Awaiting Punishment

Okay, so I haven't posted in three days, which technically because of the weekend isn't so bad, but I'm trying to keep up a constant schedule here, and I've posted on every Sunday this year so far, so really I've missed two days. So, roll on the punishment.

We're All Going To Die.

And by we, I mean humanity. Or all living things really, but I'm using humanity as an example because y'know, its more relevant than anything else, given that we're human.

The sun is a star, and like a lot of things it has a sort of life cycle, except stars aren't living things so it's not exactly a "life" cycle, but it's just terminology I'm going with. So all stars start out life as just clouds of gas and dust in space. Then, because of gravity, all of the gas and stuff comes spiraling in and the gravitational energy turns into heat energy, and the temperature rises so it's really really really hot, and eventually some nuclear fusion happens and it forms helium nuclei with give out immense amounts of light and heat and stuff. This is where it becomes a star and it's oh so magical. Straight away it enters a stable period where it's all nice and neat and it isn't killing anything because all of the forces are balanced, and it's called a main sequence star. It's also at this stage where our sun is now, except it's about halfway through this period. But on the bright side, this period can last millions of years. On the not so bright side, at some point it's gonna stop being a main sequence star and to cut a long story short, the Earth is gonna be engulfed by the sun. It's kinda like the sun is initiating karma, because it's like it's saying to the Earth, "Hey! I'm the reason you have life living on you, but that life is slowly killing you and that's not fair so I'm going to kill you! Eventually..."

So yeah, when the sun finishes it's stable period and becomes a red giant, it's gonna swell to a really really big size and get really really cold, and there is absolutely no chance of the Earth surviving that. Again, we're back to the bright side, and I'm just suggesting that humanity is maybe, probably, definitely not going to be here by then.

With the rate we're going at, destroying rainforests and using all of the non-renuable fuel sources and burning them and ripping holes in the ozone layer (French translation: ozone nappy), if we don't kill off all of the life on our planet in the next few hundred years and we don't kill off the whole world with war against martians, unless we can evolve into something which can live without oxygen, food and clean drinking water, we're all just going to die out. This could be from what I mentioned before, or maybe the radiation we cause in our day to day lives will just become too much for us and the whole world will become infertile and cause self extinction. Basically, by my rough estimation, in less than a thousand years, there's a high possibility that there just won't be anything left living.

So, when the sun finally reaches the end of it's stable life, we'll be long gone. Well, probably. Due to the rate that revolutions have been happening in the past two thousand years at least, there's always the possibility that if we can last a few thousand years, we'll have advanced enough to build a spaceship to take the entire content of the world away from the earth to live in a different solar system. It could happen, but personally I think that if we're going to survive the next few hundred years, we're going to have to evolve, and the most likely way of whatever we evolve into surviving is if we evolve into something which transcends matter, and personally I don't see that happening. So really, in a few hundred years, we're screwed. Then in a few million years, the Earth will be screwed. The sun will be okay though, it'll just be little different, and a little lonely.

A Pledge To A Best Friend.

I'd do anything for my friends. If you need a shoulder to cry on or hug or rant at then I'm there. I'll talk you out of stupid decisions and make up ridiculous examples of morals for advice using highly complicated plotlines and predefined characters, if that's what it takes to make you see sense. I'm always here to listen and give you whatever advice you need. I'll tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth whether you want to hear it or not, because it's highly likely that you'll need to hear it. I'll always do what I see best, and I'll force you to do what you need to do. I'll cheer you up in ways only a beat friend can; terribly, but effectively, kinda like a derp. You stopped me in the middle of a blog who I now can't continue, so I'm stuck doing this one but I'm not complaining. I sometimes feel like I know so well I could pick you out of a line up, blindfolded, and you know that I'm right because you know I'm nearly always right about these things. I'm always here for you, no matter what, and I promise this to you now.

But jeez, I've gotta get to sleep.

My Hands Smell Like Cheese and I Am EXCITED!

Those two things aren't linked, by the way. I tried goats cheese earlier and it tends to leave a strong scent which I really hope will be gone by morning.

We started a project today, 'Padfoot', 'Wormtail' and I, and it's incredibly exciting. I have no doubt that Wormtail doesn't know the point behind this, and we're not planning on telling anyone about this. Our plan has so many flaws but if this goes well, we could be living legends. Anonnymously. I can't really give details, but involves a lot of creativity in writing and thinking and creating and plotting and the lark. It's incredible, but I think we might actually manage this. Even if the plan doesn't work in the end, the end product will be a magical thing that we'll keep for eternity.

I just want to make it clear, the way I've said that makes it sound like it's a plan for a prank, which it definitely isn't. If anything, it's the complete opposite. We're doing good here. Very very good, and I'm proud to say I'm part of it. I daresay word will spread eventually of our plan, maybe in a year's time or so. And when it does, well, I can't wait.

Catching Up

It's been a good couple of days, to be honest. They've been going at a relatively slow pace, which I'm incredibly grateful for. It's been filled with good music (even if some of that was forced upon me during a lesson yesterday) and a lot of laughter. A little guilt, yes, a little angst, yes, and even a little sadness. But not a lot. I've gotten an exam out of the way, I'm all set for parents evening, and I'm just starting on my way to learning The Sound of Silence on the guitar, with my makeshift cappo(capo?) and untuned guitar. I really can't complain at all. I'd quite like a new book to be reading but I guess I can't have everything. I don't really want everything, I mean can you imagine how hard it would be to keep my bedroom tidy if I had everything in existence crammed i here? That would be ridiculous.

I feel like I should say something smart here...

Ah well.

The Big Question

I think I am now able to answer that age old question now that I am wise enough... I have pondered this since I heard it asked on Friends many many many years ago, and I must conclude my answer thus far.
I pick Garfunkel.

Proving The Point I Just Made.

Watch "Simon & Garfunkel - The Boxer - Madison Square Garden, NYC - 2009/10/29&30" on YouTube

These guys are life-long friends. They met when they were 11, and had their big break at 22. They were amazing back then and they're amazing now. People say that they used autotune in this concert, but they never have. They'very always favoured putting echoes on the mics and the rest is just pure talent, and that is why I admire them. You can tell by the look of pure enjoyment on Art's face that this is what he loves doing, and the same goes for Paul, who instantly slotted himself back into the life onstage, as he looks so at ease and relaxed here, perfectly content. They're amazing now, just as they were amazing back then. I qouod give anything to see them in concert.

This version of The Boxer is very different from the original studio recorded version, and I miss the cymbals crashes and the unique bridge that they changed to an opera singer, but this is perfect in its own way, and I still love it.

Proof That Just Because They're Old Doesn't Mean They've Lost Their Touch.

Watch "Simon and Garfunkle LIVE 2011" on YouTube

Incredible.

Moustaches!

Just look at this moustache! As a general rule, Paul Simon (pictured moustached) is not terribly attractive, but slap that particular moustache on him, and suddenly, well, it's a very good look for him. On the other hand, Art Garfunkel (pictured, afro-ed) is slightly more attractive. still not great, but not half bad. He doesn't look like he'd suit a moustache, though.  Art has more of a masculine yet relaxed aura about him and a good smile, which works in his favour for some people, and he definitely suits the 'fro, and I guess Paul suits the mad hair under a hat, too. I feel like I should point out that out of the two pictures on the CD case, Paul wears the same hat in both, with different outfits. I'm taking this information as a sign that the hat should not be removed, or else all hell would break loose. Who knows what he kept under that cap? In my opinion, in these images, Paul comes across as a rather sophisticated guy. Certainly in the front cover image, he has one of those smiles that just says "heyyy ;)" and it's pretty much the same on the back cover. He just seems to be flirting with a look! It's very disconcerting, because moustaches should not be sexy!
Simon and Garfunkel work well together in the visual aspect in the same way that they work together in vocal harmony. I'm not entirely sure how to phrase it, but they just seem to collaborate very well together. They've been friends since they were eleven and I don't know if it's just me, but it just seems obvious in this picture that they are close.
I've been obsessing over these for the past few hours, and I'm rediscovering them in a sense, not that I ever forgot about them, I'm just reading a lot more into their lyrics today and picking up on more of the details of the songs. I can confidently say that I can tell their voices apart, and I can't describe how much I love them. They are what proper music should sound like. Songs like The Boxer, Bridge Over Troubled Water and The Sound Of Silence to name but a few, they're just incredible. The harmonies are as beautiful as try lyrics, and the music is so powerful, I can't describe how much I love their music. Their voices are incredible. I could listen to them on loop for hours and hours, just the same album on repeat. Their songs vary so much; some make me happy, like Cecillia and Mrs Robinson, but then there are the complete contrast of those, like Scarborough Fair which has a deep hidden meaning that you'll only pick up on if you read the lyrics or listen very very very closely, and Bridge Over Troubled Water, which I'm not ashamed to admit, frequently makes me cry.
I don't want to ramble on for too long so I'm going to end this here, but hear me now, you have not heard the last of this fantastic duo.

I Miss You

I'm really bad at poetry,
As I'm sure you are aware,
What I think is good turns out like mulch,
It really isn't fair.
It was so many years to the day today,
It could be eight or seven,
That God put his hand down on the Earth
And took you up to heaven.
I cried and cried and cried that day,
Why did you have to go?
You were a beacon my life,
Set here to help me grow.
I'd never really thanked you,
Or told you how I thought
You were the kindest person,
A better Grandma I could not have saught.
I miss you like you wouldn't believe.
Even after all this time,
And I'm fairly sure in thirty years time,
The pain will still survive.
You taught me some valuable lessons,
The day you left the world,
To go and comfort the angels,
I'm assuming, from what I have uncurled.
The first is that every day,
I tell my parents I love them,
Because one day your loved ones are there,
But as you proved, I could very easily loose them.
The second holds the same meaning,
That the ones who I hold dear,
Might leave the house without saying goodbye,
Then suddenly disappear.
Your death raised insecurities in me,
Things of which I always live in fear,
And every time I think of you,
My eyes produce a tear.
I really love you Grandma.
And I'm sad you had to leave us,
But I know you're here in spirit,
Sending love from up above.

A Letter To a Friend Who's Driving Me Insane

To an outsider, the following letter may sound a little harsh. However, the person I'm aiming this at knows that I'm writing this for her, and believe me, it's necessary. 


Here goes.

I have no doubt that you love him. Hell, I love him, he's awesome, but I'm not in love with him, and I'd hazzard a guess that you're not either, you just think you are. The boundaries of where we define love and being in love are different with everyone, but I believe that nobody can really be in love unless they really know the person well, and I'm sorry, but even though you may think you do, you don't. In fact you're nowhere near.
You realise that after September, you're probably never going to talk to him again? I mean, you're hardly part of the same social group. Sure there's Facebook, but he doesn't really seem the type who chats with everyone, so unless there's some obscure social gathering where you happen to meet, it's not likely that you're ever going to. You barely even speak to him now, even if he starts the conversation!

Let's create a completely hypothetical situation where you don't lose contact with him, you talk to him fairly regularly and you consider each-other friends. You're still not going to get close to him, and certainly not close enough for anything to happen between you. It may sound harsh, but it's true; I don't think you're his "type".

I admit it, I love him on some small level. I'm no more his type than you are, and I've acknowledged that as I hope you have too, because at least I know where to draw the line. I know why you think you're in love with him. He tends to come up a lot in conversation and yes, your dreams have been a bit strange, and I see how that would be confusing for you. You really need to drop this though. I used to (briefly) think the way you did, but I controlled it. It took months to gain control over that part of my mind,  but I've managed it, and I know that you can do it too, you've just got to stop giving in! What are you going to do when you've lost contact with him? Mope around for years because you never told him that you were in love with him? I advise that you don't say that to him because it'll only end badly, but I also advise that you don't mope around thinking that you'll never meet anyone, as you said to me only a few hours ago. Not everyone meets the love of their life in school! In fact, it's shockingly rare, and it's stupid to hope really, but then I guess in that case almost everyone is stupid, myself included.

You want me to post this now, and so do I to be honest, even though I'm nowhere near done, so I'll leave you with this message, which I mean wholeheartedly and honestly in the nicest way possible... Grow up. You're an idiot. You're a derp. You're living in your head and you need to come back down to Earth, because it's really not that bad down here, and I want my happy friend back.

AND STOP SNIFFING YOUR SETTEE!

Volvo B9TL/Wrightbus Eclipse Gemini seating

The above title consists of the details of a type of bus. I spent about two hours getting to that, and it's still not exactly what I need. I didn't think it'd need this much research, but its for a future blog post, and I think I'll probably just do the manual research tomorrow morning instead of spending hours and hours tomorrow evening doing hopeless secondary research.
Yes, this is another short post, and I apologise for that, but I'm working on something. Seriously I am.

Just Realised...

I can't believe I've only just noticed that you can't spell stitches without itches. It makes so much sense now!

Losing Hope

I don't think I'm going to manage this task. I've lost sight of my love for blogging and it's becoming more of a chore unless I actually have anything interesting to say, which I usually don't. I'm too tired to even make this an interesting post, even though I know what I want to blog about today. It's just going to have to wait until tomorrow for now. I'm sorry that I can't keep this up. I'll go to the end of February with this schedule, but otherwise I'm uncertain about the future of this blog. I don't like it but that's life, I guess.

Astronomy and Mutations

The tides of the sea are caused by the gravitational pull of the moon. Because the brain is the most moist part of the body, it is pulled by the gravitational forces of the moon and disfigured, just as the tides are, causing a mutation. Ergo, the theory of werewolves is possible.

This was pointed out on the Stargazing Live, and I can't even explain how excited this made me, although if you know me at all, I'm sure you can guess. I'm unaware of how the full moon would make the transformation of a werewolf more likely, but I'm liking the theory.
I love astronomy. The stars, constallations and the planets, they are endlessly fascinating. I think that if I do well in A level physics, Astronomy could well be a career area for me. I could spend hours on my Google Sky Maps app, even indoors on a cloudy night, as I haven't had the chance to test it on a clear sky yet. Maybe I'll go camping on a full moon, and spend the evening stargazing. Actually, I now have a ridiculously large desire to do just that. If anyone fancies that, I have a tent and three-season sleeping bags. All I need now is a telescope.

Hm.

I'm going to go and consider my career choices.

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I can't put what I'm thinking into words, or even coherent thoughts. I apologise for the lack of interesting posts recently but I don't have a clue what's going on in my head right now. I think I'm tired, stressed and overworked, my head hurts and i need to sleep. I wish I didn't need a shower right now because I'm so bloody tired, the pain in my ear is going beyond my pain barrier sometimes and I just need a night of full, uninterrupted, peaceful and dreamless sleep.

This is a...

Blog.

The Irritation of Time

This is yet another one of. Those times when one great event clashes with (several) other large events, even if it turns out that the first event wasn't as great as the first event, but it's still pretty damn epic.
I'm going to get the second event out of the way because I'm probably about to go on a rant about the first one.
The second event is exams. Horrible mind-crushingly painful exams. They require quite a lot of attention, which clashes with my first and most important event, the publishing of John Green's long awaited novel, The Fault in Our Stars.
I'm already very close to finishing it, having started reading at around six this evening, and I have read with many distractions up until around eleven. Five hours of not-quite-solid reading, and although I refuse to post spoilers, I've wanted to cry on multiple occasions already, and I have no doubt thy I will before the end of the novel. I'm nearly crying right now just thinking about it. I love all of John Green's books, not because he is a Nerdfighter, but because he is one of the most intelligent people I know of, and his books are more than amazing, they're awe-inspiring, and TFiOS is definitely some of his best work so far.
I do have one tiny issue with it, though.
Just a small thing...
A tiny little problem.
It's not John's fault at all, but when I pre-ordered my copy of TFiOS, I ordered it under the impression that I would be recieving a signed copy, as he promised over and over again that all pre-ordered copies of The Fault in Our Stars would be signed. In order to ensure that this happened, he had to sign 150,000 pieces of paper which were then bound as pages of the books. However, in order to make that happened, he also had to print copies of the books that WEREN'T signed. These are less common, but of course, everybody would prefer a signed book over an unsigned one, myself included. Unfortunately, when I arrived home from school this evening, extremely excited that the book I'd ordered months previously had arrived at last, I carefully tore open the Amazon packaging to reveal my long awaited (and extremely shiny) copy of TFiOS, imagine my horror to discover no wonderous mark of J-Scribble inside. My book had not been signed.
My first reaction was to search through the entire book, cover to cover, looking for J-Scribble's J-Scribble with shaking hands of desperation, but once I'd recovered from the shock to a large enough extent, I immediately pulled out my phone and went in search of @realjohngreen on twitter, where I found him to be tweeting about how overseas pre-order companies such as Amazon had screwed up, and hundreds of people had recieved unsigned copies.
I feel very sorry for him right now. He'd gone to so much effort (and given himself health problems) to ensure that 150,000 copies would be signed by him, and he's spent the past five months worrying and being reassured constantly that every pre-ordered copy would be signed, and all hell has broken out. He's trying to fix it, but he's out of the Great US Tour de Nerdfighting 2012 at the moment, so there's little he can do except aak everyone who recieved an unsigned pre-order to email their name, adress, and company they used to pre-order to sparksflyup (@) gmail (.) com.
He doesn't know how he'll fix it, and it may take a while, but my copy shall be signed.
In the meantime, I'm probably going to cry in school because it seems like a likely place for me to finish my book.

Last Minute Thinking

I'm a last minute thinker. I prefer to laze around and watch the world go by and then suddenly spring into action, rather than have it the other way around. I'm not entirely sure why this is but I guess I just lack motivation unless time is kicking me up the arse and telling me to go faster, and usually this works for me to a reasonable extent, but of course not always.

Reasons Samm is Going to the Prom

1. It's Prom
2. It's a tradition
3. There's only one of these in your life
4. You'll regret not going even if you don't want to now.
5. Really you will.
6. I look shit in dresses.
7. I look shit in makeup.
8. I look shit with my hair up.
9. Basically I look shit when I'm dressed up.
10. I'm going.
11. You look good in dresses, I've seen photos.
12. You look good dressed up.
13. I'm not sure if he will be there. He might not be, he doesn't seem like he would.
14. Even if he does go he'll be just as awkward and easy to avoid.
15. You'll enjoy it once you break the awkwardness barrier.
16. EVERYONE makes a fool of themself at Prom at some point, but never anything major.
17. I can guarantee I'll be the first to trip over my dress.
18. I'll need you to help me up.
19. Part of me doesn't want to see him either but still, I'm going, because I know that really do want him there.
20. It's going to be fun.
21. What isn't stupid?
22. It's not really goodbye, not at all. Merely farewell.
23. Popular kids make everything rubbish, it's nothing we don't deal with every day.
24. Watching the popular kids fight is funny as hell, which I guarentee will happen and you won't want to miss.
25. Nobody has money.
26. You don't need to have your photo taken. I'm not.
27. You SHALL NOT just sit there!! Oh we shall get you on yor feet and you WILL do the Macarena, the Time Warp and the food chain song.
28. And you WILL enjoy that.
29. Nobody can dance, it's part of the fun.
30. It's not boring.
31. Of course there's lots of people. It means that if. U don't wanna be seen by anyone but us, you won't be.
32. If you don't like eating in front of people, don't.
33. You won't be laughed at.
34. If anyone laughs at any of us we'll go ninja on their ass.
35. You'll only feel ridiculous if you look ridiculous and we won't let you out the house if you do.
36. Better a retard than a slag.
37. You don't have to say goodbye. Say au revoir.
38. Hello, LIMO!
39. The only time I've ever been in a limo was my Grandma's funeral. I'd like to have a pleasant experience in a limo.
40. You only live once.
41. I've put a lot of effort into this blog which I could I've used for revising. Don't let it be a waste.
42. If this was a waste, I will blame you.
43. If you refuse anymore we WILL force you out the door and into the limo.
44. You were just talking about going a few hours ago, and only doubted it when I said I didn't want to go.
45. You really do want to go.
46. It could be our last chance to be retards together for a long time!
47. You don't want to miss that.
48. If you don't come I'm not getting the flat with you and you'll go hungry because you fail at making cheese on toast.
49. You know I'm right.
50. I made 50 points. I win.

I'M GOING TO PASS TOMORROW.

A little bit of positive thinking there.
... Or reverse psychology.

Humiliation

I've under a lot of stress lately, mostly caused by the aftermath of the operation and worrying about exams. For those who don't know, after the operation, I spent a large amount of time knew bed, drugged up on pain medication and in no mood to revise. I'm partially regretting this now, in the sense that I really regret not being able to revise but I don't regret the pain meds in the slightest, because although I've stopped taking them on regular doses and just have them when I need them now, I'm still in quite a bit of pain sometimes, so yes, I really did need the pain medication. The inability to revise during that time was not something I'd previously anticipated. It's not just revising that I'm finding difficult even now, I'm struggling to speak coherent sentences or get my point across in any way shape or form, just in my day to day life. This really genuinely worries me, because for one thing I have exams all through the next month, but the most immediate one is this Friday, a French speaking exam which I've had far longer than anyone else to practice for, and yet I haven't been able to until these past few days. Obviously I attempted the revision, and I actually made some quite good notes and got a good start the evening before the operation, but now I'm starting to panic because although I think that I know the first few paragraphs, ish, I'm completely lost after that, and I still have to write my cuecard tomorrow.
I'm going to attempt to ignore the raging winds  outside now and try to sleep. I have a hospital appointment for my wrist first thing in the morning so I'm missing the first few hours of school, but unfortunately I don't get to choose my appointment time.

Changes

I'm going to get straight to the point. I've realised that I don't think I'll be able to manage blogging every single day for a year, even with my six days holiday, so I've decided that I'm going to restrict it to weekdays only. I mean that's not to say that I'm not going to blog at all on weekends, I'm just saying that I won't have to.
Instead of my previously stated schedule, my rules are as follows:
The seven days holidays are still in place, but I must state in advance when I'm going to use one. Yesterday counts as neither a holiday or a missed day because I hadn't decided on the actual rules yet, plus it is exam season.
Any day that I miss which has not been previously stated as a holiday requires a punishment to be set. These should be either humiliating or mildly disgusting, but not both and not dangerous. I have the power to reject punishment ideas. They must also be able to be filmed.
Days which are exempt from punishment without prebooked holidays are: up to two days before and including the day of an important exam, my birthday, important holidays, days on which or directly after I come into possessing of a new or long anticipated book or film, or in the unlikely event of death of me or a known person.
So there are quite a few changes there, and it might change again from this point on if it still doesn't work.

Thoughts From Places: Whitby

We're always told that family is the most important thing in the world, and that we should treasure every moment with them, and really that's one of the main things that my belief system consists of, among many other things. I love every member of my family, and my grandparents ae no exception. I guess now that I've lost two of them I've grown a lot more attatched to the two remaining. That fact is really the only reason that at twenty past nine this morning I found myself squished on the back seat of our car between my Nan and my Grandad, my phone in my lap and a folder full of revision tools placed awkwardly between my legs, which I didn't end up using at all on either of the journeys.
I woke up this morning to the sound of mum threatening to leave me behind if I didn't get up soon, because she intended to leave in less than half an hour. After two minutes of pointless arguing we establihed that she'd come in twice previously to wake me, and I'd spoken to her in some way, but I had no memory of this at all. This had, apparently happened before, and I think she accepted it better this time, which I'm incredibly grateful for. Eventually I dragged myself out of bed an got dressed, while still being shouted at for not going fast enough. It irritates me beyond belief when my dad feels the need to shout me from downstairs to tell me to get up, when in actual fact he has no idea that I'm already dressed. Mum then came in to steal some of my CDs, which admittedly I borrowed from her a while back. I hadn't even listened to all of them because for some reason my docking station/FD player was taken downstairs for Christmas where it promptly stopped working. Again, mum began to shout at me that I'd lost her Simon and Garfunkel CD because it wasn't in the case and she'll never let me borrow her CDs again etc. which we go through every few weeks, and I always find it in it's case within two minutes. However, I really hadn't seen the Simon and Garfunkel CD, it was one of the few that I hadn't gotten around to listening to. She still doesn't believe me. Paul Simon, for the record, had/has an amazing moustache. I mean really, it's incredible, but I don't know if he still has it. I hope so.
I deeply considered staying at home today. I knew that staying home to revise would certainly be a wise thing to do, but that I'd regret not going, and I'd probably waste most of the day anyway if I stayed. I tried to get mum to convice ke otherwise, but she understood that I'd want to go with them from about ten minutes after they left, if that. At this point going seemed to be the logical thing to do, and so I went.
We were out the door on time despite yet anoher debacle over where the car keys were, which turned out to be in my Grandad's car for some reason that none of us can quite work out.
The journey was long, but it gave me time to think. What I was doing with my life, why I wasn't revising (conclusion: I'm lazy), what I was going to blog about, and why The Pogues are so damn good? I nearly fell asleep in the last ten minutes, stress on the word 'nearly' because as I am now fully aware, I cannot sleep when I'm moving or when it's light, so I've got no chance in a car.
I love Whitby. I love its history and the beautiful old streets, the quirky shops and the people to go with it, but of course like everything, I found flaws in it. The first thing that irritated me about Whitby today was the fact that it was so cold. Apparently it was reasonably warm at home, but no matter what time of year you go, it is ALWAYS incredibly cold, except for the area direcly outside the kipper smoking house, which radiates not only warmth but the most delicious smell of smoked kippers.
Whitby is of course famous for being the town in which Bram Stoker wrote Dracula, and so it features quite a lot of vampire memoribillia and creates a gothic atmosphere which appeals to me for reasons I can't quite explain. Part of the character of the town is also given by the buskers situated in various places on the street. For example, today there was a man stood on a corner playing the accordion and singing Irish shanties. He had vast and obvious talent, and his music was brilliant, or at least to me because as I have mentioned, I love Irish music. Unfortunately the most noticable thing about the talented musician was that attatched to his belt, on a long wooden pole, he had suspended a marrionette, of about the size of a two year-old child, which quite honestly freaked me out. I couldn't tell whether the face was made out of china or wood, but it was creepy with huge, staring eyes and a fixed smile. I suspect that it was wood but I didn't really want to look close enough to tell. It, or rather she, was wearing an old style grey dress, which had been sewn to the wooden hands to give the impression that she was holding her dress up to dance, revealing creepy little wooden legs that had a mind of their own. When I first saw the puppet from a distance, I admired it and the man's act. However when we had to walk past it, I started to notice all of these little weird characteristics, and how they contrasted with the man operating it, who seemed like a nice enough person. Eventually I was forced to come to the conclusion that if you give any normal looking person a creepy marrionette, they instantly also become creepy.
For the record, I don't like bridges, piers or boats. Basically anything suspended over water where there tends to be high winds. I refused to go on the boat like always, and we got halfway down the wooden half of the pier before I claimed that my ear was freezing, which to be fair it was, I just also didn't want to go any further. I used to argue about the bridge but there's really no point anymore, I always lost that argument.
I'm glad I went today. I spent time wih family, I realised a fear of creepy old puppets, and in the end, I still didn't get a lot of revision done.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Let the 2012 blogging challenge commence. 

My new years resolutions? 

• Work harder in school.
• Keep up with the blogs
• Learn all the words to Auld Lang Syne 
• Be more tolerant of those who irritate me.