Sunday, 30 December 2012
New Years excuses to party.
New years. What comes to mind when someone says those two words... Party? Fireworks? Family gathering? Signing? The good ol' Alcohol? Or the strangest resolutions?
All of those mixed together with the odd argument and/or injury is the best way to sum up our celebration of new years.
'Party' wouldn't be the best way to describe our house at new years, unless you call the four of us with the occasional visitor, party food, party drinks and the odd themed napkin. It sounds sad but it's actually quite enjoyable at times.
Fireworks? There's always the yearly show of the bright, beautiful and slightly bemusing fireworks. The Bright colours blur together creating a neon picture normally illuminating every nook and cranny within our living room. Normally the show blinds us for a second or two, after this we would normally mentally curse ourselves because we are left with a blind spot in our eye.
Family Gathering. Our family normally spends new years together, we either go round our cousin's for a few hours or they come to ours. During this time we get the chance to watch a film, have the family debate and the odd occasional injury like I mentioned before. - if the injury happened on Christmas, like it did this year, It's not really likely to happen on new years. Now that I've said it I've probably jinxed it.
The traditional singing of the song is never forgotten. My family always gets in a small circle, joins arms and starts belting out the song, the only problem is I don't know the words, normally I resort to half singing, half humming things that sound like the actual words of the song. I should really start to learn the real words to the song, but the only problem is... I will forget them within the space of a few minutes.
The good ol' Alcohol is normally drunk before new years, normally Christmas, however this year we have quite a lot left over. I'm not really fussed about the alcohol; I'm more concerned about the food. I will eat most of the food there is without complaint. My mother will normally shout at me because of how much I would eat, then I mentally kick myself because I would've broken my new years resolution in the space of 5 minutes.
New years resolution. The new years resolution is the excuse to start something for no reason at all. example: Dancing, joining the gym, loosing weight, start a new hobby or talent or just keep doing what you're doing. The oddest new years resolution I've heard so far would be: giving up crisps. - but it's a good idea due to how unhealthy they actually are. - Giving up Chocolate. - That would be impossible to me because I would get upset then feel even worse not being able to resort to one of my best friends, food. -
or, like my friend mentioned, learn elfish. - I don't quite know why you may want to do this but it actually appears quite nerdy yet pretty awesome. Can you imagine talking to your friends in a language very few know? Sounds so cool to be honest. We have a whole life plan set out to learn this, we were actually amazed when she said it and the idea sparked off into many different ideas, so we're nerdy. Yes, we like 'Lord of the Rings.' but we think it will be so fun to try.
My new years resolution this year would be join the gym and take up a Zumba class and eat less and take up more time writing and try harder on GCSE's and Get the best possible grades to my potential and do things for myself more often... hopefully, It's worth the try. The reason as to why I would like to join the gym is simply because I want to get more into shape whereas the reason I would like to join Zumba because I like the thought of a more upbeat dance something to be a challenge to work with. The rest of the resolutions? well, they would be to set my life up and give me the best possible advantage. Spending time on myself, giving me independence.
What would your resolution be? What would you do about it?
~Soph.
Saturday, 29 December 2012
The deeper meaning of things. Are tattoos classed as art?
Art comes in many shapes, forms and sizes. It blows my mind and many others, I'm sure. I'm a complete sucker for art, things ranging from dance, singing or sculptures.
The reason why I love art isn't only because you can look at it and interpret it the way you want to or the way you actually see it, but you can also express any strong or hidden emotion in art.
The one form of art I love the best though would be tattoos. I'm not a fan of needles, in fact I hate them. However the art that comes out of the designs created by the artists simply stun me.
Below you can see a design of the Cheshire cat. The nuances within this design causes me to stop and examine every detail within the picture.
People may fall over within dance or even the worse case fall off the stage but most injuries can be fixed. It's the same with singing and getting the notes wrong but you can soon sort yourself out and carry on. With tattoos they are permanent. People do go through regret and often question as to why they have got it, maybe the cause was to annoy someone or having a little alcohol.
So why get it or do it?
I think like any other art the stimulus has to have a true meaning to you, whether it's an action, a saying, a song or even an memory.
If I get a tattoo - that my mother would probably hate/despise - I would choose something that would remind me of my Grandma. It would mean a lot to me and remind me that she is always with me. I would probably pick a butterfly. The butterfly would be a symbol of freedom and being in control of my own wings. This would show that I'm able to reach things that I want by simply setting my mind to it, or in the butterflies case fly to it. The butterfly would be an outline of white and shaded using a variety of baby pinks. The colours are linked in with a nickname my grandma used to call me.
To this tattoo I would link in different things that remind me of my other family members. A vibrant coloured flower behind the butterfly for one of my grandads, he spent most of his hours in the garden caring for the flowers like they were small individual babies. A small steam engine would be another way to symbolise my other Grandad, as he loved them so much. My mother and aunties used to be taken along to small fairs full with engines and apparently he was fascinated by them.
Obviously, I would take the time to think about the perfect design and debate whether I should or not get it. If I did I would have to look at a variety of different designs that would hopefully be created by tattoo artists because my drawings can be a bit terrible at times... I would also need to think about the needles. If I don't get a tattoo, I would definitely want a large painting dedicated to them, it would be original hopefully to show each of them as the unique individuals that they were.
People have different opinions on tattoos and that is mine. What's your opinion, should they have a deeper meaning than what they are? Or should the art paint thousands of words in your head and be interpreted that way?
~ Soph.
The one form of art I love the best though would be tattoos. I'm not a fan of needles, in fact I hate them. However the art that comes out of the designs created by the artists simply stun me.
Below you can see a design of the Cheshire cat. The nuances within this design causes me to stop and examine every detail within the picture.
People may fall over within dance or even the worse case fall off the stage but most injuries can be fixed. It's the same with singing and getting the notes wrong but you can soon sort yourself out and carry on. With tattoos they are permanent. People do go through regret and often question as to why they have got it, maybe the cause was to annoy someone or having a little alcohol.
So why get it or do it?
I think like any other art the stimulus has to have a true meaning to you, whether it's an action, a saying, a song or even an memory.
If I get a tattoo - that my mother would probably hate/despise - I would choose something that would remind me of my Grandma. It would mean a lot to me and remind me that she is always with me. I would probably pick a butterfly. The butterfly would be a symbol of freedom and being in control of my own wings. This would show that I'm able to reach things that I want by simply setting my mind to it, or in the butterflies case fly to it. The butterfly would be an outline of white and shaded using a variety of baby pinks. The colours are linked in with a nickname my grandma used to call me.
To this tattoo I would link in different things that remind me of my other family members. A vibrant coloured flower behind the butterfly for one of my grandads, he spent most of his hours in the garden caring for the flowers like they were small individual babies. A small steam engine would be another way to symbolise my other Grandad, as he loved them so much. My mother and aunties used to be taken along to small fairs full with engines and apparently he was fascinated by them.
Obviously, I would take the time to think about the perfect design and debate whether I should or not get it. If I did I would have to look at a variety of different designs that would hopefully be created by tattoo artists because my drawings can be a bit terrible at times... I would also need to think about the needles. If I don't get a tattoo, I would definitely want a large painting dedicated to them, it would be original hopefully to show each of them as the unique individuals that they were.
People have different opinions on tattoos and that is mine. What's your opinion, should they have a deeper meaning than what they are? Or should the art paint thousands of words in your head and be interpreted that way?
~ Soph.
Saturday, 22 December 2012
What's that mysterious noise?
We all go through stages of hearing things and thinking about it, whether it's songs, words/conversations or just odd noises.
Visiting a small village in Turkey we experienced a noise that was unfamiliar to us.
When we stepped outside the airport we were greeted by a wall of heat - even though it was like 3am. - we didn't hear much noise apart from the traffic and the odd shouts or car horns, bearing in mind this was in the city about 34598374598711 miles away from where we actually were meant to be and stay.
Setting off in an old banger type car. - Yes, an old banger car that was too kindly labelled as 'trusty' and 'cute/smart' by my mother's partner. It was the opposite, I would describe it as a car that was old. Extremely old. Probably not to be trusted either. It looked like it would break down as soon as you moved 3 feet forward or less. Luckily it didn't though and it lasted, only just, for the week, even surviving the torturous drive up the cliff. - We drove along the edges of cliffs at three in the morning, avoiding fallen boulders and rocks and the odd branch in the middle of the road. We occasionally stopped for the obvious toilet and food break and then carried on, I slept most of the way because I was shattered and it was rather boring.
After the exhausting drive to the village 34598374598710 miles away we then had to travel a further mile to find the hidden villa. Driving up every driveway we saw, small dangerous lanes and into the odd angry farmers house, with the farmer parading around in his discoloured pajamas shouting abuse at our lights, then I think he realized we were English and went back inside to bed. - Confused? I was. - it took us about 2 more hours to find the villa that appeared to be just around the corner from the farm. Honestly, I don't know how we missed it.
Getting out the car a noise went off, it was something that barely any of us has ever heard before. The noise was a cross between a balloon being scraped with hands and an deep voice humming. It was so odd. It turned out to be crickets. Millions of crickets around us. Once one cricket made a noise, the whole colony started. It was annoying to start with but sitting by the pool with dragon flies landing next to you and the singing crickets around you, I felt it relaxing but it seemed to morph into the background and harmonized with the on-going calls of the birds and goats, oh, and the farmers shouts at the cows.
Returning from the holiday my mother went to work. She had taken part in a leadership course dictated by the people she worked for and they tought her how to listen. Sounds strange but the odd minor detail we miss daily add up. What we hear is not always what is being said. There is sometimes somethings that are under the words, unsaid but still noticable. When she got in, she was really inspired to show us because it reminded her of the noise in Turkey, it showed her the true meaning of listening carefully and inspired her and all of us. It was shockingly weird. Take a listen to it and see what you think, it blew my mind.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujBTOPhGLMo
~ Soph.
Visiting a small village in Turkey we experienced a noise that was unfamiliar to us.
When we stepped outside the airport we were greeted by a wall of heat - even though it was like 3am. - we didn't hear much noise apart from the traffic and the odd shouts or car horns, bearing in mind this was in the city about 34598374598711 miles away from where we actually were meant to be and stay.
Setting off in an old banger type car. - Yes, an old banger car that was too kindly labelled as 'trusty' and 'cute/smart' by my mother's partner. It was the opposite, I would describe it as a car that was old. Extremely old. Probably not to be trusted either. It looked like it would break down as soon as you moved 3 feet forward or less. Luckily it didn't though and it lasted, only just, for the week, even surviving the torturous drive up the cliff. - We drove along the edges of cliffs at three in the morning, avoiding fallen boulders and rocks and the odd branch in the middle of the road. We occasionally stopped for the obvious toilet and food break and then carried on, I slept most of the way because I was shattered and it was rather boring.
After the exhausting drive to the village 34598374598710 miles away we then had to travel a further mile to find the hidden villa. Driving up every driveway we saw, small dangerous lanes and into the odd angry farmers house, with the farmer parading around in his discoloured pajamas shouting abuse at our lights, then I think he realized we were English and went back inside to bed. - Confused? I was. - it took us about 2 more hours to find the villa that appeared to be just around the corner from the farm. Honestly, I don't know how we missed it.
Getting out the car a noise went off, it was something that barely any of us has ever heard before. The noise was a cross between a balloon being scraped with hands and an deep voice humming. It was so odd. It turned out to be crickets. Millions of crickets around us. Once one cricket made a noise, the whole colony started. It was annoying to start with but sitting by the pool with dragon flies landing next to you and the singing crickets around you, I felt it relaxing but it seemed to morph into the background and harmonized with the on-going calls of the birds and goats, oh, and the farmers shouts at the cows.
Returning from the holiday my mother went to work. She had taken part in a leadership course dictated by the people she worked for and they tought her how to listen. Sounds strange but the odd minor detail we miss daily add up. What we hear is not always what is being said. There is sometimes somethings that are under the words, unsaid but still noticable. When she got in, she was really inspired to show us because it reminded her of the noise in Turkey, it showed her the true meaning of listening carefully and inspired her and all of us. It was shockingly weird. Take a listen to it and see what you think, it blew my mind.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujBTOPhGLMo
~ Soph.
Friday, 21 December 2012
Sellotape is everywhere.
Christmas is the time of year, no doubt, when most rolls of wrapping paper, sellotape and gift tags are sold.
Getting ready, wrapping presents, decorating the tree, even cooking the cakes for the family gets tiring. - They do their own things to prepare for Christmas, mine was to bake the cake, decorate the Christmas tree and sort out my presents and who they were going to. -
The best part of my jobs would be decorating the tree. I get to 'style' it how I want it to be, with the colours I want and the decorations in certain places. - If any of my family touched or changed the decorations or even insulted it I would have launched a 'festive' miniature Christmas tree at them.
The worst? The worst would definitely be wrapping the presents, although I enjoy wrapping square objects or things in a box, wrapping odd shapes like pentagons and circles are just plain frustrating to me. Either the wrapping paper admits defeat by ripping or I do and resort to getting my mother's help - I hate to do this because she seems to have the technique to do it quickly and efficiently whilst making it look easy.
Maybe that's all I need in the future, a routine to set me on my way, what do you think? Yes? No? Oh well it works for me.
~ Soph.
Monday, 17 December 2012
Relax, I have respect for myself.
Sitting on the table and listening to the yearly blasts of Christmas music, I thought about many different things. Mainly things to do with make up designs, books, lives and my life in general.
Thinking about the ins and outs of my experiences as a 16 year old I've begun to notice a pattern of me "Fixing things"
Seeking out the problems I find, I feel the need to make people feel better. Often I will see someone annoyed or upset and find out every detail and piece the puzzle together then explain to them what they could do and things that they might do to make them feel better.
Doing this "Fixing" I have experienced a few problems. One of them are described as "The black holes" Like in one of my other blogs and the others who tend to take it and throw it back in your face in order to seem more accepted. Anger instantly springs into my mind, I don't know about you.
Feeling these negative things again seems to give them power (Once again mentioned in another blog.) over your trail of thought, putting you on a 'Downer.'
When respect pops up though I find it confusing. I know, respect is so easy but what happens when it comes to respecting yourself and how you think?
Respecting my emotions isn't exactly what I do best, I appear to put myself in situations that can make me feel worse than better. Although I find happiness in making others happy, I don't quite know how to do things by myself to make me happy.
Absorbing myself in something to take my focus off another thing is what I would describe as happiness. Making up makeup designs, creating a fabity-fab meal for the family, making marzipan Christmas snowmen, going out with my closest friends or even just going for a walk by myself to give me time to "Zone out" and think about curious things that may pop into my slightly random/odd mind.
Fixing people isn't going to make me happy and in my eyes it would be like a form of anesthetic, it kills the pain off, however after this numbing sensation the pain will be streaming through your veins and mind, playing over and over again until you find a cure to stop this torturous feeling.
My life would be related to a candle. Burning in a certain way can show the emotions. The flame swinging from side to side shows me either an anger or excitement, the slow swaying flame shows a calm or a emotional side however when the flame is actually still it's curious. It doesn't appear to show any emotion within the actual energy or the room. The candle burns at a slow and steady point but in the end it slowly, gracefully and elegantly grows dimmer until it's a small wisp of smoke disintegrating into the air surrounding it.
Living the life that I am currently leading with the habits I have to date, I don't see this happening very quickly. Being 16, I can appear quite impatient but I'm sure everyone can be with somethings. - Opening the biggest present under the Christmas tree can make me impatient to the point of exploding. Others it may be the most special things from that special someone in their life who means a lot. - Changing my life is something I would want to do slowly and make it worth the while. To be able to live the life I want to lead. Whether it's dancing madly in the wind like a mad swinging flame or if it's slowly waltzing around knowing that I've tried my hardest in life.
I would want to have the best possible standards, as would you. This standard would hopefully be set by myself in the future.
The thing is instead of me wanting this, I'm going to have it.
I hope you think the same for yourself.
~ Soph.
Thinking about the ins and outs of my experiences as a 16 year old I've begun to notice a pattern of me "Fixing things"
Seeking out the problems I find, I feel the need to make people feel better. Often I will see someone annoyed or upset and find out every detail and piece the puzzle together then explain to them what they could do and things that they might do to make them feel better.
Doing this "Fixing" I have experienced a few problems. One of them are described as "The black holes" Like in one of my other blogs and the others who tend to take it and throw it back in your face in order to seem more accepted. Anger instantly springs into my mind, I don't know about you.
Feeling these negative things again seems to give them power (Once again mentioned in another blog.) over your trail of thought, putting you on a 'Downer.'
When respect pops up though I find it confusing. I know, respect is so easy but what happens when it comes to respecting yourself and how you think?
Respecting my emotions isn't exactly what I do best, I appear to put myself in situations that can make me feel worse than better. Although I find happiness in making others happy, I don't quite know how to do things by myself to make me happy.
Absorbing myself in something to take my focus off another thing is what I would describe as happiness. Making up makeup designs, creating a fabity-fab meal for the family, making marzipan Christmas snowmen, going out with my closest friends or even just going for a walk by myself to give me time to "Zone out" and think about curious things that may pop into my slightly random/odd mind.
Fixing people isn't going to make me happy and in my eyes it would be like a form of anesthetic, it kills the pain off, however after this numbing sensation the pain will be streaming through your veins and mind, playing over and over again until you find a cure to stop this torturous feeling.
My life would be related to a candle. Burning in a certain way can show the emotions. The flame swinging from side to side shows me either an anger or excitement, the slow swaying flame shows a calm or a emotional side however when the flame is actually still it's curious. It doesn't appear to show any emotion within the actual energy or the room. The candle burns at a slow and steady point but in the end it slowly, gracefully and elegantly grows dimmer until it's a small wisp of smoke disintegrating into the air surrounding it.
Living the life that I am currently leading with the habits I have to date, I don't see this happening very quickly. Being 16, I can appear quite impatient but I'm sure everyone can be with somethings. - Opening the biggest present under the Christmas tree can make me impatient to the point of exploding. Others it may be the most special things from that special someone in their life who means a lot. - Changing my life is something I would want to do slowly and make it worth the while. To be able to live the life I want to lead. Whether it's dancing madly in the wind like a mad swinging flame or if it's slowly waltzing around knowing that I've tried my hardest in life.
I would want to have the best possible standards, as would you. This standard would hopefully be set by myself in the future.
The thing is instead of me wanting this, I'm going to have it.
I hope you think the same for yourself.
~ Soph.
Friday, 14 December 2012
Transportation through the years.
My life was filled with many different forms of cars, ranging from BMW to Fords. This includes the slight pain-in-the-arse old (horrendous) bangers. We - Well my family - were prone to having these cars.
Surely, everyone has had the torture of sitting in a car that may or may not break down in the middle of the road, It's horrible. If not... keep it that way, don't risk it.
Today we are down to a small three door Ford - I think.. - and a large, white van. - My mother's partners of course.
My mother has had her journeys in the van and she was not pleased. Picture it this way: your mother in the passenger seat, sun glasses on, visor down, hair down, scarf covering half of face, large jacket and trying to keep as low as possible, this was to stop her from being seen by people she may or not know. It may seem humorous but if you are going on a rather long journey it may appear quite tedious. Sitting next to her, in the van, is possibly the worst choice anyone might make, especially me.
My mother's partner is the most relaxed man I have ever met, however his driving may be the opposite, it's quite like going on a go kart and swerving around every corner - so my mother thinks, I just think it's funny because she makes it sound so over-exaggerated.
Swerving round the corners in this large white truck, mum screaming and insulting his 'horrific driving skills' then his reaction of a 'Woah, woah, woah.' is the most strangest and original thing I've experienced within a car.
So the opinions of my families choices of cars are very.. uh.. different.
My mother wouldn't ever want to be in a van, so it appears and well, as for her partner, he is happy to drive anything that has wheels, especially a Mercedes.
Me? I would want to stick with a yellow and black motorbike. No, I know they are not as safe as cars and more accidents and blah, blah, blah. I just like the thought of riding the bike on my own and not having the complaints of the passenger next to me. The colour scheme? I love yellow and black on a bike, it looks more sleek.. if you know what I mean? No? Obviously, after a few years I would save for a car and lessons.
Traumas of a 'family drive' can be happy, fun, annoying or just plain rip-your-hair-out stressful, who knows? Well, you know a few of the experiences I've been through whilst on a 'family outing' are your experiences worse?
~ Soph.
Surely, everyone has had the torture of sitting in a car that may or may not break down in the middle of the road, It's horrible. If not... keep it that way, don't risk it.
Today we are down to a small three door Ford - I think.. - and a large, white van. - My mother's partners of course.
My mother has had her journeys in the van and she was not pleased. Picture it this way: your mother in the passenger seat, sun glasses on, visor down, hair down, scarf covering half of face, large jacket and trying to keep as low as possible, this was to stop her from being seen by people she may or not know. It may seem humorous but if you are going on a rather long journey it may appear quite tedious. Sitting next to her, in the van, is possibly the worst choice anyone might make, especially me.
My mother's partner is the most relaxed man I have ever met, however his driving may be the opposite, it's quite like going on a go kart and swerving around every corner - so my mother thinks, I just think it's funny because she makes it sound so over-exaggerated.
Swerving round the corners in this large white truck, mum screaming and insulting his 'horrific driving skills' then his reaction of a 'Woah, woah, woah.' is the most strangest and original thing I've experienced within a car.
So the opinions of my families choices of cars are very.. uh.. different.
My mother wouldn't ever want to be in a van, so it appears and well, as for her partner, he is happy to drive anything that has wheels, especially a Mercedes.
Me? I would want to stick with a yellow and black motorbike. No, I know they are not as safe as cars and more accidents and blah, blah, blah. I just like the thought of riding the bike on my own and not having the complaints of the passenger next to me. The colour scheme? I love yellow and black on a bike, it looks more sleek.. if you know what I mean? No? Obviously, after a few years I would save for a car and lessons.
Traumas of a 'family drive' can be happy, fun, annoying or just plain rip-your-hair-out stressful, who knows? Well, you know a few of the experiences I've been through whilst on a 'family outing' are your experiences worse?
~ Soph.
Thursday, 13 December 2012
Changing myself to suit you.
So, I'm sure everyone has had a comment or an insult thrown at them, I know I have.
Why should people be able to define someone in one negative word and change or control their feelings? By letting them get to you isn't that a form of them having power?
The odd insults like "You're ugly" or "You are so fat, omg." "You're so self centered." are often said about someone who isn't seen as the model type that you see on Vogue or Heat. People who aren't the same as you aren't 'weird.'
Everyone is unique and original, inside and out. However some take longer to realize that and find a need to put others in the categories.
So when you get an insult what do you do? Do you:
1. Save it in a small jar to look at on a rainy day.
2. Take the 'thought' into consideration and change yourself to please everyone else.
3. Just ignore it.
If you picked one - sometimes I do this, not going to lie. - you are letting them have control of what you feel and knocking your confidence down one piece at a time. They shouldn't be the one to judge you and define you. It may sound more difficult but sometimes it's a matter of looking at them and thinking "Why should they be the one to insult me, are they perfect?" I would doubt it if they are commenting on you.
If you picked two you may want to go back to basics. Look at your life and what you enjoy most. Don't follow the crowed if you're fed up with it, do things that you like and have independence. You're beautiful no matter what anyone says and you should never feel the need to change for someone, ever.
Picking three would appear the best option, I certainly would agree. Battling the people's comments by ignoring them shows you are mature and you know that you are yourself, that's all you should be. - unless you are an actor.
Self confidence is one of my biggest issues. I'm always looking at the magazines dreaming of having that perfect smile, Hair and body. Looking at myself in the mirror basically all that appeared in my head was insults aimed at myself. - I know, hypocrite. - Reading one book changed my perspective, I can't remember what it was called but it explained something that has stayed on my mind for a few years. "If you keep spotting your 'down points' where is it going to get you? Somewhere where you don't think you are good enough for something probably." - For one week try this and see how you feel, it helped me. - "Look at yourself in the mirror, stop looking at the bad points on your body. Look at things that you actually like. Look at your eyes, your smile or even your curves. You are beautiful. Tell yourself that at least five times when you look in the mirror and mean it, I challenge you."
Trying that actually made me stop and look at myself. Not only on the outside but I looked at my personality, what I wanted changing and what I actually liked. One by one I felt the bricks being put back into place helping with my confidence.
I believe you can actually get somewhere, I did. You are beautiful and worth it.
~ Soph.
Why should people be able to define someone in one negative word and change or control their feelings? By letting them get to you isn't that a form of them having power?
The odd insults like "You're ugly" or "You are so fat, omg." "You're so self centered." are often said about someone who isn't seen as the model type that you see on Vogue or Heat. People who aren't the same as you aren't 'weird.'
Everyone is unique and original, inside and out. However some take longer to realize that and find a need to put others in the categories.
So when you get an insult what do you do? Do you:
1. Save it in a small jar to look at on a rainy day.
2. Take the 'thought' into consideration and change yourself to please everyone else.
3. Just ignore it.
If you picked one - sometimes I do this, not going to lie. - you are letting them have control of what you feel and knocking your confidence down one piece at a time. They shouldn't be the one to judge you and define you. It may sound more difficult but sometimes it's a matter of looking at them and thinking "Why should they be the one to insult me, are they perfect?" I would doubt it if they are commenting on you.
If you picked two you may want to go back to basics. Look at your life and what you enjoy most. Don't follow the crowed if you're fed up with it, do things that you like and have independence. You're beautiful no matter what anyone says and you should never feel the need to change for someone, ever.
Picking three would appear the best option, I certainly would agree. Battling the people's comments by ignoring them shows you are mature and you know that you are yourself, that's all you should be. - unless you are an actor.
Self confidence is one of my biggest issues. I'm always looking at the magazines dreaming of having that perfect smile, Hair and body. Looking at myself in the mirror basically all that appeared in my head was insults aimed at myself. - I know, hypocrite. - Reading one book changed my perspective, I can't remember what it was called but it explained something that has stayed on my mind for a few years. "If you keep spotting your 'down points' where is it going to get you? Somewhere where you don't think you are good enough for something probably." - For one week try this and see how you feel, it helped me. - "Look at yourself in the mirror, stop looking at the bad points on your body. Look at things that you actually like. Look at your eyes, your smile or even your curves. You are beautiful. Tell yourself that at least five times when you look in the mirror and mean it, I challenge you."
Trying that actually made me stop and look at myself. Not only on the outside but I looked at my personality, what I wanted changing and what I actually liked. One by one I felt the bricks being put back into place helping with my confidence.
I believe you can actually get somewhere, I did. You are beautiful and worth it.
~ Soph.
Wednesday, 5 December 2012
Snow.
Snow is either truly amazing or simply horrible.
I have mixed feelings about snow. I mean it's England. It's nice to have a change from the rain that appears every time you 'look perfect' but instead you turn out to look like drowned cat, but snow is like rain's evil twin.
It disguises itself as a cute, little pom-pom type sheep falling from the sky; it's worse than what it appears. Not only is it cold, when it sticks to you it melts. This causes me and about 87% of others to get to the brink of body parts detaching themselves due to how cold we could actually get.
The lucky 13%. These are the people who are sensible enough to wear multiple pairs of underwear, tops, trousers, jumpers, jackets and socks. They then waltz around like a hot water bottle with legs, arms and slightly visible heads.
As a young child, snow is this new creation, a lot like discovering glitter for the first time. - It's the same troubles as well clearing up after that day of "fun" creations, there's always glitter or lumps of snow on the floor. My mother had to endure those painful and probably tedious days, I'm sure your mother or father did also. - I used to be out in the cold as these tiny flakes floated and drifted down to my frozen, red cheeks, my mouth open as wide as possible to give me the best advantage of catching them. Normally they went into my eyes causing me to be blind. - We've all been at the point of fearing for their sight. This is mine, happening multiple times.
Snowball fights are honestly the most painful, evil but slightly amusing experience to-date. Getting hit with a 'light ball of snow' is one thing; getting a lump of 'hard snow' in the face is another. Throwing it at someone you dislike, amazing. - Or a friend if it's a body hit. - The odd challenge and banter within a snowball fight is fun, until you are getting chased by your older brother, rugby tackled and getting snow repeatedly poured down the back of your top... causing you to look like the next walking corpse. - Not actually be one, just look like one.
Hidden ice can be seriously fun, once discovered, or just plain horrific. Seeing your friends slip on ice is possibly amusing but when it happens to me, more than once, I feel like throwing a wellington at whoever may find the incident remotely funny. This seemed to happen to me four times in a row, in front of my friends dad and landed on my bum, the tedious thing was... I was standing still when I slipped... four times. Discovering ice and not slipping over makes me feel like the next ice skating champion. - I wouldn't appear it, I would most likely look like a monkey on skates, that's how graceful I actually am.
I don't quite know what I feel about snow, just yet. I probably sound like a version of scrooge who hates anything cold and wet, that's just me though. Being cold isn't fun but what do you think about it? I'm sure plenty of you will disagree with me and all the points I've made, had more exciting things happen or even waiting for someone to use snow as the next violent, free weapon on offer. Hopefully you are the one to get all those 'snow abusing' people back. Have fun. I know I will, indoors.
~ Soph.
I have mixed feelings about snow. I mean it's England. It's nice to have a change from the rain that appears every time you 'look perfect' but instead you turn out to look like drowned cat, but snow is like rain's evil twin.
It disguises itself as a cute, little pom-pom type sheep falling from the sky; it's worse than what it appears. Not only is it cold, when it sticks to you it melts. This causes me and about 87% of others to get to the brink of body parts detaching themselves due to how cold we could actually get.
The lucky 13%. These are the people who are sensible enough to wear multiple pairs of underwear, tops, trousers, jumpers, jackets and socks. They then waltz around like a hot water bottle with legs, arms and slightly visible heads.
As a young child, snow is this new creation, a lot like discovering glitter for the first time. - It's the same troubles as well clearing up after that day of "fun" creations, there's always glitter or lumps of snow on the floor. My mother had to endure those painful and probably tedious days, I'm sure your mother or father did also. - I used to be out in the cold as these tiny flakes floated and drifted down to my frozen, red cheeks, my mouth open as wide as possible to give me the best advantage of catching them. Normally they went into my eyes causing me to be blind. - We've all been at the point of fearing for their sight. This is mine, happening multiple times.
Snowball fights are honestly the most painful, evil but slightly amusing experience to-date. Getting hit with a 'light ball of snow' is one thing; getting a lump of 'hard snow' in the face is another. Throwing it at someone you dislike, amazing. - Or a friend if it's a body hit. - The odd challenge and banter within a snowball fight is fun, until you are getting chased by your older brother, rugby tackled and getting snow repeatedly poured down the back of your top... causing you to look like the next walking corpse. - Not actually be one, just look like one.
I don't quite know what I feel about snow, just yet. I probably sound like a version of scrooge who hates anything cold and wet, that's just me though. Being cold isn't fun but what do you think about it? I'm sure plenty of you will disagree with me and all the points I've made, had more exciting things happen or even waiting for someone to use snow as the next violent, free weapon on offer. Hopefully you are the one to get all those 'snow abusing' people back. Have fun. I know I will, indoors.
~ Soph.
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Not the normal thing that occures on Sunday
Our family, in some cases, is a lot like anyone else's family; after what occurred today you will most likely disagree with me.
Sundays is the day you or I would spend relaxing and preparing for the dreaded day tomorrow... but today was different.
Yesterday, my mother's partner had brought home some dead birds: pheasants and ducks. Dread was all over my face, I was not a happy bunny. I dislike handling anything dead or in pain. - Saying this, I wouldn't mind going along with him shooting for the day, mainly because I know I would never actually have the guts to shoot something or I would miss. -
Today, I was confronted by my mother. I was being forced into plucking the birds that he had brought home. My blood basically dropped from my head and was travelling towards my feet. I mean, how would you feel?
Getting pressured into touching the bird was one thing, pulling out the feathers was a step too far. After about an hour of complaining, I put on the radio and sang to it trying, to stop the thought of the bird in my hands appearing in my head.
After doing the job of plucking this poor, innocent, free bird I ran to the comforts of my bed. I barely lifted a muscle. - Yes, my bed is basically where I hide, in the depths of my covers is where I am and feel the safest.
I feel traumatized after this experience. It's one I never want to go through or hope that any of you go through, if you react the same way as I do.
This was not a normal Sunday experience.
~ Soph.
Sundays is the day you or I would spend relaxing and preparing for the dreaded day tomorrow... but today was different.
Today, I was confronted by my mother. I was being forced into plucking the birds that he had brought home. My blood basically dropped from my head and was travelling towards my feet. I mean, how would you feel?
Getting pressured into touching the bird was one thing, pulling out the feathers was a step too far. After about an hour of complaining, I put on the radio and sang to it trying, to stop the thought of the bird in my hands appearing in my head.
After doing the job of plucking this poor, innocent, free bird I ran to the comforts of my bed. I barely lifted a muscle. - Yes, my bed is basically where I hide, in the depths of my covers is where I am and feel the safest.
I feel traumatized after this experience. It's one I never want to go through or hope that any of you go through, if you react the same way as I do.
This was not a normal Sunday experience.
~ Soph.
Saturday, 1 December 2012
Traumas of leaving the door unlocked.
Living life in the Ellwood's residence isn't exactly the whole 'Unicorns and Rainbows.' Arguments tend to spontaneously erupt out of no where, mostly in the morning due to no one actually being a typical 'morning person.'
This one particular argument occurred due to me not eating breakfast. - not the best habit in the world but still. - My brother walked out before all the drama happened, then my mother's partner, then mum and then me. We went into the car oblivious about the door still being unlocked.
Walking home on a Friday to find your door unlocked seemed like one of the scream movies. - Walking into the house to find the murderer with a scream mask running around the house after you. I think I may be watching too many movies.
Naturally me and my friend opened the door and walked into the hallway very timidly. We checked the whole bottom floor and found nothing. I walked upstairs and found the flask I had left there in the morning.
Hearing a noise in the spare room I grabbed it using it as my only decent weapon and preparing myself to hit the intruder around the head as hard as I could - not that I would look scary. I mean, come on. A sixteen year old, with a blue flask holding it like a baseball bat. Terrifying? I doubt it..
Walking into the spare room took me quite a long time, I wanted to check if my room had had any damage done to it, then my brother's room. Nothing appeared to be wrong so I walked into the spare room, I was confronted by my cat diving into a pillow case. Not only was it a bit of a downer and all my adrenalin going to waste, I also had to save the case from the clasp of my cat or she would turn it into shreds.
The evening went on, I cooked us dinner, fed the cats and we sang to a few songs on the radio. We were fine until we heard footsteps in the hallway, we never heard the door actually open or close. The door to the kitchen was pushed open and not going to lie, I basically screamed and shouted at the same time. All in the face of my aunt. This is the reason why I always, always lock the door and you may need to also, just so you don't have the same experience as us, or worse.
~ Soph.
This one particular argument occurred due to me not eating breakfast. - not the best habit in the world but still. - My brother walked out before all the drama happened, then my mother's partner, then mum and then me. We went into the car oblivious about the door still being unlocked.
Walking home on a Friday to find your door unlocked seemed like one of the scream movies. - Walking into the house to find the murderer with a scream mask running around the house after you. I think I may be watching too many movies.
Naturally me and my friend opened the door and walked into the hallway very timidly. We checked the whole bottom floor and found nothing. I walked upstairs and found the flask I had left there in the morning.
Hearing a noise in the spare room I grabbed it using it as my only decent weapon and preparing myself to hit the intruder around the head as hard as I could - not that I would look scary. I mean, come on. A sixteen year old, with a blue flask holding it like a baseball bat. Terrifying? I doubt it..
Walking into the spare room took me quite a long time, I wanted to check if my room had had any damage done to it, then my brother's room. Nothing appeared to be wrong so I walked into the spare room, I was confronted by my cat diving into a pillow case. Not only was it a bit of a downer and all my adrenalin going to waste, I also had to save the case from the clasp of my cat or she would turn it into shreds.
The evening went on, I cooked us dinner, fed the cats and we sang to a few songs on the radio. We were fine until we heard footsteps in the hallway, we never heard the door actually open or close. The door to the kitchen was pushed open and not going to lie, I basically screamed and shouted at the same time. All in the face of my aunt. This is the reason why I always, always lock the door and you may need to also, just so you don't have the same experience as us, or worse.
~ Soph.
Thursday, 29 November 2012
Feel the burn.
This weather and temperature isn't, in my eyes, particularly the best... because I'm always, always cold, it always takes me ages to warm up and look less like a walking ice cube. Walking home, - well.. speed walking, simply because my fingers and nose would be at the point of detaching themselves from my body. - I walked into my house to find no one home.
So, like any good daughter, I tidied up. Putting all the dishes away and sorting out some Christmas decorations.
I lit a few candles because I actually love them, scented of course. - I love the vanilla ones. - By 'a few' I mean about 30 all on the table.
Naturally I sorted them out so they weren't all together; some of them went on the windowsill and on the table/desk. I had my hair down and lent over the table. - Not going to lie it was a bit of a disaster. - I singed about half of my fringe off; the smell of burning hung within the room. - I felt like screaming and throwing a hundred tantrums at once. If a family member walked in just then, they would've been verbally attacked.
I inspected the damage to see if anything had changed. The ends of my hair was shriveled and curled beyond repair, from far away I doubt anyone would see it. The smell was stuck on my hair. Thank god for scented candles. The vanilla had slightly masked the burning scent.
Next time, I will only have three candles alight, with a parent with me, just to be safe. Mainly so I don't burn the house down next time.
~ Soph.
I lit a few candles because I actually love them, scented of course. - I love the vanilla ones. - By 'a few' I mean about 30 all on the table.
Naturally I sorted them out so they weren't all together; some of them went on the windowsill and on the table/desk. I had my hair down and lent over the table. - Not going to lie it was a bit of a disaster. - I singed about half of my fringe off; the smell of burning hung within the room. - I felt like screaming and throwing a hundred tantrums at once. If a family member walked in just then, they would've been verbally attacked.
I inspected the damage to see if anything had changed. The ends of my hair was shriveled and curled beyond repair, from far away I doubt anyone would see it. The smell was stuck on my hair. Thank god for scented candles. The vanilla had slightly masked the burning scent.
Next time, I will only have three candles alight, with a parent with me, just to be safe. Mainly so I don't burn the house down next time.
~ Soph.
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Get out of bed, lazy. It's Monday.
Lazy is a term normally used by my mother and a few of my friends, mainly aimed at me. Yes, I admit it, I'm lazy. I go through days when I generally don't see the point in getting up for something that you can get later. - this is mainly why my homework can be late either due to that or me being very unorganized.
Yesterday wasn't one of the lazy days. I had quite a lot of energy, too much if I'm honest.
Going through these sudden peaks in energy levels can be annoying; I never feel satisfied until I have done something to use up most of my energy. So, like normal I resort to dance. I'm sure everyone; including you has had the odd 'Disco Groove' to some of the cheesiest songs... when home alone. I often do this a lot. The thing is, I will do it to whatever song comes on the radio next, heart radio, of course. No, I don't listen to 'radio one', like around 98% of my friends do.
Lazy days will always be the best though. Sitting in bed on a Sunday morning - Well, afternoon, depending on what time you actually emerge from the depths of your bed. - Knowing you don't have to do that much for the rest of the day. Wearing Joggers and an unattractively large top isn't normally the highlight of the day, it would defiantly be the excuse for eating mostly anything edible, that has been bought from the loving supermarket and stored in your cupboard, then laying down on the floor whilst watching television because you may feel too full to move. Once this has started I never, ever, ever want a Monday to come along and spoil it, knowing you have to wait another full week until you can go through the small bit of paradise you went though just then.
Don't make me go back, please!" is the morning statement I repeatedly say to my mother as she shouts at me to hurry up. - It's either getting a lift early or walking to school in a temperature of -14392 and winds that would most likely push me over due to energy and the amount I lack in the mornings. - The early morning alarm will always cause my eyes to glue together, my legs refuse to emerge from the warmth and comfort of my bed. I will press the 'Snooze' button on my phone repeatedly, hoping that the extra three minutes will help me have enough energy to actually face the cold that is bearing over me. This is the reason as to why about 82% of the worlds population never want to get up, mainly due to it being Monday. Dreaded Monday. The day that is loathed by nearly everyone, including me.
~ Soph.
Yesterday wasn't one of the lazy days. I had quite a lot of energy, too much if I'm honest.
Going through these sudden peaks in energy levels can be annoying; I never feel satisfied until I have done something to use up most of my energy. So, like normal I resort to dance. I'm sure everyone; including you has had the odd 'Disco Groove' to some of the cheesiest songs... when home alone. I often do this a lot. The thing is, I will do it to whatever song comes on the radio next, heart radio, of course. No, I don't listen to 'radio one', like around 98% of my friends do.
Lazy days will always be the best though. Sitting in bed on a Sunday morning - Well, afternoon, depending on what time you actually emerge from the depths of your bed. - Knowing you don't have to do that much for the rest of the day. Wearing Joggers and an unattractively large top isn't normally the highlight of the day, it would defiantly be the excuse for eating mostly anything edible, that has been bought from the loving supermarket and stored in your cupboard, then laying down on the floor whilst watching television because you may feel too full to move. Once this has started I never, ever, ever want a Monday to come along and spoil it, knowing you have to wait another full week until you can go through the small bit of paradise you went though just then.
Don't make me go back, please!" is the morning statement I repeatedly say to my mother as she shouts at me to hurry up. - It's either getting a lift early or walking to school in a temperature of -14392 and winds that would most likely push me over due to energy and the amount I lack in the mornings. - The early morning alarm will always cause my eyes to glue together, my legs refuse to emerge from the warmth and comfort of my bed. I will press the 'Snooze' button on my phone repeatedly, hoping that the extra three minutes will help me have enough energy to actually face the cold that is bearing over me. This is the reason as to why about 82% of the worlds population never want to get up, mainly due to it being Monday. Dreaded Monday. The day that is loathed by nearly everyone, including me.
~ Soph.
Monday, 26 November 2012
Strumming away with the fairies.
I am always thinking about all the songs I listen to and mainly one of my favorites; A Day To Remember - If It Means Alot To You.
I always dream about being up on a stage with one clear spot light, a stool, a guitar and singing my heart out. - Saying this, I doubt it would happen due to my lack of singing skills and confidence, but a girl can dream right?
I have never really gone a day without the thought of playing either the guitar or the piano. The only thing I can really manage to play on the piano is "Mary had a little lamb" and even then, I normally get some of the notes wrong. I would love to be able to play a variety of songs, mainly Coldplay or Adele. This would give me an excuse of pouring all my anger into something more expressing, even cure me of my spare time and the lack of things I have to fill it with.
I'm sure there is something you are dreaming of right now, wishing you could do something that would fill your time up, thinking about all the energy you may use up doing it and even the emotions you would use along side it.
When and if I have children, I will force them into playing something along the lines of the piano and/or the guitar, simply to get them to have the most opportunity possible, not saying that I didn't, because I did. As a child, I always visualized music lessons as unnecessary torture. Boy, was I wrong. There's always the odd day dreams, where I can be strumming away with the fairies.
~ Soph.
I always dream about being up on a stage with one clear spot light, a stool, a guitar and singing my heart out. - Saying this, I doubt it would happen due to my lack of singing skills and confidence, but a girl can dream right?
I have never really gone a day without the thought of playing either the guitar or the piano. The only thing I can really manage to play on the piano is "Mary had a little lamb" and even then, I normally get some of the notes wrong. I would love to be able to play a variety of songs, mainly Coldplay or Adele. This would give me an excuse of pouring all my anger into something more expressing, even cure me of my spare time and the lack of things I have to fill it with.
I'm sure there is something you are dreaming of right now, wishing you could do something that would fill your time up, thinking about all the energy you may use up doing it and even the emotions you would use along side it.
When and if I have children, I will force them into playing something along the lines of the piano and/or the guitar, simply to get them to have the most opportunity possible, not saying that I didn't, because I did. As a child, I always visualized music lessons as unnecessary torture. Boy, was I wrong. There's always the odd day dreams, where I can be strumming away with the fairies.
~ Soph.
Unanswered questions.
Sitting at my table whilst listening to Michael Jackson, eating chocolate buttons, drinking a glass of Sprite, surfing the internet, a sudden thought popped into mind. - No, a bit of 'MJ' never hurt anyone and music normally helps me with concentration.
Is being 'selfish' a positive or a negative feeling? Two people out of the three I asked, said it was a negative feeling, however they didn't give a reason as to why. The one person who said it was a positive feeling said "Because sharing things doesn't always makes you happy." What would you say? Personally I would agree with saying it's positive feeling.
"What is she on about?" Is what may be running through your mind, look at it this way; how much can you give to someone with out regret? Everything? Half of what you have? A few pounds a month? We all want to give something to someone who needs it more but when is enough, enough?
Someone told me a quote today that had supported my views; Charity begins at home.
In my perspective making someone else happy or listening to their problems, knowing you can help them out, can improve my mood instantly. But sometimes I have the problem of never knowing when enough, is enough. I wouldn't say depression is what comes to my mind. I would say my energy levels are slowly decreasing until I don't .know what to do with myself. A lot like a battery. There are people, who I would describe as 'Black holes' they suck all the energy out of you until you are completely depleted and drained.
I've been told off time and time again by my mother's partner. He repeatedly tells me that I have to work on myself before I try to help others. Getting dragged into all the gossip at school is perplexing. If you help the person who may be seen as the victim, it can cause more drama and debates that will cause you to get dragged in.
Is this a way to be accepted and loved by everyone or are we all living off the drama of life? Where did we learn to act like this, be like this or see like this? Where does it come from? Who taught us and how will we ever find out?
Confronting the past often seems difficult but it helps us move on in the future. Maybe it's time to change our thoughts, who knows.
~ Soph.
Is being 'selfish' a positive or a negative feeling? Two people out of the three I asked, said it was a negative feeling, however they didn't give a reason as to why. The one person who said it was a positive feeling said "Because sharing things doesn't always makes you happy." What would you say? Personally I would agree with saying it's positive feeling.
"What is she on about?" Is what may be running through your mind, look at it this way; how much can you give to someone with out regret? Everything? Half of what you have? A few pounds a month? We all want to give something to someone who needs it more but when is enough, enough?
Someone told me a quote today that had supported my views; Charity begins at home.
In my perspective making someone else happy or listening to their problems, knowing you can help them out, can improve my mood instantly. But sometimes I have the problem of never knowing when enough, is enough. I wouldn't say depression is what comes to my mind. I would say my energy levels are slowly decreasing until I don't .know what to do with myself. A lot like a battery. There are people, who I would describe as 'Black holes' they suck all the energy out of you until you are completely depleted and drained.
I've been told off time and time again by my mother's partner. He repeatedly tells me that I have to work on myself before I try to help others. Getting dragged into all the gossip at school is perplexing. If you help the person who may be seen as the victim, it can cause more drama and debates that will cause you to get dragged in.
Is this a way to be accepted and loved by everyone or are we all living off the drama of life? Where did we learn to act like this, be like this or see like this? Where does it come from? Who taught us and how will we ever find out?
Confronting the past often seems difficult but it helps us move on in the future. Maybe it's time to change our thoughts, who knows.
~ Soph.
Sunday, 25 November 2012
Hopeless thoughts.
Growing up as a little girl near Christmas is the most memorable thing. Putting my hideously wrapped presents, that my mother had tried to improve, under the brightly lit Christmas tree. The songs would be sung at the top of our voices made us all laugh due to our horrific, make-your-ears-bleed singing.
Christmas morning would be the same time and time again. Getting up at 4/5am opening the stockings, eating the chocolate and playing with whatever toy Santa had given me, mainly small dolls and the odd worm on a wire. The best thing of Christmas though was waking up my mother and dad. Jumping on their bed, alongside my brother, used to annoy them to the brink of hitting us with pillows until we calmed down. There was always that hope for snow, just to complete the "White Christmas."
Home Alone or The Grinch normally took our mind of it though. Everyone has their family favorite Christmas film. Ours is most likely Home Alone, than anything else due to it's simple amusingness. The smug little boy always makes everyone smile, if it doesn't, you're lying.
Soon after I was 8/9 my hopes and dreams came crashing down. Someone had told me Santa wasn't real. It must be a lie. Trying to prove it wrong was the hardest. Growing older knowing that "Magic twist" had slowly started to decrease. What am I going to do now? Hope and Pray? Stay up all night and keep pinching myself till he falls down our closed up chimney? - I don't know how he gets in a house without a chimney. He must be like a wizard of some sort, graduated from Hogwarts obviously.
Maybe he is real and those children just wanted to scatter my thoughts and confuse me. Well, we all know that Christmas gets better every year. Hopefully the Christmas dinner will replace that "Magic Twist." We will soon find out.
~ Soph.
Christmas morning would be the same time and time again. Getting up at 4/5am opening the stockings, eating the chocolate and playing with whatever toy Santa had given me, mainly small dolls and the odd worm on a wire. The best thing of Christmas though was waking up my mother and dad. Jumping on their bed, alongside my brother, used to annoy them to the brink of hitting us with pillows until we calmed down. There was always that hope for snow, just to complete the "White Christmas."
Home Alone or The Grinch normally took our mind of it though. Everyone has their family favorite Christmas film. Ours is most likely Home Alone, than anything else due to it's simple amusingness. The smug little boy always makes everyone smile, if it doesn't, you're lying.
Soon after I was 8/9 my hopes and dreams came crashing down. Someone had told me Santa wasn't real. It must be a lie. Trying to prove it wrong was the hardest. Growing older knowing that "Magic twist" had slowly started to decrease. What am I going to do now? Hope and Pray? Stay up all night and keep pinching myself till he falls down our closed up chimney? - I don't know how he gets in a house without a chimney. He must be like a wizard of some sort, graduated from Hogwarts obviously.
Maybe he is real and those children just wanted to scatter my thoughts and confuse me. Well, we all know that Christmas gets better every year. Hopefully the Christmas dinner will replace that "Magic Twist." We will soon find out.
~ Soph.
Just a bit of fun.
Today was eventful. To start it off, I came downstairs only to have an argument with my mother. She was in an interesting mood to say the least.
Thundering around the house sorting out everything to throw away that doesn't fit or that anyone has grown out of. Launching books, clothes, boxes and almost a computer monitor down the stairs, I went to help, ditching one of my friends for the day. - I'm terribly sorry to that person.
Her mood got progressively better going from a "I will snap at any moment" to a "I may or may not coincidently throw a pair of socks at your head."
Towards the end of the night, after we finished our dinner, we resorted to trying a bit of yoga. I downloaded a few apps on my mum's partner's Blackberry pad and also seeming as I picked up a few moves over the last few months, mainly from the Wii Fit, I chose to show her and her partner some. Going through the routine of stretching with her partner first, he didn't seem to get the hang of it, however I never really heard any complaint apart from where the stretching was happening. - mostly all the wrong areas. This actually appeared to make my mother more optimistic to trying the routine. Starting with some of the most basic moves, she looked genuinely happy and finding it a bit easy - until we came to holding our ankles. The groans and the odd insults mainly the term "Bastard" thrown at her partner caused me to start laughing. The fact that she was struggling after that with lifting her upper torso off the floor added to this. I have to say I enjoyed seeing her in a bit of a mood whilst trying to be "calm" to do the moves.
I think my mother may take yoga up as a hobby in her spare time, however I don't think she will be doing it any time soon in front of me and her partner, as it appears to make her stress levels rise. I highly recommend trying to get your parents to try some yoga, you may have the enjoyment of seeing them struggle to pull a move for once. Enjoy.
~ Soph.
Thundering around the house sorting out everything to throw away that doesn't fit or that anyone has grown out of. Launching books, clothes, boxes and almost a computer monitor down the stairs, I went to help, ditching one of my friends for the day. - I'm terribly sorry to that person.
Her mood got progressively better going from a "I will snap at any moment" to a "I may or may not coincidently throw a pair of socks at your head."
I think my mother may take yoga up as a hobby in her spare time, however I don't think she will be doing it any time soon in front of me and her partner, as it appears to make her stress levels rise. I highly recommend trying to get your parents to try some yoga, you may have the enjoyment of seeing them struggle to pull a move for once. Enjoy.
~ Soph.
Saturday, 24 November 2012
Where has my social life gone? Todays event.
When I first joined my secondary school, I actually had a social life. I would be out every weekend with friends. Off to see what's new in the shops, Play on the money-eating penny machines on the pier and just a chance to get away from my town.
Slowly my social life has been decreasing, until I only have a few weekends out shopping/getting away from the town every month. I know, "Loser" probably pops into your mind, it's also in mine too.
Today was one of the days I managed to get out, thankfully away from the stress of coursework, sixth form and college choices. Although it was raining all day we still didn't mind as we went to celebrate one of my friends birthdays by going bowling. I haven't been bowling in years, now that I was going. I did admittedly enjoy every bit of it.
One indecent did happen though. Not going to lie when I say I almost cried. I had thrown the ball down the lane and from out of nowhere I saw another ball fly down the same lane. Questioningly I turned to find my friend with a smug, sly look plastered over her face. Instantly, I felt a challenge coming on and the next time it was her turn I was going to do it back to her.
As she went to bowl the ball down the lane, I came running behind her throwing the ball down the lane. However, the ball had slipped out my hand too early. It smacked the safety net and bounced into her leg. This ball was a medium ball - quite light but rock solid. - She let out a cry as she fell to the floor. Seeing that she was okay by her moans and groans and slightly rude, insulting words I soon joined her on the floor. I couldn't stop laughing, along with some of the others. After my injured friend got dragged my her feet off the lane we carried on with the bowling. I lost quite badly. Twice. No surprise really.
Later that day we had got the bus back having stocked up on as much sweet food as we wanted. We soon arrived back in our town, thankfully the bus stopped right outside Costa. I love Costa. The aromas, the drinks, the pictures and the design all work so well together.
Sitting in Costa we chatted and tried on all the things we had purchased from Superdrug and Boots. After tragically putting on the lip tint wrong my phone had received a text. It was on loud and the ringtone was in my eyes a brilliant song. From the faces my friend pulled she completely disagreed. Maybe it's due to my horrible choice of ringtones that my social life is decreasing? Who knows.
~ Soph.
Slowly my social life has been decreasing, until I only have a few weekends out shopping/getting away from the town every month. I know, "Loser" probably pops into your mind, it's also in mine too.
Today was one of the days I managed to get out, thankfully away from the stress of coursework, sixth form and college choices. Although it was raining all day we still didn't mind as we went to celebrate one of my friends birthdays by going bowling. I haven't been bowling in years, now that I was going. I did admittedly enjoy every bit of it.
One indecent did happen though. Not going to lie when I say I almost cried. I had thrown the ball down the lane and from out of nowhere I saw another ball fly down the same lane. Questioningly I turned to find my friend with a smug, sly look plastered over her face. Instantly, I felt a challenge coming on and the next time it was her turn I was going to do it back to her.
As she went to bowl the ball down the lane, I came running behind her throwing the ball down the lane. However, the ball had slipped out my hand too early. It smacked the safety net and bounced into her leg. This ball was a medium ball - quite light but rock solid. - She let out a cry as she fell to the floor. Seeing that she was okay by her moans and groans and slightly rude, insulting words I soon joined her on the floor. I couldn't stop laughing, along with some of the others. After my injured friend got dragged my her feet off the lane we carried on with the bowling. I lost quite badly. Twice. No surprise really.
Later that day we had got the bus back having stocked up on as much sweet food as we wanted. We soon arrived back in our town, thankfully the bus stopped right outside Costa. I love Costa. The aromas, the drinks, the pictures and the design all work so well together.
Sitting in Costa we chatted and tried on all the things we had purchased from Superdrug and Boots. After tragically putting on the lip tint wrong my phone had received a text. It was on loud and the ringtone was in my eyes a brilliant song. From the faces my friend pulled she completely disagreed. Maybe it's due to my horrible choice of ringtones that my social life is decreasing? Who knows.
~ Soph.
Is foundation going to cover up your personality?
Why do you wear so much makeup? Is it to cover up that horrible pimple that may be lurking like a lurker on your chin, make your eyes seem bigger or brighter or have that "To die for" pout?
Girls using makeup isn't going to make them shallow? Maybe it's due to their lack of confidence?
Some people need to realize, however, that all the make up won't cover up your personality. People may see you on the outside as pretty and attractive. but once they get to know you, how will your looks match up to your personality? Will the bright colours suit the bubbly personality? Will the dark colours show that you are keeping something hidden or you even have a slight form of evilness? No, i'm not saying you may be the next "Evil queen" ready to feed snow white the poisoned sandwich as a backup plan, simply because the apple never worked in the beginning. Sometimes, you have to dig deeper to simply find the treasure you are hunting for. Good luck.
~ Soph.
Girls using makeup isn't going to make them shallow? Maybe it's due to their lack of confidence?
Some people need to realize, however, that all the make up won't cover up your personality. People may see you on the outside as pretty and attractive. but once they get to know you, how will your looks match up to your personality? Will the bright colours suit the bubbly personality? Will the dark colours show that you are keeping something hidden or you even have a slight form of evilness? No, i'm not saying you may be the next "Evil queen" ready to feed snow white the poisoned sandwich as a backup plan, simply because the apple never worked in the beginning. Sometimes, you have to dig deeper to simply find the treasure you are hunting for. Good luck.
~ Soph.
My worst fear.
One of my many fears is walking into a room, getting comfortable and then seeing a massive spider scuttle in front of you. Okay, so that isn't the worst bit, losing it is.
I am one of the many people who hate/fear spiders. It started from quite an early age, when my dad found a spider right behind me. This wasn't a small spider about the size of a tea light, it was about the size of a small dog. I was petrified. I admit that I ran out as fast as I could, mainly because not only was my dad picking it up, he is the type of person that would run after you and put it on you.
Ever since then if someone has a spider or one is in the room I will most likely scream at you, until you get it out of the house. Where as if I'm home alone and I see a spider, my new best friend turns into the Hoover. It seems like the easiest way of getting it away from me. I sound so cruel by putting it like that but it's better than having a whole colony of baby minion spiders around.
Not going to lie in saying; my mothers fear of spiders seems 100% worse than mine and she always seems to get the worst events. Although I had two spiders on my bed before I went to sleep, she had a much worse event on one particular morning.
Like every morning we would take our time to pick out what looks best for what day for her, so she looks smart, casual and approachable. We were going through what shoes might go with her brightly coloured dress. Slipping her feet into her perfect, black, matte shoes, she then started complaining about something inside her shoe. Normally, I would go do my make up as we had to leave in under 15 minutes. The complaining soon got so bad that she let out a shockingly high pitched scream. - This was a scream that could've woken up most of the town. Her complaints was due to a massive, fat spider wriggling in the bottom of her shoe. The horrible thing was that the spider then ran under her bed, the cat just watched it fly my with a smug look on its face. The screaming didn't stop there, we have never found the spider since. She hasn't worn the shoes nearly as much as she did before, I do not blame her.
Now that I have wrote this, it's basically handing my worst fears over to the people who may dislike me. Oh well, have fun.
~ Soph.
I am one of the many people who hate/fear spiders. It started from quite an early age, when my dad found a spider right behind me. This wasn't a small spider about the size of a tea light, it was about the size of a small dog. I was petrified. I admit that I ran out as fast as I could, mainly because not only was my dad picking it up, he is the type of person that would run after you and put it on you.
Ever since then if someone has a spider or one is in the room I will most likely scream at you, until you get it out of the house. Where as if I'm home alone and I see a spider, my new best friend turns into the Hoover. It seems like the easiest way of getting it away from me. I sound so cruel by putting it like that but it's better than having a whole colony of baby minion spiders around.
Not going to lie in saying; my mothers fear of spiders seems 100% worse than mine and she always seems to get the worst events. Although I had two spiders on my bed before I went to sleep, she had a much worse event on one particular morning.
Like every morning we would take our time to pick out what looks best for what day for her, so she looks smart, casual and approachable. We were going through what shoes might go with her brightly coloured dress. Slipping her feet into her perfect, black, matte shoes, she then started complaining about something inside her shoe. Normally, I would go do my make up as we had to leave in under 15 minutes. The complaining soon got so bad that she let out a shockingly high pitched scream. - This was a scream that could've woken up most of the town. Her complaints was due to a massive, fat spider wriggling in the bottom of her shoe. The horrible thing was that the spider then ran under her bed, the cat just watched it fly my with a smug look on its face. The screaming didn't stop there, we have never found the spider since. She hasn't worn the shoes nearly as much as she did before, I do not blame her.
Now that I have wrote this, it's basically handing my worst fears over to the people who may dislike me. Oh well, have fun.
~ Soph.
Negative minds and positive thinkers
Why is negativity normally over-powering our minds? We could constantly think we are too fat, too ugly, never good enough or always the person who comes last. I'm almost certain that we've all been there.
Within the Youtube video it showed him how he goes through his day to day jobs without any help. It honestly amazed me as to how positive he actually was. He even explained that when he fell over - to me it seemed nearly impossible that he couldn't get up without some help. However he proved me wrong. He got up with ease and after I was shocked. He explains that getting up was harder until he learned a way of doing it. It's a lot like putting yourself down, how are you going to get up after you hit rock bottom? Is someone else going to help you, or are you going to use your thoughts and fight to get back up onto your feet.
However, watching a clip on Youtube my thoughts changed completely. The clip was called "Never give up by Nick Vujicic"
So, I'm watching this clip that my mother's partner had found on Youtube. Being him I thought it would be a seriously old comedy that he loved to watch. Thundering down the stairs, I then stood next to him to see what he has found. The clip brought tears to my eyes and made me rethink what i'm like. Negative thoughts about myself isn't going to make me better or stronger? Spotting my flaws seemed nearly impossible to me until that clip had finished.
If I were to meet this man I would never want to leave his side. My curiosity would take over and I would want to find out all the stories and battles he did whilst he was growing up.
This man has probably changed the way I think completely within an hour. I have no doubt that anyone could've moved me in the way that he did. Hopefully you will find something like that to change your perspective on, not only yourself but the people around you aswell. If you have any spare time it might be worth the watch. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snDQe3tWwRQ
~ Soph.
~ Soph.
Friday, 23 November 2012
Horse wonder.
So, I've been thinking lately. Why have some of the younger generation games become so intense and Difficult. No, I'm not stupid.
The other day I was so bored I was practically hitting my face with a keyboard and refreshing my homepage on Facebook, too many times I can't even begin to count now. By the side an advertisement popped up. Naturally me, being me, I clicked on it because I was curious. It was a horse game for the younger people who want their own virtual horse. Okay, it seemed to look interesting so I started it off going by the rules, learning the basics until I was left by myself. I had to help the horse grow. I fed it, gave it water, sleep and exercise. As soon as I got the hand of it and it started to grow I was soon able to take my horse on "Small rides up hills" and "Trots through the woods."
I was actually, admittedly getting dragged into the game. Helping my horse to grow and be a healthy horse to ride. Just as I went to give it more water I got a notification at the bottom part of the screen on the game. Yes, it said "Your horse has been over worked too quickly therefore you have killed it." I'm a murderer. A virtual horse murderer. The guilt turned into confusion. The way they worded it seemed to be a bit brutal and harsh for younger children? Also, the fact that I failed at it, me being a 16 year old, means surely either they may find it impossible or I'm just terribly bad at games altogether. I would probably go with option two.
~ Soph.
The other day I was so bored I was practically hitting my face with a keyboard and refreshing my homepage on Facebook, too many times I can't even begin to count now. By the side an advertisement popped up. Naturally me, being me, I clicked on it because I was curious. It was a horse game for the younger people who want their own virtual horse. Okay, it seemed to look interesting so I started it off going by the rules, learning the basics until I was left by myself. I had to help the horse grow. I fed it, gave it water, sleep and exercise. As soon as I got the hand of it and it started to grow I was soon able to take my horse on "Small rides up hills" and "Trots through the woods."
I was actually, admittedly getting dragged into the game. Helping my horse to grow and be a healthy horse to ride. Just as I went to give it more water I got a notification at the bottom part of the screen on the game. Yes, it said "Your horse has been over worked too quickly therefore you have killed it." I'm a murderer. A virtual horse murderer. The guilt turned into confusion. The way they worded it seemed to be a bit brutal and harsh for younger children? Also, the fact that I failed at it, me being a 16 year old, means surely either they may find it impossible or I'm just terribly bad at games altogether. I would probably go with option two.
~ Soph.
Once in a lifetime experience; Tri camp and the hike.
Tri camp is a camp for explorers or the scouts. I was one of the many that attended this camp and I have to say it was one of the most unbelievable, funny experience I've ever had. The Dutch explorers were so easy to talk to and open. The Swedish all seemed up for a banter and card games.
One of the many things we had to go through was a two day hike in different groups of roughly 5-9 people. I will not lie. The walking was horrible, as any form of exercise along the lines of walking, running or jogging for too long will make me complain about 99.6% of the time. After walking for about 2-3 hours we then had to endure a bike ride through sand, tarmac and mud. We looked like we had jumped into a puddle and visited a beach all in one. After the bike ride we walked for about 2-3 more hours and got lost. Thankfully we had the Dutch people to help us or we would still be stuck in the woods wondering where the hell we are. Happily they picked us up because everyone seemed to be struggling with their hike. After making a camp out of a large sheet of plastic and poles we camped in the open. It was actually rather fun. Apart from the whole tent collapsing halfway through the night.. on the second day it took us a further 7-8 hours of walking through the woods. Getting back to camp seemed like the best option to me to a tent with not only my phone and music but the comforts of sleep.
This experience is something that will be with me for a long time. The nights by the fire singing different songs, the food, the places we went, the games and the "Haunted midnight walk." - it was a chance to scare the scouts and some of the leaders, as you can tell I enjoyed it seeing everyone bring together their brilliant acting skills and my pretty terrible impersonation of an orphan and her twin, my friend. - Everything together just completed the camp and made it one of the most unique experiences.. that most of us will be grateful for being able to go though and be a part of.
~ Soph.
This experience is something that will be with me for a long time. The nights by the fire singing different songs, the food, the places we went, the games and the "Haunted midnight walk." - it was a chance to scare the scouts and some of the leaders, as you can tell I enjoyed it seeing everyone bring together their brilliant acting skills and my pretty terrible impersonation of an orphan and her twin, my friend. - Everything together just completed the camp and made it one of the most unique experiences.. that most of us will be grateful for being able to go though and be a part of.
~ Soph.
Destination: Turkey mountains. One of the limited journeys abroad.
On this particular holiday I felt like a slag. I was walking around in not only very skimpy shorts but the fact that some of the tops covered them made it even worse. The reason why I felt so our of place was due to the village appearing extremely religious. The quiet village of Uzumlu. Mostly everyone would appear to be wearing knee length skirts or 3/4 length trousers, no shorter or you would appear to be frowned upon. A lot like a mouse within a city immersed in rats. - Stupid comparison, I know.
The location, Environment and sights were beyond amazing. They were even breath taking on a few occasions. The beauty didn't stop coming. The mountains, the exotic and exquisite flowers, even the bugs. - Apart from that horribly huge spider, about the three times the size of your hand, scuttling at 105mph past you. losing it was a nightmare. The fact that it was outside kept us at ease, a little.
The mountains. I could say so much about this one particular mountain that we drove up. Yes, we went in a little, old car. The car appeared to be struggling, I'm not surprised due to the way my mother's boyfriend manhandled it.
So, imagine the biggest cliff near you and driving up a road on the edge of it. That's what we experienced. A near death moment. This was horrific for me and my mother, we are not and defiantly never, ever going to be adrenaline junkies. I'm even surprised now that we lived through that. The roads were so small and narrow that it seemed only three quarters of the car could actually fit on the road without struggling. Peering over the edge felt too dangerous to me, setting the car off balance could make us plunge to our deaths at the 3000 foot drop. No, the road didn't even have a fence. - not that that would make much difference. - Winding around the cliff edge felt so horrible, it even brings a nauseating feeling to me right now. Was it worth all the trauma? I would have to say yes. The sights were something you couldn't begin to imagine. Seeing the neighboring villages and cities in the near by valleys felt like something I can't even put into words.
After all the drama of getting up the top, having a look around and having tortoise that the stray dogs had brought to us and left by our feet, expecting us to throw them like sticks so they could retrieve them. We drove back down the mountain. Me, sitting on the inside as far away from the edge as possible helped me feel a little at ease.
However, at the end of the road near the bottom my mother and her partner had swapped. This was so my mother could drive around for the first time in Turkey. - She didn't have her licence abroad. - Slowly she turned us into our little villas driveway. It was so long and bumpy. Saying that my mother had been speeding down the driveway until her partner shouted at her to stop. Forcing her foot on the break and almost giving us all whiplash we came to a stop. He jumped out the car, obviously seeing something we had not observed, with our limited brain function after the trauma of the mountain roads fiasco and curiously my mother and I emerged. We soon discovered a massive tortoise in the road. It was only about the size of a kitchen table and my mother didn't see it.
Winter Perks and Downers - inc. Christmas bests and worsts.
I'm all for winter. The cold crisp days biting and nibbling at your fingers and nose, the days getting shorter and darker. I love this time of the year, mainly when you can walk across the grass and hear the cracking and snaps under your feet in the morning. The best thing about this season is walking into a wall of heat as soon as you open the door to your house. I'm one of the 17% who have to suffer without heating in the house until my mother or her partner gets in. My heart goes out to the people who can't/don't have any heating.
The perks about winter is knowing that Christmas is soon. It may be a little early to be even thinking about it but come on? I just turn into a child whenever I hear all the old Christmas songs playing on the radio and seeing the lights glow in the town. I'm always hoping for a white Christmas, saying this there's about a 6% chance it actually will. I mean it's England. We basically get Rain, Rain, Rain, Cloud, Sun, Rain.
My life as a child near Christmas consisted of; cooking with mum, putting up the decorations, wrapping the presents my mother would've bought, going with the family to buy the tree and waking up early to eat all the chocolate on the tree. Yes, I was a greedy and occasionally selfish child.
Buying the tree was the best and the worst part out of everything. It was one of the worst due to the many repetitive yearly arguments about what tree is too big, too small, too fat, to bald, too odd looking and the definition of perfect. Yes, it matters what every tree may look like in your house. You don't want an odd looking, unfriendly tree sitting in the corner of the room, do you? - if yes, then you may want a lot of fairy lights and some cute small baubles. - The "Perfect tree" in our house is there to make the room have that warm, glowing feeling within the room. The "Perfect tree"(to us) seems like it's meant to make the statement in the room so it can be seen from the window. - I love seeing someones tree in the window. No, I don't go up to peoples windows and spy out the tree, I'm honestly not that weird. However, noticing the tree lit in the window as you are walking down the road just reminds you how beautiful that this season can actually be.
On "The Special day" I would say the best part is sitting down to dinner and eating the roast, that my auntie has lovingly created. - We would normally spend the evening around my aunts because she is simply the best cook and it's so much more homely there. - The dinner's always the best. The conversations flowing, the candles twirling around the table, the crackers popping and the terrible joke you hear every year but still manage to make you laugh. Hopefully it will be as magical as it normally is every year.
~ Soph.
~ Soph.
Thursday, 22 November 2012
The black hole under your bed.
Losing something is one of the worst and probably most hated feelings ever. Whether you are young or old misplacing a favorite toy, shoe or lets admit it tweezers and remotes.
Our household must have a secret black hole sucking and eating all the most important things to us. We have lost almost everything at least once. We've even forgotten where we put our phones - Leaving them on vibrate is the most unpleasant experience I had to endure whilst being at home. Hunting through the mess and the depths of my room was the worst. - So back on the subject of our household and it's own little black hole.
I've lost my headphones. I know, tragic. I listen to music mostly all day, everyday. Losing my most prized, bright pink, pro bud headphones is now the most horrific experience I am going through today. The depression of getting so emotionally attached to something and then having it snatched away from under your nose is just horrible and once again depressing.
Hunting high and low for my babies, I noticed something rather odd under my bed. Reaching to get this curious object I pulled out a small plastic duck. Yes, you read it right. A duck. This duck was not just a toy though. It was a duck that brought back quite a lot of memories. Mostly odd and pointless. This duck was from a Mcdonalds kiddies box. I think it's called a Happy Meal? Well, so this duck was called Rakkasox. - Inventive you see. No.. I won't go into a story about how the duck lost it's mother, blah, blah, blah.- This duck was pimped by me and one of my closest friends. We drew all over it stuck things onto it and stood it up to admire what invention we had created. This duck looked a lot like something related to Frankinstein, it could've even been it's pet for all you know. So, holding up this duck and examining all the odd and peculiar things attached to it, the memories came crashing back of the good ol' careless days of being young once again. Taking away the pain of losing my babies for about five minutes.
~Soph.
Our household must have a secret black hole sucking and eating all the most important things to us. We have lost almost everything at least once. We've even forgotten where we put our phones - Leaving them on vibrate is the most unpleasant experience I had to endure whilst being at home. Hunting through the mess and the depths of my room was the worst. - So back on the subject of our household and it's own little black hole.
I've lost my headphones. I know, tragic. I listen to music mostly all day, everyday. Losing my most prized, bright pink, pro bud headphones is now the most horrific experience I am going through today. The depression of getting so emotionally attached to something and then having it snatched away from under your nose is just horrible and once again depressing.
Hunting high and low for my babies, I noticed something rather odd under my bed. Reaching to get this curious object I pulled out a small plastic duck. Yes, you read it right. A duck. This duck was not just a toy though. It was a duck that brought back quite a lot of memories. Mostly odd and pointless. This duck was from a Mcdonalds kiddies box. I think it's called a Happy Meal? Well, so this duck was called Rakkasox. - Inventive you see. No.. I won't go into a story about how the duck lost it's mother, blah, blah, blah.- This duck was pimped by me and one of my closest friends. We drew all over it stuck things onto it and stood it up to admire what invention we had created. This duck looked a lot like something related to Frankinstein, it could've even been it's pet for all you know. So, holding up this duck and examining all the odd and peculiar things attached to it, the memories came crashing back of the good ol' careless days of being young once again. Taking away the pain of losing my babies for about five minutes.
~Soph.
Why aren't you paying attention in class?
So, my thoughts on "My future" I quite like the choices at my local, - well not quite local unless an hour away is classed as local - College. I enjoyed the choices of doing; Travel and Tourism/Airline crew, Performing arts, stage management and Law. However looking at my schools sixth form tonight caused me to get an eye opener; about the many overpowering choices there actually are. I looked around and noticed that I could try something new and no, I probably had never even heard them before. So, seeming as I had four choices to make I looked around for new subjects.
Scanning the halls and walls, many twisting and turning corridors I noticed these three subjects: Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy&Ethics. What would you think about this?
I love the debate about anything and getting my point across. I will forcefully/verbally fight anyone into the corner so they have to give in and agree with me. Normally, I will stay quite reserved until I know the person well enough. Mainly so they won't get insulted that I may not agree with them. - Sorry if you are one of the victims that may have had the blunt end of me debating with you.
If you are in my position, I defiantly think you should debate and choose what you love best. Knowing that at sixth form you will still have the chance of doing two years or even three years - if you are lucky - and the add on of a year at college. You may think education is hideous and vile. It is until you get to have the control of what you want to do. It's also how you like to interpret the way you would like to learn. Choosing the subjects that may suit your skill be it: Singing, dancing, painting, photography, Business, debating or even English, Science or Maths. It's vital that you choose what you enjoy best not what you think may suit you in the future because if you don't like the subject then what use will that make, you may just get bored and dream about unicorns fighting numbers - I don't do this, just before you get that in your mind. - I defiantly think you need to concentrate as much as possible to your core subjects. They will be most useful to getting you into your desired course in the future
~Soph.
Scanning the halls and walls, many twisting and turning corridors I noticed these three subjects: Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy&Ethics. What would you think about this?
I love the debate about anything and getting my point across. I will forcefully/verbally fight anyone into the corner so they have to give in and agree with me. Normally, I will stay quite reserved until I know the person well enough. Mainly so they won't get insulted that I may not agree with them. - Sorry if you are one of the victims that may have had the blunt end of me debating with you.
If you are in my position, I defiantly think you should debate and choose what you love best. Knowing that at sixth form you will still have the chance of doing two years or even three years - if you are lucky - and the add on of a year at college. You may think education is hideous and vile. It is until you get to have the control of what you want to do. It's also how you like to interpret the way you would like to learn. Choosing the subjects that may suit your skill be it: Singing, dancing, painting, photography, Business, debating or even English, Science or Maths. It's vital that you choose what you enjoy best not what you think may suit you in the future because if you don't like the subject then what use will that make, you may just get bored and dream about unicorns fighting numbers - I don't do this, just before you get that in your mind. - I defiantly think you need to concentrate as much as possible to your core subjects. They will be most useful to getting you into your desired course in the future
~Soph.
The Dreaded Thought of Being Judged.
Mostly anyone would be lying if they said "I don't care what people think of me." Inside you know you want to be the next person to walk down the street with hundreds of small, invisible tickets of confidence stuck up your sleeve, waiting for a chance to just burst in peoples faces. You may be disagreeing and looking at the computer like "What the hell is she on about?" But you wear 'Up to date' clothes that don't clash, make up, style your hair or even go to the extremes and name yourself "Indie" etc.
I always go through mini panic attacks. The thought of being judged and having sly comments sliding down behind my back. People say "society is the problem." No. Society is not the problem. Everyone judges people on what they appear like.
The man on the street sitting in the doorway with a blanket selling magazines, Hobo? The 15 year old girl with a baby, slut? I would highly doubt it. The man in the doorway may be posing as a "Hobo" he may be quite well off where his money is concerned. He may not even care about material goods or money. Someone mentioned something to me the other day; People who have a lot of money may pose as a "Hobo" to have a different view on life and think about the challenges people may have. The 15 year old girl with the baby? She could've been raped. Not down the deep, dark, demonic alley ways. Maybe it was by her boyfriend. She could've said no repeatedly.
I will try not to judge, saying that, when I see someones bag that just reaches to be in my clasp, I will comment on it. Not negative, - it's not like they will start to cry and hand me the bag to get the "Hideous thing" off them so I can flaunt it around. What's the point? - You may as well say something positive to make their day not only better, but it will give someone something to be happy and grateful about.
~Soph.
I always go through mini panic attacks. The thought of being judged and having sly comments sliding down behind my back. People say "society is the problem." No. Society is not the problem. Everyone judges people on what they appear like.
The man on the street sitting in the doorway with a blanket selling magazines, Hobo? The 15 year old girl with a baby, slut? I would highly doubt it. The man in the doorway may be posing as a "Hobo" he may be quite well off where his money is concerned. He may not even care about material goods or money. Someone mentioned something to me the other day; People who have a lot of money may pose as a "Hobo" to have a different view on life and think about the challenges people may have. The 15 year old girl with the baby? She could've been raped. Not down the deep, dark, demonic alley ways. Maybe it was by her boyfriend. She could've said no repeatedly.
I will try not to judge, saying that, when I see someones bag that just reaches to be in my clasp, I will comment on it. Not negative, - it's not like they will start to cry and hand me the bag to get the "Hideous thing" off them so I can flaunt it around. What's the point? - You may as well say something positive to make their day not only better, but it will give someone something to be happy and grateful about.
~Soph.
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