The magical adventures of Christmouse

News news news! In what can only be described as a surprisingly satisfying cliche, I received socks for Christmas, again. Don't see it the wrong way, though; I asked for them. My room is pretty cold most of the time (in comparison to the rest of the flat, at least). It's currently 18.2 degrees (Celcius, not Fahrenheit!!) so it's bearable. My feet, of course, aren't cold. Why, you ask? Because, dear reader, I didn't get just any socks for Crimbo. No, I got ski socks. Proper ski socks. From animal. And they're green and black! And they're padded on the front and back! And... Okay, I'm starting to rhyme, which is a sign I should stop.

I've always wondered, when geniuses get bored in exams do they answer in rhyme instead of the normal way just for a change or challenge? Perhaps they answer in iambic pentameter, that'd be awesome.

So I have a bit of an embarrassing tale for you all. If you've ever seen an advert (it was on UK TV for a while) in which  lady drops a mug of tea on her laptop... You can see where this is going. I had a major cock-up incident in which I knocked over a mug of hot ribena. If anybody reading this doesn't know what ribena is, you need to google it, find out if your local shop has some, and then go and get it. But as a matter of opinion the one with no added sugar tastes best (just so you know). So... Yeah. Great taste. Even my laptop liked it.

So, new keyboard, whoop!

Now, you'll be wondering who the heck Christmouse is. Basically, I still have a stocking. My mum (I mean Santa or his elves) fills it with silly little things. This year I got a Newton's Cradle (everybody needs one, let's be honest, they're endlessly entertaining) and a toy mouse that, when you press its belly, belts out a verse of "Let It Snow" in an adorable high tone. I love it. It was duly named Christmouse.

Anyway, I've had this idea that, as I'm going to university in September (subject to grades), I will take Christmouse with me and take photos of him and show my family (and probably you folks, too) what I'm up to and what's going on. I wrote my mum a note explaining that there is likely to be at least one scene in which Christmouse takes over Cathedral City as mayor (Cathedral City is a cheese), but he gets fired because he eats the citizens and buildings. I'm very proud of the silly pun.

So hopefully Christmouse will be going places this year. I hope to find my camera (yes, I've lost it) and start ASAP. Note: Help me find my camera!!

Aside from that, I've got examinations next week and so I doubt very much that there'll be anything particularly interesting out of me for some time ( I mean until they're over). Unless you want to read rants of paranoia about not having done enough revision, that is.

Happy reading, Folks!!

Victoria

HOLIDAY (kind of)

So I'm back again! Back from the abyss that is preparing for holidays, back from the pit that is exhaustion at the end of the school term... And back, most importantly, from Germany.

I appreciate it's been a long, LONG time. But I've had fun! I've been busy. I don't just sit there doing nothing. I do things, see things. We saw Sans Soucci palace (it means without cares- OHNE SORGEN)... And we went to the Jewish Museum in Berlin, which was harrowing, possibly partially due to the fact that as we were translating from German it took longer to read and to find the information (though there are panels in the museum next to the German ones which have the English, I was testing myself). Taking a long time to read these chunks of information means that they really hit a home string. We (there were eight students and two teachers) read about the experiences of Jewish children and families during the Holocaust... I highly recommend going and seeing for yourselves. Unless you were on the trip with me or have already been (though it won't hurt to go again). It's on Lindenstrasse 9-14, 10969 Berlin. The building was designed by Daniel Libeskind, who after having completed the museum was suddenly in demand. His work is revered.

So on this trip, there were two teachers (as I said), me (a Year 13), Anya, Huw, Sadie and Tegwen (Year 12s), and Abbie, Rowena and Mel (Year 11s). I felt a bit odd being the oldest non-teacher there. We had a lot of good conversation, a lot of snooker games, and a LOT of food.

We were there for four days. I hate flying. I loved walking back through the front door, though, because my mum cried. Four days, I know. I cried too. A mixture of tiredness and having missed her so badly... It was amazing.

I'm afraid I got up at quarter to five and need to try to fill a full day tomorrow, revising and decking the halls. Probably not with boughs of Holly.

Advent, Advent, ein lichtlein brennt... I can't remember the rest, but it was two or three weeks ago I heard it...

FROHE WEIHNACHTEN!!! Merry Christmas!

Have great holidays/ festivities!

Happy reading, folks!

(And the morning light sings, and brings) new things...

As I'm sure many of you have experienced while you were young (if you are still young, hopefully you're experiencing it now), the rather useful phenomenon that is your parents pushing you into trying new things. After a while you come to have favourite foods and certain ones you avoid. I, for example, am a great pasta lover, but I will lay down my fork (or stab the chef with it) if you place cauliflower cheese in front of me. Personally I feel that particular dish is an abomination. But I digress.

So, my parents did indeed tell me to try new things. This year, what with my feeling a little more adult, and actually having some disposable income (part-time jobs, most of it I'm saving for university though), I thought I'd like to start eating out at some different places. Back in July, I did a review of an art exhibition (not food, in this case) that my friends had created. I sincerely must re-mention it was damn good. I am lucky to have such talented friends. But back to my point! I enjoy writing short reviews. If nothing else, it gives me a tangible, written opinion, that because it is on the internet can never be lost or misplaced.

So, last Friday, I went to Filini. Glass tables, very clean cutlery, food presented very well (actually it was almost too beautiful to eat, and then it tasted almost too good to actually swallow, but there you go), service impeccable. The waiters and waitresses who attended our table did so very efficiently. And they enjoyed their jobs. A tip for you: no matter how mundane a person's job may seem, they're doing it. And you should thank them. Sincerely. It can make their day.

Anyway, the food. The food! Meat antipasti, Meat and cheese antipasti, Various breads with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. That was the starter. Main course:  Risotto ai frutti di mari profumato al limone (Lemon scented seafood risotto). It was incredible, not undercooked or overcooked, the squid wasn't chewy but actually soft (undercooked, it's a bit like chewing a small rubber ring)... ANd dessert, which is my biggest regret of the last month. Not because it was bad; it wasn't. Filini's has literally the best, creamiest tiramisu I have ever eaten. It was divine. But I was full. Darn.

Amazing setting. Overall, 9/10. Only nine because I would have liked a little more light- it wasn't dingy but it could have done with a little more visibility. But I LOVED it!!!

Happy reading, folks!

Essay day

Lots of English schools are closed today because our teachers are off striking in order to somehow raise their own pension packets. Two things: because they're not working, they don't get paid for today (clever...) and they're also not going to change much. Petitions and pressure groups, people! Those are the only things that will work at this point! That or replacing David Cameron (our Prime Minister, and an idiot) with someone who can do the job better.

I'm not looking to start a political debate here, I'm just saying. I'm not saying I'd do a better job, just that he's doing a bad one.

In other news... As we have a day off I've been watching The Godfather (I say been watching because it's almost three hours long so there are breaks every now and then), cooking lunch (took half an hour; SO worth it. I hate fast food. Just because it takes less time does not mean it's good for you. In fact, the rule is kind of an inverted thing. What you really want is either raw food all the time (salads and stuff, but I like meat and fish and hot food in general so that's not really possible) or food that takes long enough to cook that you actually RESPECT it. And take the time to ENJOY it. I get up half an hour earlier than I need to, because I want TIME to enjoy my food and appreciate where it's come from. The fact it's usually coming from the toaster is something to be ignored. I don't like to wolf stuff down. Among other things, it makes me feel sick. It also means I feel hungry more quickly afterwards.

Today has also been an essay day. That means I've done essays all day (probably quite self-explanatory but for those who didn't somehow work it out, there you go). Today is German essay day. I'm doing topics like wine-growing in the region of Rhineland-Pfalz and the commersialisation of Hallowe'en. We have to be pretty specific this year with what we choose to write about. It is difficult but enjoyable.

Right, I'd better finish this next essay ("Watching television on your Laptop saves electricity and money").

Happy reading, folks!

Mind your Ps and Qs (please. Thank you.)

As a teenager, and a Briton, I feel people who do not know me often stereotype me. Everybody becomes aware of certain labels they have placed upon them. We often, unfortunately, are then treated accordingly. This leads to something of a self-sulfilling prophecy in some cases- where a person is labelled as something and through interactions with others they change to fit their label.

For the sake of this post, being a teenager is something a great majority of the humans on this planet endure. So I'm using that as the basis for my next argument, which is (in England at least) STOP being moody and thinking you have to say intelligent things all the time. STOP expecting people to always help you. But mainly, please please PLEASE stop forgetting to use your manners.

I know we are in a recession, okay? I know you have exams. I know you're unhappy because your dog's ill, or your grandmother passed away, or you've run out of foundation. I know that life could probably be going better, and I know that sometimes there are moments when you think it'd be great to just sleep until all the problems have gone away. Whether you're having trouble at school, at home, or at work, it still constitutes very little effort to use manners.

I have been brought up to hold doors for people. Don't misunderstand this as chivalry- I just do it. I do it for you. I do it for the people on the other side of the door, the guy who looks like he needs to be somewhere fast, the teachers who carry countless boxes and files everywhere. At work I do it for the customers. There's nothing like investing a little good into the day. I enjoy my job.

What I don't, however, enjoy, is when I do this sort of thing and people don't say thank you. Sometimes, people don't even acknowledge my presence. I'm not a ghost! I'm not a doorstop! I have just given a little time and energy to make you feel better. Please thank me for it. If at this point any readers are saying or thinking, "yeah, but you only do it for yourself", of course I do. That's what we all do. That's the only reason people do good things- to make themselves feel good, or better, about who they are. To relieve guilt. I was an AWFUL child, and I mean that, truly I do. I was terrible. Nowadays I try to be as friendly and docile as possible. I use manners. I say thank you. I say please. Not in that order.

I don't understand two things in this situation: one, why don't people say thank you for these little gestures? And two, why is this now acceptable? There should be a universal level of respect for everyone. But only for the right reasons. If you're older than me, it doesn't give me any cause to respect you. I respect you because you've been here longer- it's not about age, it's about experience in the field, in life. I respect my coworkers, because I know that people don't appreciate even the most menial jobs can mean endless hours of tiring work. When did it become okay to expect other people to open the door for you? When did it become okay to completely ignore your waiter or waitress at dinner? When did it become okay to talk down to people because they know less than you or because they've done wrong things in the past? Derogatory behaviour rips us apart. Friends turn against friends. Families fail to communicate.

A few little rules we should all use:

* Obey the rules of the road, people! They're there for a reason.
* Don't interrupt people while they're talking unless it's important. Really important.
* Help where you can.
* Don't assume people have or haven't done things. If you assume someone is guilty, you may well be treating an innocent man wrongly. If you assume someone is lazy, check they're not doing their work elsewhere.
* Try to genuinely understand the situation others are in.
* Say please, say thank you.
* Appreciate people for doing their jobs!
* Say please and thank you some more.
* Be chivalrous.
* Be helpful.
* Jealousy is fine, just don't voice it.
* Talking about one person to another is a quick way to lose friends and/or gain a reputation as a gossip. Sharing secrets is not condoned.
* NEVER use technology while at the dinner table. It should be about the people there, and the food.
* Chew. with. your. mouth. closed.
* Don't speak with your mouth full.
* Don't laugh at others for not being able to do something just because you find it easy. They are probably better than you at something else.
* Don't lie to get others into trouble. If you mess up, you should take the blame.

Happy reading, folks!

Agony shan't

 So, more dental treatment, I'm sure loads of you have been through it. Apologies for not poating for a while. I've had a truckload of work I wanted to get through (one more essay to do tonight, it's quarter to eleven and this one's due tomorrow) and I still have a bit more (okay LOADS but let's ignore it for the minute).

This little intro brings me to what I call the Golden Rule of Work (GROW). The GROW is, and this is not simplified or shortened or anything, because it's nice and simple already- "As long as the work is in on the deadline, completed to a satisfactory degree and quality, then it doesn't matter when you do it."

I live by this rule. Seriously. I'm the "night before the deadline" kind of person many of my friends despise. Not because I don't do the work, but because I work well under pressure, so leaving most of the application (which admittedly I do preplan in advance, because it gives me days to think of what I'll write into the longer essays) until the night before is fine by me. I can speed-type when I'm in the working mood. By speed type I mean seven pages in an hour. Size twelve font. But yeah, I have to be in a working mood. A productive mood, as it were. It does depend on the subject, though. Law and Sociology essays are a lot easier to complete than German ones, not least because I already know English grammar, syntax, cases, and verb agreement. I've just finished an essay titled "Das Verhältnis zwischen Martin und Clarissa ist gespannt. Wie ist das zu erklären und auf welche Weise wird das im Film vermittelt?". For those of you, I guess a majority, who don't speak German, this translates into "The relationship between Martin and Clarissa is strained. How is this explained and through what methods is it mediated (shown)?" so yes. Sometimes A-Level languages have some strange questions. We've just finished a seven-week long "Environmental resources" topic- believe it or not, I've learnt more about renewable resources in the last term than science taught me in the whole of Secondary School.

Anywhooo, I got braces put on my top teeth this past Friday (two days ago). I still can't chew anything, and they're cutting my mouth because the orthodontist didn't cut the ends of the wires off enough. So every time I smile or laugh or talk or eat or even brush my teeth, I cut the inside of my cheeks. Like an inside-out joker. Except even less funny. Agony shan't get the better of me, however.

One thing that gets rid of pain is hilarity- and hilarity did indeed present itself yesterday evening. Boy oh boy, it was a treat, I tell you! My mother and I, her boyfriend (Julian) and his daughter were all sat in the living room, me on the floor, the other three on chairs (I'm completely uncouth, I know). Suddenly, Julian jumped off the chair, and smacked a rather large spider onto the floor. It started jogging (not quite a run, not quite a walk, like it was hurrying, I suppose) towards the curtains. His daughter ran to get a glass and postcard [note: these should exist in every house at all times for moments such as this]. Right as she left the room, he put his foot in front of it, to stop it getting to the curtains. Now, I would have applauded this (admittedly ill-thought out) tactical move, if it were not for what happened next. The spider, seeing the shoe, sped up. It ran to the shoe, straight UP the side of the shoe (still on Julian's foot) and... Up his trouserleg. There was a moment of disbelief. He then started doing what I can only describe as a one-legged, three-times-normal-speed haka dance, stamping the foot over and over again. After four or so frenzied stamps (all four of us are scared of spiders, I should say), it fell to the floor. The damage, however, has been done. My mother and I pissed ourselves laughing, and there are now conversations underway to the effect of wearing bicycle clips at all times. A good idea, perhaps, but I think I prefer the more interesting outcome that results from the alternative.

Happy reading, folks!

No woman, no b***h

We've all met that one girl. She looks nice enough. She comes to class. Or not. Most women/girls/female humans live an existence that, for lack of a better phrase, is multi-faceted. We have a lot to deal with. So do men. But men, men are different. They sort things out. They eat different stuff (I have a couple of mates,and by a couple I mean at least five, who seem to live off chocolate and crisps and other foods with similar properties). They wear different clothes. They act differently. The biggest difference? Most men aren't bitches.

Now, quite clearly, these are stereotypes. They have to be. If they're not, things get boring. Besides, there are a lot of bitches out there, and like I said, girls are multi-faceted. The more facets you have (figuratively speaking), the more possible reasons there are behind why you're awful.

Here we have it: the Six Bitches. (These are the most prolific)

Academic bitch
Let's be clear here, I'm not talking about the new teacher who's completely at the mercy of other teachers. No, this is the girl who does really, really well in your year, but has no real redeeming qualities. She'll only be pretending to congratulate you on your results. She's asked you like she's asked everyone else- and for one reason. To make sure she's done better (and you know it). "Aw, do you need some help? I already understand it/I got it already/I learnt this years ago. Here, let me show you." I'd rather not learn it, thanks.

Middle-class bitch
The one girl you like, until you realise she's focused on one thing and one thign only- establishing to others how uppercut she is. Activities include talking about how much opportunity she has, how lucky she is, and how unfortunate the lower classes are. Yes, they are, but moaning about it does nothing. Actions, not words. Actions, though, are something this bitch expects to be done for her.

Rich bitch
Oh yeah, look at all her money, and her things, and her poor-little-rich-girl problems. She has it all, but she has nothing, she has everything you want (and/or need), and yet, and yet... She isn't greatful. The kind of girl who doesn't respect her belongings at all. "Oh, my phone broke! Guess I'll get another." We bet you will.

Work bitch
she might be your boss. She might work in a different department. She might even be your subordinate. The point is, this one's an...un-keeper, if you like. GO AWAY, work bitches. All you do is moan all day about how much you hate your job. Asking every for the time every five minutes signals only one thing: you feel you have somewhere better to be and something better to do. Save it. It's annoying. If the job gets in the way that much, just quit!

Pseudopseudobitch
The bitch who makes bitchy comments, before pretending they're jokes. "Just kidding!" "Aw, you know I don't mean it." "You love it really." I love you not being here, that's what I love. Often these girls start out as friends and then seem to do some form of decomposition to become what is essentially a pseudopseudobitch- a girl who pretends to "pretend". We'd like to more than pretend to see the back of the likes of you.

The dumb bitch
Oh, this is probably the worst. But also the easiest to shred. These girls are the ones who overhear your conversation before openly proclaiming that to know so much "you must totally have, like, no life. Lol!" Ah, dumb bitches. You will not amount to much. Go run, I'm sure there's a bin or something waiting for you. Just because someone is bright doesn't mean they have no social life (careful ladies, not to turn into academic bitches here. You do have a right to defend yourselves, just not too much).