Cuddle Weather

Sometimes I need to remember that although we are not together anymore, we're still under the same sky. Just because you are out of arms reach does not mean you're not still under my skin, coursing through my veins. I haven't talked to you today, but you'll call. I know you'll call.

At least I didn't have to say goodbye.

Short addendum

I still exist, i'm just in India for a bit.

Pre-knitting season preparations

I have decided, in one of my more creative moods, to start a proper collection of patterns. Nice ones, not all jumpers and hats and scarves. I have recently discovered Alan Dart's collections which are gorgeous if not a little tricky...

My cut-throat ebaying should secure me a sizeable collection alongside much pleading on the knitting network.

I have a feeling you'll be reading some frustrated "how-the-hell-does-this-work!" posts with some half finished project pictures soon :)

The curse of genetics

There is no way of being "un-related" to your immediate family.

This could be my phd in the making.

Um, that's not a synonym.

So, my friends let me down. Again.

I know this counts as venting, it counts because it's been more than a month since I posted on here. I don't care. I don't get to go on my only holiday of the year because people who are not meant to let me down, did just that - and only one of them said "I'm sorry."

Also, on a nicer note - my room smells like chocolate cheesecake brownies and tomorrow I'm having squid. My cocktail books came today and hopefully my fimo will come tomorrow so I can make a low-grade replica of the ring I left on the train. My favourite ring. The beautiful £25 ring that I adored, cannot find anywhere on the internet and will never see again. I am an idiot.

I get to go into town tomorrow and walk the 8minute walk to Georgey's, knock on his door till he gets out of bed and lets me in then he'll make me cheese on toast (he'll eat the cheese before it's toasted) and we'll cuddle up on the couch and watch top gear reruns. I might bring breakfast pudding. George told me he'd drive all the way to Wales to make me happy, which is why we're going to London to see Wicked instead and stay in a posh hotel :)

But! He, and my best friend are going away this week, for 2 weeks. George to Malaysia and Rachel to Michigan. I will miss them in equal measures in different ways. I don't even know where Malaysia is but it's 11hours on the plane. That's far too far away.

I'm going to get back to season 3 of The West Wing now, it's disk 5 and I want to get hold of the other 4 seasons before summer so I don't have to go too long without seeing what happens next (Little is lending.)

Tschuss.

"I had a dream...

I dreamed it for you. Well someone tell me when is it my turn, don't I get a dream for myself. Get off of my runway."

Today, no, this week, this month and this year have been the worst 6months of the making of my future.

Ask me what I wanted to be 6 months ago and i'd have given you the whole 5yr plan. The grades, the summer, the degree, the speciality, the job, the flat, the car. Then, well, you know the rest. Here I am signing on at the job centre for fifty quid a week and living at home with all my friends going away to make something of all this education we'd worked so hard on together.

I feel cheated. Cheated out of my own life.

Umm?

I'm still not going to university...

I don't know if i'm ok with that.

I've got a soul to feed.

I believe that right now, revising like there's nothing else to do in the world is damaging to my internal balances.

It's ok just to stop, put the pens down, turn the book over, sit back and turn the music up. Go and make a cup of tea, stack up some jaffa cakes and just come back to it in 10minutes.

You won't be able to sit in an exam and do well if you already destroyed your soul working for it 6weeks before it's due to happen.

Mr. Wainwright, you are just the right amount of chilled for such a break.

Dear Sarah.

Stop faffing about in the garden and do your PE coursework.

Stupid girl.

Go f**k yourself Mario.

Your restaurant is a dump and your manners stink. You treat me like shit then you have the audacity to send a snotty email insulting my school?! Giant tit.

Anyway. Now that's out of my system.

Fajeaster was yummy :) Warwick was pretty and pizza express throw pizzas alot. That sums up my easter so far apart from my lovely anniversary yesterday. We went to wagamamas and I got spoiled rotten. Yumyumyum.

Tomorrow I continue with my vegetable patch project that at the moment mainly consists of me pulling up the lawn. Come summer I will be reaping the sweet harvest of self sufficiency and seeds from 1994.

Stupid cat.

There's something vaguely soul destroying about listening to your poor skinny little cat crying under a table but if she refuses to eat for herself she'll just have to put up with being trapped between my knees having the cat sludge squirted in her mouth.

That's just how it works cat.

Well of course it's worrying.

I have the house to myself for the next 3 days.

I must remember to do a myriad of important things. First and foremost, play doctors and nurse (and vets?) with the cat. She will not eat of her own accord neither will she drink so the only solution is to shove cat medicine down her throat and occasionaly make up a soup of greybrown cat sludge and force feed her that as well. She hates me, I can see it in her eyes.

Also, the fish need feeding. But they don't need it forcing down thier throats. Do fish even have throats? Well that interesting.

Ummm, it's raining, so my amazing gardening has ground (lol, gettit) to a halt. So I shall have to continue discovering potatoes all along the back fence and jumping up and down in the garden waste bin tomorrow. Also, you can't mow wet grass - which I discovered after overloading the motor and having it cut out on me.

What on earth am I supposed to do now? I feel like an elderly retired person with only her moody cat for company. Although if I ever turn into one of those old people who actually make lengthy conversation about the fact that Bungay bus shelter now has perspex sides I will have to do the world a favour and jump off a very tall building, because honest to God I could have screamed after listening to those 3 old Bungalites going on and on and on about it. You'd think there were more interesting things in the world to talk about than perspex. Really.

I'm going to go cook for one now. And be spinsterish. For goodness sake somebody ring me.

An Education.

Here are some things I have learnt today.

You can't pick up the phone just after waking up and NOT sound like a 80yr old man. This was upsetting when I discovered it in the middle of my lie in. I seriously must change my ringtone to something other than very loud carribean steel drums.

Once you've overfilled the washing machine with fabric softener, you can't get it back out of the freaking drawer. Everything smells very very very comfort-y now.

You can't microwave chicken dippers.

Cats won't eat shrivelled, burnt chicken dippers.

Birds won't either.

We don't have a bike pump in our house, or our garage. Neither does Simon next door, or Robert next door to him, or Pauline next door to him.

You can ride a bike with flat tires.

You can't balance hot banana bread on your lap whilst cycling on flat tires.

You can't buy a guardian after 10am

You can buy The Times.

Don't think you're being selfless by giving the lad at the bus stop 50p for the fare. According to the loud and obnoxious conversation he was having with "Tev" on the phone, he'd spent all his money on mephodrone on Tuesday night. Tool.

Babies think it's ok to yell on buses, and some mothers should be slapped.

Tom makes an ok cuppa.

Strawberry cider is nice-ish.

I cook a good bolognaise.

Ipods are shit.

So that's about it - note the absense of any life changing lessons in there? Don't do mephs kids. You won't have enough for the bus 3 days later.

To do and done. Hurrah!

Still to do -

• Washing up (it's mother's day, this is a given.)
• Ironing - the crumpled look is out this spring.
• Homework - I haven't checked yet, but bets are I have some.
• 2 sleeves of one very overdue cardigan.

DONE -

• Unpacked that bloody suitcase that's been loitering in my bedroom since New York.
• Hoovered the bits of pringle off the floor from girls night
• Tidied everything up in here, there is a floor - who'd have known?

Happy Mum's day Mum, what a lovely mum I do have.

Yeh I know.

Raspberry Sambuca

How I love you so.

Just what you need to wash down the other assorted shots of whatever the hell we were buying last night :)

A day late

getting my results. I'm off ill today, though i'm not technically ill. I was ill yesterday - today I just have a lump on my head and a headache. But that's not important.

I don't think i'm nervous about what is in the envelope - I already know my a-level results dont matter. Though it's nice to do well at at least one thing I try.

Also, after not being able to go to the blood donation session because it was all fully booked with Aviva staff the other day, a few of us in the canteen were talking about becoming donors and I was quite suprised to hear that everyone at the table would be willing to take part. Looking at the site I found out that you can organise sessions at your uni/college so I got onto them and after asking some obscure questions about myself and Notre Dame they said they'd be in touch with some more details. I'll make sure to go to 6th form council tomorrow to pitch it to Everett etc. Seeing as you have to be 17+ to donate, it would only be 6th form and staff involved. I think it's a good idea though - and with it being not-quite-exams season, it's as good a time as any to do it.

We'll see.

My last picture of progress.

My last ever school report. Handed to me this morning in the customary brown envelope, and paying my usual regard to the address on the front I had a look. Same old. Only this time, I am well aware that that piece of paper could say anything - and it would mean the same to me.

I've applied for a diploma - I only need GCSEs to get onto it. So my 3 predicted Bs can go take a running jump.

18 days left to wait - had an email today from the UEA informing me that they have recieved my 2nd application and it is being considered. But now I'm worrying that it's 21 days from receipt of said application and not the UCAS clicking moment.

I misspelled "synergy" 3 times today, then decided it didn't fit into my essay very nicely and just scrubbed it out. I need some better words in my vocab bank. I'm determined that this essay will be eloquent and informative with just the right amount of analysis.

Perhaps i'll stick the Glee soundtrack on whilst I do it :)

I don't live here.

I'm not meeting Hatti and Rachel till 3ish4ish so George has gone to his dad's and left me at his to watch top gear and eat ice cream :)

It's girls night tonight, last night was me trawling through university websites looking for somehwere to go next year. I had my options narrowed down to Canterbury Christ Church (but i'd have to go to the chatham campus and study 24miles from London - which I dodn't want to do very much.) Second was City University in London - busy, expensive, exciting London. Or the UEA. The UEA course isn't quite the one I was hoping for - adult nursing as opposed to child nursing. But as past experience has shown - I can't get into child nursing. So i'll get there, get going, and see if I can sidle on over to child nursing after I get there.

Now I have to wait 21 days for a yeh or a nah.

So this morning, caramel chew chew for breakfast, house to ourselves, George and I spent the morning on the sofa watching Saturday kitchen. It's a good job I decided that quarter to 12 was a good time to get dressed, because about 10minutes later there's a knock at the door. George had only just got out of the shower and opening his own door would have been wildly inappropriate, so I skipped past him and ran downstairs. It was Mr. Little. Oh the weirdness.
After brief and slightly awkward conversation, he left.

So now i'm sat on my own, watching top gear and blogging. Another hour and a half till I can go out and do fun things. Must remember to pick up some wine for tonight :)

I'd like to make it known.

That I am not above eating the bits of cake that get stuck to the tin.

A hint of spring.

I sat at work and watched it rain today, hours and hours of rain until finally the clouds drifted off and it was sunny again :)

Oh I do love the sunshine.

Stars & Stripes

Discovering a new city is like reading a book you've never read before. It can be daunting at first, you don't know what to expect, and although the cover might give you a clue - you simply cannot guess at the detail that each page will go into. New York is a huge book, full of new colours, lights, sounds and smells. It was incredible there - I didn't know which way to look as I wandered through the steets. From 42nd to Chinatown, the subway hurtling beneath from Grand Central to Soho. Every different chapter of the city revealing a new side just waiting to be explored.

You can't plan too carefully, you never know what will catch your eye and just eat your time. To constrain yourself would be to deny yourself the curiosity that New York thrives on. Being based in Manhattan we had the run of the city, the best little delis and cafés just around the corner for breakfast together, and not too far to walk from Grand Central as midnight crept up on us - we had a curfew of course. There was something for everyone within minutes of travel wether it needed a comfy pair of shoes or a metro card and a map. For the shopping minded, Soho and Times square heaved with shops of all varieties. For the boho romantics, central park was scenic and serene, for the history buffs - the architecture. I could take my pick between the lot.

You won't know what it feels like to see this place from 67 storeys up unless you go there, you won't know the smell of the subway unless you stand on a grate in the street, and you won't know what it's like to fall asleep to the sound of the city that never sleeps, unless you go there, breathe it, live it and just try and soak up as much as you can. It's a beautiful city. Go see.

Chilly fingers

I got home at 2 today after missing the bus by a matter of seconds and having to potter home in the snow (snow?! why?!) in my stupidly optimistic tights and pumps - both of which got thoroughly soaked after about a mile.
I let myself in only to be mauled by my starving (yeh right.) cat who went so far as to headbutt me in the ear as I was picking up the post.
Ami got a boden catalogue and I was determined to find something I wanted but it's all super expensive.

So yeh, fed cat, moaned to cat about how horrid the year 12 politics students were this morning and how i'm going to have to mess about sorting out my ema for that - even though all we did was sit there and scowl whilst an army of 16yr old tories yelled at us. We just weren't in the mood for a bunch of jumped up tarts acting like they were better than us, we caved, it was a welcome defeat. We shall spend our week long holiday in New York feeling loftily superior to them all whilst eating peanut butter m&ms and drinking kool-ade. Mwaha.

Is it a waste of a day if I come home and change into my boyfriend's pyjama pants and sit infront of the (fake) fire watching friends? In my defence they're really warm...

So, parent's evening...

was ok - I think?

I'm one of those middle of the roaders, the unextraordinary student who is nice tot teach but can't write an exam to save her life. I can live with that I guess. Mum doesn't seem fussed - she even got me a maccy's apple pie and a party dress after.

I don't know if I like the dress anymore but the pie was good. There's a definate correlation between my love of foods like said pie, and the way a perfectly nice dress becomes hideous when in contact with me. Pudgepudge.

Todo list for the rest of the week -

• Find a new favourite food that is less than 100% fat.
• Ban myself from ebay. And shopping. Unless I find a party dress that doesnt make me look like a giant, flightless sausage roll.
• Get on the exercise bike and reverse the effects of the pity pie.
• Fill empty wardrobe with current "carpet-clothes" that have engulfed my bedroom floor.
• See Avatar in 3D (popcorn is a maybe-not).
• Book dates for fun filled, friendy/coupley getaway to Wales and buy large jug to contain our yummo cocktails.
• Find recipes for yummo cocktails.

I also feel like some list making for America is fast approaching - as much as I love a good list, I don't know what on earth i'm going to bring. I've never had to consider weight limits before. Suddenly that emergency 10ltr bottle of shampoo and the 13 different pairs of shoes seem unnecassary and bulky. And I certainly wont have room for luxuries like my super duper lee stafford hair drier and paddle brush. Thank goodness that my new nifty mini straighteners are perfect for such ruthless packing restrictions - and with a haircut booked for wednesday, even I shall be a fraction lighter upon departure.

Must note, America is not going to be the sunbathed buzzing city that I have come acustomed to on friends and house and will and grace - no, this is more like the day after tomorrow where snow falls 10ft thick and uncovered flashes of skin will soon be frostbitten and useless.
Well of course i'm exaggerating, but it will be -5. That's pretty darn cold. Thick socks and triple layers!

I must go to bed - every night this week has been a stop up. I'm getting worse, there's always one more thing to do, or just another episode of how I met your mother to catch up on. Not to mention not getting home till gone 8pm 2 nights running now - it throws my routine right out. I've hardly even seen my gorgeous boyfriend since the weekend and now I won't see him till Sunday. And even then we don't get a lie in...

Just friday, then work, then my lovely free Sunday. No work, no school, no early start. Hello to the undisturbed lie in (compromised by the likelihood of either of my siblings using the phone, which plays carribean music into my room, or by either of them deciding they definately need to come looking for stuff in my room at that exact moment. Trust me, they will be pelted with anything to hand.) Yes, Sunday, you are my goal. I must reach you in order to end my week not being miserable about not having any offers, or not doing very well at school, or not having a black pen that WORKS. Sunday, you are my everest.

Goodnight, thursday - see you next week.

FAO - The World

Dear World.

Kindly shut up about snow and ice and get a bit warmer so I don't have to wear a huge coat and boots all day, every day. While you're at it, stop raining on me - it wrecks my hair and gets my books soggy.

Stop asking me about hoodies, and meetings and essays and pe and exams and revision because they're all stupid, I hate them all and I'm rubbish at them.

If you could arrange for a miracle in the form of me actually getting an offer, getting half decent grades, passing 6th form and going to university (we'll discuss passing my degree later) I'd be much obliged.

Until then, kindly piss off and leave me alone to sulk in my uselessness and drink tea.

It's my favourite kind of rain.

The frozen, powdery kind. No, I lie, summer thunderstorms are prolly my favourite, but there is no dispute over the sheer beauty of a snow covered Norfolk.

It was this morning when I loved it the most. sure, I had to get out of bed and go to work at 8am, but when I got out of the house and padded my way down that little road. My footprints were the first of the day, they made that wonderful squashing noise that only untrodden snow can make. And it wasn't quite day yet, it was morning, dawn, there were thick, dark, snow clouds throwing a fine covering of snow at me, and when it wasn't too windy for it to fall straight, you couldn't even see to the other side of the street through it.
And it's silent.
You can't hear snow falling, it just does, and it mutes everything it covers, snowy roads are so quiet, even with cars struggling to hold onto them and crawling at 3mph in 4th gear down them, it just sounds like someone walking on a duvet. It's brilliant.

I've had fun with my snow days, guilty kinda, "I-should-be-revising-not-making-snowmen" fun, but more fun then I would have had worrying about my impending failure at Notre Dame.

Roll on Monday.