It's Tuesday already.
It's nearly 2 on Tuesday.
I've had a hair cut.
It's not too different.
I love this sunny weather.
I made a mistake taking Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince with me to read at the hairdressers.
It just makes me want to read them all.
When I know reality calls for me to learn quotations.
Reality today consisted of Omegle and the Inbetweeners.
Urgh.
Must get work done.
BYE
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Monday, 6 April 2009
Hmmm.
Hard work is difficult to start.
I woke up early today and did some reading.
Then some internet.
It's now 10:18.
I've decided to type up some more book titles and tidy a bit before I do any work.
First I MUST send Alex those swirls.
That's sent.
Right, a few days ago I decided that I should go through my drafts in my phone, type them up and explain them.
It'll be a place for me to remember them in more detail and I can then delete them out of my phone.
They might also be fairly interesting and or amusing if only for me.
The first is "Bag of ferrets fighting"
This is in reference to Guiders, you know, the huge ones with kankles.
When they walk their bums look like a "bag of ferrets fighting", an apt description I heard in a guiding story over a year ago and loved so much I drafted it.
The second is merely the word "Cremaster", the name of a piece of art I read about but also the technical term for the muscle that controls the lowering and raising of the testicles.
The third - "Michael James Vandergoot 4th".
Steph went out with the 3rd I think, she was telling of how scared she would be to hypothetically spawn a child with the name.
Fourth is a name and website, "Johnhinde.com voodoo dolls".
When I was on Outward Bound over the summer we visited Pooley Bridge on our day out.
In the post officey shop they had some of these voodoo doll on sale.
They were quite cool so I decided to keep a note of them and look into them when I got home.
8 months later... I cannot seem to access his website.
:(
Fifth - "Gramoto; greek f word x" Bojan's word of wisdom.
Need I explain further.
Sixth - "How you spent that dash"
This was the poem that was read to us on the last night at OBU after we had spent 3 weeks together learning and developing having good and bad and generally knackering times.
I read of a man who stood to speak,
At the funeral of a friend,
He referred to the dates on his tombstone,
From the beginning … to the end.
He noted that first came his date of birth,
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all,
Was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time,
That he spent alive on earth,
And now only those who loved him,
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
The cars… the house.. The cash,
What matters is how we live and love,
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard,
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough,
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand,
The way other people feel,
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more,
And love the people in our lives,
Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash,
Might only last a little while.
So, when you eulogy’s being read,
With your life’s actions to rehash,
Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?
Copyrighted 1998 by Linda Ellis
It's lovely isn't it?
Seventh - "We are looping sequences of chemical conversions, acting ourselves converted. We are twists of genes acting ourselves twisted; we are wicks of burning neuroses acting ourselves wicked. And nothing to be done about it." This is from the sequel to Wicked, Son of a Witch. I liked it. It just seemed sort of poetic.
Eighth - "Esser. We can work this out. You got me in a headlock"
I can only imagine that this is a band I saw. I liked their song.
Ninth - "Geek pact. Harry Potter"
I wrote about this the other day, it's from our day at the Sage
Tenth - "Skins you like a cucumber"
This is from one of those moments when you seriously question society.
I was walking across the yard to the sixth form block and a child was dribbling a tennis ball nearby, just before he pelted it to his friend I heard him mutter this.
Odd indeed.
Eleventh - "Van Gough chopped his knob off"
I've already blogged about this too.
Twelfth - "Time flies when you've got your head in someone's crotch"
Daniel and Coxy hilarity.
Thirteenth - "Peter Pan fluffy in the mouth. Mashed potato"
You know those moments when you say something and then instantly regret it because what you said was absolute gibberish. Poor Daniel will regret saying "Peter Pan fluffy in the mouth" for a very long time. I do believe it is a fair few years since he first said it. Oh dear.
Fourteenth - Omnomnom. Against a wall?"
Despite this being the most recent I have very little idea what it refers to.
I know the first bit is the Grand National. The second is anybody's guess.
That's it.
For the rest of the day I plan to get work done so there will be little to blog about.
Hmmm.
Bye then, till tomorrow.
I woke up early today and did some reading.
Then some internet.
It's now 10:18.
I've decided to type up some more book titles and tidy a bit before I do any work.
First I MUST send Alex those swirls.
That's sent.
Right, a few days ago I decided that I should go through my drafts in my phone, type them up and explain them.
It'll be a place for me to remember them in more detail and I can then delete them out of my phone.
They might also be fairly interesting and or amusing if only for me.
The first is "Bag of ferrets fighting"
This is in reference to Guiders, you know, the huge ones with kankles.
When they walk their bums look like a "bag of ferrets fighting", an apt description I heard in a guiding story over a year ago and loved so much I drafted it.
The second is merely the word "Cremaster", the name of a piece of art I read about but also the technical term for the muscle that controls the lowering and raising of the testicles.
The third - "Michael James Vandergoot 4th".
Steph went out with the 3rd I think, she was telling of how scared she would be to hypothetically spawn a child with the name.
Fourth is a name and website, "Johnhinde.com voodoo dolls".
When I was on Outward Bound over the summer we visited Pooley Bridge on our day out.
In the post officey shop they had some of these voodoo doll on sale.
They were quite cool so I decided to keep a note of them and look into them when I got home.
8 months later... I cannot seem to access his website.
:(
Fifth - "Gramoto; greek f word x" Bojan's word of wisdom.
Need I explain further.
Sixth - "How you spent that dash"
This was the poem that was read to us on the last night at OBU after we had spent 3 weeks together learning and developing having good and bad and generally knackering times.
I read of a man who stood to speak,
At the funeral of a friend,
He referred to the dates on his tombstone,
From the beginning … to the end.
He noted that first came his date of birth,
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all,
Was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time,
That he spent alive on earth,
And now only those who loved him,
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
The cars… the house.. The cash,
What matters is how we live and love,
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard,
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough,
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand,
The way other people feel,
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more,
And love the people in our lives,
Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash,
Might only last a little while.
So, when you eulogy’s being read,
With your life’s actions to rehash,
Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?
Copyrighted 1998 by Linda Ellis
It's lovely isn't it?
Seventh - "We are looping sequences of chemical conversions, acting ourselves converted. We are twists of genes acting ourselves twisted; we are wicks of burning neuroses acting ourselves wicked. And nothing to be done about it." This is from the sequel to Wicked, Son of a Witch. I liked it. It just seemed sort of poetic.
Eighth - "Esser. We can work this out. You got me in a headlock"
I can only imagine that this is a band I saw. I liked their song.
Ninth - "Geek pact. Harry Potter"
I wrote about this the other day, it's from our day at the Sage
Tenth - "Skins you like a cucumber"
This is from one of those moments when you seriously question society.
I was walking across the yard to the sixth form block and a child was dribbling a tennis ball nearby, just before he pelted it to his friend I heard him mutter this.
Odd indeed.
Eleventh - "Van Gough chopped his knob off"
I've already blogged about this too.
Twelfth - "Time flies when you've got your head in someone's crotch"
Daniel and Coxy hilarity.
Thirteenth - "Peter Pan fluffy in the mouth. Mashed potato"
You know those moments when you say something and then instantly regret it because what you said was absolute gibberish. Poor Daniel will regret saying "Peter Pan fluffy in the mouth" for a very long time. I do believe it is a fair few years since he first said it. Oh dear.
Fourteenth - Omnomnom. Against a wall?"
Despite this being the most recent I have very little idea what it refers to.
I know the first bit is the Grand National. The second is anybody's guess.
That's it.
For the rest of the day I plan to get work done so there will be little to blog about.
Hmmm.
Bye then, till tomorrow.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Harping on and on
Sorry that I keep mentioning my hard drive.
But it has taken up a large portion of my thoughts recently.
I was clearing though old school documents today and found this that I wrote when I was in year 9.
It is VERY clear that I had been reading a lot of scary short stories at the time.
The Assassin.
She perched precariously on the three-legged stool, which was slowly sinking into the sodden earth, and pulled her hood further down, over her forehead. From a distance she blended in perfectly with the murky green grass. She pulled one of her boots from the ground and crossed and uncrossed her legs impatiently. The once lush green turf had slowly morphed into a muddy lake. Her startling blue eyes peered out from under finely shaped auburn eyebrows, her face was calm and serene, only her never blinking eyes portrayed the determination and hatred that was gathering inside her, like the storm clouds above. Not long now, she thought. Through the muggy air drifted the all knowing sent of death.
The clouds above deepened as behind them the sun, whose constant brightness was long forgotten in the constant downpour, began its final farewell. A few stray rays of magenta light broke through a slit in the unending carpet, and after forcing through the towering firs, lit up the abandoned barn with the burning intensity of real flames. The dry stone wall over the road caught a small amount of these snatches of sun and showed the raindrops shining on the mossy surface. Like an old mans bones the gate creaked as the wind hustled past, the lamp above flickered into life.
The rain petered out into as fine misty drizzle and a car, not so different to the colour of the weather, drew up the drive and came to an abrupt halt. Out of it stepped a woman, you know the sort, tall and blonde with a fine figure. She crunched up the pebbled drive, cursing as the rain curled her hair, and stepped into the sphere of orange light that surrounded the towering lamp. It lit up her perfectly chiselled face. She shivered, it may have been the cold; also a warning, and then pulled her fashionable coat further over her chest in an attempt to stay warm. She reached for the bell and the assassin realised, now or never.
Weeks of sneaking out, with the rifle, when he thought she was learning Spanish. Going down to the park each week to shoot the clay pigeons, practicing, perfecting till she was confident and ready. All the time leaving him and that woman together. It all boils down to these few seconds. This will teach him, she thought, what a fool he has been. Without a flutter of hesitation her finger found the trigger, and squeezed. The gun jumped. But she had calculated perfectly and the bulled hit the target. The body’s life drained visibly away as a fount of blood burst from her. She slumped to the ground and emitted a faint thud.
The assassin stood, leaving her belongings behind a small shrub, where she could return for them later. Taking only the rifle she walked, tripping slightly on invisible tussocks of grass she picked her way down the slope to the house. The same scene as usual met her gaze, only the victim’s body, still with a look of surprise stamped on her features, was out of place. She swatted at the moths that hovered around the flickering lamp, and caught one with the back of her hand, the life left it with such ease, she had become good at this, a killing machine. Soon her husband would be investigating to see where his girl was. What a surprise it would be to him when he opens the door, not to his lover, but to his wife, pointing his own rifle into his own startled eyes. A smirk breached the corner of her mouth, but she quickly hid it. She wanted to remain emotionless, which was easy, apart from the triumph reflected in her eyes.
It was probably the best thing I'd written up to that point in my life, I've never really been that good at English Language, I much preferred ripping apart the writing of others instead!
Right now I'm listening to Jon Richardson and deciding what to wear while I do a customary holiday floor clear.
Phwoar, Captain Jack on my calendar :D
The Buttercup Syrup cough sweets are FOUL.
I finished my Nerdfighter shoes.
Leaving only a small space for the future.
If you click on it you'll get A3 detail!
Right.
That is that done.
I want my computer off.
BAI
"the fhumngj mjku threy fkrfimk thrujm gbfhjujfk ghy jgmti g"
Hazel found her Baby All Gone pot of food, it says that on the side.
It comes up no where on the interwebs through a google search.
Oh crazy 90s toys.
But it has taken up a large portion of my thoughts recently.
I was clearing though old school documents today and found this that I wrote when I was in year 9.
It is VERY clear that I had been reading a lot of scary short stories at the time.
The Assassin.
She perched precariously on the three-legged stool, which was slowly sinking into the sodden earth, and pulled her hood further down, over her forehead. From a distance she blended in perfectly with the murky green grass. She pulled one of her boots from the ground and crossed and uncrossed her legs impatiently. The once lush green turf had slowly morphed into a muddy lake. Her startling blue eyes peered out from under finely shaped auburn eyebrows, her face was calm and serene, only her never blinking eyes portrayed the determination and hatred that was gathering inside her, like the storm clouds above. Not long now, she thought. Through the muggy air drifted the all knowing sent of death.
The clouds above deepened as behind them the sun, whose constant brightness was long forgotten in the constant downpour, began its final farewell. A few stray rays of magenta light broke through a slit in the unending carpet, and after forcing through the towering firs, lit up the abandoned barn with the burning intensity of real flames. The dry stone wall over the road caught a small amount of these snatches of sun and showed the raindrops shining on the mossy surface. Like an old mans bones the gate creaked as the wind hustled past, the lamp above flickered into life.
The rain petered out into as fine misty drizzle and a car, not so different to the colour of the weather, drew up the drive and came to an abrupt halt. Out of it stepped a woman, you know the sort, tall and blonde with a fine figure. She crunched up the pebbled drive, cursing as the rain curled her hair, and stepped into the sphere of orange light that surrounded the towering lamp. It lit up her perfectly chiselled face. She shivered, it may have been the cold; also a warning, and then pulled her fashionable coat further over her chest in an attempt to stay warm. She reached for the bell and the assassin realised, now or never.
Weeks of sneaking out, with the rifle, when he thought she was learning Spanish. Going down to the park each week to shoot the clay pigeons, practicing, perfecting till she was confident and ready. All the time leaving him and that woman together. It all boils down to these few seconds. This will teach him, she thought, what a fool he has been. Without a flutter of hesitation her finger found the trigger, and squeezed. The gun jumped. But she had calculated perfectly and the bulled hit the target. The body’s life drained visibly away as a fount of blood burst from her. She slumped to the ground and emitted a faint thud.
The assassin stood, leaving her belongings behind a small shrub, where she could return for them later. Taking only the rifle she walked, tripping slightly on invisible tussocks of grass she picked her way down the slope to the house. The same scene as usual met her gaze, only the victim’s body, still with a look of surprise stamped on her features, was out of place. She swatted at the moths that hovered around the flickering lamp, and caught one with the back of her hand, the life left it with such ease, she had become good at this, a killing machine. Soon her husband would be investigating to see where his girl was. What a surprise it would be to him when he opens the door, not to his lover, but to his wife, pointing his own rifle into his own startled eyes. A smirk breached the corner of her mouth, but she quickly hid it. She wanted to remain emotionless, which was easy, apart from the triumph reflected in her eyes.
It was probably the best thing I'd written up to that point in my life, I've never really been that good at English Language, I much preferred ripping apart the writing of others instead!
Right now I'm listening to Jon Richardson and deciding what to wear while I do a customary holiday floor clear.
Phwoar, Captain Jack on my calendar :D
The Buttercup Syrup cough sweets are FOUL.
I finished my Nerdfighter shoes.
Leaving only a small space for the future.
If you click on it you'll get A3 detail!
Right.
That is that done.
I want my computer off.
BAI
"the fhumngj mjku threy fkrfimk thrujm gbfhjujfk ghy jgmti g"
Hazel found her Baby All Gone pot of food, it says that on the side.
It comes up no where on the interwebs through a google search.
Oh crazy 90s toys.
Saturday, 4 April 2009
How you ever?
[I've had my comp on for 2 hours and haven't started writing this, for which there is too much to write for or even started clearing my hard drive.
I had a shower. I feel ready to write.]
Reached that point when you don't know how, where or when to start?
I started by writing, in pencil because I didn't want to switch my computer on and get distracted, then I did switch it on to type up and managed to not even reach the point of starting to type for 3 hours.
You see my problem?
I shall write about yesterday later, when I get round to sorting photos and video, thing is before I can do that I need to clear space.
I got in the house just after 3 last night and made sure my alarm was reset for later and slept.
Woke at 9:50 to the sounds of Tom Milsom.
I opened the post I'd got, a good luck with exams one from Lancaster Uni (remind me, look at accommodation!)
2 Congrats on driving pass cards.
And the newest edition of Art World.
I started reading that and only got a few pages in before I started having ideas I had to write down again.
What I want/wanted to do today list:
[X] Shower
[a bit] Clear space on harddrive.
[X] Watch Genius
[X] Watch up subscriptions and read blogs
[] Read b3ta newsletter
[X] Pick horse for Grand National
[decided against it, just gunna wait for the DFTBA one] Sign up for Wrock EP (it mails in April so today would be ideal, like a nice meal)
[X] Make and post Hazelizabeth video
[] Email Nerimon swirly pattern pictures
[] Sort Art Exam project into bag including pendrive, bear, fluff and final evaluation.
[] Go through drafts in phone and type up the memories / funnies.
[X] Watch Grand National at Nana's
[X] Post photos from Stratford to facebook
[] Plan out the next two weeks workwise
[] Read some Book.
[] Write up about yesterday here
[] Turn calendar over
[] Change bedding.
I have a long term to-do list for the next 2 weeks or so.
Winter's Tale Q cards and essays
Don Juan Q cards and essays
Synoptic 1B question essay
Synoptic mega revision
Read "In Memorium"
Finish reading Random Acts of Heroic Love
Finish Art essay
Finish off all art projects
Work on art ideas (Dailybootheyphotobluetoothyscreensinstallation) Ignore that it is so I remember.
Video ideas in production, all clothes inspired by Charile but a bit different. Wheezy wink and Hazelizabeth special.
Fully sort space on hd.
Psychology massive
Tidy room (very minor priority though)
Co-write with Maddy once she gets back.
Bet on for Lloyd Webber's horse Darkness for today.
Going to have a shower then type up the first half of my blog.
I did that.
I didn't win.
I'm gutted I didn't go for Mon Meme, I almost did because it reminded me of "Omnomnom", I could have had £50.
Shame on me.
I've just caught up with homestarrunner's teen girl squad!
:D
Listening to the Pottercast while editing photos is fun.
Video DONE
Yesterday was GREAT. The Winter's Tale was IMMENSE like you wouldn't believe.
The books falling and the bear and that recurring page, the imagery and acting was beautiful.
We spent a few hours in a park in the sun relaxing too.
Niiiight
I had a shower. I feel ready to write.]
Reached that point when you don't know how, where or when to start?
I started by writing, in pencil because I didn't want to switch my computer on and get distracted, then I did switch it on to type up and managed to not even reach the point of starting to type for 3 hours.
You see my problem?
I shall write about yesterday later, when I get round to sorting photos and video, thing is before I can do that I need to clear space.
I got in the house just after 3 last night and made sure my alarm was reset for later and slept.
Woke at 9:50 to the sounds of Tom Milsom.
I opened the post I'd got, a good luck with exams one from Lancaster Uni (remind me, look at accommodation!)
2 Congrats on driving pass cards.
And the newest edition of Art World.
I started reading that and only got a few pages in before I started having ideas I had to write down again.
What I want/wanted to do today list:
[X] Shower
[a bit] Clear space on harddrive.
[X] Watch Genius
[X] Watch up subscriptions and read blogs
[] Read b3ta newsletter
[X] Pick horse for Grand National
[decided against it, just gunna wait for the DFTBA one] Sign up for Wrock EP (it mails in April so today would be ideal, like a nice meal)
[X] Make and post Hazelizabeth video
[] Email Nerimon swirly pattern pictures
[] Sort Art Exam project into bag including pendrive, bear, fluff and final evaluation.
[] Go through drafts in phone and type up the memories / funnies.
[X] Watch Grand National at Nana's
[X] Post photos from Stratford to facebook
[] Plan out the next two weeks workwise
[] Read some Book.
[] Write up about yesterday here
[] Turn calendar over
[] Change bedding.
I have a long term to-do list for the next 2 weeks or so.
Winter's Tale Q cards and essays
Don Juan Q cards and essays
Synoptic 1B question essay
Synoptic mega revision
Read "In Memorium"
Finish reading Random Acts of Heroic Love
Finish Art essay
Finish off all art projects
Work on art ideas (Dailybootheyphotobluetoothyscreensinstallation) Ignore that it is so I remember.
Video ideas in production, all clothes inspired by Charile but a bit different. Wheezy wink and Hazelizabeth special.
Fully sort space on hd.
Psychology massive
Tidy room (very minor priority though)
Co-write with Maddy once she gets back.
Bet on for Lloyd Webber's horse Darkness for today.
Going to have a shower then type up the first half of my blog.
I did that.
I didn't win.
I'm gutted I didn't go for Mon Meme, I almost did because it reminded me of "Omnomnom", I could have had £50.
Shame on me.
I've just caught up with homestarrunner's teen girl squad!
:D
Listening to the Pottercast while editing photos is fun.
Video DONE
Yesterday was GREAT. The Winter's Tale was IMMENSE like you wouldn't believe.
The books falling and the bear and that recurring page, the imagery and acting was beautiful.
We spent a few hours in a park in the sun relaxing too.
Niiiight
Friday, 3 April 2009
Hello from the depths of tomorrow
I decided that these blogs will be part of BEDA
So I have to do one every day.
But right when this is posted I'll be in Stratford.
We went at 6:45, I won't be back till 4 ish.
22 hour trip.
I hope Winter's Tale will be good.
I'll write about it in tomorrow's blog.
:)
So I have to do one every day.
But right when this is posted I'll be in Stratford.
We went at 6:45, I won't be back till 4 ish.
22 hour trip.
I hope Winter's Tale will be good.
I'll write about it in tomorrow's blog.
:)
Thursday, 2 April 2009
How now brown cow?
Right, today was OK.
Lovely and sunny.
I rushed off an English essay.
Sat in the sun doing a collage.
Finished the Winter's Tale in time for tomorrow.
Had a hilarious conversation with some year 8's who were pushing in the dinner queue about Van Gough.
He chopped his ear off not his knob you fools.
Stuck more pencil shavings down in art and sang along to songs that started with "I want".
Had a bit natter with Hannah in English.
Spent two hours on the Sixthform Leavers 09 Yearbook cover.
It's ok but I wish I'd had longer to do a better job.
At home I've eaten and I want to sleep early.
x
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Have you downloaded The Prettiest Star yet?
CLICK HERE
April fool the music business and make a nobody a somebody over night!
Just got in from a concert where my coughing almost made my head explode and Maddy and I put the basics down for a Sorting Hat song.
Might make a Wrock band one day.
Weeeeeelllllll, I just think that's a bit selfish really.
Should say more, want sleep.
Oh I loved the YouTube April fool, upside down vids ftw.
HELL YES
I'm in another Vlogbrother's video 3:20, drawing on left, that's mine, I love those Dastardly Flying Tigers Battling Asthma!
April fool the music business and make a nobody a somebody over night!
Just got in from a concert where my coughing almost made my head explode and Maddy and I put the basics down for a Sorting Hat song.
Might make a Wrock band one day.
Weeeeeelllllll, I just think that's a bit selfish really.
Should say more, want sleep.
Oh I loved the YouTube April fool, upside down vids ftw.
HELL YES
I'm in another Vlogbrother's video 3:20, drawing on left, that's mine, I love those Dastardly Flying Tigers Battling Asthma!
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