"The Great Unknown"

I drafted the below blog in late February / early March 2013.

It is now early February 2017 and I've just discovered this draft.

How pertinent it is.

I'm not lost, I'm on an adventure

I'm not one for avoiding the truth in things, but sometimes it's far easier to just say something that avoids the true subject that you might be talking about. Hence the title and the potentially (definitely) very rambly blog that will follow. [Note, two lists will follow: one rather mundane, the other a little bit more interesting.]

Now, I've just got back in from cycling an epic ten miles. That might not seem epic, in terms of actual distance, but for me (who only ever cycles the two miles to campus and back every so often, weather dependant) it was a rather ace milestone to have smashed. As part of my university course, I have to take part in external, voluntary projects, tailored towards my Education degree. As a result of my imminent term abroad, I had to organise my volunteering to begin this term and be a short placement. I'm working as a research assistant on the Nuffield Early Language programme, testing nursery children on language acquisition, namely expressive language and sentence structure. I had been placed in a school in Acomb, which is five miles from my student house in York, and the route looked ambitious as I planned it out last night.Would I walk for 1hr 20mins to get there because of the snow? Heck no, that meant leaving at 6.30am. Nope. Cycling was the only other option, since buses didn't run from my neck of the woods until after 8.30am, when I needed to be at the school. Challenge accepted.

 There were lots of things standing in my way as I decided to embark on my journey this morning:

1. I had to get up. At 6.20am. BLEUGH!
   -This meant it was dark, my radiator wasn't on and getting out of the shower made me do the "warm up quickly before getting dressed" dance. It isn't endearing in the slightest, it's just silly. Anyway, getting up wasn't ideal, but having chocolate weetabix, bran flakes and an extremely sweet and strong coffee made me feel ready to face the rest of my challenges.
2. Getting suited and booted.
   - This required careful thought and planning indeed. Since I was going to be in a school, I had to wear: sensible shoes (Wellies, obviously, they're metallic NAVY), a sensible top and no jeans. I opted for many layers, ending in a navy jumper, but paired with leggings and tights so that I could cycle, and popped a full length, peacock-pattern skirt in my bag to change into after the journey, so that I looked smart. Also, I have no rear mudguard on my bike, so waterproofing was essential (I still ended up with a muddy bum, but only when I got home, so...).
3. The weather
   - Snow. Everywhere. Icy paths, unclear signs on the road and it was dark. Enough said.
4. The journey
   - I had no idea where I was going. Acomb was five miles away, why would I ever need to venture out there, as a student at the University of York, residing in Heworth (the opposite side of town)? Because I'm adventurer. Google maps told me to go a very convoluted way, into Heworth, but not through it, skidding around corners and down housing estates, past lots of other primary schools, across the river... but I made it. Thank God for Google maps and Smart Phones!! 

I spent a fantastic morning talking to ten, lovely nursery pupils, all of which were born in 2009/09, which felt VERY odd, being as that's when I was sitting my GCSE's and they were being born. Weird.

Being in a school instantly made me happy. For one, primary schools are colourful, and my brain is instantly awakened and excited by that. On top of that, the children were just exuberantly joyful because they were allowed to play in the snow and with the toys and ah! Seeing them just enjoying being themselves around each other made my heart so glad. Testing them was fun too because their responses were ever so creative and adorable and interesting, especially in terms of the assessment and interventions we were investigating.

It also reaffirmed that I would be ever so happy working in a school in general.

So, I mentioned that there'd be a second list. It's coming up. As I was cycling back, I was impressed that I hadn't faltered. I wasn't tired, cold, complaining, or even hungry. I'd prayed a lot about this adventure yesterday because I was honestly and genuinely apprehensive. Since I wasn't confident as to where I was going, how the tests were going to go, if the children would be compliant and if I would be able to cycle safely, I was worried to say the least. I had an early night to prepare and woke up feeling expectant. I tried to see where Jesus had been in my thoughts actions and how I'd been guided safely as soon as I travelled home. It blew me away a little bit as I cycled through Clifton, and my face was a beaming smile from ear to ear until I got home.

1. I got up and faced the day. God was with me in that because my heart felt happy to be awake. Usually, I'm a bit groggy, or even resentful that I've woken up. But I got up and thanked God for most this amazing day. I was able to feed myself, clothe myself, walk, talk and cycle. I, myself, know that I don't thank God often enough for these essentials, but I've been blessed by an amazing, privileged life, and so praise is most certainly due. I reflected on how Jesus didn't want to what God had commanded for him to do and shoved my wellies on without grumbling.

2. As I got dressed, it felt like I was layering up to face a battle. In an exterior sense, I was battling the elements. But it's just as important to know that you wear your spiritual armour every day, it's just a matter of noticing it.

3. I felt like completely not bothering when I went to bed last night; the weather was too bad. But then I would have really let myself and my colleagues down by making excuses. You can't make excuses with God. He knows you, inside and out. He presents challenges to you so that you can take them on. This doesn't mean He'll let you conquer them every time, but they're certainly there to be tackled. I almost gave up as I braked on the exit of our road this morning, but I took a deep breath and carried on. I knew the destination was in sight, and I wasn't giving up for any reason. Faith like fire will keep burning as long as you fan the flame.

4. Whilst I reached my destination, to the school and back home, I still have no idea where I will end up at the end of my life, and how the heck I will end up there. My journey with Jesus is an absolute rollercoaster; it hasn't always been smooth, not always uphill, not always following the safest path, not always the most conventional, but I am on a journey, and that in itself is exhilarating. There are points when I feel lost, but at the end of the day, I have to remind myself that it's okay to feel lost; it's all an adventure.

Sorry, blog, for neglecting you.

Tatty bye,

Haze

Exuberantly joyful

I was given one task: obtain equipment to make a poster. My last first year submission is an A1 conference poster on a research article. 'Yes I am doing a real degree' I reiterate, with glee, in answer to your scepticism. Educational Studies is important. Education with English, I hasten to add. Seizing this opportunity to wander the gorgeous streets of York on, this, the Queen's Jubilee Tuesday, I took the challenge, donned my boots and readied my purse for the adventure.

I knew I needed to get an A1 card backing and then thought I'd treat myself to getting some colourful sheets of A5 and A4 to emphasise key areas of the poster (blah blah slightly boring creative mind overflow) and maybe even save some as spare to make little origami experiments. So, tasked with this, I headed for Paperchase. I managed to get the right colours and a few more, £4-odd, not too expensive in the grand scheme of things. Chuffed. Until I came to pay, and casually asked if they had a cardboard tube for me to transport it in. Little did I know I would be repeating this noun phrase for the next half an hour repeatedly. They were selling them for £11.50. "Woah there" went my student, thrifty, Durham-born and raised, brain. I am not paying for a tube. I am my father's daughter. I will FIND one. I will BARGAIN for one. I will SCROUNGE one. I settled for the long, Paperchase bag with handles and battled with the wind, carefully carrying my card. This was not the end of the story, oh no.

I proceeded to dot about and around certain shops, such as WHSmiths, who were also selling them. Urgh. And that one was far too small. I popped into the Disney shop, which was adorable because the woman was lovely and said to go to HMV. So I did. No luck there either. "OOH, the Card Factory! They'll have things like that!" thought little ol' me. Suffice to say I was snubbed by one of the rudest employees I have ever met. She was stocking the shelves in a barren wasteland of a shop and noone else was disturbing her, so I asked, "Excuse me, I don't suppose you have any cardboard poster tubes do you?" (yes I did actually preface each asking with 'I don't suppose', I am English) and she didn't even look me in the eye as she shook her head, bowed it and mumbled "No, *cough* no we DON'T." and continued to slot the 'Happy 90th Birthday' cards into the podium.
At this point, I admit, I was loosing faith. Where else would stock cardboard poster tubes? As I fervently looked up and down the street, there were a number of phone shops, clothes shops and... PERFUME SHOPS. YES! That's the place to go! As previously mentioned, I am my father's daughter. This is probably news to you, but as a technology teacher, my Dad has a vested interest in design and used to collect perfume bottles from kind vendors for his displays at school. Sadly, things have changed and collections/ the importance of design inspiration has diminished at said-school, but I have retained in my head that 'The Perfume Shop' and the 'Fragrance Shop' are places with mild-mannered, pleasant smelling people who are willing to be sweet talked into giving people old bottles and bits and bobs to you if you ask them nicely. Some might say I have been trained well...
I went into both of these shops and my expectations were fully met, but I left with the new nugget of information that both shops had just got rid of all of their cardboard tubes and such yesterday. I was beginning to panic. What would I transport my finished poster in? I don't want to tie it with string and hand it in all battered now, do I?
I must have looked like a very windswept and baffled bean, fringe clipped back and eyebrows feverishly knitting together as I stood in the middle of the street with my cardigan sleeves slowly rolling back down my forearms.
There must be somewhere I can go! my little head-voice chirped at me.

Waterstones.

Yes. Where book enthusiasts and well-rounded people work. I walked in and was immediately greeted with a good sensation. This was the place. The man in the queue before me was buying a Scott Pilgrim book and I giggled to myself as I thought about my bright pink hair. Walking up to the counter, I brought out the well-rehearsed phrase and the man immediately blurted out "YES! I'll have a look in the ba..." and then he turned to his colleague, The second man began to shake his head. Oh no, I thought, this isn't it. I'm going home tube-less.

 "If you request one we can hold some back for you if you like? Wait, how many do you want? All of them?"

"Ha, oh goodness no, just the one please! That would be ace!" I stuttered back to him. His colleague was rather jovial but brought the tone down when he said "We might just have thrown them out..." Nonetheless, the first attendee decided to physically skip through the shop, into the back, and I told the second employee about how I needed it to submit my poster on Thursday and he was really rather lovely to chat to. The joyful man came back with two, cardboard tubes and my face lit up, as did his. "Here you go! Is this alright?"
I held up the Paperchase bag to measure the tube length and it was PERFECT.
"Thank you so much! You're a star!" I automatically  blurted out to him and he gave me the A1 sized poster tube. I was so glad.

It was as I walked out of Waterstones, beaming like an absolute buffoon that I began to feel utterly filled by a joyful spirit. My face just spread out into the widest smile, I was so thankful that the kind man had given me a chance and checked the store room, just on the off-chance that there might be something to fit my description. I was feeling a little bit down-trodden after my experience in the Card Factory, but this man restored my faith in simple deeds and genuine human compassion. It was in that moment that I realised where I'd been going wrong in my head over these past few weeks. A lot of my thoughts have been focusing on where I feel the Holy Spirit in my life. Amidst all of the 'first year submissions stress' I've been thinking a lot about spiritual gifts. It all made sense in that moment: the spirit anoints me with joy. Absolute, perfect, pure joy. All the time. I am constantly filled with the spirit, we all are. But it's in moments like the one I shared with the exuberantly joyful and helpful man in Waterstones that re-ignited my confidence in trusting that the spirit does in fact make me joyful. Happy to be alive, happy to receive gifts of kindness and compassion, happy to go that little bit out of my way to make my life an interesting story to tell aspects of to others.

Sorry I haven't written for a while. It's not like I haven't been doing things; I've been unfathomably busy! I thought it might be nice to just share a recent little story with you, whilst reminding myself that I do have a blog which I used to write with a vibrant passion for. That's a little bit sad but I'm finding more and more things are coming into and out of my life with every opportunity I take, so for that I am sorry, blog, that I have abandoned you. Never fear, I aim to have updated you at least once again before the end of the year.

Tatty bye,
Haze

Blogger's block

There are few things in life that give me greater satisfaction than wearing a new pair of socks.

I mean, I could make a list of things that make me happy, but what would the point of that be? I feel bad enough already having looked at the number of posts I've written this year compared to 2010... and it sickens me. So no slacking and writing about sappy little things that make me smile. Dive in and be honest about stuff Haze.

I feel awful every time I remember I have a blog and haven't written anything for it for an age.

The worst bit is, I've done a bunch of really cool things since my last post (which was a kind of retrospective one anyway) and I've even had another choir course since then too! I've been at home for almost a month now and it has been both great and super weird. When it comes to me and my family, weird is just kind of average for us. Not meaning to say that in a "we're so cool because we're weird" way, we really are just weird. Enough of that adjective, move on. Anywhooooo, it's been fab to be at home and surrounded by stuff happening all the time. Little walks to go on, jobs to help out with, sorting and tidying to be done. My sister and my parents make a great team and when we do cool stuff it's really ace. I'm so lucky to be part of such a great little unit. Recently, my Mum ordered me an ArtCard in the post, and I put it to good use last week as we went on a family adventure to London. It was a very different experience to our previous, pit-stop, tourist-style tornado holidays in London. We got the train down from Durham station, which was a joy because I LOVE TRAINS. We did all sorts of jaunts to galleries AND I met Fran 3/3 days we were there. Such a blessing to be in the capital where she is just jetting around, being a dance student. Amazing.

Prior to this, after a week of being home, I managed to book myself some tickets to go and visit Garreth in the depths of North West Wales. Now THAT train journey excited me. Not only was I in "independent mission mode" (when I am in this mode, I am literally unstoppable) but I also got to spend 5 days with my super-duper boyfriend and his parents when I reached my destination. So that was seriously brill. I even got sunburnt on the beach because the weather was so glorious! We also played Trivial Pursuit and it was really rather excellent. I am a general knowledge fiend. I am a bit sad that I haven't seen him since then, but I'll be all the more appreciative to see him again when I do, whenever that is. Booo.

I celebrated a wonderful, if a little mind-boggling and quite emotional, Easter with family in Leeds and won two Easter eggs at the Church raffle. It was such a precious time to be together and just being thankful, also remembering absent friends that it couldn't go amiss in this post. When big life events such as bereavements happen in life it makes you focus and forget all sorts of things. It shocked me into being alive in lots of respects, but also made me feel strangely old and kind of experienced in a way.

In other news, Elizabeth and I have done a fair amount of shopping for our newly rejuvenated, sophisticated wardrobes and this pleases me greatly. Some of the top items include a mind-blowingly colourful cardigan (inherited) and the most perfect pair of tan brogues known to man. Clothes make me very happy, especially when they're power outfits. You know, outfits that make you feel good, in charge and SUPER COOL. I am one of the lamest people, I know, but I really like clothes, so there. I'm sceptical of fashion, but observe minor trends. Oh, and set them too of course. Genuinely. This one time, Liz and I decided it would be cool to wear whistles for a summer, and what came into the Topshop jewellery range a month or so later? WHISTLES ON CHAINS. Just saying, I am a trendsetter.

Needless to say, I had the last laugh. I've been blasting through a few series online and I'm making the most of my Netflix free trial month, so you can take from that what you will about how I'm spending my time (most definitely inside).

I've just painted my nails pale blue with bees and trails so I'm a very happy bean right now.

Tatty bye,

Haze

My Musical Life

What a boring title. Come on Haze, sort it out! Interest your readers!

Then again, this is an honesty blog, right? Where I'm totally open, blunt and straightforward? So stuff it! I'll title it as I wish, and continue as I mean to.

Go on, I hear you plead!

It is coming to my attention more and more that our generation is one that focuses on musical judgement, taste and the ways in which we individually use music in different ways. I, for one, am horrendously guilty of judging 'popular' music and using it for 'background' music, much to my utter disappointment and I even shudder at the thought that I don't ENJOY a vast majority of music for what it is. I can be that terrible cynic of the latest club anthem because it's thumpy and generic and generally irritating to hear every other hour of the day. But I can often stop and appreciate its value as a place in musical history or development. It's still probably a load of codswallop in the grand scheme of things though. Still, if someone were to ask me what my favourite band was, I'd probably answer with the lamest of retorts: "I'm not really sure...probably The Feeling... or McFly" and be met with a backlash of judgement, terror and animosity. I used to be one of those cretins who used to say "ohh I like ALL MUSIC" which just makes me a feel a little bit ill looking back. I once heard someone say (it was probably on New Girl actually) that to say you love everything is to truly not love anything at all. If this is the case, then my favourite genre of music is most definitely Classical. Before I register that you have all officially switched off, changed tab or browser and have dismissed this rather opinion-laden ramble, please hear me out. To give a true reading of this blog some justice, tune in to 100-102 fm on a radio, if you can, and leave it on for as long as it may take you to read and digest this blog. Maybe get a cup of tea and a biscuit, I can feel it might be a long one. Make it a custard cream if you can. Oh and if it's the news bit or an advert break, just get back on with whatever you were distracted by before you stumbled across or clicked on this. Then come back!! (Please)

Thanks for that by the way, if you're genuinely reading this out of curiosity. Back on with the point of the blog!

This weekend I went home to sing for a rehearsal weekend with my Choir, (link to our fabby website which is super-swish and you can spot me in the pictures and that) who are exceptional in many ways. Firstly, I feel extremely lucky and privileged to even have been considered to be a part of such a wonderful project. Some of you might know that I've been a keen (it's all about enthusiasm... right?) singer from an early age, but by no means a 'proper' one- and certainly not a distinguished or even qualified one. Encouraged by instrumental lessons from the age of nine, music became a crucial interest for me and it's fair to say that the vast majority of my friends throughout school, and even now, are from ensembles and departments that exalted the virtues of musical involvement.

So, a vague re-cap of my 'musical life' as I like to call it, might lead me to begin with a list. Now, I love a good list. Here we go:

9 years old; started Clarinet lessons and sang in the junior school 'choir' as part of the Millennium opening of the Gala Theatre in Durham

11 years old; Secondary school education began. Joined 'girls choir/junior choir' in the second week of Year 7. NEVER. LOOKED. BACK. Our school's music department was notoriously known for digging its claws in and never letting you go. Still, I have no regrets about this.

12/13 years old: Took part in the school's production of Annie Jr. and was one of the principle orphans. Got to know one of my best friends in this production as she was Annie and I love her dearly.

Lets leave the ages alone and talk in more general terms, shall we?

Throughout secondary school I was involved in musical trips, ensembles and lessons which just kept proving to me that I enjoyed the involvement that music brought to myself as an individual and I was always encouraged to keep this up. I began playing the piano and thoroughly enjoyed learning how pieces of music themselves are pieced together and how "moments" occur. More on this later! Continuing with playing the clarinet, I joined the District Wind Band, progressed to Regional level and finished up at County Wind Band by Sixth Form time. I also joined a county-wide Clarinet choir called "Clarinetix" and I played one of two bass clarinets as part of that. As always, school music-department involvement continued and I joined the Senior Choir and the Chamber choir, performing at the Sage Gateshead as part of the Catholic Partnership concerts and being in my absolute element, thrice. Marvellous.

Most recently, I joined the Durham County Youth Choir in September 2010 because a few of my friends said it was great and I thought I'd give it a go after seeing them at the joint Sage concert for the Durham Music Service Showcase in the summer of the same year. I do not regret auditioning for DCYC one jot. It was one of the best things I was ever pressured into doing. Unbeknownst to me, a few of the people from DCYC had been selected to go down to London and begin a new choir, to soon work as part of the Gabrielli Young Singers Scheme with Paul McCreesh. In December, Hilary (the conductor of DCYC) invited me to go along with the oldest members of the choir to a new choir that was forming, and it was mind-blowing. It was almost certainly terrifying but thrilling all the same to be thrown in at the deep end, sight-reading Britten's "Rejoice in the Lamb" and three choruses from Handel's "Solomon". Still, I had been put forward to be in this choir because I had been identified as a quick sight-reader/singer and this certainly proved it. Prior to this rehearsal weekend, after being in DCYC for two weeks, I was asked to sight-sing a concert and managed remarkably well to do it. Phew! After a weekend of rehearsal with this new choir, we performed the pieces, I lost a cardigan (let's not go there, it's still a sore point, ok?) and made friends I would come to absolutely adore and cherish for many moments to come.

Here began my journey with John Forsyth and the North East Youth Chorale.

As previously mentioned, I had performed at the Sage with the Hexham and Newcastle Catholic Partnership scheme with school and this is where I first encountered John. I doubt he remembers me personally, but I will always remember him from that. He knows me by name now though ;) We sang the first movement of John Rutter's "Magnificat" and he sat at the front on his legendary, squeaky stool, in our school hall in front of numerous, terrified pupils who were mainly forced to be part of the choir and he belted out every part in his classic way, scaring us all a little bit. Needless to say, the performance was awesome and I love that piece very dearly as a result of that experience.

Life suddenly took a turn towards the extraordinary after I joined NEYC. If you want a less condensed version of the summer just passed's events than the one I'm going to give here (including non-musical activities) I'm going to refer you to THIS BLOG POST RIGHT HERE, which you can read at your leisure.

Summer happened like this: I SANG AT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL AND RECORDED A CD WITH MY CHOIR AND LOADS OF OTHER, PROFESSIONAL CHOIRS AND SINGERS.

IT WAS AWESOME.

The social side of it was fabulous, as was the insight into the hard graft and sheer workload that being in that side of the industry requires. Nonetheless, it was amazing.

So, back to my current state of affairs, yes?

This weekend, John really struck a chord in me (hahaha music pun, waahoo) when he was talking about living for moments. I live each day for moments, but musical moments are just somehow, supremely more precious. How often do you listen to the average, indie, metal or pop song and think "WOW!"? Seriously, do you ever? I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I do that, probably at all. There have been times, of course, when I've thought "this song is pretty epic, cool, niiiiice riff" or other rather vacuous things. For me, there is nothing quite like listening to a cheeky suspension or augmented fifth or something equally as nerdy in a Whitare or Brahms piece that literally makes every fibre of your being just FEEL. I'm not quite sure what or how it makes me feel, but it definitely puts me in my place. The vast majority of the music we sing with NEYC revolves around classical, choral works which usually involve Masses, Requiems or songs which exalt and glorify God and sing His praises. That in itself excites me greatly in a general sense, but when the music itself is just so exquisitely enjoyable and brilliant, it makes me beam from ear to ear to praise God to such beautiful music, and sung excellently might I add. Some of our choir are relatively agnostic or atheists, but they all partake in singing and are convincing in all manners when they sing the pieces, which I find incredibly interesting and a little bit baffling all the same. When I experience a "moment" in the music we sing, or even just when listening to Classic FM (which excites me greatly, because I'm such a nerd I recognise a great deal of 'things'- motifs, pieces I've played and even composers- and revel in that sometimes) I can't help but feel extremely small but somehow worthy. It's difficult to explain I suppose, but at the end of the day, I love it.

You should too.

Just a recommendation.

Give it some thought.

Tatty bye,

Haze

It's a brand new year...

... no new posts since JULY.

I am a bad blogger.

Hey, my posts used to be such quality. Remember when I got locked in the toilet? When I went to see Mika? When I spent brilliant days with Fran and my sister and talked about my Mother and Father and their hilarious personalities for posts and posts and posts?

Well... I went to Uni, and life has just blown me away. Obviously not literally, I'm still sitting right here, on the same laptop, just in a different city. That's right, I finally moved away from home! I hope that doesn't sound like "OMG I FINALLY LEFT HOME WEEEEEEEEEEW I'M PROPA BUZZIN' TO BE ON ME OWN LYK NOO MORE PARENTS YOU CAN'T TELL ME NOT TO BUY AND EAT POTATO SMILEYS AND JAMMIE DODGERS WHEEEE LET'S GAN MENTAL FRESHAAAAS".

Not at all.

The reality of it all is that I blast musical soundtracks from my room in the poshest halls on campus, jam on my ukulele a fair bit and paint my nails at least once a week with a new pattern/theme to make sure I still allow myself to have an artistic outlet. I also dyed the underneath of my hair bright blue, but now it's purple. News is news, whether 5 and a half months late... right?

I just got back from my food shop and necessary walk to Aldi and I was struck by how light I felt as I walked there. The sun was almost setting and Mumford & Sons "Sigh No More" was lightly propelling me along in my ears, protected from the wind by my cat hat.

I was totally at ease with just being. Bounding along with a considerable spring in my step, I must have looked agreeably quite mental but that didn't matter to me in that moment, nor does it really now.

I smiled at everyone who cycled or walked past and I felt a little bit giddy with my freedom and just generally really happy outlook. Just as elated on the walk back just several pounds more to carry weighing my shoulders down and causing my HUGE arm muscles to ache and it made me think of my Outward Bound expeditions.

I wasn't wearing anything special to make me feel chipper and good about myself. I was completely alone, all wrapped up with my rucksack on my back. I wasn't running, just plodding with the intention of going to Aldi and returning to my house. I wasn't even wearing make up.

Just a smile.

(well, I was wearing lots of clothes, it was flipping chilly today folks!!)

I hope my smile put a spring in someone else's step today, or any day. Even just another smile back is enough to make my grin widen and feel warm inside.

Honestly.

It was lovely to talk to you again, I have missed this a whole bunch.

Tatty bye,

Haze

My outlook on life

I sometimes get the feeling that people see me as an outwardly happy person and that in itself makes me physically display happiness often.

The truth is, I'm not. This isn't a "wah wah" post, I promise, but I think it's very true to say that even the most "bubbly" and even ostentatious people you will meet in your life are not happy constantly. I am one of those people who does really look on the bright side of life though, however hard it may be. Of course I have times where I can wallow, argue, moan and bemoan over minute details and most definitely cry my sorry little heart out... but moments like that are fleeting for me.

Sometimes I find it hard to define what keeps me going. Like actually, what on earth keeps me awake, keeps me quite literally alive and doing. Biologically there are explanations, yes, but that's a little bit tedious and is the same for probably everyone I know. Yet there is something startling in how a mindset can transform how others perceive you and how you can in fact perceive yourself.

I'm a great believer in confidence and showing it, but in small doses. Like being 'brave' enough to raise your hand at school or step forward to help a friend, or even a stranger, who has fallen or needs directions. I don't believe that boisterous confidence will get you anywhere that will matter in the long run. Attention seeking confidence or "loudmouth" confidence as I sometimes call it is just that, loud and often unnecessary, like openly talking about how much you had to drink last weekend and how much it cost you or stealing someone's spotlight and disregarding other people's roles in a team effort. It often comes across as bragging and you certainly don't look any better when all is said and done. What if someone remembers you just for that? How might that impact your own self-made impression? You are who you are in every moment of your life, whether dark or exceedingly bright and every impression counts. I wholeheartedly agree that in this life you have to be confident, but I find the lines of bravery and confidence are incredibly blurred and it can be all too easy to stray away into the grey areas of these ideas. I sometimes think of myself as a brave person because I 'grin and bear' a lot of things. Yet I find myself wondering if these 'brave' things I have overcome or moved on from have made me confident or not.

In the past few months I have decided to take many positive steps in my life and to embrace new things rather than sit any worry away possibilities. I am trying to maintain contact with people who I might never see again because I've left school and Sixth Form, but there will inevitably be people who I will leave behind through no fault of mine or theirs, it will happen. I want to embrace friendships, relationships, food, exercise, outings, reading, writing, singing, playing, walking and many other activities in my lifetime, let alone just this summer.

One of the main sort of 'principles' I live my life by is "Go Out And Live Life To The Full". When I was in Year 9 we had a school mission and this was the title of the whole week, centred around praise and worship but mainly realising that we all should actually "go out and life life to the full" and it struck a definite chord within me. The postcard from that week is right next to my bed with a lovely logo and it's right in my eye-line when I wake up every morning. I have a purple, rubber wristband that I sometimes wear to remind me that I have a wonderful life and everything I need is ahead of me and it will be full.

I am happy with how I look. I may flick my fringe and complain about my flushing, flaking, flipping annoyingly scarred skin but it's mine and it makes me... me. I have a figure which I have recently decided to love, to embrace and to work. It won't last forever, just like me, but I have the time now to make an impact however small it may be, if a smile or a cheeky little dance can cheer someone else up then I want to be that person. I don't want to drag any one down, I only want to build people up. If you surround yourself with people who, for one, build you up, you can do great things by building them up. They will give you strength to be who you are and who you want to be. I aim to be that person who can be relied upon to be happy, to share a smile, to be a shoulder to cry on, to be organised (sometimes) and to be willing to share as much love as I can. I can't say I am not guilty of casting people out of my life because I have done that but I know that I have grown from the experiences that have hurt and I will continue to do so by moving on. I am kind to strangers I meet who I may never see again because I hope to have the slightest positive impact in their lives. We meet so many people, see so many faces and we may never see them again and so I strive to make those flashes interesting by not shying away from helping or being cheerful in the face of a challenge. I'm not a violent person and yes, I can engage in conversations which can joke around such subjects, but the idea of hitting someone with force and inflicting voluntary pain is not something which I can condone in my head and in my heart.

Your sadness will not last as long as your happiness can.

I was going to end this post with the prayer that was written by the school for the Mission but I'll leave you with just this line instead to make of it what you will:

"Inspire us to use our talents wisely... so that we may go out and live life to the full as you intended."

Tatty bye,

Haze

Decision making and rain

I have decided that if you sit and wait for an "opportune moment", it's not going to happen. Not how you really wanted it to anyway. A moment is what you make it and then make of it.

Sometimes you just have to make the decision, make it fast and live it out.

I don't want to have to wait to make decisions any more. If I think it's right, I'm going to do it. If I know it's wrong, I am able to hold myself back.

In other news, we've had a big rain-flash-storm and it was exciting. I was sitting on my bed and just turned around to the window and thrust my arms in the air like "FLIPPING YES!! RAAAAIIINNN!!!"

I am so thirsty right now. I am finding myself becoming thirsty really rapidly these days and not so hungry as much. Oh well, going to go and eat some chocolate caramel bunnies and revise my socks off for these mocks (off).

Tatty bye,

Haze

Radio and music

I'm a big fan of the radio.

More on this later.

Now, like a lot of teenagers, I want to listen to "current" music and be in the know blah blah blah but I also feel like I fit a small part of the indie demographic that listen to vintage classics and invest time in seeking new music from all corners of... well the music-sphere. I wish I could have all the time and money in the world to totally immerse myself in wonderful new and old music, world music, cultural music, classical music, dubstep, film overtures... It's inspiring.

On Friday, Saturday and Sunday of this weekend I have been singing as part of NEYC (North East Youth Chorale) and our conductor, John Forsyth, is an incredibly passionate and inspirational (slightly intimidating but altogether lovely) person and was talking about how people are so unaware of awesome choral music and the wonders of lost music. It really hit me because I absolutely love a choral piece that strikes a note in you and you just think "yes, this has blown me away". For me, I have a lot of moments when listening to a variety of songs that are like that and I'm sure that lots of people everywhere have that too. It's just right, right? Of course pop music is pop music and classical music is classical music, that's just how it is, but there are so many people who exclude them from their lives and that really upsets me. Pop music is not just for the "commoners" or children or teenagers who need something to dance to or quote lyrics from on Facebook and classical music is not just for stuffy old people and choir conductors. Music is universal and I do not know of a single person who would be able to envisage a life without it. Mainly because I surround myself with musical people who, like me, have a varied musical catalogue and enjoy sharing their opinions and tastes.

My day yesterday was actually great. I felt so comfortable and happy about everything. We, as a choir, sang at a wedding. Getting the bus to and from Middlesbrough was absolutely brilliant, singing all sorts! Primary school songs...hymns... the classic rendition of the Hallelujah chorus because we're all polished singers who know it incredibly well... and reach the bit where it goes crazy with lots of different rhythms and we forgot the really words and gave up. It was actually hilarious and I couldn't stop smiling! We then went back to our little rehearsal hall and practised from 3-6 and it totally wore me out. Phew.

This morning I listened back to Morrissey's interview with Dermot O'Leary on the BBC Radio 2 i-player and their interaction was actually brilliant. I love them both a huge amount. Dermot's extreme enthusiasm for old and new music is truly infectious, bringing me onto why I love the radio.

Those moments when a song comes on that you actually love, so you can just turn it up, shout out the words and do a little boogie. Or when a new song comes on and you just think "Wow!" and when presenters are just hilarious (Alan Carr and Melanie Sykes, Sarah Cox, Gregg James, Nick Grimshaw... Scott Mills) they make the links just quality. I love how many FM channels there are, how there are specific programmes and stations that play specific genres of music and then the mainstream ones have playlists but then they sometimes play whatever the hell they want. There's also the not so musical channels like Radio 4 that broadcast insanely interesting (sometimes) debates and comedy and all sorts, like Thought for the Day and other brilliant, BBC things.

This also comes about on the day when Spotify has changed its stupid rules so that you can now only listen to a song 5 times on its "free" settings... HOW INSANELY LAME. Seriously. Not happy. That's where I discover new music... and of course I feel guilty for not buying things...but WAAHH I'M LAMENTING THE LOSS OF MY BACK CATALOGUES OF THINGS.

So, with this sudden loss I've had to revert back to being a total radio whore again and hopping the channels for those golden moments of musicality. This is what my life has become.

In a way I'm really sad that I can't be so devoted to new or old but nonetheless vibrant and exciting music as I want to be... but I can always try and I probably always will.

Here's to enjoying music more.

Tatty bye,

Haze

All is well

I'm finally better.

I'm happy with everything in my life.

I'm thankful for everything that is going how I would like it to.

That and Merlin is on BBC i-Player from the beginning again.

I have two weeks to watch that/do all of my work set for the holidays...

I shall let you know about my week ahead when it has been, dearest blog, I may have exciting tales to recount here, you never know!

Tatty bye,

Haze

Well, how about that, ey?

I just switched on my old phone because I remembered it was there, and it is still full of texts and pictures and conversations from years gone by. Well, just last year and 3 years previous to that, but it's a big chunk of my developing years and it's full of stuff that I probably won't remember unless I look back at it every now and again. Anyway, I might use it for OBU this summer because it's all battered anyway and if I swap SIM cards it'll work fine.

I'm sorry if this has been short or boring or not as panda coffee as my other, past posts, but I don't have any hilarious stories to tell at the moment. I spend a lot of my time blogging little things on tumblr and as a result I rarely have things to talk about on here. I don't have a lot of "spare" time inbetween working and keeping in touch with people these days, and the portions of time I used to have to spend crafting and writing a stream-of-consciousness blog post are used to now do work and read more and learn about the little things.

I will not abandon this blog. When my life gets kick-started after my exams, I will be doing things like dyeing my hair and making videos and writing and reading and making clothes, all being well, and those things need to be documented, so hold tight!

Tatty bye,

Haze

Last post: 8th Jan

There are pictures I should have taken, songs I should be singing, writing I should be crafting, dresses I should be wearing, friends I should be talking to... and I need to start making good decisions again.

There are children riding their bikes up and down my road outside, and it's sunny and they are happy.

I don't know how to explain just how sad this makes me feel. In one way, I'm sad because I want to be out there, and I can't be. Well, I could be, but I'd just be taking another step towards failing my A-levels, one of the last of those steps being choosing to write a blog as a little break from writing numerous essays. Oh, that doesn't make sense because it's more typing, so more finger/brain work and not a break at all.

That's just how I roll. I either reward myself when I shouldn't, or work until I am completely worn out, dry and useless.

It's been a strange two months. I had a lot of time off school, and I'm still making up for that. I watched the entire season of Firefly and am reaching the point of utter heartbreak that it got stopped. I visited my friend Fran's church twice and had a great time at both events.

I found out that the reason I felt so awful (last post) was because I most likely had swine flu. JOY OF JOYS!!!!

I am feeling happy though. Despite being mainly disappointed and not really SAD about a lot of things (like the sunshine which is currently unavailable to me) I am writing words and stringing thoughts together. Yesterday, my Mum and I popped to T.K.Maxx to browse dresses for events in the near future which need purchasing, and I ended up getting a Shakespeare Red-Nose-Day shirt, a floral skirt, a cropped little lacy/floral vest thing and a Comic Relief tote bag, which I aim to use for school, my other school bags need washing out. My rucksack has a disturbing amount of clutter/dust/smushed chocolate raisins lurking in the bottom of it...

So, those clothes are making me feel like I can dress up better and feel ... better. I go through this phase really rather a lot. Buy something new, start using it, start to feel more confident, I can be this change, I can stick with this, I will be out-going and loveable.

I feel so awfully guilty for neglecting this outlet. It really is good for me, to babble on, and hearing the children outside enjoying the sunshine just made me think that I should at least try to let something out here, even if only Liz, Mum and a few other people may stumble upon this, after months of barren blog space.

I will take those pictures, I will sing those songs, change that noun phrase, wear that dress with that lipstick I found, talk to that person who is fascinating more often.

Tatty bye,

Haze

Actually terrified

I've never been more scared in my life, up until this point, right now.

I've been really ill these past few weeks, since my last blog actually, I haven't recovered. I've tried a lot of things, including pure rest, interspersed rest, Lord of the Rings, spaghetti hoops, banana custard, going back to school, not singing, singing, reading, fainting, chick flicks, owls, tumblr, avoiding poo-heads on facebook, Josh Groban, Il Divo, translating spanish lyrics, The Smiths... and it hasn't worked.

The last thing I've tried was this "Manuka" honey, which tastes like honey which has been spread on a primary school crash mat and then been scraped off, put into a jar, and the lobbed on a spoon and shoved in my mouth. Sounds tasty right?

But why am I scared?

I'm terrified that I'll push myself over the edge. I just want to do well so hard, so much, that it's beginning to really startle me. I'm always tired, always worn out, on the brink of a cold, catching something, feeling a tickle in my throat, singing about something, laughing with Rachel about things that other people don't understand...

To top it all off, I'm just worried that if I don't take this time off here to get better, here and now, I will never be better. I will always be ill. It will get worse. I'll never catch up on all of this work and my A-levels will crash and I won't have anything to aim towards.

So, as of next week, I'm logging out of facebook (deactivating) and logging out of *whispers* tumblr. I'm planning my nights so I can do all of this work, and an exercise routine because I feel like my immune system is screaming DO SOMETHING YOU LAZY IDIOT.

I'm going to dedicate myself to music, work, creativity and reading. I'm going to think more, dream less about stairs (oh my gosh, massive freak out, I am petrified of stairs), be nicer to people, and make better lists.

Also, I'm going to try my hardest not to shank the living daylights outta you, because I'm moving on, and that is the best thing in the world for me.

Ignorance isn't bliss, familiarity still enters contempt.

Catch you lot on the flipside when I'm better, ok?

In the meantime, I promise to try to stop worrying about being so lonely and devoid of stuff, I'm surrounded by utterly gorgeous and generous friends and family who have been very supportive. I do feel very safe, I'm just a massive worrier.

Tatty bye,

Haze

Seriously but not serious at all fun times!

Ok, so you may or may not know that a very good friend of mine lives in a castle. Oh yeah, and not a namby pamby one either, it's a legit castle.

So we had this concert, right? It was cute, and by candlelight, and it was John's birthday. Castle Man John. 18 and all of that jazz! So, what do the kids from choir do?

CELEBRATE CHEZ SAID CASTLE DE JOHN!

Finish the concert, nip to Tesco for party supplies like pizza&pop, and get layered up. This castle was chozzen (that's VERY cold, like 4 degrees, the temperature of your FRIDGE man). I travelled with Rachael, Liz and parents, but only Rachael and I got out of the car at the castle gates. Oh , this even sounds fun, does it not? IT'S A FREAKING CASTLE!!!!!!!!!!

We got there, safe and ready for cold conditions, dumped our bags in the ballroom and set up a badminton net and staging. As you do. Musical escapades ensued, lovely, funny conversations, huddling together, talking to new people from choir, everyone together. Brilliant! Badminton, pizza transportage, cold hands, sleeping bags, boys wearing sports bras, impressions of our conductors...

Then once the food and beverages were demolished and many people were complaining of numbness in their limbs due to the cold, we decided to head upstairs into the living quarters bit of John's house, where there was heat, more food, more beverages, and not very much space, well, in the kitchen for the 20 of us anyway. 5 people left, and it soon became 2 a.m.

No problem for me, I am hardcore. A few energy beverages (I am fond of that term) inside me, caffine, happy feelings kicking around my body, I was having a great time. A few people had snuggled up next to the wood burner, and I don't blame them.

When the clock struck 3:30 am, the boys and a few of the girls decided to go on a walk to wake them up some more. They were gone for...ooh, at least an hour, and three of them, about 2 hours. Apparently, they managed to get to this ice cave that smelled like decay and would be the perfect place for hiding bodies etc. Creepy! Anyway, the other three (boys, duh) decided to go SLEDGING. AT 4 AM.

GOOD. BOYS. INDEED.

John smashed a sledge in half because, get this, they were sledging on an iced over GOLF COURSE. Yes, that's right, living on the edge. So each of them returned injured, bruised, but full of cheer, absolutely. More people had curled up in sleeping bags and coats by now, because Pippa and I had laid out cushions for a sweet little lay down in the middle of the kitchen, where it was warm and lovely. Conversations flowed, 5 am came and went, rice with butter was served, pizzas were found and eaten (more, obviously), Eleanor ate MAYONNAISE with her rice. I think we can *all* see that as just plain wrong. Anywhoo, we put Shrek 2 on, and it got to 6 am and I was restless as were Lewis and John so we talked some more and Lewis finally got changed out of his concert uniform, after having been SLEDGING in it! We then pottered off downstairs to play some badminton to stay awake.

I absolutely THRASHED them ladies and gents. So much so that Lewis actually split his pants trying to dive to hit my slam shot. LITERALLY RIPPED THE CROTCH OF HIS JEANS DOWN ONE SIDE, TO HIS KNEE. His knee! It's fair to say I was absolutely bent double with laughter at this point, with a splinter in my foot which I successfully removed safely and effectively later. When we decided we were awake enough, we went back upstairs and John and Lewis found a stuffed pheasant. They put it next to Lav so that when he woke up he just stared at it and smelled it, and looked disappointed. We were expecting him to hug or cradle it or something!

Anyway, Shrek 2 finished, it was loud and people were fidgety, so John made tea and put West Side Story on, and before I knew it, his parents were up making us a cooked breakfast and I had lost my shoes and Lav was fast asleep, and Robert Bass was sleeping in my sleeping bag looking like the most adorable little man ever, and emerged looking like a vole. It was SO CUTE, I do adore Robert! He's 13 and so lovely, awww what a lovely boy! Rachael somehow STILL slept though this, and Conor managed to wake up, people gathered blankets and layers of clothing, Charles had a freshening shower and we began to make our ways home.

I gave John a musical box card that played Happy Birthday, and he said it was the highlight of his day. He had not witnessed the ripping of Lewis' trousers or his high-speed golf course terrain manouvering on ice yet, but it was lovely to see him so pleased!

I'd like to thank his family for being so welcoming and caring, and here's to many more years John!

I was one of the hardcore 4 who hadn't slept a bare wink ALL DAY, and managed to from 9:00am to 11:20, I was very pleased. Congratulations to Eleanor, myself, John and Charles.

Elitist Castle Party Goers.

Anyway, I should probably catch up on this insane loss of sleep right now, yes?

I shall go and do that.

Oh, and I've *really* lost my voice. It started on Saturday at *that* concert, and yesterday/this morning totally erased it. Gone, poof. It sounds like I'm choking on gravel and gasping for air when I speak. It's also quite painful.

Tatty bye,

Haze

Overused word will be overused in this post

SO!

I have this huge blogging guilt. I've started like three accounts of things that have happened recently, and then I got really sad all of a sudden and couldn't finish writing it. Then, I started another document, and left the computer station at school and came home, terminating that little writing session. I'll dump that story here and now:

The 25^th November, is officially a snow day. Here, in Durham, we have about 4/6 inches of snow. Yet, I’m still in school. Technically, I have nothing to do in this lesson, so I decided I’d finally write something for you lot to read. If you still do of course. We’re discussing how rubbish Twilight is, and the pathetic nature of Bella as a protagonist. GO KATNISS AND HERMIONE!!!!!! Now it’s Christmas. I’m getting really excited; my Textiles teacher for theory is a super supporter of the Christmas spirit, especially in light of this flurry of snow.

On Tuesday, something really funny but also quite terrifying happened to me. I went to Reading Group (normal, perfectly) but didn’t have any time to get to the toilets or anything, so I ran to tutor, dumped my bags and went to the toilets under the stairs in the languages block. As I walked into the toilets, I saw a lot of flour on the floor. This was weird, even though I know Year 8 Girls hang around in there and eat food (super minging). Yet, they're still messy, and had spilled a whole bag of flour down a toilet and all over the floor. I did a little wretch and went into the disabled toilet at the end, because it's the only one that ever has toilet paper. I heard someone open the door and say "there's flour everywhere" and then the door closed. I came out of the cubicle, washed my hands and went over to the drier, avoiding the flour patch. After laughing to myself and my little head-made reference to Barbershopera III (innefective hand-driers), I made my way to the door. Grasping the handle, I pulled it towards myself with adequate force to open it and let myself out of the flour pit. Alas, the door did not swing, not even an inch. (An inch is quite a lot actually). Repeating the door opening movement, I repositioned my feet, and tugged at the handle some more. Locked. In. The. Floury. Toilets. FOREVER. I looked through the frosted glass of the door and thumped on it. "HELP! I'M IN HERE!" I shouted, really rather lamely all things considered. Thankfully, our technician walked down the stairs and heard me banging against the door. "Thankyou!" I cried, mercifully wanting to say "YOU HAVE SAVED ME, WHATEVER CAN I DO TO THANK YOU ENOUGH?", but I just left it at that. Mel (the technician) tried to kick the door down for me. I shouted back "It's locked man! Don't try!" and he escaped to go and get someone with a key. It turned out that Mr.Dodds had locked them up, and what with him being a member of male staff and all, didn't go in to check if anyone was still in there, and just LOCKED THE DOOR ANYWAY. I left the floury-pit feeling a little shaken, and only told two people about my strange adventure, feeling quite shocked really.

(Just as a little note, it has taken me so long to write this blog during today, that the sun has naturally set and I was plunged into darkness, a sign that my work really does need to be done soon. So, being me, I continue to write the blog...)

As I sit here, my feet are getting considerably colder, and I'm at my little work station. That is, I've closed the lid on my electric piano, and plonked the laptop on it so that I have a desk area rather than a bed where I am liable to just stick videos on and snooze. Failing that, whack an awesome Spotify hour or so on and get in a right musical trance. A jazz trance.

I apologise, I'm sitting and watching little snippets of the wonderful "Mighty Boosh" just because it is purely amazing, and it's making me feel really happy. I'm surrounded by wonderful music, and the snow is starting to thaw. I'll probably be at school tomorrow, so seeing human faces (other than my parents) will either cheer me up or make me more morose. Today has felt like I have been on the edge of a certain feeling all day. When I woke up, I was just moody, and then watched the episode of Hollyoaks with Steph's funeral and CRIED SO MUCH. I can't believe she just... stood in the fire and was like "I'm ready to die". I don't watch it anymore, but gosh, there are so many new characters and relationships and FUNERALS going on, it was really difficult watching. I then progressed into my bedroom, did some drawing which was rubbish and I'm not going to include in my project, listened to some fairly normal music and got bored of its... well average ability to not make me go "Wow this is beautiful music", so I felt sad about contemporary music's failings there. I ate some lunch with family, watched a programme about extreme fishing and laughed a fair bit, had some tea, played some piano which made me really happy, and then set up my little work station. Music since then has made me sink into a little bubble of content. That's about it really.

I hope everything is well wherever you are, I have an horrendous tickly chest cough which makes it difficult to laugh and consequently breathe, but there's nothing like braving the Arctic conditions outiside to get to school next week to cure it! Right?

Tatty bye,

Haze

That boy had really pretty shoes on

My weakness is that I fall in love... with shoes too easily.

Heck, I have a lot of weaknesses, and don't we all, but this my friends, rules over all.

One Pair to rule them all,
One Pair to find them,
One Pair to bring them all
and in the darkness bind them.

Sorry, I had a break there, real time, just stocking up on GIFS for the future...

Wait no. I was totally going to write a really nerdy little account of my day, and how some people suck and how I travelled by myself and had a lovely piano lesson.

But then I read this : http://owlcityblog.com/2010/10/25/my-hope-is-found/

and I have been sitting here and crying for 10 minutes.

He is an amazing man, writing honestly, and I really admire him.

I can't say much else now.

Tatty bye,

Haze.

I wish I was an Owl.

Today, I had a lonely day, but not for long.

On Friday, I spent the day on a coach, travelling to and from London. We went to see Birdsong on the West End, starring Ben Barnes, and it was rather fantastic. I wasn't totally convinced at the start, but I guess it's hard to begin such a play without being...stilted.

The theatre experience itself was something different... i.e. we met and awfully rude woman and Laura had an allergic reaction and I became a misanthrope.

We got back to school at 4:00 a.m.

Bed for 4:30.a.m (brushing teeth, removing make-up and constricting high-waisted skirts)

Awake at 10:30 because Mother knocked and asked if I wanted to book tickets for 19th November... FOR HARRY POTTER. Silly question, even when I was lying on 6 hours of jumbled up coach sleep. With that booked and dusted, I went back to sleep for an hour or so, and woke back up again when the Mother entered once again to tell me that she was going to go and see Made In Dagenham with Dad and I was being left alone for the day.

Still, I had my own plans, so everything was fine.

I roused from bed, washed my face and made some scrambled egg on toast. Just the one egg, I wasn't feeling that adventurous. I watched some of BBC Switch, and saw that Jimmy is now presenting it properly, and that made me smile. I then went about checking my emails and trying to watch the new episode of Glee, but it's nowhere to be found...

I got dressed after my shower and dried my hair, giving up after 10 minutes. It's such a horrible length. I don't want it cutting, and I do want to grow it, but gosh, it's such a MESS.

A trim of the fringe is in order.

Once I was ready to go out, I closed to windows and the inside doors, and went to check my bag. No keys.

Table? NO KEYS.

Rucksack? NO KEYS.

Floor? WHERE ARE MY KEYS?

Coat? SERIOUSLY, WHERE ARE YOU, YOU CHEEKY LITTLE KEYS!?!

Bag from Cadets?

GET IN MY HAND, IN THE LOCK AND OUT OF THE HOUSE.

I saw the bus go past me as I walked, listening to The Arctic Monkeys.

Still, the next one arrived early, and all was well.

I met Ira outside the Gala, bought tickets for "

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole"

and ventured off in the direction of food. We went to La Tasca for tapas, and I had some chicken and prawn paella, mushrooms and fried potatoes, all for £7.50. Deal.

Over the road from La Tasca is a new little shop called "Wild and Funk" and it was so beautiful inside. However, we both decided the name was a little bit abrupt, and should be called "Wild and Funky" but, hey ho, it was next to Jack Wills.

I bought Alice a present from there, and got a little white bag for it :)

Then, we saw our film.

It was beyond adorable, such a poignant storyline, and many lovely quotes to be taken away in my head. Also, I did a little chair happy dance when the soundtrack by Owl City graced my ears. Beautiful.

I think I shall ask for the CD soundtrack for Christmas, it's gorgeous.

I'm feeling rather happy now, Merlin's about to be on.

I might go and fetch some sort of snack-y-type food, but I'm feeling rather warm and tired, and Bradley James' face is too lovely to leave this chair.

Tatty bye,

Haze

p.s. THE TRAILERS IN THE CINEMA ARE THA BEST EVAAAAAAAAAAAA (Harry Potter and Narnia)

I don't do sadness

Yes, it has been a long while since I last wrote a blog.

This has been due to a few things.

Mainly, not having a spare hour to dedicate to thinking and writing, and then the added complication of having diddly squat interesting things to talk about.

This weekend... these things have evidently changed, allowing me to, y'know, talk at you through this blog.

I've had a really lovely two days. It's been one of those weekends (so far) where I have been able to think. It's also been one of those "eye opening" weekends.

Basically, I have found out that I really can't BUY things. I'm such a bad shopper.

I went into Boots today, to buy a drink and some hair product, because I was craving both, not of equal need, but still. Boots was there, I was there, the items were there. I had some LEGAL TENDER to spend, and the time was right. I picked out the only pot of blue hair putty, and some still Vimto (I don't think I could have handled the intense bubbles they somehow pack into the fizzy stuff) and headed to the counter. Now, at this point, please consider I was not empty handed to begin with. I had been to band in the morning, and carried my Clarinet with me into town, as Mum and Dad (who usually pick me up and I am allowed to leave it in the car) were dropping Liz back to Lancs-land with a car full of her living equipment. So yes, I had a Clarinet in one hand, a bag over my shoulder, and a bottle and a pot in the other hand. I then had to negotiate removing my purse from my bag, in the queue. I managed, just. Then I was able to free up a paying hand by handing the items over to the cashier, and then fumbled around for my tender. The woman then struck me. No, not literally, we don't have violent cashiers in Boots here. Well, as far as I'm aware. Ross quit his job. ANYWAY!

The woman said "Do you know these are on two for one?" and shook the pot of blue gloop at me. I was dumbfounded. Words were not escaping my lips. I was still holding my Clarinet. I genuinely didn't know what to do. I looked around, and Rachel wasn't there. Oh, I probably should have mentioned that I wasn't alone in this, Rachel had wandered into Boots with me, she had just left me in the queue to look at make-up, and expected me to, well, you know, be responsible enough to manage a simple situation. It didn't happen.

So, I was faced with a question. I managed to speak an "Oh, right" and then an awkward pause followed. I pulled the "I KNOW I SHOULD BE ANSWERING BUT THIS IS PHYSICALLY DEBILITATING ME " face, and stammered; "I'll just go and have a look then", and winced, producing a sort of smile. The woman then said "I can go and get one for you if you like :)" and I just went "ehakALDAKJF Oh it's ok, I'll go and pick a colour" and proceeded to fetch myself some purple hair spray. That got scanned and I was still carrying my Clarinet and purse. I was then faced with paying for these goods. Whenever I have to pay for anything, I always worry that I don't have enough money. That at some point, I have lost all of the money I have checked to see if I have, and that because I get flustered easily, that I'll mess up paying, and the cashier will be like "Why is this girl paying with a lump of blu-tak and some pills?"

So, I was worrying about money, and I saw the price flash up on the little screen, and it said "£5.61" and I had £5 between my fingertips.

"IT'S NOT ENOUGH" my head screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!"

Rather coolly, I whipped out a crisp £10 note, and let it be.

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT HAZEL?" my head said back to me, "YOU'RE GOING TO BE OVERLOADED WITH CHANGE NOW!"

The reason why I didn't hand over my £5 note and a pound coin in the first place was because I was concerned that I wouldn't have enough money for the bus. Which was silly, because I clearly DID have enough money, I just got all flustered by the woman's question, and my free item and being in Boots and having to find Rachel afterwards, and I still had my Clarinet.

The woman gave me my change and a receipt and then asked me if I wanted a bag. Now, a bag would have been ideal really, but no, I said "I don't need one, thanks" because I'll pollute the environment using a bag. So I grabbed my items, and made sure I had my Clarinet and purse, and headed out of the cashier range to find Rachel. She was waiting for me, and I crouched down to try and ram the items in my handbag, and ended up carrying my bottle of Vimto and my Clarinet, safely, without the aid of a carrier bag.

SUCCESS!

No, I was not allowed to succeed of course, this was me. Since my hands were full, I had to open my bottle with one hand, and the top of the bottle between my arm and chest. I then drank from it with the lid off until I was able to put my Clarinet down and use TWO hands to put the lid back on without sloshing it down myself.

It sounds like an ordeal, and I did just deal with it, but looked really silly whilst doing so.

You can only imagine what it must have looked like. Yes, fairly ordinary, but clumsy nonetheless.

That's pretty much all that happened yesterday, apart from watching Merlin and editing a video.

I'm listening to the soundtrack from Spring Awakening.

It's FANTASTIC.

I went to see it on Friday with one of my best friends Francesca and it was truly amazing. Such talent, and such a stark performance.

Yeah, naked bums.

GIGGLE, but it was hard-hitting.

I'd love to work in theatre, whether acting or helping to produce and direct.

We've all got to have a dream.

I dream of being able to buy things without worrying so much.

Amongst other things.

Maybe I'll save those for another day, when you haven't already been bombarded with a load of weird already floating around in my head.

Tatty bye,

Haze

Enthusiasm vs Melancholy

Currently, I am fighting a battle of wills.

Do I:

1) Write my essay

2) REFRESH TUMBLR ENDLESSLY

3) Give in to listening to all of my showtunes and Glee songs on my Zen, blasting out through the speakers and pretend I'm in an empty theatre, on the stage, singing and having a FANTASTIC TIME

4) Imagine I'm at Leeds festival by listening to Radio 1 and then realising I'm not that sort of person anyway

5) Watch a film, a new one, that I haven't seen (SHERLOCK HOLMES)

6) Sit and play Bubbletown until I finish it (Gahh this is so tempting)

7) Write my personal statement

8) Read my set texts

9) Read Vampirates and other assorted fictions (this is a very LONG list)

10) Shut up and drive?

(last one is a lie, I can't drive. Yet. That's a scary thought, I applied for my provisional licence last week.)

My final option, really, is to sit and feel a little bit melancholy. It's such a wonderful word to use in everyday language, but it makes me think of poor Jacques from As You Like It, and my, he's a troubled but wise soul. My train of thought then chugs off to how much I love studying English, and Shakespeare's plays, and being in theatres and the thrills of performance.

I then arrive at the desolate station of my desk. It is tidy now, but has been rehoused in another area of my bedroom. The lid is down on the piano, and it has become a perfunctory desk. With two, half written essays lying upon it. Oh no, don't think me a sensible member of the education system at all, these are two essays... upon the same title. They just need to be compiled properly. Yes, put together. In other words, written correctly, but I'm finding it hard to put aside my sense of freedom and gay abandon, and actually sit down and write the blasted thing.

I did make a very sturdy start to it, with enlightening sentences and broad insight, but I was just put off by an overpowering sense of... well, melancholy.

I was enjoying a cup of tea, using my fabulous little individual teapot that I got for my birthday, like this one

but it has little cakes covering it, and the sensation of loneliness swept over me. I am often happy in my solitude, and as our family takes their places in their individual dwellings of solace as the days draw on, it becomes interesting to observe, but ever so lonely to be a part of. The funny thing is, I'm a part of it, because I also go off by myself, but we're all apart in the house. Ha, that is funny.

Don't misjudge me, I do often like to be alone, but the sensation of being lonely is not a pleasant one. As I felt this, I found myself drawn to clean my desk, sing along to some music, and break away from my essay. Exchanging a few pleasant words with my Mother as I walked in and out of the kitchen with cleaning fluids reassured me that I am not alone in this world.

The only thing I am ever alone with are my thoughts.

Tatty bye,

Haze

(p.s. If you noticed that the option of "write a blog" was not in my list at the start, well done you. From this, you can take the piece of knowledge away with you that I am not the sort of person who does what she should, when she should. However, this does not mean I am a total rule breaker. All in all, I can produce the goods, but do well at procrastinating along the way.)

McFly

Goodness gracious me.

Now that I consider myself to be back on the blogosphere, I couldn't help myself when the opportunity arose to blog about this band.

I really like them. Yes, they are a manufactured boy-pop band, but I, personally, have really taken to their music. It's got a pleasant balance for me, and the acoustic songs are really well written. They clearly love doing what they do, and I'm all for supporting them.

On another hand OMGTHEY'REBEAUTIFULAPARTFROMTOMFLETCHER'SCHINBUTICANLETTHATSLIDEEVENTHOUGH

HARRYCAN'TREALLYDRUMANDHASAFUNNYFACEDOUGIEISLOVELYBUTGOINGOUTWITHFRANKIE

ANDDANNYISJUSTFANTASTICITHINKHE'SMYFAVOURITEANDTHEYACTUALLYCHANGEDMYLIFE.

Fact here for any of my interested readers:

They did legit. change my life.

I'm not just saying this! Honestly, hear me out.

I am a fangirl, but not an obsessive one. True, if I'm having a bad day, evening, turn of mood, I listen to them, blare out the tunes and scream along, with tears often streaming down my face. On the other hand, I do not have a SHRINE to them. I own all of their music to date, and a few pictures and fliers on my wall, a t-shirt... you know, average fan-stuff. I've never posted stuff on a website or made a video, but I would like to do a proper cover one day... nevermind!

The fact of the matter is, I really like them as a band.

What do people do when they like a band? They try and see them live.

When did the opportunity arise for myself, Liz, my mother and Jen to go and see them?

8th November 2008.

Do you know what I did?

I double booked myself for this night. That's right, the drama mounts.

(Note, I keep pressing enter and making new paragraphs for effect. It's not really working, but it makes me happy to press the enter key.)

I had previously booked the tickets for the Radio:ACTIVE tour, at Newcastle Metro Arena, and I was pretty pumped for that. I then went on an international selection weekend with Guides, and got put forward for North East Selection. I could have gone to Flamboree, or AUSTRALIA.

Alas, I did not. I opted to go to SEE MCFLY.

THEY WERE AMAZING.

I stood on the seats and sang at Danny's face and they were so close to us it was fantastic.

A few evenings before that, I talked to Denise on the phone about International Selection, and how I had tickets for McFly.

She dutifully told me that North East Selection wasn't right for me, and put me onto the Canada trip.

This summer, I toured around Canada with a group of 14 amazing, caring and wonderful Guides from Darlington and Durham South, and I am proud to say I had the time of my life.

All thanks to McFly, and me refusing to go to North East Selection... BUT ALL THANKS TO MCFLY, THEY CHANGED MY LIFE.

FACT.

Point of this blog: I don't think I like their new song. It is destroying me how they have turned all commercial and mainstreamy-pooey-backbeat-autotune-clubbbbbbb-banger-tune.

No complaints about the photos though.

Tatty bye,

Haze