May today be filled full of festive cheer and many, many presents. Not to mention good food. The sort of food that makes you feel uncomfortably full, yet you still continue eating. 

I hope everyone has a lovely and perfect and safe Christmas, and best wishes for 2011. :)

Festive love,

Charlotte
xxx

This next, rather philosophical, blog post is the result of a rather crappy weekend. I had to cancel everything relatively exciting that I had planned because I have a God-awful fluey/coldy thing that has stripped me of both my voice and my will to live. Although, to be honest, I'm having a pretty crappy month all-round. So I'm going to do some more rambling on here and bore you all to death. 

Human beings should be simple. If we all said what we thought and how we felt, how simple life would be. It would be like reading someone's mind, only minus the fear that they'd be thinking something horrible about you that you'd have to acknowledge. We would all know what was occupying everybody else's mind all the time - a scary yet incredibly intriguing thought.

But we don't. We don't say what we think, we don't share how we feel, and we can't read minds - and we get annoyed when people don't understand us. But why? Why don't we tell people these things?

I don't tell people these things because I'm embarrassed. I've always been one of those people who likes to sort things out by themselves; I've always been fairly self-reliant when it comes to problems I've had throughout my life. It embarrasses me to ask for help - it makes me feel weak, like I can't deal with things alone, or like I'm bothering people by talking about myself too much, no matter how much the recipient of my self-indulgent splurge denies it. But I've recently discovered that I'm not the only person who feels this way and that's quite comforting, in the way that knowing you're not alone always is.

But perhaps the most common reason for not sharing is because of this. Let me ask you a question:

How are you?

Hands up if your automatic response was 'good' or 'fine'.

Now let me ask you this:

Are you all right?

Again, hands up if the word 'fine' was the first thing that came into your head.

It seems to be automatic to reply in the affirmative to this question. As human beings, we don't want to admit to something being wrong (I don't know about other cultures, but I don't think being British particularly helps with this. Stiff upper lip and all that) because we all want to keep our pride and present ourselves as being able to swallow every lemon life hurls at us with a smile glued to our face. But I know that in my case, certainly, I reply to the question "how are you?" with positive answers so regularly that with certain people 'fine' doesn't mean fine anymore. I have... sort of a code, I suppose, of euphemistic ways of saying no, I'm not fine, because I can't admit that something's wrong. It goes 'fine', 'okay' and 'good', with 'fine' meaning 'not fine' and 'good' meaning... well, good, really. But those who take notice of these things will see that I rarely reply 'good' anymore, and, finding that elusive silver lining, that's something of an improvement. I may be answering euphemistically but at least I'm answering honestly.

Sometimes we don't talk about things because we want the person we're talking to to work it out for themselves. If they know everything and they know us, we think they should know what we're feeling and thinking without us having to tell them, because that's the sign of true friendship - being able to act as if that person's mind is a mere extension of your own, and you want to believe that the extension of your mind knows what you're thinking and how you're feeling even if they've never experienced it themselves. We want our loved ones to read between the lines, to stop second guessing and trust their instincts and know automatically what's wrong. It doesn't happen often but it doesn't stop us hoping it will - and the ability is there in so many people, just buried beneath the dust collected by living life.

Sometimes we don't talk about things - but we don't refrain from talking about them because they're not important. We refrain from talking about them because they're the most important things in our lives, so important and so constant and so lifechanging that we have no way of expressing them. These things are the 'dark' things we think nobody else will understand, the things that are hard to talk about, the things we think make us abnormal or weird - but 'weird' has negative connotations and these things get easier to talk about the more you do it, especially when you have to respond to questions instead of explaining on your own. Questions are specific; they show us we're not alone, because somebody else knows what's happening well enough to know what to ask. We are not weird; we are different. We are unique. Yes, maybe we are - or I am, at least - a little crazy. But life goes on, and it always will, regardless of whatever psychological or physical problems we may have, so we may as well make the effort to keep up.

Charlotte
xxx

This is going to be a weird blog post. I can tell you that now. I'm not even sure what I want to write in it yet. I just ... I guess I've been a bit neglectful, as of late. To everything, really. I've been focussing too much on the negatives in my life - the stresses, the worries, the work - that I seem to have overlooked everything else.

The people closest to me, the people I love, have been shoved in the back seat while my unending college work rides with me up front. I've been so absorbed in trying to sort out my education - working hard for university, revising for upcoming exams, rushing to meet coursework deadlines - that I'd forgotten to just take a step back and breathe. 

So, this post is - metaphorically speaking - my shaky step backwards and lungful of air. I can't guarantee you how much sense it will make, but try and stick with it...

If ever you happen to be taking a stroll alongside a river, or in a forest, or even just on a street, pause for a moment. Bend down and scrutinise the ground upon which you're placing your feet; think for a while about all the geological substance which supports us, is always there beneath us, waiting to catch us, whenever we feel the need.

'Aim for the moon', the well known saying goes, 'for even if you fail you will land among the stars'. Now, not only is that not exactly scientifically true, the moon being closer than the stars, but it is also somewhat disrespectful to the Earth. How many people are there in the world whose ambition is to 'reach for the stars', or to 'fly high', and how many people long to be 'over the moon' or 'on cloud nine'? And how many people, I wonder, wish to stay grounded?

We're always talking about the sky, always telling ourselves there is always more to discover, more to learn - and so there is. The sky is, as they say, the limit. But why stop there? And what's beyond the sky? Another planet? More ground? Why do we appreciate different ground but dismiss our own? Is the grass really always greener on the other side?

'Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?' In the wise words of Joni Mitchell, yes. It does. Everybody is so blinded by what they don't have that they don't realise what they do and even when they stop and think about it, they're so worried about everything that they can't see clearly. Sometimes it takes the arrival of somebody into your world to wipe the windscreen of life so that you're not seeing through dirt clouded eyes anymore. And then once they've arrived, it's so easy to become used to their presence, to depend upon them to support you - they become the ground. They hold you up and you use them as a stepping stone to reach where you really want to be in life. Oh, you don't use them, of course you don't, but maybe you start to take them for granted and you forget how lucky you are to have them in the first place.

Don't. Just don't. Stop right now and think of everyone you're lucky to know and everything you're lucky to have. Give yourself five reasons you're happy to be who you are, and if you're not happy being who you are, who are you and who do you want to be? Do you truly know the people around you? Do you know what you want from life? Do you truly know yourself? Think about it. Dig out your windscreen wash and scrape away the dirt stopping you from seeing your world your way. It's your world, so be metaphorically (and literally) environmentally friendly. Walk a path and give yourself directions. It doesn't matter if you get lost, because every turn will lead you to where you're destined to be.

The ground we walk on will always support us. The people who love us will always catch us. Pebbles on a beach all look the same, their rough edges worn away by the sea; don't let the world wear away your rough edges. Keep them, because they're what make you unique.

Charlotte
xxx

Depressing as the title of this post may sound, relax: I'm not here today to moan on about college or life in general (although I easily could). I simply want to muse over the fact that where I am as a seventeen year old student right now is exhilarating, stressful and, well... slightly terrifying, to be honest.

Yesterday was the college deadline for UCAS - to anybody unfamiliar with this name, it refers to the Universities and Colleges Admissions Service, through which we (predictably) apply to university - and as of about ten o'clock last night, personal statements and uni choices are no longer of my immediate concern. I have officially applied to university!

So I'd like to take a moment to say this:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Where did the time go? When did I get so old? Ever since I was a child I've been thinking of uni as something that was a long way off (as it was, then) and suddenly, before I know it, I've chosen my five and sent off the form to some randomers who have nothing more than forty-seven lines of personal statement and a few grades to decide the course of my future. It's incredible and ridiculous and I still feel about twelve... I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing and part of me wants to curl up in a ball and just drop out of life completely.

The other half, though, can't wait. That half of me wants to get out there and kick some ass - finally show myself what I can do, finally find my place in the world. I'm lucky enough to know for sure that History is what I want to spend my life doing, but what does one do with that? It's not exactly career specific. The last thing I want to turn into is a corduroy-wearing, middle-aged, stuffy university lecturer / equally boring researcher.

Seriously though. If compulsory education is the beginning of our lives, we reached the end of the beginning nearly two years ago. But that's all it is; the beginning, the foundations upon which we build our worlds and balance our homes. Now we've constructed our worlds, we get to live in them, like on the Sims when you build an epic house and then you get to the fun bit where you get to control their lives. (I apologise to all those Sims on whom I've vented my bad moods over the years - it really isn't fair to kill you just because I'm a bit pissed off. Really helps though.) So let's get out there, kick some butt and show everyone that every negative thing they ever said about us was wrong.

(Except the bit about being lazy. That was true. Oh, and the bit about eating too much chocolate. And- well, we don't need to go there. The point still stands.)

And with that, I leave you in the capable hands of David Tennant in his first ever episode as the Doctor: "From the day we arrive on the planet and, blinking, step into the sun, there is more to see than can ever be seen, more to do than - no, hold on... sorry, that's the 'Lion King'."

Charlotte
xxx

 Well, I have finally done it.

I have finally decided what I want to do at university next year. Or, I've newly decided, anyway, as for the past year I've been convinced that I was going to do psychology.

I started college and I started psychology for the first time and I really did fall in love with the subject. I had, and still have, the most brilliant, amazing teacher, and I genuinely used to look forward to going to the lessons. But this year something has changed. I don't know what it is, or when exactly it happened, but the spark's gone. I have the same teacher, most of the same classmates, the lesson structure is the same ... yet something's different. 

Maybe the novelty's just worn off now. Or maybe the harder A2 work isn't as appealing. I don't know what it is, but what I do know is that about a week ago, I had this niggling little feeling in the back of my head saying, "I wonder what History would be like at uni?" Now, that was a thought that hadn't even entered my mind for over a year. 

History. The study of the past. People's mistakes, people's triumphs, people's trauma. 

I've always loved History. I fell in love with History way back in primary school, when we did things like the Tudors, and the Egyptians, and the Second World War. For a decade, I always thought the past would be my future. Then, I went to college. And my History teacher was awful. He was a lovely, hilarious guy, but a Rubbish teacher. With a capital R. So the little work that we actually used to do in lessons became dull. I let my love of the subject slip through my fingers. Then I started doing psychology, and as far as I was concerned, going to History became a drag.

But this year I actually have decent History teachers. Robin, with whom I'm studying Russia for my coursework, and Jurgen, with whom I'm studying Germany for the summer exam. They're brilliant teachers, and I end up making pages and pages of notes in the lessons. 

I was helping my boyfriend yesterday lunchtime with one of his own History essays on Socialism in Britain, and afterwards my best friend looked at me and said, "You've got that enthusiasm back, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes."

I guess I have. I guess all it took was a niggling thought for me to realise: Hang on, am I making the right decision?

So I'm now looking at History courses. And I am loving looking at History courses. Because each one I read I get excited at the prospect of studying them. 

The only thing I have to decide now is which university to go to. But that's a whole other kettle of fish. The point is, at this moment in time, I'm happy. I'm confident I'm making the right decision, I'm loving the renewed excitement I have for the subject, and I'm actually looking forward to going to university. 

So, until we speak again, Dudes. 

Hugs,
Charlotte
xxxxxxxx

 
I found this on a friend's Facebook, so thought I would post it on here. Because I'm bored and still fighting the losing battle against writer's block. 

Anyway, here goes...

 

 

***

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"


Pick your Artist:
KT TUNSTALL

Are you a male or female:
MOTHGIRL

Describe yourself:
HOPELESS

How do you feel right now:
UNDER THE WEATHER

Describe where you currently live:
OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
FAIRYTALE OF NEW YORK

Your favourite form of transportation:
PAPER AEROPLANE

You and your best friends are:
MINIATURE DISASTERS

Favourite time of day:
THROUGH THE DARK

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
SUDDENLY I SEE

What is life to you:
IF ONLY

Your relationship:
UNIVERSE & U

Your fear:
GIRL AND THE GHOST

What is the best advice you have to give:
HOLD ON

Thought for the Day:
HEAL OVER

How you would like to die:
DARKNESS ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH

Your soul's present condition:
BEAUTY OF UNCERTAINTY

 
So, I traipsed all the way to college yesterday to get my AS Level results! Well, when I say traipsed, I mean my father gave me a lift, but whatever.

God, it was terrifying! I was so scared that I wouldn't get what I want, or that I thought I had done better than I actually did, but it was nowhere near that bad. In fact, it was bloody brilliant!

My results are as followed:

English - A
Media Studies - A
Psychology - A
History - B

I was so happy I cried. It was better than I thought it would be! I got full marks in my English coursework too, which amazed me. Psychology is the result I'm most pleased with, because it's my favourite subject and what I want to spend the rest of my life doing, so to get an A was fantastic. I saw my psych teacher, who's sooo lovely, and she gave me a massive hug and told me that she knew I'd get an A. 

And I did better than my boyfriend, who get one A and three Bs! I know I shouldn't be competitive or happy about that, but I so am. 

All I have to do now is make sure that I keep my grades up for next year, because it's the full A Level that really counts. I must make sure I don't get cocky and complacent, is what everyone keeps telling me! 

We shall see, we shall see... Bit scary that it's only in one year's time!

Anyway, in other news, I still have bloody writer's block. I've got two pages of the chapter, so I'm sloooowly getting there, but it's not very good. At all. I keep opening the document and then just staring at the page, hoping inspiration will strike me, but it doesn't so I give up. It sucks. But I shall keep trying and attempt to upload something soon for you all! Just be prepared for it to be rubbish. Also, I have just started another video! It's very, very different to my others, but you'll have to wait and see! 

Love,

Charlotte
xxx

I've been working on it and working on it, and I can't get this chapter right. I know how I want it to go in my head, but the words don't look right on paper, and it's got nothing to do with the fact that it is Microsoft Word 'paper'. 

It's supposed to be a beautiful, moving chapter; but instead it's taunting me, frustrating me, winding me up. Because I can clearly see it, I just can't convey it. And that pisses me off more than anything. 

I want it to be good, I want it to make me smile (or cry). I want it to give me that feeling of accomplishment, that resounding 'yes' muttered under my breath when I finish it. I want to be able to read back on the four or five pages and not feel irritated, or unhappy, or uncertain. I want to be able to upload it with a confident air, a happy little author's note at the bottom.

In the ten days that I've been working on it, I must have written more than ten pages of material. Right now? Right now I have one page and three lines. And I'm seriously considering just highlighting the lot and pressing delete. 

Why can't the words just flow effortlessly from my fingertips; spilling beautiful paragraphs, witty one-liners and poignant moments onto the page? Because nothing is ever that easy, that's why. 

Yet I shall struggle on, if only for my own peace of mind. I shall stick on a slightly melancholic CD to get me in the mood for writing sad stuff, I shall read back on the last couple of chapters, and I shall delete what I have already written for this one. There's no point in keeping it if I'm not happy with it.

Until we speak again, dudes. 

Charlotte
xxx

 
So much to say, so little time! 

Tomorrow is my birthday. Yes, I know. It's exciting. I'm going to be seventeen, something which I can't quite believe! Although it feels like waaaay more than a year since I was sixteen. So much has happened since then. 

College is probably the most noticeable change in my life. The transition from secondary school to this massive college was initially terrifying, but it's the best thing that ever happened to me. I love my lessons. Especially psychology. I'd never done psychology before A-level, so I had no idea what it was going to be like. But I love it so much. It's going to be my future career path. Then there was meeting my boyfriend shortly before Christmas, and the fact that I have a really great group of friends at college, including my best friend who I've been really close to since year nine. 

One year on, my secondary school years feel like a time long since gone! I miss them, especially my friends who I can now only see occasionally, but we're still close and I suppose it could be worse! 

Now I'm going to be seventeen! Old enough to drive... Scary thought! 

And the year ahead is going to be just as massive, I can tell. Final year at college ... choosing a university ... A-levels ... turning eighteen and being officially an adult ... going to university...!

It will be huge, but in a strange way I'm looking forward to it. 

Right, I'm gonna go now. I have a million things to do today. 

S'laters, dudes. :)

xxx

Tomorrow is officially my last day at college until September! Yay! :D

I'm supposed to be going to a sleepover tomorrow night with a few friends, including my best friend, but I'm not entirely sure whether I want to go. It's not that I don't love them all, because everyone going is amazing, just that I don't know if I can be bothered.

I have to leave at the horrendously early time of 6:20am tomorrow to get to college, so by 7:00pm I'm going to be exhausted! (Which is when the sleepover starts). It's being organised by one of my friends, Molly, because it's in her parents' house that they rent out, except there's no one in it at the moment, obviously ;)

Plus, things have been a bit tense between me and Molly lately. I'm not really sure why... I think it's because my best friend is - or was - her best friend. I don't know.

 

So Molly has a slight grudge against me. She doesn't let it show really obviously, but there are subtle hints every so often. It's annoying. Like tomorrow, for instance. She's decided that we're all going out for a Chinese beforehand, and I HATE Chinese food. I can't stand it. And Molly knows that, but she's still organised it to go there. I did tell her, and she had a go at me for being 'fussy'.

But, the aforementioned best friend, Becky, has begged me to come anyway, so I suppose I shall go.

*sigh* I'm tired. And peckish. I may go and get a jam sandwich and munch it whilst watching some cheesy chick flick. Jam sandwiches are comfort food.

S'laters, dudes
xxx