Somebody call out to your brother.

Life is short.
People forget that.
They shouldn't.
It took the receiving of some horrendous news this evening to remind me of that.

Life is: absolute, burdening, challenging, damaging, eventful, fickle, gregarious, honest, immoral, just, knowing,lyrical, messy, non sensical, opportunist, passionate, questionable, remarkable, scary, truth, unanswered, vigarious, wanted, xenomorphic, zealous.

An adjective for each letter of the alphabet.

It is also beautiful. And precious.
Live it.

When all is done there is nothing to say.

'I'd give anything to be 15 again.'

'Really? I hated that age, couldn't think of anything worse!'

That conversation just happened. When I was fifteen my life revolved around the following things: sport, boys, friends and avoiding Physics homework. I had football training on Mondays, Netball on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Athletics on Wednesday and Friday. My weekends were spent at athletic tracks and netball courts and homework was simply slotted in when I could find the time. Don't get me wrong, I still went to parties, gossiped about boys, passed notes which i always managed to sweet talk the teacher out of reading. I wasn't socially inept. I just studied hard and played hard. I didn't have a future as of yet, everything was perfect as it was. Time could stand still for all I had cared and I would have been happy. I didn't have a job, or university debts, I didn't have to think about anything of the sort, my biggest worry was what to wear for MUFTI days. Everything and nothing was mapped out already, all at once, symbiotically. I looked forward to school, I saw my friends and boyfriend, talked through Maths and I could eat a cheeseburger for lunch everyday without weighing more than 9stone, and trust me, I did.

I wasn't the perfect teenager. I had the worst temper known to man; I fought daily with my parents, slamming doors, leaving the house, staying at friends. I put flour and salt in my dad's coffee, I went out without telling them where I was or when I'd be back. I got drunk and smoked. I went to the doctors and got put on the pill at fifteen despite my mum freaking out. I was however, insecure, a constant battle to be accepted, liked and popular, and I blamed myself for everything that had ever gone wrong in the history of the world; I mean the holocaust was probably even my fault in my head . I was angry. I was scared. I was a teenager. My life wasn't like an episode of Skins but I don't wish it had been either. Balance.

So, a couple of weeks ago I was in Camden, eating a McDonalds (which I now only have to look at to put on weight. Damn childbearing hips) and there was a group of teenagers in there.They were laughing, they were seemingly happy and they had it all. They didn't give a shit, they had nothing to care about. Girls and boys were flirting, one boy was feeding chips to his girlfriend, another couple were fighting for the last chair and they had burgers, they were living the high life. The girls had bright pink and orange hair and ripped leggings, heavy DMs and their eyes rimmed by kohl to the point that their own mothers wouldn't have even recognised them. Now this isn't out of place for Camden, so that wasn't the thing that shocked me, nor was the fact that they had made the choice to have ginger hair. What did it was this: they were polar opposites to what I had remembered my teenage years to be like. Two of the boys who they were with were off their faces on drugs, and the others found it hilarious. 

I wanted to give them a hug and that disgusted me a little bit because quite frankly they were loud and annoying and I wanted to enjoy my Double Cheesburger, fries, vanilla milkshake and chicken nuggets in peace. But since when did your teenage years become about that? Surely at fifteen you should be dreaming about One Direction and like, totally arguing who is cuter, Zayn or Harry (it's Harry obviously). I wanted them to go home, for their mothers to tell them it gets better, to stop being angry at the world because the world isn't angry at them. Their sense of belonging through their Marilyn Manson tshirts and mental haircuts was their way of feeling accepted, and whilst I never had pink hair I completely identified with them. I got that feeling of wanting to be someone, because that was better than being nothing at all. Maybe they did drugs to feel something, or to numb it all out. Or perhaps they were just fucking stupid, I don't know. 

Being a teenager is hard. It took a night in Camden surrounded by them to realise that because at the time I wouldn't have changed anything. The feelings of anger, confusion, euphoria, love and self loathing will never change, it's something bound to the ages which end in 'teen'. I finally recognised and understood the looks of pity I had from my parents aged 14-18 because I had that exact look in my eye at that moment in time. It was a look of compassion, of empathy and forgiveness. I had misinterpreted it as disappointment and it was nothing of the sort.  

I take it back. My friend was right. I couldn't imagine anything worse.

What Might Have Been Lost

i am NOT ready to grow up. i don't want to have to be looking at jobs, and rent costs. I don't want to have to evaluate which county or part of the country I want to live and work in. I don't want to choose.

I want time to stand still.

so i'm going to sit in a dark room and listen to Bon Iver. Healthy.

Time Stands Still

Things to leave behind in 2012

yolo. gangham style. drake. rhianna and chris brown's drama. mitt romney. essay writing. groups of the 90's making comebacks, STEPS, I'm talking about you. celebrity fashion lines and perfumes. Paul's Boutique. secrets. harem sweatpants. Justin Bieber. INSTA FUCKING GRAM, i don't care about your breakfast, your shoes, your filters or lack of, literally fuck off my timeline. going back to the cashpoint more than once on a night out and only remembering when you find the receipts the next morning. The words swag and peng. Real Housewives of... . Snooki and anything else Jersey Shore related. Lee Evans as he's potentially the least hilarious comedian of all time. Ever. Closely followed by Ricky Gervais. double denim. concave fake ugg boots. stupid Facebook status, such as 'like this unless you want a puppy to die.' flaky friends.  expectations.

You're Young and In Love, That Should Be Enough

Bridget Jones: You think you've found the right man, but there's so much wrong with him, and then he finds there's so much wrong with you, and then it all just falls apart. 

I'm not a people pleaser. Far from it.

 However, like most people, I like to be liked. If people have a problem with me, I'd rather know why, so if it's something I can fix. Everyone is guilty of it: 'I don't like her.' 'Why?' 'I don't know, I just don't'. It's almost in our nature to make assumptions, to be irrational with our feelings and to raise our own self esteem by belittling somebody else. Did we not learn anything from our mothers when they used to say , 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.' ?

Trying to please everybody is exhausting and  trying to keep up with the various versions of yourself dictated by who you are spending time with is pointless. I'm completely fed up with changing for you because I'm never going to be 'perfect' , or what you envision it to be.

 When faced with the seemingly perfect Mark Darcy, Bridget Jones famously said  ' First off, I embarrass you. I can't ski, I can't ride, I can't speak Latin , my legs only come up to here and yes I will always be just a little bit fat.'

So here it goes. Take me or leave me: I will never be a size 8 blonde. I dress however the fuck I want for me, not for you. I will do anything for you, but don't you dare push me away because I won't come back. I don't like being told what to do or how I should live my life. I can't be picked up and put down anymore. I won't bend to you or fall at your feet to feel as though you couldn't care less. I have a temper and I am a sarcastic little bitch.  I talk, a lot. I moan. I drink too much tea. I look like a corpse in the mornings. I don't understand heavy metal music. I'm socially inappropriate. I have hips and thighs the size of Russia, and in summer my freckles explode and I look like a giraffe.

However, this doesn't give you the excuse to turn around and tell me what to change about myself in order for you to like me. Just because you are who you are doesn't gives you the right. Far, far from it. You should be the one encouraging me to stay exactly as I am. Ginger hair and all.

You are no Mark Darcy.

Mark Darcy: I like you, very much. 
Bridget: Ah, apart from the smoking and the drinking, the vulgar mother and... ah, the verbal diarrhea. 
Mark Darcy: No, I like you very much. Just as you are. 

I'm fed up of hoping you are.
                              

Time To Rejoice In The Good That We See

It's become something as a tradition for me to write a year in review and combine it with my resolutions for the forthcoming year. 2012 has succeeded expectations, it's been both amazing, and horrifying; I've done some incredible things, and some incredibly bad ones too. So here it goes, 2012 in review.

Highlights: 

Gigs: Ed Sheeran, twice Ron Pope twice, Olly Murs, Lawson, Tyler Hilton, Passenger Festivals: Rockness and Reading, both equally amazing. At Rockness I saw my musical heroes Mumford and Sons, this was potentially the best night of my life and Reading I saw The Cure. THE CURE!!!! New York in February to celebrate my graduation was insane. Freezing cold walks through Central Park with Starbucks, sitting on the steps of the Met like Blair Waldorf, standing at the top of the Rockerfella feeling like I could see the edge of the Earth.  September 2011-July 2012- I got to spend every weekday with a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds who have the best outlook on life, help them learn, do loads of arts and crafts, have my life changed by one little girl in particular and get paid for it. I went back to visit in December and remembered exactly why I loved them and why I wanted to teach. Getting accepted onto my PGCE and starting uni (again) to become a teacher. Em's wedding, my best friend, her perfect man. It was the most gorgeous day, surrounded by love and  I had the honour of being a bridesmaid. Saw Les Mis at the theatre for my 23rd birthday. No words,just tears, lots and lots of tears. Finally manned up and got my tattoo, complete in my Dad's handwriting.



                      



Lowlights
2012 was full of the following : drunken mistakes, a lost camera and social boundaries, falling for inappropriate men and acting on it on numerous occasions despite knowing better, trusting people I shouldn't, secrets, lies and crap. General crap everybody could have done without including two more knee reconstructions.

Review

My resolutions from 2011 for 2012

1. Say yes to anything which presents itself as an opportunity for laughter and happiness.
I'm blaming this for half of the reasons I got in trouble at various points of 2012. For at least 8 months I had the mentality of 'Fuck it' and ended up in some horrendous situations which I would rather not care to remember. However, it taught me lessons. I know my own weaknesses and strengths, my limits, my expectations. And fuck it. I had fun figuring those out, despite the many undesirable consequences.


2.Don't be afraid of what comes next
At the point of writing this in 2011, I didn't know if I would be on a PGCE come September. I could have ended up in Tesco or temping in a B.O infested office and it terrified me. Being  an adult without a clue is not something I want to experience again, but it forced me to work hard so that I could have a back up plan. Thankfully it wasn't needed as my back up plan mainly consisted of backpacking and drinking my way across the world. This would have been fine if I had the money. I didn't. Thank you Winchester for saving me.

3.Be less quick to anger, and avoid/ignore those who are vexious to the soul.Unhealthy relationships deleted off of facebook and my phone, avoided them on nights out, refused to listen to gossip and generally felt a whole lot better for it. What you don't know can't hurt you. Not true. WHO you don't know can't hurt you, is a little bit more true. If they aren't in your life, they have no part to play in your un/happiness.


4.- Meet Olly Murs/Harry Styles/Dougie Poynter and make them realise they want to marry meHalf achieved. Olly Murs sung to me during his gig and winked in my (general) direction sooooo he practically loves me. Randomly bumped into the McFly boys playing a one off free gig in London, sooo this is also fate and he also loves me. Harry Styles? He spent half his time stateside, I have an excuse.

Lessons Learnt from 2012
Not everybody has moved on and matured, some people are forever trapped in high school. Tequila will never be your friend. The Tube Map app is a life saver. Music can change the world. Chocolate Orange chocolate spread is an orgasm for the mouth. You are not superwoman. Take your time. Go on adventures. Random hot tubs after a lock in are never a good idea. Work hard, but play hard. Time management is your friend.


Resolutions and Hopes for 20131. Drink and swear less
2. Pass my QTS tests, graduate and land a teaching job for September
3. Take a holiday
4. Spend more time with my parents

 

5.Rise above it.
6. Be better. 


                                Be Better
                                           In everything. To everyone. To yourself.

And Never Stop for Anyone.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing with this teaching malarky. It's not that it's not the right thing, just I don't know it's the right thing, right now.

I've grown up with two teachers as parents, my brother was going to be an English teacher, and now I'm doing my PGCE, so you could say it's in the blood. I've worked in schools since I was sixteen, I've made displays, marked work, taken after school clubs and sat in endless assemblies. I love working with kids, their outlook on life is exactly how we should be; they make friends in a matter of seconds, cry when they're upset and are excited by even the simplest things. I love seeing their face when they 'get' something, they light up, they're proud of themselves and what they have achieved, and knowing I have played a part in that is the best feeling in the world.

 But this is the thing. I don't feel ready. I went straight from my A-Levels, into my degree and then into an (almost) dream job in a Year One classroom. So I've never had that year where you work in Topshop during the day, and as bar staff at night for 6 months whilst planning your visa application. I want to travel the world,  to see Thailand, Africa, Australia and Fiji. I want to lose my passport, and end up in an embassy, to experience a Full Moon Party and not know how I got home. There are so many places and people I want to see and do. I feel at 22, this is the age where I should be doing these things.

 I know teaching is what I want to do, and I'm lucky to be on such a competitive course at an amazing uni. I'm fully aware of how selfish I sound. I adore the school I've been placed at, my little Year 3 class are some of the funniest kids I have ever met, and teaching them is an absolute joy. I genuinely don't mind the 6am alarm (and I never thought I'd say that, trust me, I'm not a morning person) because they're completely worth it.  I think it's just staring at the essays I have yet to write, the lesson plans that need doing and the never ending pile of assessments and marking which scare me.

It's the pressure I hate.

But in the end the benefits outweigh the negatives, the things that are worth doing are the things that require the most sacrifices. It's one year. That's it.