The Jane Genie

2012-01-28T04:37:00.000-08:00

As a joint Christmas and a 'Congratulations You've Made It Through A Really Shitty Start To University Life' present for myself, I bought a pair of second hand Bose QuietComfort 15 headphones. As someone who likes the quiet and gets irritated easily by stupid people, wearing these headphones on my weekly big shop at ASDA has been a revelation. I literally can't hear anything except my own music.

So I was standing in the queue at the checkout this morning, staring vacantly at the six tins of peach slices and block of Cathedral City cheese belonging to the woman in front, listening to the haunting sounds of John Williams' War Horse score. I look up, and the checkout man and Peach Slice Lady are both staring at me. I take off my headphones.

Me: Oh God, sorry. Did you say something? I can't hear anything with these headphones on.

Peach Slice Lady: We were just wondering what you were thinking about my shopping.

Me: What do you mean?

Peach Slice Lady: You've been staring at it since you joined the queue. I'm a little concerned about what you think I'm going home to cook.

I wonder briefly about whether this woman could take a joke or not. She seemed nice enough, and she wasn't angry or anything. I risk it.

Me: Erm...a cheese trifle?

She looked at me like I'd suggested covering each other in jelly and having a cheeky wrestle. She packs quickly, pays and leaves. I pack quick quickly, pay, but just before I leave the checkout man winks at me and says:

Checkout Man: Nice to know there's someone with a bit of wit up at that university.

I put my headphones back on and leave with a smile on my face.

2012-01-13T09:17:00.000-08:00

Today is the day of my 20th birthday! I have been inundated with texts, messages, cards and lots of lovely things and I have to say I feel very spoilt. Happy happy happy. So here is a picture of my transformation, and also my wall of stuff which is now predominantly birthday cards!

Thanks so much to everyone, and congratulations to Neil who passed his driving test today!

Lots and lots to be happy about. Awesome.

2011-12-30T02:36:00.000-08:00

YEAR END LIST 2011

TOP 10 ALBUMS

1. Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows - Hans Zimmer

2. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - Harry Gregson-Williams

3. Doctor Who: Series 5 - Murray Gold

4. Iron Man II - John Debney

5. What Did You Expect From The Vaccines? - The Vaccines

6. Velociraptor! - Kasabian

7. Iron Man II - AC/DC

8. X-Men: First Class - Henry Jackman

9. Robin Hood - Marc Streitenfeld

10. Still Got Legs - Chameleon Circuit

HONOURABLE MENTIONS (SONGS): Otis (ft. Otis Redding) - Jay Z and Kanye West, I Got A Thing - Hanni El Khatib, Louder (ft. Sian Evans) - DJ Fresh, The Road Goes On - A.R. Rahman, Christopher Nightingale and Varttinna, Kristofferson's Theme - Alexandre Desplat

TOP 5 FILMS

1. Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows - Director: Guy Ritchie, Starring: Robert Downey Jr, Jude Law

2. Bridesmaids - Director: Paul Feig, Starring Kristen Wiig, Rose Byrne

3. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 - Director: David Yates, Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Ralph Fiennes

4. X-Men: First Class - Director: Michael Vaughn, Starring: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender

5. Fantastic Mr Fox - Director: Wes Anderson, Starring: George Clooney, Meryl Streep

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Thor - Director: Kenneth Branagh, Starring Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Paul - Director: Greg Mottola, Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Whip It - Director: Drew Barrymore, Starring: Ellen Page, Drew Barrymore

TOP 5 TV SHOWS

1. Doctor Who - Starring: Matt Smith, Karen Gillan

2. Bones - Starring: Emily Deschanel, David Boreanaz

3. Merlin - Starring: Colin Morgan, Bradley James

4. Psychoville: Series 2 - Starring: Reece Shearsmith, Steve Pemberton

5. True Blood - Starring: Anna Paquin, Alexander Skarsgard

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Frozen Planet - Starring: David Attenborough, Misfits - Starring: Iwan Rheon, Lauren Socha, Life's Too Short - Starring: Warwick Davis, Ricky Gervais, Rev - Starring: Tom Hollander, Olivia Colman

MAN OF THE YEAR

[On his two cats] "Eighteen months ago, I'm saying: 'I don't want any rescue pets within one hundred yards of either of my residences. I'm sorry. I don't want some, like, tripod, abused animal.' I was adamantly opposed to the whole idea. And now I couldn't imagine living without them. I've become one of those people where the Missus is like: 'They don't want to see iPhone pictures of our kittens right now. Stop it.'"

- Robert Downey, Jr

WOMAN OF THE YEAR

"I went through my high school year book recently. I was surprised people wrote I had a good sense of humour. I don't remember being funny."

- Kristen Wiig

PERSONAL HIGHLIGHTS

1. Getting to university. I don’t mean moving away or grades or anything, I mean finally getting to university and realizing that things happen when you make them happen. I’m genuinely looking forward to getting back down to Falmouth and getting back into all the things I’ve started.

2. Getting my maths GCSE. I finally have a C, and though it might not be the most impressive thing in the world I’m certainly proud of myself for getting it together and taking the exam. The pressure is off and it feels great.

3. Getting back into football. I am secretary of the women’s football team at Tremough and have made it clear that I take the game seriously. I can’t wait to start playing matches and scoring goals.

4. Mallorca with the family. A really good two weeks of sun and relaxation. For the most part!

5. Being friendly and reliable at work. Though it might not be the most glamorous job in the world, it did make me feel good to know that people would come into the shop just to see me. A regular came to my leaving drinks before university, what more do I need to say?

6. Chillin’ with my buddies. Particularly poignant in the year we were scattered across the country. Whether it involves parties, cheesy chips, Doctor Who or birthdays, I love you dudes, I really do.

Targets For 2012:

1. Find a nice, three-bedroom house in Penryn with Natalie and Bryony.

2. Score a hat trick during a football match.

3. Pass my shorthand exam.

4. Finish the year with a 2.1 (or above would be nice. I’m being practical).

5. Go/travel somewhere.

6. Get work experience in journalism.

2011-12-26T04:46:00.000-08:00

First of all, apologies for not blogging since the 1st of this month. I had planned to do a couple of entries over the course of the last few weeks but being at home and having my own bed and the Xbox and food and sofas and general Christmas shenanigans meant that I haven't sat down and put any thought or effort into writing.

Christmas is over and done with for another year. I had a really good one, did you? I got just about everything I wanted and then some. Highlights include Bridesmaids on DVD, a fantastic furry hat with paw extensions and ears, a pen knife, a book all about fonts and a brand new Carlisle shirt that I can't wait to wear next term at training. And under my kit for good luck, of course.

My only disappointment came in the form of Doctor Who, and I can't tell you how rubbish I feel saying that. I thought it was a bit flat and the story was just rushed. I don't know. Maybe I need to watch it again. I didn't find it particularly funny (unlike dad, who laughed hysterically through the whole Lily/Cyril's room bit) or sad either, to be honest. Move on Jane, move on. This is blasphemy. I was genuinely grinning at the end though, with Amy and the Doctor. That was nice.

Anyway my next blog will be focusing on the last year and what happened and what I hope to happen next year. That should do it.

What did you get?

2011-12-01T03:23:00.000-08:00

It's December 1st, and this is an obligatory 'it's December 1st' post.

When I bought this advent calendar in ASDA, the conversation with the checkout man went like this:

Man: "Is that Peppa Pig calendar yours?"

Me: "If I say yes, will you judge me?"

Man: "No. I love Peppa Pig. I'd have got the exact same one."

Anyway I opened the first window whilst listening to a certain Mariah Carey Christmas classic on the radio so I'm feeling pretty festive this morning. I also just downloaded the Love Actually soundtrack.

I'M COMING HOME IN 10 DAYS!

2011-11-22T07:42:00.000-08:00

I have a lovely little group of friends here at UCF. As many a wise owl told me before I moved down here, I would find people who liked the same things I do. These people share the same opinions as me and enjoy the little things, like drawing zombies in our notebooks and playing endless games of pool during our free time. I guess (as people in general) we're all pretty desperate at the beginning of university to make friends so we end up becoming this exaggerated version of ourselves. Like some sort of weird animal attraction display. I admit I blew my crescent like any good Parasaurolophus in the first week and yes, I did speak to people but it was after the first week that I finally settled down and talking to new people actually became just the normal thing to do rather than some sort of omgIhavetomakefriendstalktomehahahahahaaa.

So there we were, my group of sandwich-eating ornithopods, at half ten in the morning some time last week. Probably Thursday. We were in the Stannary (student chill-out area/canteen) when a load of guys rolled in and ordered a round of beer at the bar. At half ten in the morning. Was I wrong in thinking 'blimey, they're a bit early'? I guess if you want to drink from half ten in the morning then you can, who am I to judge. I caught the eye of a Parasaurolophus on my right and went back to my roll. Half ten on Thursday morning might suit you as a pefect time for drinking, especially if you're a heavy set Ankylosaurus like these blokes were.

And then today I was sitting back on a stool in the Stannary before I was joined by two students I know, both in their second year. It wan't half eleven. No exaggeration, every two minutes I was asked to go and get a drink, to buy a drink, to go and get a drink, to have a drink, to go and buy a drink. And I got so sick of it. I like these people, but I almost just walked away. What is so unfathomable about not wanting to drink alcohol in the morning? It was like I was trying to protect my eggs of moral highground from a pain in the arse Dilophosaurus (the one that kills Wayne Knight in the original Jurassic Park).

This is why I'm glad I'm a Parasaurolophus. Because I have a herd and we like each other and all agree on the same things. And there's no real pressure to do stuff we don't want to do. My crescent is finally a nice, healthy colour.

And that's not a euphemism.

2011-11-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

So here I am, back in Falmouth after a week at home. I have to say that I was surprised at how much I missed being near London. It was a weird feeling getting off the train at Paddington last Saturday. Dad wasn't sharing my excitement at the new tubes on the metropolitan line or the lovely interior of St Pancras. It certainly cemented in me the fact that no matter how much I might like the countryside and being near the sea, I feel like I belong either in or close to London in the future.

I had a pretty good week. It was busy and despite being called a 'reading week' I think I read more of Caitlin Moran than any newspaper over the course of the seven days. I walked round Verulamium in the drizzle and went on the swings and played CoD: Modern Warfare 3 with Maddy and had a posh lunch in Tunbridge Wells. I also got my hair cut because it had got to a stupid length and now it's nice and manageable again.

I have four weeks until I come home for Christmas. That's no time at all and yet I have so much to do. I'm currently restless about not being able to crack on and get going.

The train ride between Paddington and Truro (four and a half hours) was interesting. It was quiet until we reached Plymouth and then all hell broke loose. I specifically reserved a seat in the quiet carriage but these two oldish ladies got on and started talking really loudly between themselves. Another lady got on and took the seat opposite me and within two minutes had put her iPod in. She said I was allowed to poke her if she was playing it too loud, because I was trying to do shorthand, her excuse being "I need to drown out those two". Then everyone and the dog (literally) got on, including two eleven year old girls who proceeded to eat a pomegranate between them (I watched them, bemused, in the window reflection) and unpack what seemed to be all of Plymouth's Toys R Us. They were sitting across from the loud ladies, who were now quiet and watching disapprovingly as the two little girls covered the table in plastic boxes and toys. Then one of them got over-silly and spat her Oasis all over the table into the lap of one of the older ladies. I would have laughed if I hadn't found it so disgusting. She then laughed so hysterically she fell out of her seat and onto the dog. Her friend sat and ate salted cashews loudly the whole time.

I was glad to finally get off.

I get back into the flat and within five minutes of my arrival the walls are trembling with the bass music from the room across from me. I thought I was going to explode but didn't have the time as I was on all fours mopping up the pond on the floor of my flooded bathroom.

Good to be back, eh?

2011-11-01T07:12:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to me. This is my 400th blog entry!

I could say that everything is fine and dandy (and for the most part, it is) but I'm looking forward to coming home and getting my head out of this place for a little while more than you could think. I know I have to come back at the end of my week off, but I'm hoping I'll come back feeling better about everything having been given the chance to step back and write down everything my weeks are full of, and think about everything I've done so far.

Football was utterly brilliant last Thursday. We played outside, in my perfect conditions. The ground was wet and soft which meant control was key, and I happily put away at least six goals before netting the 'last-goal-wins' winner, too. Kirsty slide tackled me, leaving me to walk home with one leg compeletely brown from the mud but I didn't care.

I slept at Bryony's house last night. She lives in a tiny Cornish village called St Newlyn East, and I thought it was gorgeous. I've been re-reading The Hound Of The Baskervilles for about the hundredth time and it was very much like what I imagine Grimpen to be like. Anyway we stayed up late and watched Sherlock Holmes (of course) and discussed the more pressing matters in life, such as whether we'd still date a guy if he laid eggs like a chicken.

Madre has informed me that Padre was 'quite taken' with my idea of building a Hobbit-hole style door up at Grandma's house. They've got the planning permission to do the conversion at Easter and seeing as her house is called Bank End (only a wee difference from Bag End) it makes perfect sense to me. Can you imagine? With my plans for my own birthday treat (too early to tell) it would just be amazing. I'm not getting my hopes up, just sayin' is all.

Happy 400th Post Day!

2011-10-24T12:51:00.000-07:00

Today, in shorthand, our tutor Sue decided that the next word she was going to teach us was TARDIS. So she wrote it out in shorthand on the board, and asked "okay?"

It was not okay for me. I didn't know what to do.

The shorthand only uses the letters T,R,D and S. There is no capitalisation. As TARDIS is already an abbreviation I was tempted to ask if you do still need to use all the respective symbols? She'd already moved on to the word ROBOT by this point so I ended up rather regretfully doing the shorthand as she'd done it, but making sure to put the capitalisation mark down too.

There are going to be serious problems if I ever have to interview someone from Doctor Who.

She also taught us the symbol to write BATMAN, and invited putting the capitals mark down because it's "his name". But it's not his name. And I said so, sitting between Paul and Mike who both agreed with me that it's his alias.

I was going to write out BRUCE WAYNE but she'd already moved onto TORTURE. How apt.

2011-10-11T02:32:00.000-07:00

I feel like I should be doing something productive with my day. Currently it's 10:36am and I've been up for an hour because it's also my 'day off'. I have breakfasted (2 mini chocolate brioche, a roll with marmalade and a glass of milk) and now think it's important to note that I am eating properly again, or at least trying to. Chicken curry (out of a box) on Sunday night, and lasagne (out of a box) last night. I'll probably have to do a run to ASDA today because I'm sick of couscous and I have almost an entire tub to eat having pre-prepared far too much. I feel a bit perkier anyway.

As far as today goes, I think I'll watch Boromir die with the cast audio commentary after writing this while I digest breakfast. I'll then finish my shorthand crossword, pop down to ASDA and maybe go to the library. I don't know why I'm telling you all this.

For one of our projects this semester we have to set up a blog. Seeing as I already have this one my lecturer said there's no point setting up another one, but I'm not sure if by 'blog' he means a specific one, with a focus (e.g. film, reviews) or this, which is basically me rambling about rubbish and deciding how to fill my days. Is it a good idea to let my lecturer know that I spend equal parts of my day doing shorthand and then watching Aragorn lop an Uruk's head off? I don't think so.

Football training has moved to 5:30-6:30 on a Thursday for the next 5 weeks which is absolutely pants because my last seminar finishes at 5:30 and I have to get the bus to the sports centre in Falmouth itself. So I guess I won't be going until after the 5 weeks when I've been told they'll look to changing it to a Sunday. I'm not exactly pleased, as I've now told the guy taking the seminars that I'll be attending them all from now on after missing last weeks and I can't imagine he'll be best pleased if I vanish half an hour before the end to go and play football.

Urgh. Anyway. Back to Middle Earth I go.

2011-10-04T04:31:00.000-07:00

Time for an update, I think.

At some point in the last week I stopped thinking about not being in my own bed. I guess this is my home now, and certainly my room has become my haven. I'm getting used to where everything is, in fact people ask me for directions so I must look as though I know what I'm doing. I think this is probably due in part to finally getting the ball rolling. My weeks are pretty busy and this week especially is full of excitement.

I went to the Freshers Fayre on Sunday and signed up for the student paper and radio, as well as women's football and judo. I spent the best part of this morning wandering around Falmouth searching for shin pads but apparently they don't wear them down here. Hopefully there won't be too much slide tackling going on during my first training session on Thursday. Signing up for football also meant I needed to buy new boots and astros, and they have been ordered and are (the last I heard) with the courier awaiting delivery. I did order them on Sunday night and it's now Tuesday so I'm starting to get twitchy. It's judo tomorrow night, so Ma and Pa have sent my green belt down in the post and I'm actually quite looking forward to it.

EDIT: Boots and astros arrived and they are b-e-a-utiful.

I've been learning the shorthand alphabet. It's actually quite simple once you get the hang of it but you have to get it absolutely right or you'll get your H's and P's mixed up and that's never a good thing.

I've got a bit of a cold so have been drinking water and eating soup. Yesterday I made the startling discovery in Asda that you can get spaghetti bolognese out of a tin. That's dinner sorted for tonight! Along with the Great British Bake Off final of course.

You know you want something so badly when adverts about it make you cry. Take this one for example:

Maybe I'm just emotional because I'm under the weather. Yeah, that's probably it. Pull yourself together girl.

2011-09-29T11:03:00.000-07:00

Things I have learnt in the past week:

- Seagulls are enormous. One came pelting straight at me earlier and I thought 'this is how I'll die'. A sea bird through the face and a bottle of Ribena in one hand.

- Microwaves are a Godsend. I honestly don't know how I've gone for this long without one. It takes me two minutes to make dinner. Dinner! I'm used to waiting twenty minutes and that's the quickest I can make anything!

- The world is very small. Today I got on the bus with someone who used to teach a gymnastics club at STAGS and has a friend who goes to Nicholas Breakspear.

- Falmouth is extraordinarily pretty. There is bunting! And lots of little boats and water taxis and clotted cream ice cream. Actually, on that note, yesterday I walked past a kiosk selling ice cream cones with jelly babies stuck all over them and they were MASSIVE. I dragged myself away as we were supposed to be working on a project.

- There is being lonely, and then there is being lonely but surrounded by people. Believe me, the latter is worse. This is really tough, much tougher than I expected. I miss having friends. I keep walking past things and thinking 'Laura would love that shop' or 'Caitlin would suit that jumper'.

- Freedom is actually becoming a nice thing. Once I've learnt to relax in my surroundings (it's happening slowly) I find I enjoy it a lot more. For example, this evening I sat on a wharf and read Doctor Who Magazine for an hour and half in the sun. I can do what I like and though it's scary I'm getting used to not worrying about what other people think about it. It is my three years of freedom, after all.

- Libraries are wonderful and quiet and this one is open 24/7 as of Monday so I expect I'll be spending a lot of time here.

- I didn't realise I'd missed academic work so much, but I do, and I'm desperate to get started next week on things like writing for the media and shorthand.

- And finally, pasties are fantastic.

2011-09-20T00:21:00.001-07:00

Aragorn was right. There is always hope.

I got in from town on Saturday afternoon and there was an answerphone message waiting for me from Falmouth. I didn't really want to listen to it, if I'm honest, because I was still pissed off about the sharing rooms thing to feel amicable towards them but I listened to it anyway. And they told me some single rooms had become available. Did I want one?

So I screamed a little bit and sent an email to them pretty much straight after.

Then yesterday they emailed me saying thanks for getting in touch and my new offer should be in my inbox by tomorrow (Tuesday). Just before mum got home, maybe half five-ish, my offer appeared, dad and I sat through all the confirmation stuff again and I have now officially got a single room!

There is hopefully a lovely double bed and en suite bathroom waiting for me when I arrive on Thursday. You can't understand how relieved I am. I can take my DW calendar and not feel awkward about it!

2011-09-12T02:56:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged about anything 'me' related for a little while so I figured I'd do a little catch up. I have plenty to rage about but I don't feel justified to do so because of situations that are out of my control. Let's just say things have been a little up and down.

To start off, for those who don't know, I passed my maths GCSE retake. So that's more than a load off. I can actually go out into the world safe in the knowledge that I have standard required grades and can get a job I really want. If I'm offered it, of course.

I'll be sharing a room (bunkbed) at Falmouth in a couple of weeks. Don't even get me started. I'm actually getting angry writing this. Despite telling me, and I quote directly from the email -You will receive a formal offer of accommodation between the end of August and early September via an email alert asking you to check your room service account - that's an EMAIL. An EMAIL. So I take my laptop with me to Mallorca to find out that they RANG the house offering me a single but by the time I could get in contact with them (I got the message via a text from our catsitter on Friday night, the accomm. place is closed weekends, I phone on Monday) they tell me all the places are gone and I'm in sharing. So I'll be living here.

It's a positive thing to know that is the only picture on the entire website of a shared room. They are obviously so proud of their accommodation arrangements.

Hmm.

Anyway I got back from 2 weeks in Mallorca on Saturday which was very nice and incredibly hot. In between pretending to be a corpse in the swimming pool and accidentally speaking French in a Spanish supermarket I got a good tan and managed to unwind a little bit. We also managed to construct a sand toilet, much to the amazement of the Germans who we shared the beach with.

Only on a Jardine holiday.

2011-08-25T13:59:00.000-07:00

It happened in a very quickly. In fact, at first I wasn't sure whether it'd happened at all or if my eyes were just playing tricks on me. After all, it was ridiculously dark. Like Drew Baylor's 'last looks', this expression has cemented itself on my brain and planted a thought in my cerebral cortex that I don't think I'll ever shift: I hate Hollister.

For starters, who the hell invites members of the public into their shop by getting topless men to stand outside? I couldn't walk past without have a flyer and a nipple shoved in my face. Anyway, I take the damn flyer and enter the shop and immediately regret it. It's so dark I'm squinting like a backwards mole. The music is awful and loud. It's a shop designed for skinny people so there is no space to move between the french tourists and girls in tiny shorts hanging around waiting to be 'spotted'.

It's like The London Dungeon for hipsters.

Anyway as I wander around, bumping into stacks of £80 cardigans and stepping on the feet of pre-pubescent girls with more makeup on than I've ever owned, I notice the place is populated by pretty people. They just sort of loiter. Like handsome lampposts. The girls flip their hair and the boys flex their rippling muscles but they don't seem to be doing any actual working. We wait around for ages listening to some miserable frontman yowling on about love and his lack of it. I speculate as to how many members of staff have banged each other in the last week, month, year.

Then this tall blonde guy gets asked to go and do some work. My friend wants some flip flops in a larger size so he wanders off and gets a younger girl to run about finding said flip flops without messing up her hair. He comes back and mutters something about it not taking a long time. It takes a long time. Anyway, eventually we're all paid and done so we head to leave and on the way out we pass the blonde guy. As is custom in polite society I give him a smile of thanks and he returns the look with the expression that was the catalyst of my anger.

He just raises his eyebrows. That's it. Maybe a centimetre or so, but enough that he clearly expresses a look of disdain. Maybe second-hand embarrassment. He's thinking 'why is she in here?' I'm just glad I'm leaving. I push past the sea of nipples and into fresh, normal air.

Just so Hollister know for future reference - no, I will never buy anything from your shop and half naked men will not change that. Yes, like Bridget Jones, I will always be a little bit fat. No, I'm not going to change the way I dress because you want me to. I will wear comfy jeans if I'm wandering about London for a whole day. And finally, £80 is far too much to charge for a cardigan that quite frankly my grandma could have knitted.

So thank you for your custom, but no thank you. I think I'll choose to buy my clothes from a shop that doesn't make me feel inadequate. Cheers.

2011-08-16T07:59:00.000-07:00

They say we should do something everyday that scares us. I don't think this is particularly helpful advice. Eventually people would end up pushing the boundaries of their abilities and throw themselves off cliffs and swim with great white sharks and build jetpacks in order to get their kicks. Which, I'm sure, are all very achieveable in the correct place at the right time, but are not particularly practical if you decide to put a wetsuit on when you're supposed to be heading to a business meeting and as a result get your head bitten off by an angry sea creature.

Nevertheless, courage is something I think we all feel we need to have in some form or another. To use another fishy metaphor (I watched Ocean Giants on Sunday night) southern right whales have bollocks that weigh one tonne. That's a lot of balls. Unfortunately I am neither a whale, nor have bollocks and a result my confidence levels, for the most part, are not very high.

Getting a job helped; I can now behave like a normal human being in a shop. Having had experience seeing how rude people are to shop assistants I feel as though I have a good grasp on how to get them on your side and that it's not a completely insane thing to do if you ask for a little more salt on your chips. That being said, asking me to cut a sausage roll open lengthways and fill it with ketchup is disgusting and you should be ashamed. I digress.

My point is that as a person who keeps getting emails from her university saying SEE YOU IN ONE MONTH, I feel distinctly lacking in confidence. I haven't bought anything. I attempted to make a shopping list but the task was mammoth so I watched Bradley Cooper flashing his eyes about in Limitless instead. Seeing Anne was a bit of a breakthrough I suppose, because if she can go all the way to the other side of the world for six months and come back in one piece then moving three hundred miles away (and remaining in the same country) isn't such a daunting thing. It's still a challenge.

I think I have to start being a little bit more selfish. I am very concious of the fact that I spend a lot of my time worrying about other people. I need to stop, and focus on myself. Be my own best friend. Bilbo Baggins admitted to being selfish, and he lived to 111 and a bit. It worked for him. The tricky thing is it's very hard to change a way of thinking that you've relied on for so long. Especially when you don't know how it's going to pan out. Someone close to me made the good point that surely moving away, where no one knows you, and where presumptions you carry from home can finally bugger off, is something to get excited about rather than fear. She was right, of course. Why carry an albatross squawking negativity on my shoulders when I can pick up a nice snowy owl that doesn't really know me yet, but is ready to find out?

I figure that's the point of university.

That and you know, getting a degree to have job you want.

2011-07-22T02:19:00.000-07:00

"Like all of us waiting for the start of the new season [Daniel Craig] was so desperate to see the beautiful game he tuned in to watch the Women's World Cup. And apparently his enthusiasm had nothing to do with the shirt-swapping after 90 minutes."

- Gordon Smart, The Sun, 21/07/11

This from a man who is married to the daughter of Dunfermeline Athletic's director of football. I understand that The Sun is desperately scraping the barrel at the moment, what with their lord and saviour being pied at every chance the public gets, but resorting back to boring old sexism is simply way too predictable. I imagine there were whoops of joy around the office when Rebecca Leighton was arrested. Finally! Something to put on the front page other than pictures of David Beckham holding his baby daughter and people being jumped on by a leopard in India.

Gordon Smart manages to turn a story that could have been positive - Daniel Craig is quoted as saying "It looks great. The standard has gone through the roof. I was watching Japan v Sweden and I thought it was a men's international, it was so fast." - into yet another negative piece on women's football.

His Wikipedia page states that he is still an 'aspiring journalist'. I think we can probably all see why. Grow up, Mr Smart.

2011-07-06T00:46:00.000-07:00

It came to my attention yesterday, just as we were taking our seats in Pizza Express, that Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, was a terrible party host. Granted, in The Fellowship of the Ring he obviously takes great care to invite a nice variety of men, elves and dwarves. But whose silly idea was it to sit the Mirkwood elves and the Durin dwarves next to each other? That's only going to end in catastrophe. And then he sat Aragorn and Boromir apart, probably because he knew Boromir was going to be a total nob, but nevertheless - he and Aragorn could have swopped numbers or something or asked each other what their favourite Gondorian football team was. Not a chance thanks to Elrond's bad planning. I suppose it's a miracle at all that Aragorn was there. I don't think he was invited. He just sort of turned up with three little people asking to see Frodo. It's likely that Elrond never invited Aragorn because he's sick of Arwen pining over him all the time.

"Ada, where is Aragorn?"

"Oh deary me sweetie, it turns out he rejected the invite I sent him. I don't think he wants to see you ever again. Now, lets pack a bag you're going to live out of for the rest of time and get you on that boat to the Undying Lands."

He didn't even provide snacks! Not even a little bowl of M&Ms or cheese puffs! What a cop-out. No wonder Sam was so keen to go back home; he'd realised they weren't getting lunch. It was probably tough for Elrond to have friends over. It stems from a bad sleepover with Isildur when they were younger. Isildur had marshamallows and they were about to toast them when Elrond got all bossy and started bellowing "ISILDUR! CAST IT INTO THE FIRE!" Little did he know he'd be repeating those words later on but in a slightly different set of circumstances.

He wasn't invited back.

Mind you, it could be worse. You could have ended up travelling with Merry and Pippin and the Uruk-hai. I notice Pippin didn't even bother asking about second breakfast when he was with them. As we all, I'm sure, remember, the Uruk's "...ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinkin' days!" Given the choice I think I'd rather eat nothing. Then they kill one of their travelling party and eat him so all in all, it is a bit worse than Rivendell's lack of cheese snacks.

Or Moria, where everyone is dead and the Balrog is wandering about thinking about taking old wizards into his pit. Ooer.

2011-06-28T13:53:00.001-07:00

I understand the point of YouTube, but frankly I'm never going to be one to sit down and make videos and expect people to watch them etc. I like watching Vloggers but on the whole, I'll never be one. Nevertheless, YouTube is very important because where else would you go to watch cats hugging each other or episodes of Recess or interviews with Bradley Cooper in which he speaks fluent French (hoooo my God!!).

Occasionally a video comes along that is a real gamechanger.

This happened to me today. Storming straight into the list of my favourite YouTube videos of all time, behind Maru, Jurassic Park 'Hey', Cinema 2009, and Nike's 'Write The Future' is this masterpiece:

God knows what'll happen if someone makes me watch this after a few drinks. Watching it today I've already been screaming with hysterical laughter. Tim Berners-Lee would be proud of what we've achieved with his creation.

I like the buttery biscuit base. Peace out.

2011-06-21T08:13:00.000-07:00

Ten Things To Look Out For (Spoiler Free As Promised):

1. A Twitter revolution.

2. Oswald freakin' Danes.

3. "Captain Jack Bollocks".

3. Ear muffs.

4. Ramblers.

5. The Severn Bridge meets the CIA.

6. "What if you detatch the head?".

7. Mother/daughter bickering about a diet of lard.

8. An old name is recycled.

9. Someone hurts their arm.

10. A rocket launcher on a Welsh beach.

As a side note, the episode was fantastic. I'm desperate to see episode two but it looks like we'll have to wait until after July 14th, the unconfirmed air date. It had pretty much everything we love about Torchwood (action, dark humour, Captain Jack) plus some new, great characters like Bill Pullman being a crazy, creeper, Lecter-like criminal which is definitley a reason to sit down and check out the show, even if nothing else tempts you. Which, frankly, is unlikely.

2011-06-17T12:36:00.000-07:00

Today I was punched in the eye by Laura's cat. Hence the teeny tiny black eye. Granted it was probably my fault for sticking my face right near hers but still. Ouch. The day did not improve from here, it has to be said. Mother, I'd stop reading now. Please.

Penis

Lol haha willy

Lmao big spunky chode

Hmm motorboarding...

This was the point at which I, in bold, realised that I wasn't actually texting Laura, as I'd assumed, I was actually texting my BOSS. This would probably explain my confusion as to how Laura was texting me back whilst still playing LA Noire. Anyway I texted back with this:

Omg! Those were meant for my friend Laura!!! Now I'm embarrassed! Major apologies! x

And I got this in return:

Lol I just found it very funny! It's cool :) xx

Thank God for a good working relationship. I doubt the editor of The Guardian would find it as funny. Yikes.

This post has done nothing to quash the cat lady rumours. Not that there were any...

2011-06-13T00:36:00.000-07:00

My Life, My Future (minus the American-ness).

2011-06-06T01:27:00.000-07:00

Hi. Let me tell you what is happening right now. I am sitting on my bed, writing this. I have eaten my toast and finished my mug of green tea. It's raining a lot. I am listening to the Arctic Monkey's new album Suck It And See because it came out today and I just bought it. Oh, and I have my first maths re-take this afternoon. So I'm going a little insane but weirdly I'm not as panicky as I was yesterday. This may or may not be a good thing.

Yeah, so I'm off at 12:30ish because I need to pick up a black pen in Morrisons (I am so organised, can you tell?) and then I get to the place which is a church so if I need to pray Jesus is close by. At 1:30 shit gets real and I do maths for an hour and a half before coming home and counting down the hours until Friday when I have my second one.

For those who don't know - I've never really been fantastic at maths. It's not that I don't want to learn it or anything, it's just some stuff I can't understand no matter how hard I try. I've definitely got more confidence now than when I did last time I did these exams and failed so that's nice. I can do an exercise over and over again and then someone will ask me a question and I will still not be able to give them the right answer. Luckily the first questions in these exams tend to be things like TELL THE TIME or WRITE 1,234 IN WORDS. So I don't know why I'm worried. I guess I just don't agree with exams very much but who does?

Also on Thursday I'm supposed to be working 9-3, which was originally 9-3:30 until I told my boss I have to be in London for an important thing which she obviously didn't believe but I have proof if she wants it that badly. I don't particularly want to work on Thursday. My exam starts at 8:30 on Friday morning and I want Thursday to go over stuff and revise. But no, I have to work and then get a train and I won't be home until 6ish by which time I really don't want to get into revision. When I made the point my exam is on Friday morning, my boss said "Well that's fine because you finish at 3". Yeah, and after that? Bahh. Totally the reason we used to have something called 'Study Leave'. Utter pooballs. All this is simply going to mean I'm going to be a panicking mess on Thursday all day and Friday morning is going to induce a meltdown.

Thanks a bunch Plimmons!

2011-05-31T12:19:00.000-07:00

I don't know what life will be like at university but I'm pretty sure it won't consist of shoving my cat's arse into my mum's face and shouting "Smell the fart! Smell the fart!" and then laughing like a crazy witch. Welcome to another normal Tuesday dans le Jardine maison.

Because I lack originality I'm going to do what Caitlin and Laura have done and write my letter to television.

Dear Television,

We don't see each other as much as we used to. I remember watching The Simpsons and Robot Wars and Blue Peter almost religiously. But those days have gone, cast off into the wind along with my bright green primary school jumper and Pokemon cards.

Nowadays I watch you for about two hours a week. And when I say that, I mean that's the time I actually sit down in front of you, in a chair and watch your screen. The two programmes that have currently been given that honour are Doctor Who and Psychoville. Otherwise I guess I just sit upstairs, usually on my bed, watching all the other programmes that I can't watch downstairs. Bones and True Blood, basically. I'm going through a bit of a Bones phase right now, re-watching all of my favourite episodes and seeing as there have been six seasons that's a lot of mangled corpses to get through.

And then when Doctor Who finishes on Saturday until later this year (ahkfdkajskja) I guess it'll only be half an hour for Psychoville that we see each other anymore.

I'm sorry, my friend. But my bed is just comfier.

Love, Genie.

2011-05-24T04:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at work a man and his daughter came in for cheese on toast. The girl must have been two or three years old, and she sat down at one of the tables whilst I made their lunch. They sat for a while and eventually got up, paid and left. Why are you telling me this Jane? This is boring! Indeed it is. But bare with, because it's about to get wild.

I was sweeping the floor, and had made it the rolls area, when I looked up to see a stuffed toy Piglet (as in Winnie the Pooh Piglet) sitting rather folornly, watching me, from one of the tables. I don't know why I suddenly felt a rush of sorrow, perhaps because my mum calls me Piglet (alright, alright stop laughing) and and this Piglet had been left behind. I don't want to be left behind, so I felt a connection with this little toy. Actually, it wasn't very little, it was a good thirty centimetres high and obviously well-loved. It wasn't grubby per say, but it had evidently seen its fair share of the world. Anyway I dropped the broom and cried "Oh no! The little girl has forgotten her Piglet!" to which Mork snorted and insinuated that it wasn't the end of the world or anything.

But I was determined. I spent the next ten or fifteen minutes desperatley trying to remember the company the man worked for and looking it up on my iPod. The broom lay forgotten. It was a sports company...or a health centre...Herts something? Perhaps I could ring them, get his number and tell him I've found his daughter's Piglet. That sound like something a deranged paedo might do but I'm not. I promise. I just care.

Twenty minutes rolled by and I wandered back to the broom to finish sweeping. Almost immediately upon my hand touching the handle, I heard someone say "Erm...excuse me?" from behind me.

It was the man and daughter! The little girl had obviously been crying and the man looked desperate. He asked if they'd left anyone behind and I reunited the little girl with Piglet. I swear the guy almost hugged me. I felt pretty good after that. Like I'd done my bit for the world. The little girl thanked me and they disappeared out the door and on there merry way.

Not three hours after I put up my Four Point Plan, it's already chugging away towards that oh so fabulous goal. Bring it on.

2011-05-22T23:56:00.000-07:00

WHY I SHOULD NEVER GO TO THE BAFTAS

When I arrive outside the building, be it Grosvenor House or wherever, I'd go all silly and giggly because ohmfgkajshdakjd over there is Matt Smith! And look! Martin Freeman! Gillian Anderson! You get the picture. So I'd hurry up the carpet and probably go over on my ankle in my heels, and during my descent to the floor I'd grab onto Trevor McDonald's coat tails in order to remain upright. People would be pointing and staring so I'd run off to the loo to find that my face is bright red. I promptly down two glasses of Moet.

I take my place at my table, and Graham Norton or whoever comes out and I become aware that a cameras are flying around all over the place so I assume a facial expression that's a cross between absolute fear and tipsy embarrassment. Attractive (Anthony Head! Positions!).

Gradually the awards would start to roll out and I'd clap a lot and laugh loudly at jokes that aren't particularly funny. Like when Mr Norton says something like "The Only Way Is Essex? Really?" and people give a small ripple of giggles and from the back of the room you can hear me going BAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA when it all goes quiet. At this point the people on my table are wishing they were over there with Miranda Hart or Steve Coogan.

Then it would come to my category and my stomach would be in knots and I wouldn't be able to focus on the little video thing before so I'd forget to clap at everyone's work and then a camera would come on to me sitting there like a sweaty, stuck-up lemon. Then they announce that I've won and I promptly burst into tears. I make my way up to the stage wobbling about a bit due to my sore ankle and wine consumption. I'd kiss the presenter the wrong way and put the BAFTA the wrong way round on the podium. My speech would go like this:

"Oh blimey. This is very strange. I feel a bit like I'm going to faint, scream, laugh hysterically and wet myself all at the same time. Oh hey Matt Smith! Anyway, this is a very nice award and if there's anything I need it's a big gold face staring at me while I'm on the loo because of course it will go on my bathroom shelf. This is very toilet-oriented and my mother would be ashamed. But it's late, and I'm drunk. Hey Matt! So thanks to everyone I've worked with and that, and thanks to my friends and stuff. Screw you Beaumont drama department you f****ing tits! G'night all!"

There would be an akward pause and then people would clap and I'd sit down and do a head desk as a joke, not noticing that the posh bangers and mash that we'd ordered for dinner had arrived so my face gets covered in potato and dead pig.

In the after party, I attempt to talk to Matt Smith but he sees my eyelashes are full of buttered starch and runs away in fear. I go home clutching a BAFTA but full of shame.

The next day the newspapers run with the headline 'LATERS POTATERS!' and I never appear on television ever again.

The End.

2011-05-20T09:56:00.000-07:00

I could fill this first paragraph with an apology and some sort of vague explanation as to why I haven't blogged for a long time. But I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to leap straight in to productivity with two stories from my week.

Today I went on a tour of the BBC White City, Media Centre and the Television Centre. I don't want to ramble on but I will tell you I saw where they film The One Show, the Top Gear and TARDIS meeting rooms, the area where Doctor Who Adventures (along with hundreds of other BBC magazines) is assembled, the news rooms, studios and 5 Live radio rooms, the massive aircraft hangar-type two-story space where the journalists and researchers go to make sure the BBC news programmes and sites run smoothly (which was both terrifying and fascinating at the same time) and also the Blue Peter garden which was absolutely tiny but so, so cool to stand in.

Not that I was expecting it to be stereotypically 'British' and very stoic and all about the work, but I was pleasantly surprised to find walking about the Media Centre that there was a definite element of fun. It was brightly coloured with, for example, Australian and Vietnamese sections which were random to get 'in the zone' and more unusually-shaped chairs than you could shake a stick at. Everyone seemed very happy to be there and rightly so.

The second story involves, for legal reasons, a bakery chain that for the sake of this story is called 'Plimmons' and a man who is called Mork. Anyway Mork slept in a week or so ago and promised not to do it again after Plimmons head office gave him a verbal warning. He was telling a young, impressionable and highly skilled, reliable, well-trained, responsible and all round catch called (for the sake of this story) Lane, whose name is pronounced with a J, about a festival he was going to with his fiance. Mork told Lane-with-a-J that it was a horror themed festival and he was going as the Devil. He continued to explain that he was planning to wear mechanical wings that extended to eight foot (four foot each side). Lane-with-a-J thought Mork was an idiot, and that surely that would irritate anyone withing an four foot radius of him, but said nothing, after all, she's extremely polite. Mork said his fiance was going as the girl from The Ring, inside a real television set. Lane-with-a-J found it difficult to hide a look of withering scepticism.

Mork didn't come in for work on Tuesday. It turned out the Devil and the scary Asian girl had been at the front of the crowd and the TV had cracked Mork's fiance's ribs. Lane-with-a-J didn't want to question why they didn't get out of the way when they realised there was a problem, but quickly remembered that Mork had been caught and fined for possession of cannabis and cocaine the week before. Lane-with-a-J assumed Mork and his ladyfriend had been too high to notice anything. Apparently Mork had been selling some kind of inhalable gas drug thing (see how hip and 'in' I am?) at the festival and also ended up in a police station.

Mork is getting fired soon from Plimmons.

Lane-with-a-J is hardly surprised.

2011-04-19T12:41:00.000-07:00

I was going to post this blog, in fact I was halfway through writing it, when I heard the news that Lis Sladen had died. Then I went on holiday for a week, so it's a little belated, but the general gist stands out even more now I think. This is a blog post about Doctor Who.

There is no other programme in all of time and space that makes me as excited, emotional and comforted as Doctor Who does. It is the longest-running science fiction programme of all time; a multi-award winning myriad of bizarre monsters, relatable female companions and a mad man with a box. To sum up Doctor Who in one word would almost certainly result in a total event collapse. So I won't. Instead, I'll explain why I love it so much as simply as I can.

The Doctor

A Time Lord, the last Time Lord, running from his past and seemingly having fun doing it. Nine was a moody bloke from the north, fresh from the Time War and still reeling. Ten was a converse-wearing, occasionally Scottish goofball who fell in love with Rose Tyler and bounced about the TARDIS like a child. Eleven is a bow tie wearing master of silly jokes, sillier walks and a lover of fezes. Written like that the Doctor doesn't sound particularly serious, more an inter-planetary clown with uncontrollable mood swings. But somehow, be it due to the writing or the acting or whatever, he's the most lovable, heroic, intelligent and reliable being in all of creation. And he's just like us. It doesn't matter that he's over 900 years old and an alien because just like the rest of us mere mortals he runs because he's not ready to face the big things yet.

Amy: Have you ever run away from something because you were scared, or not ready, or just...just because you could?

The Doctor: Once. A long time ago.

Amy: What happened?

The Doctor: [gesturing to himself] Hello.

He has his fears and fails to hide them. He can go from joke telling friend to man fuelled purely by rage in a matter of seconds. He understands humans better than we understand ourselves and has proved to us time and time again there is a reason for creaky floorboards and our fear of the dark or why we got our most-wanted Christmas presents. He's totally himself all of the time and makes it okay for the rest of us to be that little bit weird sometimes, because he shows us that nothing really bad can come of it. That's why I love the Doctor.

That, and his incredible hair.

The Companion

Amy Pond is hands down my favourite companion ever. I guess because she embodies everything I loved about Rose and Donna, and Martha. She's reckless and courageous and clever and funny and just spot on. Without the companion there'd be no show. Or at least, there'd be Doctor Who but we'd have no idea what was going on. The companion asks what we want to know. They bring out the best and worst in the Doctor. They are arguably the most important character.

The Monsters

Everyone loves monsters. Sometimes, yes, they are pretty crap. Abzorbaloff anyone? But most of the time they are pretty ruthless and pretty terrifying. Watch Blink, or Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead or...well, actually, any Steven Moffat episode if you want to be freaked out. He takes our childhood fears and twists them into the scariest things you could think of. Indeed, the Silence are spine chilling and I'll be surprised if the BBC don't get complaints about how dark series 6 is so far. Especially considering parents complained about the Gelth being too scary. I mean, come on. Skeletal mind-altering men in black who you forget the minute you look away, or ghosts from Dickensian times that take over dead bodies. Take your pick, parents.

Doctor Who is brilliant because for 45 minutes a week you forget everything you were worrying about and finish feeling better about the things you were worrying about beforehand because you've just watched this impossible man and his friends prove that actually, there are far more good things in the universe than bad things. And Doctor Who will definitley add to your pile of good things.

2011-04-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

What a day. Today was the 2011 Johnstone's Paint Trophy Final at Wembley. This is the same thing as the Football League Trophy, so it's kind of a big deal. Anyway we were up nice and early and in the Civil Service Club for sausage baguettes by half 9. The presentations went down pretty well and Lee Maddison's little interview was entertaining. We left for Wembley stadium and arrived in our seats at quarter to 12, for a 1:30 kick off.

I had a bet on either Curran or Marshall scoring in the 53rd minute, and Neil had his money on Peter Murphy scoring in the 64th, but we were both wrong. Sort of.

Murph did score, and his 12th minute goal was all the more impressive due to the fact his son was born on Friday night, and was in the crowd being held by his mum. Adorable. Promising Ben Marshall may be forced to end his season early due to a harsh tackle resulting in rumoured ligament damage, and there were some dodgy referee decisions but it didn't matter - when the final whistle blew the place exploded. They were playing Freedom Fighters by Two Steps From Hell as they went to collect the trophy and medals and there were balloons everywhere and confetti was flying about and it was just awesome.

I'm very, very happy.

2011-04-01T11:22:00.001-07:00

Mum and I were just looking out of her bedroom window, which has a view of the back garden. We were watching Ruddles and Spider romp about in the garden, and spotted Herbie coming over for a visit too (our house has become a cat drop-in centre). Anyway, Mum was expressing her annoyance at the fact no-one bothered to get out of bed last night to find out what the strange banging noise coming from the living room was. I said I was too scared and terrified that someone was in the house, attempting to steal the Xbox. Note that I said Xbox there and not 'priceless family mementos'. Priorities, see? Anyway, my story was true, I was sat bolt upright in bed, straining my ears for a gruff cockney dialect and the sound of a shotgun being cocked.

Turns out someone had shut Ruddles in the front room all night and he'd been trying to claw the door open and wailing to no avail. Yes, I do feel guilty in retrospect. Don't blame it all on me, however, as Neil was apparently too frightened to move as well.

Anyway, so we were looking out of the window at the cats and the garden and the conversation went a bit like this:

Mum: I love the tree when it looks like that.

Me: I spent ages in Morrisons trying to decide which Empire cover I wanted. The blue one or the Fassbender one.

Mum: I love the tree when it's like that.

Me: I decided on the Fassbender one because, well, it's Fassbender. Everyone loves a bit of Fassbender.

Mum: exasperated Jane, that's nature out there!

Me: Fassbender is nature too, he's a human being!

The point I'm eventually trying to make is perhaps my priorities are not as well thought out as perhaps they should be. Who cares? I just priority booked my ticket to Empire's Big Screen event at the O2 arena in August. Movie previews! Secret screenings! Amazing guest appearances! I'm excited already.

2011-03-31T10:54:00.000-07:00

Combining two things in one here.

Cor blimey. I literally flailed when I saw this yesterday. I don't think I've ever been more excited for a new series. Laura and I have many theories as to what will happen vis a vis River, my favourite being that she's actually the Master. That would be amazing.

Anyway, loads of stuff in there to look forward to, especially Toby Whithouse's The God Complex which I really hope will be an incredible episode and be one of those that really sticks out in the mind of Doctor Who fan. It's going to be epic and I can't wait.

Also, my graphics tablet finally arrived, so I thought I'd celebrate by whipping together a rough little doodle of Eleven, because that's how I roll.

Oh, and I've confirmed my place at UC Falmouth, so that's where I'll be living for the next 3 years in case anyone wanted to know.

2011-03-27T10:56:00.000-07:00

I had a very strange dream last night.

I was in a hotel room with Daniel Craig who happened to be completely naked. I said "Daniel, please put some pants on." We got on a plane. Mr Craig had settled for just wrapping a bedsheet around himself like a muscled adonis. Anyway we ended up on some random Mediterranean island, on a white sand beach. There was a desk and a chair up ahead of us and Judi Dench was there but as per usual was playing the part of M. Mr Craig had taken his bedsheet off because of the heat and she rolled her eyes and said "Bond, please put some pants on." Then I looked into the sea and there was a girl on a surfboard who hadn't noticed a large and rather vicious looking shark swimming underneath her. I yelled "SHARK" and she freaked and started to swim away, at which point I noticed she was half girl, half seal. Anyway the shark was chasing her and I was running next to her on land, telling her to keep going. It was at this point I thought it would be a good idea to find a stick or something so that I could pull her along as she wasn't going fast enough and was only getting slower. Even in my dreams I vastly over-estimate my athletic prowess. I paused the shark/seal girl chase, so they wouldn't go anywhere and tried to climb up a big white brick wall, until I found a dog chained to a post. I unchained the animal, took the lead and went back to the seal girl. I thought for a moment whether it would be better if I were to just shoot the shark, but A, it would be absolutely wrong of me to shoot an animal that was only doing what it was created to do, and B, I didn't have a gun. So I clambered back down the wall with the dog lead and was about to re-start the shark/seal girl chase and save the latter creature when Mr Craig appeared again with no clothes on so I shrugged my shoulders and thought 'sod it'.

Then I woke up.

I don't know what this says about my priorities, or whether it's wise for me to watch a James Bond film before bed. Oh well. Just thought you'd be interested.

2011-03-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

I've just ordered a graphics tablet. I've been meaning to do it for ages, but only just got round to actually sitting down and selecting one. Anyway, I'm hoping it might help to snazz this blog up a bit as I feel it's lacking in oomph.

I think I have developed trench foot. Or rather, as close to trench foot as I can get without coming into contact with liquids or dirt or mites. Anyway, my feet are absolutely killing me because I've been working solidly for the last three days (this is not a complaint, it's been really good fun) but somehow I've managed to do more harm to myself in those three days than in the whole year so far.

I've cut myself, burnt my fingers, bruised my arm on the coffee machine, been kicked accidentally, punched accidentally, burnt my tongue, damaged my cuticles, broken many a nail, cut my lip and fallen over rather spectacularly after slipping on the wet floor, thankfully when we'd already closed up.

In other news (news that makes me feel a whole lot better about life) the powers that be have released the full length Captain America: The First Avenger trailer, and with it came three little words that I've already told Joe made me explode a little with excitement: "Now Mr Stark".

1.12. I'll say no more.

2011-03-21T07:23:00.001-07:00

Oh poor, neglected blog. What have I done? You did nothing to deserve this abandoning I have left you to suffer. I do love you, very much. Just sometimes other things get in the way, you know?

Anyway, today I went to town with Laura and spent £13 on Iron Man 2 related things. HMV finally reduced their 2 disc version to £12, so I pounced, and I'm also currently listening to John Debney's FANTASTIC score that I borrowed from the library for a single pound. This is like a total repeat of last year where I essentially spent all my time either watching Iron Man, reading the comics, gushing over RDJ and covering my walls in posters and cut-outs from magazines. I did also buy Blade Runner for £4 because (before I say it, I know, it's shameful) I've never actually seen it the whole way through.

Can I also advise people to go out and get their hands on anything by The Vaccines. Dad sent me an email last week in which he quoted NME's review of them as 'just a bunch of pricks'. I disagree. NME have still decided to include them on their awards tour for 2011, which is a bit hypocritical of them. Their songs are excellent, especially Family Friend and Norgaard, and guitarist Freddie Cowan is the younger brother of Tom Cowan, or Tomethy Furse, from The Horrors - another of my favourite bands.

Norgaard by The Vaccines

Count In Fives by The Horrors

Doctor Who comes back very soon, and Matt Smith has apparently signed on for S7, which is some of the best news I've heard in a while. Though Laura and I have predicted he'll only stay on for three seasons. But that's a long way away and we still have S6 to enjoy first.

I have maths tomorrow (my multiplication grid time is down to approx. 3 mins 30 secs each time now, which is excellent seeing as before it was over 6 minutes). I have work at some point, though I definitley have the early shift again on Saturday, which means I'll be opening the shop for the first time by myself. I'll get there for 6am just to give me a couple of extra minutes in case of problems. This is worrying. I hope my boss comes in because I don't want to spend all day there. I'm not prepared enough for that yet. Plus, I'm not the deputy manager, just a Saturday girl, remember? Remember head office? A Saturday girl. Bumsy.

Adieu.

2011-03-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

I'm back from Whitstable. I had a pretty good time, especially the bowling under the names 'Han Solo' and 'Chewbacca' and the numerous second hand book shops. The food was good, the people of Kent were lovely and it didn't rain all that much. Plus we watched a lot of Midsomer Murders, Come Dine With Me and Coach Trip. Laura's grandma was really lovely and welcoming, and let me eat all the chocolate cereal in the variety pack.

Dad's just told me we're probably going to Mallorca this summer, home of Shagaluf. Except we're not going to Shagaluf, obviously (we're going to Puerto Pollensa, which in turn is not the home of a small yellow grain), as that would be a bit weird. I imagine I may find it to be a wee bit of a culture shock. Me, with my book on the Crusades and Star Wars t-shirt, and the party-goers, with their t-shirts reading 'SHITTER' and their in-flight boozing.

Basically, Whitstable was excellent and I had a fantastic week. Thanks to Laura and her family.

2011-03-10T10:24:00.000-08:00

I'm not neglecting this blog, I'm just busy. Chester gave me an unconditional so that's 5 out of 5. Also my pay has gone up by 10p or something pointless. My feet hurt because I seem to be wearing the same pair of shoes day in, day out. X-Men Origins: Wolverine was one of the most disappointing movies I've ever seen. I don't really know what else I can do with this blog. Bumsy.

2011-03-01T02:55:00.000-08:00

1. Matt Smith

2. Karen Gillan

3. Harrison Ford

4. Simon Pegg

5. Jason Schwartzman

6. Emily Deschanel

7. King Colin Firth

My reasoning behind these decisions are as follows:

I am sat next to Matt Smith because...well...do I need a reason? Next to Matt Smith is Karen Gillan because everyone knows they are pretty much BFFs in real life so they can tell us all about what happens on set and make us laugh until we cry. Next to Karen Gillan in Harrison Ford because if he sat next to me I'd be too scared to say anything. At position 3, I can see him across the table quite clearly and I'll be asking him to pass me the profiteroles and the mini yorkshire puddings every five minutes. Simon Pegg is next to Harrison Ford because I think he would be in awe and that would make me happy. Even though Harrison Ford doesn't seem to like talking about Star Wars, I'm sure he's got stories and if we gave him enough wine he might spill them to the table through the encouragment of Simon Pegg and myself. Jason Schwartzman is next, because he's fast becoming one of my favourite American actors, and he's funny as well, so sitting him next to Simon Pegg seems logical. I need another lady at the table, so Emily Deschanel is there because she's awesome and I can shout "ANGELA" at her and I'll have someone to sneak off to the ladies with if I need to go and don't want to go by myself. Finally, King Colin is next to me because I love a bit of Colin Firth and hopefully with the help of Matt Smith and Karen Gillan, he will phone The Moff and ask when he can be on Doctor Who. I think he'd be a pretty funny guest, and sensible and clever and witty and generally the perfect addition to any table.

DO YOUR OWN!

2011-02-23T13:43:00.000-08:00

This merits its own post. I'm going to be a journalist!

(Booo, Chester)

2011-02-23T04:23:00.000-08:00

Choices in the south of England leave Jane Jardine conflicted. A weekend spent visiting Winchester and University College Falmouth has presented a difficult decision for the ambitious young journalist.

See what I did there? I did it all like what they done do in the news and stuff. Because I'm going to be a professional journalist and such like. Apologies for the lack of blogging in the last week. It's been a bit mad.

Friday was my Winchester interview, and I left feeling really rather nervous about the whole thing. I went to see Dark Star before getting in the car and bent down close to her little furry schnoz, whispering "wish me luck". She did a fishy burp directly into my face. The day did not improve from here. Anticipating a screen test and three written aptitude tests before lunch, then my personal interview in the afternoon, I was a little thrown when they took a group of about seven of us down to the canteen to read a paper each for half an hour, telling us we'd be interviewed and told to analyse a story. I had The Independent, and chose two stories, one of the BAFTAs and one on the Wikileaks fiasco. I got talking to everyone on the table and we had an excellent (to quote drama terminology) 'group dynamic'.

I'm not sure how much I should say about my interview other than that I think I may have come across like I wasn't aware it was a news reporting course, though I think I impressed when I mentioned I'd been on the Winchester Journalism site and had a look around. I came home not feeling particularly confident but comforted by the fact that I'd met someone else in the New Yorker who had an interest in nerdiness and entertainment journalism.

On Saturday, after sitting through the dismal Carlisle/Swindon game, which we won, but was still dismal, Dad and I drove down to Falmouth. We were staying with friends, and in preparation we spent Sunday on a nice walk in the countryside, followed by lunch and a long game of boules at a lovely pub. That was pretty good.

Monday. The interview process at Falmouth consisted of a morning workshop, a guest lecture and then lunch, followed by a campus tour and group interviews in the afternoon. It all went pretty smoothly, and I ate lunch with a girl from Bristol, a guy from St Austell and a girl who lived literally across the road from the campus. Our group interviews were relaxed yet thorough, we were each asked why we wanted to do journalism and what we could bring to the course, before a debate on the troubles facing modern journalism. I think I did pretty well; the guy from St Austell assured me I'd come across really well.

The best thing about Falmouth was that we were made to feel like journalists right from the off. For me personally, I was made to feel like I could go into that course and stay true to the kind of journalism I want to do, which was something I'd been waiting for.

We couldn't stick around (Dad and I) as we had to get home, so with waves and wishes of good luck, we came home. We stopped once to eat authentic Cornish pasties and drink an enormous coffee each, and got home around 9:30ish. Work rang on Tuesday morning asking if I wanted to come in, but I said no. So I'm working 8:30 to 4:30 tomorrow.

No rest for the wicked.

2011-02-15T13:44:00.000-08:00

I miss my friend Anne. She's gone to Australia until August. She's already time-travelled which makes her infinitely cool in my opinion. Me on the other hand? I'm in bed at 9:45, listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack and looking forward to reading some more of my book.

I had a conversation on the way back from work on Saturday that went a little like this:

Me: Last night I watched three Indiana Jones movies and I'm looking forward to getting home so I can catch the end of The Empire Strikes Back. I am going out for drinks though. It's a wonder I have a social life, to be honest.

Temporary Boss For The Day: I'm surprised you're not dead.

Which I thought was a little rude. I love watching nerdy movies. Today I ordered a t-shirt with the words HAN SHOT FIRST written on it and if it wasn't for my interest in (awesome) sci-fi films, Paul would've made no sense to me at all. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. If it makes me happy, what's the harm? It's hurtful to assume because I like to watch Star Wars that must mean my social life is lacking and I must be suicidal.

I make my own fun, thank-you-very-much.

2011-02-12T09:59:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day. Money wasting extortionate rubbish. However, if someone were to get me either of these, I wouldn't mind so much.

Especially if they had nice feet, hair and shoulder blades.

2011-02-09T12:59:00.000-08:00

Lettuce. It is not a particularly inspiring food. It's not even the nicest tasting leaf vegetable. It's just lettuce. It is green and crunchy and chucked absent-mindedly into sandwiches and salads. No one cares where it's from or whether it's had a good day or if it's expecting a child. It doesn't matter because it's just a boring, simple, plain old lettuce.

Unfortunately, some people seem to believe that lettuce is the most vital commodity on the planet right now. More so than the Amazon rainforest, or the icy poles home to polar bears and penguins. To these people, lettuce is something to get stressed about. It is something that grants the ability to hurl abuse. Because some people have to wait an extra five minutes for lettuce, that seems to mean the end of the world and impending doom.

Just a note for the future, if you come into my workplace and throw a childish tantrum about how you've had to wait 'ten minutes' for some lettuce that you must have or God forbid your whole day will be thrown into chaos, and want to rip the crap out of the two people working their asses off to serve a shop full of people, perhaps you should have a plan b. Perhaps you could assemble your own baps next time. Maybe you should grow up and realise the world does not revolve around you.

I'll say no more about it, but I'll leave you with the immortal words of Tim Bisley - "What a prick."

2011-02-05T08:49:00.000-08:00

Right, so since my last post I've grown a pair and got onto the tutors. They have my stuff and as far as I know, I'm in for the exam. I also rang the tutor recommended by Anne and my first session thing is on Tuesday at 2. I am fretting about the fact I haven't done any actual maths for about three years or whatever, and I'm probably a lot worse at it than I was then. Which was pretty average to say the least. Ho hum pig's bum. What happens happens and if I make a tit out of myself then I make a tit out of myself, I can't quit.

Thanks dudes for your words of owl wisdom.

Whethere it's due in part to the sugary (and at the time) goodness of the chocolatey fudge fridge cake I made last night, the late night strong coffee, my disturbed sleeping patterns or my stressing over every little thing, my fears that I have some horrendous illness were exacerbated last night when I literally could not stop trembling like a nervous trifle. I got about three hours sleep. Not good. Also not good was the fact I nearly dropped a large egg custard on my shoe at work whilst putting it in a paper bag because my hands were freaking out. It is never a good idea to Google your symptoms, as I could apparently have anything from fatigue to tachycardia to hypoglycemia. Thankfully, it doesn't look like I have prostate cancer.

2011-02-03T01:58:00.000-08:00

Tom Petty once said: "Sure as night will follow day, most things I worry about never happen anyway". Clearly, Mr Petty never took a gap year. A gap year seems to be a void set aside for people who weren't entirely sure what they wanted to do this time last year but annoyingly realised when school finished in the summer. It is an endless chasm of paranoia, as you no longer have the comfort of 'just asking a teacher'. Are things happening? Should you chase up that letter, that email? What if I look pushy? Am I being irritating?

On Monday I posted a letter to St Albans tutors which contained a copy of my passport, my GCSE result sheet, a form about maths resits and a cheque for £140, as they requested. I have heard nothing back. Do I call them and just find out if they got it?

What's the difference between news awareness and news sense? I have to sit three written aptitude tests as part of the application process for Winchester and I do not know the difference. Winchester is my number one choice and I can't afford to scew up. The other test is in English, which should be fine. I also have to sit a screen test and a personal interview. NO PRESSURE THEN.

On top of that, I have absolutely no drive to go back to the gym. This is unacceptable. I haven't been in nearly three weeks. I need to keep reading but I don't like the book I'm stuck on and I want to finish it so I can read Never Let Me Go and Nerd Do Well. I haven't sorted out my maths tutor because I haven't got a reply from the main place thing.

Mr Petty, you are a liar. The things I worry about DO tend to happen anyway.

(Gratuitous Indiana Jones to bring lightness to this dreary post. Hot damn.)

2011-01-29T04:50:00.000-08:00

GET 'EM OFF was the headline The Sun tactfully decided to run with during this week's sexism in football 'scandal'. Their front page featured a large photograph of Sian Massey at a party wearing a mini skirt and a vest. Granted, they did include a photo of her in lineswoman kit, but it was small and shoved into the corner of the article. The sacking/resignation/whatever you want to call it of Andy Gray and Richard Keys was, probably, the right thing to do.

However, I'm left wondering if the decision to get rid of the pair was the initial decision of Sky, or whether the onslaught of press and media coverage caused the company to throw their hands up and give in. After all, a black mark is a black mark and it's not like they'd keep sexist pigs on in the job even if the press didn't run with it, right? They'd get rid of them straight away for inappropriate behaviour, right? Right?

"Charlotte, could you tuck this down here for me?" "Wendy Toms, she was fucking hopeless as well." "You could play for many years and not score a goal like (Marieanne) Spacey".

The latter followed by Gray's hysterical laughter during the 1998 Women's FA Cup Final, Key's eventually saying "I'm afraid Andy and I have to go at this point, there's no point trying to go on." Apparently all of that can be branded 'unacceptable' and yet the pair stay in their jobs earning a reputed £1.2 million each.

Has their departure from Sky come because of the whole Murdoch takeover debacle? I would guess Sky don't want to be seen as 'sexist' when there is an EU comissioned £12 billion deal at stake. I whole-heartedly disagree with the takeover, agreeing that Murdoch and News Corp. will have too much power. Apparently it's disgraceful to have two sexist pundits at the heart of their sports presenting team, but it's okay for The (News Corp. owned) Sun to run with the tacky and not at all questionable 'get 'em off' headline. What are Sky afraid of? Sexism and objectification runs rife with The Sun anyway with their headlines and Page 3 girls. Something is very wrong here. It seems News Corp. doesn't have a problem with it.

I think we can all agree that the fiasco has done more harm than good to the representation of women in football. Those on the side of The Sun (an alarming majority) and Keys and Gray are seeing a woman as the cause of a 'pointless' scandal that must be, of course, the woman's fault. I don't think women will ever win the argument that they have a place in football that is as fair as the men.

Oh well, I suppose this way we can focus on running countries like Australia, fighting for democracy in Burma and winning Oscars for Best Director instead of thinking about an "institutionally sexist old boy's club".

2011-01-22T05:06:00.001-08:00

I feel like I should blog but quite frankly nothing particularly fascinating is happening at the moment. This is, apparently, the bad part of being on a gap year. People are all at university and people who aren't are off in different countries, or are about to leave. I turned 19 though, which was cool.

I saw The King's Speech and it was brilliant. As someone who enjoys intergalactic space battles and car crashes and explosions and gun fights I was engaged throughout and the plot didn't lag at all. Colin Firth will win Best Actor or there is something very wrong with the world.

I have an interview at University College Falmouth on the 21st of February but no word from anywhere else. I will not panic. I will not panic.

I'm finding it difficult to apply myself at the moment and I really don't have time to faff about. I guess I'm just a bit worried and can't think ahead to anything. Bah. Unhelpful things are unhelpful.

2011-01-12T14:33:00.000-08:00

Evening all. Guess what? I turn 19 tomorrow. The last of the teen years.

The following is a list of all the good things that have happened to me as an 18 year old:

- Buying actual drinks in an actual bar.

- Using my debit card (ooh, how adult).

- The revelation that was Matt Smith.

- No more Paradise Lost.

- No more Deantaur/PAPA DEAN/"Is that a can of coke?!" (Is this a bad thing? I miss it!)

- No more freakin' Drama.

- No more school!

- Prom.

- Corfu.

- Spain winning the World Cup.

- Sarah Jane preview with bonus Lis Sladen and Katy Manning (plus Bonus!Reece).

- Psychoville preview with bonus (real life) REECE SHEARSMITH.

- The university tours.

- Getting a job.

- Passing my A Levels.

- My new MacBook Pro (♥)

- Gap Year general lulz.

- These are the things that spring to mind, frankly there is a LOT.

BRING ON BEING 19.

2011-01-09T06:29:00.000-08:00

On Thursday night I found myself back in our old school hall. It was, it has to be said, a little unusual to go back after that many months, not half because I think it became clear very early on who had changed and who hadn't. The first thing that became apparent was the awkwardness. It was like walking back into Havana for Prom, where at the beginning everyone just stood in the doorway and didn't seem particularly enthused with the idea that we had to all talk to each other.

As if we'd just come in for a CED Day, everyone sat instinctively around tables with the people they'd been with throughout their school days. There wasn't much "oh hey, come over here, what have you been doing?", more "wow, her arse got fat".

When they started reading out who was studying what, it also became obvious that our school had produced a obviously odd ratio of those doing scientific subjects to those doing English/literature based subjects. Neuroscience, Physics, Mathematics, Anthropology, Geography etc. were all choices that seemed to be announced with every other person. In a room of about 60% of our year, I was the only aspiring journalist. There were two people doing teaching. Laura was the only one doing Television Production. Writing as a whole was not a popular choice.

Perhaps this is because people believe there are no opportunities for those doing what my mother refers to as 'hippy subjects' like English. It's well known that scientists and mathematicians are needed in our current society. Do people really think there is no point doing something that has no guarantee of a job? Isn't that true of anything?

I've heard the phrase "don't study something you love, study something that will get you a job".

I disagree. When we chose our A Level subjects, I chose classes that I enjoyed, and that I knew I'd have fun doing. And I did. I got good grades. I don't want to spend my time forced into subjects and jobs that do not inspire or interest me. I suppose we can't afford to pick and choose, but I'd like to think that somehow I'll be able to have a career that I love.

2011-01-04T13:14:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year. I know, I know, shoot me. I'm late. Sorry and all that.

So right now, I'm listening to Eurythmics and planning out the rest of my week. It's getting busy, let me tell you. I might have Saturday off work though (I'm not sure) because the boss rang and seemed to indicate if I covered for her on Thursday I won't have to do Saturday. Which means I don't get to see Daniella for another week, which is a bummer, but I shall survive.

Has everyone made their resolutions? Has anyone broken their resolutions? My resolution, well, my main resolution, for this year is: BE BRAVE. I think it's time to stop freaking out about everything and embrace life a little more freely. I'll also be attempting to read more than two books every month this year, and get back to the gym on a regular basis. This year is going to be go go go without much room for slacking off.

Time for change, methinks.

2010-12-24T04:09:00.000-08:00

Nothing screams festive spirit like a chocolate Dalek on candy cane stabilisers. It's Christmas tomorrow and I am yet to feel particularly merry about much but we seem to be making it through without killing each other. So far. Doctor Who though, and a huge dinner will probably change the way I feel sooner or later. This whole 'Christmas' thing would probably also explain why there is an enormous cardboard box next to my bed filled with more smaller boxes, newspaper and treats for Ruddles to enjoy tomorrow morning. It says something about the state of our family life when the cats are getting more lavish gifts than we are.

Laura's birthday last night was absolutely bloody brilliant. Muchos entertaining, thanks LauBla!

Ruddles in a shopping bag thanks you for your time.

2010-12-18T14:30:00.000-08:00

Fa la la la laa la la la...fuck off*. Though perhaps not really.

Yes indeed people, it is exactly one week to Christmas and that means that it's one week until Doctor Who. If that's not something to be excited about, I don't know what is. Unfortunately the people I work with do not agree with me so when I saw that The Sun (I know, it's what the customers want) was giving away a free DVD of The End Of Time (parts 1 AND 2) and The Eleventh Hour, I pounced. I also took the free supplement magazine thing, ignoring the fact the front cover leads with the line DOCTOR LURVE and instead focusing on the dapper hunk of man that is Matt Smith. But I'm not here to talk about Doctor Who.

It snowed today and it snowed a lot. We shut at 3, an hour early, so the boss could go home to Luton without killing herself in the dark and this meant that I had to run around the shop like a total loon with the stales clip board counting how many sausage rolls we had left whilst people came in and continued to buy said sausage rolls. Why didn't you just wait until you'd locked up? You may be asking, and I shall tell you for why. Because we had 10 minutes to chuck, clean, mop and wash up the whole friggin' shop so we could all get out ASAP. Snow. Friggin' hell.

Anyway on Monday I have to go to town and do all the Christmas shopping (and some birthday shopping) that I've somehow managed to avoid doing until now. Fun times ahead. Sometimes I wonder what Christmas is like for the people who don't spend it simultaneously pretending to hate everything about it (oh God people want to be happy and merry, the sinning bastards) because everyone else does whilst also dreaming about the day she can put up her tree and decorate it with bags of festive crap, listening to crappy Christmas music and generally having a tacky but weirdly enjoyable holiday.

The highlight of today probably came when this foreign man came into work whilst the shop was packed and we were being worked off our little feet and just said "TWO BREAD" and my boss replied, rather quickly, "YOU'RE STANDING IN A BREAD SHOP, MATE". It's lost in the telling but at the time I was trying not to gigglesnort into some woman's Viennese Whirl.

*This is not a personal dig at Anne. I love Anne. I just thought it would be a trendy and witty way of beginning.

2010-12-13T14:48:00.000-08:00

We are very small. Space is very, very, very big. The average distance between stars is over 30 million million kilometres. At the speed of light, it would take us seven hours to get to Pluto from Earth. Our nearest neighbour in the cosmos, Proxima Centauri, is 4.3 light years away or a hundred million times further than a trip to the moon. From Pluto, the Sun merely resembles yet another bright star.

I'm telling you this because I like space. I've always liked space and only recently have I started to re-immerse myself in the sheer awesomeness that is our universe. I don't know whether I like space because I used to watch The Clangers a lot or because the lunar travel bit of the Natural History Museum has real moon gloves and space food. My favourite planet has always been Jupiter because it's the biggest and it has a massive red spot and has the most moons. Yeah, I'm shallow.

Often, the opening titles of Star Trek would interest me more than the actual episode. Especially the titles of Star Trek Voyager. I loved the bit in Walking with Dinosaurs when the asteroid smashed into Earth and blew away the T-Rex. I'd love to go to NASA one day. I don't believe in 'aliens' in the way that the movies depict them but sooner or later we will find insect-style life out there, much like the life that evolved here and eventually became us.

This has been very non-sequitur but the point is, space is amazing and I just wanted to say so.

2010-12-09T05:34:00.000-08:00

Anne and Laura have both recently been ill and have both recently blogged about being ill and for a little while I thought my hardened immune system (probably glowing an ominous green from all the yellow-stickered foods I've ever eaten) would hold out and I would not have to do a illness blog.

I was wrong. I am ill.

Dad bought me a tomato soup and said it broke his heart that he had to pay for something so expensive, just because of a brand name. He's being nice to me though, so that's good.

I am gross, tired, headachey, pukey ill. I hate cancelling things, and I've had to cancel two important things just today, and will have to, possibly, cancel two important things tomorrow. I'm supposed to have work on Saturday and Oxfam on Sunday.

I guess it's only when you're ill you realise how much you do as a person. I never thought I'd be one of those people who have lives busy enough that being stuck in bed all day is actually not a good thing. I love my bed. But when I'm supposed to be doing other important things, it's the last place I want to be.

Sad and ill Genie is sad and ill.

2010-12-05T03:53:00.000-08:00

Because I can't think of anything to blog about that concerns me directly or is vaguely original, I'm simply going to add my opinions to Laura's Blog about being famous. I find it an interesting subject.

In my mind there a four kinds of fame/celebrity:

1. Old School - Old school celebrities include the likes of Brad Pitt, David Beckham, RDJ, Penelope Cruz etc. who have forged a career in the limelight over years and years of hard work. These people are talented but are unfortunately becoming a rarity. They are universally known, and accepted as the top of the fame/celebrity hierarchy.

2. The Inspirational And Tirelessly Brilliant - This category is the one I think we appreciate most. In my mind, the people that fit in here include The League of Gentlemen, The Moff, Matt Smith, Karen Gillan, Simon Pegg etc. who have all come from humble beginnings, appreciate their fans and share many of the traits that us mere mortals do e.g. geekiness, crap in-jokes and the simple pleasure of M&S lunch deals. They are as normal as you can get in the position they are in.

3. The Talented Ones Who Came About Fame The 'Wrong' Way - You can't deny that singers like Leona Lewis and Alexandra Burke have amazing voices and have made considerable profits. Yes, they achieved fame through The X Factor but they do have a talent and do seem to be genuinely be thankful for what they are. JLS didn't win the competition, and they may not be my cup of tea, but I am yet to see an interview with them in which they badmouth other celebrities or come across as rude. Reality talent shows like The X Factor may make untalented people famous for 15 minutes but it also creates a life-changing (cringey cliche alert) opportunity for those who prove they have the talent and the confidence.

4. Reality Stars/Vapid Fame Hungry Whores - Jordan/Katie Price and her partner Whatshisface, Kerry Katona, Tila Tequila, the orange nobs on Jersey Shore, wannabe-WAGS, Katie Waissel, anyone on Big Brother, Vanessa Feltz, Gillian McKeith etc. the list goes on. The most common form of 'celebrity' and unfortunately the ones who get the most publicity. You know the types. The more the media feeds their desires to be front cover, page three or every page features, the longer their fifteen minutes continue, blocking any chance of the really talented and admirable to be noticed.

I'm not saying that the people in Category 4 are disgusting human beings. I'm sure they love their families and their friends and whatever. My problem lies with the fact that they are made out to be the most important things on the planet ever.

I'd never really sat down and watched The X Factor, but this year I can honestly say that Matt Cardle comes across as the most deserving and honest contestent that I've ever seen. I almost don't want him to win, so that he can carve out his career the way he wants rather than the way the recording/branding etc. bosses want him to be.

I also don't know where to put people like David Villa and Leo Messi, who are remarkably talented individuals, who inspire people all round the world and yet do not fit into Category 1 or Category 2. Is excellence in sport really less important than having big tits? Yes, I disagree with players being paid vast sums of money every week when nurses and firemen are being made redundant, but for their skill and the entertainment they provide with a ball, I certainly think they deserve more recognition than X's One Night Stand.

I think the moment I realised that people really saw on seperate levels the difference between talent and celebrity was after the Oscars earlier this year. In Media, we did a table of good role models and bad role models. When my teacher asked me who I thought was a good role model, I said Kathryn Bigelow. My teacher asked me "Who's she?" and I had to explain not just to her, but to the whole class that she is the first woman to win the Best Director Oscar. I didn't know how to feel after that.

I think I was, and still am, disappointed.

2010-11-25T09:29:00.001-08:00

You know you're tired when your mother refers to armadillos as 'armadildos' for a whole day and you don't notice until it's time to go home. Fortunately, we were at ZSL London Zoo, not a children's puppet show.

It was very cold. I was hoping it would warm up a little bit but it really didn't. As a result, I had my hands shoved into my coat pockets all day unless they were wrapped round a coffee. This also meant that I didn't pet any baby goats in the children's farm, or stroke the lovely pigs. The Bearded Pigs, by the way, were definitely the stars of the show. They were our first feeding visit of the day, and they were very cute and snorty and generally loveable.

Mum wasn't keen on the Komodo Dragons but they are my favourite, so we watched a keeper sit with the biggest male and pick his skin and give him a massage (which was awesome) and was very envious. The Galapagos Turtles, which were huge, lazy and incredibly slow also made good viewing.

As to be expected, there were school groups but they ran around getting glimpses and moving on so I was glad we had a bit more time to watch animals like the lions and tigers. Who both sat and slept seemingly all day. We visited them twice, a little later on the second time when the big groups had gone and the tigers were obviously aware it was nearly tea time and one of them was up on its feet. Being face to face with him, if just for a moment, was pretty cool.

I was pretty jealous of the lizards, who were in tanks heated to about 27 degrees and looked toasty warm. I wonder what life is like for them. They live longer but they don't have the freedom. Do you think they know they are saving their own species as they just sit there? I wish I could be that valuable and yet that lazy.

It would certainly stop me feeling guilty about having a 'lie-in' until 8:45.

2010-11-22T03:10:00.000-08:00

Hey Little World, coincidentally a song by The Hives. My favourite song by The Hives. The point still stands. Hello. I haven't blogged for a while because I've had nothing to say as nothing has happened. Nothing of 'interest' anyway.

I haven't seen Harry Potter yet, I'm not watching I'm A Celebrity, I saw Merlin on Sunday instead of Saturday (anarchy). My new PIN still hasn't arrived so I still don't have any access to my money. I have planned and know what I'm getting LAUBLA for her birthday, though Christmas is still a little fuzzy. I'm five chapters into Black Butterfly by Mark Gatiss, and loving it. My calendar for November remains remarkably empty, but that's probably because I haven't filled it in much. I'm trying to drink more water than I usually do. Was I paid for last week? I still don't know.

Oi, Mr Capello. Play Crouch as a starting forward, not an 84th minute substitute.

Matt Cardle is still on his way to winning The X Factor, by flaunting his glorious arms and beautiful voice. What a sexy bitch. UNF.

Sorry Laura.

2010-11-17T09:13:00.000-08:00

Work today was a laugh and a half, let me tell you. Called at 9ish, in by 10ish and out at 4:30. Ish.

I just knew today was going to be awful when a whole group of pikeys walked in. I know 'pikey' is a horrible word and probably offensive but there really is no other word that I can use to describe these creatures. There was a girl in a turquoise velour tracksuit with her mum, I think, and a girl who said nothing but looked alarmingly like a grumpy heron. Her face was remarkably pointy. Anyway they had these bizarre accents and ordered a ton of food like eclairs and a toasted sandwich. Then two more guys came in and were horribly rude to poor Ross who put up with it and made one guy a toasted baguette. As they were toasting my boss signalled for me to come up into the kitchen where she said "...watch out what drinks they're having because they keep taking them off the shelf" and, indeed, they were helping themselves to milk and Red Bull.

Eventually, after 'finishing', the girls stood up and headed for the door, signalling for all the others to go to. I shouted "Excuse me? I think you need to pay?" and the turquoise girl goes "I already have, haven't I?" to which I actually almost laughed. Anyway, she handed the uglier boy a fiver and they all left the shop, even though their order cost £13.11, and this guy just stood there holding out the fiver as my boss pointed out that that really wasn't going to cover it and "...this bill needs paying". So he argued pointlessly that it wasn't even his order, which was fair enough, and shoved a handful of coins into my boss's hand before stomping out himself. All three of us were in a bad mood and weirdly quite shakey, my boss asking me quietly "...are you okay?" as I went to fetch more lettuce.

"Fine," I replied, because I was. "but I think you should tell Ross to put that knife down."

And then, 5 minutes before I could leave, I was cleaning the coffee machine. I hadn't done it for a while so forgot to keep the funnels on the pipe from inside which usually directs the liquid downwards. Instead, I pressed 'rinse' and the boiling hot water shot straight out, straight into the middle of my chest. I shouted an "OH, OH PANTS!" because there was a family trying to eat krispie cakes behind me, and tried to stop the flow with my hands.

If you saw 'The Waters of Mars', it was that kind of jet propulsion but into me, rather than out.

Anyway, Ross ran down and we scrabbled around trying to attach everything back on by which point the water, thankfully, had stopped.

It's now 17:40 and hopefully nothing else crap can happen tonight. Hopefully.

2010-11-14T09:07:00.000-08:00

As you probably know by now, the brilliant Martin Freeman has been cast as Bilbo Baggins in the new 2-part adaption of The Hobbit. If you didn't know this, where is this rock you've been living under? What have you been doing with yourself? The God-like Peter Jackson has been quoted as saying "...there has only ever been one Bilbo Baggins for us...Martin is intelligent, funny, surprising and brave. Exactly like Bilbo...". C'mon, the guy even looks like a Hobbit. It's a casting made in Heaven. Returning as their original characters of Gandalf, Gollum and Elrond respectively are Ian McKellen, Andy Serkis and Hugo Weaving. Sylvester McCoy will become Radagast the Brown. Awesome, awesome, awesome.

So that's all well and good but it's not what I wanted to blog about. I want to blog about the casting director's choices for the dwarves. Now, I'm not saying I know anything about being a casting director. From past experience I have perhaps not been the fairest judge of character (*ahem* Matt Smith as the Doctor and my following humiliation as he turned out to be utterly fantastic). On the whole, the choices for the majority of the dwarves in The Hobbit all sound great.

Spooks actor Richard Armitage is lead dwarf Thorin, Being Human actor Aiden Turner is Kili and a host of well-respected Kiwi actors and Jackson-associates complete the casting. It's nice to see quiet, proper actors being given the chance to shine for once.

My problem lies with the casting of Fili. They've cast Rob Kazinsky, an ex-EastEnders actor. For those who are unaware of Mr Kazinsky, he's the guy who got suspended from EastEnders for bombarding a woman with dirty text messages and photos of himself. Including one of a pig with his cock for a head. Classy.

I suppose he's probably a nice guy in real life or whatever and a reasonably good actor, Jackson likes him, but as a big LotR fan, and an admirer of Tolkein in general, I'd really rather have actors who can be relied upon not to act like schoolboys in one of the most anticipated fantasy films in recent years. Sorry if that's uppity, but I can't help it. I just prefer my actors with dignity.

The Hobbit (Part One) will be out in 2012.

2010-11-11T11:43:00.000-08:00

In a perfect world the Sun would always be shining. People would be friendly and understanding. Kittens would dance with puppies at a disco arranged by unicorns and Oreos would be a standard health requirement. Unfortunately for all of us, we do not live in a perfect world. Far from it, in fact. Take yesterday for instance. I had a filling, and that meant an injection. It does not usually mean that one side of my face swells up, but that was indeed what happened. Cue an uncomfortable night's sleep after a surprisingly delicious chicken soup. I went to work today in hurricane conditions with a puffy face expecting a normal day. This did not happen.

The front page of The Sun this morning was a large photo of a yob kicking the Tory HQ apart during the 'hijacked' student protest. So this woman comes in and orders a bag full of stuff and when my back is turned, looks at the paper. She then announces after a moment's serious thought "...if they [students] want to go to University, they have to pay for it." She then went on to talk loudly about how students behaved disgustingly on the protest and insinuated heavily that the middle-class already have enough money to pay for it so what are they so protesting about?

Ooh, I don't know. Maybe £9,000+ a year student fees? Perhaps? WELL?

I was actually shaking with rage. My swollen cheek was wobbling with fury. It had a mind of its own. I made extra effort to be super-sloppy with her egg mayo sandwich, enjoying myself as I slapped mayonnaise all over the crusts. That'll teach her. Egg mayo in return for ignorance.

Handily, my bad mood was soon forgotten as a huge gust of wind (tornado-esque) ripped our shop awning from its brackets and across the road, onto the front bonnet of a car trying to reverse. I would've laughed, except someone seriously lacking a sense of humour was trying to order a cheese sandwich. Meanwhile, my boss was running about in the road attempting to gather up the awning in the pissing rain, apologising profusely to the driver and trying not to slip over.

10 minutes later we got a message on the till that honestly read "PLEASE WITHDRAW ALL AWNINGS. WIND IS VERY STRONG." My boss bellowed a "for fuck's sake" which pretty much summed up my exact emotions at that point in time. I shrugged, and got on with wiping bacon off my shoe.

2010-11-09T02:13:00.000-08:00

Watch yourself. Changes are a-coming.

Big? Small? Positive? Negative? Who knows?!

2010-11-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

Waking up at 6:30am yesterday morning really wasn't as bad as I would otherwise make it out to be. It was (finally) my last university open day, this time at Northampton, the hometown of Matt Smith. After my sausage bap and our coffees in Debenhams, we went to catch the bus following the instructions in the prospectus, which stated that the No. 21 bus runs to the Uni from Stop C. Approaching the bus timetable, we were able to read that in fact, the No. 21 doesn't actually go anywhere on Saturdays as it doesn't even run on weekends.

If you are expecting the day to perk up after this, think again.

Luckily the No. 19 ran to where we needed to go so we hopped on and finally made it to the campus. Opposite an enormous and spacious park, the place itself wasn't too unattractive. Unlike the back end of town which we wandered through, which was dominated with pound shops and a 'Booze City'. We headed for speedy booking, which took longer than turning up without booking, and were told that we'd be collected from the main hall to go to the journalism talk at 11.

While waiting, we played a fun game called 'Guess Who's The Course Leader For What', at which we were reasonably accurate, correctly guessing that the snappily dressed woman was head of fashion and textiles and the man in the braces was English. A man then came in dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans, and bearing a strong resemblance to Edgar Wright. He called the journalism people, as well as media production and film and television studies.

So we headed off to this room, which was already full of people. Edgar then announced to us all that he was actually the head of music production or some other bollocks, but was going to do the talk off a slide show for us for some reason. Meanwhile, an Irish man stood facing away from us, occasionally muttering words we couldn't make out. At the risk of sounding like an old drama teacher, the acoustics were terrible, and as we were at the back, we couldn't hear a thing. The entire talk was focused on media and film and television, with no effort to discuss journalism whatsoever.

After nearly 40 minutes of "mumble numble...rumble...bleughhh" the Irish man, who turned out to be the representative from journalism, announced he was going to take people on tours of the studios. He took the first two rows. There were approximately eight. We were the last. While waiting, Edgar put on a film that we couldn't hear either which did mention some journalism stuff but not much.

We gave up waiting, and went to reception to ask if they had a hall where we could talk to someone one-to-one, like at all the other open days we'd been to. The girl didn't want to say no, so she got this poor man to run around trying to find someone to talk to us. Eventually, the half Dean or something came to see us and announced she didn't really know the journalism course either, that the head of the subject was at home "...because he has a family" and proceeded to spend 15 minutes reading off a booklet we already had, just bullshitting to within an inch of her life. She was really quite good at it.

So we went for lunch, which was pretty cheap (that's a good thing) and decided to check out the library (which was also pretty good) before waiting for 40 minutes at a bus stop to come home.

This morning I got an email asking for my opinion on the open day. Was it well organised? Did I get all I needed from it?

I wonder what I'll put.

2010-11-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

I've developed an unattractive habit. Whenever I collapse into an armchair, sofa or bed, I can't help but sigh an audible "Oh, God". I can't be that tired. And I'm not religious. Maybe I'm just grumpy. Maybe it's because I'm flippin' ILL.

Yes, Niagra Nose has returned! And I'm sneezing a lot. But my sore throat has pretty much gone leaving me sounding like a disgruntled Darth Vader. I may have another bath tonight.

It's so exhausting being an up and coming writer. When I'm not rubbing shoulders with actors and producers I'm off having photoshoots. Yes, tomorrow Laura and I are off to have a makeover and photos taken in a studio in Farringdon. I'm very much looking forward to it, and apparently they do photoshopping stuff so my bright red nose can be edited into normality.

"YOU CANNOT BUY MY OPINION, LIKE YOU WOULD BUY A USED MOTOR CAR!"

2010-11-01T08:20:00.000-07:00

Okey kokey, pig-in-a-pokey! Time to complete my '10 things...' list.

Psychoville was absolutely excellent last night, and if you haven't seen it yet, do so NOW! Reece Shearsmith was even more brilliant in person than I think Laura and I ever expected. Very fidgety, very funny and generally a really, really awesome person. (I hate the phrase 'down to Earth'). "Steve...I done a bad preview..."

TEN things you wish you could say to TEN different people right now.

10. Right, so...see you at Christmas?

9. I wish you'd stayed behind.

8. I want the old you back. Is it possible?

7. I'm really quite glad it all got sorted out in the end.

6. I wish I'd just done it when I had the chance. Perhaps things would be different.

5. I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you for ages.

4. Stop treating me like a freaking monkey drone.

3. It's really not THAT difficult you know.

2. Please please sort it out! It's really bloody worrying!

1. I was disappointed that I hadn't gone to University this year. But actually, the thought of missing out on all this epicness and general brilliance with you makes me thankful I did stay behind.

NINE things about yourself.

9. I tire of things easily.

8. I know what I want to do...more or less.

7. I have no drive to go back to the gym, but I do have to.

6. I'm pretty excited for the upcoming months.

5. But I fear I'm neglecting the important stuff for the fun stuff.

4. I HATE mouth ulcers (just because I have one right now).

3. I have an insane knowledge of fonts. Like, text ones not religious ones.

2. I have man shoulders and I dislike my hair. Still.

1. Reading Conversations makes me feel better no matter what's wrong.

EIGHT ways to win your heart.

8. Embrace the nerdiness.

7. Cook good stuff.

6. Don't be easily put off.

5. Love Doctor Who, unconditionally.

4. Be ready for laziness.

3. Prepare to watch a lot of scifi/fantasy movies.

2. Be funny.

1. Just...be lovely.

SEVEN things that cross your mind a lot.

7. Migraines.

6. Work.

5. Money.

4. The internet.

3. Stresssssss!

2. Kitties.

1. What am I doing tomorrow?

SIX things you do before you fall asleep?

6. Turn my laptop charger off at the wall.

5. Write my diary.

4. Read.

3. Arrange my pillows.

2. Put Star on the bed.

1. Sleep.

FIVE people who mean a lot to you at the moment.

5. Them, specifically Him.

4. Fam.

3. D-Girrlllll!

2. My friends at Uni.

1. My friends at home.

FOUR things you see right now.

4. The framed prom picture.

3. My picture wall.

2. The Vesuvius Club.

1. My camera.

THREE songs that you listen to often.

3. Oh My God - Ida Maria

2. The xx - VCR

1. Well All Right - The Hives

TWO things you want to do before you die.

1. Tick everything off the list, and a lot of it is unlikely.

2. Be one of them.

ONE confession.

1. Everything is always so difficult. I'm amazed we all cope.

Laura's desktop background is the same as mine, so I'm going to show you what my desk area/work station/laptop zone looks like.

2010-10-29T12:42:00.000-07:00

A SUGGESTION FROM BLOGBYKOBRAK:

In the first of a series of blogs in which I discuss my favourite things, I'm going to talk to you this evening about The League of Gentlemen. It seems pretty apt to talk about this, seeing as Laura and I are going to be in the presence of Reece Shearsmith on Sunday night (omdfkgjnkajfhjn!!).

A couple of years ago I had a birthday party during which my room was turned into a little cinema, with a projector playing movies onto my bedroom wall. One of these films was The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse. In retrospect, I feel a bit guilty about watching the film first as I had no idea about the awesomeness that is the television and radio shows. Many a maths lesson was filled with me and Jodie quoting Geoff Tipps ("Braille!?") and Hilary Briss ("They weren't pork...").

In comes Laura with her suggestion a while ago that I watch the first episode of the first season. The rest is history. Since then we have watched and listened to pretty much everything The League have produced. My personal favourites are probably the live Drury Lane show and Series 3. For this reason I found myself in hysterics listening to Steve Pemberton (also in hysterics) doing a fart in a haunted house last night. Or Mark Gatiss telling us about his favourite horror films. And of course, Sunday night with Reece Shearsmith. Have I mentioned Sunday night with Reece Shearsmith?

I think The League appeal to us because they are British, funny, clever and brilliant. Much like our other favourite things (Doctor Who etc.). You shouldn't really be laughing at a toad in a blender or an all too realistic (i.e. shit) theatre company, but that's why it works. Because it's so realistic. And because shouting "Miss...Cathy Carter Smith!" will never not be appropriate.

(From Psychoville S1 E4)

2010-10-27T07:40:00.000-07:00

I NEED TO START DOING FUN AND QUIRKY BLOG POSTS.

I just realised the majority of my blogs are about dull things like education and work. I was going through my archive and I thought 'where has all my fun and quirk (?) gone?!'

So please, give me suggestions of things to write about or do. As long as they're not illegal or harmful I will do them. Thankyou!

2010-10-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

Right, time for a catch up.

World, you amazing thing, you've finally done it. I've found a University I would love to go to. Before I say where it is, I shall give you the reasons for my choice. The buildings were amazing. They have old, boarding school style buildings but with a massive, modern building as the hub of it all. It was in a quiet little city (I suppose, they have a famous cathedral), with a very close and totally not-wild feel to it. It's one hour on the train from London Waterloo. The guy who did the journalism talk was fantastic and made it very clear what would be expected of us. Their practical production suite was AMAZING. I actually feel very up for the challenge of their selection process (interview, practical and academic tests). The place is Winchester, people, and it is perfect.

On a totally unrelated note -

LAURA AND I ARE GOING TO SEE THE PSYCHOVILLE HALLOWE'EN SPECIAL IN LESS THAN A WEEK WITH THE AMAZING AND UTTERLY BRILLIANT MR REECE SHEARSMITH IN ATTENDANCE!

2010-10-17T05:43:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a garden. I was a very nice garden, lots of care had gone into it to make it look lovely and memorable and often people would walk past it and look at it and mutter to each other about how nice it was. It's distinguishing features included a large wooden obelisk in the centre, a spiral of paving slabs (now slightly hidden by plants and flowers) and a large window (or hole) in the hedge. Said hedge was designed to look, apparently, like two elephants following each other. A stone wall was also in place to stop the beautiful garden growing outwards into the street.

One cold dark night, however, an evil machine called a BMW Car decided that it didn't like the stone wall, or the wooden gatepost with the number 19 on it, or, indeed, one of the elephants, and thought that the best thing to do would be to drive itself into said things and knock them all over.

The wall was reduced to rubble, spilling out onto the pavement, the gatepost was knocked backwards and the elephant has been cut in half.

At the very same time, a girl was asleep in the bedroom at the front of the house. Hearing a loud banging sound, she put it down to a car driving over a recycling box and smashing it to pieces. The girl's cat was, at the time, wrapped tightly around her neck, its wheezy face on hers. She was unable to get up.

Finding the destruction the following morning, the girl felt guilty for not following her usual nosy reaction of leaping to the window to see what the noise was therefore, did not get a number plate of the BMW Car, and the perpetrator has escaped.

As the girl's brother pointed out, however, the people across the road have a BMW, and their car hasn't been seen since.

2010-10-13T11:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, so last night was seriously one of the most awesome nights I've ever had. The day was great (though I didn't accept my Fox's Glacier Mint reward at the arcade), we walked a lot and ate stuff from Cyber Candy and then went to the BFI with, as it is aptly named, the nice surpise of some Bonus!Reece.

Laura's blog pretty much covers everything, so I'm just posting photos and saying that OMGOKGMGOKGMOMGGOMG like I did last night with Laura as we jumped up and down and literally flailed in our seats at the awesomeness of it all. Humatity does sometimes throw up some really wonderful things. And it was amazing to be able to enjoy it all with other like-minded people.

And on a serious note, my laptop has fallen suddenly into its grave so you know, infrequent blogging will be even more infrequent. Poo.

Now to find a frame...

2010-09-30T12:24:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I haven't blogged for a while. It's been a bit hectic. It still is, actually, but I'm sitting here watching Nigella Kitchen wondering how on Earth she has the energy to bake a peanut butter cheesecake in the middle of the night, and I thought it'd be best that I finally do a blog.

I'm working full time at the moment, this week and next week. It's hard but not unpleasant. People tend to be nice and I'm starting to recognise customers and their orders. Lunchtimes are impossible; the queue is often right out the door. Plus my feet ache.

I went to Worcester on Sunday to check out the university, and it was pretty nice. The journalism course looks pretty cool, and there seems to be a possibility of a semester abroad which was not mentioned in the prospectus. Either way, when she was talking about internet journalism, and she asked who had a blog, I was the only one who put a hand up. Kudos.

I seem to have pretty much sealed the deal on being the Press and Publicity Officer for the Carlisle United Supporters' Club London Branch, or rather, Dad has. I appear to have the backing of the club members and quite frankly, it's going to look impressive on my CV and more importantly, my personal statement. Chester on Saturday.

I hope I'm back for Merlin.

2010-09-19T08:50:00.000-07:00

Hello, world. New blog, new start.

And so, as many of my age group set out on their next big adventure, Uni, I stay behind. Laura, Anne, Doug and myself face at least half a year slotting the pieces (idealistic and realistic) of our individual lives together and making plans for next year.

My decision as far as Maths goes looks to be this - enter myself for the summer GCSE and get myself a tutor in order to get the teaching part of it sorted. I'll be going into school on Wednesday to see if that can be arranged. Followed by League of Gentlemen raves at Laura's. See? I have my priorities sorted.

I've been asked to work full time for a couple of weeks at Simmons in order to cover for the co-manager who's off to Florida on Tuesday. I'll work this Friday and Saturday, then two weeks, then a Monday and then I'm done. It'll be tiring but shouldn't be all that bad.

On the 12th of October, I've booked tickets for Laura and I to go to a special preview of The Sarah Jane Adventures episode entitled Death of the Doctor. The showing will apparently be followed by a panel discussion with Elisabeth Sladen and the producers, script editors etc. It says cast and crew in attendence, though I don't know if that just means the aforementioned or others, but I guess we won't know until we get there. It's going to be AWESOME though.

I have an open day at the University of Worcester on Sunday to look forward to as well.

Bon. That's what's been happening with me, cool cool?

2010-09-15T11:57:00.000-07:00

So I was watching The One Show earlier this evening, and Stephen Fry was the guest, and he made a point that triggered a stream of thought in my little brain. He was talking about how he only went to three lectures at University, because they cut into his own personal schedules. When asked what he did instead, he answered that he read books, digested them, thought about them and discussed them. That was the way he learnt.

And, since finishing school, I've found myself with this thirst for intellectuality that I can't seem to stop. Not that I didn't read before, but since getting back from Corfu I've gone from book to book to book without any prolonged pauses. Maybe it's because I have more time on my hands but I certainly didn't make time in the evenings and mornings where I'd read for an hour in the past.

I've caught myself willingly watching documentaries on BBC4 and watching the news instead of breakfast television. I'm listening to Classic FM and the BBC Proms on iPlayer in my free time. I'm reading the Money, Work and main sections of the Guardian rather than just the Weekend and Sport.

Perhaps for this reason, being told today that Luton College's Maths GCSE course is full and that I can't study there, or at West Herts (who ~helpfully told Dad and I when I went to enrol last week that they'd pulled the course a week before) is making me more depressed than I'm being told it probably should. All colleges have begun their terms.

I don't know what to do. I'm worrying.

No Maths GCSE = no Uni, no employment in my future and generally, well, nothing.

Geez, what a downer blog. I didn't mean it to be. Honest.

2010-09-06T06:13:00.000-07:00

MY FRIENDS AND OTHER PIGEONS
A video account of Corfu. Or some of it, anyway.

2010-08-27T07:47:00.001-07:00

Oh my GOD,

I got a JOB!

2010-08-19T04:33:00.000-07:00

Hi post-results people. How did you do? I hope all went well for you.
This is just a quick blog to say:

Media Studies: A
English Lit: B
Drama: C

And that is the end of that. Party party party tonight.

2010-08-14T07:11:00.000-07:00

We went out for dinner last night because it was Mum's birthday on Wednesday and we couldn't go out on Wednesday because Neil had football and football is too important to cancel for a birthday meal. Anyway, we went to Cafe Rouge, somewhere I'd never been before, and it was really nice. I had a crab cake starter, then mussels and a herb mash and then blackcurrant sorbet for pudding. I drew a picture of Mum and Dad on a napkin because we didn't have a camera and Neil and I kept saying things like "the food was cold, the plate was cold, the meat was cold, the cardigan was cold..." in a northern accent and miming for the bill like Lee Evans.

The group on the table next to us, however, were a proper bunch of weirdos. The woman closest to us sat with her hand in the ice bucket all evening, occasionally bringing it out to check on her fingers. Mum and I overheard her say at one point "...yeah, and he just tripped over and cracked his head open and that was it..." and I caught Mum's eye and we giggled loudly into our mains. Then she started talking about fundraiser where Jude Law turned up with his kids. When their puddings arrived, the man opposite her (husband?) said nothing and the woman said "...you ordered the apple tart, didn't you BABE?" and ended the evening by nodding to the waitress and saying "...that poor woman isn't going to want me back, I've just sat here with my hand in a bucket of ice all evening".

On Thursday night/early Friday morning, there was a massive argument going on across the road from our house. I cracked the curtain open, and saw a girl (drunk) and 2 guys standing and yelling at each other. The girl kept shouting "I'M NOT A FUCKING POODLE!" at the top of her voice, "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" and occasionally slapping her male friends who were trying to get her to shut up and win the argument at the same time by saying things like "...be quiet, you call me worse things than 'poodle', you call me fat and a minger...". Eventually, our neighbour stuck his head out of the window and shouted "Could you take your argument somewhere else please? The whole street doesn't want to hear it!" To which the girl shouted back: "But he called me a POODLE!"

Eventually they went up to the top of the street where there is a small bench. I had crept into Neil's room by this point, and we were both watching the proceedings with childish excitement. We almost died laughing when we heard the girl screech "...I'm not a DOG, I'm a GIRL!" and when she walked back down the street with a girl friend who'd managed to calm her down, Neil asked me if it would be a good idea to shout "OI! POODLE!" out of the window and see if she responded.

My life isn't usually this exciting and I'm not used to it.

2010-08-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

Black cloud and thunderstorm mood has gone. It is replaced by an overcast with sunny intervals mood. What a pleasant change. Put on your coats and thermals because here comes another weather metaphor update.

Okay. So. In town today I got some information (with Laura's help) on where to do a maths GCSE part time. West Hert's College, would you believe. And I'm keen to sign up and get going but I suppose I should perhaps explore some more options before spending the £300+ cost. I know. If all goes to plan I'll be sorted for enrolment by the end of the week.

I've re-written my CV, in the hopes that it may give me a bit more luck with jobs etc. but you never know.

Dad spoke to his 'connections' in Carlisle and there is a possibility that I may get on a three week internship doing press/media/journalism related stuff for Carlisle United. There's a foot in the door that'll certainly help when it comes to application time. Hopefully. It should be awesome, anyhow. Now to work it in around the maths...

Anyway, if none of it works out, I read in my book earlier that the Moon is moving away from us at a speed of 4cm a year, and in 2 billion years, it will have gotten so far away that its gravitational magnetic influence on the Earth will be lost, and as a result, we'll spin like a top before falling into the sun, roasting and burning to death.

Silver linings and all.

2010-08-04T08:15:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've blogged, and not just me. Everyone seems to be away at the moment, enjoying holidays or breaks. I'm home alone as I write this as Neil and Dad are up in Carlisle and Mum is at work. The boys don't get back until Sunday, so I'll be spending this week sitting by myself in the house, doing odd jobs and trying not to freak out.

The latter, I'm afraid is not going so well. I am panicking, quite a bit, about what I'm supposed to be doing with myself. I'm still searching for work, though it's near impossible as A, I don't have any experience and B, I don't have a C in Maths GCSE. This immediately makes me pretty much un-employable, if that's even a word, and worse than that, what universities will want to take me without it? Exactly.

So I've tried doing to some research into what I can do, and Oaklands College don't do Maths courses, and the re-takes are in November but I don't have any coursework to back up the exam even if I did somehow get myself in for it. Plus I have to pretty much learn the entire course all over again, and no way can I fit two years of learning into a couple of months.

The worst thing is I had my chance before and I just blew it. I could've re-taken in year 12 but I was so bloody stupid and not thinking ahead and this is precisely the reason why I feel like a twat talking about it because it is my fault that I'm in this mess.

I know this is a ranty blog but I need to get this out of my head.

So, my outlook is this - I keep trying to hopelessly find a job, whilst trying to find somewhere that I can do Maths before next year in the hope that I'll have the grades in time to get to University. I also have to cram in open days and application among this, as well as attempting not to feel every single day like I'm slacking off, sponging off my parents by still living in the house without bringing in any income and generally not doing anything with myself that could be considered 'productive'.

What a crappy blog post. Sorry.
Have a better day.

2010-07-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

My Secrets

(bloody bloody copyright, bahhh)

2010-07-25T07:47:00.000-07:00

Last night, I decided to spend nearly three hours or so (maybe it was that, I wasn't keeping count) sitting in the kitchen by myself, not talking to anyone and with my headphones plugged into my laptop. Why? Because it was the Doctor Who Prom last night!

I'm listening to it again now, and I have to say it really is utterly brilliant. The music composed by Murray Gold was fantastic, as usual, and I honestly don't know how he manages to capture the characters and the excitement of the programme, but he does. And he does it well.

They played The Madman With A Box, An Untimely Arrival, I Am The Doctor, Battle In The Skies, Amy's Theme, Liz, Lizards, Vampires and Vincent, The Pandorica Suite and The Title Credits.

They also included some pieces from S3 and 4 - This Is Gallifrey and Song Of Freedom. The latter was very moving and a great way to end.

My favourite? Without a shadow of a doubt I Am The Doctor. It's exciting, fun, adrenaline pumping, heartbeat-racing brilliance. I'm saying brilliant a lot. But it is. It sums up the Eleventh Doctor so so well and when you hear it you just know something amazing is going to happen. They played the speech from The Pandorica Opens when he's speaking to the ships at Stonehenge over the top and it shouldn't have worked but it just did.

The best piece of Doctor Who music I think Murray Gold has produced thus far.

Find part one HERE and part two in the bar at the bottom. They filmed it for BBC3 to be shown later in the month/next month I think. Go listen now and enjoy it without the visual stuff, personally, I think it's even better this way.

2010-07-21T12:52:00.001-07:00

I have not done a blog for ages.

Monday night was Anne's birthday party, and we all went to Nando's and had a good time, eating hummus and chicken and all sorts and giving presents and generally feeling bon about everything. Jess, of course, was absent as she's currently in Brazil so there was an empty chair. She was very polite and didn't take up any room and agreed to hold all the presents until we moved on over to Cross Keys for wine and pitchers. A good evening had by all, I think.

Assuming that Ma and Pa were back from their evening at the Tower of London I put the latch down on the front door, and just as I was drifting into a pleasant night's sleep I remembered that actually they weren't back yet, they were walking up the driveway and ringing on the doorbell asking what pillock locked the front door. Hello.

I had to cancel coffee with Caitlin today, which really annoyed me as I was very much looking forward to it. I woke up and my eyes were being weird and I had a headache and then my arm went dead and all tingly, quickly followed by my tongue. A quick Wiki search later this evening seems to have revealed I had a migraine. So I put my pyjamas back on and slipped back into bed for an hour or so until I felt a bit better. The rest of the day was rather wasted taking painkillers and watching TV, however, I did pop down to Morrisons etc. (on Laura's manic suggestion) to try and find a copy of the latest Doctor Who Magazine which I could not.

Here's to a slightly less painful rest of the week.

2010-07-16T01:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a funny old day. Alex rang me on Wednesday night and asked me if I wanted to go with her and Elise to the iTunes festival at the Camden Roundhouse, to which I said 'yeah, should be cool'. So we got into London and had dinner at Alex's, before getting on the tube to our destination.

We were waiting around for a while outside, unsure of where to go. We tried going in through the front doors (as you would) but we were accosted by a film crew from a website who wanted to know how we felt about the gig (which was apparently opera by Rolando Villazon). We stood, said nothing much except 'err...' before Alex confessed we didn't really know what we were doing and the guys looked at us like we were morons before letting us go off and try and work out where to go.

Eventually, we did find where we were supposed to be, and we waited for about an hour until we were given wristbands and led to a bar area on the upper floor of the Roundhouse. Unsure of what was happening, the eighteen of us confused looking people found ourselves facing a TV set, i.e. two sofas, a glass coffee table, all lit and cameras pointing. We were told the presenters would be arriving soon so to relax a bit before going to stand on set behind the sofas.

By this point, words like 'live' and '1 hour' where being thrown about. Then Fearne Cotton and Dave Berry turned up, said hello to us and started rehearsing what would be the opening to the ITV2 show doing the live coverage. Elise, Alex and I were very excited. The show was going out live for an hour and Elise was fluffing her hair up like mad.

Then they said the guests were there, and I looked into the crowd behind the camera and saw Mark Ronson, at which point I got even more excited. His hair is even cooler in real life. Actually, he was just the epitome of cool full stop. And he was sitting barely a metre and a half away. The second guest was Ashley Banjo from Diversity, who was very tall, very nice and very good looking.

You can find the video on ITV Player HERE, we're standing near the back on the left hand side, I'm in blue, Elise in pink and Alex in a grey vest. What a cool night, and good experience for me as Alex so rightly pointed out. Fab fab fab.

2010-07-14T13:01:00.001-07:00

Oh, hello world. I'm back from Corfu. In fact, I've been back from Corfu since Monday but I've only just got round to doing an 'I'M BACK FROM CORFU' post. Hello.

First things first, Corfu was excellent. I had a fab time and I'm brown and feeling happy about my friends and the fact that they're all really rather awesome. My highlights included swimming in the sea, drinking Greek coffee and having an in-depth discussion about what on Earth a 'Clunge Bucket' is. To name a few.

Spain won the World Cup. I didn't actually get to see the final but I'm glad of this in retrospect as when I got back, I watched the highlights and literally cried with joy. Fantastic. Viva La Furia Roja.

I have a growing list of things I need to do (some urgent, some not) and the next few weeks seem to be a little busy for me in terms of meals, dentists, haircuts and Dark Star's birthday.

Hello. It's nice to be back.

2010-07-03T06:05:00.000-07:00

VIVA LA FURIA ROJA!

2010-07-01T07:12:00.000-07:00

Leaver's Ball was actually really, really good. I had a great time. My feet did not. Although initially being hesitant, there was dancing going on (including some Time Lord dancing a la The Big Bang) and lots of shouting over loud music and good drinks and excellent and very pretty people to talk to.

As Anne's dad said, we do scrub up nicely.

2010-06-29T02:31:00.000-07:00

HELLO INTERNET!

First off, I'd like to thank Tim Berners-Lee for creating this marvellous, world-changing piece of technology. And also for giving it to humanity, not charging for it. I would also like to kick BT in the nads for being a total cocking waste of space.

Secondly, this is a quick blog, hopefully, as I'm off to town with Anne in a bit.

I don't know where to start. This time next week, I'll be in Corfu. Which is nice, and exciting and a bit worrying but I'm sure we'll all get on fine and be happy and have a great time. In between now and then, we have our Leaver's Ball tomorrow night, and then I have the TYC Thesp's Meal on Friday night. So a fairly busy week.

Doctor Who was fantastic and although I don't have time to re-watch it now, I shall be doing so the minute I get back in. Oh, Matt Smith and Karen Gillan. You make me feel like such a bloody hypocrite. Curse your brilliance.

England are out of the World Cup. There was a large, Rio Ferdinand-shaped hole in our defence and to be honest, I feel that there was really no point of Wayne Rooney even being there, as all he did was moan, have a go at the fans and walk about the pitch like he couldn't care less.

VIVA LA FURIA ROJA!

And, because Caitlin asked, these are the books I plan to read this summer. Some of them, anyway:

Glamorama by Bret Easton Ellis - I'm already a quarter of the way through.
A Short History Of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson - It's big, and looks awesome. Bought it on a whim.
Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres - Well, we are going to Greece.
A Serious Man by David Storey - Again, on a whim, from the bookshelf outside my room.

And, the one I'm MOST excited for:

Imperial Bedrooms by Bret Easton Ellis - Which, although it's not out yet, will probably be my literary highlight of the year.

Please keep in mind they are all rather large books. THANKYOU!

2010-06-26T02:56:00.000-07:00

It's the LAST Doctor Who of this series tonight!

(My internet has died and I am in the library, throwing glances at a working Laura in a seductive temptress way until she notices.)

2010-06-20T03:10:00.000-07:00

SPOILERS HERE FOR DOCTOR WHO 5x12:
THE PANDORICA OPENS

As much as us Who fans all hate to admit it, series finale time is upon us. This ultimately means solo-viewing of the episode as it airs, texting fellow Who friends followed by immediate internetz to check theories, pose and answer questions and try and find out what the hell the Moffat is trying to do to us.

"The Pandorica. That's a fairytale."
"...aren't we all?"

So, The Pandorica Opens, with all the build up throughout the series with the cracks and the warnings and all sorts, was obviously going to be somekind of insane setup to make sure that the last episode will be as explosive and memorable as possible. And indeed it was. I already knew that the Cybermen would be returning, though I was pleasantly surprised to see that Moffat has decided (and listened to the fans) to not just have the Daleks or the Cybermen solely returning, as this tends to result in many a rolling eye.

There was a great mix of cameo, if you can call that, from Vincent, Liz 10, Churchill and Bracewell, the returning River Song (who on the internet generates an equal ratio of love to hate) and some great comedy as well, which was nice to see in such a tense episode.

"Oh, missing something obvious Rory! Something big. Something right slap in front of me, I can feel it."
"Yeah, I think you probably are."

And Rory returned! Well, sort of and not really. I think he's going to be one of those very important plot points, even more so than he already is, perhaps. I have to admit, I did do a little cheer when he appeared. And some sadness when he asked if Amy had missed him. And that cliffhanger. You can't be serious, Moff? You can't be. There is, if you want to find it, an interesting interview with Karen Gillan in the Radio Times which may or may not suggest that she'll definately be coming back. I suppose it depends on what she's been told to say. You know what the DW publicity people are like.

I will say this: I might die too if she doesn't come back. I love me a bit of Amy Pond.

"You know sometimes I have really brilliant ideas?"
"Yes..."
"Sorry. Look at me! I'm a target!"

That final montage (they love a good montage on DW) was horrible to watch. Very sad and very powerful and though TV tends to totally overdo their slow motion button, DW did it perfectly with the Doctor's feet struggling to get a grip on the floor as he's dragged to the Pandorica, Rory holding a dying Amy and River trapped inside an exploding TARDIS - it finished with the entire Who fandom screaming at the TV 'how on Earth are they going to get out of this one?'

It's going to be a long week.

What did you think? Thoughts/theories/ideas?

2010-06-19T04:37:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the distinct lack of blogs recently, but our internet has been rubbish since Wednesday. Mummsie rang the BT people this morning and it seems to be all sorted out now. So hello.

My exams are done. They seemed to go okay, I did as much preparation as I could have done so I can't blame myself for not being prepared. I don't want to go into too much detail but I got fairly good questions for all of them so I'm feeling pretty cool about it all. For now, anyway.

Yesterday, I went into London with Mum's friend Robert and we did a lot of shopping and I got my Leaver's Ball dress! Which is very exciting. I just need everything else now - shoes, accessories etc. After a busy day's walking and purchasing he revealed he'd booked seats at Vertigo 42, the top floor champagne bar at what was previously known as the Natwest Tower. And it was amazing. Like, from where we were sat we could see all the way to Hampstead Heath and beyond and the champagne cocktails were fantastic.

I could probably get used to living like this.

2010-06-10T12:18:00.000-07:00

People ask me, fairly often, if I miss playing football. And, in the light of the six-a-side last weekend and the forthcoming World Cup, my answer is yes, I miss it. In fact, I miss it a hell of a lot more than a lot of other things I've given up. There was (and is) something about it that's addictive. Perhaps it's the passion, or the skill of the players or that feeling when the score is at 1-1 and your magic winning shot curls its way into the back of the net. I don't know.

I really had some great times when I played. The people I met and the experiences all made up for the losses and in one case, the broken bones. Wearing number ten for St Albans City Youth was a great feeling, as was being the first girl to reach one hundred appearances, and winning Player of the Season.

And so, when England come out onto the pitch on Saturday evening, I shall be watching intently. And when the final is played whilst we're out in Corfu (the night before we come home, would you believe?) I shall hopefully be watching that as well.

Unf, those kits were a sexy shade of yellow. (Megan smashing a girl out of the way just out of shot).

2010-06-06T00:58:00.001-07:00

It is currently 8:58 on Sunday morning and seeing as my work for today has been called off I feel as though I should blog as I have nothing better to do. Okay.

1. Doctor Who last night was brilliant beyond words and quite frankly I'm not sure I'm going to be able to cope when the series finale roles around. Vincent and the Doctor was beautiful to watch and very, very sad. Tony Curran was excellent and Bill Nighy was fab especially during the bow tie exchange at the beginning. Bow ties are cool. Matt Smith and Karen Gillan were perfection once again, funny and entertaining and heartbreaking.

Next week looks interesting. I am looking forward to it for a reason that I found out about weeks ago and I haven't told anyone about but it's going to be GREAT. Trust me.

2. Ohh holy crap the Drama exam is on Wednesday blarghfhfhfhhahlkjdfh.

3. I'm having laptop problems again. I need a new battery and I went on the HP website but apparently they don't sell the part I need. As long as my laptop is plugged in, it's fine. I'm hoping we don't have a power cut any time soon or I'm screwed. I think I'll have to go to Mr Computer in town and have a word which is a pain and will most likely cost me a million pounds.

THE WORLD CUP STARTS ON FRIDAY AND I AM SO EXCITED! YESSSSSS!

2010-06-02T06:27:00.000-07:00

Well, hey. Seeing as everyone seems to be doing it, this blog is an account of my revision that has been done and the revision that is yet to be done.

So I did Frankenstein first, figuring if I'm going to use it as my Section A English text then I should probably get to grips with the guy. I actually quite enjoyed reading the book. It's very good. Unfortunately, whilst reading it, many many easy comparisons with Paradise Lost and Macbeth began to scream out of the pages at me, like that shouty book in the first Harry Potter film.

Then I moved on to Lysistrata. I did all the questions on the sheet Mrs Horn gave us, plus an extra Section A. I feel okay about it, it's mostly blagging anyway. It doesn't matter what the question says because when it comes down to it, you can apply pretty much any rehearsal technique to your exercises if you can make it seem appropriate to your concept. So I'm fairly okay with that.

And today I finished my Twelfth Night revision, which means doing all the questions Rolo gave us even though half of them made no sense. But yes, I feel fairly confident with those as well and my notes seem pretty reliable so that's confidence boosting.

I'll start doing Media tomorrow because I haven't even started looking at my folder yet. My Section B is okay but needs a good day's worth of work and my Section A needs a serious amount of work as I've only done one mock of it in the lesson and that was about four weeks ago. Revision sessions next week, yay.

And that's that. Mum got me a Dracula York Notes in London today so I can do that after the Drama exam is over and inevitably end up using it as my Section A text as it's fresher in my mind. OH, BUMSY.

2010-05-29T03:48:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed a new blog layout. A radical change I think, but I was bored of white and green. Although they might not be as blatant, it may be perhaps the first of a few changes around here.

Last night I sort of picked my Leaver's Ball hair, the front half anyway, but my hairdresser and I agreed that we should have a trial run, so she's coming over in two weeks with armfuls of hair products and objects to experiment with. I should probably also try and work out what I'm doing makeup-wise as well, really, shouldn't I?

Grandma sent me a cheque to spend for hard-work with exams, but I don't really feel as though I've earned it yet so I'm putting it away until exams are over so that I can spend it and feel as though I deserve it. I have a couple of ideas, but nothing solid yet as to what it will be put towards.

The St Albans City 6-a-Side is coming up and I've been asked to work on the climbing wall again. I have no problems at all with this, I always have a good time and the weather is usually very good, plus, I'll be working Saturday and Sunday apparently so it'll give me lots of time to get out of the house and away from revision. Despite the fact it's on the weekend before my drama exam (blarghehsdkjflaskfj).

Doctor Who tonight, wheee!

2010-05-26T11:27:00.000-07:00

Revision is really difficult. It's not as easy as they make it out to be, those Rory Gilmores and Hermione Grangers. Damn them. So I've moved on to Lysistrata, and I'll be doing that for the rest of the week, and then in half term I'll somehow fit some Twelfth Night in as well. I still have to read Dracula, don't I? I don't know how much longer I can put that off without a York Notes. I'm pretty confident on Macbeth though, and Paradise Lost was never going to be a piece of pie was it?

Drama drama drama. What a kerfuffle and a half you are. Thank God you're nearly over.

Also today, I went, albeit incredibly reluctantly, to the gym where I had a very strenuous work out and came home to find that all the water had been turned off in the house because we were having plumbing problems. These problems did not get sorted until a plumber arrived in the late afternoon to fix it up. I couldn't shower until it had been mended. Ergh, I know.

Revision is a bore, but what must be done must be done and I think that hopefully we'll all be thankful that we did some once results day rolls around.

2010-05-24T03:36:00.000-07:00

In light of Jess' Ashes to Ashes write-up, which you can find here, I feel compelled to write down a few of my own thoughts and opinions regarding the finale of what was undoubtedly one of the best television series' the BBC has produced for a number of years.

I'll admit, I didn't watch the first series when it was broadcast. I'd seen Life on Mars on DVD only after people had kept raving on about how good it was. I watched the first five or so minutes of the first episode of Ashes, and when Layton appeared in the back seat of Alex's car I jumped a foot out of my skin and dismissed it as a little too jumpy for my innocent nerves. What a mistake.

Thanks to Laura, and Jess and Doug, I was warmly invited to several 80s themed get-togethers in which several packets of garibaldis were digested and numerous litres of Tizer were consumed, and Ashes to Ashes was the show to keep us entertained. It really didn't take long for me to get hooked inside the world of 1980s Fenchurch East CID.

For me, the first series was excellent. Unsure of whether they were to have another series comissioned, the creators set about producing eight episodes of television gold and wrapping it all up in an explosive and emotional bundle at the end. Series two, I felt, wasn't as good. It was good, but not good, you know? I didn't like Martin Summers, but you weren't meant to anyway and throughout the series the relationships between Alex and Gene and Chris and Shaz really developed into something worth watching. When the final episode of S2 was screened, and that cliffhanger was broadcast, I was left wondering quite how I was going to manage waiting another year to find out what was really going on, and what the answers were.

And then series three rolled around, to much excitement from the aforementioned Ashes stans, promising to answer all the questions that bugged us and finally telling us who Gene Hunt really was. For the first part of the series, I did begin to tire of the constant appearances of the ghostly copper with no explanation or development as to how or why he's haunting Alex. But the Gene/Alex dynamic was fabulous and Keats gradually began to generate feelings of hate inside me for him. Discipline and complaints? An office "...hotter than a Mallorcan minge" as Ray put it? There was always something dodgy about him.

A two-part finale ended the series. Following the death of Sgt. Viv James, the team were in disarray and it seemed that Keats was winning in his attempts to turn Ray, Chris, Shaz and Alex against Gene. I read a great theory somewhere that the characters were following a 'Wizard of Oz' theme. Chris wanted intelligence, or a brain, Ray wanted a heart and a Shaz wanted courage. Alex wore red shoes, or ruby slippers throughout S3, and Gene was the wizard who could grant them their desires. This made sense.

I don't really have any strong religious beliefs. If there is a place the soul goes after death then I'm happy to believe that, and if that place is a police station governed by a mysoginistic, racist, arrogant yet strangely attractive and dynamic DCI, then that seems good to me. Of course, I'd have to become a police officer first, as it turned out that this police station is in fact a sort of purgatory for police officers who died with issues needing answers.

And Gene Hunt? Well. Watching as Alex dug up with her hands what was revealed as his shallow grave, meaning he was the ghostly copper, and that this purgatory was his domain was not only harrowingly upsetting but allowed a sense of relief to wash over me. Finally, we knew who Gene Hunt was. He'd been dead the whole time, creating this place where he guides police officers to their eventual 'Heaven'.

Remembering that this place isn't real caused Gene to regress into that young man state, where he couldn't even stand after being kicked about by Keats. Alex pleading through whispers for him to 'get up' really marked a change in their status. And Alex choosing to stay with Gene whilst the others followed Keats truly showed what their relationship was about.

I said to Caitlin earlier, the kiss was much anticipated and great to see, but the circumstances in which it took place made it less 'yay!' and more sobbing sadness. Alex volunteering to stay with Gene, so as to stop him being 'alone' was heartbreaking.

All in all, in my opinion, a perfect ending. Gene Hunt, is and always will be, the Guv.

2010-05-22T09:27:00.000-07:00

I have had such an awesome two days. Seriously.

Yesterday, I went into London with Dad and we did a tour of the Globe theatre and the exhibition inside. We were late to the tour, and a lady had to take us down the back way (ooerr) and made us join onto the group who had already been told about photos etc. so we missed nothing important. I learnt about prostitutes, a recurring theme when it comes to going out with my father. Inside the exhibition there was some helpful information on Middle Temple Hall and an account of a first viewing of Twelfth Night that will be helpful, as well as your clothes, props and stuff.

We were there to see Macbeth (you see, combining Drama and English revision in one day) and it was really, really good. I really enjoyed it and it was definiatly one of my favourite theatre-going experiences of the last few years. It was bloody and gory and funny and generally awesome.

We then went for dinner in one of my favourite spots to eat in London, the Strada facing St Paul's and the front steps. I like it because of a fandom reason that if I put on here, Mother will mutter 'oh, for God's sake' out loud. Sherlock Holmes 2009 is all I'll say.

Today I went to town with Mother and we went to Carluccio's for coffee and I had the thingy with three mugs, one each of coffee, chocolate and cream and a plate of biscuits between us. I got Neil a birthday card and some black jeans from New Look (the jeans were for me) after spotting Laura in the library. I went to get a Dracula York Notes from Waterstones, and saw Caitlin but you looked busy so I didn't want to disturb you. They didn't have the book, by the way. And then Mother took me to Clarks where she bought me the most gorgeous pair of boots I have ever seen in my entire life, and that I intend to wear even though it's hotter in England at the moment than it is in either LA or Johannesburg.

Ashes to Ashes was incredible on Friday night, and I'm so so so sad it's over. Laura and I (depressingly) ended up sobbing on msn whilst discussing it. Keats was freaky ass and bloody scary and Keeley Hawes killed me with her acting and the Gene Genie was perfection and, well, it's going to take a lot for the BBC to trump that hour of TV, let me tell you.

Tomorrow, I take Mutti to the Earthworks open day and attempt to open my Lysistrata, which has remained on the corner of my desk, ignored, since study leave began. I did finish Frankenstein today though, which is something.

EDIT: Oh, I forgot to say: I'VE DROPPED A JEANS SIZE! THAT'S 2 INCHES!

2010-05-20T08:29:00.000-07:00

Oh hey there. I haven't blogged since Saturday but then again I have been a busy little bee so excuse me. That was an unintentional rhyme.

So yeah. On/off since Saturday I've been feeling a little funny. What started on Saturday as a total lack of energy and a stomach ache and headache seemed to get better by the end of the weekend, but on Monday I stopped wearing a belt as I thought it might be a cause for the stomach ache and yesterday I was really tired all day. I went to town and literally could not summon the energy needed to get out of the car until I remembered why I was in town in the first place. I seem fine today though, so maybe it was just a bug or something. I have energy!

I bought Sherlock Holmes on DVD yesterday. It seems as though they're being weird about DVD distribution, as the two-disc version is available to buy in Holland and Poland and presumably northern Europe, but not in the UK. So mine is a one-disc, but I don't mind all that much. I re-watched it last night and it was fab-u-lous. It reminds me of Christmas which is weird, and shopping in Homebase and painting my bedroom and sleeping in the back room and rehearsals and all that stuff. Bizarro.

I've also been doing a close analysis of Frankenstein. I've done five chapters a day, except for today where I did ten as I won't have time tomorrow. I have quotes and all sorts. Unfortunately, the more I do, the more I realise it is a perfect comparitive text for Paradise Lost. I intend to do the same thing for Dracula, so we'll see how it goes. Essentially, I've actually been revising! Which is madness if you know me at all!

Tomorrow I am off to the Globe to see Macbeth and then it's the last ever Ashes to Ashes in the evening. What are we going to do without the Gene Genie?!

2010-05-15T07:03:00.000-07:00

I feel like pants this morning, and I have no idea why. The assumption that it was last night's chicken dinner was flattened when Neil said he wasn't feeling at all dodgy. I am feeling crap for no legitimate reason and it's not nice. Anyway, this isn't why I wanted to blog.

I finished school on Thursday. This hasn't quite sunk in yet, probably because I still have Media lessons for two weeks and revision sessions (lolol, my attendance to these is yet to be confirmed) and actual exams and then coming in next year for help with my personal statement and stuff.

But you know, no more actual Beaumont lessons in which I do an excited dance or shout 'DETONATE THE REALITY BOMB' or Laura jumps out of her bag pretending to be Dracula or Michael Ojo hurls himself head first into a stack of chairs. Sad times.

So we went for a Nandos to celebrate and it was good fun and typically yummy.

2010-05-10T08:16:00.000-07:00

Because double English isn't funny enough already:

Oh, the fun you can have with your brand new leavers hoodie.
I've had California Love by Tupac stuck in my head since yesterday, but I'm not complaining.

I'm going to see Neil's AL4 theatre thing tonight and planning that Drama question Rolo wanted us to do and had a massive paddy because none of us had done it ("You have no idea how hard the world is out there do you? You all live in your little St Albans bubbles and people are surpassing you into university as I speak") yadda yadda yadda. Apparently Sheps just had a massive go at the Drama staff and that's why they were in stupid stress mode.

Today's lunch talk consisted of breakfast time rat-beating, The Human Centipede movie and dodgy goings on involving bins and faces. Probably best not to ask.

2010-05-07T09:07:00.000-07:00

I decided against the gym today. I feel crap about it because this week has been abismal regime-wise and I really should try and find something that gives me a bit of motivation. I'm trying to convince myself that by doing what was essentially four days worth of exercise in two days, I finished yesterday but that's a stupid thing to say, especially as I went to Anne's last night and ate two Twirls and some Haribo and Kettle Chips and finished up Laura's noodles from the Chinese. NICE WORK, GENIE.

So I came home and on the way back my legs went a bit weird and wibbly and (trying not to be too graphic here) I had seriously bad cramps on top of that. Figuring it wouldn't be a good idea to attempt an hour's worth of pumping iron and running like a crazy lady, I just decided to have a bath and see how that worked. Very well, apparently. I found some olive oil bath lotion from L'Occitane and it made the tub smell good and my skin is now very soft and I rather wish I hadn't used the entire bottle. It was only a small one.

I've spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find a Prom dress. I found quite a nice, simple navy blue one that would double up for a gorgeous dinner dress for Corfu in Anthropologie for £88.00 and I figure that might fit snugly into Mother's budget. We'll see.

Also, I put on a pin-striped shirt this morning that I haven't dared put on since I realised that wearing it was causing serious button strainage issues three months ago, and it fitted perfectly. That was a nice little surprise moment. Needless to say, I took it off and stuck with the old t-shirt and cardigan combo that I'm favouring for smart-casual at the moment. Typico.

Chips for dinner (ahahaha - what weight loss regime?!) and Ashes to Ashes tonight and then bed.

(Btw, I don't know why I'm doing all these long posts, but it just seems logical to try and write a bit more like an adult.)

2010-05-07T08:31:00.000-07:00

34 Days Until The FIFA World Cup 2010 Kicks Off!

I am getting really quite excited. Here, have the official World Cup song.