I come from a small town which I have lived in all of my life, situated right between Carlistle and Newcastle in the North East of England. Well, I say 'North East' but geographically it's the exact middle. There's even a pub called 'The Heart of All England' because it used to be placed almost exactly on the georgraphical center of the UK, until they added a couple more islands.
But you probably didn't actually know any of that because it's such a remote place. A lot of people say it's the best of the countryside and the city, sceneic with plenty of history and a huge shopping mall only a few minuits away on a train.
I am, however, a city girl, and therefore I cannot stand the quiet, stale town. My escape plan has been made ever since I could think clearly. Get the grades, get to uni, never look back. I recently decided on the university I want to go and what I want to study and now the difficulty is reaching the grades.
I've already been accepted, and now I need to reach my grades: A in Maths A-level, B in English Lit A-level, B in Physics A-level and b in Further Maths AS.
I suppose I could get the grades but I have many things against me. Firstly, the fact that I'm on the computer instead of revising; I'm terrible at motivating myself to work outside of school hours. Secondly, I struggle with Physics. Last year I got a C overall, but I managed to push that half up to a B with a resit. I NEED to get the grades first time this time.
I'm sure I'll be alright. Eventually.
15 May, 2008
05 May, 2008
And Now I'm Rambling....
I apologise for the depressing tone of the last post, and I haven't found a cause for it yet, other then what I stated. I will return to the intellectual, formal essays that I began this blog with soon, but at the moment I'm a little more preoccupied with another thing; my Birthday.
Yes, in approximately 4 hours I will officially be 18 years of age, and with that I will be able to drink alcohol and earn more money. Isn't it bizarre that despite the fact I was born in the early hours of the morning I still wait for exactly 00.00 to call myself 18, but then again so does everyone.
At the big 1-8, you find yourself looking at what you have and haven't done in life, and where you thought you'd be now. Being on the computer to wind away the final hours of childhood was predictable, even from when I was young. And I've always had a passion for writing, so it's no surprise that I'm typing away right now.
There is a lot of things that I didn't expect, however. For one thing, I never expected to be in love, and caught up in someone else. I've always found myself as a independent, singular person, especially with relationships, so this is a surprise. I also completely did not expect to be holding a bear while typing, occassionally squeezing its chest to hear a mechanical heartbeat.
I guess I always expected to be out on the town, with a glass filled with a highly alcoholic liquid - well, probably Baileys - singing away the last few minuits, surrounded by friends.
So, what caused this difference? Is it the fact that I've changed, or just circumstances? My birthday being on Tuesday didn't help matters, especially on the day after May Day. I also have a disliking of pubs, especially when there's always a chance that I'll be IDed and thrown out, so I wouldn't find myself out tonight anyway. But I'm not doing anything for this special occassion, even when I can legally drink.
It's strange how many people say to me "Oh, I didn't do anything for my 18th either". You always expect that it would be the one where you would go out and party even more then any other because it's special. but that's exactly the reason why people don't. We've been celebrating every party before this one - the one that you look forward to your whole life - and now to make it stand out we just give up and relax, and do exactly what you want.
Maybe I'll have a drink at midnight, then get back to sleep.
Yes, in approximately 4 hours I will officially be 18 years of age, and with that I will be able to drink alcohol and earn more money. Isn't it bizarre that despite the fact I was born in the early hours of the morning I still wait for exactly 00.00 to call myself 18, but then again so does everyone.
At the big 1-8, you find yourself looking at what you have and haven't done in life, and where you thought you'd be now. Being on the computer to wind away the final hours of childhood was predictable, even from when I was young. And I've always had a passion for writing, so it's no surprise that I'm typing away right now.
There is a lot of things that I didn't expect, however. For one thing, I never expected to be in love, and caught up in someone else. I've always found myself as a independent, singular person, especially with relationships, so this is a surprise. I also completely did not expect to be holding a bear while typing, occassionally squeezing its chest to hear a mechanical heartbeat.
I guess I always expected to be out on the town, with a glass filled with a highly alcoholic liquid - well, probably Baileys - singing away the last few minuits, surrounded by friends.
So, what caused this difference? Is it the fact that I've changed, or just circumstances? My birthday being on Tuesday didn't help matters, especially on the day after May Day. I also have a disliking of pubs, especially when there's always a chance that I'll be IDed and thrown out, so I wouldn't find myself out tonight anyway. But I'm not doing anything for this special occassion, even when I can legally drink.
It's strange how many people say to me "Oh, I didn't do anything for my 18th either". You always expect that it would be the one where you would go out and party even more then any other because it's special. but that's exactly the reason why people don't. We've been celebrating every party before this one - the one that you look forward to your whole life - and now to make it stand out we just give up and relax, and do exactly what you want.
Maybe I'll have a drink at midnight, then get back to sleep.
02 May, 2008
Emoness
Today's blog is a vague blog, without really much thread, but that's pretty much the sort of mood I'm in. Previously, you've seen me writing full scaled articles on whichever topic I feel completely strongly about at that time, but today I just don't feel particularly strongly. The fuzzy numbness which seems to even force down the sides of your lips has overcome me.
In my first blog, I mentioned that blogs can be 'the rantings of a teenage girl', or something along those lines. This is that side of 'Just Another Bl*gging Day'.
Over the last few days, I've been feeling depressed and frequently on the verge of tears. I've had to act coldly my boyfriend, sometimes, just because I don't want to see him affected by my own problems. 'Problems'? Problems suggests something that can be dealt with, or a traumatic incident. This is more a case of 'emo'.
I'm sure there are thousands of 'emos' with actually horrific problems, and thousands that keep to the stereotype without ever feeling upset or even being tempted to buy a razor blade for anything other then shaving. The standard stereotype is, however, that 'emos' are depressed, suicidal and live in higher-class, almost flawless upbringings.
Don't instantly label this as hypocritical. First appearances can be deceiving. A great novel, Veronica Decides To Die, makes a good point about this; when there is danger in a community, stress will rise but depression and suicide will decline. You only ever feel depressed when you have the option to be depressed.
Little doses of unhappiness and trauma can actually be beneficial, although you'd probably disagree when you're going through that.
This is why I'm always very cautious when my life is seemingly going perfect: A loving boyfriend, a good potential future, an escape plan, and a fast approaching birthday. No wonder I feel so depressed.
In my first blog, I mentioned that blogs can be 'the rantings of a teenage girl', or something along those lines. This is that side of 'Just Another Bl*gging Day'.
Over the last few days, I've been feeling depressed and frequently on the verge of tears. I've had to act coldly my boyfriend, sometimes, just because I don't want to see him affected by my own problems. 'Problems'? Problems suggests something that can be dealt with, or a traumatic incident. This is more a case of 'emo'.
I'm sure there are thousands of 'emos' with actually horrific problems, and thousands that keep to the stereotype without ever feeling upset or even being tempted to buy a razor blade for anything other then shaving. The standard stereotype is, however, that 'emos' are depressed, suicidal and live in higher-class, almost flawless upbringings.
Don't instantly label this as hypocritical. First appearances can be deceiving. A great novel, Veronica Decides To Die, makes a good point about this; when there is danger in a community, stress will rise but depression and suicide will decline. You only ever feel depressed when you have the option to be depressed.
Little doses of unhappiness and trauma can actually be beneficial, although you'd probably disagree when you're going through that.
This is why I'm always very cautious when my life is seemingly going perfect: A loving boyfriend, a good potential future, an escape plan, and a fast approaching birthday. No wonder I feel so depressed.
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