Monday, September 29, 2008

Getting Snap Happy on Freshers Week

So, it's sunday night (or monday morning i suppose) at 1:15 am. im tired and worn out but not ill and ive had the best week in the world. and here are the highlights.


My stuff:Sunday night beach party:
Monday night embrace: Wednesday night bar crawl:

Thursday night kareoke: Friday night frshers mania:

Saturday night school disco:



















Wednesday, September 24, 2008

queues and other patheticness

i have spent most of today in a queue. and i am fed up. to the maximum. so was the guy next to me, i can only assume, as he was reading a dictionary. Anyway, i chose my modules and im actually doing more philosophy than psychology this term. The modules im doing are:

Philosophy of Religion.
Philosophy of the Mind, Brain and Personal Identity.
Sociology of Gender, Sexuality and Society.
Philosophical Matters of Life and Death.

and for anyone wondering freshers week is awesome. although tiredness mixed with PMT and being overburdened with things to do does result in sobing down the phone to laura at 2 in the morning. apparently.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Observations of the lone wanderer

Having attempted a shopping trip with my mum which turned out to be in part unproductive, I decided I'd go by myself to the dark realms of Slough and buy the rest of the things I need for university. By the end of the day I had half of what was on my list plus a dozen things not on my list which I certainly won't ever need.
At Brooke's recommendation, I venture to good old Wilkos to find a door wedge. In the nicest way possible, it seems to be that the one requirement to work in Wilkos is that you are an absolute neanderthal. (Ooh controversial!) I look for door wedges upstairs. Don't find them. I go downstairs, I ask: "where are the door wedges" followed by a five minute explanation of what a door wedge is. The shop assistant looks glaikid and woofed "DIY. Upstairs." So I went upstairs to find one. Again. 15 minutes looking later. I ask a less retarded shop assistant who informs me they are now down stairs with the back to college collection. So I head back down again. I then attempt to pay but was basically served by a monkey (double ooh). My suspicions that they are actually monkeys in disguise came when I looked over the cashiers shoulder to a note saying "remember to smile at the customer. Ask if they would like stamps or a bag for life. Be polite." This particular monkey was evidently illiterate as I didn't even get so much as an acknowledgement let alone a smile. My items were scanned at a rate of one item per century then a hand appears flapping under my nostril apparently for the money despite not being told how much I owed. A bit like how you're served in Greece.
I continue my lonely wanderings to where I encounter an accordion player. Accompanying his jolly tune is a little girl dancing along in an Irish jig/ Morris dance type fashion in front of him with a big toddler type grin. The man leans forward, takes one hand off the accordion and starts shooing the girl away. Actually saying "shoo" and flapping his hand in her face. Maybe it was a be there thing but it was the funniest be there things possibly ever.
Anyway now I have everything with me to take to uni including the kitchen sink (well, a plastic basin). I'm ready and roaring to go. With £0.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The song I'm obsessed with this week



Ain't Got No (I Got Life)

Ain't got no home, ain't got no shoes
Ain't got no money, ain't got no class
Ain't got no friends, ain't got no schoolin
Ain't got no worth, ain't got no job
Ain't got no mind

What have I got?
Why am I alive anyway?
Yeah, what have I got?
Nobody can take away

I got my hair, I got my head
I got my brains, I got my ears
I got my eyes, I got my nose
I got my mouth, I got my smile

* I got my tongue, I got my chin
I got my neck, I got my boobies
I got my heart, I got my soul
I got my back, I got my sex

Ain't got no father, ain't got no mother
Ain't got no children, ain't got no faith
Ain't got no earth, ain't got no water
Ain't got no ticket, ain't got no token
Ain't got no love

What have I got?
Why am I alive anyway?
Yeah, what have I got?
Nobody can take away

I got my hair, I got my head
I got my brains, I got my ears
I got my eyes, I got my nose
I got my mouth, I got my smile

* I got my tongue, I got my chin
I got my neck, I got my boobies
I got my heart, I got my soul
I got my back, I got my sex

** I got my arms, I got my hands
I got my fingers, Got my legs
I got my feet, I got my toes
I got my liver, Got my blood

I've got life, I've got my freedom
I've got a lot

Sunday, September 14, 2008

But I'm only little!!

This time next week I'm actually going to be IN Sheffield, like actually there! After months of all my panicing and worrying and what ifs and now it's like 7 days away. Apart from my hall room being an absolute dive there is actually nothing I'm not excited about. Anyway, it won't be long before the flakily painted walls and prison style bed are buried in pink decor.

I'm currently trying to tidy my room. It's about as fun as it'll probably be unpacking it all again at the other end. In fact, the only task I can imagine being more horrendous is when I have to pack it all up at Christmas to bring it all back. I'm on about my 3rd pack, each time getting just that little bit more ruthless. Currently I have 1 box of tea and coffee and foody type stuff, 1 box of make up type stuff (about 3 times the size of the former box :S) 2 boxes of books and the like and about 10 boxes of clothes. :S My bedroom is a bombsite and I cba to actually do anymore. I've run out of boxes and I'm frankly too overwhelmed by the material sum of my 18 years.

This week is going to be so sad. I have to say goodbye to everyone and they say it's only til Christmas but I should think when I'm 3 hours away, in a scabby little room, up a hill, in an unfamiliar town, with a million boxes to unpack and no Jade 15 minutes away, it'll seem more like eternity till I see anyone again, not 3 months.

I sort of do want to leave home. It is more freedom but it's not exactly like I'm shackled down anyway so that's not exactly any bonus. I'm going to miss the familiarity of everything, like being able to go out in my car or bike and drive/cycle actually knowing where I am and where I'll end up if I turn left. I'll miss being able to text Jade and have her come over for a random cup of tea and useless chat. And I'll miss St Peters and all the people there. But I definitely won't be missing Newlands, certain people and certain memories that I'll always associate with Maidenhead. And I think my greatest fear (unfortuneatly one which inevitably will be realised) is that I'll come home and everything will have changed and people will be different and nothing will feel the same anymore. I think I can understand why people rarely go back to their home towns after uni.

Anyway, as per usual I am thinking far too much into the whole thing. As much fun as it can be to specualate over what might happen, it is only a week until I find out for myself and so I may as well just hang on and see.

Back to tidying....

Friday, September 12, 2008

I'm feeling all inspired...

I have to admit, I am fairly easily inspired. Pretty much every book I read sends me off wanting to write my own, every song I listen to makes me want to go and learn piano properly and every programme on TV makes me want to become an actress. But these sparks of inspiration don't go well with impatience and laziness and, unfortunately due to a high quantity of these in my personality composition, I just find myself with piles of half written "novels" and lyrics without music (so, er, poems) with the intention of one day actually making them into masterpieces. There is honestly no danger that I may be the next Enid Blyton, Madonna or Keira Knightley. In fact, it's a miracle my blog hasn't run dry and shrivelled up yet, it's almost lasted longer than my Bebo account. However, it's ok that I turn every brainchild into a fleeting fad because I've been thinking about 3 people who have enough go- getting to make up for my lack of contribution to the arts of this world. So seeing as I can't be bothered to go and keep trying to become the world's dancemat champion, I'll just sit here and tell you about them. Even though 2 of them are probably the only 2 people who actually read my blog anyway.

Brooke.

Sorry Brooke, but you should've seen that coming. I see Brooke as being very similar to the person I'd be if I actually did all the things I wanted to do. Apart from the fact she's read all the books I've been meaning to read, knows how to produce music on the computer (a skill I lost after the single materpiece my brother I produced for my GCSE music coursework) and can play the guitar to open mic standard, she whacked out The Balcony Club which is what actually started this whole blog whirring in my mind. If anyone I know now grows up to be famous, it will be Brooke. And I should probably take this moment to publicly apologise to Brooke for slowly stealing her identity as it is really from her influence I developed my love for indie music, decided to start blogging and through her shining example decided to be teetotal.
Anyway, see for yourself:

http://www.myspace.com/thebalconyclubmusic

Ok, the next person I feel slightly less odd gushing about, cos I know they won't be too modest to accept my compliments :P To back up this claim, I was moaning to her about how I was worried I wouldn't make friends at uni. Her reply: "Well, you probably will make friends cos your quite like me and I have loads of friends". *cueeyeroll*

Claire

Claire succeeded in this whole acting thing whereas I never even begun trying, despite being a slight drama queen. I was looking through old family photos and I come to an album called "Claire" (funnily enough). Inside, it's "Claire as a babe in babes in the wood", "Claire as Cinderella in year 6 panto", "Claire as lead role in Redroofs ballet play" etc etc. The closest you get of me in my (half of an) album is me as a 5 year old, wearing a leotard and looking gormless while the rest of the ballet class have pointed toes and extended arms. Anyway, back to Claire... on top of her theatrical side, she's also grade 8 in bassoon (which she went to grade 8 in within a year) and violin and some ridiculous high grade on the piano too. Not to mention she got 12 A*s for her GCSEs and 4 As at Alevel. Oh and not forgetting a first in her pharmacolgy degree. Which she did while intercalating during her medicine degree, meaning she'll be a doctor before I've even read the end of my current book. Added onto that, she has her own house, a side job as a nurse and she can even cook (albeit with a little help from Mr Foreman). She's been to as many countries as I have shopping centres, writes to me pretty much every week (and phones every minute) and is even a member of her church. Oh, where she plays her violin in the band. Anyway, it was her recent ambitions which, added onto Brooke's unveiling of The Balcony Club, made me write this blog. Because, this week she phones me: "Hi Fifi, guess what, I've started a counselling course so I can be trained in counselling. And next Wednesday I'm starting a street jazz class cos I'm doing so well on Weightwatchers, I want to keep it up."

And people wonder why I copy everything she ever does. Hasn't made me a brainiac, musical genius, friend machine yet though...

And lastly, I always take this person for granted then I realised the other day what a superwoman she is.

My mum

Why my mum is an inspiration:
  • she managed to raise 4 children, meaning she had a 0,2,4 and 6 year old all running amok at the same time and a quarter actually turned out normal (joke before my siblings disown me)
  • she quit her job to raise us but worked in oxfam as a volunteer, went back to work as a nursery assistant part time and now, 10ish years later is a deputy headteacher
  • she went to uni aged 17 and was a full time teacher by the time she was 20
  • she has more degrees then I do Alevels and can speak French (used to be fluent) as well as being a mathematician and scientist
  • she has a chapter published in a book (http://www.amazon.com/Scientists-Who-Believe-Their-Stories/dp/0802476341 just to really embarrass her and I will also take this moment to point out how shocked I was when I took this book off her bookshelf to read and found my own mother had written part of it. on asking her about it she goes "oh yea, that" ever so casually)
  • she used to sell dolls in a shop
  • she can knit without looking, sew to shop standard and she paints pictures (which inhabit an entire room in our house, but she doesnt like anyone to see them)
  • she can cook, but not only does she cook but she grows the ingredients in her allotment...
  • where she also keeps bees which she uses to make honey
  • she's also amazing at budgeting, tidying and cleaning and she's read the whole bible from beginning to end more times than I've opened mine (not literally but she knows every bit of bible trivia there is, I tested her with my bible trivia quiz book)
  • lots of other things i find inspiring about her but wouldnt air publicly as she's a private person and i respect that

She always reminds me of the wife in Proverbs 31:10-31.

Anyway, I shall again go, utilize my laziness and wallow a little bit more in my own inadequacy while my family and friends continue to succeed at life.*

The End.

*P.S. I don't mean that seriously before I get showered with pep talks. Maybe this time I'll actually be inspired enough to go and achieve something.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

So the world still exists then...

Like the rest of the world, or anyone with a half educated, news reading particle within their brain matter, I'm worryingly intrigued by the LHC experiment. I'll admit I actually waited with anticipation for today to see if the world did end, I thought it might actually be quite fun to be blasted into oblivion. I think everyone is fairly convinced though that we are still inhabiting our good old earth, we haven't been teleported to a parallel universe. Shame.


I am still frantically trying to get prepared for university but I'm being horrendously hindered by my laziness and internet addiction. Everytime I try and start tidying, I just get distracted.

Other non interesting news...
I'm itching like crazy cos of the stupid mozzie bites which is actually driving me crazy. I literally have over 30 bites.
I'm also frustrated cos there's a dance on the dance mat I just can't nail! I got from an E to a C but I'm still missing at least 11 arrows everytime. I've tried it half speed, with the beats clapped out for me and even without the music but my feet just won't go in the right places.
My "tan" is also peeling but (shh) it's ok cos I'm topping it up with gradual fake tan anyway.
My hip is in pain as I managed to walk into someone's wing mirror today. It was fairly comical as it was a proper posh car and I just barged right into it.
Also funny was me and Jade trying to buy a turnip. Does anyone even know what they look like? Try and imagine one. Go on, I dare you.
I am quite worryingly disturbed by my level of excitement over the new series of casualty. I'm gonna explode just waiting for it.
Anyway I'm off to watch The Sex Education Show cos it looks like a good old comic channel 4 doc...

Monday, September 08, 2008

What happens in Zante stays in Zante... unless I blog about it

I could write a massive long blog about what went on but instead I'll pick out some highlights...


Our free towels...

An unwelcome guest...

Our jiggy jiggies being poured...

Zante's shop mannequins... featuring on next seasons doctor who...

3 guys volunteer... all 3 are blindfolded... made to act out rude stuff... man takes off blindfold and realises the other 2 were told to stop and he'd been doing it all himself...
cheesy disco night...

the band on The Night when everyone got so hammered we ended up in an alleyway and got carried home by the reps (just to add, i personally was not carried)...

the crazy hats we found for neon nights... laura changed race...




the ice cream kit i was going to get as a present for jade before realising all the instructions were in greek...




Dick walked home alone and died... be Tom...be Harry... but beware... do NOT be like Dick...

And those, are some of the (mentionable) highlights of Zante.