'orrible yet optimistic .

My photo
I don't mind if you despise this blog,yes it's great if you enjoy it, but rather selfishly, it's for me.It's oddly comforting knowing that my little opinion is floating around in cybersapce and will always be here.

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Winter Fonderland.

It only felt like yesterday when a huge group of us were shading ourselves at Sutton park in a last ditch attempt to heal our sun burnt shoulders. The summer flew by as did Autumn, Winter is well and truly here, and he doesn't seem to be easing us in gradually either. It wasn't until 5pm that I realised how thick the snow had fallen. With all this coursework, I just must have become oblivious. I hate letting things pass me by. I love winter. Not just because it is acceptable to wear boots and hats at school or not because we get to gorge ourselves with mince pies and mulled wine (although that is a factor) it is because it brings us all together,well it used to.

Despite the reoccurring depressing prospect you face every morning; hurling yourself out of your warm cocoon of a bed and onto the dark cold ice rink that is your wooden floor, there is nothing more beautiful then reaching up and peering out of your blinds or curtains to be greeted with a blanket of snow. It's ironic I chose the word blanket, as you often associate that word with warmth and comfort and snow in reality couldn't be further from those descriptions. When we were little my sister and I would refuse to allow our brother to play in the snow whilst it was snowing in fear that it would stop. We would literally barricade the doors, scream, do anything in order to keep him away from the crisp layer of heaven that awaited us outside. Looking back, it was a little irrational to say the least.

 Last years snow seemed so much more innocent, I suppose we all seemed so much more innocent. It's depressing that we have come to an age where Christmas has become just another day of the year. I distinctly remember being about 5 years old and unwrapping a huge toy castle, and reading the tag " To Jo, Merry Xmas Love Father Xmas", By this age I had already learnt to distinguish between my parents hand writing and this was most definitely my fathers. One year I was sleeping on my sisters floor ( we always share a room at Xmas) and my dads cover was well and truly blown when he stood on my stomach whilst trying to fill our stockings.

My twin sister and I used to apply so many layers of clothing that we could barely walk let alone frolic in the snow, warmth was essential.We would then run to the top of our road where our best friend lived and coax him out of bed (usually by throwing snowballs off his window) to join us. We would spend hours, making snowmen and giant snowballs that eventually transformed into solid ice boulders that would break your back if you attempted to move them. Then one day, our best friend moved.

 Anyway once the excruciating awakening is out of the way, it's time to play. Well it usually is, except this year I haven't actually found time to clamber into my 'snow gear' and get to grips the the sloppy stuff. Plus the fact that I have no-one to actually enjoy it with. It's odd how something is completely different when experienced alone. If you were alone and saw the most breath taking view, or sight, how could you ever rehearse and remember it if there is no-one to share the memory with. So yes, boo hoo me. My sister is working late at college and the only person , well in this case, thing that is willing to share the shriek evoking stuff with me is my dog ; Millie. She adores the snow, it certainly makes dog walking alot easier not only because she makes a pretty mean husky dog (despite being a collie cross) and my wellies make pretty nifty ski's but mainly because it means I don't have to carry around a soggy, stinky tennis ball to throw about for her. There are mounds of potential balls to be made, the best thing is I can reuse and recycle and if I haven't made the point that I'm an Eco-freak clear enough I will reinstate it.


Anyway, the dog is growling and the snow is melting. On winter nights I normally avoid walking all the way to the park but since the snow reflects the lights, it's as if I am walking in daylight and I need a long walk. A warm mince pie and ice cream is enough of an incentive to get me back home in under half an hour.


Saturday, 27 November 2010

The not-so-German Market

Last night a group of us went to the Birmingham Christmas Market. But instead of buying any German delicacies we decided to head to symphony hall and grab a cuppa. We were going to go to a jazz club but the 'legal' and 'illegal' divide began. The underage didn't fancy risking it and conjured up plan B. If we don't get in, we'll buy some sweets. ha. We sounded like such toddlers, whilst everyone else was drinking, we'd be getting hyper off e-numbers!

We didn't even try in the end and decided to go for a little winter wander down the canals, we took a few snaps along the way;

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

A few 'I don'ts' I won't stick to.

I don't want to get married.

I don't consider myself to be a feminist but I also don't consider myself to be the dependent type.I would like to find somebody that loves me an equal amount yada yada yada and all that mushy stuff, but in my eyes, marriage just puts out the fire. I would much rather have a passionate, unpredictable relationship with somebody than a marriage in which daily routines iron out any chance of spontaneity and schedules,plans, and meetings kill the romance. I'm probably a bit of a romantic, I want everything to be spontaneous , unplanned and unique. Marriage will probably become old fashioned , divorce rates are going through the roof. I never , ever want to come into contact with that wad of worry,  who does? I'd like to think of myself as adventurous, but when it comes down to it, I'm probably just scared, I don't want to get burnt.

I don't want kids.

I've never been great with children, I just can't bring myself to heighten my voice to such an extent that a baby will respond with a frothy gargle. Saying that, contradicting myself (something I often do) I still find it easy to crawl towards my dog and talk to her as if she were a child, somethings obviously a little flawed in my logic. Then again, dogs don't acquire language, they don't grow into a bogey covered, screaming children that answer back or ask 'why?' a ridiculous amount of times. I'm a firm believer that children should be treated like adults, not in the sense that they can drink and smoke but I mean in conversation. Another reason I don't want children is that slight chance that you invest your life savings, your time and most importantly your love into this child and then at the age of 16 they turn around and tell you to 'f**k off'. There is nothing to stop them doing so. Imagine, that cute curly haired toddler grows into an antisocial, addicted, attention seeker? It is just not worth the risk.

I don't want to drive.

I've always prided myself on being a little Eco-warrior and I never in a million years ever envisaged me driving. I had this warped idea that I would be using public transport for the rest of my days. That was until I  got on the 33 . ha. On a serious note though, peer pressure and practicality got the best of me and there I was on my 17th birthday , a bag of nerves behind the wheel. I've been learning to drive for almost a year and just the thought of the about of carbon emissions I've churned out alone makes me feel ill. I still stand by my fundamental thought; that I want to live somewhere where I don't need to drive, or get a bus , or a train for that matter. I want to live in a remote place that has everything ,that's self-contained . I want to ride my bicycle (refrain from bursting into song) everywhere. You could call it sad, but everyone has their own little way in which they want their life to be.
I don't want to live in England.
Whenever I try to imagine my future, where I'll be, England just doesn't seem to fit into the equation. Funnily enough I see myself in New Zealand, not that I've ever been there or even know a great deal about the place. Images of riding down long winding roads deeply embedded in the countryside, surround by vast green constantly pervade into everday life, it's my idea of heaven. The slight problem is that If I really want to be a script writer, and really want to be successful I will need to be based in London, the media hub. Part of me thinks, no I've been given so many opportunities because I live in England. Seems like I've talked myself out of my own opinion.All I know is that the city is not for me.
I don't want lots of possessions.
After reading an article a couple of weeks ago about minimalism it has really being playing on my mind. It wasn't until I moved rooms( in my house) that I realised I wasn't aware I owned half the stuff I did. This lead me to the conclusion that, If I didn't remember I had it, then why do I need it? The logical thing then was to chuck it all out, but the is a little hoarder deeply intertwined with my soul that just wouldn't allow it. Another thing is that my twin sister always borrows my things, and I couldn't care less, I spend loads of money on boots, I love boots and you'd think that when I caught her wearing my newest pair I would have gone mad, but nothing urged me, no anger, nothing. I went to a clothes swap at my Mums friends house, it was the best thing I've done in ages, If everyone did the same, we'd never need to buy clothes ever again.My iPod hasn't been charged in weeks, I don't need it. I send about 3 texts a day, that is less than my 68 year old father! I would love to travel, anywhere, just to see if I could survive with a bag of my things, so I could come back and just donate all my things to charity or friends.
So I want to ;
                    Live  in NZ, ride my bike, write my scripts and avoid screaming children at all costs.

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

"get my jacket off!" "get my face off!"

By request I've decided to give you an insight into the world of 'Twindom'.

She found the camera straight away,typical.

We're non-identical twins (although we look shockingly similar) and yes we have our little tiffs (usually revolving around clothes)but they're normally outweighed by moments when we both feel that there is no-one in the world we could trust more ,but is this usual to sisters ,what makes a twin relationship different? Well here is all you need to know about 'her' and I.

I think being a twin really helps your memory, we'll always reminisce which refreshes and revises, essentially solidifying our memories. I'm not too sure how I'll cope alone with remembering and I'm sure she'll feel as if I've been biased if she gets a chance to read this. I'll try to be as neutral as possible.

Glancing over photos of when I was a lot younger there is a distinct case of ‘double-act’ syndrome (when one twin is messy and the other is tidy), in every single photo I flick through; I’m there looking as if I’ve just been dragged through a bush and she's sitting there with an angelic smile and beautifully combed hair lapping up all the ‘aww’s’!
She was always a fan of the camera,(right)little poser.

I vaguely remember fighting, I think with us being twin girls we felt as if we were best friends, we thrived off the attention we got when we went out with our mother and father, We both knew people were starring so we tried to look and act as cute as possible .We did fight our brother Ben however (who is 3 years older) at any given opportunity, it would usually take place in the back of the car (not really the safest of places!). The fights would usually consist of 'her' and I giggling and irritating my brother enough to give us each a dead leg each (at the same time- it's quite a skill he mastered). We found it hilarious that we could always wind our brother up, some days we even made it our soul aim. Those were the days when we had nothing else to do but watch cartoons and go on CD-rom games like ‘rugrats’ or ‘pingu’ so we had to find a better source of entertainment ; bullying our big brother.(those were the days when I didn't have a blog to help me procrastinate).

we look pretty alike here, ignore the awful 'do's

I only have two distinct memories of jealousy (pre-teens) the first reason was when my mother would say goodnight to us, she would come into our room and hug both of us, but we would find competition in the tiniest of places.'her' hug may have been a milli-second longer or a bit tighter than mine which resulted in my mother spending up to 15 minutes saying goodnight .Every night, until we were content we had squeezed an equal amount of love out of her.

The second reason was that she would win everything, and I mean everything.Whether it was a CBBC competition or a local drawing competition she would win. I think my mum and dad did try to compensate for my total lack of creativity by making her share her prizes with me. To be honest I wasn’t too dismayed, I was happy because I saw us as a unit, if she won technically I won because I would get something as well. There was also the boy predicament .We couldn’t have a boyfriend during primary school as they would always fancy the other twin an equal amount, so we would both go to our boyfriend’s house and they would come to ours(we thought it was normal to share boyfriends!)

Our parents insisted that we wore different clothes when we were babies. Once we became aware of clothes we didn't want to wear the same things anyway, individuality didn’t even cross our minds throughout primary school, we had the same friends and it didn’t seem to be a problem. When you are a twin you just see each other as friends, sometimes you even forget that you are twins. A great example of this is when we were about 11 we saw a pair of twins walking down the street wearing the exact same thing , exact same hair , everything was identical even down to the tiny detail of hair clip,  this was alien to us and we just thought it was completely peculiar.

She's on the right, again.

I think twins(like everything in life) can swing two ways , they will either try to be completely different in a ditch attempt to find themselves and become individual ,or they will play up to the stereotype of identical twins and wear and act exactly the same. We've gone there, at one point in year 8 (age 13) I tried to completely detach myself from her, I had a new best friend, a new set of friends and altogether and a new image. I was what you would call ‘an emo’ and she was what you would call ‘a chav’ we had different tastes in music and boys, but wern't ourselves .

Eventually over time we merged, both our music taste, taste in men and clothe styles ; which have practically intertwined. Which in a way is handy as we end up having twice as many clothes!

On a serious note though, having a twin is almost like having a 'soul mate' ( if you believe in them). I laid in my bed last night and scared myself .I let the 'what if she died' thought cross my mind and instantly started welling up, I buried the thought and went to sleep. I don't know what I'd do without her, who would I tell, everything (I really mean everything) to?

Schoolwork is one big competition to us, I think that contributes to how well we did at school, because we always strive to beat each other, I think that would be a great way to boost grades, match each pupil with another pupil with equal ability and create competition between them, I’m only kidding. Seriously, we are lucky though, as you hear stories about twins where ones clever and the others not, which coincidentally creates a huge rift. In our case we were practically equal in every subject ,however, I tend to be better at sporty things and she tends to be better at creative things.

University is the next big challenge for us, will we keep in regular contact? Will we thrive off the separation and new found friends?

Monday, 8 November 2010

Briefcase Wa***er!

This is my 17th ever post and I'm 17 so I kind of wanted to sum my life up in 17 concise points (like that's ever going to happen) I waffle so much.

So where to start;

I am a twin.

I enjoy walking,running,swimming and generally being outdoors.

I used to run for the West Midlands.
I've done drama from the age of 9.

I lived in a little village in Yorkshire til I was 6 years old then I moved to Birmingham.

I've completed NVQ Level 3 in BSL (British Sign Language) and have been learning it since I was 11.

I'm commonly referred to as the 'Breifcase Wa**er!'( usually by the minions)

I like a good bargain, you'll often find me mooching around charity shops and car boot sales.

I'm a qualified open water diver (BSAC) and have dived in Europe and Egypt.

I have stupidly short hair and have to wear a suit and look like a right bloke.

I was once a member of the British gymnastics team (Under 10's) pahaha.

I was an extra in The Golden Compass (2003)

I've met Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig (had to do a bit of name dropping didn't I)

I've had two poems published, I love a bit of the tree of Po.

I'm currently learning to drive, after 9 months I feel as if I'm finally getting somewhere.

I want to go to Bournemouth University to read 'Scriptwriting for Tv and Film'.

I want to complete NVQ Level 4 in BSL then train as an Interpreter.


Sunday, 7 November 2010

Dreaming of another world.

This weekend has been pretty decent. With a week of school work driving me up the wall and an intense increase in driving lessons literally driving me up the wall  I needed to do something of worth.But yet again I found myself facing a night in, alone, on a Friday. Dismal to say the least. I can't believe this but I'm actually going to praise Facebook now. A simple status expressing my lack of plans ended up with an invite to a gig.A Mystery Jets to be precise. Although I didn't have a ticket and chances were, I'd have to pay the dodgy ticket men who linger outside of the venues a handsome sum of money to get in, I realised I had no other options as staying in certainly wasn't one.

I've grown unusually pessimistic in my old age (pah!) and just assumed there wouldn't be a ticket for me to scam and had visions of me walking the streets of Birmingham at night (they're dodgy enough in the day). To help things we were 45 minutes late, but I was in luck, supreme luck. The dodgy ticket sellers had one crumpled admission slip left. The tickets were selling for £12:50 online before the gig but dodgy ticket man wanted £30, he looked so surprised when I instantly said yes , I think he even said 'really'. Ha I'm a fool I know.

The gig was really really good, intimate and everyone was strangely polite, one women even said to us ' would you like to go in front of me' , uh .hell .yeah. It was probably the fact the place was full to the brim of older(probably uni students) ultra-stylish , ultra-image conscious people who didn't really want to get too close to strangers in fear of a piece of hair falling out of place.I have never seen so many denim jackets and plaid shirts and I really didn't appreciate the fact that big clompy boots have come into fashion. My toes were numb within minutes as 6ft giant (who we always somehow end up behind!) crushed my toes to peices.

^^ deffo an unexpected highlight.

Although it was a civil gig, compared to the majority I've been to, the typical jumping and pushing was inevitable. One thing money couldn't buy was the lead singer proposing to his girlfriend at the gig and her saying yes.The support band kept crowd surfing aswell, which all in all made it pretty unique.I don't regret paying a ridiculous price for the ticket, that money probably would've just been wasted on Mc.Donald's (which I'm quite partial to throughout the winter months). So yeah that was Friday, very very good night , I love a bit of spontaneity. That is one good thing about Facebook, it's insanely practical.

Last night was a prime example of the disadvantages that Facebook carries on its little evil back. Everyone usually goes to the local grammar school fireworks ( I have for the past 4 years) but last night really showed me how much information Facebook allows you to access. I found myself looking at people who I recognised from Facebook and being able to instantly retrieve information about their last 3 relationships, their school and the last 3 parties they went to. I swear my brain is full with insignificant information about strangers. If only I could revise my A-level notes as well as I can revise hundreds of relationship status'.The thing is, it's subconscious, it gets us when we don't realise.

I don't feel sorry for old people at all. It may seem like a sweeping statement that's completely irrelevant . They lived life without technology taking over every aspect of their lives they probably had a better lives and certainly had better eye sight. I don't know about anyone else but my eyes go all red and blotchy if I've been on my laptop too much. Anyway they knew how to amuse themselves, if they had nothing to play with they'd invent their own games, they bonded better.If anything I'm jealous of old people. Now you put a room of teenagers together and they'll be itching to use their iPods or phones within 5 minutes. Anyway I always end up ranting about technology as if I'm some luddite, the truth is I rely on technology as much as any other teenager so I can't condemn.

If only I was born in the 50's. but then again. I wouldn't be writing this now, and wouldn't have seen the Mystery Jets on Friday.

Friday, 5 November 2010

The kids don't stand a chance.

Aside from being the title of a pretty good song, it's a phrase I've been mulling over these past few days. It's true, with tuition fees reaching a possible £9,000 by next years university entry's there really seems to be no hope for the year below us , and all the other years below them.

We're extremely lucky (everyone who has applied for Uni this year, for entry next year) we've just missed out of the extortionate increase.  £3,000 on tuition fees per year is already enough to whiten the few final grey strands of hair on my fathers head let alone £9,000 that other parents will be facing.

The pressure has never been so great to get into University and the Browne report has only furthered that pressure, with everyone wanting to get into University whilst the prices are relatively low. This means more mature students who have been putting off university will also think about going sooner rather than later. A- levels are hard enough without this added pressure.

I was sitting on the bus just thinking ' what if I completely cock my exams up? what if I don't get into University this year' before it wouldn't be too much of an issue but with an estimated  £18,000 increase in dept ; it is not an option. My course is hardly competitive as well,I don't need to do a degree in my chosen subject to have a career in it. I feel really sorry for those who have decided to totter down the path of medicine or law and are completely degree-dependent for their future careers.

If it came down to it, and I didn't get onto any courses, even through clearing, I'd probably scrap the Uni idea and complete my NVQ Level 4 in BSL whilst working my way up the ranks of some little production company, even if it means making countless cups of tea for a year or two. I'd find a way around it.

Everything I seem to post recently sounds dismal, I'm quite an optimistic person, I swear.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Leaf it out!

I'm a huge fan of Autumn. The fact nature can be so aesthetically pleasing never seizes  to amaze me, I'm a right little tree-hugging hippie at heart. The ruby wafers and orange slices of leaves are not only nice to look at, but are heaven to run through (when no-one's watching). There is nothing more I love then hurling myself at a massive pile of leaves, well that was until this afternoon during my walk home.

After being trapped on the not-so-pleasant bus that is the 51 for a frustrating 55 minutes and after catching a glimpse of a massive pile of crispy, freshly-fallen leaves, I couldn't wait to get off. So I casually ran towards the leaves ( if that's even possible) and started to kick them about. I was in heaven until I kicked something warm, and what appeared to be spiky. That's right. I kicked a poor, defenceless, hibernating hedgehog!

 I was mortified at myself. It's like when you accidentally kick your dog ( it doesn't happen often, I assure you!) how are they meant to know you didn't intend to hurt them? luckily it was a rather gentle kick, and I only managed to disturb its sleep, I was tempted to pick it up and re-submerge it in the leaves, but I don't know the first thing about hedgehogs, let alone how to handle them! Anyway, the disgruntled hedgehog happily wandered back into the crunchy , cosy home it'd made for itself.

If only I could forget about the incident so easily, It really shook me up. That'll be the last time I go wading around in leaves so carelessly. Just to make sure; I don't make a habit of animal abuse!