Musings of the siany-sian.

'Yo no se mañana...'

2010-08-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

Third week down, and now only one to go. The thought of having to be back in my M&S uniform, placating the various whims of the snobs of Chichester in just over a week is actually enough to make me feel a wee bit sick. But obviously instead of dwelling on my impending return to normality (although even the word 'normality' has a bit of a funny ring to it now...) I am trying to focus all my energy on enjoying the time I have left in the wonderful, the amazing, the downright breath-taking awesome-ness of Costa Rica. Pura vida.

This week we've been working in a new centre - La Casa de Ana Frank- and it's been really lovely so far. Rach and I are working in different areas of the building so we're having to be a little more independent of each other. I'm with the oldest group of kids who range from 8 - 11 years old whereas Rach is with the little'uns again. I can't decide which age group is more of a challenge. The little'uns tend to be very loving from the offset and in need of lots of cuddles and attention, which is lovely but requires a massive amount of sustained energy. Meanwhile I had a very hard time convincing the kids (the girls especially) to warm to me. One of the girls spent the whole of the first day running up to me with her eyelashes fluttering and her hands clasped behind her back in a convincing display of sweetness. She'd then proceed to say something along the lines of 'I really don't like you' or 'I bet you can't understand a word I'm saying, ugly' and then run away giggling. But believe it now we're now BFFs. And now that I've worked at it and convinced that I'm not an idiot foreigner and I can in fact talk to them and play with them, they've let me be part of the group. I play silly games with the girls and they teach me dances and do my hair and the boys attempt to teach me how to play American football and table football both of which I am completely inept at! One of the boys in particular - Jhon (and trust me, they still haven't stopped taking the piss that my name sounds like his 'usted tiene un nombre de un chico! jejejeee!') is a true gent. He's 10 years old and always takes me aside and tries to help me understand when I lose track of the what's being said or can't put myself across. A little hero!

On Wednesday evening we went to the cinema to see El Vengador - Law Abiding Citizen - which was genuinely one of the best movies I've seen in a long while. It was in English but with Spanish subtitles so we were subconsciously watching the subtitles and trying to absorb some of the language. The ticket was 1000 colones and the popcorn and drink was about 2500 colones so altogether it cost less than a fiver.

On Thursday I went to Castros - the most popular dance club in the city. Rachel was knackered and stayed home but I've been desperate to go the entire trip so I went with our American friend Kat, a German girl called Judith and a girl from Taiwan called Tesha - we were a very mixed bag of nationalities and it made for some very interesting conversations when people asked 'so, where are you girls from?'. The club itself was beautiful. You get a table and the drinks are served to you via your own waiter all night long. The tables are all clustered around the dance floor so for about an hour I just sat and watched the couples dancing. They were breath-breathtakingly good and would all be able to teach a thing or two to the professionals on Strictly. After a beer (or two or three...) I got up the courage to give it a go and danced the salsa, merengue and bachata. Seriously - I need to find a Latino club somewhere in Hampshire. I've never had so much fun dancing. It was amazing.

This weekend we traveled to Monteverde with a few girls from the language school - another English girl called Sara, an Italian called Sara and a German girl called Franci. We got up super early Friday morning (well, Rachel managed to get up super early. I on the other hand managed to roll out of bed 5 minutes before the taxi was meant to be picking us up at 5am. Smooth) and caught a taxi to the bus stop where we started the 5 hour bus ride to Monteverde. When we arrived it was raining harder than I think I've ever seen it rain before. Ever. The phrase 'drowned rats' doesn't even begin to describe what we looked up when we stumbled into the reception of the hotel we were staying at. The hotel was basic but the people were so friendly and helped us book up an itinerary for the weekend. We didn't waste any time and straight away went to get changed ready for a horseback ride that we'd booked. It was so much fun. We weren't asked if we had any riding experience (thank god all of us had some otherwise I think there might've been a few problems), we weren't given any safety equipment or helmets, we weren't shown or told what to do, we were simply thrown onto the horses and off we went. It was still raining but it didn't mar the experience at all. The guides were with us all the time but pretty much let us get on with it. The trail led us through woodland, through streams, up and down hills and across fields. A lot of the time we were cantering or galloping (this is where a bit of experience came in handy otherwise I would have had a panic attack) and the views from every angle were just gorgeous. I know it was Rachel's highlight of the entire trip so far and it wasn't far off being mine too. All helped, of course, by the fact that the landowner gave us a taste of their bananas and, get this, a couple of shots of their hand made liquor. Yum.

On Saturday we got up and went on a walking tour of Santa Elena nature reserve. Our guide was extremely nice and obviously knew his stuff. Unfortunately there weren't any mammals or big animals to be seen - we were up in the mountains and at this time of year bigger animals migrate downwards where they're able to find fruit still growing on the trees. The guide made up for it though with his abundance of knowledge about the beautiful plants and insects and birds that we were able to see. Straight after the tour we went back to the hotel to get ready for the next activity. The other girls had decided to go on a bird-watching tour. Rachel and I though sounded a little boring and preferred the sound of canyoning. Throwing ourselves into pools of freezing cold water in the pouring rain and abseiling down waterfalls in a country where 'health and safety' goes no further than signing a waver? Yeah. Why not. To be honest I would struggle to describe the event itself as most of what I can remember is having water in my eyes, water up my nose, water in ears, water in my mouth, feeling suddenly acutely aware of the power of gravity and hearing the sounds of Rachel's constant screaming reverberating off of valley. We are both covered in bruises, there's still river water swilling around my ears and I think my heart rate is yet to return to normal. It was so so so so so much fun and I am so proud that neither of us wimped out. That evening we all cooked a massive pot of past and sat down to play some epic rounds of uno.

On Sunday morning Rachel, English Sara and I went on the canopy tour which consists of zip lining through the tree tops. I feel like I'm running out of superlatives for all the things we've been doing but seriously - the part of the canopy tour called the Superman, where you are strapped on the zip wire and launched out across the canopy like a bird was truly awe-inspiring. Again, there wasn't much in the way of explanation or guidance, just a series of guides ready to unclip you from one zip, clip you onto the next and shove you into midair saying 'Ready? Go!!!'. At one point we approached a platform where there wasn't another zip line to take. I assumed we'd be taking a step ladder down to the forest floor but instead I found myself being strapped onto a vertical rope that was dangling down through the canopy. A voice said 'Bend your knees. Go!' and all of sudden I was falling through midair. I couldn't even scream it happened so fast. When my feet where safely on the ground all I could do was exclaim 'HOLY SHIT' at the top of my voice and then turn around to see about 20 American and German tourists staring at me with their mouths agape. 'Sorry. Excuse my French. Wait, sorry, if you're french that won't make sense. Sorry. Sorry for the swearing. I don't even know if half of you speak English. Sorry.' Luckily my rambling apology was interrupted by Rachel being thrown into midair and screaming louder than a jet plane. Ta Rach.

After the Canopy we got the bus back to San Jose. The journey was pretty uneventful until a lorry decided to pull out in front of us causing our bus to swerve into the lane of oncoming traffic. Luckily the lane was clear. The bus driver pulled up alongside the lorry, opened the bus door and bellowed to the driver (keeping in mind that this is a rough translation. Believe it or not, I don't have that great a knowledge of Spanish expletives) 'WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKS YOUR MOTHER EH? YOU OR YOUR BROTHER? YOU OR YOUR BROTHER? YOU MOTHER FUCKING SON A BITCH.' What a charmer.

It was a brilliant weekend and it was lovely to be in a group too. And now back to another week working in San Jose.

xxx

La segunda semana

2010-08-16T13:29:00.000-07:00

We've reached the halfway point! Usually I hate this point in a trip - from here on it normally feels like time moves faster and faster and the inevitability of returning home becomes more and more inescapable. But this time I think it will be different - I've never been away for so long before! 'Only' two weeks left. But two weeks is a long time, especially judging by the last two weeks which have felt much longer (in a good way!)

This last week has been extremely full and fun and fabulous.

On Monday evening we ventured out for our first night out in San Jose. We met our Spanish friends - Ana and Ana (Las Anas!) at the mall and waited for Randall and Kat to meet us. We waited. And waited a bit more. And finally came to the conclusion that we'd been stood up. So we thought, what the hell, let's make our own way there. After asking several passers by and eventually hopping on a bus after being told that it´s an area well known for armed robberies (eek) we made it to La Cuartel. It's the regular hangout on a Monday night because there´s live music. Admission is free for girls but boys have to pay - the way it should be methinks!! When we first arrived it was pretty quiet so we found a table and bought some drinks and made a desperate attempt to get a conversation going with the lovely Anas. Harder than usual. Having to shout above the blaring music, in Spanish, and understanding the response - not easy. Eventually Randall and Kat turned up along with a few more of their friends and a couple of American guys who we'd met at the school earlier that day. From then onwards the evening got better and better. The band were absolutely fantastic - they played American music as well as Latin American music and everyone danced in a sweaty mass in front of the stage, clutching beers and singing along. And, get this, we danced the salsa and the merengue! In a nightclub! Proper dancing!! Estupenda!

On Wednesday we went to the Salon de patines - basically a roller disco. There was a glitterball and flashing lights but instead of 70s disco tunes they played R+B! I think roller skating is actually one of the hardest things I've ever done. Ever! We thought it might be pretty similar to ice skating but somehow being on wheels instead of a blade is about a bajillion times harder. Rach and I were clinging onto each other most of the way round. The man would blow a whistle that meant everyone had to change direction around the rink but we were so slow at changing that by the time we'd maneuvered ourselves round the whistle had blown again and we were skating against the flow! Screaming and laughter galore! I fell over once. Rachel managed to stay vertical. 1-0 to her.

But, of everything we´ve experience so far, this weekend has been the highlight of the trip by a mile. We went to Tortuguero - a massive nature reserve on the Carribean Coast. We got picked up by a coach at 6am on Friday morning and arrived at Tortuguero at about 2pm. Most of the journey consisted of a motor-boat ride along the river. It was literally breathtaking. Either side of the river was flanked by rainforest so, with out eyes peeled, we managed to see sloths, monkeys, crocodiles, lizards and countless beautiful exotic birds. We arrived at our hotel expecting it to be pretty basic having only paid 200 dollars for a completely all-inclusive three night stay. It was luxurious. Two swimming pools, two bars serving massive cocktails overlooking the river, double beds and a hot shower (and that really is a luxury in Costa Rica!). It was a-maze-ing.

That night we were taken by a guide down to the beach. It was about 9pm and looking up at the sky we could see the milky way and Venus just casually shining down on us. The sky was so clear and beautiful I almost couldn't believe it was real. I spent so long watching shooting stars that my neck began to ache. Then, after about an hour of waiting we saw what we'd come for. A green turtle had dragged herself up the beach and had built a nest. She was laying her eggs. She was about three feet long and absolutely beautiful. We were allowed to stand literally centimetres away from her because once they're giving birth they're in a trance-like state and nothing can bother them. We watched as she layed dozens of eggs, three at a time, into the hole and then proceeded to throw sand over her back to cover up the hole and disguise the nest. It was a proper David Attenborough moment!

On Saturday we were woken up at 4:45am (christ, I don´t think I´ve ever seen that time of morning before) by our guide Johnny knocking on our doors and by the howler monkeys shrieking at each other in the trees around the hotel. We had to get up so (so so so so) early in order to be out on the river at optimum nature-spotting time. We spent a couple of hours on the river slowly motoring along with Eagle-eyes Miguel, the driver, pointing out wildlife and Johnny explaining what everything was. I wish I had a snazzy camera because it was impossible to get any decent pictures with my crappy little thing. Then again, some of the people with snazzy cameras spent more time trying to find the best angle and adjusting their settings and less time actually looking at what was right in front of them!!! We saw spider monkeys and howler monkeys and a few sloths (in Spanish they´re called Perezosos - literally ´the lazies´). Afterwards we did a canopy tour - whizzing along ziplines through the jungle and then we went on a tour of the forest on foot. It was Spider Central. And massive spiders at that. And after earning our credentials as professional explorers we rewarded ourselves with about 4 straight hours of sunbathing and lazing and swimming at the hotel. Bliss.

In the evening we caught a ´taxi´ over to Tortuguero (it was a boat taxi, which Rach couldn´t quite get her head round ´How is a car going to get across the river??´). We went to a bar - La Taverna - where the guys were singing karaoke. Then we went to a little club and danced some merengue. We left pretty sharpish as soon as a massive bar fight broke out and then one of our guides starting behaving like a dick. We were in bed by midnight. Hardcore.

Sunday morning we got up to begin the journey back home to San Jose. We were knackered - a totally busy weekend had knocked us out. There wasn´t an unoccupied minute of the day!

Next week we´ll be changing projects to a similar centre but with older children this time so hopefully we´ll be able to plan activities and teach them a bit of English. I think we´ll miss the children from La Guarderia del nino, Santiago en particular - mi amor - but we´ve heard good things about the new place - La casa de Ana Frank.

Hasta Luego.

P.s. Highlight of the weekend? Rachel ate a termite. Ha.

XXXX

Costa Rica - la pura vida!

2010-08-09T12:21:00.000-07:00

We have officially been in Costa Rica for a week and a day.

In some ways it has flown by. We've been bombarded (in a very good way) by the sights, sounds, smells and sensations of a totally new culture. We've stood and stared with our mouths wide open. In some ways though I feel as if I've been here forever and could stay forever. The tico lifestyle is more than a little appealing!

There is too much to tell so I will just tell you some of the highlights so far!

Our family are called the Richmond-Oconitrillos. Ivannia and Johnny are the parents and then there's Valerie and Jocelyn, they're daughters, and Wendy and Kendall, two cousins. They have so much energy and there's always something to smile at or laugh about in the house. Kendall especially has been a bit of a savior - chatting away to us about cartoons and movies and monster truck racing. He's 11 so when we don't conjugate our verbs correctly he's not particularly bothered. We are fed breakfast and dinner. Ivannia is a firm believer in variation so we eat anything from Mexican style tacos to spag-bol. I think this is actually quite unusual - the typical tico diet consists mainly of rice. And beans. And more rice.

We get up at half 6 in the morning to catch the bus at half 7 into San Jose. The buses cost 200 colones as a generic charge, regardless of how far you're going. 200 colones is about 30 pence. Cheap as chips. We get off at the last stop at San Jose and then walk, or catch another bus, to our placement. To be honest, by the time the buses have negotiated their way around the millions of taxi drivers with their hands glued to their horns and the crazy little men on scooters, it's quicker to walk! The roads are treacherous. There aren't really any signs and the lanes are often ignored. You cross the road on a whim and a prayer!

We are volunteering at La Guarderia del Nino. It's a daycare centre for children from poor families. It's subsidised by the government so that the parents can try to make some money for themselves without having to worry about the safety of their children. We have been placed with the youngest age group. There about about 10 children there per day. Santiago and Valentina are the youngest - both about 18 months old. And the oldest are about 2 and a half. They are all adorable. The language barrier is non existent seeing as they're only just learning to talk themselves! 'Ah, que linda mi nina pequenita!' basically translates as 'you are the cutest!'. We pretty much repeat that over and over!

So far we haven't ventured too far outside of San Jose. The city is buzzing and we fancied getting to know the city first before venturing further afield. There is constant noise - horns blaring and music playing through boarded up windows and street vendors selling things and, in Rachels case particularly, constant cries of 'eh! guapa! beautiful, blondie! I love you!'

We went to Poas on Sunday - one of the volcanoes in Costa Rica. The drive up there was breath-taking. When we arrived the crater itself was just swamped in cloud. But, undeterred, Rachel and I, accompanied by a girl from Holland, decided to leg it up to the second crater. The air was thin and it was a steep ol' climb and suddenly the level of my unfitness was alarmingly obvious. But we made it and, as if rewarding us for the effort, the clouds suddenly parted to reveal the sparkling bright blue lake of acidic water that was the second crater. It was spectacular! On the way back to San Jose we were treated to a tour of a coffee plantation and were told time and again that 'Costa Rica taught the world to drink coffee'. They are extremely proud of their country - of what it has achieved in terms of peace, human rights but perhaps most of all their coffee!

We have been taking daily classes in latin dance too so watch out - I'll be cha-cha-cha-ing with the best of them before the month is over!

Tonight we're going out with some friends we've made along the way so far. We're going to a bar and then a dancing place which doesn't quite qualify as a club.

There is just too much to tell and my brain is now feeling a little bit explode-y with wanting to describe everything so I think I'll stop there! Explode-y brain is not a good look!

Hasta luego!!

x

This isn't just a freakshow...

2010-07-13T09:37:00.000-07:00

Hello.

First of all here are three extraordinarily important updates for you:
1) My hair is no longer blonde
2) I have joined the Apple Army by way of an iphone
3) Dancing is the bees knees (but you knew that already)

And now moving swiftly on to the subject of this blog; customers. Despicable, rude, demanding, impatient, condescending and downright fricking annoying customers.

Incident #1
Customer: Hello. I want to bring these earrings back. They hurt my ears.. and look! They've discoloured! (I proceed to inspect the earrings and notice a very very small amount of tarnishing on the loop)
Me: (politely) Do you have a receipt madam?
Customer: (with a guffaw that said 'stupid idiot girl') No!
Me: Ah, okay. Can I ask how much you paid for them?
Customer: (rolling her eyes impatiently) They were five pounds
Me: And how long ago did you buy them?
Customer: with a growl 2 months ago. Is that relevant??
Me: Well, yes. it determines whether the tarnishing is a result of wear or if they were bought in that condition.
Customer: Right. Well I want a refund.
Me: Okay Madam, I'm afraid that's not a lot I can do for you today as it happens. I can see a very minor amount of tarnishing on the metal there but that isn't a manufacturing fault and is in fact just a trait of all cheaper metals.
Customer: But they hurt my ears! And that is a safety complaint!(hackles rising)
Me: Again, the fact that you have suffered discomfort can't be classed as a manufacturing fault or indeed a safety complaint - it is a sign that you are obviously more sensitive to cheaper metals and perhaps should opt for silver or gold plated earrings.
Customer: Are you saying you won't take these back?!?
Me: I'm afraid so yes. But I'd be happy to show you our silver-pla-(interrupted mid flow)
Customer: I KNOW MY RIGHTS AND I INTEND TO HAVE THEM!!! I ABSOLUTELY REFUTE YOUR SUGGESTION THAT I NEED TO SPEND MORE MONEY ON JEWELLERY AND I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER!!

Now, gentle reader, you would be forgiven for thinking that my use of capital letters is perhaps a tad melodramatic - a case of artistic license taken too far. I wish that were so. The words were spat at my face with actual real live venom. She ranted. She raved. She went bright red and her eyes were popping out of her sockets. And all for for the sake of a pair of cheap (and extremely ugly) earrings. Freak.

Incident #2
Customer: (approaching me on the shop floor) I want these knickers but I don't want to have to buy both pairs.
Me: (well good morning to you too!) Oh I'm sorry madam but we do only sell that particular knicker in a two pack.
Customer: Well I don't WANT both pairs!
Me: Could we perhaps find you something similar that we sell singly?
Customer: No! I want these EXACT knickers (brandishing them wildly in my face) but I don't want both!
Me: Ah, well then it doesn't seem like there's mu-(interrupted again - they make a habit of that
Customer: It's a CON!!! It's a con! You hear this Harry (waving the knickers hysterically above her head and shrieking at her husband across the shop floor) They're conning us! Conmen! They expect me to buy BOTH PAAAAIRS!!!
Me: Madam, if I could show you these...
Customer: No no no, they're not the same at all!!! They're an off white. I need white.
Me: Okay, how about these...
Customer: No! Entirely different! They have a bow on the front!
Me: How about-
Customer: UUURGH! USELESS GIRL.

And with that she stormed off towards her husband, shouting to him about my blatant inability to help with the 'simplest' enquiry and how the business are manipulating and conning the general public and how she doesn't nkow what's happening to the world these days. Freak.

And last but not least...
Incident #3
Customer: (Mono tonal and moody. Fat and aggressive. pleasant individual she was not) I need to pay my store card bill.
Me: Okay madam, how are you wishing to pay?
Customer: A cheque.
Me: I'm afraid we can't accept payments by cheque in store. You'll have to post it.
Customer: But then it'll be overdue!
Me: I can happily take a cash or debit card payment through the till...
Customer: No. I only want to pay by cheque.
Me: Well, as I said, I'm afraid I can't accept a cheque.
Customer: So what I am supposed to do? (staring daggers at me(
Me: I'd recommend you ring the-(and again with the interrupting)
Customer: I am trying to give you money and you won't accept it!!! I am going to miss my payment date!!! Take my money!
Me: I cannot accept a cheque madam. If you want to take this up with the manager I can call him for you.
Customer: No!! I just want you to take my money as you are supposed to do! This is absolutely bloody ridiculous! I'M GOING TO BE CHARGED INTEREST! (with a dramatic fist-bang on the till-point for good measure)
Me: Unfortunately madam it is your responsibility to keep up to date with payments and to read the terms and conditions set out for you, detailing the appropriate payment methods.
Customer: FOR FUCKS SAAAAAAKE.

She stormed off down the aisle in a truly godzilla-esque manner. She was practically frothing at the mouth. To be frank she was a massive lard-ass chav. Freak.

Golly

2010-05-10T14:49:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been mentally hectic. And hectically mental too.

I haven't written a blog in aaaages. This is partly due to the mental hecticness but also due to my reluctance to draw a line under my post about Nana. The amount of thought I give to the trivial and random crap that occurs in day-to-day life doesn't even come slightly close, not even marginally near to the amount of time she spends occupying my mind. I want her to know that. So as I compromise I've given her a picture instead. Lovely.

And now, as a summary of the melee of stuff what's been happening, here is a list of things:

One. Directing a play is massively rewarding and fun and challenging and exhausting and exhilarating and I have been lavishing the exerience with so many superlatives that even my store of hyperbole is running low , heaven forbid. The cast and crew - what a wonderful group of people. There was not a single weak link in our chain of awesome-ness and kick-ass-ability. I think we did a bladdy good job. We pulled heaven down and rose up a whore fo' sho'.

Two. Being courteous apparently gets you nowhere in this day and age. Whilst attempting to parallel park in Southsea a few weeks ago I was suddenly overcome by the steep camber and my driving-related ineptness. I scratched the car in front. It was a paint scratch - noticeable but hardly anything to write home about. I thought I'd be a good Samaritan and leave a note for the owner. To be honest I was expecting the owner to acknowledge the note and appreciate the gesture, then shrug it off as 'one of those things' (as I'm sure I would have done if faced with such inconsequential damage). However, to cut a long story shot: a miserable old fart, the complications of leasing and several ridiculous phone calls later and I find myself with a bill for two hundred pounds. Brilliant.

Three. The general public can be despicable. Are my customers growing more ignorant, snobby, rude and patronising by the second? Or am I just becoming less tolerant? Who knows. And the worst thing about is that these people make up such a small minority of the people I serve but sadly it's these people that stick in my mind. Focusing on the positive; the smiley, polite, friendly people is easy. Right up until you're hit full in the face with a corker like "Quite frankly I'm bewildered. I came here expecting to find someone bright enough to help me with my simple inquiry. You've proven me wrong." And don't even get me started on the 'poo in the fitting room' fiasco. That's right. An actual human poo. Left by a smug little prepubescent shitbag who did it for a laugh. Hilarious.

Four. Dancing makes everything better. If you feel a bit crappy in the morining then here's a simple cure: nip downstairs, have a nice cuppa and some sugary cereal and then have a body-popping sesh in your kitchen with Usher and Will-I-am as your right hand men. Works for me anyhows.

x

My beautiful Nana

2010-02-15T06:29:00.000-08:00

Unforgettable
That's what you are,
Unforgettable
Tho' near or far.

Like a song of love that clings to me,
How the thought of you does things to me.
Never before
Has someone been more...

Unforgettable
In every way,
And forever more
That's how you'll stay.

That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am
Unforgettable, too.

I don't want to write about how much I miss her and love her because I wouldn't even know where to start. I've said it countless times before and I'll say it again - she was the most beautiful and wonderful Nana a person could wish for. Hands down.

Motor Neurone Disease is an effing horrible evil disease. I urge everyone to have a look at the MNDA website to find out a bit about it. And, if ever you feel the need to donate to a charity, I would suggest the MNDA. They do so much for sufferers and their families - without their support we would have been lost at sea.

Four bars, no credit

2010-01-12T03:54:00.000-08:00

'Fours bars, no credit' is a phrase we have decided to apply to my dearest little brother. It was created when we were sat in Cafe Nero in Chichester; I needed to make a phone call but I had no signal. Mum had no signal. Gary had no signal. Callum whipped out his phone and proudly proclaimed... 'I've got four bars mate!... oh...but no credit.' This is his life. Every opportunity is placed at his feet but he has no drive or ambition to actually give a shit. Unless of course it relates to the X-box in which case his 'drive' and ambition' are through the roof.

Now, this morning, I had an Epiphany of sorts and came to realise that this phrase applies to me too but in an entirely different way.

I downloaded the soundtrack of Wicked because I realised that I didn't actually own my own copy! Apart from the one that plays on continuous loop in my brain of course. I sat listening to the songs for about an hour. Pure Bliss. There isn't much else that makes me feel as happy as Wicked. It reminds of being in year 9 at school and bombing around the classroom with Gisu - giving our best performance of every song. Gisu was Elphie and I was Glinda and the rest of the class would scream at us to shut up until their voices were hoarse but we believed that we were fabulous. When we went to see the show in London, our friends came along to humour us. They sat and 'enjoyed' it. Gisu and I on the other hand lived every minute of it. Laughter, tears, shouts of glee, hands clutched to chest, brows furrowed and limbs tensed. Hell, you could have popped us in the front row of the chorus and we wouldn't have looked out of place. What can I say, I love it I love it I love it. It is inexpressible.

Leaping around the kitchen in my pyjamas this morning, I started to believe (as I always do when listening to Wicked) that some day I could very well be on stage playing Glinda. I have the ambition, the passion, the love, the drive. What else could I possibly need??

Ah yes... The talent.

Four bars. And no credit.

Sigh.

Don't let the bedbugs bite.

2009-11-27T16:13:00.001-08:00

So tired, so very very tired. Life has become a flurry of running around in my undies, helping elderly ladies to find garters and girdles and god knows what else, feeling unendingly frustrated with the genreal public and wearing the same clothes for one too many days on the trot. Without a good explanation all of this information would cause me to come across as a rather unseemly lass. But fear not, these woes spring from the following: working at M&S (garters, girdles and frustration; explained), taking part in What The Butler Saw (undies; explained) and living between homes (smelly Sian; explained). As much as I love love love spending so much time with the handsome Mr F (who is currently, and slightly unhandsomely, adorned with a 70's pornstar tashe HA) I do miss my own bed. Although, having said that, midnight cuddles are pretty much an irreplaceable pleasure.

So tonight, I am happy to say, my head will sleep soundly on it's own pillow. And tomorrow morning I will wake up on the day of the start of my chuffing birthday morning. What joy.

Tonsi-shite-is (tonsillitis is shite)

2009-10-18T09:58:00.000-07:00

It's just a ruddy good thing that I have this bearded angel who listens to me whine and moan and cuddles me and comforts me and generally makes me feel happy despite the fact that I feel as if my body is declaring a mutiny against my brain. Why body, why? Stupid effing tonsils. For those of you who don't know, I officially have the largest tonsils in all of the South. They are mahusive. So, on a general basis they keep germs at bay and they mean that I rarely get properly ill. Tonsils are like nostril hairs in their function of preventing germ attacks don'tcha know! BUT, when they let their guard slip and the germ invasion manages to cross no man's land, then BOY do I get ill. My tonsils are currently so swollen that I geniunely can't eat anything because when I try to swallow the food bounces back up off of the wall of tonsilly swolleness that has been installed. Gross.

Shindig Ahoy!

2009-10-10T04:50:00.000-07:00

Well last night was just lovely wasn't it! I had a bloody good time I must admit. Everyone looked extremely gorgeous. Cor Blimey, what a good-looking bunch. Congratulations to Gina and Andrew who both looked spiffing. Their first dance had us all 'awwwing' with vigour. It was just a brilliant night with brilliant people. So naturally, many fantastically fun things occurred! As usual, I got far too drunk and further tarnished my ongoing efforts to make people believe that I am an intelligent and respectable youth, not at all representative of the typical rowdy teenager of today.

Here is some evidence of 'Too much booze' syndrome:

Mr Woodward and I attempted to stun the crowd with our drunken dancing. It was going well until wobbly heels, flailing limbs and head-butting ensued. Chaos.

I proceeded to tell everyone, and I mean everyone, regardless of their desire to hear it, that "My Nana bought me this dress", "My Nana is so fashionable", "I love my Nana", "My Nana is the best Nana". All true by the way.

I fell down the stairs and landed on the Penroses. Legs akimbo and stick-on boobs threatening to come unstuck at any minute. It was highly embarrassing. I can only offer my deepest apologies and blame it on the heels.

I did my 'leaning-back dance'; a sure sign that the inebriation has gone too far. I get to a point of drunkness where I am certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that my limbo-esque move is possibly the most impressive thing happening in today's society.

During one of my many trips to the loo (I prematurely broke the pee barrier) I took a picture of myself in the mirror and laughed at it for a solid minute. Loser.

My departing comment to the lovely Chapmans as they set off on the walk home was "Don't get raped". The concern was genuine despite the flippant delivery.

And finally, stealing a trolley from Lidl and pushing Alice around the car park in the rain was the most fun ever. Drunken Trolley Dash Extravaganza.

I LOVE PARTIES!

S'later alligators.

2009-09-25T04:27:00.000-07:00

This morning I've felt the need to be comforted. I've only gone and got the bladdy misery guts haven't I! Sheesh.

I've had to put on my Cuddly Maroon Cashmere Jumper (£4 in the M&S menswear sale. Size XXL). I've had to have Florence singing to me on repeat through itunes (I must become the lion-hearted girl lalalaaaa). I've had to have an epic bowl of cereal consisting of cheerios, special K AND shreddies (two helpings I might add). And I've had to browse the t'interweb, looking at and lusting for pretty dresses that I cannae afford (damn you ASOS.com)

Most of my friends have gone off to Uni now and are currently drinking copious amounts of alcomahol, making lots of brand spanking new friends and generally moving on into the next chapter of life. Despite it being my own decision to take a gap year, I am feeling a little left behind. Sigh. Yes I am silly and selfish and I want to ring them every day just to remind them not to forget about me. We were a good bunch at school and we got on like a blazin' house so I already miss them rather a lot really. This is the main thing that is giving me the misery guts.

Another thing is that I ain't got no monies. Me and 90% of the population of the world eh? Why can't we all just be nice and rich? Oh yeah.. the economy will crash, blah blah blah. Boring political stuff.

The final bullet point on my 'cruddy things list: Last night I had a dream that my brother died. It was possibly the most realistic dream I've ever had. No surreal flying giraffes or roads made of tin foil or anything; just worryingly realistic situations with realistic dialogue and real people. It was absolutely horrific. In my dream I was crying so hard that I couldn't breathe and I was choking and everything. Suddenly I woke up to find that the crying bit wasn't just a dream - my pillow was wet and I was crying like a toddler. Do you know when toddlers cry so much that their faces are wet and they aren't actually making any noise because they can't catch their breath? And it's heartbreaking to watch? That was me last night. For a second I panicked and wondered if Callum really had died, because why else would I be in such a state in the middle of the night? And all I could think about was how I'd had a go at him earlier that evening for not making me some soup! He's at school now and until I see him in the flesh this avo when he gets home, I don't think I'm going to be able to put it out of my mind. Rubbish. And quite creepy.

However, despite all of this whining and on a much happier note, I just received a speldourful text, which made me feel much happier:
"I will wrap your beautiful heart in my big snuggly fleecy blanket of friendship, whether you like it or not."
Cor, she's lovely. Now I am smiling.

Ta-ta.

2009-08-25T04:05:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, the 20th August 2009, was a rather monumental day for me. Not only because I received my A-level results, not merely because 7 years of hard slog have been rewarded, not simply because doors are being opened for me and friends but because (drum roll please) ...I have never been so drunk in my entire life. I think what happened to me that fateful night at Tiger Tiger was really quite hilarious. It is my duty to retell it, perhaps even pass it down through the generations as a warning; alcohol ain't all that. After some thought, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to regale you with my evening of wonder is through the medium of texts. All of the texts reproduced in this blog are 100% genuine and have not been tampered with at all.

To: Tebb
Time: 20:37
75p vodka red bull. Hurry along :) x X

Tebb asked where we were. Excitement builds for an epic night

To: Tebb
Time: 20:48
A booth in the 70s bit x X

To: Rachel
Time: 22:22
Where are you? We love YOU

She replies something about Hanson and glitter balls

To: Rachel
Time: 22:23
That makes no sense. Where are you?

To: Tebb
Time: 23:36
I'm lost I'm lost. I'm in the loos x Xx

This is where it all goes wrong

To: Finch
Time: 00:00
I can't see i modud youn I'm in ve jon in going to be real. Hols me. I def awful. This sucks. I''m sweating. I feel shit.

To: Finch
Time: 00:11
I'm sacred. I haven't drunk that much. I feel freaked out cos I feel so drunk. H've been sat on the toilert floor for an hour

To: Finch
Time: 00:24
Please help me please. I can't leave the toilets. I feel so ill. I do't know wit t do. XXXX

My friends were in the toilets calling my name. I was too drunk to notice

To: Finch
Time: 00:30
Ther's noone here. I'm so ill. i'm on my own. Weher shall I goo? XXX

My knight in shining armour tells me he's coming to save me

To: Finch
Time: 00:38
I'm inma pass ouut. I feel so bad. Where dy I wait? I feel so bad. Help me x X

To: Finch
Time: 00:47
The main door of Tiger? wHEN are you here? I am not in a good wan. I Boo hardly get out. I have jkangok. Boo. I am stuck x X

I return home to Finch's flat only to discover that all my overnight stuff, my clothes for the next day and my bike are still at Fi's house in Havant. I was meant to have gone back to stay at hers. So, on Friday morning, my lovely lovely man had to drive me to Fi's so that I could collect my stuff, get changed and go to rehearsal. I turned up to the rehearsal 20 minutes late because I'd had to stop several times on the way to jump off of my bike and throw up into the bushes. I arrived with a bucket in tow (the morning's car journey proved too much of a daunting prospect without one) and proceeded to chunder 18 times throughout the day, much to the bemusement of my fellow cast members! The afternoon ended with a cheery suggestion from Vincent and Nathan of 'anyone fancy the pub?'

Off on Holly-day, innit.

2009-08-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside...
Shame we're going to Herefordshire really then isn't it. Heehee.

Off for a lovely week in a little cottage. I am really rather excited. Sure; skiing is thrilling, camping is adventurous, hot climates are tempting but to be honest a quiet week in beautiful surroundings with hot running water is my idea of heaven at the moment. I do feel slightly guilty because for the rest of the family this is an opportunity to escape the hustle and bustle of the 9 to 5 - jobs and responsibilities. For me, it's a chance to continue doing what I've done for the last 2 months: bum around achieving nothing. Since school ended (sob) I have found myself to be the most successful slob. It seems that without motivation I lapse into lazy rubbishness.

I need a mission...something to get my brain and bum in gear.

If only I had something to work towards.

If I only I was doing something of huge importance with copious amounts of responsibility attached.

Something like, oh I don't know, directing a play...?

Ah yes, that's right, I am doing that.

PANIC.

Bleurgh

2009-07-20T18:23:00.000-07:00

I am getting more than a little sick and tired of my complete inability to drink alcohol without feeling horrendously ill and (pardon the crudeness...) chundering like a demon. It may only be one pint of cider, it may only be one glass of pimms but regardless of quantity, it's bound to come back and haunt me. Literally. Sick sick sick of it. Notice how the word 'sick' has apt implications!!! My body is not a temple, it's a major fecking letdown. And that, my friends, is that.

Blame it on the boogie.

2009-06-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

Wow, Michael Jackson is dead.

The reaction to his death has been quite literally overwhelming. Facebook was flooded with statuses such as 'MJ is dead', 'OMG, a legend has died' and 'RIP MJ'.

The LA Times probably used Facebook as an official source.

All due respect to the man and his family and friends - death is always a tragedy.

However, I must alleviate the sheer pressure that has been put on my brain by all the annoying, attention-seeking ignoramuses of this world.

Firstly, I love how, all of sudden, people are on nickname terms with 'MJ'. Oh silly me, they must have known him personally - been BFFs, chatted on MSN or something. But part of me is suspicious that these numbnuts just don't know how to spell Michael; is it A before E, or E before A? Hmmmm, Tricky.

Secondly, (and here's where I state the obvious) every sodding day millions of people die in horrific ways, not a sin to their name, undeserving and afraid and most importantly without a penny to leave to their children and families. Not to mention a multi-million dollar empire. But does anyone devote their evenings to mourning the deaths and praising the lives of these people? These strangers? No. No they do not. Because if you don't know someone, it is incredibly easy to distance yourself from their death - it's human nature! We are a selfish species! So why is it that we are all selfish and oblivious until the death is that of someone who has given us some chart-toppers? Then all of a sudden people are reverential and self-righteous.

Don't get me wrong - Mr Jackson did a lot for the entertainment industry and to his fans I'm sure he was an idol, an inspiration - all that jazz. I feel for his family. But to those people who have been damning the jokes and quips that have been circulating the web, you obviously have not suffered enough personal bereavement. I absolutely resent the fact that anyone should be attacked for not 'respecting' his death. It's not disrespect! Perhaps it's just indifference. But I didn't know the feller!

If the general public put as much energy into worrying about poverty, starvation and hatred than they have put into mourning a celebrity that they didn't even know, we'd be making steps towards a better nicer globe, innit.

Oh how I love to jump up onto my high horse. But seriously, people annoy me.

I wish I was a trekkie

2009-05-17T14:28:00.000-07:00

I am proud (yes proud) to report that I have seen the Star Trek movie TWICE already. I feel like a true geek. But there's just a whole level of geekdom that I will never be able to achieve - the whole speaking Klingon, wearing pointy Vulcan ears and that. That makes me quite sad. The movie was so GOOD. "Good God man, I'm a doctor not a physicist!" Go see it now. RUN...go...now...

What else? Ummm...Only an official week left of actual proper school and then (dun dun dunnnn) exams. I am far too too lazy and laid back about said exams but hey ho, it normally turns out okay despite the distinct lacks of revision. So fingers crossed that my four leaf clover will serve me well one last time! It will be so weird to say that I hold no actual affiliations with PHS any more. I love my school. It's a love-hate relationship. Often it hates me, and I love it, and I hate that I love it.

Cowboy has jetted off to L'america for THREE whole weeks. That's pretty much like forever. But I have assurances of presents and spoiling on his return. I am a lucky lucky thing is what I am.

General goings-on are normal really. Oh! I have a car! That's new! Thank you to Penny for leaving it to me. You are just lovely and I can't even express my gratitude in words so i have been blowing kisses instead. Anything else? ... Nope. Life trundles on like a penny farthing being ridden down a cobbled street. How poetic.

Bed time now.

If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Spoken like a true genius, Spock.

Traaaa-laaa-laaa. Over and out.

Una lentejuela.

2009-03-05T13:08:00.000-08:00

Hooray, hooray, Durham let me in. This is good thing number 1 of recent weeks. I thought they would say 'no, you are too unclever' but they said 'yes, we like you please' which is most exciting. Good thing number 2 was the Penelopiad. It was splendiforous and I miss it like crazy. I can't get the lines out of my head! All of the performances went pretty much perfectly and we couldn't wished for a better success so a big sigh of relief from all of us.

My room is super duper tidy at the moment, which, for some reason, makes me feel like a much better person. I think It's because I don't feel like a dirty tramp living in squalor any more. Strange how the state on one's room can have such an effect on their psyche.

School is slightly getting us all down. It's just getting to that point where elitism is becoming an intolerable ingredient of daily life. It is a source of joyous hilarity to us all that our promotional billboards read 'we treat everyone the same; as individuals.' It sums up two things - the pretentious trying-to-be-clever-and-profound-itis with the use of a crappy pun AND the lies that spew forth from the mouth of the top dogs every day. But hey, I suppose I have enjoyed some of the best years of my life so far within it's walls and I have a lot to thank it for. So I will try to keep schtum and keep the complaining to a minimum.

Cowboy is a wondrous thing. He makes my sun shine.

Why I am always yawning?

I love Bill.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments...

Ho Ho Ho!..hum

2008-12-19T08:36:00.000-08:00

Christmas approaches. Shopping, eating, presents, more eating, family and a bit more eating. Despite the popular opinion that Christmas originated as an occasion to celebrate the birth of Christ, I maintain that it is in fact a way to make us all FAT and POOR for January. But I love Christmas from my toes to my fingertips and I am really bloody excited about it now. This year, I've opted for brown paper and red ribbon to wrap my presents. What an interesting fact for you all. Not.

I am eighteen which means I can go and get slammed on Christmas eve! Haha! Brilliant. Being 18 hasn't really done anything for me though. I don't feel more mature and I don't look older neither. But it means that we're at that age now when important wotsits, such as university and student loans, are speedily approaching. AAAAAH. RUN. We're not ready for these scary life progressions. I may suggest that we bar ourselves inside the sixth form centre with a life supply of baked beans and microwave meals. We would be safe from exams and offers and applications. Fingers crossed for all my wonderfully clever friends - Hopefully everyone recieves the offer they are after.

Wind In The Willows has been marvellous. Exhausting and time consuming yes, but brilliant and fun and lovely too. The best bit is that even us chorus members (and there's a good few of us..) have been able to feel rather important cos it's such an ensemble show. Having said that, the principles are obviously the most amazing and we all bask in their shiny shiny glow - the show would not be existent without them. UP TAILS ALL! And whilst performances have been taking place, rehearsals for The Penelopiad have been going...let's say...interestingly? I wouldn't go as far as 'well' but it's definitely not awful. This could be a very strangely strange show - A Mrs Comrie special - watch this space.

I'd like to be under the sea, in an octupus's garden in the shade. Itunes is on shuffle - my favourite. I love the beatles.

P.S HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAR-LA-LA-LEY

How do I love thee?

2008-10-07T12:55:00.000-07:00

Let me count the...bagels.

I'm not so sure that Elizabeth Barrett Browning would be all that impressed that Robert Browning, her husband-to-be, has been replaced by a snack food as the subject of her most famous sonnet.

Advertising is so rubbish.

x

Stupid school.

2008-09-30T15:13:00.000-07:00

Stupid coursework.
Stupid lessons.
Stupid responsibilities.
Stupid university applications.

Bum bum bum.

Why why why.

I would like to fast forward my life 5 years or so in order to skip out all the boring bits and land myself straight into a lovely detached house in the country with my lovely cowboy and a lovely garden.

On the plus side, house play rehearsals are going well. Austen are very much going to win this year. We have the best cast ever and the most enthusiastic backstage peoples. Our Mowgli is the cutest thing in the known universe. YESSSS!

xxx

Blimey O Riley!

2008-08-27T12:02:00.000-07:00

The popping of my Edinburgh festival cherry. I must report on the glorious, wonderful, splendiforous world of the Edinburgh Festival.

I have never felt so fully immersed in anything as I did during my week at the festival. Our itinerary: We performed every day at 11:15am and were out of the theatre by 1 o'clock. The space was tiny and had a major lack of air-con so managing the get in, the performance itself, and the get out made for a pretty draining couple of hours. Then it was down to the Royal Mile for a three hour stint of flyering. We met some of the worlds strangest individuals and some very surreal conversations. Then home for supper and out to see a show or two.

We were exhausted to the extent that we didn't squabble, bicker, or slam any doors all week long! I must highlight that our house was made up of our all female cast and directors. So for a group of teenage, female, drama students to avoid a single tiff for a week of living in close quarters was nothing short of a miracle.

Our show was fun. It wasn't much else though. None of us were particularly fond of the script or overly proud to be in it (which made promoting it a hard task). We got some really rather mean reviewers and I would like to take this opportunity to tell them to GET A LIFE, TAKE A HIKE, PICK ON SOMEBODY YOUR OWN SIZE. We tried our very best and I think that is all that should ever matter! Who cares if our entrances were late and our scene changes less than perfect. The enthusiasm was there. And the shabby Italian accents surely counted for something?...Surely?

Our priority for the week was not to receive rave reviews anyway but to experience as much of the festival as humanly possible. I think we did our objective proud. We squashed so so much theatre into one week that I have been coming across rogue ticket stubs for the last 2 weeks. The shows were all fantastic and inspiring. To name a few - Vanishing Point (a show by an American company performed outside, entirely on stilts and telling the story of evolution...we think), Lost In The Wind (a devised piece by a small company featuring some of the most imaginative use of bubbles, fans and puppets I have ever seen) and Women Of Troy (staged in a completely unlit room. The fourth wall was torn down by the characters grabbing, shouting at and abusing their audience.) Wowzer.

I am already saving to go back next year. Any who has ever thought about going please do. You won't regret it. And if you're planning on going next year, see you there!

Another thing that took place were 3 As (drama english spanish) and in maths... drum roll... C!! Who needs maths anyway. I doubt that any person in a nice normal career ever has to use pascals triangle. Come on. Summer has whizzed by and it's nearly time to go back to school. But this time we will be the toppest of the top dogs. HA. Watch out little'uns.

P.S the cowboy has put up with me and my ways for over a year. It was exactly a year on the 19th. That is amazing. He bought me the most beautiful bunch of flowers I have ever seen. Ain't that pretty.

xxx

Sleep Walking

2008-07-17T05:54:00.000-07:00

Tra la laaaaa.
I think I have been sleep walking for the past two weeks! I have never before been so continuously knackered. Jeez Louise - things are taking their toll. I'm getting old obviously.

I think I'm yet to recover from Glastonbury (absolutely one of the greatest weekends of my life and I plan to go again. And again. And again.) There wasn't much sleep to be had at the festival. Partly due to the phenomenal amount of things there were to do and my consequent reluctance to go to bed at risk of missing out! But partly to do with the hoards of drunk and drugged up weirdos who made it their job to wander round the site shouting and screaming and laughing and generally being very noisy 24/7. Good for them.

One thing I must proclaim: I LOVE JAY-Z. His performance was spot on. Good man.

I'm going to the Edinburgh festival in three weeks time. We are taking Dario Fo's Devil In Drag and we are so so so so so so so so excited now. There had been extremely limited rehearsal time for us, resulting in, with only three weeks to go, us being only half way through the blocking of the play. Uh oh. But we are all trying to be optimistic and seeing it as an opportunity to experience the festival more than anything else. If anyone is interested in a touch of sponsorship, we would be most obliged. Heehee. What a plug!

First night of Ghost is Friday. Scared? Me? No! Of course not. Well.... Maybe a wee bit. IT WILL BE GREAT. Please come. Havant Arts Centre, 7:30pm, be there or be a triangular (which is far worse than being square)

Paintballing = Pain

2008-05-26T10:15:00.000-07:00

Ouch. And more ouch.
On Sunday we went paint balling as a very late birthday present for my brother (his birthday was in August just to give you an idea of the extent of the lateness. Mum's organisational skills. Pfttt.) And I have been left with a delightful array of bruises as a momento. Blue, purple, brown and greeny yellow. The whole spectrum.

It was SO much fun but my competitive streak was definitely unleashed and I can't say that it's the best part of my personality. The thing is, the guys in charge split us into two teams - one consisting solely of grown men and teenage boys, some with their own equipment, ready to destroy and defeat. Our team was predominantly made up of boys of eleven and twelve. So the outcome was pretty easy to foresee from the start.

The other team, the blues, were utter pooheads. They took no notice of the fact that the majority of our team had not yet entered puberty and proceeded to take no pity whatsoever. The rule of 'no shooting from closer than 10 feet' was ignored and the rule of 'stop shooting someone when they are already out and screaming "I'M OUT YOU IDIOTS"' was pretty much overlooked too.

At one point the Marshall made the call of cease fire. Our team lowered our weapons. The blue team, however, decided to carry on sending a shower of bullets over the fort wall. A second call of cease fire was made. And ignored again. Then, just after the Marshall shouted 'cease fire!' for the third time, I got absolutely pelted in the face by a convoy of bullets. The bullets move at 100mph. So, I will shamelessly admit, I stood up, seething and choking on a mouthful of paint, and shouted "CEASE FIRE MOTHERF*CKERS". As I said...not the best side of my personality...

Anyway, the day was lots of fun and a good work out too but I would strongly recommend that you try to avoid fat, smelly men who will insist on shooting you at point blank and behaving as if they believe they are truly fighting for Queen and country. Jeez Louise.

xxx

A Streetcar Named...satisfaction

2008-05-17T04:15:00.000-07:00

HAH. What a cheesy headline. I should write for a trashy newspaper.

Last night I went to see 'A Streetcar Named Desire' at the Nuffield Theatre with school. I totally enjoyed it and I was impressed with almost every aspect. It was met with some mixed reactions from my class but I think people were a bit harsh on the cast and designers simply 'cos our expectations were too high. Some of us were expecting performances to rival Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando but those two were so perfect for the roles and such legends that I don't think anyone will ever live up to them.

The set was really good considering it had to incorporate the outside, upstairs, and downstairs of the little flat in New Orleans. But...Blanche was brunette. It took us a good half hour to get our heads round that'un. It seemed to contradict Williams image of her. In his stage directions she is described as a moth, white, pure, fragile, dressed head to toe in white. The director pretty much ignored all of that and dressed her in a tailored outfit on her first entrance which, instead of enhancing her delicacy, made her seem harsh and angular.

Stanley, Blanche and Stella were all fantastic, despite a few lapses in their accents. I absolutely love the play because it's so full of passion and, inevitably, desire. In the audience there was an annoying group of people who decided that watching a woman being destroyed and violated and watching a man struggle with his fury was absolutely hilarious. They actually laughed. Out loud. Idiots.

Exams are rubbish. Someone should call up that lot up in the houses of common and ask them to abolish exams altogether. Only one thing is saving my sanity at the moment - the prospect of being able to retake them all in January! Ha.

Hugs all round

Ouch of the Brain variety.

2008-05-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

There are far far far too many things happening at the moment.
I shall list them to emphasize my point:

1) AS level exams starting in a week. Oh dear.
2) Driving lessons. Although they've fizzled out slightly due to lack of funds
3) A new job at the Bosham Inn. I need the dosh rather badly.
4) I'm in the lovely Scotsman's play!! That is very exciting.
5) My Spanish oral exam is on Thursday. I should probably learn that.
6) Preparation for the Edinburgh Festival. I am playing Francipante. Cool.
7) Splitting time between la mamma, la papa and the ill grandmammas. If I was very rich I'd put all my relatives in one huge mansion so that I'd be able to see them all lots.

It doesn't sound like that much but put it into context, (I am unorganized and useless and a bit scatty) and I think you'll find that this amount of busyness is a recipe for disaster.

Moving on to my next random thought. I was trying to practice writing essays about Stanislavski for my drama exam. I am aware that, to a great many people, he was revolutionary and pioneering and made theatre what it is today. But he was a bit of a pretentious old sod wasn't he. I mean, I think all of his techniques make a lot of sense - he cleared the way for realism and sincerity of emotion on stage and an empathetic audience. But how on earth he managed to repeat himself and waffle on enough to stretch his principles across 3 books is a complete wonder. This led, almost inevitably, to my essays all being of the same nature: blundering and repetitive. Hmmmm, I think perhaps some more revision is in order.

What else is new? Well, I am currently excited for my Cowboy because he is doing an Open University course on photography. Hopefully it will help him open some new doors and nice things like that. I will be there to give him a little push over the threshold too because I don't want him to miss any opportunity - that photographering malarkey is a competitive business y'know!

And here's something VERY exciting! I am going to Glastomaberryyyyy. I am most excited about this. I have compiled a list of things I must aquire if the weekend is to be perfect such as: A nice straw hat, lots of hippy bangles, some hair clips shaped like daisies, baby wipes (in excess) and a poncho. If anyone knows where such items can be aquired I would be most grateful. Ta.

Over and out. I s'pose.

¡Dios mío! A week in Spain

2008-04-12T02:06:00.000-07:00

I am certainly, truly, absolutely, positively, definitely and without doubt the luckiest girl on this spinning orb.

Mr Finch took me on holiday last week to Spain. We stayed in his mums apartment in Calahonda. It was on the Costa del Sol so, granted, we ran into more tourists than locals but it was still lovely and we managed to search out some real rural Spain.

It was an amazing holiday and I didn't really want to have to come back home.
We went to the beach and got beautiful, bronze tans.. (well, okay, so I went red as a lobster...).
We enjoyed rainy days running from shelter to shelter in the city of Fuengirola. This is where I was allowed to go shopping. Yay.
We used solely public transport - the buses and trains were cheap as chips! - and managed to find our way around all by ourselves.
We tried in vain to find a tapas bar to no avail but settled with a paella which was yum yum.

I think Mijas was my favourite day. It was a small town up in the mountains and it was wonderfully Spanish. The streets were cobbled and enclosed by flat, white houses where little Spanish ladies were hanging washing from their window sills. There was a tiny Church that we ventured into (how cultured) and there was even a bull ring. We went into the bull ring for a tour, excited to be able to explore the location of such a prodigious Spanish tradition. It was sad though, how quickly our smiles faded when we saw the blood stains in the sand and the sight of the little bull looking out at us from over his gate. Bull-fighting is strange.

Torro torro!

Another brilliant day was our beach trip. I love beach trips and this one was especially perfect. We took sandwiches and cans of coke in our little cool box so lunch was sorted. Bat and ball was a fabulous form of entertainment. We managed 13 hits without dropping it! And we even got some Spanish little'uns involved! Cowboy decided to throw himself into the sea, which must have been below freezing. He also found me a shell and taught me to skim stones. AND bought me an ice cream! He is amazing.

All week I was treated like a princess and I was a little spoilt I must admit. I was bought souvenirs, cooked dinner and my every wish was granted! Thank you to my cowboy.

I love holidays.

And it's the end of an era.

2008-03-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

Just So is over.
I don't really know what I will do with my weekday evenings / Saturday mornings for a little while. With such a short run after such a comparatively huge period of rehearsal, it feels like we hardly reached the summit of our potential. Every evening we pushed that little bit harder, got a bit more applause, a bit more laughter. It was so much fun and no-one in the cast can be faulted. Every one was absolutely amazing and I will miss it hugely! I really really did embrace my inner rhino in the end and I am now very protective over my role! She is my very own rhino.

I suppose all I can do now is immerse myself in my studies to make up the lost time (pfffft.)

Yum. I do love a good cuppa tea. The thought just crossed my mind. Very possibly prompted by the mug that is standing right in front of me.

xxx

Skin or fur or feathers..

2008-03-14T14:37:00.000-07:00

In a weeks time Just So will be finished forever. A sad prospect in my eyes. I think there will be feelings of relief amongst the people who feel that their lives have been ruled, nay, dictated by this show for the best part of seven months. However we will miss it. I have never in my life endured such an emotional roller coaster as a result of something like this:
First came the excitement for the proposal and the auditions
Then the jealousy at the casting (I'm so nasty sometimes)
Then the acceptance
Then the loss of confidence
Then the period of nonchalance and indifference
Then the excitement and motivation
Then the apprehension
And now, a feeling of terror. I'm also worried that people think I have a much bigger part than I really do. On the contrary; being a mahusive drama queen I have managed to squeeze every last ounce of over-reaction and blown-out-of-proportion-ness out of my role. What can I say! I love the drama.

I'm falling really rather behind with the work at the momento. I feel 'on top of things' if I can narrow it down to 4 overdue assignments. It's getting a bit desperate. And exams in May! Oh dear gosh. On the upside though, I am nearly ready to take my driving test so watch out world! I will terrorize the roads of Hampshire and West Sussex yes indeed.

xxx

Cowboy.

2008-03-06T10:44:00.000-08:00

Yee-hah. Sitting at the computer with my most favourite person in the world. With a cup coffee made by that self same person. Yum yum. (That refers to the coffee and the person.)

Yay.

x

Croak..Croak..

2008-02-28T07:56:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to talk and do normal things but I totally have the flu. My throat feels like someone slashed out my tonsils in my sleep. Every time I get up I feel like I'm walking through a giant vat of treacle. I'm fluctuating between sub-zero, shivery temperatures and sweaty, boiling fevery things. Illness sucks.

On the upside though, it means that today I was able to indulge in a total of four episodes of Scrubs, two episodes of Fraiser, one of Will and Grace and one of King of Queens. I am ashamed to admit, though, that before this tirade of comedy hit the screen I was forced to sit through a good fifteen minutes of Jeremy Kyle until I resorted to stabbing my eyes out with a spork. The man is an idiot. He shouts very obvious things that any random person would be able to observe but, I assume because of the shouting, he gets applauded for it!
I give you an example:
"YOU HAVE HAD A KID WITH THIS GIRL AND NOW YOU ARE ON DRUGS"
Hoorah, clap clap clap, says the audience.
But surely he is just stating fact. Nothing more. Jeez.

I need more lemsip. And fast.

Ta-ra

SSWWWOOOOSH...

2008-02-20T10:48:00.000-08:00

..CRASH.

That is the sound of me, gracefully parrallel-turning my way down an Austrian mountain side, with my oversized shades poised on my head, and then face-planting most decidedly into a snow drift. I have had many a German geezer swearing at me and my lack of control but sadly I cannot speak German so the best they get out of me is a hesitant sorry and then an 'eat my dust suckaaaaa'. I have a burnt face like a lobster despite applying liberal amounts of factor 3 million every five seconds. Bummer.
I love skiing.

What a mad world.

2008-01-27T06:42:00.000-08:00

Last night was the 18th birthday of two girls at my sixth form. They had a mahusive party at the Drift Bar in southsea so we all glammed up and went out for a rave. It's strange how in circumstances such as that; a huge mixture of people, a very loud DJ and lots of drunkards, certain people suddenly show their true colours. I was actually quite shocked at the lack of morals and general self-respect people seemed to have! I also noticed that most of the people there were utterly fickle and shallow. There was one guy, about 17, who wasn't exactly ugly but let's just say he was no Romeo. He proceeded to make his way around the dance floor in a particularly slimy fashion. One of my close friends became his first victim. She thought she'd 'pulled' but we quickly realised that it wasn't the dawning of a new romance when he slapped her bum, wiped his mouth and moved on to the next available girl! I mean jeez, what is going on with the world.

The guys were acting like total primates. They saw something with a pulse, registered it as a female, and moved in for the kill. I almost wish I'd been born in the 20's. When my Nana talks about her experiences as a teenager it's all so lovely and proper. She went courting, she held hands and went for long walks in the evening. Nowadays people seem to skip the formalities and dive right in for the whole shabang. I think what this all boils down to is the fact that the world is being taken over by chavs. Every time we step outside we risk another chance of drowning in a sea of Fred Perry and Burberry. Losers.

I read an article the other day about a family in Europe, I think they were Russian, who walk on all four limbs. They had the same posture as a bear when it's running. It was so strange. The can't talk and their hands have got hard callouses like the soles of their feet. I couldn't quite believe how it's possible to grow up in a town full of normal, or should I say 'average', people and still recede to the habits of animals. This story and the gradual domination of chavs is leading me to believe that the human race may be taking a step back in terms of the evolution of intelligence. Shame.

Language is such a cool thing. I have decided that one of my favourite words is flamboyant. Isn't it awesome?! Flamboyant. Flamboyant.

I sing the body electric...

2008-01-20T04:49:00.000-08:00

Last night I went round to the lovely house of one of my favourite people; Miss Argent. Miss Argent, Miss Tebb and myself decided that, being the three musketeers and the drama queens, we just had to watch 'Fame'. It is one of my favourite movies and last night reminded me just how much I love it. Doris is jut the biggest and sweetest loser in the history film making and I am now determined to play that part!

The scene in the canteen is possibly the coolest five minutes of a film in the history of the universe. It leads me to wonder whether performing arts school would really be like that. Would everyone have such a huge passion? Would it all be spontaneous and just 'wow'? I don't know. I think it would definitely be very very hard graft though.

We had a lovely girly night. We painted nails, we watched movies, we sing hideously loudly to the soundtrack of wicked and, most importantly of all, we put the world to rights. We decided that we are currently drowning in people who we don't even know despite having seen them every day for the last five years. Everyone is going around with a front and a mask. It's all so false. What sillys. Hopefully once we get to uni the 'sillys' will realise that genuine is the way to be. Yep yep.

We ate brownies. And cakes. And shortbread. And more cakes. And cookie dough ice cream. And bacon hot-pot. And more ice cream. And then more cakes. The diet starts today.

OH MY GOODNESS. You would never believe what happened to me. You know that silly 'Hamlet' essay that drove me to the very brink of my sanity? I was truly teetering of the edge. Well, my teacher handed it back to me and this is how the conversation went:
Mr X: Sian, I can tell you struggled with this.
Me: Yes, yes I did
Mrs X: Hmmm. Yes. So, I've drawn you up a new plan.
Me: What? It was wrong?
Mrs X: Well, I can tell you lost all sense of direction with it. It needs redoing.
Me: ...(silence. Perhaps a hint of an evil look.)
Mrs X: Is something wrong?
Me: Well, it just caused me so much stress the first time that I feel a bit disheartened now.
Mrs X: Right.
Me: Is there nothing in it worth keeping, what about this paragraph? (points)
Mrs X: Um, well, I suppose that bit is salvageable.

So, after all that, the best I get is 'salvageable'. Great. Oh well - I plan to struggle through.

Happy vibes and smiley smiles to all.

Uh oh.

2008-01-13T09:51:00.000-08:00

I am in a controversial mood. I hate the government and stuff. Who decided that we would all obey some silly men in suits? Who made them superior? Stupid men. With their stupid ties and cufflinks. And stupid meetings where they all shout at each other and try to be funny. Sadly, politicians just aren't funny. It must be genetic. Stupids.

I was thinking about the Bench and how wonderfully professional all the shows are and it lead me to think about the pitch on Thursday. I would like say that I think the tensions in regards to the next pitch are going to reach a rather high level. The Bench is full of amazingly talented and pioneering individuals, all of whom are eager to exhibit their finest work. Understandably. And I think that there happens to be some particularly daring pitches coming up. Will there be a clash of the Titans? Who knows!

I do hope that all 'pitchers' will re-pitch their pitch (cor, that's a mouthful (that's what she said. Teehee)) ... Where was I? Ah yes. I hope they will re-pitch their pitches if they are unsuccessful. I think so many plays that have huge potential miss their opportunity because they just happen to be up against some very strong competition.

Good luck everyone though!

Here is some fantastic news: I have purchased a new folder for school, with dividers and paper to boot! I think that this sets me up to have a very organised couple of weeks. A tad overdue but better late than never. It is hard to keep up with everything though. The musical seems to be taking up a mahusive amount of time. I am most sure that it will be worth it. It will. Yes, it will. Won't it?

...

Can anybody think of something nice that they can say about a rhino? A rhino? Some trait that doesn't cause ya to have bouts of chronic nausea in a rhino? A rhino?

xxx

The world is my oyster?

2008-01-08T04:38:00.001-08:00

It has dawned on me recently that I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Apparently I am still but young and I have all the time in the world to figure it out. I believe, however, that this is far from true. In only a years time I will be submitting my applications to university. The course I choose will very much shape my future but I when I see myself in ten years time there is no inkling of a career. My family have had me labelled as a lawyer pretty much since I learnt how to argue. The Spanish and the drama seem like things I want to be doing for the rest of my life but I don't think I have the courage to take the plunge and commit myself to joining the millions of other Kate Winslet wannabes. If anyone has any bright ideas please email them to destinedtoscrubtoilets@hoplesscase.com

I have handed in my English coursework. At last. I would very much like to thank two people who have managed to prevent me from possibly committing suicide in the last few days, by bludgering myself to death with my copy of Hamlet. Just when it seemed that hope was very much dwindling, the Natty Chap sent me a message full of inspirational thoughts and the lark. That kept me going for another day if not more. So ta. And then, when I reached the second trough of my Hamlet roller coaster, my beloved cowboy swooped by and sat with me for a good four hours until we had finished the blasted thing, bibliography and all. So hoorah. Bill Shakespeare was a wily one and I'd like to think that, somewhere, he is having a good old chortle at how much angst his epic of a play has caused me.

In other news, my Nana has broken her foot falling down the stairs. I love my Nana to little tiny pieces. You wouldn't believe it but she's 80 this year. Grandparents are such a blessing and I wouldn't be without my Nana. When my Dad-dad died (I couldn't say Grandad as a baby, so Dad-dad seemed the obvious choice!) it could've been easy to give up. But instead she honours him by making sure that not a day goes by that we don't forget how clever and funny and bloomin' talented he was.

A random entry today, my mind is wandering. It's more fun that way though.

"The word triumph starts with 'try' and ends with? That's right! A big ol' 'UMPH'!"
This is my favourite quote. Use it wisely.

xxx

Año Nuevo.

2008-01-07T08:54:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year and all that. Is New Year overrated? I sort of think so a little bit. In my life I have made about ten new years resolutions and I don't remember sticking to any of them. But then I suppose it's different strokes for different folks - I spose for many peoples new year is an actual chance to turn over a new leaf and start afresh! So good luck to those people.
This year my resolutions are to go to the gym and to organise my schoolwork. And my prediction of how long this one will last is a month. But hey ho, I will surely give it my best shot!
I was getting a bit depressed about the exam and coursework pressure and stuff. All in all this coming year was not looking great. Then my lovely cowboy gave me a lovely list of all the nice things that are happening and now I'm quite excited. I'm 18 this year. Hoorah.
School is awful at the moment. I'm tempted to give up. At the moment we've been set a Hamlet essay as our AS english coursework. I chose the title 'How far is Act 5 Scene 2 a fitting conclusion to Hamlet?'. My answer is this: It's not a fitting conclusion. Of course it isn't. Everyone dies and nothing is resolved. Even if things were resolved there'd be no-one left alive to feel any kind of satisfaction, rendering the resolve useless anyway! How on earth am I meant to turn that into a 1500 word essay? Help.
Stupid Hamlet.
Anyway. That is all.
Ta and love.
x

Blog Virginty

2007-11-20T12:42:00.000-08:00

It would appear that I have lost my blog virginity. How very exciting. At this moment in time I'm sitting at home, in my room, apparently 'looking after' my brother (Callum, 11). However, it seems to me that he needs very little 'looking after'. Sat in front of a PlayStation with a bag of crisps to keep him company, that boy could amuse himself happily for hours. So my purpose isn't really being served.

Anyway, I have my fingers tightly crossed for all those who are involved in the Wild Duck. The performance is well underway as I type so I hope they're enjoying themselves! It is a very intense piece of theatrical genius (arguably) and I know that analysing the various meanings and metaphors has been quite mentally draining for most of the people involved. They are a hugely talented bunch and I hope that they get the appreciation they deserve from the audience! I will clap them from where I sit 'cos they are blooming marvellous.

'Now' is a very busy time. At the moment, arrangements for the sixth form fashion show are very much in motion. I'm going to model (should be chucklesome) and I'm in a dance (which will be bloody hilarious). The fact that I have no co-ordination is not going to discourage me in either of these ventures! So there.

Then there's the school musical, 'Just So'. I don't seem to be able to get through one rehearsal without being overwhelmed with frustration! Not least because I'm playing the part of (drum roll please..) The Rhino. Yes, that leathery-skinned, horned creature will be me in a few months time! "I'm glad I've got a fair old lot of carbuncled sweaty and hot thick skin." Hoorah.

Along with homework, coursework, drama, work and friends, it's a busy ol' time. P.s. It's nearly my birthday. P.p.s. It's nearly Christmas. I love Christmas. The thought alone actually makes my smile from ear to ear.

And here is a place for me to openly vent all my random thoughts and the lark. Ta-da.