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