Strange Words from a Strange Kid

     Here is some more of the oldy goldy. I posted this on FictionPress and decided to move it here, so the "cleaning out my room" part is from ages ago when I was packing to go to university, as said below. And, as you well know, I've been at university for about five months now, so this is a while back. Enjoy the random thoughts of a ten and twelve year old. 

---

     I was cleaning out my room, today and yesterday, because as you know, I'm off to university in September. And my Mum ordered me to clean out all the things I don't need, in order to better use the space. In other words, I'm being kicked out. Literally. They are chucking out my bed so when I return, I will not have a bed or bedroom. But that's a different matter. Because upon my cleaning, I found two old diaries from when I was younger. I am not kidding you, it was really weird, embarrassing and funny. Which is why I have decided to share a few choice extracts with you.


     Bare in mind, I am eighteen now. Do not hold the stupidity against me.


Extract 1:
Basically the first page of my brand new diary. (I doodled all over it.) Okay, here we go,


24th June, 2001


(Side Note: I have just turned ten years old, as the 24/06 is my birthday)


"For my birthday, I got:

• Tomb Raider III (3)
• Pokemon Gold
• Harry Potter sweets 
• £5 note
• This diary
• A purse
• Two Beanie Babies 

And with the money, I bought, a bag and solitaire!"


     S/N: My life was so cool! I mean, solitaire. You cannot get any cooler than that. And Beanie Babies. TWO BEANIE BABIES! My life was complete back then. Google Beanie Babies if you're unsure. They used to rock my world.


Extract 2:


30th June, 2001
"Today, I had to go to Stephanie's (my sister) school fate. She did a display. I decorated (spelt decarated) a biscuit. It was yummy! Stephanie did pretty well, but she got hurt (HA!) because Catherine stood on her legs."


     S/N: I do love my sister, and do not wish her any harm, in any way. She was just an annoying person back then. Well, she's still annoying, but I am mature enough, and mellow enough, to accept that. Okay, I'm not. I'm lying, so sue me.


Extract 3:


2nd July, 2001


"Went to school (boring) today. Finished a bit early. When I got home, I played Pokemon Gold (ha, caught you out)." 


     S/N: All other entries referred to TRIII, so I was tricking the invisible reader, by playing Pokemon instead of Tomb Raider. Yeah, I was witty back then too.


Extract 4:


4th July, 2001


"No more P.E. until Friday. Yes! But, still got to go to school. Well, better then ... ... watching Football (a bit. Okay, there are worse things)."


Extract 5:


5th July, 2001


"Not boring today. But bad news. Gameboy been taken away until winter. Noooooooo. I can't live without it. It is a long wait."


    S/N: I was, and still am, into video games. But I managed to survive summer without them. My Mum made us play outside in the summer, the horror. Just joking! I have actually got funny memories of playing outside ... 


Extract 6:


8th July, 2001


"Watched CITV, a bit boring. Had hair washed today. Very nice and BOILING HOT. What are they trying to do? Scald me. Make me bald. Man, parents are silly sometimes. They are really, really."


Extract 7:


20th July, 2001


"The summer holidays are here. Fun, fun, fun and just more fun. Hurrah. No more school. Sorry, I might not write anymore."

~~~*~~~

     Okay, that was the first set of extracts from when I was ten years old. The pages were long enough to write more, but my hand writing was way big and filled the whole page. Plus, my attention span at that time (and probably now) was really short. So I would stop writing, or forget about my day before I had time to write it down. Anyway, let's move on to a twelve year old me.

~~~*~~~

Extract 8:


5th March, 2004


"Dear Diary,
today was Friday. Started out fine, in fact, it was perfect (for once). Finished off our group Science project, just need a few more diagrams. English was boring. I'm surprised. I usually love English. Next, I went on Prefect duty. Lucy (yuck) was back at school, and as she was ill, she got to stay in. A real shame. Humanities was fun. I answered a question, for once, and got it right! The second English lesson was boring, again. I got to do extra Prefect duties at lunch. Then Humanities again. Then assembly. After school was my Drama exam. It was late and we only performed half, as the group before us went on for twenty-five minutes. Gave Charlotte a lift home. Taking Steph swimming tomorrow."


     S/N: As you can see, not much difference in content or writing skills! I was still distracted when writing in my diary. If you can even call it that ...


Extract 9:


6th March, 2001


"Dear Diary,
It's Saturday! I woke up to the phone ringing. It was one of Steph's friends. It was 08:00 AM for crying out loud! Watched, 'Dick n Dom in da Bungalow' this morning. Then got washed and dressed and took Steph swimming. Had to walk all the way around. Walked past the school. The car park was empty and the gates padlocked. By the time we got to the Leisure centre, all Steph's friends were already there. Thought about texting Kelly to come, but I didn't. I decided to sit and watch, so I could play with my phone. Saw quite a few people, coming and going. At one, me and Steph left. Got home at quarter past. Had lunch. Played the Sega all afternoon. Had McDonalds for tea. Went upstairs to listen to music. Came down at eight. Wanted to watch a DVD but it was too late. Drank my tea and decided to give up chocolate biscuits. Watched TV for the rest of the evening."


     S/N: I'd just got my first mobile/cell phone for Christmas. I was really chuffed, because it meant I could play Snake. And another side note; McDonalds was a rare occurrence in our house when I was growing up, so having it was like having a Birthday Christmas celebration early.

~~~*~~~

     Ah, good times from my childhood! Aren't they just the most fantastic little gems from my childhood. Don't they just give such a deep and meaningful insight into my mind, which has changed little in six years! 


     ....

Once Upon a Time

     Once upon a time there was a sixteen year old called Kirsty and she wrote a crazy load of posts on a website called Quizilla about the murder of potatoes, the betrayal of teachers and the fear of learning to drive upon the impending turn of her seventeenth year. And this is what she wrote ...


May 9, 2008


The Tale Of Fred and His Murder


About two seconds ago I mentioned a potato murder and yet, I forgot to mention it. Maybe I was too angry to add it but, better yet, I believe that Fred - the victim - deserves a tribute. Fred was my close alien potato friend and yes, I know, I might have known him only ten minutes but he was extremely close to me.


I went into Biology on Thursday as usually, expecting to finish my coursework which is of course, an experiment. We were using potatoes as a source of catalase, an enzyme. I was feeling sorry for the potatoes and went to the bag with a heavy heart, for I had to kill one. That was when I met Fred.


He was there in an abnormal shape, sort of like a sterotypical alien head and he had an eye which was closed. I instantly took him as my own. I showed all my friends this amazing potato. Then I left him alone as I went to get my equipment.


That's when it happened.


Craig killed Fred. With a borer.


I returned and found that Fred my dear friend had a hole in his head. I was horrified and hit Craig instantly and he replied that I was crazy. I mourned Fred and told the murderer to shut up and then my wonderful Biology teacher threatened to shove a borer ... well you get the idea.


I am grieving still.


And yes, this did happen last Thursday and I should be over it, but I'm not.


And yes, I am receiving psychiatric help weekly and I am on medication.


So everything will be fine.

     Ah, good times. It was great to look back over that and remember that day. I love looking back over old memories. Poor Fred. He had a family to provide for, children to see after work, a wife to love ... and his life was cruelly snatched from him. Ah, sorrow for his children and wife. Anyway, I will post an old ramble of mine on a new blog every couple of days so we can laugh at how crazy I was - and still am, I guess. 

Conversion of the Converted

     It's official. I am now a hater of all things "half-term", more generally "term breaks". Because you know what. They suck.


     Okay, I had an awesome Study Week for all reasons non-studious and all that jazz. But that's just it. I did no work and now I'm behind and have three and a half days to jam out another essay, one that seems impossible at the best of times but is increasingly looking worse as the seconds slip by. All because my self-esteem took a lovely hit in the, already tender, ego. Ironically, my next assignment is about self-esteem. Anyway, what makes this essay harder to wrap one's mind around is the fact I'm all out of routine and sync from the week I had off. I can't get my flow.


     I said before Study Week swung around that I did not want a Study Week. I wanted a normal week where I could work as I had been and then go home on Thursday afternoon for my Dead By Sunrise concert (freakin' awesome - see more details later!) on the Friday and then do a little work on Saturday. As life goes, Study Week came whether I wanted it to or not, I went home a little earlier and the internet at home wasn't working. Dead By Sunrise were still freakin' awesome, however, and the highlight of my whole life.


     So, here I sit, cup of tea and pile of paper beside me, feeling increasingly more anxious as I stare at the work I need to get done, feel I can't get done, and feel will be crap no matter what I do. Thanks a lot world. Thanks a lot life. Thanks a lot my stupid procrastination gene. You make me feel crap.


     On a positive note, Supernatural is back for a sixth season, Pokemon Gold/Silver has been remade and I just got a £320 bursery. Oh, and I got to shake Chester Bennington's hand but more of that later!

"We've Got Guns. We Will Find You ..."

Supernatural season five is turning out to be pretty freakin' awesome.

     If you don't wanna know what I think of the season so far (and I'm about nine episodes in) turn away now. Because the territory beyond this fine words is spoiler filled. And I wouldn't want to spoil season five for you lovely British fans. Because that's just plain mean. And season five is gonna be amazing, so I'll let you get along and enjoy the experience first hand, from February. Hang on in their guys, it is worth the wait, you hear me. IT. IS. WORTH. THE. WAIT.

     Spoilers FROM HERE ON IN!

     Okay, it's just you and me Americans! You and me. And we're gonna have ourselves as Winchester fueled conversation. Granted, this conversation will be one sided, but you're welcome to respond to me. Okay, this is just getting freaky, with me talking to myself. I'm gonna stop now. Okay, here we go ...

     Well, I don't know about you, but I thought the first coupla episodes were a bit dodgy. Okay, that doesn't doing my feelings justice, nor the good episodes justice. The opening episode (5.01/Sympathy for the Devil) was freakin' awesome, after a slow start, and really threw us, the viewers, back into the action with hurt!Bobby, angsty!Winchesters, and action!Castiel. What more could we ask for ... eh, nothing!

     But then we came crashing back to reality with episode 5.02/Good God Y'all. What. The. Hell? It's like the writers' were looking for an excuse to introduce the Four Horsemen and kick Sam out of the duo that is Sam and Dean Winchester. Because really, to me, that episode was a mess. What was going on? Castiel turns up, nicks Dean's amulet (I was so not happy when that happened. I love that necklace and what it represents. Then again, it was symbolic in the sense that Sam and Dean are broken, and one of their major connections, i.e. the necklace, is taken away too. Oh, sorry, major digression) can't heal poor Bobby, then runs off, leaving Sam, Dean and a pissed Bobby.

     Next, we're off to a town where there are demons, and a lot of them. Then a phone call, then Sam and Dean are on their way. Yes, we finally cry, a proper hunt. Back to the basics, 'cos as much as 5.01 was awesome, there was nothing ordinary or basic 'bout it. But, as we soon find, there is nothing basic about this hunt. Ellen and Jo turn up (I like Jo as a sister or friend to the Winchesters. We need more kickass female hunters like her) and then we find the truth. People try to kill each other, a Horsemen escapes, Sam and Dean break-up with each other. You already know my feelings about that.

     5.03/Free to Be Me and You and 5.04/The End were good and funny and watchable, but not as amazing as they would have been, if Sam and Dean weren't broken. I'll admit it, it was weird watching two episodes without Sam and Dean side-by-side, saving each other. But Castiel and Dean were classic. I love Castiel and seeing him flip his FBI badge the wrong way round cracked me up. Oh, and seeing him on his last night, admitting he is a virgin, in a strip club, being slapped ... okay, that angel just cracks me up.

     Best acting though, for both those episodes, was the portrayal of Lucifer. I am really beginning to like him as an advisory, and when he spoke to Sam, it give me chills. I loved how calm and sympathetic and at ease he seemed, talking to Sam with a strong certainty. And when Jared played the part of him, Oh. My. Good. Golly. Gosh. Chills became thrills and gut clenching. Honestly, he was amazing. Curious and childlike and sympathetic, he retained the qualities from before, but gave them a different edge that fitted and worked. Did I ever tell you Jared is an amazing actor? I loved his portrayal of Meg too. He just got her.

     5.05/Fallen Idols was great, just because Sam and Dean were back, but not fixed. I'm glad to see there is no quick way to fix them, even though it pains me. I wanna see them back to their loving, brotherly selves, but I need to know that they truly have each others' backs this time. It was funny too, but at times sweet and saddening. Like when Sam told Dean he had been running away from him. The moment at the end was cute.

     You know problems are brewing when Supernatural chains five funny, lighthearted episodes together. That, or they were making up for the heavy, Winchester angsty beginning. Anyway, 5.06/I Believe the Children Are Our Future, 5.07/The Curious Case of Dean Winchester, 5.08/Changing Channels and 5.09/The Real Ghostbusters were all incredibly funny and well played, although I could have done without the mental image of Dean masturbating in 5.06. Not pretty.

     I wasn't sure how 5.07 would work, without the ongoing presence of Jensen, but to be honest, the old guy (sorry, don't know the actor's name) captured Dean pretty well. I could imagine Jensen saying the old guy's lines in the same manner, in his own voice, at the same time as the old guy. I know, insane. But I could really picture Jensen saying the lines and picture him acting, so yeah, the old dude did good.

     I just watched 5.10/Abandon All Hope... yesterday and I am now almost all caught up to the American showings. Just have 5.11/Sam, Interrupted to go and then I can keep pace with you guys. I won't go into much detail about 5.10, except to say all those lighthearted ones were needed for this catastrophe. But it wasn't the Dean/Jo moment that shocked/upset me. It was the Ellen/Jo moment that did. It was so sad and I cried. Especially when Jo rested her head on her mom's shoulder. As for the Dean/Jo moment, well, we could tell it was guilt that motivated Dean, not love. It was more like he was grieving a sister, than a lover or missed opportunity. Especially with the previous meeting that those two had, the night before.

     All in all, I think season five is shaping up to be awesome and I will be so sad when it's over, although I am thrilled and happy to have been given the gift of the boys forever.

     So here's to Sam and Dean, Jared and Jensen.

     Sexiness wrapped into forgiving bundles!

"You Picked a Demon Over Your Brother ..."

" ... and look what happened," Dean Winchester, Sympathy for the Devil.

     There has been a lot of talk about my life and most of it was my deeper, more serious thoughts. So I figured that I might as well discuss lighter topics. Therefore, it is only right that I discuss my favourite obsession: Supernatural. Oh yes, this show has my heart, soul and everything in between and I have a strong feeling that it will always be a part of me. It's got a pretty good grip on my being and it is essential to my sanity. So, you can imagine my complete and utter undiluted horror when I realised that I would not be able to see season five, because I am at university.

     Let's have a quick run down of why it sucks to be in England, with regard to TV:

1. You need to have a TV license to buy, and own, a TV
2. You need a TV license to watch TV
3. You need to pay for cable (Sky, Virgin Media etc) in order to get all those juicy channels that showcase America's best.
4. I have none of the above therefore,
5. NO SUPERNATURAL FOR ME IN FEBRUARY!

     Yes, it sucks to be English. Or it sucks to be a poor English student. I mean, I already have to wait four extra months to get to watch season five, because the USA gets it before England, so to take away my joyous right in many different ways is just cruel. How am I supposed to get my weekly fix of Jensen Ackles and brotherly angst? Not to mention the angelic delights that Castiel offers up ... mmm, yummy. Okay, visual drooling over, back to the seriousness of the situation Everything I outlined would be okay, if only ITV 2 had kept their Supernatural rights, because ...

ITV 2 HAS A CATCH-UP PLAYER ON THE INTERNET.

     Next catch ... ITV 2 did not pay up for Supernatural, deciding to let it's best show go to LIVING TV, which does not have catch-up player. So there we have it. The reasons why I cannot get to watch season five. But despair not, amigos, for I have seen the first episode of season five of Supernatural, the reason for this post. How, I hear you say, for it is not yet showing in the UK. Well, I reply, listen to my tale.

     Okay, I won't go into the boring messy details but I have managed to secure myself a viewing of the first episode of the next Supernatural season, "Sympathy for the Devil". Lucky me. Ah, very lucky me. I squealed when I watched it. Without giving too much away, I thought it was a fantastic opening to the season, especially if it is the last ... aw, sad faces all round.

"Sympathy for the Devil" (5.01) :

*CONTAINS SPOILERS*

     The highly anticipated (at least in my world) opening episode to the highly anticipated (very much so) next season of Supernatural. All in all, highly anticipated, several times over. And I have to say, it was worth the very long, but not as long as it would have been, wait to see it. Supernatural is back, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

     The beginning of the episode was slow, and it dragged in certain places, as the brother's try to figure out how they escaped from Lucifer's chamber. I felt that they could have made it a little more interesting, by making it fast paced. I also disapproved of the introduction of one new character. If you've seen it, you should know who he/she is, if you haven't, you will. Anyway, said new character does not exist to me, as his/her place was not needed and is causing Supernatural to blur lines that do not need to be blurred.

     Another great point of this episode is the dealing of Sam's betrayal. Of course, this episode picks up straight after the end of season four, where Sam and Dean had a massive fight, and were pushed apart by Zachariah's doing. Neither of them have had time to adjust or apologise after that fight, and they definitely haven't had time to deal with Ruby's lies and Sam's willingness to believe or the obvious betrayal of Sam to Dean. So it was interesting watching their relationship play out, watching how Dean tried so hard to be normal and treat Sam the same, even though he was hurting underneath it all.

     The scene with Bobby and Sam's reunion tore me to shreds. It was clear that Sam was looking to pick a fight with someone, wanted to be screamed at and told of all the wrong he had done, and he wasn't finding that with Dean who was trying to be calm and controlled, a first for the hot-headed older Winchester. Sam's feelings of looking for a fight were made clearer still, when he told Bobby of what he did. He wanted to be punched, just a little, so he could feel satisfied. Yes, it hurt when Bobby told Sam to "lose" his number.

     The kick ass action at the end of the episode was so Supernatural, so old school, I squealed with delight. I loved everything, from the fights with the demons, to the fights with the angels and seeing Dean finally stand up for himself made me nearly burst with pride. Of course, there were times when he was bullshitting, but you could see why he was doing it and he reminded me of his father, trying to keep everyone else calm and safe, whilst figuring a way out of the mess they are in. Sam, on the other hand, is heading down a self-depreciating road, one similar to the one Dean trod in season four.

     Ah, the ending. My favourite part, because I love me some Winchester angst. I just knew I was going to get riled, because the episode was down to its last four minutes so there was going to be a cliffy, emotionally. When Dean told Sam that he couldn't trust him anymore, seeing Sam's face crumple killed me. It really did. Just the way, one minute he was taking the hits, calm mask on, the next it was gone, a hurt despair settling in. And the way that Dean was hurting too, saying his blasphemous lies out loud, the way he didn't want to hurt Sam, but had to.

     Perfect ending to a perfect opening.

Dead By Sunrise: Make Me Better Please

     Anyone who's anyone is a Dead By Sunrise fan. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration but you should still check out their stuff. Their sound is original and fresh, electro rock, more electro but Bennington's vocals add that rocky edge. It's fantastic, most of their songs make me cry, reaching out to me on a personal level and stirring emotions I thought I had forgotten to feel. What a way to start a blog! Every blog should start with a declaration of love for Chester Bennington and all related music of his! Anyway, let's move along ...

     I have such a screwed up sleeping pattern at the moment. I have such a screwed up eating pattern too. Scratch that, I'm screwed up. I'm sleeping whenever, eating whenever leaving me feeling tired and hungry all the time. I really need to get a sleeping pattern in order. Getting up at a certain time's the easy part, it's getting to bed that's the hard part. I mean, first you have to decide if you're going out or staying in, then if staying in, what do you do? Strange questions that amount to nothing and then you go to sleep after musing and the pub keeps you up .. sorry, am I babbling? My eyes are closed, I think I'm typing randomness.

     Sleep, hunger, sickness ... all of it at the same time. Makes for an awesome mood. You should try it out sometime. Go on, starve yourself of sleep and food and then run out into the rain to catch a cold. Bet you've never felt better than that! Yeah, I know. Good times. Hm at this rate, I'll be dead before sunrise. No, that wasn't a pun. I'm not that sad -

     Kiss it better musically please. Hm, what's that I hear ... ah, definitely better. 

Imma Student! YAY!

  

     The time has arrived and passed: I am now at university! Yay!


     Moving in was like taking a cold shower. We collected the keys from a tent (that's how cool my uni is - they use tents to sign people in!) and walked over to my new block, my new flat, my new home. So far, good. It was exciting. And then I got into my room and was instantly doused in cold water. 

     My room looks like that now, but when I moved in, it smelt, the walls were bland, mould was growing out towards my face and it looked grotty. I did not remember the Halls looking so bad on the Open Day. I was paying £95 a week for all this. 


     It still looked bad when my Dad dumped all my boxes, bags and stuff in it (me and my Mum had left him to carry everything up by himself - there were only two flights of stairs, he managed). I was slightly startled by this turn in events, and went to check on the kitchen. It was slightly better, but still bad. I wondered if I had been shown a different set of Halls when I came on Open Day.


     Aside from the smelly room, everything seemed fine and dandy. We were late to a meeting due to the stupid amount of traffic into the car park, so we rushed over to that. We missed our time slot, got giving another one, and ended up sitting in the warm September sun with orange juice and cake. I relaxed a little, happy enough to be in my own little bubble. I kept glancing around the campus, trying to envision myself going to lectures. I was thrilled with the image in my head; I looked so damn cool. 


     This happy image burst like the fragile bubble it was when I returned to my room, only to realise that my parents were now leaving. Straight away. We'd been together for two, three hours at my new home and they were abandoning me. I felt rejected. But I was going to hold it together, I was not going to cry, I was going to be strong and mature.


     Dad: Here, I bought you some tissues, just in case you need them.


     Me: (Promptly bursts into tears)


     Dad: (Looking startled) I was only joking.


     Mum: Look what you've done.


     I felt stupid, to say the least. I had been holding back the tears for a while, calming down when I was free of my house. The reason for my tears had been my little brother, who kept crying whenever he saw me. I guess he hates me that much ... Only joking, he didn't want me to leave, and every time I saw him cry, I cried. I felt guilty, and I realised that I would miss him too. But I was not going to cry. 


     Except I clearly did. 


     I glared at my Dad accusingly, and he hugged me as an apology. I still felt stupid. I bet none of the other cool students cried when their parents dropped them off. Even if there was only one other person in my flat at that moment, and she'd come on her own, as her parents were on holiday. This reasoning did not make me feel better.


     Mum: We'll be visiting in two weeks with Steph and Paul, don't worry.


     Me: I'm alright now (I was clearly far from alright, but I was reigning it in).


     Mum: (Looking guilty) We would have stayed longer, but we need to get back to Steph and Paul, and your Dad has work.


     Me: S'alright (It was clearly not alright).


     Mum: We love you. Have fun tonight. 


     I watched them leave from the kitchen window, and felt a wave of sadness and fear. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. This was not how I imagined my first day living alone to be. I had imagined that I would be cool and impressive and witty. Instead, I was rapidly curling into the fetal position. 


     I made a cup of tea, because tea makes everything better. You feel sad, someone makes you tea. A member of your family has died, make a cup of tea. Your parents have abandoned you, make a cup of tea.


     It seems stupid to start this post with a happy euphoria and end it on a sad note, so I'm gonna make it a happy note to end on:

     I HAS AN AMAZING VIEW FROM MY ROOM!