send emails that are way overdue! Oops! Well it's not really my fault is it?!

I've had enough of all this shit

2007-01-15T20:38:00.000Z

The exam season has once again descended down upon Thurston Six Form, filling the air with anxiety and hushed whispers. This time last year I was still one of those poor naive year twelves that thought nothing of the exams. Now I can sit here and safely say that I despise exams in any shape or form and never for the life of me thought that I would have willingly subjected myself to sitting exams that I didn't have to sit, and even more distressing is the fact that I actually spend £31 of my hard earned cash for this privilege.

Thankfully my English Language- Language in Context exam is over and done with. That being said, I didn't perform anywhere near like what I would have wished to. The texts were ok, but bugger me if I couldn't find a fitting way to apply the grammatical frameworks that I knew would get me the marks. So, resigning myself to the fact that I may have to fork out even more money to take the exam once again in June, I sat and wrote seven pages of utter shit.

'It reeks of sexual urgency', just as much the second time as it did the first. Frayn should watch his back as I swear that his stupid 'Spies' was designed to torture A level students and therefore I know that if I was to see him then... I shall say no more so that I can never be quoted if any misfortune was to grace Frayn within the immediate time frame of this blog being published. Suffice to say that I am resitting the exam on Wednesday morning and am praying that I can get a better grade this time. I need to get over 65 marks to be happy this time. That will mean that I shall have an 'A' to take forward from AS to A2. In an ideal world though, of course I would get higher than that as that would be me more firmly into the position I really want to be in. To get an 'A' in English Literature A level would mean the world to me, and so to that end I will finish this post and get on with 'revising'!

I'm making up for lost time

2007-01-04T19:29:00.000Z

Whilst I'm still able to blog I shall fill up the time and update what I have been doing. Well, I spent the time between the 23rd and the 1st, not completely sober. Admittedly during this time I was not always completely pissed, but suffice to say that if you had of said to me 'get in a car', then my response would have been absolutely not. I relished the whole experience and freedom of spending a Christmas at my Dad's where the alcohol I was consuming was in no way monitored. This is not to say that my Dad doesn't care what I drink, but he treats me as the adult that I nearly am. (Only six months!) Having said all this, it did enable me to forget about a certain person (and I perhaps might have left a drunken message on his phone ONCE and prank called him a few other times but...that's all part and parcel of forgetting, yes?!) and I ended up going into work after having a few drinks twice. Yes, it was a case of having drunk before I went out to work as I hadn't actually slept the night before. No one noticed though and I laugh at this now, because I think that I just might possibly have been better at my job when I am drunk than I am when I am stone cold sober!

Christmas was dismal to be honest, as there is only so much I can put up with! I sat all day longing to be able to sit on the computer on messenger allday, and I would have done if anyone had of been online. I also came to te conclusion that I don't actually miss Steve. I miss his presence. I miss the continous stream of pointless but lovely none the less text messages. I miss knowing that someone is thinking of me. I miss being able to know that I could lounge in someone's arms. But having said all this, I don't actually miss him as a person. I don't miss him anywhere near like I miss having other people in my life. A certain person who I know that I still hanker after because he represents everything I want from a guy, is someone who I miss a hell of a lot more.

Now I have school work that I should be getting done, but the fact that I managed to complete my English lit coursework in time for the end of last term pleased me greatly! I need to however do some actual work on my lang coursework as I have so far done absolutely nothing. This doesn't seem like much of a problem but when you consider we've been given lesson time do be doing this since September, you would have thought that I would have at least got something done!

Better go now, although another post will be coming soon. Just as soon as I can be bothered to compile a post that has some kind of meaning!

I hate the time when I can't just log on to the net as and when I want to!

2007-01-04T19:23:00.000Z

Just as I had started to get my blog sorted and update it regularly, I had the internet cruelly swiped from my grasp by my mother. I still have no internet connection at home and it annoys the hell out of me.Currently I am sitting at Tom's as he's been kind enough to let me use his internet, but other than this I have had nothing to do with the internet since that fateful day. My phone has its uses, ie. to be able to check my emails from one account but it will not load blogger! How fucking annoying is that?! I detest trying to blog from the library computers as well, as it is damn near impossible to type properly with the enter key being just as temporamental as the connection in main school. From another internet account that I couldn't check on my phone, I was distressed to find that my spam filter may as well be non-existent, as I had over 50 emails of complete and utter shite after only having deleted the last lot on Christmas day!

2007

2007-01-04T19:21:00.000Z

It really is possible to waste the whole of the Christmas holidays. When faced with the fact that you have a whole fifteen days off it stretches like an eternity, yet here I am sitting here knowing that I should be in bed because yet again I am facing going back to the shithole. But after all it is 2007. We are once again in January and now I can finally see that the countdown is definitely within sight. Yet despite this vision of my end goal I also unfortunately see obstacles placed precariously, ready to trip me up if I try to run before I can walk. 2007 has given me a refreshed view of the world and a thirst to forget certain aspects of last year, to learn from some of the experiences and more so than ever to relish everything that is the here and now because next year it will be the past. This year’s worries will long be forgotten when they become last year’s. Burning fires of desire will become just smouldering memories. Torrents of tears will be long since dry on the pillow. Fits of hysterical laughter will become echoes in the avenues of memory.

To become the person I want to be means that I shall not crumble inside, but instead I shall hold out for a person who is worth having me. Like so many people have told me after last year’s events, ‘There will be someone’. With hindsight now on my side, I can clearly see that I grabbed onto the first person who offered me any sort of affection, and despite my instincts I carried on regardless and made fruitless hopes. I attempted to wear my heart on my sleeve and got it trampled. There are plenty more fish in the sea, and this time I fully intend on surveying all of the potential before settling on the first bloke that comes my way. Ok, I still wish for the time when I know that a reassuring kiss and cuddle are mine when I need it, I wish for a time when I can get into a warm bed and turn over to look into a loved ones eyes; I mean come on, who doesn’t? But I am going to try to be happy being single for the time being, because after all it is better to be single than to be stuck with an arsehole!

My greatest friend

2007-01-04T19:19:00.000Z

I dreaded the emptiness that would fill me as I watched it slowly being dismantled. The cables all grouped into bundles according to the colour of the sockets, and the final disc removed. Even though the daylight was dwindling, with the streetlight blinking into life, streams of dust could be seen as she softly wiped across the loyal screen. And I stood watching, knowing that it was the end of a beautiful relationship. No longer would we sit up until the early hours of the morning together. Piece by piece it was packed away, and carefully I placed the most important part in pride of place on the carpeted mat; the modem.

And I whispered gently into the air; ‘Goodbye internet’

Oh God...It's Christmas again!

2006-12-25T22:43:00.000Z

Hey all,
You know I didn't realise just how much I would miss blogging every day or so, until I have been completely 'netless'. You see it just had to happen at this time of the year, right when I have loads of things to blog about and nowhere near enough time to type it all, whilst I sit cramped under the stairs at my mum's on the computer. So, re-cap of what seems like ages since I last blogged?

The ball, that was pretty damn special, although I have no photos that actually include me, so those who do; can we please arrange a mass digital photo swap when we get back to sixth form? (Pretty, pretty please?!)
Luke's party, absolutely hilarious although some absences were felt deeply. We thought of you as we watched the boys play 'Twister'. I also think that Will has come to the conclusion that I'm purely sadistic...maybe he's right!
Work...work...work. I am so unbelivably tired at the moment as I have been working non-stop!
Got rather tipsy last night I have to say. Three glasses of 11%white wine, two of red wine also of the 11% variety and a Bloody Mary when I hadn't eaten much all day, didn't bode well. In fact I got to bed at 2am this morning. (Perhaps that could be another contributory factor with the exhaustation?!)

Finally. To all those that are still sober enough to appreciate it...Merry Christmas!
Sorry to all those that I didn't manage to text this morning, although I have to admit I did text some people randomnly with my statutory message that went to everyone!!!

FUCKING ISPs!!!!

2006-12-15T16:58:00.000Z

I fear that I shall be offline for awhile, as my internet is being swapped over. It may even be as long as seven working days until the changeover process is completed. And the ISP's response to this when I raised this sanity deprivational problem? "Tough luck" So, I thought to myself this arrogant little shit obviously doesn't realise tha full implications of what he is saying. I WILL HAVE TO GO BACK TO RELYING ON THE LIBRARY COMPUTERS! Just the thought makes me shudder. I detest not having internet access. I detest not being able to check emails as and when I wish.

This in all amounts to the fact that I will try to check in every few days and post via the libraries decrept old machines, but other than that all posts will be safely stored on my laptop awaiting major file download when I have access again! Perhaps I shall console myself with writing poetry and my novel in this dismal time.

My last words

2006-12-15T00:47:00.000Z

If my mornings had all but gone,
I would whisper in your ear,
Sweet nothings that only you could hear,
I would smile knowing that I could die with no regrets,
That secret would not go to the grave with me,
And you would realise that suddenly everything is clear,
The puzzle would be complete.

20% is nearly 100%, right?!

2006-12-14T16:39:00.000Z

I was quite amazed this morning when I got up as I couldn't believe that I had really been that mad last night/this morning. Yesterday what with the major headache I had I didn't go into sixth form and by the time I woke up the sun had already gone down, so with waking at 4:15 I seriously fucked up my body clock. I knew I was going to have a hard job sleeping last night, but what did I do? Went to the club in Thurston and drank two cans of 'Red Bull'. I didn't think anything of it as the caffeine in it usually has no effect on me whatsoever. But tell me that now and I shall tell you that when it has been combined with having had about sixteen hours sleep earlier in the day, it is a completely different story.

One o'clock I sat at the computer doing two different IQ tests. (still came out as 133! Proof that I am actually quite intelligent!) and then I decided that perhaps I would go up to bed. There was no point in this however. I was WIDE awake. So, out comes Mr Laptop. I have now read "The Murders On The Rue Morgue" by Edgar Allan Poe. And then guess what? As if it wasn't bad enough that I had been sitting up reading a book off my laptop at 1 o'clock, I then decided that as I had ideas floating around in my head...I would write some of my lit coursework! Tap, tap, tap and 2 and a 1/2 hours later, I am sitting staring a collection of words that have miraculously combined themselves into some sort of form that resembles the start of my lit essay! I was a little disheartened when I hit word count and found that all my hard work had produced was 600 words, until I realised that this was actually over 20% of my essay done!!!!!!! Boo sucks Microsoft Word counter! Up yours Trev. I shall get this essay done for next Tuesday. I shall get a good grade. I will get more than a 'C' for A2 English Literature. Imagining the look on Trev's face next year if I can get my grade up to an A (which would put me on top of the fucking world!), is the thought that spurs me on everytime I start to think 'what the hell am I doing here?' or when I start to doubt my ability to pass English Literature A level let alone take it on to degree level.

All I think of when I see his conceited, smug, little rat-face is "one day I shall equal your qualifications" and even if I do dare to say this, "One day I shall be a hell of a lot better teacher than you are!" Even if this last part doesn't work out, I comfort myself in the knowledge that I shall never be such a complete and utter arrogant twat!

Simple nice things are very rarely that

2006-12-13T17:40:00.000Z

I was angry at you,
Because I had every reason to be,
I chose to call you certain names,
Because believe me you deserved them,
I could never be friends with you,
Because of what you had promised me.

I know now that your words were cheap,
Because they hurt me,
I don't see why you got so angry at me,
Because afterall you DID deserve to be called those names and more,
I hope you don't screw up your next relationship,
Because you can't treat people's hearts like that,

I wanted to have something good in my life,
Because you seemed to fuflfill that need,
I let myself feel happy,
Because you claimed to never hurt me,
I am now left with the tatters of my dreams,
Because you wanted to be 'just friends'

The best layed plans can go out of the window too.

2006-12-13T16:39:00.000Z

Why is it that everytime I decide to get everything sorted my plans go out of the window? On the walk home last night I came to the conclusion that I should settle down to writing my English lit (ie. that includes having to read the rest of Edgar Allan Poe's "Murders On The Rue Morgue"- no don't go frowning at me, I am doing three books for mine AND certain people still haven't read their TWO books, have they?!)

I did however get wrapped up in editing HTML codes for some very good friends of mine. I'm not moaning, it was all good practice. The book still has to be read though and the essay still to be written. I could be doing the said essay or reading the said book, but I don't really have any inclination to do so at the mo. When I woke this morning I actually felt so bad that I didn't go into sixth form. It probably means that I will have missed all sorts of shit from Business. I was really annoyed this morning that I couldn't go in as it meant that I had to miss the in-class support I take part in on a Wednesday but there we go.

The spark is here!

2006-12-08T17:09:00.000Z

I shall live and learn...

I can't help but look back and wonder,

And now everything I thought was good is sour,
Memories are all that I have left of you,

Walking down the road,
I know that back on the straight and narrow is what I should aim for,
The detour was not as pointless as it seemed,
Having to realise that the road hasn't changed,
Of course the pain will still be there for awhile,
Until I can accept that you were never everything to me,
Trouble; that was your name.

You weren't who I thought you were,
Obviously I hate you at the moment,
Unlucky is my route I follow in love.

I actually attempted an acrostics poem today and I don't think its actually turned out too badly. It's is not my favourite poem that I've ever written but it was created in less than ten minutes so not to bad really! I have so much I should be doing other than writing poems or blogging though, but those things shall wait for a little bit. Deadlines pass me by but at the moment, I admit ashamedly that I don't give a damn!

Acceptance is easier to live with

2006-12-08T01:33:00.000Z

Over the past couple of weeks I've found it incredibly easy to write poetry and therefore on my site there have been many additions. I assumed that with what has happened this past week that I'd lack inspiration to write poetry and then I realised that actually, if anything good was to come of this whole experience, that it was that I now have love failures to write about. Heartache= Poetry. Poetry= Writing. Writing + Luck= Ispiration enough to write some of my book.

Here is the poem I wrote this morning:

Not the 'One day' I dreamt of

I could call you every name uder the sun,
But it wouldn't help me,
I could cry until my eyes are red and raw,
But the tears have long since dried,
I could pretend that we never existed,
But we did and we both know it,
I could collapse into a pile of devastation,
But we all know I'm stronger than that,
I could wish you ill,
But that's not me,
I could go out and drink until oblivion is reached,
But what's the point?

What's the point in any of this?
I could believe that your words meant nothing to me,
But they helped at the time,
I could say that I don't know how I'll survive,
But I do know, believe it or not; I wish to thank you.
I could say that I regret our brief time together,
But I can't as it's a lie,
I could say that I won't look back at us,
But I know I will because you were the one that made me move on.

Sometimes when we run before we can walk...we stumble...and fall flat on our faces

2006-12-06T17:11:00.000Z

This is one of those hard posts that I know I don't really want to write. Commiting to paper (metahporically of course) what has happened means that I have to acknowledge it. I didn't want to have to admit that I have fallen foul to the moving too fast and starting to fall too quickly, but I have and that is all there is to it. I don't wish to exchange the 'ins and outs' of what happened but suffice to say that it is now a case of 'Steve' who?

I could if I wanted to be, be angry and revengeful (I think it's warranted) or I could be upset and mournful. But in true love song style I wish to say thank you. I got out before it was too late. I realised before I fell head first. For the past few weeks it has been an experience and a half, I've done things that I would never have dreamt of doing before and I have to admit that Steve made me feel comfortable and secure with myself. More importantly he made me forget. Forgetting in turn led to acceptance and being able to say goodbye to the ghosts that have haunted me with the 'whatifs' and 'should I have dones' put behind me. He made me move on, but finding out that we weren't meant to be together this soon into the relationship has also allowed me to live with the temporary upset this realisation has created. So, I'd just like to say thank you for making me move on but also for not prelonging what would have evolved into agony.

The new layout is here!!!

2006-12-05T19:00:00.000Z

It took me awhile to sort it, but now it is here and here to stay! How I managed to sort it really was nothing short of a fucking miracle, as I have been unable to see properly out of my left eye for the majority of the day and had one hell of a headache, but I struggled on and I have to say that I am very pleased with the results!

Now I wish to post about a variety of different aspects of life that have come to light over the past few weeks. It has scared me to realise how so many things in life that you would deem to be so strong and unbreakable can suddely become so fragile. Never to be again if once dropped and broken, the magic that was once there will be lost, and lost forever. If it shatters then you will realise how much you relied on that something. To use something concrete to support my thoughts, I suggest a mobile. Yes, I know its just a by-product of the ever-increasing technology age that we inhabit, but when I am without it I feel like I've lost my best friend. My previous mobile I dropped on the floor and wrecked the screen, leaving me unable to do anything but make calls. But it was just one simple drop. Not unlike anything I've ever done before. But this one time my phone decided that after all the maltreatment I had put it through it would finally give up the ghost. This can happen in the abstract sense with things untangible like friendships for example.
Now, if the people who I am referring to are reading this, then I would just like to re-utter what I said the other night. I'm sorry. The past few months have been strained between us, and I don't want it to be that way any longer. So, let's work at it. Because I never thought that things would rest on such a precarious ledge.

This also has to be the longest post I've written for awhile! (Boo sucks to *I might delete my blog as I have nothing to write about* Nic!)

New beginnings

2006-12-04T00:54:00.000Z

I am officially knackered. I worked on Saturday but had the day off on Sunday as I wished to decorate my new room. The painting did get done, and along with all the best things there were disasters in the process. To name but two, I fell off a stall whilst trying to use the roller and thought I had broken my right wrist (gah! scared me and it fucking hurt!) and also I managed to sit in the paint tray! So, as you can imagine I was covered in paint. It took at least twenty minutes in the shower to get it off! I didn't realise how tiring decorating is and I now have blisters on my hands and my muscles ache, but...my new room is painted!

The new masthead is eventually up, only three/four days late! The layout may soon be changed too when I can be bothered, so watch this space.

Now bed to which I must go...Christ I'm starting to talk like Yoda! My syntax is all confused, but then that's no real surprise when I tell you that I was painting last night after work until 11:25pm!

And so here it is Merry Christmas everybody's having fun...

2006-12-01T15:46:00.000Z

I can't believe that it is already the first of December, shit now it means I've got to get my arse in gear and do all the extra tasks that the season demands of us! Christmas cards, I shall write them. I've got about three packs yet currently they still sit in their wrappings! I managed to do quite a reasonable chunk of my Christmas shopping yesterday. Bless Colchester! Me and Tom caught the 6:45 train to Bury, had breakfast in McDonalds and then caught the 8:15 bus to Colchester. We shopped for everything, which lead to an impulse buy of a new hoodie and a canvass for my new room! Steve met up with me and Tom, which was good. They appeared to be a little wary of one another but it was still good. So, as its the first of the month, I am aiming to get a new masthead up and running by this evening. This however may not happen as tonight everything is going to be very hectic. Hayley and Samantha are moving out. The pluses: I get a new room, which is bigger and nicer etc. and the house will be a lot quieter. The negative: They will cry, which will make me cry. I suppose what I'm trying to admit (begrudingly) that I will miss them.

I'd walk miles for you...

2006-11-29T18:32:00.000Z

I made a discovery last night as I sat on the 22:42 train back form Ipswich last night. It was something that surprised me greatly. The fact that I had caught the 16:30 train to Ipswich, missed the 17:08 train to Colchester literally by seconds and then caught the 17:24 instead, made my mind boggle. Now what, I hear you ask, would possess me to travel that far alone at night? I answer this simply; in the quest for love.
Yes, I finally after many disappointments, managed to meet up with Steve. This I also attribute to the recent lack of updates on my blog. Anyway, we had a great time. He took me to a pub on the outskirts of the town, which was an hours walk from the train station but it was a nice pub. And we talked. By God did we talk, about everything and anything. It just felt so natural and I wasn't even nervous.
Unfortunately I had to catch my train at 21:23 so the evening was cut off quite early but in hindsight it was probably a good thing. On the hour long walk back to the train station I could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on, so it was a blessing that I was then going home. I only just managed to catch the train home as I misread the platform listing! Oops- I had to run! Anyway caught the train and managed to change at Ipswich to go home. I sat on the train, happy but in immense pain. I tell you, you would never realise just how noisy a train is. Everytime the train stops the luggage rail shakes and makes a sound that you barely notice normally, but last night this sound increased the pain in my head. It felt like a drill going through my right eye into the back of my skull. Thankfully though, after some painkillers and sleep, this morning my head was back to normal.

I spent a grand total of £9.40 on my tickets to and from Colchester, but it was worth every single hard earned penny. It did make me wonder though to what lengths people will go to for love? Is there some uncontrollable instinct that prevails over all our rational thoughts? I think it may just be possible that it is so.

Lack of posts

2006-11-14T17:40:00.000Z

It's been over a week since I blogged. Various things have happened yet I feel that after certain things have happened I am reluctant to blog in detail about them. Suffice to say it's been a mixed bag, and I've drawn a lot of bad times.

Enough about the really bad times. I received conditional offers from Essex!!!! So, I just need to get three B's at A level and I'm in...not hard then, much! I had a great time at work at the weekend, even though I put in a long shift, it was good. I'm beginning to feel more confident about what I'm doing and I like the poeple I work with. I went out last night and got drunk-ish. It was a completely spontaneous decision, but me and Tom got the 20:50 train to Bury, went to the pub and then took the 23:25 train home. Talked about everything and anything, overall a great night- thanks Tom!

My house is currently under warlike status. I swear if I don't tread carfeully I'll land on a mine. Everything is changing in the house and I can't wait for it to settle back to normality.

Gonna go now as I'm trying to hold a convo on msn, cook tea (What you only ever eat toast, don't you? My reply to this, is yes. I'm waiting for the toaster to pop up!) and I'm apparently going to see my mum's new house later this evening.

It comes about when you least expect it...

2006-11-07T21:58:00.000Z

Ok, here goes. A.R.U. have finally acknowledged that I exist and as of today I have a conditional offer from them. Essex have yet to acknowledge my existence, let alone my application though! Grrrrrr........I am the first to admit that I am one of THE most impatient people in existence, but I think that this time my impatience is warranted. It gets annoying when other universities have made offers, yet Essex- the one place in the world that I truly wish to study, hasn't.

Anyway, the true purpose of this post. Expectations. I often view myself as a pessimist, but in truth perhaps I am a realist who generally aspires to have a typical corny romantic relationship. I do like it though, when I find that things are moving really quickly and everything is going just as I want it to go. Compliments really boost self-esteem and I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

****Added today****

Why can't people ever just be happy for me? Here's some equations for you, do the maths and see whether you come to the same conclusion.
Me + Possible romance= Happy Jen
Me+ Possible Romance+Friends slagging off my possible man= Very annoyed Jen

Sorry, this probably sounds daft but...if I'm happy then isn't it a bit mean for someone to blatantly slag them off?

P.S I know that I shouldn't write about this on here because there will be people reading this that know who I'm referring to, but I have to say that, that the person deeply offended me. Hence it added more fuel to my suspicions.

Anonymous comments?!

2006-11-03T13:21:00.000Z

This is a rant. Why oh why is it that people feel the need to leave horrible comments on blogs. If they feel the need, why do they have to hide behind 'anonymous says'? If people want to call me a 'tit' or a 'sad loser' I'd prefer it if they were to have the guts to leave their name. The said person apparently knows nothing of the circumstances nor me- it appears as if they are exactly like the people I don't like. I have a suspicion over who the person is and if it is that person, then I'd just like to say that I'm bloody disappointed in them- I thought they were better than that. Let me know if you are the person leaving these comments, my email address is on the blog perhaps we can clear up any misunderstandings.

HTML headache

2006-11-02T21:38:00.000Z

I did intend on writing a really long post tonight but I think that shall have to wait until tomorrow now. As you may (or may not!) have noticed, I have changed the layout of my blog. It took me ages to figure out the HTML coding to do this, so I'm pretty damn proud of myself. I know that to many HTML coding is something they could do in their sleep, but I also know that alot of people are in the same boat I found myself in. Stupidly though, I have been sat at the computer for three hours browsing through self help guides to coding and the such like and then implementing the advice. Unfortunately I forgot to put my glasses on and now have a thumping headache as a result. So, the long post will wait until tomorrow and I shall just congratulate myself on gaining some very basic idea on the complex issue of HTML!

Thank you and goodnight!

Motive or excuse?

2006-11-01T22:15:00.000Z

This is a weird post but I was contemplating this when trying to decide what to blog about. When does your motivation behind an act become just an excuse? How can we separate them? Really, I think that this is another one of those vague lines. Dictionaries separate "Motive" and "Excuse" and make a clear distinction as you may expect one to, but the more I was thinking of an analogy to fit my reasoning the more I became certain that there is really strong link.
If I was to hypothetically draw out a gun and kill a person (have a think as to who might be top of my hitlist!*) then the police would have to try and establish a motive for the murder supposing that I was clever enough to cover my tracks. But, if the said person had wronged me or 'driven' me to it, then I would try to excuse myself.

This is where I'd like to clarify things a little bit more, to my mind motive is a synonym for excuse. But then perhaps you have to have a motive behind creating an excuse?

*Top of my hit list clue (if you haven't worked it out by now!):
To make someone want to do something well for example- Teaching is all about motivating people to learn.

Or not as the case may be!

Deprivation of the senses...where would that leave us?

2006-11-01T21:51:00.000Z

It seems stupid to say this seen as my house is warm, but I'm currently really cold and am sitting at the keyboard with a hoodie on over my shirt whilst being huddled against the radiator. The whole point of this is the fact that my hands are so cold I can barely feel them and it made me question how we would survive with a lack of senses. I'm not meaning the traditional, sight, hearing, smell and taste but the more subjective sense of touch. Perhaps I should be more specific and call it feelings. You, see it has always puzzled me the way some people seem to have an ability to shut off and appear unfeeling. Something tells me that it's a mask. I often think that it would be easier to pass through this life if I didn't feel anything but unfortunately that's not an option.
Today, I think I was very controlled. I will openly admit that I tend to get very overly excited when a certain person emails me and I have to email a reply back instantly, but today I opened up the email and didn't say a word about it to anyone. Unfortunately I can't go as far as to say that a thrill didn't go through me when I saw the name of the contact in the box, but I smiled and thought, "Oh that's nice, they've bothered to email me". Keeping the thoughts private was hard but I did it. AND it has been a whole 13hours since they emailed me, and I haven't emailed them back even though their email requires a response- Yet!!! Progress methinks!!!

Product of my imagination

2006-11-01T21:47:00.000Z

This pictures don't quite do my shoes the full justice that they deserve but enjoy the uniqueness of my 'converse' copies!

When the going gets tough, you just have to keep on going

2006-10-31T22:40:00.000Z

Today was mixed. Suffice to say that I actually did work in study (unheard of I know!) but then contemplated going home this afternoon as I felt that bad. At one point I was doubled up in pain but thankfully due to the miracle of painkillers, it settled to just an annoying amount of pain which allowed me to carry on the rest of the day as any other normal human does.

Tonight I went to the cinema with Caz, which was groovy. (Now that's an adjective that I rarely use. Don't know where my brain dug that one up from!) Nic was supposed to go too but couldn't get there : (
Saw 3 was great though, sick but great all the same. I spent a fair amount contemplating my sequel to my book whilst the film was on, because something small and seemingly unsignificant reminded me. I may not have finished my book but I have a fairly good idea how I'm going to start my next one! Must find motivation and writer's hat to finish current book.

Before I write any more of my book though, I should finish reading my books for the comparitative literature essay. Oh, there was a development on that front today also. The books that we compare have to be of about 200pgs+ each which is fine. Trev recommended I use Edgar Allan Poe's 'Murders on Le Rue Morgue' and compare it with the book I wanted to do ('Monday mourning' or 'Deja Dead' by Kathy Reichs.) I settled for this idea but upon starting to read the said work by Poe, I found that it was only 40 pages long! Further evidence that Trev is a nob in my opinion! So, I may end up using three books for mine, possibly to include a work from the infamous Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Best news I had all day?! Trev isn't going to be in school on friday which effectively means that I get a double doss instead of a double drone session!!! Yes! Can the world get any better?!

Jen is tired...oh so tired...

2006-10-30T17:34:00.000Z

The alarm went off this morning and I literally had to prise my head off the pillow. I know that I am not at all a morning person but it was more than just a simple 'I don't want to get up at this time of morning' feeling.

The weekend was eventful in as much as I worked and did fuck all else. How the hell I managed to do anything at work yesterday was a miracle. I felt like shit, ached ALL over and my head was pounding. Still, I managed to only stuff up once. Luckily it was not a major cock up but a simple case of forgetting that starter cutlery has to be given out as well. Becky was kind enough to remind me though. (I was so tempted to say the following "It's only my second week and I feel like shit- have some compassion please!" but I managed to refrain.)

Right still feel like shit now, yet the only thing that is vaguely good is the fact that if it is a cold (please don't let it be!) then it has yet to rear its ugly head fully. I must do my mock paper thing for lang at some point tonight and perhaps finish my essay for lit as well. The essay was supposed to be in today but thankfully Ponton has given us an extension (yes, a whole day!). I did attempt to write the essay last night but I got through about two paragraphs before realising that there was no possible way I was going to finish it. I actually went to bed at just gone eleven last night. A miracle in itself that I actually went to bed in PM time really wasn't it?!

Now, today gave me some inside into the complexity of the human brain. I was sitting in business feeling half dead and thinking about my book. I know certain extracts word for word so I can go through it mentally, and then edit it. I choose this exact time to do this whilst Criddle droned on about pricing or something, but low and behold I found myself muttering the answer to her question. That was spooky. For some reason my brain managed to dig up the answer "Penetration pricing" when that was realistically the last thing I was thinking about.

That is all for today's post apart one last thing. I added another poem to my site so check it out- and PLEASE comment and sign the guest book. I love reading feedback!

The blank page stares out at me...

2006-10-28T19:42:00.000+01:00

And for once I don't really have the words to fill it. Perhaps I should just moan for a bit, that seems to work I thought when I eventually managed to log into beta blogger. But then I realised that I really can't be bothered at the moment.

Log off then and do something you can be bothered to do. That's what my brain is telling me. My brain is also telling me that I should go to bed. My body tells me that also. But if I do, I shall get nothing done and it will seem as if I have had no time to myself today.

Reason for this exhaustation that is both mental and physical? I have a temporary job (until Christmas). 8 hours today. 6 hours yesterday. I worked out that by the time half term is over, I will have actually worked 40 hours.

Must read Byron...must do Hamlet essay...Must sleep..............................
Short post today. Also I think I might be coming down with a cold : (

Brain function and malfunction

2006-10-25T22:22:00.000+01:00

If you were to try to sum up all the thoughts you have in one single day, I assume that we would be here until the end of time.

Fleeting thoughts. Mild musings. Deep concentration.

You think about it, what did you think of today? I know that my mind wanders off at complete tangents at times, and I've realised that when we try to stop ourselves thinking our brains do the opposite. For most people this is not a problem as they control it. Unfortunately, my brain has a habit of picking the most inopportune moments to meander off in irrelevant directions after the smallest of triggers. Take the middle of an exam, whilst I should be sitting there scribbling away nineteen to the dozen like all my fellow classmates, I will be looking at the question and picking out something that would seem insignificant to others but that then leads me onto thinking about what I perceive to be a very strong link.

So, today I learnt that however hard I try I will still think of a certain person and that even if it seems like it isn't relevant at the time, I have to allow myself that time. Suppressing thoughts never works for me because it seems to then build to the point where I feel like I'm going to burst. Therefore now I shall allot a small amount of time each day to think about who I could, and would in an ideal world, think about all the time. And whilst I'm at it I think I need to work on the triggers for these thoughts. I think that when it gets to the point that the word 'Red' evokes really strong memories, I may be just slightly obsessed

What happens when...?

2006-10-24T11:09:00.000+01:00

I've often wondered what the hell happens when you realise that everything you've ever believed and everyone you've trusted, has changed? I came across something the other day that has just confirmed what I have privately been contemplating for a few weeks. I'm not going to reveal what or who is responsible but suffice to say that the people in question should, if they know me like they think they do, know what I mean.

So what do I do when I feel so betrayed by someone who I thought I could trust? I'll tell you what I've done: Absolutely nothing. Instead of blowing my top and shouting at them until they are left to be nothing but a sniveling wreck begging for my forgiveness, I have said nothing. The problem is, it hasn't made me angry but instead upset.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I can deal with anger but when I'm upset it's a completely different ball game. Over the past few months I've come to the conclusion that minus three people (they know who they are, as I've told them), I do not trust anyone completely. It's when you get in the shit that you find out who you can rely on... I'm not going to finish this sentence because by this point in this post you should know how the sentence finishes.

One day I hope that I can drop the guard I have to hold up, but in order to do that I need people I can trust in my life. Until that day, I'll stick with the one person who I know I can trust. Here's the poem I wrote the other day when I came to the conclusion that I can't wait for life to move on.

What are we left with?

Smiles have become constant frowns,
Silence fills the air where laughter used to ring,
Annoyance where mutual enjoyment was,
Whispers and secrets hang between us,
Trust broken never can be truly replaced,
Doubts gnaw at the brain,
Every inch apart seems like miles,
Something has gone rotten,
Milk turned sour and bread now stale.
Everything I thought I'd miss,
Has become everything I want to escape,
Perhaps we've grown apart,
Or perhaps we were never really that close to start with,
So what are we left with?

I prepare to re-enter the world of work

2006-10-17T16:34:00.000+01:00

It doesn't seem to matter evidently how many times I claim to try and blog more regularly as it never works. Last week rushed past so quickly that I only vaguely recall a blur of colours, shapes and sounds. I did a lot of complaining, re-reading extracts from my book and generally wasting time in the library once again.

As the clock struck four o'clock on Friday, for some reason I was in an exceptionally brilliant mood (perhaps the lucozade tablets had something to do with it? I hear Caroline laughing at me now but...I refuse to acknowledge that the artificial sweetners and flavourings were the sole reason behind it!) The weekend stretched out before me and the prospect of Monday and another week starting was a distant nightmare. Then...

SHIT!! FUCK!! BOLLOCKS!! WHAT FUCKING TIME OF THE MORNING DO YOU CALL THIS?!!!

Simple answer: it was Monday morning. I did however have some good fortune over the weekend. I flicked through the Bury Free Press on Friday afternoon, something that I don't do very often, and I spotted this little advert in the job section. So, I phoned. One five minute phone call and a twenty minute interview at the unearthly time of 11 o'clock on the Saturday morning, and I find myself re-entering the world of work.

Another simple musing that I wish to share with you is that it never fails to amuse me the naivety and stupidity of people we would assume to be some of the more intelligent humans that inhabit our little planet Earth. I'm not exactly going to explain my reasoning for this proclamation either, but just let me suffice in saying that the most obvious things are probably staring you right in the face and that sometimes the thinnest disguise works because then people don't suspect. It reminds me of couple of different lines in a book I'm currently reading.

"The easiest place to take cover is plain sight; no one ever looks twice at someone who acts like he has nothing to hide."

"It takes two people to make a lie work. The person who tells it and the one who believes it."

This leads me onto something else. I am never really ashamed at what I might or might not write on my blog but after the recent experience I had of finding a nasty entry about someone I knew on a blog, I've kind of gone off the idea of putting anything identifiable on here. So, I'm gonna remove all the photos I have on here. If anyone wants copies of them then email me and I'll forward them to you. It did scare me a bit to realise that even a computer novice like me, can find all sorts of details about people if they want to though:

It really is that easy. Of course I'm leaving out the fact that there are literally thousands of sites that if you pay a small insignificant amount of money, they will give you access to birth, death, marrital, criminal records and the such like. Honestly it really is no wonder that identity theft is on the increase is it?

It's been ten days of nothingness...

2006-10-10T17:28:00.000+01:00

I tend to blog in spates I've realised. Everytime I kind of decide to blog everyday I get distracted and end up realising that night when I go to bed that I haven't blogged...again. I have been writing, in fact I keep writing in little disjointed bursts as and when I have inspiration. So I have about seven different extracts of my book written non-chronologically that have still to be added. I wish I could write now but I'm still too wound up.

I hate my fucking English Lang class. To be honest those six words sum up my feelings towards English Lang as a whole currently. Don't get me wrong the work is fine, I don't mind that in the slightest bit, and for once I don't even hate the teacher. No it's just those immature hyenas that by rights I should call my classmates. I'm sorry, I understand that we all like to enjoy ourselves, and laughter and messing about in lessons is fine by me- at the right times and as long as it doesn't hinder other people's learning. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when the class gets so loud that I can't hear Nic when she is no further than six inches away from me, the class is too loud. That is NOT a working volume.

I don't understand this to be honest. Sixth formers, year thirteens call us what you want but in theory we should all be there because we want to do work, shouldn't we? The attitudes of some of my fellow students though, makes my mind boggle. If a teacher says that you can't go and get changed during lesson time, call me old fashioned if you like, but I thought that out of respect you should like it and lump it. It just annoys me when a student so blatantly defies a teacher. The result of this bloody lesson? I now have a pounding headache and am completely and utterly fucking pissed off with it. I plan to sort this out tomorrow. It is not me just be a swot and moaning about lessons though, others share my views. Thanks Nic, Will and Shem. At least I don't feel like a complete idiot for protesting about the lack of work!

Whilst I haven't been able to write any amount of my book which could even remotely constitute being classed as an extract since Sunday, I have written two poems. On Sunday evening I decided I wanted to write a poem, and whilst it took me a little time to get my poet's hat on, I managed it and seem to be on a roll!!! Check out my poetry This is the most recent poem:

You've been a part of my life for so long...

I never said anything,
But every time I heard the phone ring,
I longed to hear your voice,
You gave me no choice,
Because my heart chose to love you.

Insult me and stop talking to me,
Because that's the way it has to be,
If only you I could hate,
Our friendship is nothing but bait,
I want to move on.

You have a hold over me so strong,
And you don't even know what you've doing wrong,
I can't do this friendship thing,
Just look at my heart's beating,
My life would be easier without you.

I can't have you as my lover,
And at the moment I want no other,
Without you my life looked bleak,
Yet now I know I was weak,
We can't be friends when I want to be so much more.

So let me run,
Let me think not of you,
Let my life get back to normal,
Let me know that there is life after love,
Let me know that the life I had before love can be mine again.

The poem isn't brilliant by a long shot and some of the rhymes are pretty damn shoddy by my own admission. Any comments are more than welcome. If you visit my poetry site: please, PLEASE give me feedback and sign my guestbook!!!

Thanks, and that is goodnight for this post!

100 things you might or might not know about me...

2006-09-30T12:21:00.000+01:00

After seeing this done on Eddmun's blog and after a discussion with Nic about this, I thought I would have a go at creating a list of a hundred things people don't know about me. This list might not end up as 100 though...

I lived in Bury St. Edmunds for the first three years of my life
I met two of my best friends at play school.
I used to have two cats called 'Misty' and 'Max'.
At primary school I was regularly part of the game 'The marching game' which Tom lead.
I knocked my two front teeth (milk) out on a seesaw in Stanton when I was four.
My favourite kids' programme on TV was 'Playdays'.
I moaned nonstop for two hours when I found that they had replaced 'Playdays' with 'Teletubbies' on BBC 2.
I can still sing all the words to the 'Wizadora' theme tune.
I used to love tangerines and satsumas but now can't even stand the smell.
I hated reading until I found I could read Postman Pat at christmas (similar title I think).
I did actually memorise the words of the said book.
At primary school I dreaded using the computers.
I haven't been able to drink apple juice since watching an episode of 'Only fools and horses'.
I used to throw away my crisps for lunch at primary school.
I haven't eaten lunch regularly since I was 13.
I can quote long passages of dialogue from several episodes of 'Steptoe and Son'.
I eat salted popcorn when I go to the cinema.
The first ever CD that I had bought for me was 'All that you need' from Boyzone.
The first concert I went to was Boyzone in 1998.
I've only been to one other 'proper' concert other than Boyzone, which was 'The Sugababes'.
I've always been fascinated by things that scare me.
I'm awful at trying to be completely honest with people about my feelings.
I have one secret that I will take to my grave.
Sometimes I cry myself to sleep for days on end.
I love old cheesy love songs.
I'm a romantic at heart.
I was one of the first people in my class to be allowed to use a 'Berol Handwriting' pen.
I hate using pencils to write or draw.
I made the results up in my year 10/11 physics coursework.
I flunked general studies.
I can lipread.
I am very good at keeping up one conversation whilst listening into another.
I try to remember all the small little details about people.
I hate tea.
I hate squash of all varieties.
I once destroyed two eggs trying to boil them.
I used to like maths.
Contrasting to many's beliefs I can actually control my temper.
The part of my temper that you see is nothing compared to if I really lose it.
I once owned a lime green tracksuit.
The first pair of decent trainers I had were orange and white Reebok ones.
I have fifteen pairs of shoes (I think as a rough count)
I own seven pairs of jeans but only one pair fits without the need for a belt that is on the last hole.
I used to eat the tops off 'Iced gems' and then give my dad the biscuit bases.
The first film I watched at the cinema was 'Matilda'.
I regret falling out with friends.
I wish I could say for sure that I will stay in touch with everyone I know now when we all go to uni.
Sometimes I get scared but cover it up by being angry or acting indifferent.
Anger is my best weapon.
I once slept 22 hours just because I could.
I have no photos of friends on the France trip.
I stay up far too late and get up far too late.
I find it hard to admit to my feelings.
I'm scared of rejection.
Living without someone is something that haunts me everyday.
I waste money.
My sense of direction is ok as long as I have a map to follow.
I google random things.
I wish I didn't remember dates/times/conversations.
Having expectations only leads to disappointment in my opinion.
My favourite soft drink is 'Dr. Pepper'.
I can spend hours simply thinking about one person.
I wear odd socks.
I drink my coffee black with one sugar.
I hate changing over trains.
My room is in a bad state.
Getting no replies to emails REALLY bugs me.
I own three beanie babies.
I dream too much.
I seek perfection from myself and get frustrated when I fail to achieve it.
I have never owned a games console.
I have only ever broken one bone in my body.
My laptop is my friend that is always there.
Spiders, snakes and lizards are brilliant in my opinion.
I sing in the shower.
I correct people's grammar too much.
The little things you find out about people never fails to surprise me.
I like my own company.
Electronic communication is overrated.
My mum once told me that I would end up very bitter and twisted if I didn't let go. Now I thank her for this advice.
I find it easier to forgive than I do to forget.
I have boxes full of books under my bed.
There are also books stacked in bags and drawers.
I can't swim very well.
I hate going to the doctors.
I don't like getting off escalators.
I get paranoid that people will laugh at me.
I cling onto memories as if they will disappear if I don't constantly think of them.
I shouldn't send emails in the early hours of the morning because that's when I'm most vulnerable.
I confide in the people you'd least expect.
I'm a god mother to my cousin.
I have two cousins, Hannah (10) and Emily (7).
Pizza is one of my favourite food items.
The smell of fresh bread is the nicest smell.
I want a family.
I want love to last.
I wish I could let people in more than I can.
The one person who knows me more than anyone else probably doens't realise it.
I hate romantic comedies because they highlight what I'm missing.
I was afraid when I started this post that there then wouldn't be anything people didn't know about me.

So there we go, I made it all the way to one hundred!

Business is bollocks...

2006-09-29T23:51:00.000+01:00

This is the promised ranting post that I thought would perhaps be overdue, but of course that was until I turned up to the lesson this afternoon. My outburst of "Business is Bollocks- Kill me now" somehow seems even more apt following the lesson from hell today. In fact today as a whole was pretty damn crappy. I swear I laughed only twice, and both times they were at someone else's expense.

Trev has annoyed me to the point where I shall decline to talk to him until further notice. He is one of THE WORST teacher there is, I have a right mind to log onto Rate My Teachers and write the nastiest comment on there but I am above that...I think! He would not know teaching if it came and bit him on the arse. My exact words at lunch were something along the lines of "If I was to see him at the moment, I would rip his head off and shit down his neck"! This unpleasant imagery provoked one of the few laughs I had. Alex came up with how funny it would be to screw his head back on, only for shit to come tumbling out of his mouth. Personally I don't think that that is too far from what happens currently!

Right back to business in the subject sense. The picture at the top of this blog is a complete and utter muddle if you ask me. But not as much of a muddle as the majority of us felt this afternoon. My brain I swear has been purified down to some non existent mush. The lesson learnt from this experience? "Any students that dropped business and didn't carry it on to A2, were indeed a hell of a lot wiser than the nine of us that are left struggling!" I shall not bore you with trying to explain what the image is showing ( this will tell you all you need to know and probably still leave you as confused as I am).

I have an essay which I must do for Monday on Hamlet but it currently still only consists of a title. I have 55 stanzas of 'Don Juan' to read for Monday but currently don't have the book. I have a piece of editorial writing to do but I have no inclination to do it. Looking at this realtively small (although still throughly time-consuming) list, I fear this is how I should be spending my weekend. But of course those of you that know me well will know that there isn't a hope in hell that I'll do this work. The completion of my first novel is still too tempting.

I haven't spoken about my book on here for awhile now (I thought there was no point as no one ever commented on my prologue) I have now written 223 pages that are in the main body file of my book although I have roughly another twenty of so pages that haven't been modified and molded into the book. Generally I don't suffer writer's block, or if I do I phone Nic and then manage to write, but I have found that occasionally writing from certain characters' perspectives is hard.

Knowing how my book is going to end and that I am now on the downward hill to this, limits me. The excitement just isn't there. I keep trying to muster it up but at times the book seems to be dragging its heels. You wouldn't believe how much harder it is to write when you know the exact way things have to go in the book to create the right ending. I miss the days when I could write and learn something new about my character that the book just seemed to write for itself. I miss the days where I could absorb myself in writing from any character's point of view and switch simultaneously. I miss the days when there was still some uncertainty in my mind as to the way the story would end. I miss the days when I didn't think about trying to get it published.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to get it published as I've always wanted to be an authoress but it scares me somewhat. Rejection. The big 'R' word that haunts every single potential author, poet, singer, actor or model. Submitting my novel will be like exposing the most vulnerable side of myself. Allowing my book to be at the mercy of scrupulous agents and publishers feels like a betrayal. My book is my baby. Opening it to such vicious criticism is sure to also put my self esteem and self belief on the line. But for now I'm going to attempt to write strictly from an author's point of view and not worry about the possibility of publishing it. Sometimes I fear what I will do when I finish though. Where do the characters go once you type those fatal words "THE END"? Did you ever think of that?

As a reader you take probably between 2 days-2 months to finish a book (I'm assuming most people are quite quick readers!). If the book is riveting the characters stay at the edge of your brain even when you're not reading, this is a good sign. When you finish the book the characters stay with you for a few days, this is one of the highest compliments you can give an author. Now imagine what it is like to live with these characters in your head, knowing that you created them and that they have been with you for over a year (I started writing August 24th 2005), and then to find that the time has nearly come to say goodbye to them. It is like having virtual friends, because as an author the characters have identities both in imaging the physical and mental attributes to them, and it leaves me feeling hollow to think that I should have to say goodbye to my characters. Avoiding this I have started planning my sequel, but I know that not all the characters can possibly go through to the next book.

Regret not what you've said but what you haven't

2006-09-17T23:13:00.000+01:00

I was musing upon this exact thought for awhile when I came to the conclusion that perhaps we all regret doing both of these things. Sometimes it might be said that it's easier to live with regretting what you haven't said because for most of us there is still plenty of time for us to say or do something we didn't. But it's all about the time and place and more often than not, the lack of opportunity. Missed opportunities lead to regrets that can haunt us for the rest of our lives.

I was writing some of my book today and after attempting to analyse my book as a whole with Nic also made me think of regrets. (On either Friday or Saturday. Sorry mate I can't remember which day it was- the state I was in last night you could have said anything and I wouldn't really have remembered.) A large aspect of my book, relies on the lost chances that the characters experience.And what I gained from this discussion was that what quantifies as a 'lost chance' varies from person to person.
To rely on a variation of lyrics that are in so many songs:
"If I die tonight, would I go with no regrets?"

Things I haven't said would be high up on my priority list if I knew that I was never to see another sunrise, so just incase I'll write them here. For privacy reasons I will abbreviate to letters and numbers in some cases, not just the beginning letter of people's names.

"19/05. : I'm sorry that I never got to say this to your face. I love you. It's as simple as that. I was too scared to ever say anything, truth be told I tried to ignore the feelings and deny them. Sometimes my heart pounds so strongly I wish to shout off the rooftops that 'I love you'. Of course I shall never do this. Not now. Not ever. To say this now would create too much hurt both to you, me and your other half. And that is one thing I could never do- Hurt you.

08/08. : I know you've been through some shit in your life and by God did I try to help you. You told me that I don't mean as much to you as a friend as you did to me, this I was angry at but now I wish to say thank you. You are one of the people who I would attribute to making me learn the values of a true friendship. You were never really the friend I wanted or dare I say it, the friend I deserved.

B16/05. : I spent so many of the first few years standing in your shadows, looking up to you and desperately wanting you to acknowledge me. I thought you could be my best friend but thinking about it, you betrayed me when I was seven and I don't think I should have ever forgiven you that. But I did. We've shared some great memories, I shall never forget the seagulls or midnight snacks. I hope you have as many fond memories of our time together as I do.

E19/09. : I wish I didn't think like this about you but I do. I will not apologise for I did nothing wrong. By God did I try to help you, I spent time and emotions that I didn't have on trying to salvage our friendship. But I did this for you because you were my friend and I loved you for it, and now when I look at the way you repaid me, I feel nothing but contempt and disgust.

L08/01. : I can remember the first time I meet you and marvelled at that bright orange hair! It seems unreal to think that that was now nearly nine years ago! Long live the seagulls, the no-smoking sign and of course 'Jingly'! Through the time we've known each other, we've not always spent alot of time together but you are still one of the few people who I can talk to honestly and know it will go no further. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this.

Alex: My funloving hippy friend. We've shared some of the rough and some of the smooth. Through the drunk to the sobre. From the mornings to the evenings. You've been a great friend. Stick with your views forever, I know I take the piss sometimes but I really do admire you for having the guts to say 'Bollocks' to everyone else and do your own thing. Love ya!

Nic: If I die before my book ever gets published: there is no one in the world who I would think more worthy than you to put your name to it. You've added probably as much as I have in terms of allowing me the inspiration to write when I was stuck, and for being on the other end of the phone ready to discuss in length any aspect of my book I needed. Your random and eccentric, but also loving and understanding. Don't ever change, I love you for it. Please oh please, turn up to on my weddding dressed in a green dress with pink dots on it! Love ya loads!

Sarah: Ohh! I've just got to tell you *slaps thigh heartily* you have been such a great friend to me in the years we've known one another! Random times fill my brain and make me laugh as much now as they did at the time. That my friend is a true talent: to have helped make memories that still inspire as much laughter now, sets you apart from many in this life. I remember you crying with laughter in the Vic! So for now don't let me ever forget one of my best friends. Love you til the end mate!

Lindsey: 'Be Jesus!' From the short little squirt in the grey pleated skirt and knee high socks to the friend you've turned out to be, is something that I could never have predicted. We've shared times where we've laughed and even times where I've cried. You were the only one I could turn to when I needed help, and you simply took charge and made me sort things out whether I was up to it or not. Thanks mate, I am forever in your debt for what you did for me. I won't forget you despite the distance that may come between us, you may have to take some of the responsibility for the communication though, ie: turn your f***ing mobile on! Love you always Minge!

Tom: You're the big brother I never had. I would trust my life in your hands and I hope you could say the same. I remember the little boy who wanted to be a policeman and look back at wonder when I compare him to the man in charge of the auditorium. You've always been there for me and I should thank you for this. This message I mark with a 'white shirt' to show its importance! Love you always my big brother that never was!

To all the others that have made an impact on my life that I never got to mention. These little oversights are not intentional. Some of the greatest inspirations and help in my life has stemmed from these people, you know who you are."

For now I think I have finished with the tributes, but this is by no means a complete list. I can now sleep easy in the knowledge that I have voiced my feelings for all to see. Better go to bed now as I was supposed to be doing my Hamlet work but I think that I would regret not having said these things a whole lot more than I would ever regret not having written a response to 'How does Shakespeare create dramatic impact in Act one, scene one?"

The more I try not to the more I do...

2006-09-14T22:59:00.000+01:00

I happen to think that I am quite an understanding person in many respects, (some may not agree with this but the majority of the time I'm not the self-confessed opinionated bitch). The problem is that I'm finding it harder and harder to be sympathetic to myself and my feelings. You may even go as far as to say that I'm frustrated to the point of wanting to cry due to the patheticness I am currently showing.

It seems that every time I seem to be moving on, there's something that changes all that. As you may have noticed I am a stickler for the importance communication plays in friendships and all relationships, and when my opinion on this is not respected it leaves me more than just a little upset. A certain person, (those who know me will know who I'm referring to) is the major culprit of this. The said person once left it four months before contacting me back, despite the fact that I emailed and wrote countless letters to him in the same space of time, and then low and behold emailed me out of the blue and gave me hope that perhaps I did mean something as a friend to him. Even when he emailed me he failed to give me a satisfactory reason for his rudeness, but me being me, being wrapped up in the glorious wishful thinking that I meant something to him, I overlooked this SMALL point and forgave him EVERYTHING.

Now four months of irregular emails, a couple of reasonable length convos and a visit followed, and I began to think that my life could perhaps be back on track. I found myself thinking more and more about someone else almost as many times as I thought about him, and it appeared as if I might finally be able to see myself just in the capacity of friend to him and accept this. I do, however, expect people who are my friends to email me back (unless circumstances do not permit). I came to the decision that if I was ever to have a chance of happiness in a relationship I needed to let go, and therefore not email as often as I used to, therefore decreasing my emails from the possible obsessive nature to simply just friendly chit-chat every now and again. Now though, my time is being split between thinking about the possible new guy and trying not to think about the other one. I decided that because he was unavailable, I would not email him. This is the problem the more I convince myself that I can't email him, the more I miss having him as a friend.

Am I pathetic for still holding onto this realtionship as if my life depends on it? It doesn't seem to matter how many times I chide myself for my lack of ability to let go, for some reason my heart still grips on for dear life. Memories will suddenly find themselves at the forefront of my brain, and things that I didn't even realise I remembered will play out in front of me as if it is once again happening. I find myself holding onto the letters he sent me for hours on end just because I know that he once held them, even tracing the gummed seal on the envelope because I know that his tongue was once on that seal. It's sad that I've been dejected into the pile of love's mistreats. I'm either a victim of unrequited love or just guilty of being to scared of rejection.

But is he really a friend? Is it actually possible to be friends with this guy when I would love to be so much more to him? I really am trying to move on but the past still has too firm a grip on me, for me to allow myself the freedom to take decisions that might make my life spiral out of control for the better. I'm hurting at the moment because of this but as usual I can feel the walls coming up around me. It's hard to contain these feelings but equally as hard to talk about this with anyone really, and so I can feel myself trying to overcompensate. I'm overcompensating for my lack of real enjoyment in life by dancing and being generally overhappy. For some reason, although I'm as knackered as hell, this facade makes life just that little bit more bearable.

These feelings are clouding my judgement and I'm kind of wishing that I had the guts to phone someone so I could share these feelings and put a voice to them. But it's nearly midnight and I don't think that anyone would appreciate me phoning them, and of course the person I used to call my best friend; is no longer that. I'm just being stupid I know. For fuck's sake I'm seventeen and the world is not exactly falling apart so why do I feel like this? And more importantly when can I move on?

How adpt is the title of this blog?

2006-09-11T17:11:00.000+01:00

I'm back! (not that I expect anyone to have missed my posts!)
I was going to blog last week but I simply didn't have the energy to- in fact I was in bed for two nights running the moment I got in from sixth form. I felt that bad, how I managed not to throw up in English language I shall never know. But now I'm back and I intend to blog frequently, but quite often what I intend to do and what I end up doing are completely different.

After spending weeks not bothering to blog I've decided that perhaps I should. My life is on one of those weird and bizarre spirals were I seem to be doing everything and nothing all at the same time. My guess is that being back at sixth form has something to do with my general boredom with life. Now that my study periods match up with Nic, Alex, Caz and Kat, I have found myself in an even worse position than last year when it comes to putting the time to sufficient use. Lets see: is spending time giving a name to the pot plant in the library and then promptly serving it an A.S.B.O, simply a sign of extreme boredom or just another symptoms of my declining sanity levels? Hopefully I think it was simply the first, although I'm not at all confident!

I have found the reason as to why so many people are so unprepared to take B.S to A2 level. Today I was literally having to hold my eyes open. Standard deviation? Mean deviation? What the fuck?! I assume that those of you who were not deprived of decent cartoons when you were younger, will be familiar with the show 'Tom and Jerry', if you were deprived you should at least be familiar with the characters. (If you're not, shame on you!) I became so tired that having a couple of match sticks to keep my eyelids up would have been greatly received. (Hence the reference to the cartoon) It was as much as I could do to stop my head from dropping on to the desk, a bit like when 'Tom' is tired and paints his eyes open on his eyelids. If there had have been some paint handy...

So I went down the shop as I was bloody hungry and wanted, no I should say needed something unhealthy to eat. Then I overdosed on Lucozade tablets! Talk about a sugar rush...I was talking nineteen to the dozen on the way home and had an unknown energy. It was brilliant but I have to admit my energy levels have depleted rapidly. Is it possible that the decline in sugar levels is responsible? My head is fuzzy and I feel even more tired than before, so I suspect so. But like a binge drinker that knows whilst they are suffering a killer hangover that they will still drink, I know that when I find a burst of energy is required- I will once again turn to Lucozade!

I can't believe it was really a year ago...

2006-08-25T01:49:00.000+01:00

...That the class of 2005 received their GCSE grades.

I am sitting reminiscing, back to the days were the future was uncertain. Now, on the 25th August 2005 I didn't just have butterflies of anticipation in my stomach but huge terradactyls swooping through my bowel as fear gnawed at my throat and my brain chewed upon all the dreaded implications my grades could have for me. I hoped as I tears of joy sprung to my eyes and ran down my cheeks like there was a leaky faucet that it was the last time I would feel fear that raw. Turns out I was wrong, because I'd neglected to think as far as the AS results. The 17th of August 2006 is another one of those days which I don't think I shall forget in a hurry, both for good reasons and bad.

I know it's late to be blogging about AS results, with it now 8days ago but the thought of all the year eleven students who received their results inspired me. I know that I have been lucky with exams in as far as I was happy, 2 B's (nearly A's, I intend to make the marks up!) and a C are grades not to be sniffed at although my heart seriously goes out to all the students who are now finding that the world has changed on receiving that dreaded brown envelope. I was fortunate enough to have a family who assured me that they were proud of me whatever happened in both GCSE and AS, but I know that for me the person who would have been most disappointed if my grades were poor was myself. I have come to the opinion that many parents take a lot more notice than they should over the egotistical bastards that gloat each year and say that whilst the pass rate is increasing it's only because exams are getting easier. I challenge any of these wankers to take ten GCSE's and then still hold the same opinion on the ease of which students gain their grades. At sixteen, it is suddenly forced upon students to not only face the daunting prospect of being dejected from an education system which has been the only thing they've known since the age of five and leave friends and familarity behind, but also to force them to take exams in ten different subjects knowing that the outcome will drastically affect their prospects in the world post-compulsory education. I know for every ten people who were ecstatic with their results there is one student who now realises that they should have taken a different path.

The road forks at the end of year eleven, year twelve and most importantly at year thirteen. Now, I don't claim to know which way my road will fork but I'm thanking my lucky stars that I don't have to find out the destination after year thirteen yet. I know the way I want to go yet everything will once again rest on those bloody grades, which are of course way too easy!

Why I shall never read again...

2006-08-23T18:20:00.000+01:00

As I sit hunched over the keyboard typing this post, I can not help but wish that at the age of five/six my reception class teacher had never made me persist in learning to read. I have found that in the last few years reading has become so what of a curse to me. Don't get me wrong, I love it. For Christ's sake you try to separate me from a book and you wouldn't live very long, but you see this is the problem.

Anyone who knows me well will testify that I operate a different body clock to the average 'Joe Bloggs', and that I protest to anyone who says even remotely suggests that this isn't healthy that I work best in the early hours of the morning. I did, however as I heard my Dad leave for work at 7:05 this morning realise that perhaps my routine isn't normal. Yes, you guessed correctly, I was reading until that time. I can't even profess that I was doing something constructive or even reading something remotely up in the stakes of a bestseller. So, as my eyes drooped and the muscles in my back and shoulders were painfully tense from laying in an awkward position for the past 4 and 1/2 hours, I flumped down on my bed hit the light switch off and looked in horror at the clock. The glowing red digits rudely declared in an almost taunting manner that I had been up for 17 hours and of that time I had been reading for an astonishing ten hours! And, then as many a binge drinker declares the statement that they know and everyone else knows that they'll never keep to, I promised myself that I wouldn't read again.

7 hours later and can you guess what I doing? Yes, if you've read this much I suppose you can!

So it seems that I have fallen down to a condition, which it may seem to others is not lifethreatening, however it seems to be detrimental to my social life, academic life and the creation of my novel.

I am a selfproffessed binge reader!

I shall roll meine Augen und...

2006-08-12T10:37:00.000+01:00

Try to remember anything remotely German. There's no particular reason why I want to be able to speak German it's just that I was thinking last night about skills and things that we forget. I mean after three years of learning a language it really took no longer than three weeks after my exam for me to forget it all and be left with redundant phrases. Phrases such as 'Ich bin siebzehn yahre alt' or Ich wohne in Thurston'or even 'Sich verpissen' are not going to get me very far in Germany are they? If I did for some very bizarre reason decide to board a plane off to the jolly old Lederhosen wearing country (not that I have anything against the Germans) then how would I find my way around anywhere? I can vaguely recall questioning words such as 'Wo' which is 'where' and I suppose I could probably string out a 'Wo ist die/der/das...'. It seems weird that after struggling to learn a language for three years and supposedly gaining a 'C' grade in German, if I went to the country then I'd be in the same deprived situation many tourists find themselves in, when at the mercy of some snotty nosed shop keeper who refuses to acknowledge that they know what the tourist is trying to say. (I assume that Germany also has those shopkeepers that have no sympathy at all for people who do try to converse in a language that is not their own.)

I would also have the same problem if I attempted to speak French now, I'd been learning the language for what nearly seven years and still about the only phrases I can remember are such things as 'J'ai les yeux bleu' or 'un Cochon D'inde' (sorry if the atricle is wrong I can't remember whether it was supposed to be femine or masculine, I know I could type it in to google and translate it to find it out, however I wanted this to be a true reflection of my language skills.) I can however remember a few more phrases in French than I can in German, even being able to recollect a few aspects of grammar (yes shock horror I know!) such as using the past participle. Terms like the 'infinitive', 'past participle' and 'conditional tense' used to be part of my vocab but now the limitations of my knowledge on these would be with the English Language.

It seems a shame really doesn't it? To think I wasted three years on learning German and even worse I spent seven years learning French when I remember very little of it now. It makes you think really doens't it that perhaps the time was wasted both by me and the teachers that tried in vain to get me to learn it. I had no intention of forgetting how to construct a sentence in French in the conditional/perfect/imperfect etc, yet somehow my brain has taken it upon itself to deject the remaining morsels of language that did against all the odds manage to stay in my memory at least until the exams were over with.

I suppose the brain has its merits by chosing the things that we do most often to be at the forefront of our brains, but it also makes me question what schools should actually be teaching. How are percentages going to help me with teaching English? But by the same coin, how is Shakespeare going to help anyone who wishes to become an accountant? The type of things that are taught within certain subjects beggars belief in my mind, of the practibility of it when in the real world.

It's amazing...

2006-08-10T23:29:00.000+01:00

...The shit that you can find on the internet. I shall keep this post brief, but there were some funny results I received from 'ask' when I was looking for information on Food Standards. Not exactly relevant to what I wanted but...funny all the same!

GEORGE HERBERT WALKER BUSH - Huge Berserk Rebel Warthog

GEORGE BUSH - He bugs Gore

RONALD WILSON REAGAN - A long-insane Warlord (or Insane Anglo
warlord)

RONALD REAGAN - A darn long era

LEROY NEWTON GINGRICH - Yon Right-winger Clone

MARGARET THATCHER - That great charmer

THE CONSERVATIVE PARTY - Teacher in vast poverty

ELEVEN PLUS TWO - Twelve plus one

DORMITORY - Dirty Room

EVANGELIST - Evil's Agent

DESPERATION - A Rope Ends It

THE MORSE CODE - Here Come Dots

SLOT MACHINES - Cash Lost in 'em

ANIMOSITY - Is No Amity

MOTHER-IN-LAW - Woman Hitler

SNOOZE ALARMS - Alas, No More Z's

ALEC GUINNESS - Genuine Class

THE PUBLIC ART GALLERIES - Large Picture Halls, I Bet

A DECIMAL POINT - I'm a Dot in Place

THE EARTHQUAKES - That Queer Shake

THAT'S ONE SMALL STEP FOR A MAN, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND. -
A thin man ran; makes a large stride; left planet, pins flag on
moon! On to Mars!

Check out this link for more funny crap!

I don't fucking well believe this...

2006-08-08T23:35:00.000+01:00

This is a rant by the way.

Student loans, grants, tuition fees and the such like have frequented the news for ages, and it seems like there is nothing but bad press on the matter. Before, I've been quite sympathetic for the unis having to charge the high fees and hoped that in return for the money forked out by each and every student you could be ensured of value for money. However, what pisses me off is the fact that the amount a student can borrow depends on the finances of your family. This strikes me as severly unfair as they penalise the student for the money coming into a household that they no longer live in! Ok, so some parents will pay for their child's upkeep at university but I'm pretty damn sure that the majority won't. How is it fair that they assume that if parents earn over a certain set amount in combined income that they will automatically fund tuition fees, accomadation and the such like?

Ok, so this fucking annoyed me, so imagine my complete and utter disgust when I looked at the fees for studying a PGCE course after uni and found that they ALSO want to charge £3,000 a year, with the same kind of restrictions. It does however say that you will be paid whilst studying (£9,000 for the year), but this is not alot when considering it has to be spread out over Oct-June. It works out at £1,000 which at first glance sounds a lot but considering the amount of hours in school placements it entails plus having to finance such things as rent, food and the fees, it seems a little scary to me. The Student loan company will allow you to take a loan out to cover the fees too, but financial assistance is worked out upon "your family income". I would like to know whether this means at the age of 21/22 you still have to get details of your parents incomes to gain any financial assistance? To be honest 21 is supposed to be the age where you are a real adult, for Christ's sake at this age you could be married, have a mortgage and have kids but would they still want your parents details? I may however be doing the whole system a great injustice by assuming that they require these details to aid trainee teachers financially when perhaps I've misread the section, but somehow I don't think I am!

The power of the pen

2006-08-08T00:06:00.000+01:00

Now, this is completely odd for me being someone who will quite willingly spend a whole day non-stop on my laptop typing, but I've come to the conclusion that I far prefer to record things with the old fashioned pen and paper combination.

If you think about it people have done with this for years, so why is it in this technology era we have only time to email one another? Personally I think there is no substitute to receiving snail mail. I love to see an envelope land on my door mat and know instantly by the handwriting who has taken the time to write a letter out to me. Ok, so when you get an email Hotmail (or whatever you use) will tell you who has sent you an email but it's just not quite the same. I think with the over reliance our generation has with technolongy it has added an impersonal touch to our communication. When receiving a handwritten letter in the post, you can tell as much about how the other person is feeling from their handwriting as you can from the actual words used. I know for a fact that my handwriting (whilst not being the best), changes depending how I'm feeling or even what time of day it is. For all the reader of an email knows, the sender could be crying as they type or feeling any other emotion, but if the words don't state it then the chances are the reader would be oblivious. I'm not saying that emailing is crap, but isn't there that little bit more satisfaction of receiving a letter through the post? The handwriting is what makes it personal.

I sent an email yesterday, which I now regret. That sense of immediate delivery is another thing that makes me apprehensive as I become increasingly dependent on technology. You see I prefer writing out a letter as you have the time between when you write the letter and when you decide to post it to make sure that you've said things correctly. With the email I typed I read through it once, hit spellcheck and then promptly hit the send button, only to instantly regret doing so. It was quite a rude email for me to have sent really, because as a general rule I try not to swear in emails but in two pages of size 12 typed Arial, I swore using the 'F' word far too many times to be acceptable. Unsurprisingly I'm still waiting for a response from the recipient! If I had have written the letter out I probably would have drafted it many times before deciding on the exact way to phrase many things.

So my ultimate discovery from this experience? If there's something important which you want to write then either make sure you check it throughly before hitting send, or preferably take the time to write it out with that archaic device called the pen!

When will I see you again?

2006-08-05T01:00:00.000+01:00

First off, I've done fuck all today unless you count reading and writing one poem which is probably very shitty but I like it. I should probably at this point not be blogging as I have a thumping headache raging along the right hand side of my head, but I can't sleep. I may just get a coffee (will definitely have to be black as I tried to drink a white coffee the other day after drinking only black coffee for months, and it tasted foul) and then write some of my book. I went out this evening with Tom, Lindz and Sarah which was good, we had some very deep conversations and some very weird ones including the possibility of using snail slime to write expletives on people's cars! We even had a conversation about how snails have sex (apparently according to Lindz expert in everything to do with animals; "They don't, as they are hermaphrodites and lay eggs instead of giving birth". I checked this out and wikipedia agreed)

I was thinking today about creating my own version of a year book for the last year at TCC. As the topic of university and leaving all my mates behind keeps plaguing my thoughts, I keep wondering how best to savour memories. Photos have the power to sometimes invoke extreme emotions from the memory they have captured, yet I can't help but wonder if one day my photos will just hold vaguely familiar faces in places I can no longer remember. It would be a shame I think for this to happen given the strength of memory some of the photos hold now. This whole conundrum had me thinking back to all those unfulfilled promises of 'I'll keep in touch' from when we all left main school. Now the majority of the people I promised to stay in touch with; I have, but people like Charlotte and Ali have faded into nonexistent areas in my life. I know one day I shall look back on this moment, perhaps in five, ten or even twenty years time and think who the hell was it that I went to school with? Now, I hope that I shall only think of this in an abstract way when reminiscing with Nic or Lindz etc about who else we went to school with but I don't know. It seems impossible I know to think of life ten years down the line, and think that the people you couldn't imagine your life without now, might not be the people that you can't live without in ten years time. With all the methods of keeping in touch we have available to us now it seems that we should never lose touch but I have to admit for me it's already happened in many instances.

So as we all move onto pastures new next year, will I see you again? Will we meet up in the holidays when we're all back from uni? Or will we meet up at some crappy high school reunion in twenty years time not knowing whether that person standing beside you was the person you sat beside in double French with Bartley, or your high school best friend? I don't know the answers to these questions nor do I think that anyone does yet. What I can promise is that I will try to stay in touch with as many people as possible. It reminds me slightly of the song 'When lovers become strangers' by Cher, which I used to listen to when I was six and my Dad used to play it in the car.

"It's such a shame, when lovers become strangers,
It's such a shame when you don't know each other any more,
And the memories that you shared,
Are all that's still there,
It's such a shame when lovers become strangers."

If you substituted 'lovers' for 'friends', it makes sense doesn't it? To suddenly find that the only thing you have in common with your best friend is the memories you have of getting drunk at rugby club parties, singing songs when walking down Guildhall street, chunking snails over into gardens, changing the words on the white board so they resemble something rude... I could go on, but I think it's a shame when you lose touch with someone and then you move on and change and because you both change, and you no longer know one another.

After all this how should I best preserve my memories of all the people, places and times I never want to forget if I can't just freeze them? I realise now that we all rely on our memories a lot more than we'd care to admit. I know I do. So, what happens if that little area of your brain that you devote to memorising facts for an exam replaces a memory? Unfortunately memories fade away, I know the terror it can cause when you suddenly realise that you can't remember someone's voice or the exact shade of brown their eyes are, and so I aim to create a scrap book, photo montage, videos and to write a kind of journal. I know this is not a fool proof way of remembering everything because something will always slip through the net but hopefully I shall then be able to remember the majority.

I shall now have to stop blogging as my head is really starting to kill me, so bye for now. But remember I don't want to say goodbye for ever.

Can a dog get drunk?

2006-08-03T23:04:00.000+01:00

Today has been one fo those funny days where it just seems to go without you really feeling like you've accomplished anything. But, on reflection perhaps I have. I've written 1700 words (give or take a few), set up a webpage where I shall be publishing my poetry, wrote some poetry, gained some helpful insights and opinions from Nic with regards to my book and drunk 4 shots of vodka flavoured thingys. Lemon Meringue (sp?), Mint Choc Chip, Double Choc and Honeycomb. They were all very nice and I could have drunk them all night to be honest with you but there was only an eight pack and I drank four of them! The dregs left in the bottom of the glasses I then fed to the dog. (Is that legal?) Anyway it was hilarious to get a dog drunk, he's been wobbly ever since(not quite Nic style but...) Sorry for that Nic. Above is a pic of him normally and I shall try to load a video at some point once I've figured out how!

You can check my poetry page using the link 'Jen's Poetry' on the left hand side.

This is the first poem if you want to read, I've only put two on there at the moment, including this one.

HIM

I sit here wishing yet I know there's no good in it,

I wish I could just hate him,

I wish I could just bury the memories,

I wish I could erase him from my heart.

But I can't,

I can't just keep pretending,

I can't wipe away my tears,

I can't rid the images.

I know as I sit here,

He'll be kissing her,

He'll be holding her,

He'll be there for her.

Everytime I think I'm over him,

Something reminds me of him,

Something makes me smile,

Something makes me cry.

It makes me cry,

And the tears fall as I laugh,

And the tears fall as I sleep,

And the tears fall as my heart dies.

This is the first time I've really shared my poetry so I'm a weeny bit apprehensive! I shall be adding more poems as I find the ones out that I've previously written and never shared before.

Why is it?

2006-07-30T03:07:00.000+01:00

Why is it that my body clock functions differently to everyone else? It's currently 3:05 (according to the clock on the computer) and I'm completely wide awake, more so than I was at twelve midday today. Actually there is a reason why I'm more awake now than I was at noon. I didn't wake up until 12:45 today, but my excuse being that I didn't go to bed until 5:15 this morning so I had what 8 1/2hrs sleep? (correct me if my calculation is incorrect)

Anyway, thought that I'd post some flattering (erm...*coughs loudly*) photos of my mates. I know these people will probably kill me but just think about it, I'm sure you can get you're own back on me. Try Ringo, the photos Jess put on there would probably embarrass me!

I've been wondering as it happens, why it is that there are so many sounds in the house when everyone else is supposed to be in bed? I frequently sit up unitl the early hours of the morning and it never ceases to amaze me the little sounds that make up the supposed night. Like now, I can hear the fridge humming away to itself, cars going past, people moving about upstairs and the lizards shifting around in their vivs. These are by no means the only sounds I can hear, but I just find it odd. I love this time of the morning as its the only time that the house seems even remotely quiet.

I think I shall now finish off my emailing correspondence, because there really is very little point to this post!

Bow, down before me...

2006-07-29T02:04:00.000+01:00

For I have an IQ of 133!!!

"Your IQ score is 133!
Word Warrior

You are equipped with a verbal arsenal that enables you to understand complex issues and communicate on a particularly high level, making you a Word Warrior. Your command of words is so powerful that you are also a terrific communicator -- able to articulate big ideas to just about anyone.

The power of words translates to fresh ideas off paper too, in both artistic and creative pursuits. This allows you to be a visionary -- to extrapolate and come up with a multitude of fresh ideas."

I love doing silly tests like this, there's nothing better than sitting up at 2am doing quizes on the net when I should be writing my book! I am planning on doing absolutely bugger all today, it may be 2am but I'm not in the slightest bit tired. I had a weird conversation with Leonie on MSN a short while ago whilst I was searching for music videos to put on here (I shall explain the relevance of Dido's 'Thank You'). We had a long and interesting talk on the way one should best like to take coffee, discussing the various merits of black coffee versus UHT milk and so on, when we came across the question of whether tea has more caffeine in it than coffee. I shall now answer this for you: it doesn't. This link has all the information on it if you're in the slightest bit interested. http://www.stashtea.com/caffeine.htm

I have also come to the realisation that I most definitely shouldn't write my book in first person, even if it is just so I can get into the character's head so to speak. Problem with this being that I got into one of my character's heads by writing in first person and then couldn't seem to get out of it once I'd finished writing! I even started feeling ill like the character! It was spooky to say the least.

Right, now for the relevance of the video. This song is one I really like and I've always thought of it as a love song. Looking, though at this video it seems quite sarcastic. It always used to remind me of how somedays you just need someone there for you. Well, I do anyway. It's all well and good having friends, but sometimes we all need a bit more than that don't we? Like right now for example, if I had a bloke there'd be no chance that I'd be blogging at this time of night/morning. I suppose in a way this song is trying to say that as bads as a day gets, if there's someone there for you it makes everything seem just that little bit better. I wish...oh I do so wish... It's annoying to wish for something you can't have isn't it? Especially when you know you're not asking for something unattainable or greedy like wanting to win the jackpot on the lottery, but you still know that it's something that you can't have as much as you want it. I want some thing, or I should say someone, who I know I can't have and it hurts like shit. I do keep trying to move on, but everytime I think I have I remember who I can't have and it cuts just that little bit deeper. It seems like this feeling will never cease. And I don't believe in that crap about how 'time is a healer', for me it just makes things worse because time apart is worse than time together. All time seems to do is to highlight what I'm missing.

All this musing has made me think of the converstion I had awhile back about wanting to have the ability to turn off emotion. It seems as much as being able to experience emotions is part of being human, the type of emotions is too vast. How can I hate someone, yet love them at the same time? Why is it that time spent makes me happy, yet feel guilty at the same time? And more so than ever why is it that we never get to chose who we fall for? I never thought it was possible to think of someone every day nor did I think that it was possible to love so much that it hurts but now I've realised; you can. I wish I could rid him from my thoughts, yet I can't. Life, would it seems be easier to bear if we felt nothing. If I could turn my emotions on and off like a TV set, at least I'd be able to concentrate on other things. If I could turn my emotions off I could sit an exam without wasting time thinking of someone else and some place else I'd rather be. The list is endless for things, not having emotions could help with but I know that it's pointless thinking of them. I don't know whether though, if even if it has its merits, feeling nothing would be better. Because at the end of the day, where does feeling begin and end? Would it mean you couldn't feel the sun on your back? Would it mean you couldn't feel the grass on your toes as you walk bare foot in a park? Or could it be that because you can't feel any emotion, you can't feel anything?

Would there really be a life if no one felt anything? I have turned very odd and philisophical on you, haven't I? I suppose that's also what feeling does for you. It makes you prattle on about a load of shit that no one will read anyway!

2006-07-29T00:22:00.000+01:00

Free video hosting, video codes at www.vidiLife.com

2006-07-26T11:05:00.000+01:00

WARNING! RANT! WARNING!

2006-07-25T19:20:00.000+01:00

Have you ever had one of those days when you wish you'd never got out of bed? Well, today was once of those for me. So, here goes the rant.

It may only be the second day of the holidays but I am already, only too ready to go back. I'd be back in tomorrow if I had the chance. No I've not gone mad or become overly studious overnight, but I curse the fact that I have sisters. They don't seem to realise that it's supposed to be my holiday as well as theirs. It's constant bickering and when it's not that, it's physical fighting. Yes, I mean Samantha hitting Hayley and then Hayley kicking her back etc. I wouldn't mind so much if they had actual cause to fight, yet no, they seem incessant on fighting over whose done the most drying up or even what time I'm babysitting tonight.

That's another thing I want to rant about. Why is it that rich people seem to think that they can just treat everyone below them in class as a piece of shit that they've trodden in? Last Wednesday, the woman I babysit for asked if I could babysit this Tuesday (ie. Today) and tomorrow at 7 o'clock. So at 6:40, I set off from mine walking quite calmly listening to my music on my phone. I arrive at hers at 6:55, only for her to tell me that she tried to ring me to cancel this morning. I thought that this was strange as I only went out once this afternoon at 3 for about 20 minutes, and even then the house wasn't empty. I now thank the lord for my GCSE in drama because if not I would probably have been very rude to the woman. Turns out when I check out the 1571 that she had not tried to ring this morning, but this afternoon. This has all pissed me off but it's not just the fact that the short amount of notice is rude in itself but the fact that this isn't the first time it's happened!

Anyway, rant over with now!

Little bit of a teaser...

2006-07-25T17:00:00.000+01:00

I know Nic has definitely read this extract but I thought as I keep harping on about my book, that it was only fair to publish a little bit. So, here's the prologue...

Lost Chances: Prologue

Its funny, how sometimes things that have been so hard to see before suddenly become so apparent, isn't it? With a flash and a bang I can see where it all went wrong. Hindsight they say is a gift, and I have to admit it feels quite good to have it. From here I can see for miles, yet still it's not quite like I imagined it to be. Then again I don't know what I expected this to be like, I wish I could say that I had no expectations but I can't, what I will say is that I certainly didn't expect to be here yet. I thought it would year until I got to this point, in fact I didn't even know whether this existed. It seemed like some indefinable destination with an unknown journey length. But to be able to finally see the mileage on the speedo and the road sign, makes me uncertain as to whether I really want to be here. Could I have made a better go of it where I was? Should I really be here yet? But of course I don't know the answers to any of these questions as they fall down beside me as hopelessly as the words I use to voice them. Perhaps I should look on this as an opportunity to see others that got here before me, but the problem is that I know there's no going back. What I've gained from getting here, it strikes me, is nothing compared to what I've had to leave behind. I know I've lost my chances.

So, did you like it? Comments welcome.

2006-07-25T16:34:00.000+01:00

Ok, so this is one of the most random things. Me being me, decides to set up a blog with every intention of blogging every day but...I'm currently sitting at my Mum's (21.07.06) with my laptop but no internet. Anyway I'm staying at my Mum's for the weekend which means that I'm sleeping on the floor for two nights. So I packed my bag for the weekend, I remembered everything except my bloody pyjamas and my pillows. I have a feeling it's going to be an uncomfortable night, because this fucking bungalow is unbearably hot.

With this being the first official night of the long school holidays, it got me to thinking about the excitement in which I once viewed the expanse of time between now and September. I may sound cynical now, but I have to admit the magic that was once there has now diminished for me. Instead of eagerly anticipating all the unknown events, I now just see another six weeks which I shall probably waste. I have however, got great plans for how I am going to ward off the boredom monster.

The list includes lots of boring school work, so I shall not bore you with the details. I shall though being attempting to write a lot more of my book and rereading all of Jodi Picoult's books. Oh, and of course if I have any time left after that I may even contemplate sleeping and breathing!!!

Looking at the long list of things that I am going to do (which I didn't think was worth publishing!), I'm beginning to think that there's something to be said about being bored and having nothing that you have to do. Perhaps these long holidays should be spent some place else. I hear the beach yearning, the soft luxurious sand inviting the sun's dazzling rays, the soft lapping of the crashing waves against the rocks but more so than ever the topless boys that accompany the hot weather and beach. No, no, I have to stop myself thinking of the million and one places that appear somewhat more attractive than spending the whole summer studying when that is what I do for the other 40 weeks of the year. (Well I use the term 'studying' loosely, because it's not all work and no play!) I am beginning to sound as if I should be writing one of those really slushy romance novels, perhaps even one of those mills and boon books. I could even entitle it; 'Six long weeks in beach paradise'

Now this blog must stop here as I shall never become a budding novelist if I never finish my debut novel!

Oh my God...

2006-07-21T13:27:00.000+01:00

Hey up! Anyway, I've been finally convinced to join the hordes of other weirdos who have nothing better to do than tell everyone what they're doing in their lives, and so I shall try to publish a blog now and then. I suppose if I can't ever get a publishing deal then I shall publish it on here so that all can see it...for free!