A Day in the Life of a Revision Hermit

I don’t usually consider myself as somewhat of a hermit.  Like any other teenager, I go out with my friends, have a laugh and enjoy being in the company of others.  But in the blink of an eye, that disappeared and I was inside the house, fresh air and daylight being a distant memory.  A force that I was powerless to overwhelmed me, controlling my every move like I was a robot, a machine designed for one sole purpose. I knew they would come around, of course they would- there’s no escaping the sudden regimentation they gave my life.  This regimentation fired up from the realisation.... that my exams were in one week and consequently, I became a revision hermit.

Whilst I am aware that a ‘revision hermit’ cannot be defined by the Oxford dictionary- or any dictionary for that matter- I think that it should be under the subheading ‘revision’ as a noun that can be defined as ‘A person who structures there life entirely by revision so that they do almost nothing else, leading up to a form of examination.’ I think this because at some point, people experience the feeling of being a revision hermit, the feeling that exams are dominating their lives and should in all seriousness, have a way of voicing their feelings.  Some may be revision hermits through ‘cramming’ two days before their all important exam, whereas for me, it was the complete opposite.

On a day where I told myself I would do revision... I would do revision.  Like being at a military boot camp, I would be very strict with myself, remembering that revision was my priority and had to somehow get into the mindset that ‘EastEnders’ could wait. Of course I gave myself breaks where I would sit and eat the entire contents of my kitchen, but thoughts about revision would linger like a bad smell.  After a mini feast usually consisting of an assortment of delicious biscuits, the sergeants’ whistle would blow in my mind and it would be back to the cave I would go.  Apart from times where I would emerge from the darkness, going out with my friends or family, up until my exams I took part in a mixture of cramming and doing productive revision that left me in an almost zombie like state.

I could rant about the government not giving us an official study leave; I could also rant about how our exams are all grouped together so that we have to revise for what feels like a million exams in one week.  However, I believe that we live in a society fuelled by examination and pressure, pressure that is unnecessary and can leave us feeling like we need to be constantly achieving.  Being young is the time to have fun; we have limited responsibility, aren’t tied down by a job or a marital commitment and should be enjoying our lives whilst learning about it as we go along.  Examination is necessary and is right, but sometimes I feel as though we are tested too much and that we are made to think that our whole future depends on exam results, when they are only a small part of what will shape us as a person.  Employers want to know what we are like as people; they want to see what we have to bring to their line of work besides a string of letters known as our qualifications.

I am not proud that I became a revision hermit, oh no.  Now that my exams are over and I am literally free, I have had the time to reflect on what I was like so that I can in some way, help others that become engrossed by revision to the extent that they become a ‘revision hermit.’ For this reason, I have created below, the Mullaney Mini Guide to Revision Hermits.

You know you are revision hermit if:

1.      Your thoughts are consumed with mostly revision and the work you should be doing.

2.      You don’t want to go out as much in the fear that you are wasting revision time.

3.      You read this article and think; I am just like how Sarah was.

You can stop being a revision hermit by:

1.      Doing work in half an hour slots and giving yourself good, fun breaks with some lovely FOOD!

2.      Giving yourself something to look forward to.... even if it is catching up on the latest EastEnders.

3.      Remembering that exams aren’t everything and you should be out there living and enjoying life.

As I sit here typing away on a day where I would normally be at school if I hadn’t have left, it gives me comfort to know that time is now on my side as I have months until I am to start preparing for AS exams, meaning that for now my inner revision hermit has no opportunity to surface.  Goodbye revision hermit... hello life!

*This article is slightly exaggerated, so please remember this as I don’t want you all thinking I am a crazy mad woman, because I’m not (yet).

The vicious circle of teenage judgement

Eyes peeled, a slight glare, like a lion targeting its prey.  Baring its teeth, it comes closer towards you.  You look around.  Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you have been cornered.  Your eyes meet again, the sinister stare that signals you are in trouble.  Prepared to pounce, ready for the kill, there is no escaping the vicious circle of teenage judgement.

As a teenager, I will admit that I judge many things and as you have probably guessed from the majority of my articles and videos, I am rather opinionated.  I am not out to offend or upset- that is my last intention.  At this age, I am not as blunt as an elderly person when passing an opinion (who is?), but I do like to share my thoughts about everything with the world.  However, imagine many teenagers doing so.  Imagine everyone having an opinion about everything, judging just one aspect of something and using that judgement to justify having a negative opinion.  This is what I like to call, the vicious circle of teenage judgement.

Teenagers judge everything- that is what we do.  The sad truth is that we will instantly make up our mind about something, and for the majority of the time, stand firm with our views even when we ourselves might know that they are wrong.  Take parties for example, if you don’t drink alcohol you are deemed as ‘boring,’ but if you drink a bit too much then you are branded as ‘attention seeking’ and ‘pathetic.’  I myself don’t really see the hype about drinking alcohol at my age, but know that people will consider me ‘boring’ and a ‘killjoy’ for saying so.  I am not insulting others who may like a drink; I just don’t like the idea of being at an amazing party and waking up with a hangover and no memory of the previous night.  I don’t mind saying this here, but I know that if I said it at school I would receive many ‘Wow, you loser’ looks, as well as witnessing people whispering in the shock of my sweeping statement.

Teenage girls are constantly being thrown in the vicious circle more and more.  If you aren’t being judged on your appearance, then it is your interests, your personality, your educational ability- the list is endless.  Whilst girls are naturally vicious- let’s not lie, we know we are- I don’t think it is fair that they mainly judge others by their appearance.  I’ve heard the bitchy comments about clothes I have worn in the past, clothes that I felt confident and happy in.  Don’t get out your tissues yet guys, because I must confess that I am one of the many guilty people that have ‘slagged off’ someone’s outfit behind their back.  I am not proud of it as I know what it is like to be on the receiving end of the commentary.  However, what I hate the most is when girls judge others on how they look.  ‘The one with....’ ‘fat legs’ ‘a big nose’ and ‘wonky teeth’ are just a few examples of the phrases that girls and guys can use to distinguish one another, phrases that are demeaning and actually quite cruel.  It is one thing criticising an outfit, but the last thing anyone wants to hear is that they aren’t the right size for everyone- that is just unacceptable.

Celebrities in their teenage years often experience a lot of hate from the public.  This could be due to how annoyingly talented they are...... or how simply annoying they are.  In the case of pop stars like Rebecca Black and Cher Lloyd, whatever it was that teenagers disliked fuelled them to send hateful messages to them and even death threats.  I do admit that I like neither artists music, however I don’t agree with the level of abuse that they received and don’t think that they did anything to deserve hate mail and death threats.  A certain thirty something year old woman who had a short romance with a certain member of One Direction received a lot of flack (sorry, had to put the pun in somewhere) over Twitter and was sent a string of abuse by teenage girls.  It is important to remember that the majority of the so called fans would have never met any of One Direction and without knowing them properly, have no right to dictate who they should and shouldn’t be going out with.

Although it is primarily their own peer group that teenagers judge, adults do too experience the wrath of the vicious circle.  One of my pet hates is when people try to outsmart others in a position of authority, so I go livid when people at school treat the teachers like they are nothing and act as though they can teach the lessons themselves.  It is quite obvious that pupils can’t teach themselves; hence them being the ones sitting at the tables listening to the teachers do their job and teach them.  I struggle to not let out a slight bit of laughter when the pupil is convinced they are the new Einstein and are better than the teacher and then the teacher proves them wrong and demonstrates that the know it all doesn’t actually know that much.

I am not perfect.  I say I hate judgemental people and I am kind of judgemental myself.  I get annoyed when I see chavs being chavs and I sigh when I read about insane Justin Beiber fans climbing over his car in the hope that they will meet him.  As a human being I will continue to have opinions and views all throughout my life- that’s natural.  Nevertheless, I want people to stop being so bitter and horrible in their judgements.  It would be lovely to hear talk about other people’s attributes that others like, rather than the fact that they might be a bit overweight or have a style that others don’t like.  Then we plummet back to reality, remembering that to get everyone to change would be an impossible task, but getting a few people thinking ‘I want to be a nicer person’ would make me feel like I’d done my good deed for the day.

Your eyes meet again, this time the lion looking at you as an equal predator, seeing you for what you are, accepting it and then leaving you in peace.  Within a second, it is gone, like the encounter never happened.

May the odds be ever in your favour Hunger Games

‘The film of the year’- was the phrase I used to describe the Hunger Games when I left the cinema.  For a typical rom-com girl like me to say this about a sci-fi action film- a genre I usually tend to avoid- I am saying something.  Initially, I didn’t want to see the film but I am so glad I did because it was honestly the best film I have seen in a while.  The quality of acting, costumes, storyline, CGI and everything else all packed together makes this a film that you will lose yourself in, your mind solely focusing on The Hunger Games as if you were a tribute competing in it.

Set 74 years after a nuclear war in the future, the Hunger Games is an annual event where one boy and girl- aged 12 to 18- from each of the districts surrounding the Capitol, are selected to compete in a televised battle where they fight to survive and there is ultimately one winner.  When Katniss Everdeen, a feisty, intelligent 16 year old hears that her younger sister Primrose has been chosen to compete, she volunteers to fight in The Hunger Games to protect her sister from her likely death, knowing the possible consequences of her own actions.  Also selected from District 12, Peeta Mellark- a boy from Katniss’ school who is secretly in love with her- travels with her to the Capitol and then fight in the Hunger Games together.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to find an aspect of The Hunger Games that I can fault.  Before seeing the film, I was unaware of the large dependence it would have on CGI effects in order for the film to work but nevertheless, it did not disappoint.  The CGI used makes the Capitol look realistic and is perfect to every last detail.  Similarly, the costumes worn by the people living in the Capitol reflected their personalities perfectly.  The bright colours of their attire, somewhat comparable to what characters in Alice and Wonderland would wear, reflects their delusional positivity in the fighting and how they haven’t let the nucleur war defeat them, unlike the 12 surrounding districts that wear drab, old-fashioned clothing that are visibly deprived.  The teenagers participating in The Hunger Games wear clothing appropriate for combat- clothing that depicts being given a survival challenge, but not to the extent that it is over the top or ridiculous.

Jennifer Lawrence gives a memorable portrayal of Katniss, showing her pure grit and determination whilst simultaneously reminding the audience that she is still a human being who experiences physical and emotional pain throughout the whole film.  Lawrence demonstrates this diversity when Rue- her ally in the games- dies in her arms as though a part of her died with Rue, highlighting the emotional toll and stress The Hunger Games put on the tributes.  Josh Hutcherson was equally brilliant as Peeta, capturing the character’s desire to keep Katniss out of harms way in The Hunger Games and expressing Peeta’s undying love for Katniss so naturally and effortlessly, making myself as an audience member believe that he had always loved her and always would.

For those of you like myself who need a bit of romance to add more depth to a film, The Hunger Games holds the essence of young love, showing what both characters would do so that they can be with one another, without making you want to reach for the barf bag.  However, my one criticism is that the film glosses over the fact that Katniss was acting the part of a young girl falling in love to earn more gifts and it is unclear of her ulterior motives to gain the gifts.

If I were rating The Hunger Games out of ten (which I probably should be doing, seeing as I am being a reviewer), I would have to give it a nine simply for the sensational and believable acting.  I must commend the younger actresses who played Primrose and Rue as their portrayal of the fear their characters would have been experiencing was accurate and made me stop to appreciate the acting skills that they have acquired at such a young age.  I struggle to think of any other actors and actresses that could have played Katniss and Peeta even a fraction better than Lawrence and Hutcherson.  The Hunger Games has you sitting on the edge of your seat throughout, yet encompasses the humour, action and romance that we all want to see.  It is not often that I leave a cinema saying ‘I could sit here and watch that all over again,’ and I genuinely could with this film.  As I sit here typing away and feeling foolish for having not read the books, I am ecstatic at the thought of the sequel ‘Catching Fire’ being out at the cinema next year and if it is anything like what The Hunger Games was, I have no doubt it will be dramatic, sitting-on-the-edge-of-your-seat-entertainment that cannot be missed out on.  The odds are ever in your favour, Hunger Games.

R U ADDICTED 2 TECHNOLOGY?

In the dawn of time, when humans first stumbled along the Earth in caveman and cavewoman form, their basic instinct was to survive.  They would scour every place possible to find the animal that would be their next meal, whilst defending their lives in whatever way they could.  Every morning, food and their lives were the only things they would wake up thinking about........ Nowadays it is a completely different story.  Monday 2^nd April was the first proper day of the Easter holidays and to celebrate not having to wake up at some ungodly hour, I slept in.  Only until 8.45 though (blasted body clock) and by 9.00, I had dragged myself out of the cave known as my bedroom.  However, unlike my caveman and woman ancestors, I did not get my breakfast.  I instead, chose to pick up the laptop and simultaneously check my emails, Facebook, Twitter and- of course- my website.  It was not long after that when I realised that I was prioritising my online life over my actual life where frankly, I needed some food.  This then lead me to question: Could I get up every day without seeing if I have any new notifications or followers?  And more importantly: Could I live without technology? The sad truth is no, but I’m sure most of you couldn’t either.

Since I was born, technology was there and I used it without thinking.  I can remember going on my parent’s somewhat prehistoric computer at an early age, likewise with watching the television.  This demonstrates that when technology is there, we as humans cannot resist it.  Take Facebook, as an example.  Even if I am not putting a status or talking to anyone, I still want to check Facebook.  Although I am not quite an addict yet, I still want to be able to log in and see what is going on- as nosy as that may sound.  Facebook is seen as somewhat the ‘in thing’ to be a part of amongst young people and it identifies who we are and what our place is in teenage society.  To fulfil this feeling of having an identity and an online life, we feel the need to keep checking our accounts on Facebook, Twitter and all forms of social media.  I believe that this makes us feel like we have a place on the map or a rung on the social ladder.  What I don’t understand though, is why we need a website to make us feel like we have a place to voice our views without the world being on our backs if we say them.  Why does it make us feel good when twenty people will like our status, when we are only close to about two of these people?

I’m sure I can speak on behalf on many people when I say that technology has replaced so many daily activities that were and are still considered to be normal.  I have never been a fanatic for reading the paper, I’ll admit.  However, as soon as I discovered that the Daily Mail and the Guardian had their own websites, I began reading the paper online.  Some may argue it is because I am too lazy to pick up an ordinary paper and read it.... and I would agree with them.  I much prefer to scroll down the side of the page and see the previews of different articles before reading them, than begin reading them in the paper to only discover half way through that it wasn’t what I wanted to read or was uninteresting.  What started out as the tradition of going out to buy the paper has like many other ‘normal things,’ been given a digital alternative so that we don’t even have to move to find out what is going on.  Additionally, rather than seeing a child/teenager outside playing football getting some good ol’ vitamin D, they are more likely to be inside playing a video game.  I am in no way criticising video games- I played a very competitive game of Mario Kart with my brother earlier, I’ll have you know.  Whilst video games are fun, some children would rather play them than go outside on a hot sunny day, which just goes to show how dominant technology can be in our lives.

Although I do love the fast paced nature of the technology we have today, I do think it would be beneficial if the world could have a week without certain aspects of technology, simply to highlight how dependant we are on it.  A traditional letter would replace a Facebook conversation; children would be forced to go outside and find their own entertainment instead of playing video games.  That way, they will be getting the vitamin D they need and that thing called ‘exercise’ that P.E teachers seem to go on a lot about.  However, we are a world revolving around technology and I don’t think we could even spend a single day without it.  Even though my family and I are too lazy to get out the Wii Fit board, we still feel the need to have it.  My Dad still manages to get lost with his SAT NAV, I can’t be bothered to knock my friends front door, so I instead text them to say ‘I am at your door.’  The purpose of all this technology is to make our lives easier and quicker- and yet it is doing the exact opposite.... and is making us LAZY.  A word we do not want to admit to but we all know is the truth.

What could possibly happen if you didn’t have your phone? Would your head explode simply from the shock of being away from your trusted companion? Or would your fingers start twitching from the urge to text someone?  What about your X Box? Would you survive in the real world with real interaction rather than cyber interaction? If you even think of answering ‘No’ to any of these questions, then I think it is safe to say U R ADDICTED TO TECHNOLOGY.

Incapability to form a sentence and a Blackberry phone at eight- what has happened to British children?

When I was five years old I was a happy little school child.  A year on, I was a slightly taller, happy little child who enjoyed progressing with her reading and writing.  At seven years old, I had an assortment of barbie dolls.  They would accompany me in the basket of my barbie bike whilst I would cycle around, regularly falling off and obtaining bruises in all the colours of the rainbow.  Looking back, it was clear I was a child capable of many things....... and wearing a nappy and being changed by a teacher is something that I can happily say I never had to go through like the children of today.

Yes, you heard me correctly.  In many primary schools across the country, children as young as five years old are still wearing nappies and need to have these nappies regularly changed by the teacher, children I hasten to mention, without a medical condition.  There is no denying that children are going to have 'a little accident' every now and then, but it is astounding to think that teachers are forced to constantly interrupt their lesson to clean up after the youngsters that they are supposed to be teaching.  After doing my research through a variety of sources, I have been led to believe that children today lack the fundamental life skills that they should learn within a few years of their lives- some incapable of forming proper sentences- and therefore, we as a nation need to do something about it.

Technology is a rapidly moving part of our lives and of course, will further progress in the following years- that's unquestionable.  However, it pained me yesterday to hear of a six year old with four blackberry phones (I don't want to state the name of the programme, but it rhymes with The Lonely State their Ethics).  Four blackberry's for an six year old?! Has she got such a hectic social life that she needs four blackberry's? Has she got that many friends that they can't even fit on a single blackberry contact list? Or is she aspiring to have a different blackberry for every day of the week? I don't know.  What I do know is that this is a key example of how children are changing.  No longer does a brand new bike or toy make a child the envy of all their peers; instead it is the latest item of technology they have seen on the television that makes their eyes light up and their smile beam with happiness.

Cosmetic surgery is in reality, a solution to women that are insecure with themselves and their bodies and is an indication of wanting to seek perfection.  The hardest thing for me to say is that girls as young as seven are being given birthday presents of 'A voucher for a boob job in seven years' and even a voucher for liposuction when they are old enough.  I find it repulsive to hear that girls mothers are teaching them at an early age that they are not yet what is deemed to be 'perfect,' and need to change themselves to be a walking barbie doll.  Women insecure with themselves shouldn't delude their children into believing that they aren't good enough, this is is a foundation for insecurity and all kinds of psychological and physical problems with people.  And for your information, a Barbie's head has a bigger width than its waist.... that's just weird.

Who is the real culprit of the change in British children?  For one, I say the incontinent parents who shove their child in front of the television, expecting them to realise how to correctly hold a knife and fork when truth be told, the children have no clue.  Children for the best part of four years, are solely reliant on their parents and can't just be expected to teach themselves what numbers and colours are.  It is through experience and listening that they gradually develop an understanding of things, the reason why parents can't let their child watch the Tweenies, feed them and then tuck them into bed.  The earlier they can teach their child the basic life skills, the less likely the child will be a cartoon watching zombie that grunts when they want their next meal. 

Not all children are like this, oh no.  I have some family friends with very bright and intelligent young children who will go far in life.  However, I feel it important to reiterate the fact that many children aren't as capable as they used to be and if we don't do something soon, we will have a generation of far less able people who are only reliant on each other and not themselves.  Life skills was a lesson I had in key stage three telling us how to be responsible young adults; I genuinely believe that young children need this lesson, but to teach them how to do the most basic tasks like opening a book- if the parents won't teach them then the schools should.

Arrogance is ugly...and there are a lot of frightful sights out there.

We all know these people.  The condescending 'Look what I have and marvel at my brilliant life peasents' people.  The sort of person that makes your blood boil and your body tense up just at the sight of them.  Be it an annoying colleague or 'friend' you are lumped with as an adult, someone who thinks they are 'too good' to speak to you, or in my case, the people that do nothing for their exams and then mock you for working hard, we all have people in our lives that we just want to hit over the head with a mallet seem to do no work and yet 'life's a breeze' and are ultimately- the complete pinnacle of arrogance.

There are no escaping these specimens.  Wherever you go, even if it is to the 'Land of No Fault,' you will meet a big headed person.  When I talk about 'arrogance' I use my fifteen years of experience to describe the people that are happy not do any work or that don't express that much of an interest even in working... because they assume that their families money will get them through life easily.  Yes money can buy you the material possessions that are apparently more important than your own family (so I have been lead to believe), but to all the egotistic people out there.... money won't get you a job. At the end of the day, jobs are given to people with actual qualifications and genuine people who seem to care about the job.  Not the people that choose GCSE subjects based on ease and then what can only be described as 'slag off' their teachers for making them do work.  'Oh my god, how can she expect us to do all this work?' people will say, whilst I want to jump up in front of the dimwits shouting 'That's why we're at school for 30 hours a week you utter...' I'll let you finish that one off.  I understand that not everyone will talk about school enthusiastically and not everyone will get amazing grades, but I cannot tolerate the ones that ridicule others for trying and don't put any effort in at all, just so that they can fit in with the cool crowd.  Additionally, I thought that in our last year of secondary education this concept would be fairly obvious to sixteen year olds: school is not a nursery.  We don't attend school to their sit drooling with our mouth open, cry when we don't get our own way and have a nap time (.........although I may benefit from a nap every now and then).

Looking at who you may see as Mr or Mrs Perfect, believe me- THEY ARE NOT.  I know they will show off to you about how amazing their life is, but the constant desire to impress that they are demonstrating highlights that all is not well.  Power, possessions and perfection are all a mask to hide someone who is actually very insecure and wants to be accepted.  Don't worry BWW readers, I am not going soft on you, this is still a Mullaney rant.  However, it needs to be remembered that the people parading around on their high horse are often the ones that at some point, have fallen off.  Showing off about their latest gadget for example, is their way of making you believe that they are happy and have a great life, because they feel overshadowed by others and are craving attention.

As hard as it may seem, the best way to deal with these people is to learn to laugh at them.  I don't mean just walk up to them, laugh and walk off (although there is no denying that would be hilarious); I mean that when they are doing your head in about their useless drivel, remember that you don't care, which is why it's so funny that they are trying to impress you.  Alternatively to laughing, try confusing them- unintelligent arrogant people can't cope with 'big words,' or cleverly worded sarcasm.

I am in no way saying 'Be a mean bitter person and treat them badly,' because then you are just sinking to their level, which is the worst thing that can happen.  Simply be polite- good manners cost nothing after all- without being overly friendly and turn the other cheek.  Why you may ask? My answer being that these people will eventually get their comeuppance and when they do, they will be jealous of you.  They will be jealous that you have worked hard and are succeeding, whilst their money could only get them so far in life.  If you remember to learn to laugh at them, you'll be having the last laugh.  After all, I'd rather be the loser who worked hard for her GCSE's and did well, than the cool-kid who couldn't care less and did rubbish.

Happy New Year..... not.

11.59- Excitement runs through the air like an excitable child running down the stairs to find their presents on Christmas Day.  A sea of people flood the streets and not a single inch of the ground can be seen.  A few of them begin counting down to zero- not many though, the clock hasn't even reached the final ten seconds yet.  These are a few of the many drunk people walking the streets, some in funny costumes, others in their party gear.  Suddenly, the partying stops.  As still as statues, everyone gets ready for the ritual that is shouting '3, 2, 1- HAPPY NEW YEAR!' and the partying resumes. Meanwhile if you are like me this year and aren't properly celebrating New Year, it's a case of turning round to whoever has managed to keep their eyes open until this ridiculous hour, grunting 'Happy New Year,' and then disappearing to bed.  Great, New Years Eve over and done with for another year ('Thank God for that,' I mutter).

Don't get me wrong, I am not a scrooge.  I am the excitable child that I mentioned earlier, who runs down the stairs on Christmas Day to find her presents and tears the wrapping paper to shreds.  New Years Eve is another story.  I'm not afraid to admit that I turn into a miserable middle aged person if nothing is happening on New Years Eve and sit there, feeling obliged to stay up until 12 o'clock so that I can play my part in this holiday by saying 'Happy New Year'- and then go to sleep.  My strong desire to go to sleep, and many other reasons, is why I say 'Nah tar' to New Years Eve.   

Why are we celebrating the turning of a new year? Now my question may seem idiotic, but makes perfect sense to me.  Yes the year has changed, well done Sherlock, but is there any need to celebrate the start of another long year of our lives? Logic tells me that if we celebrate the start of a new year, it is only right to celebrate the start of a new month.  For example, next month will be the only January of 2012 in all of our lives, so lets go out dressed as a bumble bee, party the night away and return home at 3.00 in the morning with only one shoe and only a distant memory of the night. 

It is said that your childhood is the best time of your life, granted that is true.  But although I like being the awkward teenager that I am, being young can annoy me a bit.  One reason being that I can't go out dressed up to a nightclub, let my hair down and unleash my inner Dancing Queen, all because I am fifteen.  I can't hop in the car with my best friends and go on a mini-holiday to London for New Years Eve because of that annoying little number fifteen.  I am in no way wishing my life away; I love not having a mortgage to pay and not being able to count the ever growing number of wrinkles on my face.  However, I just wish that I could wake up a few years older- or alternatively there could be a decent event for teenagers to go to on New Years Eve. 

In my opinion, the whole celebration of New Years Eve is overrated.  People party, others don't, but I can guarantee that most people wake up on New Years Day feeling miserable.  Be it from the hangover from hell or the sheer realisation that we are into yet another year and aren't getting any younger, I find it slightly amusing that the start of the new year ironically isn't a very happy one.

Nevertheless, I am sure that once I reach seventeen or eighteen, I will fall into the trap of New Years Eve: Partying all night, being the dancing queen I was born to be, and waking up in the morning feeling absolutely rubbish, deep down knowing that I will foolishly be lured in by New Year's Eve's glistening exterior in three hundred and sixty four days time.  On that note, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

My take on the riots- remembering that I am a 15 year old teenager.

The riots, dominating the news and media for days on end, demonstrating what Britain has become and destroying lives.  It's hard to imagine that all this started by a small, peaceful protest because a policeman shot a 29 year old man.  Yet it kept escalating and escalating until for completely different reasons unknown to myself, people were attacking each other, burning anything in sight and thieving from shops.  I have my own, clear opinion of the 2011 riots and I hope that you can see that through my writing.

We all have things that we want to have in life.  The latest clothes, phone, CD- you name it.  Sometimes, we may be lucky enough to have them, other times we may not.  For example, I'm not going to lie in saying that I am always after the next trendy clothes from Topshop.  The feel of the material, the numerous outfits I could create from it are just a few of my thoughts when I've found an item of clothing that I want.  If someone were to say to me 'How much do you want that?' I may respond with an answer such as 'Quite a lot.'  But do I want that top so much that I would be willing to steal it? No.  'And why?' you may ask.  'Because I'm not dishonest,' I answer.  Although I have admitted that I want that garment, I would never lower myself to stealing it because I can't be bothered to pay for it myself or 'it seemed a good idea at the time.'  Sadly, this is what so many young adults, teenagers and even children did this year.  People did the unimaginable and destroyed shops and in reality peoples lives, all because they wanted that Blackberry phone for example, that they couldn't afford.

Leading me on to my next, and possibly bluntest point addressed to the rioters- if you want something, work hard, earn yourself some money, and then you can buy whatever you want.  I am aware that we are in a recession, times are hard and unemployment is high.  I can understand that you may badly want something, but use that to spur you on to make a success of yourself and then you can easily afford it.  One reason which I think is fairly logical, do you want a gorgeous dress with the security tag still secured and visible? Do you want the new, amazing Blackberry that is actually a model for the shop that doesn't even work? Want something- pay for it like everybody else.  You are being a good honest person that way and will get products in their best quality.

I was astounded this year by the amount of people that stole from shops in the riots, and I am aware that it wasn't just the 'horrible chavs' that we all assume it was.  People with good, wholesome backgrounds were involved, demonstrating that absolutely anyone can be a part of these terrible events.  There were vast amounts of people who stole, but not all of these can be bad people.  It's sad that a lot of these people stole because they thought they would get away with it as so many others appeared to do so at the time.  It's like school, when you think about it.  Your friend can be messing around in lessons and the teacher may not notice, but then when you both are the teacher will notice and you will get in trouble.

'The youth of today'- a phrase that I cannot stand to hear, but feels all the more relevant after this summers' events.  Adults can look upon us as though we are all vandals that just want to cause trouble and be a burden on society, when really this is only the minority of young people.  Are we all in hoodies ready to steal from our local shopping centre and cause havoc? No.  But the ones that are are the ones that ruin it for the majority and ultimately give us a bad name.  I hate the fact that some adults consider all young people to be thieving chavs, because there are the good teenagers as well, who simply get overlooked in the media because they are constantly trying to portray us in a negative light.

One question that springs to mind about the riots... did all of the rioters know what they were rioting about? Was every single person aware that they were protesting because a policeman shot an adult prior to these events? The sad truth is no.  People weren't setting cars on fire and stealing from the shops because they were upset about the death of Mark Duggan.  Many of them wouldn't have even known who Mark Duggan was.  Shops looted, building burnt, lives ruined, purely because people wanted an excuse to get all the material possessions that they couldn't afford and let off some steam by acting as vandals.

Ashamed to be a British teenager, is the viewpoint that I have of the riots.  The riots are another building block in the tower of negativity that has been created of young people.  I simply want to reiterate one of my main points by saying that everyone has the potential to have a great life if they work hard.  I have recently been told 'the world is your oyster,' which is true.  If everyone chooses to put in the hard yards to make something of themselves, they can do anything in this world.

Why my school could not face the celebrity life

"Oh my god, my hair looks awful!"
"Has anyone got a mirror, I need to check my make-up!"

These were only a few of the cries of the girls in my year on photo day.  For the boys, it was like any ordinary photo, but for the girls- the day of Satan.  It's not like these were normal photo's, that you could delete off your camera if you didn't them.  These photos would haunt us for the rest of our lives, following us around like an unwanted pet that you were unable to get rid of, until eventually they would rear their ugly head and everyone would see that it belongs to you.

As soon as I walked into my school, I was overwhelmed with the amount of mirrors and hair flicking that I could see.  I knew that I didn't look perfect, but I thought I looked at least ok when I left the house.  To my dismay, even the prettiest girls in my year were fretting about their make-up and generally panicking.  Surely if the prettiest girls were worrying about how they looked, then the average ones like me should be running for the hills?

Prior to the photo's, the whole of my form time was spent panicking about my ever so slightly gappy fringe and the microscopic spot on my face that make the photographer hate me and therefore ruin the picture.

Nevertheless, we all had our photo's taken and were all relieved when they were finished.  That is, when we thought we were finished.  After we had our photo taken, we then had to walk round to the back of the line.  Standing there as confused as a blind man at a map reading competition, I had absolutely no idea what was going on.  Suddenly, the relaxed look on my peers faces turned to horror as they realised what was going on.  My friend sensed my confusion, turned to me and said
"We're having a class photo."  Panic resumed and I had to go through the painful cycle all over again.

This ridiculous, unnecessary day has lead me to believe that my school could not face the celebrity life.  In the future when we are adults... possibly.  But now? No way.

Like it or not, celebrities go from day to day being photographed.  Be it at a red carpet film premiere, or getting some bread in Asda, there is no escaping the paparazzi.  In Year 11, we were given just under a months notice for three photographs, I even went to the hairdressers the night before the photo.  Celebrities can't do this though.  They can't stop a photographer getting a snap of them taking a walk, first thing in the morning with bed hair and no make-up on.  Just take a second to imagine this happening to me and my year group- we would go absolutely mad!

When we received our photographs in form time, we were disgusted to find out that we had been airbrushed.  A minute mole under my lip- airbrushed.  My blonde hair- airbrushed to make me look like some sort of barbie.  Everyone was outraged.  Despite our complaints on photo day of our spots and bad hair, we were insulted that the photo company had noted down all our imperfections and had changed every single last one so that we didn't look like ourselves.  Of course, celebrities always face this form of insult when they are on magazine covers- even Kate Middleton's waist was made smaller by a magazine after the Royal Wedding! If we can't cope with being airbrushed on a school photo, how would we cope finding ourselves on a magazine, airbrushed so that our figure has been made to look tiny? The answer is, we wouldn't.

I therefore believe that me and my year group aren't ready for the celebrity life just yet.  A few school photo's are traumatic alone, let alone having our faces on 100,000 magazine copies across the country! Celebrity life? I'll stick to being an awkward teenager for now, thanks.

Meh. Yes, you heard me, meh.

Isn't it odd that words we commonly use aren't in the English dictionary? Ginormous isn't in there.  Neither is chav.  What if I wanted to say 'What a ginormous group of chavs over there!'? Technically that doesn't count as a proper sentence, which ultimately means that a lot of the things I have been saying aren't correct.  But I ask you, oh brilliant English dictionary, what about meh?

Don't look so confused readers, I am sure you have all said meh from time to time.  In fact, I can guarantee you that the word meh graces my, and many other teenagers, vocabulary at least ones a day.  Unconvinced? I am going to prove to you why I think the word meh should be in the English dictionary.

Short, sweet, snappy- it's meh.  Just saying meh as a response can say as much as 5-10 words.  For example, you're friend says to you "What did you think of the X Factor yesterday?"
You negatively say "Meh," showing that you didn't think it was very good and therefore don't want to go into further conversation about it.  If you hadn't have said meh and instead replied something along the lines of "It wasn't particularly good last night," you would have said five more words that you actually needed to.

Being the ambiguous word that it is, meh can be used for a variety of different scenarios.  "How are you?" you're friend asks just that bit too cheerily whilst you sit there glaring.
"Meh," is your response and your friend instantly gets the message that you're in a bad mood and want them to shut up, without you actually having to offend them by saying it.

Don't worry, meh doesn't have to be all about hidden meanings and messages.  Your meh could be used when you simply can't be bothered to give a response.  Someone could be banging on about something wonderfully negative or horribly positive, and the word meh can fit the bill perfectly.  Again, here are a few examples.

Your friend: I am sick and tired of the boiler man.  We do the right thing and pay him, but all he does is destroy our boiler even more that the last time! Completely useless if you ask me!
You (bearing in mind you stopped listening at the word sick): Meh.

Your friend: It's such a lovely day today; the sun is shining, the birds are singing, life's just great!
You (forcing a smile and speaking more high pitched than intended): Mmmm meh!

So English dictionary, what do you think of my brilliant proposition? A word that can be used for every sort of situation imaginable! Oh you don't care, you think it's appalling, abysmal and utterly dreadful? You do realise you could of saved a significant amount of time and effort with that sentence... if you had just said MEH.

Obesity is rising, my fat cat should be careful.

There is no hiding that obesity levels are rising.  As the years go by, people are getting bigger and bigger to the extent that the basic necessity of walking is a chore.  Walking! Taking a light stroll to get the paper shouldn't cause pain, it should be what it says... a light stroll. 

Uh oh, there she comes.  Returning from her Roman feast of a dinner, her stomach wobbles like jelly as she plods along to where she wants to get to.  It is somewhat surprising how slow she walks, surely someone of her nature would walk a bit faster to work off that meal.  Here she comes, obvious as the thud of her against the door can be noticed subconsciously.  Here she is, my fat cat.

Cookie, a name with a slight twist of irony for a cat that loves her food.  And trust me, she loves her food.  If I asked you 'can cats bully each other?' I'm assuming that you would say no.  Don't be fooled.  As my mom puts out the food bowls for my cats, Cookie will eat on the right and Muffin on the left, a routine that they have put in place since birth.  However, Cookie can't be content with her own food, oh no.  After a couple of mouthfuls of her food, she will slyly bash into Muffin, leaving her watching on the sidelines as Cookie eats her food.  When Muffin protests- as anyone would do if their sibling stole their food- Cookie will 'take to the ring' and give her a good whack across the face, causing a silly mini-fight that results in Cookie winning and having Muffins food on top of her own. I think the 'finders keepers' rule is put into play here.

Before you start thinking 'That girl is mad, talking about her fat cat,' I must inform you of the facts.  When I took her to the vet, he said that she was very heavy and... obese, not morbidly obese yet...  but nearly diabetic.  So as any family with a cat in danger of obesity would, we put her on a diet.  Less food, more exercise- sorted.  Little did we know of course, how devious this cat really is.  We don't know how the mechanics of her little brain work to make her what I believe to be an evil genius.  This is because when returned from our holiday and picked her up from the cattery, we discovered that every time she was fed, she tried to make a bid for freedom and escape (luckily failing in doing so).  On a separate occasion proving that Cookie is a little mastermind, my neighbour one day said that Cookie just walked into his house, and fell asleep on his bed.  Not only is she defeating the object of her diet, she is breaking and entering! A few years ago, she even had the nerve to leave the present of  frog that she had skinned on their doorstep.  But that wasn't the only home she had invaded either...

If you take a mere twenty seconds to go on google, type in 'fat cats' and you will see creatures known as cats that I think are small bears.  Nevertheless, I don't want Cookie to look like that for a variety of reasons.  One- it will ruin the 'street cred' that she has earned from the other cats.  Two, I want my fat cat to live for a while and I don't want this to take her.  Finally three, frankly she's fat enough as she is and I'm not having a cat resembling a small bear.

This is why I have created a solution.  Admittedly it will never happen, but it could work...
My idea is 'I'm a Fat Cat- Get me Out of Here!' There are ten fat cats that need to lose weight, put them on a reality show in a confined area for three weeks with less food and opportunities to exercise.  Viewers have to choose their favourite cat and vote for who they believe to be... The King of the Fat Cats.  As well as losing weight, they will: get fit, form relationships with other cats, learn not to take out their aggression on other cats and realise what they need to achieve.  ITV producers- take that.

Farting jokes will never cease to amuse me

Again purely for comedic purposes, not to be taken seriously

Here I am; a mature and collected teenager- practically an adult. Back from holiday in Mallorca with my family, every night we watched the cabaret; one night being a comedy impressions show called ‘Zerox.’ Unlike most of the hotel ‘entertainment’ you encounter on holiday, this did its job because everyone went back to their hotel rooms that night with the content feeling that they had actually been entertained.

Zerox impersonated a variety of famous faces such as Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, Jedward- the list is endless. After a hilarious performance of Lady Gaga not knowing what she should be singing about, next in line was the famous scene from Titanic where Jack is holding Rose and they both have their arms out and- yeah you get the point. As he tenderly placed his arms around her waist and she lifted her arms out like she was spreading her wings, the audience- PARP! Myself and the rest of the audience were in heaps of laughter, as we realised he is encouraging her to fart.

‘Come on Rose, you can do it!’ Encourages Jack eagerly, his eyes glistening like- PARP! Once again, the audience is roaring with laughter as they continue farting away.But why, I ask myself, do we all find farting jokes so hilarious? What is it about our fine flatulence that commences the ripple of laughter? One of my school teachers was unfortunate enough to loudly move her mug in class and everyone was certain that she had 'let one rip.' She soon realised why we were all laughing and whilst laughing herself, said "Honestly, it was only a trumpy noise and you're all laughing!" We continued laughing for quite a while in fact.

Even at college though, there is no denying that I'll be laughing at farting jokes. And university... and the working environment. Let's face it- they're funny! Yes they can be gross, but it's difficult to conceal the laughter once it has begun. So don't feel embarrassed... even the Queen will have a royal hoot at a farting joke!

Confessions of an Inbetweeners fan

Have you seen the Inbetweeners movie? If yes, well done my friend, well done. If no... what are you waiting for? Today I saw the Inbetweeners movie with my mom, questionable as it may be, and I think I speak on behalf of everyone who has ever seen it when I call it the 'funniest movie of the year.'

For those who haven't seen the film, haven't heard of the Inbetweeners or live under a rock (I'm joking on that last one), let me fill you in.  The Inbetweeners is a sitcom revolving around the lives and humorous predicaments that four college boys - Will (the geek) Simon (supposedly the normal one, but isn't really), Jay (the one obsessed with girls and who makes a lot of things up) and Neil (the lovable idiot) - find themselves in.  Public embarrassment, trying to charm girls but repelling them in the process- these are only a few of the funny situations the boys can be in. 

Jetting of to the party paradise of Malia with the words 'Pussay Patrol' written on their t-shirts, the boys are expecting a luxury hotel, girls and lots of alcohol- the ultimate lads holiday.  However, they arrive at a run down hotel and are greeted by an unfriendly Greek owner who tells them that there is a strict £50 fine for pooing on the floor in the hotel room.  If you are 'squeemish' or simply don't like the sight of poo, I wouldn't recommend this film as it does tend to be fond of poo- oh yes, and sick.  Despite their bleak surroundings, on the night the foursome hit the town searching for the best nightclubs and girls, with hilarious results.  Embarrassing themselves on countless occasions, the boys don't exactly have the holiday that they were expecting but still manage to have fun along the way. 

Rivalling the success of this years box office hit 'The Hangover 2,' 'The Inbetweeners Movie,' has the hilarity spot on and can appeal to more than just the teenage demographic.  When I saw the film, it was packed with middle aged couples as well as teenagers, evidence that 'The Inbetweneers Movie' appeals to a mainstream audience.  The timing of the gags, the gags themselves; the script was tailored to suit the comedy the British love and it didn't disappoint. 

I could go on forever but I'm sure the point has been made clear now.  If you haven't seen 'The Inbetweeners Movie'- get out from under that rock and see it! It's laugh out loud hilarious, admittedly slightly vulgar but has the four characters we all know and love- what more can you want? If my forty-something year old mother can see it and like it... so can you!

20 years time, my generation will be surviving on chips and nuggets

This article was purely written for entertainment purposes; whilst my Mallorca anecdote is true, please don't take the main points too seriously or offensively.

At 15 years old, I like to consider myself as an adventurous eater.  Whilst I am no human dustbin, I am willing to try different things- even if it means discretely spitting it out into a napkin. 

A few weeks ago, I went to Mallorca with my family.  I'm not going to beat around the bush, the food there was mouthwateringly delicious; there was never a day when I felt to myself that there wasn't something that I liked.  One day I made my way over to put some chips on my plate and I noticed a fellow teenager next to me getting some chicken nuggets.  Thinking nothing of it, I carried on piling the chips onto my plate (you need to make the most of all inclusive).  When I next looked up, there were now two other teenagers (both looking between 16 and 17) queueing up for the chicken nuggets.  To my horror, as the week went on, everyday teenagers would be queueing up for the nuggets and other minuscule child's portions whilst the proper food was being ignored!  Seventeen year olds, eighteen year olds- all at the nuggets! Even some guys in their late teens, earlier strutting around the pool like they were some sort of Baywatch studs, were turning their noses up at the everything and just settled on some chips and nuggets.  This, along with many other reasons, is why I think that in twenty years time, my generation will still be surviving on frozen chips and nuggets from our local supermarket
I speak on the behalf of the youth (as my Dad likes to call us) when I say that we are a nation of fussy eaters- fact.  Or if we aren't fussy, we aren't particularly adventurous.  We don't explore for something new, like Christopher Columbus when he discovered America, we don't strive to improve our diets like Jamie Oliver- instead we indulge ourselves in junk food, some of which being chips and nuggets.  Sure they're simple to cook and in no way time consuming, but is this what we want to be eating? Cheap frozen food from the supermarket? 

Flash forward to 2031.  By then, a lot of my generation will be married and have children (scary thought I know).  When it gets to tea time, do we create a steaming culinary concoction? No way! Twenty years on and a lot may have changed, but not in the ways of food.  We'll still be overindulging in our precious frozen food, only this time it will be us cooking it, not our parents.  No fruit, certainly no vegetables, and the healthy diets Jamie Oliver wanted us all to have? Gone in a blink of an eye.  If we carry on the way that we are, there is no escaping that we will all be fat, and so will our children.  Child obesity numbers rise every year, so imagine what the world will be like if we carry on eating our unhealthy food.

 Therefore I believe that in twenty years time, my generation will still be surving on chips and nuggets; any form of food known as 'healthy' will be scientifically removed from the face of the earth and we will all be the shape of giant footballs.  And off I go to scoff a good old McDonalds.....

My Scary Summer Part 2

Thought my scary summer was over? It had only just begun.
After reading my last post, you may have assumed that I am a bit of a wimp and if you did- you're right.  As well as being a little bit scared of rollercoasters, I am absolutely petrified of needles and injections.  So having a blood test isn't my cup of tea.  I'd never had to have a blood test in the past, but if the injections we'd had to have at school were anything to go by, it was going to be painful. 

On the way to The Devils Kitchen (aka. the hospital) I started to ask my mum if a blood test is painful.  As my mum began to describe it in more detail than I had hoped, I could feel myself slowly tensing up.  My back first, so I was curling forward, then my arms began to contract until I looked... like a turtle.  All at the mere thought of a blood test.

After waiting an excruciatingly long amount of time- ok it was 15 minutes or so- for my ticket number, a computer generated voice slowly read out my number.  It was time, to face, the needle.  I hesitated a glance through the curtain and had the urge to run out.  The woman I had to see had bright purple hair.  I have nothing against people with bright purple hair (infact I quite liked her hair) but I was rather hoping for a jolly old lady who would have a natter about the summer holidays, than a woman who resembled a tattoo artist more than a nurse.

Saying that I sat down on the chair, every single inch of my body filled with fear.  It's strange what fear can do to you.  In my case it made me sit down and babble to my mom and the nurse about how scared I was of what was about to happen.  I went through apparently the normal procedure of a blood test; having to clench my fist as tight as I can whilst she squeezed the life out of my arm with the 'tightening thing,' as I liked to call it.  As soon as my eyelids shut, I felt the sharp needle jab into my arm. 
"Ow, ow, ow, ow.  Oh god, oh god, oh god,' was all I could bring myself to say as my mum, brother and the nurse chuckled at my pain (see the link to my last post?!) A few seconds later, the pain began to go down and stupidly, I thought that the blood test was over.  Overwhelmed by a sense of relief, I opened my eyes, ever so slightly moved my arm and 'Ow, ow, ow, ow.'  The blood test wasn't over.  It had barely started.

I continued with the 'ows' and 'oh gods' until at long last, the blood test was over.  I was free! Making my escape, I bolted out of The Devils Kitchen, relieved that I had made it out alive.  I may have curled up like a turtle, over used the words 'ow' and 'oh god,' and had a dead arm, but my blood test was finally over.  And so was my scary summer.

My Scary Summer Part 1

I have been very fortunate that in my life, I have never felt truly scared.  Well, apart from seeing 'The Woman In Black' theatre production in London (absolutely and undeniably terrifying) and a few horror films here and there, I have never felt true fear or felt unsafe.

Until now.  The summer holidays.  Supposedly the time when we are supposed to relax and have fun.  On Wednesday 17th August 2011 that all changed.  Me, my mum, brother and some family friends were going on a trip to a park in Stourport, where there are usually some rides.  I've been there about three or four times before, so I knew what to expect.

Initially, the day was going quite well.  We went on a small boat driven by my 11 year old brother and survived.  I'd been on the previously terrifying dragon ride and realised that it is terrifying- when you are 10.  After somewhat attempting to fall down a slide (yes, you read that right) gracefully and going on a slightly painful spinning ride, it was all well and good in Stourport park.

That is, it was all well and good until I opted to go on yet another spinning ride, something very out of character for the 'ride wimp' that I see myself as.  However, I decided to go on the ride, despite still being extremely dizzy from the last ride.  I'd been on this ride earlier in the day, so I knew what I was in for; being crammed into a small spinning pod with someone else, whilst the whole ride spins up and down until you are completely disorientated when you make your escape.

Chuckles- what I called the man running the ride due to the fact that when I previously screamed like a maniac, he did what his name said, had a good old chuckle at my fear on the ride- took one look at me and let out a small but clear laugh.  Not a friendly 'You were a bit funny on the ride earlier' laugh, more like an evil and slightly deranged 'This is what I get paid for, watching these fools in fear' laugh.

Nevertheless I got on the ride with my friend and realised that in actual fact, it wasn't too scary.  Comparing it to some of the unimaginably scary rides at Alton Towers, it was alright.  So me and my friend sat there, spinning round and round as I laughed and said 'What was I scared of? This is fine!'  I shouldn't have said that, it was a stupid thing to say.  At that moment, I could feel a slight pain in my head.  The start of a headache maybe? No, I don't get headaches that often, I thought to myself.  I then realised it was dizziness.  Such an overpowering feeling and when on a ride, so horrible. 

I started to scream, louder and louder, this time truly fearful that I was going to be sick.  Of course, no one realised that; my mom, brother and friends were completely oblivious and kept waving every time I spun round into their view.  Which, come to think of it was quite a lot.  Whilst screaming, I glanced over to Chuckles, who yet again was in his own little world of menacing laughter.

By now I was feeling terrible.  The mini sick had been done (where you're slightly sick but swallow it, disgusting I know), my stomach was ready and I knew what was coming.  The ride came to a sudden stop, and Chuckles strolled over.  As he lifted up the bar to put me out of my misery- I was sick.  All inside the ride.  I'd had a raspberry drink earlier, resulting in my sick being pink.  If it weren't sick it may have strangely looked pretty.  Now when you're sick on a ride, it's difficult to think of something to say afterwards, so I looked up at Chuckles and slowly said 'I have been sick, I am sorry.'  When I got off the ride I was sick again, this time on the lovely red carpet on the ground that is now called 'The sick covered red carpet at the dry cleaners.'  Oh yes, and on myself.  This regrettably included my new Topshop shorts and my favourite shoes.  I won't bore you with too many more details but I was also sick through my nose, which was the moment that I discovered that it is possible to be sick through your nose.

I took my walk of shame and was somewhat proud that Chuckles had his comeuppance and had to close his ride to clean my beautiful pink sick.  I suppose all this serves me right for going on a ride that has the word 'Hell' at the beginning.  Should have gone to specsavers...

15 going on 50

Sometimes when I listen to the music in today's charts, I feel embarrassed.  Embarrassed that a lot of the music doesn't have any real meaning behind it and whilst the artists are saying a lot of words, not much is actually being said.  Of course only a few artists are like this; there are some who's songs have a true story behind them and they've clearly spent a long time thinking about what the song means.  Two names that instantly come to mind: Adele and Beyonce.  Two of my favourite artists so yes, I am slightly biased. 

But one group who I didn't used to particularly like and now absolutely love... Queen! I know what you're thinking (if you are my age) 'God, my Dad listens to them!' Well congratulations, so does my Dad and I couldn't care less! Queen formed 40 years ago in 1971 and their music is still popular! 'Why' you may ask? 1971 or 2011, people can create their own meaning Queens music, making the songs feel closer to them.  For example with Bohemian Rhapsody, Freddie Mercury said that it doesn't have a meaning, but Brian May went on to say that Freddie was a complex person who put a lot of himself, happiness and sadness, into the song.  In other words, Mercury is letting us feel the song and have the chance to put our own ideas to it, whilst Brian May is saying that although there isn't one specific meaning, Mercury put so much of himself into the song that it reflected upon him, and therefore had a meaning to him. 

The main reason I started to like Queen's music was when I saw the musical 'We Will Rock You,' and I can say without a doubt that it is the best musical I have ever seen (and I have seen a fair few musicals).  Being able to create a whole story and such complex characters from different songs off their album is genius in my eyes.  I won't go into the details of the story because let's face it, we will be here all day and I will be reduced to typing 'OMG IT WAS SOOOOO AMAZING!' loads when I know you don't want to hear this.  All I will say is that 'We Will Rock You' is worth every penny; seeing it once wasn't enough for me and I have now seen it three times, but I could honestly see it thirty times without failing to be entertained (my Dad has seen it 6 times and still loves it!)

Words can't express how jealous I am of my Dad.  He went to a Queen concert in the 80's.  If Freddie Mercury were here today, I would definitely be hounding my parents for tickets to a Queen concert if I hadn't already seen them.  Although I love Beyonce, Adele, Rihanna etc. I will admit if I could I would choose Queen over them any day.  So so many reasons, one of them being that even though it's nice to see a solo artist enjoying themselves performing on stage, nothing beats a band performing as you can see them all contribute to make an amazing final product.

In my eyes, Queen are a musical inspiration and their worldwide success is only one way of justifying this.  Although Freddie Mercury passed away in 1991, his the other members of Queen's music lives on and I see them as legends in music and I think they will be forever remembered as this.

Celebrity scandals? We don't care!

*This was another article I wrote for my school newspaper in June 2011

Imagine you are taking a stroll to your local newsagents; you glance over to the newspapers, looking forward to reading the news.  However, to your dismay you find it is yet another image of Cheryl Cole, the headline describing how she was ‘dumped’ by the American X Factor executives.

Celebrity’s lives are covered excessively by newspapers to the extent that the so called ‘news’ is just about their daily lives, doing things or going places that everyone goes.  ‘Jolie-Pitt brood take a visit to an L.A park’- and? This is like me telling an endless story of how I recently went to Tesco and bought a pint of semi-skimmed milk- no one cares! Celebrities are normal people who do normal daily tasks, only they get their weekly supermarket shop in the papers.

But do celebrities want this? Do they want to come out of the gym one afternoon to find that they are being hounded by the paparazzi and discover that they and their sweaty gym clothes have made the front page the next day? Imagine coming out of school to find the paparazzi shoving cameras in yours and you’re friends faces- it’s exactly the same! 

Celebrities’ lives are covered whilst they are doing their job, and yet they are still being harassed when they are just getting some precious alone time to themselves or with their family.  Those are the moments when the paparazzi should say ‘Well this is a boring story, I’ll hassle someone else today.’

Nevertheless, the news never switches off, and reporters will simply move on to the next celebrity.  Celebrities such as Catherine Zeta Jones and Dougie Poynter were checked into rehab due to stress, just think: ‘Could the paparazzi have caused this?’

Furthermore, I know it is nice to pick up ‘Heat’ or ‘Hello’ and read the gossip, but is it really relevant to our lives? We don’t want the paparazzi hassling our celebrities for news about their divorce; we don’t want news about five year old Suri Cruise’s designer wardrobe...WE WANT REAL NEWS.  Local, national, global, anything!  As long as we can feel that we are being informed of something important, rather than losing brain cells by the second.  So reporters and paparazzi out there- give our celebrities a break! And if it’s any consolation, I won’t be watching the American X Factor.

Rejoice! Winter is Over!

*I wrote this for my school newspaper in Spring, as you may have gathered

As I sit here, gazing out of the window on this gloriously sunny spring day, I take a moment to think of how relieved I am that winter is finally over.

‘What is she thinking?’ I hear you cry.  ‘Is she the Grinch?’ In actual fact I’m not.  I happen to be as ecstatic as a young child when it comes to Christmas, it’s just winter that gets on my nerves more and more each year.

First of all- how mad the weather sends us.  Picture a light snow shower.  As I would walk down the street wrapped up in what felt like 100 layers and yet still slowly freezing to death, I would be left astounded to see people JOGGING.  In their t-shirt and shorts (SUMMER WEAR).  What?! I have much appreciation for their dedication to their fitness, but jogging- in the snow? Well they couldn’t get mad at me when I laughed at them if they slipped...

Isn’t the irony of the British weather annoying? No sun in the summer, purely rain.  But yet somehow, we ended up getting practically blinded by sunlight in the winter.  Were we being mocked? Although the Sun was out in the winter, we wouldn’t receive any heat from it- that’s why we are freezing cold all of the time!

Despite Mr Sun making a surprising appearance, winter always left us feeling grey and depressed.  This can be known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), also known as the ‘winter blues.’  So thanks winter, you’re great aren’t you!

It brought us crazy snow joggers, ridiculous weather, bad moods and so much more.  If only humans could hibernate in the winter!