Chasing Sheep

One of my favourite songs is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. I obviously have too much time on my hands as here I have sheepified it... urm... enjoy!

We'll ‘baa’ it all
Everything
In our flocks
We don't need
Anything
But pasture land
If I baa here
If I just baa here
Would you baa with me and just forget the world?
I don't quite know
How to say
How I feed

Those three plants
I eat too much
They're just enough

If I baa here
If I just baa here
Would you baa with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too cold
Show me a garden that's bursting into grass

Let's waste time
Chasing sheep
Around our field

I need to graze
So remind me
To find my grass
If I baa here
If I just baa here
Would you baa with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too cold
Show me a garden that's bursting into grass

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in this perfect field, grass all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things must never change for us at all

If I baa here
If I just baa here
Would you baa with me and just eat all the grass?

Countdowns

This is a funny time of year; Christmas has finished and we’re sort of in that limbo time before the New Year. The Christmas spirit has died down and the decorations and Christmas CDs floating around your house are starting to feel slightly out of place.
This Christmas, the commercial hype was largely overshadowed by the increasing encroachment of my 17th birthday. I have been looking forward to being able to learn to drive for so long that the present side of Christmas seemed pathetic in comparison. In fact, such is my excitement, my preparations have started early and I have all I need to drive except a car and my 17th birthday.

Getting ‘L’ Plates in my stocking, my provisional almost three months early and a Theory Test guide for Christmas may seem a little excessive but I am majorly excited. The thing is, this weird limbo time between Christmas and New Year dampens this excitement. How can I start counting down the days when New Year is yet to arrive and we’re not even in 2010 yet?

Nevertheless, I feel this hurdle must be leapt. I don’t tend to make a big deal about New Year and the countdown to my birthday reached the ‘one month’ mark a good few days before Christmas. Therefore I feel obliged to end this post with:

It is 21 days and 4 hours until my Birthday!

Define: Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve. School has finished for 2009, last minute shopping is being done, the snow has pretty much melted down here in Kent and Christmas day is only a matter of hours away. The thing is: what is Christmas really about? Most people will mutter something about a baby born in a stable or the importance of family but Christmas is so much more than that.

It really annoys me how people go to church once a year at Christmas and then label themselves ‘Christian’. Being a Christian is more than a label, it’s a way of life. Furthermore, the Christmas message is more than a nice little story about a newborn baby. Most people know how the Christmas ‘story’ goes: a virgin girl called Mary gets pregnant, Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem, there’s no room in any of the inns so the baby gets born in a stable. This baby is called Jesus and is so special he is visited by three wise men who give him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. He is also visited by some shepherds who were told about his birth by some angels. However, have you ever though about why this story is so significant?

Why did this baby come? This baby is Jesus, the son of God, who grew up to be the very same Jesus who died on a cross. He came into this world to live a perfect life – something we cannot do – and then receive the punishment that we deserve for our sins. We have broken God’s law – each one of us – and we deserve to be punished. However, Jesus was born so that we don’t have to receive that punishment; he lived the life that we could never live. If we trust in him and live our lives for him, his sacrifice was for us. This very same saviour is the one in the Christmas ‘story’, welcomed into the world in a stable: one of the lowest placed to be born.

Have you ever thought why the angels told shepherds about the birth of such an important saviour? Shepherds aren’t the most important of people now and they were even more insignificant back then yet God chose to tell them above any king or rich, important ruler. God is loving and wants to give this opportunity to those who don’t deserve it. We have chosen to turn away from God, live our own lives in the way that we want and totally ignore his teaching. Are we willing to turn from this way and welcome Jesus as the shepherds did?

Jesus is not just a baby in a story. He is God who came into this world as a human. He gave up his rights as ruler over all; he rejected his power and authority to be born in a stable and save sinners such as us. I am going to church tomorrow but it’s not that which makes me a Christian; I’m not perfect, in fact I’m always doing wrong things, but I have put my trust in Jesus who came down to take the punishment for my disobedience in my place and I try and live my life in light of that fact. Is the Christmas message just another ‘religious story’ to you or have you thought about what it really means and why so many people remember it?

Scrapbook of My Life

Today, two of my friends came round my house to deliver THE best Christmas present ever. Nestled in a plastic bag was a scrapbook. Not an empty scrapbook, mind you; the pages are full of pictures and text relating to the various things that I get obsessive about and talk about way too much!

From the turn of the first page, I was in hysterics: capturing two of my obsessions, Terrie and Maryam had placed a Rubik’s cube on the cover of Twilight. Following this was a montage of all my other obsessions. From everything Doctor Who related to my many sheep rhymes. From Twilight to my ability to merge David Tennant, Carlisle and Rubik’s cubes!

Many of the pages are filled with quotes from Twilight, Doctor Who and my favourite YouTube songs. It must have taken Terrie and Maryam so long to find them all! Additionally, not a single one of my favourite quotes are missing.

 Admittedly, I did get a number of texts from Maryam asking “Whats ur Fave lyrics out of hey Kristina by luke conard?” and “Is there anything in particular u like about the vlogbrothers...?” However, they also included others that they knew I liked simply due to my persistent mentioning of them! Although, we’re still not convinced on the wording of “This is my Timey Wimey Detector. It goes ‘Ding’ when there’s stuff. Also it can boil an egg at 30 pages. Whether you want it to or not actually – so I’ve leart to stay away from hens – it’s not pretty when they blow!”

If I was asked to pick a favourite page, I would have to say I couldn’t. Each page represents a different one of my crazes and almost completely sums up my life. According to Terrie, if/when I get a new boyfriend, I am to give him this scrapbook and tell him to learn it! I’m not sure that learning this off by heart will give any guy a total insight to my life but I would definitely be impressed if they started quoting Doctor Who, YouTube and Twilight as much as I do!

Apparently, I’m meant to continue filling the scrapbook. There are a number of blank pages left and I am meant to continue documenting my fads and phases throughout the coming years. I already have a number of ideas so I better get cracking...

Non-tleep Rhymes

One lunch time, I got very bored and my friend had free texts. This resulted in me condensing my randomness into rhyme-sized chunks and texting them to some friends. Somehow, this caught on and it has become a regular occurrence for me to text many of my friends with weird rhymes whenever I have a supply of free texts.
You’re probably wondering about the name: non-tleep rhymes. They were originally tleep rhymes: Rhymes because they were often based on things like “Hickory Dickory Dock” or “Row, Row, Row your Boat” and tleep based on trock. Trock is Time Lord Rock: songs based on the TV series Doctor Who. My rhymes often involved sheep and doctor who so I combined the two. Teep sounds funny and tsheep is just unpronounceable, meaning I settled with tleep. For some reason (I can’t think why!) one of my friends who is a fellow Doctor Who fanatic, felt that calling them tleep rhymes was unfair on the music genre of trock and the TV series as a whole. Therefore, the ‘non’ was placed in front to ‘keep Terrie happy’.

In response to my previous post, I thought I would post my non-tleep rhymes, just to show you what Jemma was inflicted with to cause her to give me such an amazing Christmas present!

I like sheep,
Sheep like me,
I will have one for my tea;
With a little bit of gravy and a potato too,
I like sheep and I like you!

 
Sheep are white,
Sheep are brown,
I can see them in the town.
The ones in France are green and pink.
But never put one down the sink.


1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
Once I caught a sheep alive.
6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
Then I let it baa again.
Why did it baa before?
Because a cat sat on a door.
Why did the cat sit there?
Because an elephant was on the chair!


Baa, Baa, Baa the sheep,
trotting round the field.
Flipity flopity, clipity clop;
Life is not a cow.

 
Three blind sheep,
Three blind sheep.
See how they baa,
See how they baa.
They all went off to France together;
They had their lunch with a goat called Heather;
They didn't see an elephant, however,
They do like cheese.


Twinkle, Twinkle little sheep,
Candyfloss is not as sweet.
Up above the seagulls glow.
Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Po.
Twinkle, twinkle little sheep,
Candyfloss is much too sweet.

[And then Maryam's version!]


Twinkle, Twinkle little sheep,
How I wonder where you sleep.
Up above the cows so high,
Like a sheepy in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle little sheep,
How I wonder where you sleeeeep!

Baa, Baa, candy sheep,
Have you any tea?
Yes anonymous person, I have some free.
Give some to The Doctor,
And lots to me,
and one cup to the policeman, living by the sea!




There were sheep in my bed and The Doctor said:
Sonic Screwdriver, Setting 14.
There were sheep in my bed and Capt'n Jack said:
I've a banana, you'll do shelves.
There were sheep in my bed and Donna said:
You know you can fix that chameleon circuit if you just try hotwiring the fragment links and superseding the binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary
*gasps*

 
Ring-a-ring of Tardii,
A pocket full of sonic.
Binary... Binary...
We all love sheep!

 
The sheep on the bus go baa and quack,
bleat and moo, oink and snif.
The sheep on the bus go baa then bleat,
All day long!

 
Hickory-dickory-dock,
A sheep lives in my sock.
I at a bun;
Go up not down.
Higgledy-piggledy-pop.

 
Jack and Jill, went up the hill,
To fetch a very large sheepie.
Jack fell down,
There materialised a clown,
And Jill fed the sheep some sherbert.

 
(Jemma's extra special birthday rhyme!)


How much is that sheepie in the window?
The one with the candyfloss tail.
How much is that sheepie in the window?
I do hope that sheep is for sale.

I'll give it to Jemma for her birthday,
The one with a 'J' not a 'G'.
I hope she'll go 'hip-hip' and 'hooray'!
But I've just got 35p...

 
There was a sheepie called fred
he's blue and lives under your bed
Rose said 'ok'
now smile away :)
but the Doctor's just banged his head.

 
A man and a dog went 'baa'
cheese fell down from a star.
The Doctor and me,
went out for some tea,
and you came too: hoorah!

 
There was a sheep called Claire,
Her anglerfish has no hair.
The Doctor needs a friend,
Tennant’s coming to an end,
And he doesn’t like the taste of pear.

 
The wheels on the bus go round and round,
I’m about 7 feet above the ground.
I wish the Doctor were here with his thing that should spin,
I should be revising ‘cos I don’t know anything.
The chavs at the back are playing their music ‘well loud’,
The moon is hidden by a big cloud.
Matalan was busy and the bus was late.
Just give me Charlie or Alex or Liam on a plate!

Dear Santa...

When you think of Christmas, one of the first things that most people think of is the exchanging of presents. It may not be the true meaning of Christmas (more on that another time) but giving and receiving presents come up pretty high on most people’s idea of what their perfect Christmas should contain. Obviously, the type of present people long for often varies from person to person and “Personal or shiny?” is a question that is battered about a lot. Some people are disappointed if lots of money hasn’t been spent on them while others would be happy with anything so long as a lot of thought and time had been put into said present.
I prefer personal presents. Sure, I won’t complain if someone spent £100 on me buying something I said I wanted (like an iPhone *hint hint*...) but a short, handwritten letter means so much more: A note or drawing that has a little story behind it. Receiving something that makes only you and your close friends smile - because you’re the only ones who understand it - lasts so much longer than a nice scarf that will undoubtedly be left at the back of the wardrobe, forgotten, this time next year.

You can’t really put a price on personal gifts. They can physically cost less than a pound and yet encapsulate many years of friendship and fun. My room is full of those sorts of gifts: a photo capturing a moment of fun; an autograph reminding me of two days of excitement in Birmingham; a whole host of cards saying congratulations for various things; and little notes summarising shared memories. It is these things that take pride of place on my walls and shelves rather than the objects, like a necklace or scarf, given for the sake of giving a present.

How you are given these presents also matters a great deal. Being given a rock on its own it a bit anticlimactic and, if anything, just plain rude. However, if you were to wrap it up nicely in wrapping paper you know I’d like and attach a short note, the value of that stone soars. Rather than just being a piece of rubble, it’s something that reminds you of friendship and times shared. Ok, so maybe not everyone quite understands my appreciation for large pebbles, but surely people get where I’m coming from. Personal gifts are just so much nicer, simply because of the thought and time put into them.

This year, my trip up to Nottingham and then the snow has meant that I’ve been unable to swap presents with many of my friends. However, one that I received before leaving for Nottingham really made my day. The main present was a bar of white chocolate. Not a bad present as such, but once you’ve eaten it (as I had by break time the same day) there is nothing left to remind you of the sentiment. Nevertheless, this present came with one extra thing: a note. Unless you understand my obsessions with sheep, Doctor Who and France, and my tendency to mix the three in bizarre forms of rhymes you won’t really understand this note. Nonetheless, my friend had suffered many texts with such rhymes involved and decided to write her own. Just the effort of writing her own and actually thinking to do so was amazing, let alone the fact that the contents made me smile! Having your friends remind you that they know you well, appreciate your bizarreness and remember previous time is just as great a gift as being given something expensive that will undoubtedly go out of fashion.

I will leave you now with the note that made my Christmas! (Or at least so far!)

Hannah,
Now I know I will never attempt an amazing tleep rhyme but I am going to try...

 
This is Jemma’s tleep rhyme
Heard all along the river Rhine
‘Baa’ they hear her friend Hannah say
‘Not near the Rhine in France it’s not far away!’

So France they all go,
Tinky, Winky, Dipsy, Po =P
Hannah, Jemma and all the sheep
Just to hear Jemma’s rhyme tlep.

They got to France where all the sheep were blue
‘What’s going on?’ ‘I haven’t a clue’
So to Hannah’s house they decided to go
Tinky, Winky, Dipsy, Po
Hannah, Jemma and all the Sheep
Just to hear Jemma’s rhyme tleep

At Hannah’s house things weren’t quite right,
It gave Hannah, Jemma and the sheep quite a fright,
A strange noise in the wind it blew
Wait a minute it’s Doctor Who!

After the Doctor had been and gone
They heard Jemma’s tleep rhyme and burst into song
But the Doctor was not there so Hannah was not very pleased.
But she did like Jemma’s tleep rhyme, the sheep and ..... cheese?

btw, I will explain tleep soon!

Let it snow.

Yesterday, the white stuff began to descend on areas around the UK. For once, I was in the group of people who actually didn't want it. I normally love snow but being up in Nottingham meant that I didn't want to get stranded! Fortunately, my Dad and I arrived home before the snow started to settle properly. Nevertheless, I hadn't seen my friends for a week and was looking forwards to going to school today.
 
This morning, I woke up to find a thick layer of white covering everything outside my window. With a hopeful attitude, I started getting ready for school; I had a bag full of presents and wanted to be able to go to school for the last day of the year. Unfortunately, my Mum came into my room with the information that the bus wasn't running. The snow had stranded me at home with no way to deliver presents to my friends at school.

The cold, white stuff that is snow attempted to ruin my Christmas. BUT DO NOT FEAR! Tomorrow I will become Postman Pat and deliver those presents...

Greetings of a Rubik nature

I think it's funny how the phrase "Hi, I'm Hannah. What's your name?" is rarely the way we start talking to complete strangers. Conversations often begin with either a compliment or a comment over obvious shared interests.

Today, between lectures, one such acquaintance was formed. Lauren noticed me teaching someone else how to solve a Rubik cube and before long, we were talking and I was taking her through the steps of solving the cube.

However, today has been so jam packed with lectures and information about becoming a vet and university I'm amazed I've had any time to socialise. Admittedly, we had a slightly extended lunch break due to a change in timing. However, lectures have been almost solidly from nine am until ten thirty pm with only short breaks and meal times between. Nevertheless, what we're being told is amazingly interesting. Our last lecture today was on geriatric cats which our head of sixth form would have loved!

Each talk makes becoming a vet an increasingly scary option. However, the general lifestyle and varieties fascinate me; so I just hope I'll be able to learn all the long medical terms!

Alone in a crowd

Going up to someone I don't know and initiating conversation with them is not one of my strong points. I can happily talk to my friends for hours on end but I suddenly become incredibly shy if you put me in a room of strangers. Therefore, it is no surprise that prior to coming up to Nottingham for this Vetmedlink course, I was incredibly nervous.

The journey up was fine. Besides the inevitable getting lost five minutes from arriving, I had an enjoyable 4-5 hours just listening to music, talking to my dad and educating him on the ins and outs of Trock. However, this time sped by quickly and after saying goodbye, I was left alone in a place which I didn't know with people I had never met before.

I decided that the best thing I could do was to wander around to get my bearings and hope to meet someone else doing likewise. Before long, I found a couple of girls who were just as lost as me but were meant to be going in the same direction. Between us, we found our way to the correct lecture hall and found some seats. Somehow, I ended up sitting next to a guy and a girl and, in the breaks, started chatting. They seemed pretty nice and I established that his name is Stuart. I've spent much of the afternoon sitting with them in the various lectures and also discovered that Stuart is into Rubik's cubes! In one break, I ended up talking him through how to solve one. Rubik's cubes will either form friendships or break them!

Eventually, lectures finished at 10:30 and I'm now wondering what tomorrow will bring...

Bus stop etiquette

I absolutely hate waiting for the bus. It's always late (yes, Stagecoach, that is a compliant!) and when it is, not only am I late to my destination but I've found that total strangers see it as a reason to talk to me. I don't know whether this is because I look particularly approachable and knowledgeable of why the bus is late, or that it is part of an unwritten rule I am yet to discover. Either way, I don't like it.

I'm the sort of person who really doesn't like it when strangers in the street initiate conversations. When at the bus stop, I like to absorb my self in my own world: mp3 turned up, headphones in and my thoughts to myself. Anyone trying to enter my personal bubble is strongly disliked. Nevertheless, people often think I'd actually quite like to talk. However, contrary to their view, I do not know when the bus is coming (I mean, if I did, surely I wouldn't be waiting in the cold and rain longer than I have to?) Also, I certainly don't want to know about last time the bus was late. I have enough of those stories myself to add other people's tales of woe to my databank.

A week or so ago, one particular guy though a late rating of five minutes was sufficient waiting time before initiating conversation. I don't know about you, but I'm never surprised when a bus is just a few minutes late. (It's not like we live in Tokyo where it is rare for their train to be even a minute late, let alone five.) Nevertheless, these five minutes were apparently an acceptable length of time to wait before starting a conversation about bus lateness. Additionally, there were a lot of other people at the bus stop. It wasn't just me and this guy standing at the stop alone! However, his beady eyes picked me out and he strode the length of the bus stop just to say "are you getting the 400? It's late isn't it?" If he had left it there, I may have let him off, but no: he continued talking! Me being me, I didn't really want to be too rude, but I also did not want to be having a meaningless conversation with a random, unknown guy, especially when I had a bag of Wine Gums in my bag that I had previously been munching on contentedly.

Eventually, this guy left me alone, but that wasn't the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last either! Nevertheless, I fear that this may be the fate I face until I am able to switch a bus ticket for car keys... Come quickly 17^th birthday!

Sniff and Tell.

Smells are funny things. Some are nice, some are not so nice. Nevertheless, so many of them remind you of different things: places, events, childhood memories. Some smells trigger bad memories while others trigger memories that take you on a long journey of nostalgia.

Sometimes, smells catch you off guard. For example, around a year ago, I was washing my hand in some public toilets when the smell of the soap suddenly reminded me of the boyfriend I had broken up with only a month previous. I had spent six months smelling the same smell on him and to smell it again just threw me.

However, not all smells ignite difficult memories. I have a particular body lotion which is like a mental cocktail of memories every time I smell it. I mostly use it when I go away to various places so it reminds me of the different places I've stayed. Mainly, it reminds me of Easter Camp 2009. The smell transports me back to the small bathroom in our room and from there takes me on a journey through all that I got up to on that week. A week of long walks, shower disasters (the fire alarm went off in the middle of my shower!), games of pool, and inspiring talks come rushing back to me, all from a simple sniff.

Obviously, not all smells trigger such specific memories. Smells like fresh cut grass and barbeques remind me of a wide range of things and seem to prompt a different pleasant summertime memory each time they're smelt. One time, the smell of grass may transport me back to summer afternoons in primary school where I would stay out on the lawn as late as possible until shadows encased the garden. Another time, the smell may trigger memories of the many late night walks I went on during Crowborough Camps 2004-2007. From there I may then remember the many deep discussions I had with the various leaders and the times we laid down under the stars singing hymns until someone unwittingly shouts "car!"

So many smells seem to remind me either of the Christian camps I've been on. I guess this is because they were such a big part of my life. If I hadn't gone on these camps would not have become a Christian when I did and what I've been taught on them has played a large part in shaping who I am today. I've met so many great friends on these camps and maybe it's a good thing that I've got these smells to remind me of the great times I had. Whatever the trigger, I would hate to forget so many of the great memories that I have that shape who I am and, I guess, who I am going to be.
 

He’s cute, but he’s no David Tennant!

Like any other teenage girl, I am guilty of helping with the creation of celebrity 'hot' lists. Almost every girl has had some sort of crush on either a celeb or a character they play at some point. Obviously, I am no exception!

One maths lesson, one such hot list was being created and I happened to mention that I thought David Tennant was 'eye candy'. My friends were shocked at this suggestion and had never heard that expression before, let alone thought that themselves! Nevertheless, they had this idea milling around their minds, reorganising their opinions on David Tennant's looks. This process has now been fully developed and any rating system is relative to Tennant himself!

Last week, the phrase 'He's cute, but he's no David Tennant' was coined. After my trip to Birmingham, Gareth Malone's looks were discussed and it was proposed that he could be a young David Tennant look-alike. Most people agreed that the two looked very similar. However, one friend insisted that Gareth Malone would never be able to replace David Tennant!

This year, I have had the official Doctor Who calendar pinned up on the wall. Although not every month has a photograph of David Tennant as the doctor, this month, he is there. Ironically, in this photo, he looks a lot like Gareth Malone. Normally, I'd say that Malone looks like Tennant but, for some reason, this picture looks the other way around... Nevertheless, I'm not complaining!

Fame is relative.

On Wednesday 25^th, my school had a gig run by the infamous site MySpace. Chipmunk and You Me at Six were coming and, although I didn't go, I was unable to avoid the excitement that resounded around the school all morning. Girls were getting over excited as MySpace tech men scurried around the corridors and some people in my yeah did all they could to help backstage for the day. Many banners were made and I even saw one girl with "Chipmunk" written on her cheek in eyeliner with five hours still to go until 'The Bash'.

The thing is: I really wasn't that fussed about the people playing. You may gasp but, to me, 'Chipmunk' is either the annoying guy who fuelled our GCSE art lessons with an appalling rap to debate (I mean, "Chip-diddy-chip"?! some originality please!); or a little fury animal! The other band (You Me at Six) I had only ever heard of before because they're the supporting act at the Paramore gig that my mate is majorly excited about. To me, neither are particularly famous and there are other people I would much rather see and meet.

On the other hand, when I heard that the Jazz Orchestra would be working with Gareth Malone, I was extremely excited! I'd watched his BBC programs and recognised the name immediately. In contrast, some of my friends had no idea who he was. When I mentioned his name, they drew a blank thinking I had gone mad. Nevertheless, I was thrilled to have the chance to meet him and to me he is most certainly famous!

(I think, at this point, I should qualify what I mean by famous. I'm not talking about how many people follow their work and know their name; I'm talking about how different people revere different people in the public eye. Like how some people pay more attention to some people and their lives than others. Similarly, someone can be famous in one particular town but, in another, can be known but nobody. But here, that town is my personal life bubble.)

Some of you will have no idea who I'm talking about if I say the names Alex Day, Luke Connard, Charlie McDonnell or Kristina Horner. Your average person probably has absolutely no idea who they are but, in the realm of YouTube, they are stars. My friend and I know more about YouTubers like them than any celebrity you might find in OK magazine. In our world, they are majorly famous and meeting them would beat meeting Katie Price any day!

Lots of people want to be famous. However, many of them just want to be remembered. The thing is, how well can you remember the 'celebrities' of just a few years ago? Can you remember the winners of shows like Pop Idol or Fame Academe? Could you recite all the winners of X Factor from the very first series? I honestly have no idea. However, I do remember my primary school teachers and other people like them: they made a lasting impression on my life unlike the riff raff of the celebrity world. To me, my primary school teachers are just as famous as any number one, best selling artist: and they certainly made more of an impact!

This is my dream... [Birmingham Part 2]

At 7.30, Highworth Jazz Orchestra was set up for practice. A short while later the teacher's entered. Their response to us was amazing. None of them knew that we would be accompanying them and their jaws dropped when they saw all 75 of us sitting up on the stage. Rehearsals started, giving us the amusement of watching twenty or so nervous teachers singing to an empty auditorium. They started out with a bizarre entrance that involved them entering from the seat and walking up to the stage. The first time they all sat very close together and, like little kids, had to be encouraged to spread out. They started by quietly miming how they would say "excuse me" and make their way up to the stage. However, they were told to make much more commotion. If they were asked what they were doing they were to reply "I am drawn to the stage!" However, we thought there might be a flaw with this. What if others around them concluded that they may also be drawn to the stage? Having other random people walk up to the stage would certainly spoil the whole effect! This spectacularly cheesy entrance and the catchiness of the song meant that the whole performance was pure parmesan with extra mozzarella. Between encouraging the teachers and singing along too, Gareth Malone decided to brutally cut part of what our teacher on the piano was playing. Between songs, there was a slight tempo change and he didn't quite manage to pick this up straight away. Instead, this meant that it was just the drums and guitar playing at this point but, hey, the guitar sounded cool! After an hour or so of practice, our time was up and we finally got some breakfast.

While we were feasting on small warmish croissants and fruit (you know, we had an excessively large amount of fruit thrown in our direction during these two days), Gareth Malone came into our little room. Two of the Jazz Orchestra members had been asked by a teacher to interview Gareth for the school magazine and had organised to meet him to ask a few questions. While he was getting a cup of tea, I approached him to get his autograph. Being the first to do so (obviously not ever, that would have been odd!) I felt incredibly fan-girlish! Handing him my Sharpie pen and notebook, I meekly asked him if I could have his signature. Being the kind man that he is he said yes and proceeding with small talk like "what's your name?" and "which instrument do you play?" By this time, a queue was starting to build behind me so - not wanting to seem rude - I let other get his autograph. Nevertheless, he used my Sharpie pen! And I stood next to him a few more minutes whilst he used it to sign other autographs. Now I really do sound like a fan-girl! Must be the Tennent-esque look...

After Gareth Malone left and I had overcome the excitement of meeting him, the Gospel Choir arrived. We had obviously practiced with them before, only this time we had a full dress rehearsal on the stage. In previous rehearsals, they had seemed very quiet compared to us, but they had gradually got louder and louder! By now, we were totally sick of playing "Aint No Mountain" and had tuned and retuned our instruments a number of times.

Finally, we went onto the stage for the actual performance. We were opening the final part of the teachers' conference. (Hey, why not watch it here! Third video down!) After an obviously wonderful rendition of "Aint No Mountain", we had a short 'comfort' break. We then stepped onto the stage in Birmingham for the very last time to close the show with Gareth Malone! From the beginning there were problems. Gareth's keyboard was not switched on properly. While he made excessive gestures striking silent chords, one of the teachers was left counting on his fingers in the middle of the stage. Eventually, Gareth Malone ran round to the other piano and the performance could finally start. (Hey, watch this performance too! Bottom video!)

Departing from the stage, we headed back to the little room in the ICC. There we grabbed a perfectly packaged packed lunch. With the paper bag, apple (yes, more fruit!), and drink with straw, it reminded me of the sort of lunch that the Famous Five would pack! Although, for some reason, they gave the option of a variety of fillings but assumed that everyone likes apples, orange juice, ready salted crisps and Kit-Kats. I'm sorry, but I'm not everyone: I don't like orange juice! (Although, me being me, I drank the carton anyway!)

We were then set to depart for a performance in a school. However, before the drive could even take off the handbrake, we had two rather epic panics. Firstly, one of my friends went shouting down the centred of the bus: she thought that her violin had been left in the ICC. She ran back into the centre leaving the rest of us very bemused. Her violin had been sitting at her feet all the time. A very embarrassed violin player sat back down in her seat and we thought that it would now be OK to go. We were wrong! The teachers started running between the coaches: a girl hadn't answered the register and was potentially missing. Nevertheless, it was merely a repeat of the violin incident; she had been sitting on the bus all the time and the only problem was that the teacher hadn't heard her say yes to her name!

Eventually we set off. However, the traffic was terrible and we arrived at the school an hour late. Finally, we arrived to find that we outnumber the audience by quite a bit! The audience consisted of a number of the teachers (one of whom was the sister of our head of sixth form!) along with some parents, pupils and a few old people. One of the old ladies punctuated our performance with extra dialogue between songs! It was also rather amusing to watch the boys in the audience: they were trying to act 'too cool' but obviously loved the fact that their school hall was now full to the brim with teenage girls! There was also a particular group sitting at the back who were 'discreetly' whispering as we entered. At one stage later on, a look of amazement came over their faces and I'm pretty sure that was because they had just noticed that our drummer is a girl! After a number of songs, our performance came to an end. We quickly packed up and grabbed a biscuit (the one I had was very yummy) and drink (well, some people did, but it had run out by the time I went to get one).

Finally, we were on our way home. Our journey involved much more Rubik's cube-ing (we established that my quickest time is approximately 2 minutes 12 seconds but I'm yet to beat that.) The bus drivers also offered us the opportunity of watching a film and we ended up watching "Bring it on again" until just before our service station stop. I'm sorry if you like that film, but it had absolutely no plot at all. I think the plot summed up would be girls Start College and join cheerleading squad. Girls don't like how they're treated so start own squad. The two teams compete to see who is best. The new 'good' one wins. The end. After this torture, we were then informed that after the services stop we would be watching Jack Frost. We decided that we had watched enough rubbish films and bought a film at the services in protest! One pre-watched copy of The Spiderwick Chronicles, a bag of sweets, more Rubik cubing and a lot of noisy younger years at the back later, we arrive back at school. We may have arrived back an hour late but our trip to Birmingham was way better than the lessons I would have had: Maths, Maths, and Chemistry!

I wanted to be a writer, but I was given the wrong careers advice. [Birmingham part 1]

At 12.30 on 26^th November, I left lessons early in order to commence the long journey up to Birmingham with Highworth Jazz Orchestra. I've never been to Birmingham before, although I have attempted to master the Brummy accent. When I met two girls from Birmingham on a camp I went on, they attempted to teach me the ins and outs of their accent. Nevertheless, my terribly limited repertoire of "me dook's in a baath in Burrmingum" and "paasta cheese and chocolate saouse" was not needed as our visit mainly revolved around two short performances in the closing of a teachers' conference at the ICC.

Travelling from Kent to Birmingham meant we had a long journey. However, we managed to keep ourselves occupied! Our journey began with a safety video explaining what we should do to ensure our journey was as safe and comfortable as possible. Besides staying in our seats and fastening our seatbelts, the video suggested doing small leg exercises periodically throughout the journey. The cartoon lady then proceeded to stretch her legs out in front of her. Being the cool teenagers that we are, my friend and I promptly started doing the demonstrated exercises, only to discover that we did not have enough room! In the video, the lady had ample room to stretch her leg out to almost full length. However, we were unable to do so without kicking the seat directly in front of us. After we established the pointlessness of these 'safety' exercises, one of the younger years also decided to ignore the "stay in your seat" aspect of the safety video. She was soon sneaking up and down the central isle, attempting to avoid the attention of the teachers. My friends and I stayed 'safely' in our seat with a Rubik cube. I spent most of my time eating, teaching people how to solve a Rubik's cube, and getting over excited about the guy we were soon o meet for rehearsals.

After terrible traffic causing us to be pretty much an hour late, we arrive at the ICC for our rehearsal. We thought the guy we were to rehearse with may have got fed up with waiting, or at least be annoyed with us, but no: Gareth Malone was there with a warm smile and his Tennant-esque glasses. Welcoming us all, he started handing out music, eager to get started.

As Gareth explained, these two pieces had only been completed a matter of hours before. A small group of teachers had written the song in a workshop two days previous and Gareth Malone had devised an accompaniment so that Highworth Jazz Band could assist them as they performed. Although these teachers were heads of departments and head teachers, few of them had any musical experience and the tune was simple but incredibly catchy! Most of the orchestra (me included) have had the lines "This is my dream... This is my dream... Nothing can stop, or cut, my dream!" going round on constant repeat since! Our cue lines were hardly forgettable either: "I couldn't believe it was living, living in my school!" and "I wanted to be a writer but I was given the wrong careers advice." (Hence the title of this blog!)

This first evening practice was rather surreal. I seemed to be constantly flicking from concentrating on flute playing to amazement that there wasn't a TV screen between me and Gareth Malone. I watched his series on BBC 1 called 'The Choir', and his program on how a choir works, and I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that it was the orchestra that I was playing in that he was now conducting. I suppose, the fact that he bares a certain resemblance to David Tennant also had a part to play considering I'm such a big fan of Tennant as the Tenth Doctor! Nevertheless, our rehearsal was soon over and we were whisked off for something to eat.

Somehow, I don't think the organisers quite realised the numbers of us in the Jazz Orchestra. Half way through serving us our food, they ran out of plates! Furthermore, those who did have plates ended up sitting on the floor to eat their dinner. Nevertheless, we were just happy to have some food after a long afternoon of travelling. The vegetarian lasagne and chicken a la king dish with rice rapidly disappeared leaving a group of tired, but happy and contented teenagers.

Next, we headed off to the hotel to get a rest before an early start the next morning. After being informed to look after the sheet music, we collected our room key (well, one of those funny credit card-like swipe-card things) and headed up to our third floor room. After a squished journey up in the lift with a small family of foreign visitors, my friend attempted to open the door. When I say attempted, I mean she managed to try the key in the door every way up, except the correct way! Eventually, the door opened to reveal a box. Three of us were sharing one room and it seemed that to entertain us for the night we had a TV and a space not much bigger than my bedroom at home. The first thing we noticed (besides the size) was the beds. There was a double bed with a single bunk on top. This meant two of us had to share. After we decided that I would be one of the ones to share, we settled down to watch the TV. (Well, what else was there to do after we had already been talking for about five hours on the coach up?) Later, when getting changed into our pyjamas, we discovered just how small the toilet was. I concluded that there was no room to swing a cat and the lack of lock was just bizarre. Additionally, to wash our hand, we had to leave the toilet and use the little sink in the corner of the room. Next to this sink there was also a small shower. Although we didn't use this as we were only there for one night, we discovered that the handle was a terrible design. Instead of a handle, it had a hole. Therefore, if anyone had used the shower, we could have easily seen through, whether we wanted to or not! There was also a distinct lack of plugs. Apart from the one for the TV, only one other could be found. This left us competing over who should use it to charge our phone and prevented the simultaneous use of straighteners and phone charger!

During the evening, we inevitably spent a large portion of the time talking. I love how, on sleepovers and when room sharing, you always end up talking about stuff you'd never usually talk about. And, just and inevitably, the teacher will always knock telling you to keep the noise down whenever you're talking about the things you would never want them to hear! It's also nice to share with new people: people you've never shared a room with before and have a chance to get to know them. Nevertheless, it's still odd sharing a double bed with someone you don't know particularly well!

I spent most of the night being woken up by the traffic. Being used to the near silence of the house on the outskirts of town next to a field, this was inevitable. Eventually, the morning came and at 5.55 am, the teacher came knocking on the door. Ironically, this was exactly the same time as my alarm went off! This meant we had to attempt to wake up and get up despite the chilling temperature of the room. (It felt like the hotel was still yet to discover the modern marvel of central heating!) Dragging ourselves out of bed, we got dressed, gathered our stuff together, and performed 'idiot checks' as our teacher calls them! Making our way down the stairs, (after the lifts refused to comply with our request to descend,) we grabbed a bite to eat. As usual, we spend ages waiting while the teachers panicked about everything: people missing, music missing, keys not handed in, and instruments missing amongst other things. Eventually we got going (even though the teachers' delays could have given us another half hour in bed) and arrived at the ICC at approximately 7.15am for another practice with Gareth Malone!

Chocolate Baaar.

This afternoon, I decided to pop into Matalan before catching the bus home: I had a spare twenty minutes and the shop is right next to the bus stop. It wasn't an idle visit either. I needed to buy the Secret Santa present for the girl I've been given in mentor and I thought I might as well treat myself to something at the same time. I found a nice stripy cardigan (even if it was a bit expensive for Matalan: £18!) and while waiting in line to pay, I saw some Christmassy socks. I thought these would be great for Secret Santa. Some other socks also caught my eye: Chocolate smelling sheep socks (with the caption "Chocolate Baaar") that I just could not resist!

Eventually, I got to the till and asked if I could use my student card. The guy on the till asked "Is it an NUS extra card?" This left me thinking 'It's definitely an NUS card, but what's with the extra bit? Did I have to pay a bit more to get the extra bit? But, hang on; it said Matalan was on the list of discounts in the little booklet thingy!' Thankfully, I finally noticed the 'extra' written under 'NUS' and meekly said yes and handed over the card. "YAY!" I thought: £2 off my little bundle of goodies and then straight to the bus stop with plenty of time spare. Except it wasn't that easy…

Firstly, the guy called over one of the other members of staff before filling in a form using all the details on my card while this lady watched the proceedings from over his shoulder. He then asked me to sign it which was fair enough. But then, on the discovery that I did not own a Matalan store card, he informed me that I can't activate my student discount without it.

By now, I'm worrying about the time. From a glance at my phone, I established that I only had five or so minutes to make sure I was at the bus stop in time. (Unfortunately, I was catching the bus from a stop that is between the stops written down on the timetable so I only had a rough idea of when it was meant to come.) I was then assured that the process would take no more than a minute. At this point, I still hadn't even handed over any money yet so I decided that it would be just as quick to fill this out as make them undo and redo my discount and purchases. Also, this way I would get a 10% discount!

After filling in my name address, age, etc etc, I finally handed over my money and escaped the shop with my stuff. I also managed to catch the bus (which is good because I didn't fancy waiting another hour for the next one!) Nevertheless, I had left the shop with more than I bargained for. As well as the stuff that I bought, I had another discount-style card that I will hardly ever use, the knowledge that my house is very likely to now get two copies of the Matalan catalogue, and strong sense of defeat. All I wanted was a few items of clothing and to abuse my rights as a student! Maybe that £2 off wasn't really worth it after all!

Wonderful/terrible/bad/good/odd weather we’re having today! [Please delete as appropriate]

As my friend pointed out, England is one of the few places you can properly discuss the weather. You find, in other countries, the weather is always predictably hot, predictably cold, or predictably wet. In England, we are genuinely shocked when we have more than a day or two's worth of sun or if we get an amount of snow which is actually enough to make a snowman bigger than a football.

In England, it is not the range, but how we lack extremes in the weather which makes us want to go on to holiday! With rain, we don't always get much at once, but it does always seem to be raining constantly. A drought in England is a great shock and even when one is officially announced, we never take it particularly seriously. We know autumn will most likely make up for where summer lacked.

There is always someone moaning about the weather. In the summer there's a lack of sun for a tan, a lack of water for plants (if you're a gardener like my mum!) Even if there is sun we moan that it's too hot to do anything! Autumn brings rain which evokes grumbling about the impossibility of functioning in trousers soaked up to the knees. Furthermore, umbrellas are no good at this time of the year because it will, undoubtedly, be too windy to use it without breakages or a re-enactment of Mary Poppins. Winter is too cold, or no snow. Instead we tend to just get even more rain! Spring generally brings the same mix of wetness, coldness and windiness but at least there is the warmer summer to look forwards too. And more recently, we've enjoyed the possibility of a freak pile of snow around Easter time. Nevertheless, when summer eventually decides to show itself, the sunny times seem to choose to appear in late May to June time. This is just not fair because it leaves us students sitting in exam halls and classrooms gazing longingly out the window at the sun we can only get an hour of at lunch. Without a doubt, as soon as the final bell for summer rings, clouds will come rolling in, ready to set us off moaning again.

At the moment, we are having an unreasonable amount of rain. We've had so much that Cumbria (whose name I managed to muddle with Columbia...) was flooded and there was even a major bridge washed away. My house even ended up developing a moat which is just not right! Vast amounts of rain should not require me to use a boat to get from my front door to the car. To be honest, I wouldn't mind so much if I had the right sort of house to go with it, but I think I've been short changed: What happened to the turrets, the large rooms, and the handsome princes that normally come with a moat?

Unfortunately, this is the curse of living in a country whose weather system and seasons thrive on a diet of teenage mood swings. Today it was raining one minute then bright sunshine the next! Maybe someday I'll move to a country with a more predictable weather pattern... or maybe I'll just be English: I'll put up with it and just moan!

Really? You think we’re gunna concentrate in Chemistry?

Monday's chemistry lesson was one of the dullest I have ever been in. (OK, slight exaggeration, but you get the idea!) The teacher was mostly just going over stuff we'd done before and when you combine that with her rambling teaching style, it is no wonder that me and my friend found doodling in my notebook so much more interesting!
So I thought I'd share with you the insanity that this double period of chemistry led us to: enjoy...

Well, my dearest...

• Cold potatoes aren't hot.
• Mud isn't clear...
• The sky is blue.
• Sheep baa.
• Blind men don't see very well.
• Timey Whimy detector go 'ding' when there's stuff.
• Bananas are good.
• Bananas are yellow.
• Bananas are yucky yummy.
• Something that is positive isn't negative.
• Pink isn't blue.
• Hannah is not Maryam.
• Maryam is not a sheep.
• Sheep are not bananas.
• Hannah is not a banana.
• A banana is not Maryam.
• Maryam is not yellow.
• Hannah is not Hannah... oh wait... she is.
• Chemistry leads to odd conclusions.
• The dark makes people sleepy.

Word link:
Chocolate
Milk
Cheese
Mice
Rats
Gusteau's Restaurant!
Puppets!
Ventriloquists & Horror movies...
Zombies
Resident Evil (The Nintendo Gnome)
Mario
Mushroome             [here on the page is a cute little drawing :D I may add it in another time!)
Spaghetti Bolognese             [I originally spelt this spaguette Bolagnase... worrying isn't it!]
Forks
Spoons
Twilight        [This link always needs explaining. My friend and I are always joking that if there is the place Forks as in Twilight, there should be a spoons too...]
TAYLOR LAUNTNER!
Sharks
Jaws
Swimming!
Floating
Stars
Moon
Rhinoceros
Judoon Platoon upon the moon!
TARDIS
Big Blue Box
Big fish
Big cook, little cook
Wooden spoons
Cooking
Disasters
Chemistry
Bridge        [This does link... honest! It's our teacher!]
Meccano
Lego Land
Rollercoasters
Vomit
Over eating
Fat     [with a bizarre little drawing of a fat/pregnant cartoon to the right...]
CHOCOLATE!

Dr Who words for each letter... [This was actually completed after the lesson eventually!]
Alons-y Alonso!
Binary
Chameleon Circuit
Dimensionally Transcendental
Exterminate
Fragment links
Gelf
Huon energy
Ianto
Judoon
K-9
Lazarus
Moon
New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York
Other Doctor
Platoon
Queen Elizabeth/ Victoria
Raxacoricofallapatorius  / Rose
Spatial Temporal Hyperlink
TARDIS
Utopia
Vashta Nerada
Wolf (Bad!)
X marks the spot
YANA
Zeus Plugs

Feel free to be worried =)

I now pronounce you husband and wife.

Everyone has an idea of where they'd like to see themselves in the future and you would be hard pushed to find someone who doesn't see love as part of their plan. Relationships and marriage are, more often than not, put forward in films and on TV as the best state to be in and singleness is often just seen as part of the journey to finding a partner. Most songs are either of heartbreak or a declaration of love and every film contains romance, even if it's just a minor sub-plot. Those who have never had a boyfriend or girlfriend are often subject to a response of disbelief and if you've not been kissed by the age of about eighteen, popular media suggests there is something wrong with you.

The thing is: singleness is so undermined. I'm not saying that I don't like the idea of getting married to a nice Christian bloke sometime in the future, but I'm learning to understand that singleness isn't always a bad thing; singleness is not an inferior second option.

Firstly, going out with someone takes up so much of your time! You have to find time to see them and spend time with them along with the ordinary complications of life. I am honestly amazed at the teens who managed to juggle a long time boyfriend/girlfriend, school work, a job, family life, and social life! Sometimes I feel that some teenagers rush into relationships, forgetting the impact that it will have on the other aspects of your life. I'm not saying that people don't get caught up in the moment: I've been there and done that (and will learn from the experience). Nevertheless, we do need to be reminded that real life isn't like the movies. We won't bump into the perfect guy who's both handsome and smart, find love at first sight, and get married into a lifelong and happy marriage.

Secondly, as a Christian, being single gives me more time to focus on God. I don't have a boyfriend to distract me in services (even if he's doing so unintentionally) or cause me to stay up late talking on the phone rather than reading my Bible. I admit there are also advantages: he could encourage me in my bible reading and quiz me on the service after to ensure I was listening, but the two sides cancel each other out.

You think I'm insane: admit it. Who'd want to be single when there's the option of being in a relationship? Honestly, I would love to have a boyfriend to share everything with, but I think we so often need to stop elevating relationships to such a high level. Being single can be good. We need to embrace that and stop pining for that "special" guy or girl to come along.

I can’t love you because you’re not [Carlisle] Cullen...

Last Thursday night, (well, technically Friday morning) a few friends, me, and enough other people to fill three screens, went to see New Moon at my local cinema.

I'm a pretty big fan of the Twilight Saga (as in I've bought all the books, read them a couple or three times, and seen both films as soon as they came out) but I'm not a squealing fan girl with all the merchandise and a cardboard cut-out of Edward (aka. Robert Pattinson). And through this love of Twilight, I have discovered that the series is like Marmite: You either love it or hate it. Most people claim that the author Stephanie Meyor is an awful writer and either love her writing despite that, or give that as their reason to avoid her books like the plague. I read a comment online somewhere saying they thought Twilight reads like a sixteen-year-old's diary. The thing is: that's pretty much what it is. To be honest, I think that's why so many teenage girls love the series so much. It's written exactly how they think and about something almost every girl longs for: love. (After typing this, I also read a blog by John Green and he encapsulates EXACTLY what I'm trying to get at. So I'll link it right... here =])

Furthermore, amongst Twilight fans, you tend to get two groups: team Edward; and team Jacob. That is, the ones who hate New Moon because Edward breaks Bella's heart; and those who just want Bella and Jacob to get together. The thing is, I'm not really either. I guess on a superficial level, the films have made me sway to team Jacob what with Taylor Lautner's unignorable hotness, but I'm generally Switzerland. I'm not like Bella in that I'd want both of them, but I would have neither of them. Or, to be more precise, I only want small bits of each of them. I don't even understand why I love the books half the time! Edward annoys me with his possessiveness and protectiveness and Jacob annoys me for just how long he takes to try to get on with the Cullens. Thing is, I'm more lenient with Jake, he's just a young boy (and he does understand it in the end). Also, I guess I'd be fine with the Edward that emerges at the end of Breaking Dawn after Bella becomes a vampire. But I've decided to start my own new team... Go team Carlisle!

I think Jacob needs to borrow Marigold.

Everyone has particular things they do when they get bored in lessons. Lots of people doodle on their work, some (in the presence of a hole punch) punch holes in paper, others just count ceiling tiles (or some other equivalent!) Usually I can be found doodling over the back pages of my homework diary or drawing up the margin of my notes. However, recently, I decided to name the contents of my pencil case. Every bit of stationary has a name.

This can lead to some odd conversations:

Friend: Hey, Hannah. Can I borrow a pencil?
Me: Sure! Do you want Rachel, Claire or Jacob?
Friend: Urm... Jacob’s fine...
Me: Oh, hang on; I think Jacob needs to borrow Marigold.
Friend: Marigold?
Me: Yeah, sharpener!
Friend: Obviously... *surreptitiously switches places*

Amazingly, this ‘craze’ is spreading. Well, my friends have allowed me to name their stationary with my specially bought Sharpie. (Yes, I specifically bought my Sharpie for the purpose of naming my stationary... if you didn’t think I was mad before, I’m sure you do now!) Many pens, pencils, sharpeners and highlighters in the sixth form now have more ‘original’ names than “blue pen” and “black Biro”.

Four particular pens are called Chris, Charlie, Alex and Liam. I possess Chris and Charlie, my friend has Alex and Liam. These four pens are actually named after the Trock band Chameleon Circuit. My friend and I absolutely love their music and their Youtube Vlogs and she refused to let me own the whole band myself :(. Additionally, we unintentionally used colour to divide them by where they live. Charlie and Alex are our blue Biro’s and those two members live in England. However, the other two members (represented by our black pens) live in Scotland. This was - I assure you - completely and utterly unintentional! Although this did lead to the irony of Scotland being represented by black and then the question of whether there were actually any black people in Scotland by another friend. Sometimes you wonder how we all got into a grammar school!

In the process of naming, one of my pencils obtained the name Mundungus. Not being a Harry Potter fan, I did not realise this was not just a bundle of letters and sounds until someone in my history class pointed out that my pencil was named after a character in the books. Somehow, this pencil has now gained the corresponding surname and I am still none the wiser of quite who Mundungus Fletcher is.

There has also been a long debate over the gender of my stationary. I have four mini highlighters with (limited edition!) faces on them. Naturally, I gave them names: Blue – Luke; Orange – Stu.2 (Stu.1 unfortunately ran out of ink); Yellow - Marvin.2 (similar fate befell Marvin.1); Green – Fred; and Pink – Lucy. However, my friend insisted that Fred and Luke were girls. Apparently, the presence of eyelashes made them girls despite the colours (in my mind) suggesting otherwise. In response, I decided to rename them Fredica and Lukette. Nevertheless, friends in my history class said that they should be boys! Maybe highlighters were never designed to have a gender...



Right, for those of you who are wondering what Trock is:

Trock is short for Timelord Rock. Therefore, they are songs about the TV show Doctor Who. Simples :)

"You have one new message..."

Don’t you just love it when you get an actual, proper email? Not a reminder that so-and-so has put up a new vlog, or that a band has ‘got a new single out now so go and download it’; an actual, electronic letter from a real person you know. What’s even better is when that electronic letter is the only email in your inbox. You don’t have to go through deleting spam mail to find this gem but instead it’s waiting there patiently for you when you open your inbox.


After school today I got home, logged on to the computer and opened my inbox to find a solitary email waiting for me. The fact that there was only one was a shock in itself, but for it to also be from a real person just made my day! A nugget of niceness from a friend rather than an inbox full of Facebook comments from people I don’t know, just because I “like”-ed a particular post or status.


Unfortunately, my bubble of joy has been burst in the past five minutes. Firstly, I received an email from Facebook with a friend’s reply to one of my comments. OK, that’s not too bad. It’s from a real person, even if it is delivered second hand through the medium of Facebook. Nevertheless, this was quickly followed by an email from “Minekey” informing me:

Aziz wants to know if you agree with this:

"The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a man's determination."

87% users agreed to it, 108 comments so far!

Do you Agree / Disagree?

Join the conversation on Minekey.

Fine, one piece of junk: I can handle that. Until less than a minute later:

The new Swedish dance-pop sensation - Agnes‏


At just 21 years old Agnes Carlsson is set to have the music world at her feet. The talented Swede has the voice to match her stunning good looks and following on from her top 3 summer-time smash hit, Release Me, Agnes is all set to cause a further storm in the charts with new single I Need You Now and album, Dance Love Pop.


I Need You Now is sure to be the dance-pop hit of the season, subtle synths and violin strings provide the musical canvas for Agnes’s soaring vocals and heart-felt lyrics.


Agnes may have found fame as the first female winner of the Swedish version of Pop Idol but she has gone on to prove that she’s more than just a pretty face off the reality TV conveyor belt. On Dance Love Pop Agnes has co-wrote several of her songs and has a clear sense of what she wants to achieve with the album; “Artistically the goal is always to evolve on all levels – vocally, the song writing and the on stage show are all important for me.”

If you stopped reading half way through that, I don’t blame you. I’ve never heard of ‘Agnes’ before and being English and not Swedish, I’ve never even heard of the Swedish version of Pop Idol. In fact, to be totally honest, I’ve never even watched the English version!

I get thoroughly fed up with all these emails. Yes I want updates on new stuff out, but surely I never signed up to receive newsletters about Swedish Pop Idol winners? Maybe someday I’ll get round to unsubscribing to all these pointless emails!

The end of an era

As I sit here at the computer, to my left is a pad of Narrow Ruled A4 paper. Initially there were 200 sheets in it, but now I am only down to two. You're now wondering why I'm ranting on about an old, almost empty pad of paper. Well, my friend, this is not just any almost empty pad of paper, this is a Woolworths almost empty pad of paper!

Yes, I still own Woolworths branded stationary. However, I do believe this is my last officially Woolworthian item. The last thing remaining to remind me of a shop that dictated my pick 'n' mix intake for all my life until it decided to go bust. It must have been the only place in my town that sold stuff for under £30 and the only place where you could buy something that wasn't an antique (the expensive, fancy way of selling second-hand stuff really if you ask me). Woolworths had been around forever and now there will be a whole generation that will have grown up without knowing this 'great' store.

As a kid, I would go in with my mum or dad and make it my mission to press as many of the buttons in the toy section as possible. I would feel that my trip was incomplete until I had ensured my parents were sufficiently embarrassed by the number of singing, beeping, barking or meowing toys that I had set off. As I got older, I discovered the pick 'n' mix section and whenever I had some money, I would get pick 'n' mix. One of the big changes in Woolworths was when they changed over from paper bags for the sweets to set price tubs. I remember how I went in with one of my friends and we squashed as many sweets as possible into the tub! There were so many, the lid was almost coming off! I also soon discovered the CD and video section. (Yes, the 'good' old days of VHS!) I often casually browsed the shelves making a mental list of all the music and films I would buy if I had an endless supply. Obvious, still being under the age of ten I didn't have enough money to buy anything, plus I would still prefer to spend the money on pick 'n' mix!

Late Night Shopping in my town is one times when I will miss Woolworths. One year I went in about three times in one evening! That meant I went up to the counter about twice and both times I was served by a guy in a snowman outfit. And that's sort of about where the story ends...

My Woolworths was replaced by The Factory Shop. Yeah, it's cheap. Yeah, it sells similar stuff to Woolworths. But what can really replace Woolworths: the childhood memories, the pick 'n' mix, and the cheesy adverts with a sheep (a.k.a Wooly) and a Dog (a.k.a Worth)...

wizz-bang-fizz-aaaaah!!!

Today's the nearest Saturday to bonfire night, and normally, I go out to see the fireworks display that the local Scout group hold in a nearby field. However, this year, I stayed at home writing an essay. Why are you doing that? I hear you ask. Well... I took history and this essay's deadline is Monday.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate history, I just hate essay writing. I think it's fascinating finding out how different people changed how we see the world, how people used to live before they discovered electricity or flushing loos but putting all that into an ordered essay is a totally different story! Having to decide how much you agree with a statement, and then putting it all into an order that make sense to someone other than yourself. Thing is, I find it really hard to stick to the point that I set out to talk about at the beginning of the paragraph. I'll start talking about one thing and then start talking about something that is linked, but not really what I should be talking about in that paragraph!

Technology doesn't exactly help either. The teachers ask us to type our essays up on the computer so that they're easier to read which is fair enough. It also means that I can get the computer to filter out the majority of my spelling mistakes so that my teachers don't think I'm quite as unable to spell as I am! But doing that means that there are so many things to distract me! YouTube, Blogger, msn, my emails, iPlayer, facebook, you name it, it is bound to be on the list of things distracting me! Not that handwriting would be much better. Ignoring the fact that my essay would end up being more crossings out and spelling mistakes than actual essay, I would get just as distracted. I'd start writing a sentence then find myself doodling a little drawing in the margin!

Admittedly, I've had quite a while to do this essay. Over two weeks to be honest. But I do have a few excuses! Well, one proper excuse. We did have to write up some extra notes before hand. Also, some of that time was half term. Do you really expect me to get on with an essay during half term, my week off of school?! But then again, I'm now here, almost midnight, and I've still got around 600 more words to write.

Anyone want to finish it for me?!

I think we're alone now...

Today I had my first proper afternoon at my new job (although when I say job, I mean doing housework for someone for a bit of money. Hey, I'll do anything for £6 an hour seen as some of my friends only get minimum wage!) At exactly 2.10, the lady I'm helping left the house to start the school run leaving me in an empty house. This left me in a totally empty house; alone.

Totally alone is something I haven't been for a while and I'd forgotten how much I like it! Usually I get no time to myself. When I get home my mum's there and even walking home from the bus stop I've got my sister there too. Walking anywhere alone hardly counts either seen as I'm pretty sure I would get a lot of funny looks if I suddenly starting singing along with my mp3. Even being alone in a room doesn't count if there are others in the house. Being totally alone is a rare, but amazing treat.

I love having time to myself. 'Yourself' is the only person that you're ever truly 'yourself' around. I know you'd get lonely if you never had anyone else to talk to, but a good dose of aloneness (I think) is healthy. It gives you a chance to indulge in things like talking to yourself and singing badly! And don't start telling me that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness! In fact, I think it prevents madness. Thinking things over is always good and doing that aloud prevents those almost inevitable distractions surfacing quite so soon!

Being alone, I find, also makes it easier to get on with jobs and tasks. For some reason, I'm much more efficient doing them when nobody is around! To be honest, it's probably because I know no-one is around to watch me. I can get on with my jobs in my own way without any criticism, voiced or otherwise. It can't be just me who feels that any little mistake I make, the task giver will pounce upon me and tell me exactly how they would do it and that I should do it exactly like that too. I'm generally not a particularly paranoid or self-conscious person but, for some reason, completing a list of tasks causes me to think in this totally illogical manner! Be it a teacher, a friend, my mum or my sister, I would much rather be able to get on with tasks without them watching.

Now that I've been reminded of how great being alone for a couple of hours can be I'm looking forward to next time it happens: Crank up my music to full volume, sing along to my favourite (but relatively unknown) YouTube artists, and gradually tick off the jobs waiting patiently on my list.

I'm a nerdy teen! What else do you expect?

Multitasking is the ability to simultaneously do more than one task at the same time. Well, technically, multitasking involves quickly switching from one task to the other but the outcome is pretty much the same!

I'm always doing about five things at once and the common question I'm asked my parents is "How can you watch telly while you're doing homework?" The answer? Easy. It's a talent that all nerdy teenagers possess. The complex ability to be able to write up a blog, watch Doctor Who, surf Facebook, talk on msn and do homework, is obviously a gift that pre-technology philistines do not have. Some say that I complete them all a little slower than I would if I focused on one at a time but surely the total time is the same? 1+1+3+1+4+1+2+2+1+3+4+2 equals exactly the same as 10+7+8.

What I don't understand is how parents manage to do numerous tasks at the same time yet don't understand my 'ability' to do other things at the same time as homework. My mum manages to cook tea, moan at me and my sister to do homework, talk on the phone and talk to herself all at the same time. How is that any different to what I'm doing?

I'm a nerdy teenager and I cannot function if I go more than a day or two without YouTube, Facebook, or some other internet based nerdiness. Furthermore, as a sixth former, I have quite a bit of work to do. So what is my solution? Multitasking. You could say I've adapted to my environment, but one thing's clear: I will never just do my homework alone!

Living in a Box

Being in year 12, we now get 'luxuries' including a common room. However, our common room is basically a box. OK, so its large...ish... but that's all it is: a large-ish mobile.
This morning, my friends and I were in the common and we realized we were trapped by the rain. Yes rain. We were subject to the rain tipping down outside meaning we couldn't leave the common room without getting soaked to the skin.
To be honest, I wouldn't mind it so much if we had something in the common room. If we had a drinks machine, a fridge, a microwave, or even a humble cold tap, I may be less inclined to grumble. Nevertheless, each time I crave a piece of food, a drink, or even a piece of paper (not that a microwave would solve that problem...) I must brave the elements and cross the short distance between the common room door and the school. OK, so we have a football table, a ping pong table, and a lot of chairs, but I can't eat those!

As a 'hard working' teen, I need my food readily accessible, and the common room is the only place we're allowed to eat during our free periods. "What about the canteen?" I hear you cry. Well my dear, as a teen, comfort is also a necessity and the canteen lacks comfy chairs. Anyway, the canteen only serves food at lunch and break: the times where it is overcrowded with pushy younger years. (And don't get me started on the prices!) All other rooms are also a no-go. Pretty much all the rooms in the school are either offices or have lessons in them. As for the library, just like a lot of libraries, the "DO NOT EAT OR DRINK IN HERE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES" rule sort of over-rules the comfort of the chairs. Plus the "NO TALKING" puts a bit of a dampener on all fun except naughts and crosses.

Therefore, my friend, I feel my only option is to starve. Or maybe using my initiative as our head of sixth form suggested wouldn't be such a bad idea...

Dear Mr Headmaster...
I WANT FOOD IN THE COMMON ROOM! please...
Your hungry student,

Hannah =)

I'm Sorry, Do I know you?

1st day back from school after half term. For most this means getting back into routines, getting up early after a week of lay-ins, and homework due in that was meant to be completed over the holiday. For me, it means this, but it also means the termly rush at the bus for our new bus passes. The younger years push and shove, wanting to get a 'good' seat, while the older years wait patiently(ish), knowing that if someone sits in their seat, they can always scare them into moving! Usually, I just step onto the bus, say my name, take my bus pass from the driver's hand, say 'thank you', and walk on to my seat. This time was different. Before I could escape to the confines of my seat, the bus driver said six words: "Oh, I should have known that."

Should have known what?! Are you suggesting that you should have known my name? I'm sorry, but I certainly didn't feel like he 'should have known' my name. Yes, I've got the same bus since year 7, making this about the 30th time I've collected my bus pass, but we don't have the same bus driver each day. Some days we have 'the bald one', sometimes 'the grumpy one', and sometimes this one that we had today. And, unless he has amazing eyesight, I'm pretty sure he doesn't read my name every time I flash it at him as I get on.
Furthermore, how often do I talk to him? I think the longest conversation we had was:

"Ah, I see you're late again!"
"Yeah, mornin'!"
"You gunna be earlier tomorrow?"
"Erm, I guess!"

And that certainly didn't include my name! Surely that just labels me as 'the one who's always late'.

OK, so I know his name: Bruce. But that's only 'cos my friend talks to him when the bus stops and waits in town for the other buses. Apparently, he knows her name, which, I guess, is fair enough. But I can't be interesting enough for me, or my name, to come up in conversation. Even concerning my lateness, I'm pretty sure my friend wouldn't have mentioned more than my first name.
So where did his idea come from? The idea that he should know my name? My full name mind you. Not just 'Hannah', but also my surname, the thing that distinguishes me from the ten-zillion other Hannah's that are in the world and I'm pretty sure there's at least one, maybe even two more, that get on my bus. Seriously? What has come to the world?!

My Eureka Moments

I love my baths. Especially when you get them just the right temperature, (not too warm, not too cold,) and when you have just the right amount of water. But why do you always come up with the best ideas in the most inappropriate places?!
One story goes that Archimedes stepped into a bath and realized that the water level rose meaning he could precisely calculate the volume of an irregular object from the water displaced. Apparently, he shouted "Eureka!" and was so keen to share his discovery that he leapt out of his bathtub and ran through the streets of Syracuse naked.

Just like Archimedes, I'm always coming up with my best ideas (well, I think they're my best ideas...) when I'm having a nice soak in the tub. However, unlike Archimedes, I'm not the biggest fan of running the streets naked, or even getting back out of the bath for that matter! So what do I do with these 'brilliant' ideas? Paper is no good because it will just go all soggy when I go to grab it with my wet hands and the pen would probably just turn the water a funny shade of blue anyway! A laptop or mobile is no good either; knowing my butter fingers, I'd drop them in the water (and I'm not planning to test what happens when electricity and water mix!)

Although, I guess there could be one solution...  Bath Crayons!!!

Hawkins Bazaar sells:
"Pack of six 9cm crayons which can safely be used to scribble on baths, tiles etc. Produce works of art, write messages or play games! The crayon slides into its plastic case for clean storage. They easily wash off all surfaces. Clean creative fun!"
I haven't actually bought any, but surely this is the only solution to my Eureka moments. How else can I remember my 'fantastic' idea long enough so that I can write them down when I'm clean and dry?! Maybe this will have to be my next purchase... maybe...

Homework and Hermits

HOMEWORK!!! Who thought that giving homework would be a good idea? I'm sure its not just us students who hate doing it, but think about those teachers, who thought that they'd enjoy reading and marking the homework that us students rushed at the last minute so that we could get on with watching our favourite TV show or hanging out with our friends?
As the sort of student who can't be bothered with the fuss teachers make when you don't hand work in, I do my homework. But don't be fooled! That doesn't make me a teacher's pet, or some sort of nerd who actually enjoys sitting at a desk doing extra work. Living in England, my half term has just started. At the age of 11 my sister is all "yay! A week of no school! A week of no work!" However, at 16 and doing A-levels, half-term is the holiday of doom. It is the week where you have to catching up with all the work that has been piling up since the beginning of the new term, just in time to go back to school the following Monday for the whole system of work to start up again. If we had two weeks off then maybe we would have one week to catch up, and one week to do what we like. But NO! Apparently we are only allowed the occasional free time, just enough to say 'hi' to our friends over MSN, moan about how you have soooo much work left, then say 'bi' because your parents have just come to check on you and are saying "why aren't you getting on with your homework?! Don't you want to get such-and-such a grade?" The answer is, yes, obviously, but sometimes you feel like becoming a hermit.
Hermits have the best of lives. No people to worry about, no teachers to tell them when they should or shouldn't be doing work or having free time, and no reason to get up early on a Saturday morning. Ok, so they also have no friends, but what about hermits reunited? Plus, I'm guessing you could be a internet-savvy hermit who talks to people via chat rooms etc. Ok, maybe being a hermit isn't the best of ideas for someone like me who can't function without friends to talk to on a regular basis, but surely there has to be a mid-way meeting point?

So where is that half-way between homework and hermit?

Hello, how are you? I'm fine ta, How are you?

Hi! I'm Hannah, 16, live in Kent, England, a Christian, like sheep, blah blah blah....blah...


I thought I'd start a blog coz I'm always ranting about things to my friends but quite often they seem to switch off after I go "Oh! You'll never guess what!" Soooo.... I thought, just maybe, if I started a blog, the people who would answer "Oh! Hannah, I don't know, TELL ME!!" would listen and mean that my ramblings aren't for nothing =D


I apologize now for one thing: my spelling. I expect you've already picked out about ten zillion spelling mistakes in my blog. I'm sorry. My English teacher despised of my spelling so much she threatened to disembowel, dissect, disembody, and all other disastrous things beginning with d-me. But hopefully, as wonderful as you are, you will be able to overlook my appalling spelling, and just read my blogs so I can punctuate your day with a smile =)