Scriptwriting,nail biting.

I'm contemplating getting this (picture above) as a tattoo as I'm approaching the age of consent. Yes as scary as it seems in a mere month I will be an official adult. I don't feel ready at all, the cravings are there to go out and buy alchohol and go to 18 films ,but I've realised I'll spend the rest of my life being a legal adult though, it'll probably only be fun for a few weeks.I'll have to change the name of my blog aswell, not quite sure what to.

I cannot wait for the summer  (I'm going travelling around Europe with some friends but I think that deserves a separate post) and I cannot wait for university! Anyway enough of wishing my life away.

To tattoo or not to tattoo, that is the question.

I'm someone who gets bored very easily and despite how much I like the idea and look of tattoos I'll most likely end up hating mine within a month or so. Another thing is the price. I want a tattoo to mean something. I suppose a typewriter means something to me, I want to be a scriptwriter. What if that goes tits up? or even worse I loose my passion to write? what then, I'll have a typewriter on my forearm for life.I suppose it's the little niggling doubts that ultimately decide for you. I think I'll give it a few years, find my feet ,friends and favourite things.

Mind Blowing.

meta from Jurriën Boogert on Vimeo.

I love Being Human.

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the brief blur that was a 1000 years spent on Pluto and up Uranus with the rest of the pluranians it's just this planet feels like home.

Bloody awful attempt at a pun, apologies. If you've ever had the privilege of enduring more than 15 minutes with me, you'll know how often these terrible attempts at being funny crop up, I should just face it ; women aren't funny and never will be.

Anyway , crap jokes aside. BBC3 is back with one of my favourite series 'Being Human'.It's a show that I've actually watched from the word go , I must admit I'm usually a late comer to shows as I normally watch things other people advise me to, basically, I'm a big fat Baaing sheep. I'm not quiet sure whether it's Mitchells (Aidan Turner ) smoulderingly scary sexiness that hooks me and keeps reeling me in or if it's Georges (Russell Tovey) amazingly awkward character who often finds himself in hilarious situations.For example in last nights episode (SPOILER ALERT) he accidentally became a member of a dogging group in the near by forest . It's been described at Casper meets Buffy meets wolfman meets friends but I don't think that gives it half the credit it deserves.Yes the plot revolves around a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost but it's strangely realistic and human (probably the reason for the name as they are anything but 'being human'). My sister and I (both having strong interests in drama and scriptwriting) usually sit through television programmes just picking at the flaws in the acting and the writing but I can honestly say, every actor/actress is the epitamy of their character, no hiccups whatsoever , as of yet. The script is seamlessly written, making for an entertaining yet chilling show. If I'm already enjoying the third series this much, one episode in, I cannot wait for the rest.

It's not too late to catch up, well it never really will be with this infinite supply of 'catch up tv'- THERE IS NO EXCUSE! It's definitely worth a watch.

cause all we need is candle light.

I used to hate baths. When I was younger, they were just annoying things that we had to clamber into three times a week. Once I discovered dirt and the idea of hygiene the sheer thought of wading around in my own filth for an hour or two was enough to put off for almost 10 years.With exams and the vile thing known as 'responsibility' creeping in and contaminating my once care-free life it was time to turn to the tub. Baths are back though, and they are better than ever.

I discovered a way to combat my cringey complex, have a shower first. My baths are no ordinary baths (sounds so much like an M&S advert).I even found a way of making the dullest of baths look decent. Cover them in candles. I love candles.I frequently lace my room with vanilla scented tea lights and if I'm feeling really exotic I sometimes whack some apple scented ones to mix it up a bit.I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm a pyromaniac but it wouldn't surprise me if my death was related to fire in some way.

Summer is shower time, arguably because the last thing you want in the sweltering heat (if only that was a familiar case in this country) is a steamy bath. Winter however, is the prime time for beautiful bathing. I've even gone to the lengths of creating my own 'Bathtime Beauts.' playlist on Spotify, I'd love to be able to say that the reason I love baths and being in my bathroom in general is because I'm completely cut off from technology and its tight hold it has on the world, but I'd be lying. I always sneak my laptop into the bathroom (yes I'm aware of the risks that poses and the fact condensation can seriously cock up your computer) but there is no better way to really enjoy your music, it really is magical.

Another thing that is magical in the winter particularly is the steam. Lifting your lazy limbs out of the water to watch them catch the cold air and stream with steam is just mesmerising, to prevent this turning into one of those dodgy 'adult content' blogs and having to change all my settings I'll leave the steam talk there. All that is left to be said is, happy bathing.

Solitude is Bliss.

Not only is it a great name of a great song by the impeccable Tame Impala ,it is also the truth. Today more than ever I have craved time alone, my own space, my own home. I felt really rough this morning , probably due to sleep deprivation. Since I've stopped sucking my thumb ( about 2 weeks ago) I've been finding it really hard to A; get to sleep and B; stay asleep. I've never been a light sleeper but I guess without my thumb, and my main comfort I'm destined for a life of light slumber.

Anyway this morning I woke at the terrible time of 12pm , having taken the day off school , resulting in me probably missing about two lessons, I felt as if I had to do something productive and be a bit proactive just to avoid feeling like the worlds biggest failure. So I got up, tidied my room, did my coursework, set the dishwasher, set the clothes dryer etc.Even doing this post now is preventing me from feeling like the demotivated lounge lizard I've become. I like the feeling of being able to do things for myself.

I wouldn't say my dad is controlling but he likes things to be done correctly and in his eyes that means that he must do everything. It was weird though, when he came back from tennis, the oven was on (cooking some delectable sausages) and the dryer was spinning pretty loudly , I felt a sense of fear, I was honestly worried that he would find out I had put the dryer and the oven on. Which is completely ridiculous as I'm nearly an adult, but my dad has his way of doing things and I must be scared of disrupting his routine. Being the curious cat that he is, he noticed immediately "who's cooking" and "who's washing" have almost become his catchphrases. I hope one day we'll be able to do things for him, without him rigorously assessing everything we do, he may even let us cook the Christmas dinner one year, if he's feeling really wild, I doubt it though.

I just can't wait to be self sufficient, without having to look over my shoulder every 5 minutes to see whether my dad approves of what I'm doing. I'm saying this now but I guarantee once I go to University, or get my own place I'll be moaning within a week that the workload is too much. I have so many desires to just break free from the mundaity of everyday life. I have visions of myself doing completely uncouth things such as peeling all the labels of the tins in my cupboards just so I don't know what I'm getting every time, I'm sure I'll grow annoyed of going to make beans on toast and ending up with prunes on toast! Seriously though, I feel as if I need a shocking scenery change, some kind of change. I'd love to be able to relocate every month of my life, see what everywhere has to offer, be it a different town or a different country. I think we've all been sucked into societies view of practicality over pleasure I hear the words " it's not practical" far too often. This is just the hippie in me taking over, soon sense will seep in and my dreams will be dulled down by this depressing pace of life we're all to comfortable with.

If all goes to plan I'll be driving by the time I'm 18 (in a few weeks )and University is around the corner, hopefully they will both open a few more doors in which I can wander in and explore.

do talk to strangers.

F**k Ofsted!

What is the point in these 'suprise' inspections when everyone is well informed the day before and teachers hastily make lesson plans the night before them. I think it'd be a much better system if an Ofsted inspector worked undercover as a trainee teacher, yes that involves hours of prep and reams of lies but that's the only way they'd get a true feel for the real school life. Anyway the reason I'm spouting anger like there is no tomorrow is that I had a meeting with an Ofsted inspector today and bore witness to the most astounding arse licking I have ever seen. Fair enough, make the school look good in order for it to stay open and the teachers to have jobs and the general moral to be lifted but don't lie through your teeth. There wasn't even a teacher there to commend these pompous pupils for their efforts, a good half an hour in,I'd heard enough and made a negative point, which resulted in the entire table responding with " that's her personal opinion, no-one else feels this way", ridiculous. How can something ever improve if the problems are never highlighted and resolved?

Anyway, rant over, what it really made me think about was why we do these things, why do we conform? I'm not about to divulge in some  psychology based debate (as much as I'd love to) because it'd bore you to death. The worst thing about conformity and general public life is the silence. The silence in waiting rooms ,buses and the very very worst ; lifts. I visited London over the Xmas period and  it was when I was in a tube lift I realised just how much I hate silence. There we were 15 total strangers crammed into a sardine tin of a lift, not saying a single word, I bet if it had been 2am (after everyone had hit the clubs) there would be an array of converse, but nope there was nothing. I felt like screaming or doing something really unpredictable just to shake it up a bit.

I think the saying "Don't talk to strangers" has become all too literal, nobody seems to talk at all.They'll happily send hundreds of texts a day and 'tweet' on strangers status' but will barely ever   look a stranger in the eye.

 Have we completely lost our faith in the human race? We're all social animals,inquisitive and interested  and yet we allow hundreds of people to pass us by on a daily basis without even regarding them, questioning their motifs, or looking at them.  It's for this reason entirely that I'm going to make a pledge to be more friendly to people  in everyday life, I've gone on for far too long just looking at the ground or listening to my iPod, anything in order to avoid conversation and any form of contact. The funny thing is when someone is friendly, you treat them as if their an alien, for instance I went on a jog a few months ago with a friend and a man ran past us and said "good afternoon", instantaneously my friend and I looked at each other ,pulled a face then continued as if we'd just been approached by an extraterrestrial creature.It really saddens me that it's become the 'norm' to be introverted and isolated.

 I think we've all just become paranoid, who can blame us?The media bombard us with stories of rapists , paedophiles, mad gunmen on the rampage, and the very very worst people of all , women who put cats in bins. No wonder we've lost our faith in the kindness of strangers, we're terrified of strangers.

such sucking stupidity.

I'm not one to usually make New Years resolutions, I've seen far too many people make them then break them within a day. This year feels different though, I really am ready to tackle my worst habit (well at least I hope my worse!) sucking my thumb.

Okay so I haven't gone to such extreme lengths as that ^ but I am considering putting a plaster on my thumb, nothing tastes worse than a big fabric plaster.


Ever since my fifth birthday I can vividly remember saying to my 'Nanna' " when I'm six I will stop sucking my thumb because then I'll be a big girl" thirteen birthdays later, and look where I've come, absolutely nowhere. Actually I tell a lie, my sister and I both made a pledge to quit together about 4 years ago because the dentist was getting increasingly annoyed at our ever growing over bites, so we did it, it was surprisingly easy. I sound like a drug addict but I was 'clean' for about a year, that was until my sister and I were sat watching TV and she dared me to put my thumb in my mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid me. Ever since that moment it's been glued to my gums again and now it feels almost impossible to stop. My sister remained clean and her teeth showed the improvements.One thumb is literally bigger than the other, all that constant sucking must've literally drained the fat of it. Now I'm the wonky smiled, big baby , freak show of a twin.

It sounds ridiculous doesn't it, being addicted to sucking a phalanges. That's what it is though, an addiction, not a nervous trait like biting your finger nails but an actual addiction that I crave. Admittedly it's not half a serious as smoking and the biological factors of nicotine addiction. After watching my brother take a drag of his cigarette after a two hour car journey I saw the relief in his face, posture, position everything and it truly reminded me of how I am after a driving lesson, going almost two hours without the comfort of my stumpy digit really gives me the jitters (or maybe it's just my near death experiences during the driving lessons) who knows.

Anyway I was 3 hours into the New Year and BAM it's snuck it's way into my oral cavity, sneaky stumpy thing. I don't even realise I'm doing it half the time, It takes someone to point it out ( usually with the typical 'awww') for me to realise and adjust ,I'm eighteen in a few months for Christ sakes, I've had enough 'awww's to last me a lifetime.

That's my main point, what better way to wave bye bye to my childhood than waving bye bye to my thumb (if that is even possible?)So lets see how long it last. I've tried and failed so many times.

Tv triumphs of two thousand and ten.

Howard Overmans' 'Misfits'.(E4)
Stupidly sci-fi yet really realistic. It just keeps getting better and better as the second series concluded, absolutley flawless.Rumours say the 'Asbo five' will be back for a third series next Autumn. If you are yet to be totally transformed by the show, catch up in time for the new series.

Kay Mellors' 'A Passionate Woman'.(BBC)
Based on a true story of the trials and tribulations of Kay Mellors mother and her affair and the significant impact it's had on her mature life ,this drama was completely mesmerising as was the lead male character Craze (played by Theo James).

Jimmy Mcgoverns' 'Accused'.  (BBC)
After adoring Jimmy's drama 'The street' for a while I thought it would be impossible to create something as nearly as enthralling but 'Accused' blew it out of the water. Each episode of the 6 part series was independent which made for a unique  fresh feel every week. Truly sublime.

Mick Fords' 'Single Father'. (ITV)
Being a huge fan of David Tennant but not such a great fan of his latest  feats (Doctor Who) I was really exciting about seeing him in a serious role. He did not disappoint. For the first time I bawled over the first episode of the 4 part drama. Mick Fords writing was great but the real beauty came from the improvised dialogue of the children featured, really magical moments.

Rob Brydon and Steve Coogans' 'The Trip' (BBC)
I hadn't really been interested in Steve Coogan or Rob Brydon up until this point, I suppose I never really gave them a chance to impress me. Being a natural human and a natural sheep it took a couple of friends to mention the series and within hours I found myself on iplayer wanting to get in on all the goss. It made me cry, really, seriously cry with laughter. I guarantee everyone would find their improvised banter entertaining.

Nigel Slaters 'Toast' (BBC1)
This one pulled it out of the bag one day before the New Year. Really captivating stuff, makes me wish I was born in the 60s just so I could wear those knitted jumpers all the time and appear normal. It was heart wrenchingly sad yet whole heartedly humorous.If you missed it, I highly recommend you watching it on iplayer or catching it on ; Tue 4 Jan 2011 ,22:30, BBC HD.