Mothers' day...

I don't know what time I wake up, but suffice to say it is not at my own house. I have no problem with this. I make a point of always knowing my place; it's technically very difficult to get lost if you know where you are all the time.
Having breakfast at the house (of Earl Grey tea, yoghurt and cookie crisp- yum!) I remember it is indeed Mothering Sunday, and proceed to wolf down the rest of my food -eating cookie crisp at speed can result in some serious coughing fits - and I then say goodbye to Mr. W. and practically run to the bus stop.
I say "run". I mean, "walk a teeny bit faster than my average sloth-like pace". Give me a break, it's Sunday morning.
The bus is late by two minutes. But then, I am late by one, so this lateness (and reliable unreliability of the public services) is welcomed like a glass of water in the desert, almost literally. I am tempted to hug the driver, but refrain on the grounds that he looks like he has some form of lergy; indeed, he's sniffing profusely.
I sit upstairs (it's a double decker bus) and as Mr. W. has stolen my iPod for the day (downloading the music off it can take some time, it's a temperamental so-and-so) I sit looking out of the window. It's cloudy but the sun is managing to sneak through the gaps- great rays of it, at times so clearly outlined that I imagine people might start floating up in the columns of light, as if they're weightless.
After half an hour we reach my stop. I am so busy people-watching (often the other passengers on the bus entertain me for the entire journey) that I almost miss it, but never mind. I begin to walk home, my hood falling off my head because it's windy and I look like an idiot, a pure and unadulterated idiot, if I draw the strings tight. Like that character off of South Park. It's not cold out; I'm walking pretty fast. I've got energy now- the yoghurt, Earl Grey and cookie crisp have seen to that.
Getting home, everyone is awake. Unsurprising as it's gone eleven am. Still. I say my "hello there"s and we're off, more drama. The child is meant to be picked up by her sister. Who does not show up. This sister is NEVER on time. My mother dislikes the girl intensely- she's not allowed in the house... Ha ha ha! Eventually, the child is dropped off at her mother's by her father rather than her sister (she seems, as can be gathered form that sentence, and occurrence, to have a rather complicated family). The three of us (my mother, her boyfriend and I) go out for breakfast- though for me it's lunch- at Sainsbury's. I have scampi, chips and beans. This is a bad choice, as I'm not fond of chips, but everything on the lunch menu seems to come with them.

We go to Tesco and shop for a few essentials, and then go round adding other things in. I add in hair dye, dark brown. Also in  basket are jaffa cakes, oreos, slim-juice, and yoghurt. BRAN FLAKES! My favourite purchase today will be Bran Flakes. I love them.

We get home. The child is still out; my mother dyes my hair. It goes pretty much black, but I like it. I dye hers. We have somehow formed a new Mothers' Day action which we doubt will sweep the nation, but it is fun nonetheless.

The child comes back, ringing the bell, making noise. My hand is on my mother's shoulder. She says, "And she's back..." and there is a little pause while we listen. Her shoulders tighten- stress? Yes. "Calm down," I whisper.

We finish dying the hair and cook dinner. A huge roll of beef, with potatoes parsnips, peas and yorkshire puddings. And gravy, you can't forget the gravy. Dinner is wonderful. The child and my mother's boyfriend don't help at all; they sit there staring at the TV. My mother and I would rather read; for us TV is just a source of news and other interesting snippets of information from documentaries.

Dinner is good. I am very hungry and it's gone quickly- mum puts more on my plate. I notice she's all tense again- more stress. She's angry, very angry. The quiet angry that means after I have gone to bed there will be yelling and arguments and bangs. People in this house seem to strop a lot. Mother and I wash up and dry up and then put the things from dinner away. I wish her a Happy Mothers' Day. The worst bit of today was coming home and finding a card to her, with flowers, from the child. It is not her child. She is not it's mother. I wish the child would go, sometimes.

I'm tired. I brush my teeth. I come and write my blog. Sorry for the long and dull post. I have done no work this weekend... I will have to buckle down tomorrow, with my black hair and my stressed mother and my lack of space and freedom. I will have to work very hard.

Goodnight.

Happy reading folks!

An Excerpt

I'm sort of slowly writing this book called living memory. I have a lot of rogue thoughts that need to escape somewhere. The more prepared, polished and "colloquialised" ones go on here most of the time, but I keep other parts, building them up part by part, sentence by sentence, until they are long enough to read as tiny novels. Novelettes. They're like little windows into my mind. I love the idea that you can all see that, and see how my mind works, even if only for a few moments.
I must admit it is weird to write into an empty space, my general thoughts and the goings-on of my life, and then every-so-often to have someone come up to me and say "Hey, that last post was really good! Nice one!". It's the sort of thing that promotes a fuzzy feeling. But not the kind when you accidentally touch something mouldy; the kind when you're genuinely taken by surprise and it pleases you that someone out there takes the time to read.
So, here's a little excerpt of a chapter I started a while ago. In fact, you can have all of it, it's not that long.

Structuring
I think that my life must have some base, some form of backbone, or it is just as I would be without one- useless, unable to move, unstructured. I enjoy having somebody there to tell me over and over again that I keep getting it wrong and I must try harder. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience for me.
I’d like to think that my friends feel the same way but alas this is not always the case, and it has been the sole subject of many a heated discussion over the lunch table, or occurring on the long walk home. If I turn left when we leave school it takes me ten minutes to get home but if I choose (as I so often do) to turn right and accompany my friends their ways home, then I take sometimes two hours. It is something to be expected as their way is much longer ad more laborious by far- hills, large busy roads with little choice but to run across when you dare.
It’s all about spirit and courage; sometimes on a cold day you could be waiting at the side of the road for five or ten minutes before someone lets you across… Or before there is a sizeable gap through which you can transport yourself. Getting safely to the other side is my main worry once I have stepped off that curb.
I find it a frightening prospect when we work very hard for only a short time and then we have a holiday. I feel undeserving- adults work harder but their holidays are strikingly shorter than ours. But now, now is bliss for me.
I love my A-Levels. They are very hard work but they force you to think and comprehend in new dimensions and accelerate your learning until you fabricate an entirely new plane of thought. Today, as with many days in the future and many in the past, I’ve worked a proper work-shift- nine to five. Two hours of Law, Three hours of German, followed by top-ups for both subjects at the local library. I like working hard. I seem to be one of the few people who does, but it is useful.
So today I got up at twenty to seven, just like every other day in the last two weeks. Including weekends, that is- as my body-clock has now managed to set itself for around that time. Useful, I must say. Because I’m waking up naturally I’m not feeling as if I’ve been shaken awake from the deepest recesses of unconsciousness- which is evidently what used to happen because I used to remain groggy for a good while after waking. That proverbial poke-with-a-stick is no longer something I have to suffer, and it is a lovely feeling. I do quite enjoy it. I’m becoming less reliant on technology as I get older, even though the market is expanding.
It is this sort of gentle coercion, which amounts to my being able to go on working day in, day out for months on end. I am doing things I am interested in. I make sure I take little breaks to do what I want. I am truly rather happy bumbling along on my own, like a lone wolf. I get on very well on my own.
That’s not to say I don’t have friends, of course I have a few connections. But, I am not very old. I am sixteen. Too many connections can prove dangerous; influential; off-putting in terms of work. I don’t like the idea that someone else could (even accidentally) be influencing me or dragging me away from work. I will do that myself!
My family thinks I’m mad, they really do. I tell them (as a non-spiteful but still good comeback) that it’s genetic. The structures of our genes have to be the same somewhere.

I love it though, I really do. I love my life and the way I have no idea what the heck will happen next; it makes me try harder to bias the odds in my favour- even a little. As Tesco would so brightly put it- “Every little helps”.



          So there you have it.
Feedback when you next see me/visit my Facebook page, please.


Happy reading, folks!

SUDDENLY...

I have updated rather a lot since the last post! Firstly; I keep getting ill and things are going a bit wrong so I can't really eat much at the moment. The upside of this is that I get to eat ice cream; the downside is, I'm not particularly fond of ice cream. So, I could opt for ice... (we're talking pain regarding tonsils and teeth here) but it's a little too...icy... I see... (tehehe) so I've stuck with ice cream so far.

I had tonsillitis a couple of weeks back and it was quite horrible- I used to get it all the time as a child but now it's not so frequent. In fact, I don't get ill very often generally. The problem is, when I do manage to contract some disease (viral bacterial, idiotic), I get it rather badly and it can knock me out of the loop for a good week or so. My mother, who knows me well, brought me a newspaper and ten yoghurts. I got better (not before I'd lost half a stone, but hey- it doesn't happen so often so it's not so bad).

ALSO! NEWS... My jaw is hurting. Big time. No, I did not try to impersonate a snake and dislocate it or anything; it just hurts on the right hand side. At the joint part, which suggests that it is growing wrong even more than it already has. Whoop-de-do. However, I must say, as half of the pain is due to teething, I can't complain as it's easily fixable; just remove the teeth...

You see, a couple of days ago I was walking along, and SUDDENLY my jaw seized up. I gotta tell you, it's a weird feeling, finding that. You go to talk and you sound like some sort of imbecilic child with a huge gobstopper in its mouth. Or some sort of imbecilic teenage girl giving.... [teenage girls a much-unneeded slutty stereotype?}... Anyway, yes. You get the gist. I am told part of this is due to my wisdom teeth growing through. "WHAT?! Wisdom teeth?" I said, hoping that my always-correct mother, er, wasn't; "It can't be true! I'm not even wise! What are they DOING?!"

I'll tell you what they're doing, they're boring a bloody hold into the side of my mouth, that's what it feels like they're doing. Little enamelly bastards.

Also, I decided to give year seven the benefit of the doubt and give them two weeks to do a piece of homework which should take ten minutes. While explaining it to them (keep it short and sweet, they have little attention span...) I clearly stated, thrice (dammit!) that under no circumstances were they to put their names on the paper. One of the children proceeded to begin filling out the form. But, of course, not before he'd (with admirable clarity and neatness) put his name at the top. Half of me was proud that handwriting isn't quite dead yet. The other half was seething that ten seconds after an instruction, this young man had decided it didn't matter. Pah.

They don't know it yet, but if any of them have put their names on the top, I will be taking them aside and saying that not only did I state this was not to be done but it is also WRITTEN at the top of the paper. I'm afraid, young ones, that sometimes your idiocy steps in front of you, and ignorance makes you look a fool.

The little enamelly bastards problem will (hopefully) be either sorted (strong painkillers under prescription or something!) on the First of April... Or made worse by the added happiness-hindrance of braces. Bastard braces. and not the cool old-fashioned ones for holding up your trousers, either. No, oh boy, no. These little wires of joy/hell will be attached to my teeth for the next who-knows-how-long. I'm sixteen.... It could be until I'm nearly twenty. I don't want to think about that much!

School is going splendidly, thanks for asking. Law is great fun, as usual. Politics will become so when we begin revising for the exams and they help us with quickfire sessions; those help me a great deal. Etcetera, etcetera- I must go to bed, I'm knackered and I have a consultation in the morning with my tutor. Somehow the word "woooo" doesn't cover it...

bored, bord, board, bored...

The first signifies I have nothing to do.
The second would signify I have no, or few, brain cells.
The third is entirely more planky than lacking entertainment...
And the fourth reminds me of sciences tests, apples and potatoes.

Welcome (again, or for the first time) to my blog, where I... er... Blog, I suppose. Today has been a chilled out day. I wasn't due in school until eleven and there was no homework to be done so I tried (note TRIED) to sleep in for a bit. Nevertheless, my attempts were in vain and I got up at arond nine thirty (after cheerful but sleepy chat with Mr. Wonderful) and ate some cheerios while continuing my latest book (I read them, not write them)- this one is by Jeffery Archer and it's called "The Fourth Estate".

I find it very eaasy to work out who authors are through the styles of their books. Archer's usually have at least one character who comes from a poor, damaged country (in Kane and Abel this would be Abel) and who rises to the top of society through sheer dumb luck and a little bit of indispensible knowledge. In both Kane and Abel, and The Fourth Estate, the character from a poor country ends up in a long-enduring fight for supremacy (K&A focuses on money; TFE on newspapers and media sources). both books are pretty good, though TFE seems to drag on a bit- especially if you're reading to a deadline and you're tired. Which I am, very.

I should be finished with TFE in the next hour; then onto "Thrill" by Jackie Collins. I loved the first book of hers that I read, "Lovers and Players", and I look forward to reading my next planned installment of her writing style. She makes stories interesting without there having to be constant drama after drama, such as in soaps on the TV. I like reading much better. With TV it is hard to analyse characters.

I considered writing a book about my past, present, and my hopes for the future, but I then realised that at the age of sixteen I do not want to sound or appear facetious, I do not feel my life has been used to its full yet, I haven't achieved any major feats, I am not famous and I never EVER want to be compared to Justin Bieber, no matter how small the similarity between the two of us.

I've no homework to do- today I managed to do a piece before the teacher had even set it and therefore have provided myself with a free evening in which I can do what I please (wonderful! I have constantly been reading since I came home).

Everybody else is moaning about the amount of work they have to do. I was actually smart for once and did nearly all of it in the holidays. I feel I can control my work much better now.

Of course, what you don't all know is that f I don't do it I get so stressed out about letting people down that I panic properly and become pretty much insane after a while...

Happy reading, folks!

Oh, the hard (muscled) life of a mesomorph...

Bonjour friends, Romans, countrymen!

As I said this week is my half term so I'm sort of alternating between four activities- sleeping, meeting up with friends, exercising and studying.

For ages and ages I was worried about my weight (unfortunately I was pretty much round at the beginning of secondary school), and I've been exercising and eating more healthily and wondered why the weight hasn't come off. Even though I look better now than I did before it has taken a year to realise a very important fact.

I will never be skinny-thin. And now I don't want to be. At points, though, I feel it would be easier to be a guy.

This sounds probably horrible to my boyfriend. But darling, hear me out- I have my reasons! You see, there are three main body types, and people can be a mix of them. Obviously there is the endomorph- you know, that person that no matter WHAT they eat, they seem to stay thin. Sometimes very thin (extreme ectomorph). Then we have it's opposite; the ectomorph. As Tim Minchin so kindly put it in one of his songs (Fat Children, link here), these people often "just can't keep the kilos orf". Trust me when I spell off that way. It's all in the song.

Anyway, there is a third main body type. This is the mesomorph. Mesomorphs find it somehow easier to gain muscle. This would be the reason that despite having done seven hours of exercise since Thursday morning (it being Tuesday today) I have put on two pounds. Something tells me I need to find another sport. At the moment I'm doing running, cycling, ice skating, rollerblading. Maybe I should chuck a little ultimate Frisbee in there. Who knows, give it a couple of months and I might start looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger when he was young[er]. I doubt I'll get anywhere near that bad. Don't worry. [nervous laugh]. Point is, muscular guys are really hot, whereas muscular girls are.. Well, just not so pretty to look at. Women are seemingly meant to look more loving. More loving, less shoving. Yes!

But I digress. This is what mesomorphs have to expect...

The MESOMORPH

• Athletic
• Hard Body
• Hourglass Shaped (Female)
• Rectangular Shaped (Male)
• Mature Muscle Mass
• Muscular Body
• Excellent Posture
• Gains Muscle Easily
• Gains Fat More Easily Than Ectomorphs
• Thick Skin

The Mesomorph Body

The mesomorph has well-defined muscles and large bones. The torso tapers to a relatively narrow and low waist. The bones and muscles of the head are prominent. Features of the face are clearly defined, such as cheek bones and a square, heavy jaw. The face is long and broad, and is cubicle in shape. Arms and legs are developed and even the digits of the hand are muscled.

Other Traits of the Mesomorph

The skin of the mesomorph is thick and the mesomorph tans well. The hair is heavy in texture.



I'm not sure about the whole hair-heavy-texture thing or the muscular fingers (God forbid if I poke you) but the rest of it seems accurate. In the last month specifically my face has thinned out a lot- looking at more defined cheekbones and jawline to boot. Which in two years time will be MUCH more defined by my little operation going on (no it is NOT cosmetic surgery, it is for medical reasons. I have to stop growing first). 


Hope everybody is having fun and a good laugh wherever they are; don't play too much, everybody should have something to do, at least from time to time! 


Happy reading folks, much love, Mes. (teheheh!)

Holiday week!

Time to relax... Sort of...

There's a lot of schoolwork to do, that I have always imagined they only set because they don't want us to have any long-lasting real fun (at least, not without feeling guilty about it afterwards due to having not done the work...) but I ust say I always submit myself to trying to find a balance between the two. The Basement Jaxx song "Broken Dreams" off one of their much earlier ablums, Rooty, reminds me of holidays and sunny places. the link is here. I love the entire album, it's a got a very fresh feel to it.

Happy reading, folks! Sorry this post is so short- I've got to go out and do some non-school related activities which are merely practicalities. When ALL your pairs of jeans have a hole in the right kneww it's time for a new pair, methinks. Bye, guys and gals! (Or should that be buy?)

A little bit of love (not for McDonald's)

There was an ad on the television for McDonald's. It was right at the time when most children get home... Should we really be marketing our food and diet in this way? I thought ads for junk food had been banned in the UK before the watershed! 

I've been doing more exercise recently as it's beginning to get acceptably warm to be seen outside NOT wearing enough layers that you resemble a walrus (!) and I have very unfamiliar problems with exercise that most other girls (certainly none of my friends I've talked to) don't seem to get. Such as, I put on weight from muscle. Very quickly. Like, not a little bit so I still look like a girl- so I need to be very careful with the exercises I do. If I want to remain relatively lean-looking (rather than like a bodybuilder) the best exercises are gentle stretches and running. When I say running, I mean in a gym, as it's easier to time how long I'm running for there. I'll run for (in a three to four hour session) about an hour (at intervals!!) and also use a cross trainer, which is elliptical and can be used backwards (to work the muscles on the FRONTS of the legs and such). I haven;t been in a while but this coming weekend I'm going to make time and start going again, more frequently. I get very bored at home, and reading books is wonderful but doesn't help me keep my fitness up.

In ice skating I've been going during public sessions (not much space but ah well) and working on my spins- they're really effective for....er...pulling stomach muscles, if you do them too much. Even with a warmup there is only so far it is possible to push yourself, and this is bearing in mind I didn't visit the rink from December 24th to January 25th. I'm enjoying all the exercise greatly but I've put on more muscle (back and thighs) from the coordination it takes for the sit spin. I'm probably losing not much fat, though- I have a habit of eating Jaffa Cakes which is far too "om nom nom" to break for now!

Happy Valentines' Day, everybody, hopefully you've either got someone to share it with (including a friend or multiple friends) or you're happy doing whatever else it is that you're doing. Make some toast! Or something...

South West England has had a sunny day today and I love the sun so I'm happy. It's still quite cold though and there's homework to be done for tomorrow which may prove a little problematic (German... I can try at least!) so I'll leave you with these thoughts...

Also, I'm onto (read as "halfway through") another book, Private by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro. It's not as good as the last novel of theirs that I read- "Swimsuit", though this may be merely for the fact that it's less gory and I was expecting gore. A book promising chilling gore with no gore in, does not a happy reader make!!

Happy reading, folks!