I’m not doing anything exciting this year as of yet, I’m just excited to start my next year of uni and moving into our house.
Summer’s going to be awesome too :D
I’m not entirely sure what this means, it seems quite random. But I’m going to take it literally and say:
Black Bic biro. I NEVER write in blue pen, unless I have to borrow from someone. All my notes are in black ink with red underlining and the only colour is highlighters (any colour but blue, I don’t understand blue highlighters).
I’m a massive neat freak about my notes. And I love stationary. Rose thinks I have a problem…
I never remember my dreams. I remember snippets that never make sense. I dreamt about Sam, but it was weird and I can’t really remember it. Also random people tend to appear in my dreams, it’ll be me and maybe 2 people I know, but all the other people who appear will be randomers who I’ve met may once or twice…
But yeah, I never remember my dreams
I’m not going to go into details about anything otherwise this post would be ridiculously long. But I guess there are a few things on my mind at the minute:
Sam - obviously, it’s not like I ever go on about anything else. But I haven’t spoken to him in probably about a month and its weird being so close to someone and then nothing. It’s odd. I want to text him, but I know I probably won’t. Eeesh. Nothing’s going to happen, I just hate losing people :/
Uni - just the amount of work I have to do, and the zero motivation I actually have to do it. And how little money I have to last me until the end of the month.
Old friends - I’ve been a crap friend and haven’t stayed in touch with some people who I classed as my best friends a year ago. We drifted over summer, and as much as I blame them, I’m partially to blame too. Colette went to lunch with a couple of the girls today so I might get to see them soon when I’m home.
That’s it really. I’m having a bit of a downer so I’m anxious and worried and just sleeping all the time. Roll on the weekend when I can get dressed up and go out with the work lot :)
Good:
Bad:
errm yeah..
SO HARD. Oh my God I love food.
If we’re talking Italian, it’d have to be any pasta with chicken/mushrooms in it. Or cannelloni. Or a pizza - chicken.
Errrrm I don’t like Chinese food, if it was Indian then it’d be chicken jalfrezi rice and a naan.
I love Nandos’ chicken wraps, chips and perinaisse.
Italian food is my favourite though.
Such a hard one.
Anything honey/caramel flavoured. I love caramel chew chew by Ben and Jerry’s. But yeah anything honey or caramel. I detest mint or anything with nuts in. Ew.
I’ve achieved what I wanted to do after high school - I passed my GCSEs and A-Levels and got into Uni.
To be honest I have no idea what I want to do after University. I want to be happy in what I do, I want to have a family a be a mum. I would love to work in book publishing/editing, but that takes a lot of intern work which can be unpaid, so I’m not sure what career I want.
My walls are pretty bare - I don’t really put up photos or posters or anything.
In my room at uni I have my notice board, where I have photos and other things on it, a lamp, and a print that me, my mum and Colette all have.
In my room at home I have 2 prints I bought in Paris. Colette has 3 photos in frames.
To be honest, there isn’t one particular thing that stresses me out. I don’t tend to get very stressed, unless I’m at work, but even then it’s not really stressed. I guess what I’d say stresses me out most is disorganisation, I’m not a go with the flow person really, I like to know what’s happening and when, even if it’s just a vague plan. I like plans and lists etc. Even if I have 5 hours to write an essay, but I have a plan and sources etc. I’m not stressed. I just get my head down and get on with it.
So yeah, I’m not really stressy :)
I haven’t really thought about it. I like older, more traditional names like Thomas, Jacob and Noah for boys. Girls names are harder, so I don’t really have favourites.
I have a few for different reasons. I like fashion blogs on blogspot. The ones I check regularly are:
Well technically this was about yesterday so I’ll tell you what I did last night.
I went to my besty’s house and we had massive heart to hearts. She told me about her boy troubles and I had a little cry and we sorted each other out whilst eating a litre of ice cream. It was lovely. I love her.
This is lame, I haven’t ‘created’ much.. So this’ll have to do. It’s a photo of the storage system (still in progress) I built for my A Level in Product Design last year. It was a lot of hard work and I hated it, but in the end it turned out okay.
Part I
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro’ the field the road runs by
To many-tower’d Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro’ the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil’d,
Slide the heavy barges trail’d
By slow horses; and unhail’d
The shallop flitteth silken-sail’d
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower’d Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers ” ‘Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott.”
Part II
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro’ a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower’d Camelot;
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often thro’ the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed:
“I am half sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter’d free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon’d baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn’d like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro’ the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;
On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow’d
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash’d into the crystal mirror,
“Tirra lirra,” by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro’ the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look’d down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower’d Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river’s dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance—
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right—
The leaves upon her falling light—
Thro’ the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken’d wholly,
Turn’d to tower’d Camelot.
For ere she reach’d upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross’d themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”
‘The Lady of Shalott’
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
This isn’t necessarily my favourite poem, I love a couple of Shakespeare’s sonnets and some of Carol Ann Duffy’s poems from The World’s Wife, but this is the first that came to mind.
This is my favourite photo in the entire world. Colette, our Grandad and me in my back garden. He looks so happy, which is how I always remember him - with a huge smile on his face.
