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.

Adventures

One day, when I can drive and you can drive and we have a whole day to ourselves.

We're going to get in your little car and go on an adventure. I don't mid where we go as long as there is candyfloss when we get there, and we can play show tunes on the way.

Oh Norwich, how I love you.

I never want to leave Norwich - call me what you will but why leave when I love this lovely place?

Sitting in my little box on saturdays I can give the customers directions to just about anywhere, I am a tiny map of Norwich. And meeting all of my NYFC friends in the centre, we could hardly find a space on the streets where we couldn't hear music. Wether it be the slightly unnerving puppet man, or the wonderful middle eastern muic from outside the market - Norwich was alive with the sound of buskers like us. We were even interrupted by a medievel procession with recorders and drums, although they did stop for a little to watch us.

I know which deli does the best sandwiches, and which make thier soup fresh in the morning. I can tell you where to get the best latté in Norwich, and where's the best place to drink it. I can tell you where you can get a cup of spiced apple and raspberry juice before wandering through the cobbled twisty streets and watching the sun go down behind the cathedral whilst hurried people pass, wrapped in coats and scarves, rubbing thier hands together.

My friends are there, my job, my school, George.
Sure, it's nice to go somewhere new, but if you're happy just where you are - there's just no sense in not making it the place you always come back to.

Stress level : High

I do not have a costume for Robyn's birthday. I wish to utilise my yellow tights that I only bought for a halloween party anyway. They were expensive! Pfft.

So, it was non-school uniform today, which always confuses me. I don't know who I can and can't growl at for walking too slowly down the wind tunnel when i'm trying to get to biology. Not that I did anything in biology, but the intention was there. I was actually sad enough to not get up to do some very importnant tasks because I had one of the awesome chools that would definately be pinched if I got up. I just sat and counted change and ate satsumas.

No eating in the lab.

So I spent my lunchtime removing hair from various gentlemen in the EX 6th form common room. I ripped wax strips off 2 year 11 boys, Mr. Everett (oh sweet revenge) and Mr. Harrison - who didn't seem phased. Regular waxer methinks. I then took over the shaving of Jem's head, which was quite fun. Especially seeing how much I hated those stupid sideburns he's been sporting for weeks.

Tell you what though, if anybody comes to me after tomorrow asking for a hoody I shall have them skewered. So many 6th formers - most likely the ones that skip assembly - have not told me if they want a damn hoody. I'm getting sick of them. Pfft. You're not getting one. So there.

Here are your points for consideration of the day.

• Why does rootbeer have a mouthwash-y aftertaste?
• How do you get satsuma oil off your jeans?
• Why do people think that if they have a certain ritual for sctraching the panels off a scratchcard they're more likely to win?
• When did facebook become an absolutely essential service?

I have been informed

that George does not have the answers, merely stupid questions of his own.

Ee Larv 'im. x

So i've been thinking...

How long does it take for a raindrop to get from cloud to floor? How far has it travelled? Did it collide with another raindrop on the way down to make an even bigger one?

Maybe make one of those huge fat ones that always goes in your eye or down your neck - not at all pleasant.

And now i'm sat here eating peas I wonder, how long has this pea been a pea? At what point is it even called a pea? It had to come from a pod yes? How long did that take? And why is it so yummy...?

Maybe George Kwiatkowski will have the answers to these and so many more of my pointless questions...

Well at least it's half finished.

My essay, I have a title, I have 3 non-sensical rambling paragraphs but no point, no conclusion and no analysis. The end is not in sight. This means no gospel meeting, no Norwich, no George.

Drat.

On the plus side, I've finished season one of House. I'm hooked. Season two please Georgey?