Breaking the Preconceptions

I've been wanting to blog about something for a while, but have never felt that the time was right. However recently I've been experiencing it more and more and so I have decided to come out with it.

Just because I am doing A Level Art, I am not dull.

For some reason society has this ranking order of different subjects in school, and immediately categorise people for the subjects they have taken. 

For example, I know plenty of people (my brother included) that have taken all sciences or maths for their A levels, and because of this, some deem themselves to be a cut above everyone else. I find it irritating when people ask me what subjects I have taken, and then when I answer English, German, History and Art I get the 'that's a nice mix!' response, or 'nice creative subjects then!', but when someone answers 'Physics, Chemistry, Maths and Biology' the asker is overwhelmed with how intellectual said person must be to take such demanding subjects.

Don't get me wrong, I find those subjects hard. I did triple science last year, and apart from Dr Wellington's amazingly dry wit and the banter that accumulated between our table and my biology teacher (who hates anyone associated with drama in any way) I didn't enjoy those lessons at all. Dr Wellington thought I was a joke, and a clumsy joke at that, as I sliced my hand open somehow in one of the controlled prac assessments. And don't get me started on Mr Lawson, who probably thought I was in need of a trip to the psychiatrist when he, along with the rest of the class, caught me showing Zoe what an awkward whale looks like. Whoops.

But I wasn't bad at science. I just didn't enjoy it, which is why I didn't take any sciences this year. I love writing (hence the blog), playing piano, looking at pretty things like cherry blossom trees, painting, trying to become fluent in German (I know the word for hermaphrodite so I figure I'm almost there) and baking, amongst various other activities that I partake in. Just because I don't enjoy measuring leaves (one of the biology pracs we did last year, complete with safety goggles) or solving simultaneous equations does not mean I'm not the sharpest tool in the box.

Imagine a world without creative people. A world full of 'intellectuals'. What a dull world it would be! Sure, we need our doctors and engineers and astronauts, but what about our poets and actors and artists and musicians? In my mind they are of just as much worth. Deep, I know.

In other news, I've had a lovely easter holiday so far. I have actually been quite productive with my time, and amongst other things, I have restored a vintage bike.

Some of you that follow me on Twitter will already know this. If you don't, you should. I don't tweet incessantly, I promise.

But anyway, two weeks ago my next door neighbours left an old bike outside their house, with a sign saying 'Scrap Metal'. I was immediately drawn to the bike and decided to cart it off and inspect it, and found that it was a vintage Raleigh. When I say vintage, I mean 1970s, but I'm counting that as vintage.

I cleaned it up with some special liquid that was ironically called 'Gunk' and, after a lot of hard work and scrubbing with wire wool and this cream stuff, I derusted most of it. For those of you who aren't in the know about DIY as I am, wire wool is literally wire that has been woven into wool. 

I was amazed when I saw it, but not so amazed when I started using it and found it sheds fibres like real wool, but unlike real wool these fibres can stick into your skin. Ouch. Thankfully, Papa Pickett (has a ring to it, don't you think?) is a bit of a DIY connoisseur, and helped me put together my beautiful bike (thanks Dad!) 

But this is when it gets interesting. When I saw the bike, I named her Clemency Rose straight away. 


(Since I will probably never be allowed to name my child Clemency Rose I figured I might as well use it for a different purpose.)


So when I was cleaning her up, I was amazed to find a postcode and the name 'Rose' printed on the bike. Incredible, I know. It's like fate, Clemency Rose and I are meant to be together. 

I've since bought a wicker basket to complete the vintage look, as you will see in the next few photos. I wanted to do a before and after kind of thing, but the whole rust bucket look doesn't come across as much as I was hoping in the before pictures. 

Happy Easter!

PS I would LOVE if you retweeted or shared my blog on Facebook, you know, if you feel like it.

Before 

After   Isn't she beautiful?

(the imprint of 'Rose')

Wuthering Heights

It has been almost a month since my last post, and what a month it has been! So much has been happening in my life, and although as always it has been busy, I have had so much fun. Valentines Day has come and gone (this year I had a lovely candlelit dinner with Corrie - I bought her roses and everything – wouldn’t I be the perfect boyfriend?!), and most recently, so has the Eisteddfod.

I love the Eisteddfod. I know most people hate it, and sit there the whole time counting how many light bulbs there are in the Grand Pavillion ceiling, but being involved in it is always so much fun, as well as proudly watching my friends sing their little hearts out! Last year it was taken much more seriously by Morgannwg, as we were determined not to come last for once, but after winning last year, we became a bit more complacent this year.

Okay, a lot more complacent. For those of you who had the decency to look up from your avid light bulb counting, you may have noticed an “emotive and powerful dance, which told the tale of Cathy surrounded by souls on the Yorkshire Moors” (Okay, slight exaggeration to Miss Maddy’s adjudication, but that was her gist.) Yeah, that was us.

I know you were all deeply moved by our powerful and meaningful portrayal of Cathy’s love for Heathcliff that looked like we took weeks choreographing the dance, but in fact it was concocted on the Wednesday night before the Eisteddfod. Joe started playing ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush, I started leaping around to the music jokingly, and, soon enough, our dance had emerged. The cloaks were just the icing on the cake.

I think the reason that I enjoyed the Eisteddfod so much this year is that we didn’t take it seriously. With that kind of competition, if you take it too seriously, it isn’t enjoyable for either you or the light bulb counters (oh, and by the way, if you were wondering how many light bulbs there are, I have been informed that there are 280.) I genuinely enjoyed leaping around on stage in cloaks, and by the sound of it Tash, Cath and the rest of the hecklers in her row at the front enjoyed watching it, much to the chagrin of Mrs Evans, who kept pursing her lips in their direction.)

However, there was a part that I didn’t enjoy. Most of you know by now that I am not particularly stable when both my feet are on the ground, so imagine my horror when I was told that since the girl that was meant to be doing the lift didn’t have her costume, I would have to do it. I freaked out. We practiced it quickly once, before we went on stage, but then it was the real thing. When the time came, I tentatively placed my feet on the boys’ hands, and was raised up into the air.

I was absolutely terrified. Now, I haven’t got a phobia of heights, but I don’t like them, and even being raised a little bit off the ground freaks me out, so once I was up there I went with my instincts. I knew I wanted to get back down, so I practically jumped off the boys’ hands, much to their surprise, which is why I think they kind of dropped me. I say kind of because I don’t want to blame my clumsiness on them, but I do want to clear the record and say that I didn’t fall. Honest. It was more of a jump that ended with me crouching on the floor. Silly gravity.

I think the most random and bizarre thing that came out of the Eisteddfod was brother told me (it’s nice to have siblings in high places) that I had come second place in the English Bard competition. The reason I found this so hysterical was that I had written half a poem about ‘Goldie’, which was a twist on goldilocks in a chavvy welsh dialect, as our theme was Welsh Gold (thanks Miss Raine for the idea!) and so for me to have come second makes me wonder what the other poems that were entered were like...

On a parting note, I am about to embark on the D of E training weekend (why I signed up for D of E is beyond me), so wish me luck, I’m going to need it!

And finally, what you have been waiting for - the dance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CYNNPfdUmE&feature=share

The Art of Circle Walking and Rubbish Tea

I haven't blogged in almost a month again. I'm sorry, I know you have missed scanning through my ramblings about my life. But I have actually had a genuine reason, and that reason being that I have been incredibly busy recently. The type of busy that makes you so sleep deprived that as soon as you get home from school on the last day of the half term you fall asleep. Yep, my life's been fun recently.

That isn't sarcasm either. Although this last month has mainly consisted of a lot of work and countless hours of rehearsing for Fiddler on the Roof (the school show I have just been in), I have thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Well, most of it at least. I don't think many people could find a silver lining in staying in school  'til 5.30pm on a Friday afternoon, walking around in a circle slowly for most of the 2 hour rehearsal whilst constantly being told to be quiet as 'this is the easiest thing you've been told to do', but there we go. That circle walking definitely paid off. The show was a success and by the end of the show I understood the plot, which is more than can be said about Les Miserables last year! 

January has been an exciting month for me. I've learnt a few important things, which I have listed below:

1) Islands do not float. Not even the little ones. 

2) Dogs do not like me. Especially not Jon's dogs, Molly and George. According to Jon, this is because I give off a dog-hating vibe, but I think it may be more due to the fact that I accidently kicked Molly in the face the other day. Whoops.

3) There is a really famous street artist called Banksy. Apparently everyone has heard of him, but I only discovered him on Stumbleupon recently, to which I bounced into Art the next day, excited about a new artist that I found out about, only to be met with incredulous looks, as I had not indeed been the first to find out about him, but rather, it seems, the last.

4) People actually read this blog. I know this may sound stupid, but I am still amazed to find out that people actually read this. I am incredibly grateful to anyone who has read any of my blog posts, especially if you read them all the way through. I love finding out when people have liked what I have written, or even if they haven't, why they haven't. So if you have any feedback, whether it be good or bad, please share with me! Even if you don't know me, I would love to know.

5) Most people hate the name Clemency. I heard this name teamed with the middle name Rose the other day as a possible name for my friend's sister's baby. I loved it, but most people that I shared this view with were horrified, especially when I told them the shortened name of the version, Clemmie. Apparently it sounds like Clammy. Obviously people just don't appreciate classy names these days.

I've also learnt to read instructions on an open day timetable, as otherwise it can land you in situations that make you look stupid. I learnt this on a delightful trip that I took with the languages department of the school to Swansea University, on an open day for languages. It was probably a waste of time going, as I am not looking to study languages in Uni, or go to Swansea Uni for that matter, but I was told that there would be freebies and that I would miss double german (oh, the irony) so I happily went along.

When we arrived we were ushered into a foyer filled with students wearing printed 'Routes into Languages'  t-shirts and an 'I'm friendly and here to help you' smile. My attention, however, was focused on the neatly stacked teacups, box of tea bags, hot water dispensers, milk jugs and mini packets of biscuits. Needless to say, I was first in line to make myself a cup, and after taking two packets of biscuits, using the 'one for now, one for during the lecture' rule, settled down to drink the delicious beverage.

Delicious it was not. It tasted like sewage that had been fermented, dried and put in a tea bag. I was revolted not only by the tea, however, but also by a fellow pupil who failed to see what was wrong with it and went to get a second cup. 

Despite this, however, the first two lectures were quite good, although this may be more due to the fact that I accumulated a free water bottle and a folder containing a timetable, a notepad and a pen, and so spent the next hour or so doodling various pictures of owls and other random creatures whilst listening intently to the lectures.

Then it was time for the third lecture. We were ushered by our teacher through to a 'language lab' where Luke (my german buddy who also liked the idea of skipping double german) and I seated ourselves in front of computers and listened to a short, rather plum Spanish lady telling us about language interpretation in Swansea Uni. Then she instructed us to put on our headphones, start the software and translate the passage we heard, first onto paper, and then into microphones to save as a sound clip on the computer.

Fine, I thought, as I happily put on my headset, which was one of those ones that you see pilots wearing in the cockpit of a plane (little things...) and opened the software. It soon became apparent that it would not be as easy as I had hoped, as the options for the languages to translate were Spanish or French. As I know absolutely no Spanish, and did French until year 9, I clicked on the French option, and hoped that miraculously some French would come back to me.

It didn't. I sat, listening to a french man prattle away, trying to recall some words, but all that came back to me was 'Quelle est la dat de ton anniversaire?' (thanks, Miss Rees.) Every time I took off my headphones to try and convey my confusion with Luke, whose computer was broken, the Spanish lady who was watching me like a hawk would motion for me to put my headphones back on, which I did, sheepishly.

Finally, when she came round telling us all that we should be speaking our translations into the microphones, I plucked up my courage and tentatively prised the headset off and raised my hand. When she asked me what the matter was, I said 

"Here's the thing...I don't speak any Spanish or French..."

She looked at me like I had just slapped her. After coming round to her senses, she, with great difficulty, asked why I was there in the first place. Naturally, being the good student I am, I blamed it on my teacher. Always the way to go. For the rest of the session, I enjoyed myself, watching everyone else struggle under the wrath of the Spanish Lady.

And the best part of the day? I got a free lunch out of it all, which was large enough that I didn't eat any dinner either.

Before I sign off, there are a couple of things I need to mention. Firstly, my friend has recently started a blog, and it would be cool if you could check it out - http://anoldheadonyoungshoulders94.blogspot.com/

Also, another love or hate artist, who I feel the former way about, has come into the limelight. If you haven't listened to her yet, do. She's amazing. 

Annoyances

I have an apology to make to you all. I have not written in a month and 3 days, as I have had the worst writer's block - or blogger's block if you will - that I have ever experienced. I have been waiting for inspiration to leap out at me, and have been waiting, and waiting...and still nothing. Zilch. Nada. 


Despite this, however, I have decided to write a blog post anyway, to ease myself back into normality. Those of you who know me well will know that I write lists for everything. I list things in school, I have to-do lists (Yes, really. You only thought middle aged mothers do that, didn't you?) and just generally organise my thoughts using lists. Those of you clever readers out there will realise I just wrote a list. See? It's in my nature. 


And so, just for you dear followers, I have compiled a list of things that irritate me. This could be used to annoy me purposely, or you could realise that some things that you do annoy me, and stop doing them. I'm hoping you will choose the latter.

1) Invading My Personal Space - If you're standing so close to me that I can smell your breath, then you're too close. Also, take a hint, if I am slowly backing away to regain my precious space, don't follow me. I heard someone give a girl advice once to pretend that everyone has a personal bubble around them that you're not allowed to pop. Write that one down, kids.


2) Bad Spelling & Grammar - Please don't think that I have perfect grammar and spell everything correctly, but if you mix up too/to, they're/their/there or it's/its, I will correct you.


3) Polystyrene - This is not just an annoyance, but also almost a fear. It makes me feel physically sick. The sound of polystyrene rubbing together goes through me more than anything else ever. Scrape your cutlery on your plate, fine. Scratch a chalkboard, whatever. But polystyrene, no. 


4) Hollister - The concept of Hollister irritates me. How the image is so manufactured, and how people still think they are being original and fashionable by wearing Hollister. Let's cut to the chase; you're not. Wearing Hollister, Abercrombie, Jack Wills etc. says that a. You are a sheep and b. That you have alot of money to spend on clothes that, lets face it, all look the same. Be adventurous, don't just wear what your friends wear, explore your own style! Sounds incredibly cheesy but I mean it.


5) Facebook - Although there are many reasons why I think Facebook is great, some people on facebook shouldn't be allowed on. You know, the ones that include extra letters/emoticons/words in their name eg. T@niquaaa x Chaantellee x Supastarrr or the ones that constantly send you invitations for CityVille and all the other mindless games found on facebook, and even when you decline the request, they don't take the polite hint and carry on sending requests...you get the picture. 


6) Unenthusiastic People - I understand that we all have days when we don't want to do anything, and are depressed about life in general, but it is draining to be around someone that has no energy, motivation or drive in life. I don't understand it, there is so much to be excited about! Be happy!


7) Fake Harry Potter Fans - There is an unwritten rule amongst those of us who are true Harry Potter fans, that if you haven't read the books, then you are not a true fan. Sorry, but seeing a few of the films does not qualify you to exclaim that your Hogwarts letter was lost in the post, nor shout 'Wingardium Leviosa!' whilst waving a stick (misprounced, I may add.) 


I have a confession. I have read all the books at least 8 times through. I told this to the 12-year-old girl in year 8 set 5 that I mentor as part of a reading scheme, and she looked at me like I was a patient that had escaped for Glanrhyd. Whoops, so much for being an inspiring role model.


8)  'Phobias' - So many people claim to have a phobia of spiders, heights, or claustrophobia, but I'm certain that most of these claims are exaggerations. If you really have claustrophobia, you feel like the walls are closing in on you, find it difficult to breathe, and can experience heart palpitations. Google it, I did. Most people aren't fond of enclosed spaces, but they deal with it. 


9) Photography - Being able to take a few 'artistic' photos with your super cool snazzy camera does not mean that you are a photographer. Neither does taking photos of sunsets, as beautiful as they are. I'm not saying that you shouldn't take photos, as cameras are wonderful things, but just don't think that you are the next Ansel Adams.


As you may have noticed, this list ends on number 9, which is very unsettling for me, but I didn't have any more pet peeves. I suppose that slightly counteracts how cynical and scathing I have been over this last post. Despite what you may think, I am actually a very happy and optimistic person. 


Now something completely unrelated, I overheard something in the school toilets today which made me laugh, so I thought I would share this intelligent little snippet of conversation with you.


Little kid 1 : Look there's an empty packet of paracetemol in the sink! Someone must have taken the whole packet! Yuck!
Chorus of rest of small children : Ewww! 


I was fascinated hearing this, as I firstly wondered why they automatically assumed that just because the packet was empty, someone had taken all the tablets in one go. I was also very worried that they were more disgusted than concerned at the thought of someone taking a whole packet of paracetemol, as anyone with an ounce of common sense would realise that this would kill you. Wow.


On a final note (quite literally) I just saw this and thought it was genius, so I thought I would share it with you lovely people. Enjoy! 

Misunderstandings and A Lot of Whipped Cream

I just came back from my school's Carol Concert. I think have I have contracted hypothermia from sitting on a hard wooden pew in a gigantic stone building for two hour.

Now, though, I'm snuggled cosily in bed, listening to Taylor Swift's amazing new song on repeat, writing this blog and eating a whole can of whipped cream. 

If you were an avid 'Confessions of a Tea-Aholic' fan, you would be doing this as well, as I know many of you are, since it is Day 15 of my own special advent calendar, aka Eat A Whole Can Of Whipped Cream Day. I suggest you go buy a can of whipped cream, snuggle up and click play on this link below before you commence reading this blog.

I've had quite an interesting week. On Monday, I went to B&M bargains (classy, I know) to buy my secret Santa present for a friend. I thought that we were all buying joke presents for each other (I was wrong) but nevertheless trawled this vast warehouse of odd bits and bobs, including these magic straws that make normal milk turn chocolatey when you sip through them. 

If you were considering purchasing this ingenious idea, don't. I fell for this 39p bargain and was thoroughly disappointed when I sipped through the straw and tasted practically normal milk, with a hint of powdered processed chocolate. 

Then I came across the perfect gift for our set budget of a measly £3. It was a 'Santa's Little Helper' costume, complete with a tiny felt dress and long striped socks, that made some outfits witnessed on a Saturday Night in Porthcawl look like habits (which are nun's gowns, if you didn't know.)

As I was paying for said costume, I made a passing comment at the delightful checkout woman, telling her that it wasn't for me, it was a joke present for a friend. She looked at me and cheerfully chirped "I'm not judging, love!"

As you can probably imagine, I was mortified. As I desperately tried to convince her that I wasn't lying, she glanced up at me as she gave me my 1p change and said "Well, if you've got the body, I say flaunt it!"

I realised there was no chance that I would be able to convince this 50+ woman that I was not buying the lovely costume for myself, and so, clutching my practically see through B&M bag, I hastened out of the shop, aghast.

I get myself into these kind of situations very frequently, as all my friends would testify to, especially Tash. I don't know how. Perhaps it is my general awkwardness. The amount of times I have trip, slip and drop things in a day is ridiculous. I like to blame my height, as you might have noticed, I am quite tall for a girl. Not clown tall, but not short either. 

A lot of people say that they are clumsy. But I really am. Particular instances spring to mind, such as in a GCSE chemistry practical last year, I somehow managed to drop a beaker with some sort of dangerous looking chemical in it, and gouge my hand open in several places. Dr Wellington still thinks I'm a complete joke after that. 

Other times that my clumsiness has shone is the countless times I have slipped on completely dry ground and fallen on my backside, once with a hockey stick, flute and games kit clattering to the ground with me amidst the laughter of random people in the street. Definitely a character building experience.

I've finished my can of whipped cream. My pride did not let me give up, seeing as my parents looked at me like I had the IQ of a 4 year old when I told them what I was going to do. I feel proud, and I hope all of you that had ate a whole can of whipped cream (I know you avid followers are out there, somewhere) feel an immense sense of accomplishment. There's something interesting that you can put on your CV when applying to university. It's sure to get you noticed.  You can thank me when you're a high flying politician. 

One last thing; one of my best friends is a fellow blogger, and I would love you to read his blog. He's hysterical, and it would definitely make his day if his blog views rose dramatically. Here's the link; Merry Christmas!

http://guysthatwrite.blogspot.com/

A Special Advent Calendar

It's December the 1st everyone! Only 25 days 'til Christmas! Today I opened my first advent calendar pocket, which contained a small Cadbury's chocolate christmas cracker (wow, look at that alliteration!) and I was quite disappointed that that was what I was to look forward to every day. 

So, being my quirky self, I have decided to embark on a series of challenges, one for each day of Advent. An Advent Challenge, if you like. Once I complete each daily challenge, I get the chocolate. If you would like to accompany me on this character building experience, feel free. It'll do you good.

December 1st - Good Neighbour Day: Put up Christmas lights in your bedroom window to spread some christmas cheer to your neighbours. If you haven't got a spare set, buy an Asda value one. Literally £1.60 or something. 

December 2nd - Sing Down The Phone Day: Call a friend and sing 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' loudly down the phone, and then hang up. Don't say hi or bye, just do it.

December 3rd - Buy A Tree Day: If you haven't already got a real Christmas tree, go get one. Christmas just isn't the same with a synthetic one. You don't get that lovely piney smell. I said this to my friend Tash the other day, to which she replied 'You've got a blocked nose all winter though, so the smell won't make a difference to you!' Witty child. 

December 4th - Bake A Christmas Carol Day: Choose a Christmas carol, and bake cookies shaped as the carol. For example, last year I did this and chose 'The 12 Days of Christmas'. I gave up after 'three turtle doves', though. 

December 5th - Hug Your Mum Day: Hug your mum. Easy, I know, but she'll appreciate it. 

December 6th - Make A Snowman Day: No, not a real one. A sock one. Genius, I know.  I've already done this one with my little sister, and it turned out really well. Click here to make it. You know you want to.

December 7th - Hug Your Dad Day: Go on, he's probably feeling left out now, after you hugged your mum and not him. In fact, go hug all of your family. They deserve it for putting up with you.

December 8th – Charity Day: Count up how much you spent today on food, double it and give it to a charity of your choice. You’ll feel good, trust me.

December 9th – Christmassy Nails Day: Paint your nails Christmassy colours. Go wild! Green and red stripes, silvery snowflakes, the possibilities are endless. Boys, embrace your feminine side. Or try out your nail art prowess on an unsuspecting girl.

December 10th – Bubble Bath Day: For some this may be a hard challenge. Immerse yourself in a bubbly hot bubble bath and relax! See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?

December 11th – Friends Day: No, not real friends, Friends as in the program. Watch a Christmas episode of it here, it’ll make you happy. Especially Phoebe and Chandler. They’re comical geniuses.

December 12th – Wear A Tinsel Scarf Day: You’ll look pretty, trust me.

December 13th – Jingle Bell Day: Learn jingle bells on an instrument. If you don’t have a piano or guitar, learn it on the pots and pans. I’m sure your mum will appreciate it.

December 14th – Fabric Wreath Day: I found this wreath thingy on the Internet and I fell in love with it. So make it and we can be wreath buddies! Click here

December 15th – Whipped Cream Day: It’s 10 days ‘til Christmas! Buy a can a whipped cream and eat it all. Literally all of it. Only stop if you’re sick. And then man up and finish it.

December 16th – Funniest Joke Ever Day: Tell the funniest person you know this joke. And no, before you ask, you can’t tell it to yourself.

What's an ig?

An eskimo's home without a toilet.

  

December 17th – Cake Baking Day: It’s time to bake again! Your choice this time, I'm being nice.

December 18th –Hot Chocolate Day: Drink a mug of hot chocolate. Preferably the milk kind. That’s definitely the best kind.

December 19th –  Winter Walk Day: I love winter walks. Go on a winter walk and enjoy the crisp air. Don’t stay out long, though, otherwise you’ll get hyperthermia and die.

December 20th – Glitter Day: Glitter and Christmas go together like Ant and Dec. Coat something with glitter. Anything. A picture, a jumper, yourself, your little sister…the possibilities are endless.

December 21st – Language Day: Find someone from a different country and say ‘Merry Christmas’ to them in their language. You’ll look super brainy. Just don’t tell them you used Google translate.

December 22nd – Random Act Of Kindness Day: It’s nice to be kind to someone at Christmas. So do something nice for someone. Buy them a cup of tea, offer to do the washing up, or whatever other kind acts you can muster up.

December 23rd – ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas Day: Yes, I know it’s not actually the night before Christmas, but tomorrow’s movie night so you have to read the poem today instead. Read it here.

December 24th – Movie Day: Watch your favourite Christmas movie. Mine’s 'The Snowman'.

December 25th – Christmas Day: You did it!! Well done! That is if you did it all. If you didn’t, shame on you, you lazy thing.

Wow, that was a long calendar. I didn’t envisage it was going to be that long when I started writing it. It’ll be worth it though, don’t you worry. So go on, go put some Christmas lights up to spread the Christmas cheer! Got to love the cheese.

Chicken for Thanksgiving

In case you didn't know, it was Thanksgiving last Thursday. Embracing our American heritage, my family always enjoys celebrating it. The crispy roast potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes, butternut squash with marshmallow topping (alas my mother refuses to put the marshmallow topping on now), jelly (yes, literally on the plate, all mixing in with the gravy), honey glazed carrots...oh, and turkey.

Except this year we didn't have turkey. 

We used to have a big box freezer, but after moving house and leaving that one behind, we got a normal shelfy kind. Unfortunately, the measly little shelves don't fit a twelve pound bird. Shame, I really like turkey.

At least we celebrated it on the right day though. A few years ago, I skipped to school merrily, and wished 'Happy Thanksgiving' to my friends with a grin that could put the tro-lo-lo-lo-lo guy to shame. (If you don't know who this beauty is, I've linked the sing along version of the song here.)

The next day, I trudged in and mumbled to my laughing friends that my mother (not I, just for the record) had got the date wrong, and subsequently we had celebrated Thanksgiving a week early. My mum had only realised when she phoned her mum in America to wish her a happy thanksgiving, only to hear laughing down the phone for the next fifteen minutes. She hasn't made that mistake again.

I love Thanksgiving. To be honest, I love food in general, which is why I am thankful for my friends and our dinner club.

I, along with a few of my friends, have had a little dinner club for the past year or so, eating various impressive dishes at each others houses. Last night we had another amazing meal of various types of pasta, garlic bread and homemade ice cream with hot fudge sauce. 

After eating, we have gotten up to quite a variety of things, including carving Mary (as in Jesus' mother) in butter, dying Richard's hair brown and going into hysterics when it came out ginger, and going on Omegle dressed with headscarves and sunglasses. Love you guys.

Oh, for the record, Children in Need went well. Children froze in terror as we swept past them with our capes billowing behind us. We definitely went all out, compared to some that dressed up. We literally studied the characters down to the last detail, which included the dark marks, and in my case, a winge. 

You may not be familiar with winges. Basically, they're clip on fringes. I wore a dark brown one as I was Narcissa Malfoy. For those who didn't know who I was, shame on you. Go read the Harry Potter books. Like now. Well after you finish reading this. You won't regret it.

It was pretty funny walking home dressed like Narcissa Malfoy though. You know when you usually are walking and as people drive past you, they quickly glance at you and then look forward and keep driving? 

People were not glancing. They weren't even staring. They were glancing at me, having a double take and then turning in their seat, straining to see the weird emo girl with the black fringe. Actually, the crazy weird emo girl, as I found this so funny I was laughing to myself as I walked home. 

On a parting note, I was in England recently with my dad. After we passed someone, briefly smiling, my dad told me that that was probably the last time we would ever be in contact with that person. Ever. Mind Blown.