Sort-Of an Apology. More Clarification, Really

Hey guys! So I realised that my most recent post didn't really make any sense to anyone who wasn't actually with me at the NUA the other weekend, so this post is going to try and clarify some things.

NUA stands for Northern University Association. The bit that doesn't say is "Of Change Ringers" or something similar. The NUA is an annual Bell Ringing event for students and those who wish they were still students. I attended with NUSCR, the Nottingham University/ies Society of Change Ringers. Whilst our membership is actually pretty big, four of us went on this particular trip; that was two Chrises, Esther and myself. We all got called Chris for the weekend to make it easier for people to remember.

The reason I didn't explain any of this in my original post is that the report was adapted from the original (shorter and more boring) report which I wrote for the NUSCR website (found here) and I totally forgot that people other than the aforementioned Chrises and Esther (and Emily) read this blog.

I've been ringing at All Saint's with the university society for about nine weeks now, and I handle the bell properly, most of the time. I'm beginning to get the hang of timing and can sort-of-a-little-bit keep time in rounds (that thing where the bells go ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding in descending order), but only if I'm being severely helped and/or catered to by the other ringers. Fortunately, everyone at NUSCR is really patient and helpful, especially Matthew, Simon, Tom, Chris and Chris, who've been teaching me, and Emma, who acts as my personal demonstrator (perks of being married to the Steeple Keeper, I guess). Everyone else is also excellent, but they've only really had to tolerate my terrible ringing, not my terrible learning.

Basically, NUSCR are some of the nicest people I've ever met, You wouldn't guess from just seeing us at the pub, because we spend the entire time trying to wind each other up, but part of that makes us closer, because we know none of it is really serious. Probably. I hope not.

I'm never serious anyway, but that's just me.

Full and Brutally Honest Review of the NUA 2014

When I left home on Friday, my housemate said, “Have a good time. And I hope that things don’t get too bad when you inevitably end up in A and E.” Fortunately, NUSCR’s trip to NUA 2014 stopped just short of a trip to the hospital…

After several hours of train travel, highly scorched burgers and some overpriced pints, Tall Chris, Short Chris, Esther Chris and myself (Chris) followed a couple of total strangers for half an hour, arriving at a church hall; picked for the weekend’s accommodation for the sole reason of being totally inappropriate. Having been reunited with some old friends, and immediately capturing some new ones, NUSCR asked the fundamental question: “Where’s the booze?”, embarking on what turned into an hour-long beer quest which showed us just how far from any form of civilisation we were. Fortunately, New Friend Hannah took this welcome opportunity to reveal her hidden superpower to locate Co-Ops. (Unfortunately, said “convenience” store had just shut. Points for trying, though!) Friday night was otherwise quite a standard affair, involving much drinking, chatting, and Plain Hunt on Beer before falling asleep on a floor which may have been even less comfortable than anything I have ever slept on before, including Ross.

Saturday started early, with an English breakfast and copious amounts of throat-meltingly strong tea. We arrived at our first tower in St Nicholas in Kenilworth (after what seemed like a year on the bus) where, after a short wait, we successfully rang some rounds. Our next stop was at All Saints in "the Bell Ringing capital of Europe" (don't ask me, ask Helen!) Leamington Spa. After yet another bus ride, we finally arrived in Warwick itself and rang briefly at St Mary's, before embarking on yet another epic bus ride, to Stratford-upon-Avon, where we met Lucy and IPM Dan in (where else?) a pub, before "we" (Chris and our new friends from BUSCR) rang at Holy Trinity Church, described as the best tower of Saturday. The rest of stayed at the pub, and so missed out on that one, what a shame! The final tower of the day was Lillington (where I actually did some ringing!!!) and another tedious bus journey brought us back to base just about, but not quite, in time for dinner. 

And a ceilidh. 

Why didn't I heed the ceilidh warnings? 

We (including Becks and Phill, who deigned us with their presence just after dinner) spent the evening flinging each other around the room as hard and as fast as we could. I swear, I have never had so much fun being disregarded by multiple men. The funniest bit for the spectators was probably Short Chris throwing Becks to the ground and then stomping on her hair, which he maintains was an accident. Yeah, right. As for the dancing, whilst I thoroughly enjoyed Baskets and Strip the Willow (look it up, kids), I actually much preferred the dances where my feet were primarily on the ground; bouncing around the hall on the arm of one Chris or another was enough for me, thank you! This merriment finished at around eleven, having started relatively soon after dinner, giving us many an hour of merriment. Naturally, after this, everyone just stayed up chatting for as long as we could hold our own drinks and ended up in bed shortly before sunrise on Sunday.

Sunday morning was a little more relaxed, as the first church of the day was very nearby at All Saints in Allesley, where a nice man with the key to the bell tower recommended that we try a small local tower with a 300-weight six, which was not on our route. So, naturally, we went off-tour to check it out. Right decision. This tower was described by several people as the best of the weekend, missed by everyone except NUSCR and SUGCR. Personally, I was in no position to comment, having only rung three towers that weekend, and only one other tower ever. How do you even decide what a nice tower is? Unless, like Short Chris at St Nicholas, you have real trouble keeping it up. Most of NUSCR somehow managed to miss the next tower in Stoke, when Phill accidentally drove into Debenham's*, and turned up to the pub early enough for a second breakfast. After a very close call involving a BUSCR member who had to have her legs over her head for quite a while (and not in a good way) in the pub at lunchtime we finally turned up at Coventry Cathedral Tower to ring the final bells of the tour. The Coventry experience also included the opportunity to watch the bells from above, as well as a tour of the amazing bombed-out ruins of the old cathedral, opportunities taken up by many.

NUSCR’s tour ended with five consecutive train journeys to different places, all aiming to get us home to showers (not necessarily our own) and bed. Having essentially been tricked into coming on the NUA, I'm incredibly glad that I was; it has been one of the best experiences of my life, with some of the nicest people I have ever met (and Chris). Having joined Bell Ringing Society on a whim, I have come to the conclusion that it's quite possibly one of the best decisions I have ever made, even if more time is spent at the pub than in the tower(!)

*Phill's driving was not (as Short Chris expected) sufficiently bad enough that we actually ended up parked in the lingerie department of Debenham's, more that we turned into an accidental multi-storey and were too lazy to drive out again.

Who's A Good Girl?

Hello, and welcome back to the scribblings of my inner brain. Sorry about the long interim again, real life keeps getting in the way of my opinion.
Don't you hate when that happens?

My ponderings today have all been along the lines of what it means to be good. Not in the massively deep way that leads to an argument with Mackers and a degree in philosophy, but in the simple way that most of us aim to fulfil from time to time. Looking at things from a Christian perspective, there are certain things that people of my religion are encouraged to do. Similarly, there are aspects of life that society tries to instigate as "good", although whether this is the case or not is a debate for another time.

You could never say that I am a perfect Christian. I have never scorned a gay man, I often eat bacon and other forms of pork, I wear mixed fibre clothing and sometimes (on a more serious note) I forget to pray, or put other things before church attendance. But does that make me a fundamentally bad Christian, or even a bad person?

I would say no.

I still try to live by the main principles of my faith; I love my neighbour as myself, I try to put other people's concerns before my own, more often than not I respect my parents, and I have never coveted anyone's oxen.
OK, I know the last one is a little ridiculous, but my point still stands.

Trying to be a good person is not difficult. It doesn't mean you have to do everything right all the time, nobody can do that. For me, it just means that sometimes you have to think about what is best for others first, and whether you would be happy receiving the treatment you're dishing out. You don't have to be religious to be good either; in the same way that claiming a faith doesn't automatically make you a pillar of society. It really is as simple as offering to put together the PowerPoint for a class project. Or asking your friends if they want anything when you go to the shops. Nobody is asking you to move the moon for them.

Just remember that: "A Brownie Guide puts others before herself and does a good turn every day". And if a seven-year-old girl can do that, why can't I?

What Is Wrong With The World?

... On the thirteenth anniversary of 9/11, possibly the most high-profile terrorist attack of all time, and the day that Obama has "vowed air strikes to destroy the Islamic state", I think the better question is, in fact, what is right with the world?

Sometimes humans make me sick.

Sorry It's Been So Long

Hey guys, sorry it's been such a long time since my last post, I've had exams and goodness knows what else.
If anyone out there in Internetland is still reading this, here is a quick rundown of the last few months:

- Exams. I had four, I think. They were so long ago I've forgotten. For these, I had some short questions (what the history students call) "gobbets";  reciting chunks of information on automatic recall, some grammar questions and several essays and overall I was happy with the way they went.
- End of term preparations and celebrations, including the URN Boat Party, as well as various other bits. Possibly my favourite part of the last few months, as this included visits from my Grandad and his friend Jean, and Matt, the aforementioned Boat Party and several meals out and meeting ups with various people.
- Results. Happily, I passed my first year at uni with a good enough average for me not to be disappointed in myself. Thankfully, this means I'll be back in September in fabulous Nottingham!
- New House. We moved into our new student digs for next year at the beginning of July. As expected, some work needs to be done to make it home, but a trip to Lidl went some way to improving things...
- Phatpocket. Once again I return to work under the "watchful" (absent) eye of Scott, and am merrily reunited with my friends and colleagues, including the elusive Dannii, who returns for another summer. And Matt, of course. He's there too.

So my main pondering for this post, given the changes that have occurred since the last one, and the fact that I'm sitting in the departure lounge of Heathrow, is travel. It's strange how we often describe life as a journey, but so many of us spend the majority of it in one place. Whilst it is not the most ecologically friendly thing to do, I fully believe that people become fuller and more well rounded individuals through travelling and experiencing different cultures and societies. It really does change your perspective of things, even if only in a small way.

However, now that I'm going through what I'm sure I will consider one of the greatest transitions periods of my life (when I look back in years to come), I'm beginning to realise what people mean by "the journey of life". You may well spend your time on this planet all in one place, but that doesn't mean you don't travel incredibly far from what you have been.

Especially in a time when, as a young adult (and I don't mean that in the patronising way parents and teachers always use it, I mean it in its most literal sense) things such as bill paying and part-time employment have entered my sphere of consciousness. It's easy to forget that things some people take for granted, such as setting up utilities accounts, travelling by means other than one's own feet or parent taxi, and deciding whether or not our house actually needs a TV licence under the current confusing guidelines, especially if you're old enough to have been doing those things for ten, twenty, or even thirty years. When you step onto that path, it really is a new and confusing world, and probably one of the biggest ways in which we travel as we mature in the "journey" of life.

Thanks for listening to my semi-philosophical, semi-confused-and-talking-to-myself ramble. Hopefully it won't be as long until the next post. I wonder if anyone is still reading this anyway?

Do Dogs Know They're Dogs?

No, seriously. Do they?

Why Does Everything Have A Double Meaning Nowadays?

Ok, so you'll have to bear with me for this post; it's meant entirely innocently and not at all in the way most people between the (mental) ages of twelve and twenty will take it. It's something I've been pondering for a while and I will try my best, as ever, to translate the slightly addled thoughts of my brain into a coherent pile for you to pick through at your leisure.

Actually, that's a great tagline....

Right, back to task in hand. And hands, interestingly, are what this post is all about. Sort of. Let me see if I can explain this to you without putting my proverbial foot into my equally proverbial mouth.

Think about all the people you meet and interact with from day to day. For the purpose of this, I'm not talking about strangers you see on the train or people you pass in the street; I'm talking specifically about those who frequently have an impact on, and a specific role in, your life. Just think about them for a second.
Think about the people who are your "inner circle"; you probably see them every day and chat with them, or even talk about the more serious things in life, such as the future, or what's for dinner.
Think about the people you see fairly often, but with whom you don't quite share the same bond as those close friends and family; the work colleagues, the estranged housemate, the neighbour...

Now here's the bit where I'm going to be (deliberately or not) misunderstood.

Think about how many of these people you've never had any physical contact with. Just let that sink in for a minute, because I'm assuming you will be surprised at this. Think about how many of the people who play significant roles in your life you've never physically touched. Obviously I don't necessarily mean "touched" in the way in which it becomes heavily implicit of a much different relationship, I just mean think about how few people you've ever shaken hands with, or patted on the back, or even high-fived, who you would otherwise consider important, or at least significant, people in your life.

Even as a very tactile person (when appropriate) I was shocked to think about how many people who I would consider good friends with whom I have never been in physical contact. I know this is a strange thought, but there are people who I see almost daily but who I have never had the need to touch for any reason, and this is strange. It's like finding there's a whole experience that you haven't shared. Which is essentially what it is, in a weird way.

Anyway, yeah. That's my thought for today. As always, you can comment on this and tell me what you think (not that people do that very often), or tweet me (on Tweeter) @EmPernilla (not that people do that very often either). Sorry for the generic post ending, but there isn't any massive conclusion to this thought; it's just something I've been pondering for a while. Thanks for reading, much love xx

The First Baloo

Hi again guys, you must feel truly blessed to be inundated with so many updates... My pondering this week looks at how great it is to be compared to a beloved childhood character.

One of the perks of being a Cub Leader has been choosing my own name, although it's not been made as public as it eventually will be. For those of you who don't know, the tradition for Cub leaders is for them to take the name of a character from the Jungle Book. There is a long history behind this, but basically it stems from the friendship between Rudyard Kipling (the author of the Jungle Book) and Lord Baden Powell (founder of Scouts.) The idea behind leaders having names is, I think, to create the distance between the leaders and the children which would be suitable in such a situation. This is a similar way of doing things to how teachers are only known by "Mr" or "Mrs" at school, except less formal.

As I think I said on this blog about two years ago, I decided upon Baloo. This is almost entirely because he's good at singing, and is loveable in the Disney film of The Jungle Book. However, when I started my Assistant Leader training about this time last year, I decided that I should read the Jungle Book (as in, the actual book), in order to properly educate myself as to what it was really all about. I'm assuming that most of you haven't actually read the Jungle Book; it's really weird. It's split into shorter stories - some are about Mowgli and his adventures in the jungle, there's one about a mongoose called Rikki Tikki Tavi, and one about a seal called Sea Catch (I think - there's lots of seals.) For a children's book, I wouldn't really recommend it for children, to be honest.

I'm just glad they don't call me Rikki Tikki Tavi.

Having read the book now, I do agree that I made the right choice with Baloo. He's not as fun-loving and easygoing as he is in the Disney film, and I like that. I like that there's two sides of the character which work together or separately. It makes it seem more real, more... Like me. Maybe.

The first time one of my Cubs called me Baloo was at camp the other weekend. It was one of the best feelings I've ever had. Like, for once, I was more than just another person; I had a specific role in this child's life and it made me feel important. It made me feel grown up.

I guess that must be what being a parent feels like.

Why Is There So Much Good Music?

Hey folks, here's another procrastinatory ponderance for you!

Why is it that there's so much excellent music out there? I'm currently listening to Roger Daltrey singing "Giving It All Away" - listen to it if you get the chance, it's beautiful - and I've started pondering how there can be so much powerful and moving music in existence. Whilst revising today I've had the four and five star music on my iTunes playing and there's such a variety of music here that it makes me wonder how such amazing music can cover so many genres and styles.

I know my music isn't all going to be everyone's cup of tea, but I've got all sorts of stuff playing today; heavy rock, soft rock, glam rock, Alice Cooper (whatever he counts as - mildly sadistic hard rock?), ballads, soul, reggae, pop and electric, acapella, ska... and something my Dad has listed as "Woody's Chinese Takeaway" (I don't want to know - although it refers to Hong Kong Swing by Cruella DeVille, which is a great song). The list is (at least, it might as well be) endless. And the Wurzels hasn't even played yet! The point is, Wurzels aside, there is such great music out there in every genre that people can enjoy. That's what I love about music, it's just so remarkable, regardless of where its inspiration lies, or anything like that.

Which is why I can never have a show on URN.
Annoyingly, this is true. Because the music I love comes from all sorts of genres, era, backgrounds etc.  I can't therefore have an After Dark (specialist music) show; I don't have a specialism, my music is just stuff I like. I couldn't have a Daytime show because of the reliance upon and the requirement of the Playlist. For those of you who don't know, a certain number of songs in each show on URN are required to be from a preset playlist of recent song I've almost never heard of. If I were to do a radio show, I'd want to play endless awesome music which I could really enthuse about, rather than a combination which included some songs I had no idea about. That's not to say I don't want to include modern music in what I listen to, but if I don't know what it is, I can't be excited to play it.

Anyway, mildly pessimistic rant over; I'll leave you all now.

Emmatt Update: I realise there's not been one of these for a while, and for some reason people still care, so here we are. Matt and I were working together at Phatpocket again over Easter, if only for a week. We didn't see as much of each other as we'd have liked during the rest of my holiday back home (what an odd concept) because Matt had exams and I was still working for quite a lot of it. However, we're still going strong, having seen each other last Sunday when I was back home on a Cub Camp - the things I do, eh? - and there is a plan for him to come and visit me here after my exams finish on 4th June, although the exact date is uncertain at the moment.

If It's Twenty Four Hour Silence...

So Ancaster Hall is meant to have a twenty four hour silence policy, to allow students to study for their impending exams. However, although I am aware that I would be in serious trouble if I did so much as turn my music up louder than absolutely necessary, or watched TV online without headphones, I am also aware that there are several things stopping the silence. So my ponderance today is:
If Ancaster Hall is meant to be silent twenty four hours a day, then why...:

• ... Do large, very loud lorries drive past my room periodically between the times of 06:00 and at least 15:30?
• ... Is the idiot in the room below me allowed to play his ridiculously loud dubstep/club music so that I can hear it through my floor, when I can't even have my radio loud enough to be able to hear it in my own bathroom?
• ... Have the girls upstairs been throwing things out of their window for no apparent reason and then spending half an hour yelling at each other from the ground to the second floor trying to get it out of the spiky bushes that they know are incredibly spiky (designed to prevent intruders)?
• ... Have the aforementioned girls got very cross with me when I shouted out the window telling them to be quiet as it's meant to be silent?
• ... Are the boys outside allowed to stand almost directly outside my room and play (very loud) football? 
• ..., if all the above are true, am I not allowed to watch a film with my friends?

The Small Horse Identity Crisis Question

Hello there folks! Many of you will be aware that I have recently been pondering the following question:

Does a small horse ever have an identity crisis and wonder if it's actually a pony?

Or, on the other hand:

Do large ponies ever have identity crises and think they're really just very short horses? (In which case, do they get angry?)

However, the darling Amanda informs me that the only difference between a pony and a horse is the size*, apparently above the size 13 3 (I think this is in hands, but I'm not sure, she wasn't very explanatory) makes the animal a horse. So now my question has changed slightly:

Would a horse which was borderline pony-size consider itself a very tall pony? And if so, would it then bully smaller ponies and try and reign over them like some sort of King Pony? After that, would it eventually move on to try and take control of groups of larger horses in a sort-of Napoleonic way? And can we really survive another Napoleon-esque emperor? Especially one that's actually a horse and might not be sympathetic to human customs, or might even take out revenge for all its ancestors and their mistreatment by humankind? 

Oh the humanity!

Can you imagine how horrible it would be for that small horse/tall pony though? He'd never feel like he belonged anywhere; he'd be too tall to be friends with the real ponies, but he would be laughed at by the taller horses for him diminutive stature. How cruel would that be?

To be honest, there's a bit of a philosophical query here: should you want to be the best in your social group, or should you want to be the least educated and qualified in the hope of bettering yourself by being surrounded by those greater than you? I prefer the latter; a quote I try to live by is "If you're the cleverest person in the room, you're in the wrong room" - this is sometimes too difficult to judge, as lots of people are clever in different ways, but if you know more than everyone else in the room, you should probably try to move in greater circles. Unless you're a teacher, in which case you should be the cleverest person in that room. But even then, that's not every room.

*(This makes me wonder if you could actually have a Shetland horse. Because I really want one now.)

A "Short" Feminist Rant

*This post doesn't contain explicit content, as such, but it is probably not suitable for younger readers (let's rate it 12A)

. It covers some sensitive topics, so if you're easily offended then you may prefer not to read. 

I have said nothing offensive, but just in case...*

OK, So Helen put up this link to a BBC programme about sexism. (Check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0436qlw/blurred-lines-the-new-battle-of-the-sexes - I'm not sure for how long it'll be on the website, but have a look if you can. As a result, I haven't got as angry as Helen has, but I am pondering the limits of feminism and sexism.

One man on the show (a comedian whose name I've forgotten) claimed that if one group in society is closed off from comedy, they are closed off from society. That is, in my opinion, entirely true, however, I have never heard anybody make jokes about raping or sexually abusing men in the same way that many comedians have started to do with regards to women. There has to be one standard for both parties; for me, it has to stop before rape jokes are even considered. I don't have a problem with light-hearted sexism (obviously I would appreciate it much more if it wasn't apparent at all, but for now I will tolerate it), but there has to be a line.

Talking of which, I return to my favourite subject: Robin Thicke and his hideously degrading song "Blurred Lines", which I wrote a little about on this blog six months ago. I think that level of abuse aimed at anybody, male, female, black, white, ginger, old, young, big, small, kitten, polar bear etc., is entirely unacceptable. If a woman, for example Jessie J, had written and performed a song about physically and sexually abusing men and date raping attractive guys on nights out, set to a background of almost entirely naked men dancing suggestively and succumbing to her every will, whilst she walks domineeringly between them wearing a "power suit" (that's a power suit, not a Power Ranger suit), then the entire music industry would be in uproar, closely followed by the internet. However, because Robin Thicke is a man singing about abusing and committing crimes against women it's acceptable, and anyone who makes a fuss on the internet or elsewhere is immediately a "feminazi" (I hate that word.)

It's not only the treatment of women that annoys me, as you can see, but also the double standard. If I were to walk down to dinner now and say something along the lines of "I just got off with a guy in the car park. He didn't really want to at first, but after a while he was too preoccupied to complain much" I would be met with absolute bedlam. Obviously, I would be lying; I've been sitting here writing this, and talking to friends online, but the point still stands. People would be angry, and rightly so, there would be all sorts of reports about me and I'd probably be facing a disciplinary action based on my behaviour.*
I have a feeling that if a lot of men/boys my age were to say that (and their language would more than likely be much more explicit) they would be met by rowdy cheers from their friends and heart congratulations. I also have a horrible feeling that it wouldn't matter to many of them whether the boy/man/guy/dude saying that was telling the truth or not, he would just seem like a bit of a Jack-The-Lad for a few hours, and nobody would report anything to anyone, even if they suspected it to be true.*

Finally, for now, there has been a discussion on this show based around the abuse that women on the TV get over social media sites such as Twitter and Facebook. A lot of which is entirely irrelevant to their work in/on television and is purely speculation about their sexual prowess or attractiveness. Several of these were threats of rape and/or violence on many levels up to, and including, murder. Regardless of which gender you are, that is illegal and should be treated as such. This belief that people can get away with it if it's on the internet is not true; you're still threatening somebody's life. That's a violation of their Human Rights (http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/index.shtml#a1 - Acts 2, 3 and 12, if you don't believe me) and should be treated as such. That's not feminism, that's common sense and the protection of the law.

And that's all I have to say at the moment. It's not a case of women getting special treatment; feminism is entirely about equality in the good stuff and the bad stuff. It doesn't mean chivalry, or women being better than men. It means everyone should be held to the same standards and offered the same respect by every member of society. Perhaps if we renamed it "equalism" then people would get the message.




* I feel for my own sake I should say that I am not condoning rape, or abuse of other people, in any way. Nobody should be allowed to physically assault anyone else and that is one of the key points for a peaceful society. The above scenarios are merely an (only slightly) exaggerated example to prove a point.

So, Books And That...

Well, I know it's been a while, but... Alright, alright calm down. I know it's been a long time. Just, just leave it OK?

ANYWAY... I don't really have a lot to say about anything today. I'm back at Phatpocket for a few weeks over Easter (hence the title). Man, I thought I liked books. After today I never want to see another book again, especially it it says "All England Law Report" on the spine. Or anywhere else for that matter.
But I have realised that I definitely want several plastic cratey-pallatey-things, NOT full of books, to use as various shelters and hidey holes and maybe a treehouse.

I'd love to have a treehouse.

So, whilst the rest of the world has been busy revising. I've been lifting and carrying books to and fro. Hardly educational or what-have-you, but certainly entertaining at times; and it;'s earning me some money, so I can't complain too much!

And the company isn't too bad; it's mostly the same people that were here last time, except Ollie - he's new. And Paul - he joined when I was there; he's basically been hired to do the job that Scott should do, but passes onto Chloe and Anya.

SO yeah, work is the same as ever; just with fustier books. But at least I'm blog writing again :)

CONGRATULATIONS II !!!!!!!!

So, I'm back with the rest of that list, starting with 2013 and bringing us up to date :)
Here we go:

• The entire of this - 3rd January 2013
• I'd like to apologise for the accidental pun on the title of my previous blog post. It was not meant to be in any way funny and (to be honest) it isn't. - 7th February 2013
• when the revolution finally comes, I'll be close behind Miss MacNeill in the line for the Tory Fox Hunt. - 17th April 2013
•  it means that we should've all been relearning what we've already learnt before we've even learnt it since about February, because otherwise WE WILL ALL FAIL AND NOBODY WILL EVER LOVE US EVER AGAIN!!!!! - 2nd May 2013
• Or maybe none of this is really a possibility and I'm just panicking because at my school we're all expected to be able to recite Pi to several thousand digits by the end of year seven. - 2nd May 2013
• "Jumbo Jumble" sounds like a kids' game, in which you have to untangle elephants - 4th May 2013
• Maybe that's why I like Radio 4 all of a sudden... - 17th June 2013
• *The Pink Hair Brigade is in no way affiliated with or similar to the Tolmers Pink Triangle, or any other Pink Triangle for that matter. - 17th June 2013
• Any other band that I'm ever in, no matter how mind-numbingly boring and tedious, will never quite be as fun without being fun, if you know what I mean. Which you probably don't. - 10th July 2013
• Hello, today I have been painting a shed - 14th July 2013
•  I stumbled across half a documentary (well, a documentary which was halfway through when I found it) about Meat Loaf. The singer, not the food - how sad do you think I am? - 11th August 2013
• Frogs apart, Margaret is the funniest thing to have happened in my time working at PhatPocket. - 29th August 2013
• the other benefits of this new job are excellent, but more about them another time... ;) - 29th August 2013
• There's Graham, who works for "the agency" (dun dun duuuun) - 9th September 2013
• My bedroom is orange. Very orange. Special orange. It's so orange that it's like living inside an orange. Or Ginger Chris, one of the two. - 22nd September 2013
• my towels are coral, although I don't think I'll ever understand why that is the case. - 22nd September 2013
• it's by a group of girls called Law Revue, who appear to be highly feminist to the extreme. And American. But that is irrelevant. - 30th September 2013
• So I have come up with a solution. Many of you will think it childish, but to you I say "Ner ner ner ner ner!!!" - 3rd October 2013
• I am still waiting for him to realise just quite how crazy I am, but (mercifully) that time has not yet come. - 14th November 2013
• like a parent who has missed their child's school play, I am now going to ravish you with extra attention and new and more interesting posts to make up for it - 24th January 2014
• Please ignore these people. They're just actors posing as my friends. - 24th January 2014
• I have a lot of friends who bat for the Owen's team, who like to exfoliate and whose favourite film is Moulin Rouge. Is this getting the point across at all? Basically, I've been nicknamed the Fairy Gaymother - 1st February 2014

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

Hello team and may I say Well Done! This is the 100th post in this fabulous blog called "Stuff I Ponder". I feel very proud to have made it to this point, especially considering that I've done so in less than two years which means that, on average, I have somehow posted more than twice every week.

Given the enormous gaps I've had between some of these posts, I think that's pretty impressive. Plus, it means I must have an awful lot to say for myself :S

So, there's not really a lot I have to say on this post, I'm not pondering anything in particular, certainly. I guess it was just Happy Birthday. Maybe I'll put up some random quotes from the best of "Stuff". Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. So here we go. I'll put 2012 on this post and 213 and 2014 on the next post (post no. 101):

• you can just erect (laugh if you must) a "bitchin' yurt" - 1st April 2012
•  "Excuse me sir! In the Onesie! You look Excellent!" and my friend Adele yelling "Like a sexy baby grow!!" - 18th April 2012
• I have discovered the Tabernacle. It is like the mother of all tents; bigger than a yurt and without the yaks. - 18th April 2012
• (especially when I shouted "You sir, you look like a man who likes a cuddle!" at an Emo) - 18th April 2012
• Shove a Crout inside him (confusingly) (Emily) - 30th April 2012
• Hollow him out and use him as a canoe (Liz) - 30th April 2012
• My ponderances since I last write have been minimal, although my working-ness has been much - 17th June 2012
• I really am very, very sad. I thought to myself, as I cleaned my saxophone, wearing a shirt with a colourful message about Jesus after finishing playing music nobody had listened to and thinking about Scouts. Yes, I am about six walking stereotypes. - 17th June 2012
•  So basically, I have decided that I really don't want to be a Cub Leader! - 27th June 2012
• Team Saxophone, for those of you who don't know, is a group of seven "epic" people, who all play the saxophone in Concert Band (probably as a punishment for something bad they did in a former life...) - 17th July 2012
• Peter Hurrell should not, NOT be allowed to wear a mankini. Ever. - 27th July 2012
• Eventually, somewhere in the midst of the eighties, Jeff Lynne got bored and left, after writing a song about it (as you do). - 2nd August 2012
• Gabi and Markus, our German friends (from Germany, because they're just totally awesome like that) - 19th September 2012
• The only reason we should care if Kate gets pregnant is if the baby ends up ginger. And they should totally call it Emma if it's a girl. Just saying. - 21st September 2012
•  Like every other musical activity I do, this is the highlight of my week. - 6th November 2012
• Welcome back, Internet Dwellers, to my cave of mystery. My name is Plato (not really) and I have many wonderful things to discuss with you. Or not. At all. - 11th November 2012
• If you do it wrong, you die. Then you're dead. Forever. - 11th November 2012

Daffodils (sort of)

Hello again reader(s)!! I know, is it even possible that I've done more than two updates since re-beginning to write my blog (again)? And yes indeed, it is!!! This post is about probably one of the best decisions I've made during my time at university, excluding the choice I made to be friends with the lovely people I am friends with. I've bought some narcissus. They were sold to me as daffodils, but I'm not silly; they're narcissus. The currently sit in the pot I bought them in at the corner of my desk, although I'm hoping to get a bigger pot and an actual drip tray (rather than a cereal bowl.) So, I've been pondering them, basically.

Firstly, I've been surprised at how quickly the little flowers have grown. I bought them last week, probably on Wednesday, I think, and several of them have already flowered, with many more probably flowering in the next few days. The first one flowered on this Thursday and I actually watched it open throughout the day. Now five are properly open and one is opening today. Let me show you:

Thursday evening

Thursday lunchtime

Thursday afternoon

Saturday afternoon

Friday morning

Friday evening

 So you see how quick the development of these pictures has occurred... Even as I'm writing this, another bud has started to bloom! I'm now on six!

My other ponderance is how much better they make my room. Apart from a dodgy smell from the soil-y stuff when I water the base, which is easily ignored, they are very attractive and definitely make the room a little happier. At the same time, I think having them around in the room also makes it feel more like home. It's something I can look after and it adds another element of life to the room.

Finally, I feel I should explain the caption on the fifth picture. Since I arrived at university I have come to the realisation that a lot of my friends... How can I put this so that it encompasses everything?... I have a lot of friends who bat for the Owen's team, who like to exfoliate and whose favourite film is Moulin Rouge. Is this getting the point across at all? Basically, I've been nicknamed the Fairy Gaymother because I appear to attract a certain type of person as my friend. Apparently I also have this effect on flowers...

House Hunting

It's now come to that time in my life where I've had to start (and indeed conclude) a hunt for my first privately-rented property (how scary!) So, this led to me pondering the housing market and, well, just everything really.

For anyone who's interested, I am sharing as part of a group of five girls who will all be living in a two-storey house in Beeston; near the university. The property has five bedrooms, three bathroom-esque rooms (only one actually has a bath in it, the others have showers), one lounge, one dining room, one kitchen, a scrubby garden with a "bald patch" (Helen) and a "Bedroom", in which the bedroom furniture doesn't even fit. Needless to say, this will be used as an occasional overnight room for people staying (willingly or because they're unable to use their own legs...) over and (probably) a storage room.

Basically, this whole process has made me feel very grown up; primarily because I have been doing most of the dealings with the estate agents (as the one who was willing to make the phone calls on Monday) and this gives me a terrifying level of responsibility, but also because I now realise that next year I will be responsible for myself; all the payments of bills and rent will be down to me (probably not financially, but I will be in charge of organising it) and if I mess up, it will be my own fault, with no way to blame anyone else.

That's scary.

In addition, I have decided I would be a terrible estate agent. I would feel incredibly guilty for the amount of... not quite lying, but... 'smoothing over' I would need to do to sell certain properties. Did you know there's no patron saint of estate agents*? Somehow it doesn't really surprise me. (At a stretch you could say it was St Lucy, patron saint of salespeople, but I'm not sure that's the entire of the estate agent's job.)

To be honest, my main concern for next year is getting on with my housemates, who are all lovely girls. This may seem a silly thing to say, if they're all lovely girls, why would that be a concern?
Basically, because they're so lovely I'm worried that I will be the one who will annoy everyone to the point where we have an argument and they are no longer friends with me. Apparently there's meant to be someone like that in every house. I really hope we're the exception...

If it doesn't work out, I could always live in a yurt.

Emmatt update: I realised I didn't do one of these last time, so in case anyone's interested, I thought I'd let you know. Matt and I sent a lot of time together over the Christmas holidays, even though we both had a lot to do. We're both very happy that we've now (more or less) reached five months together and are making plans to see each other in a few weeks, just after my Birthday. I also hope during this time to introduce him to some of my other friends (the girls I'm living with, plus other people in my course), although he doesn't know this yet. Sorry Matt.

*P.S. Father mine, the patron saint of Bankers is St Matthew

Ding Dong Merrily On A Budget

I know, I know, I haven't updated this blog for over two months now and I'm very, very sorry. Therefore, like a parent who has missed their child's school play, I am now going to ravish you with extra attention and new and more interesting posts to make up for it. Hopefully. I have actually been hoping to write this particular post for about six or seven weeks now, so it is a bit late (and out of season), but I hope you'll excuse that. Anyway, on with the show!

As you can see, today's post is called "Ding dong merrily on a budget" and, basically, the idea behind this has sprung from my desperate need, as a student, to decorate my room for Christmas on an incredibly minimal amount of money. I set this limit for myself at no more than £10 and managed to come in below this amount anyway. So, my first shopping trip took me to (where else?) Tesco; where I spent approximately a fiver(?) on decorations, consisting of:

• Tinsel, 2 (two) - gold, total of 4m
• Stocking, 1 (one) - red and white felt
• Battery powered Christmas lights, 1 (one) string - star-shaped, purple and pink alternating

I was quite happy with the way my looked at this point; I may even have a photo...

Somewhere.

For now, allow me to continue.

This was in the last week or so of November (I thought it best to get in early, although I am usually against this, as I was leaving Uni on 13th December, so wanted the full Christmas season), however, by the beginning of December my friends and I had decided that we wanted to have a Christmas party and, seeing as how my room was the tidiest/I'd done the least hosting all term/I was most open to decoration, my room became the designated party room. This, of course, required more decorations to be purchased. 

With now only £5 left in the budget and most of a room to make festive, we thought we'd have our work cut out (does anyone else think I'm beginning to sound like one of those stupid house makeover programmes?) Anyway, we decided to start thinking outside the box; the regular person, socially acceptable box...

So we spent about £3.50 on wrapping paper and we (Declan and Elena) wrapped the walls of my room.

Yes. That happened. 

See photo if you don't believe me.

Please ignore these people. They're just actors posing as my friends.

So, my plan with this post was to encourage people to get involved in the "Ding dong..." idea wot I came up wiv, but obviously it's a bit late for that. So, please consider it for next (this) year (especially those of you on tight budgets) as a cool Christmassy thing to do.

Hopefully I'll have another post soon. Much love xx

(P.S. Tom, I haven't forgotten about your letter. I have it and am in the process of writing back, but I haven't yet had the chance to send it - sorry!!!)