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!