Things What I Want

     It's my birthday soon.

     Don't think that I'm one of those insane people who starts talking about their birthday nonstop six months before the event, and then starts planning it like mad three months before the event, because I am nothing like that. I've given very little thought to my birthday this year. In fact, I was surprised to hear that it is my birthday in just under three weeks.

     What I have been giving a lot of thought to these past few weeks is my money situation. About how I don't have freedom to spend it when and as I like, to buy what I want, and for there to be no consequences. Stupid, I know, but I'm neurotic, I'm allowed to worry. I suppose I'd feel a lot better about the situation if I had money coming in.

     I don't.

     Anyway, I have decided to combine these two events/thoughts/concerns (it's concerning because I'll be turning nineteen, my last year as a teenager, and it'll also commence the countdown to me turning twenty - eek!) into this post. There a lot of things that I want to buy, but can't. I have a real big imagination, so I like to imagine buying them and owning them. To accompany my "dreamlife" is a list of things what I want:

• Pokemon HeartGold (24/06/2010)
• Scrubs (Seasons 1-7)
• City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare (24/06/2010)
• Spirit Bound by Richelle Mead (10/07/2010)
• Pride by Rachel Vincent
• Dean Winchester's amulet (24/06/2010)

     I'm a geek, I know. There's a lot of books in that there list, one of which wasn't even on it last week. I've recently been reacquainted with the Mortal Instruments series (this was a trilogy, but there's a fourth book coming out) and I want to continue reading them. My sister's bought this book, so I'll probably read it as soon as she's finished with it, but I do like owning stuff, which puts it on my list.

     Second of all, I know Pokemon is for kids. I know this. But I grew up with Pokemon games, played them to death, and I still play them now. The whole reason I bought a DS in the first place is to be able to buy the newest generation Pokemon game. It makes sense that I want the remake of my favourite Pokemon game to date. I've been waiting years for this remake, ever since they remade Pokemon Red and Blue. So let me have this moment!

     Scrubs rocks. No more need be said. I've been watching nonstop the past two weeks, I'm on season three, and I need to own the DVDs so that they episodes are there at my disposal. No one need get in my way, or face my wrath.

     The chances of me getting any of this stuff any time soon is slim to none (Fort Minor lyrics for the win!) but it's nice to list that what I want and see it in glory! But who knows what might happen. I'll come back and edit this as of when I get anything on the list.

     Don't worry, I'll date it so we can see when I get each item!


EDIT: I bought Spirit Bound last Saturday. It cost £3.50. How awesome is that! And that wasn't a question. It was a statement, because it was awesome. I even got a lemon meringue doughnut from Krispy Kreme, even though I didn't buy it. And that was awesome too.

Slippery When Wet

     I want to take this opportunity to tell you why it is not a good idea to have a water fight inside. Why? Because it's a fantastically hot day, and people always have water fights on hot days. Unless you're one of my roommates and you have water fights in the middle of winter/autumn, inside our flat.

     Water fights + Inside = TROUBLE   ---> This is simple Maths.

     Water fights + Inside + Carpets + Wet floors = DANGER   ---> This too, is simple Maths.

      You know what's coming now; a crazy story that involves a water fight inside, where something stupid/dangerous/humiliating/funny for other people/ crazy happened. And it did, and you'll probably never guess which sap got soaked/humiliated/laughed at/looked stupid. Okay, you will. You're probably ten steps ahead of me.

     First things first, we shall call this not a water fight, more of a water massacre, or a water attack. Because in all honesty, it wasn't that much of a water fight. Water fights are where two or more people get soaked, and throw water at each other, and in this fight, I didn't do all that much fighting. I kinda fought against Fate, but I didn't get to throw water, except when I dumped it on the floor in spite.

     We were sat in the kitchen, eating our lunches, a perfectly normal and bland day. One of my roommates had a bottle of water in her hands, which spelled trouble, but I continued eating and pretending like I couldn't see what she was doing, or what she was planning. 

     She tipped a little water into the bottle cap, and then casually flicked it. It didn't actually go on me - it ended up on the floor, bothering no one - but I still went to move the bottle away from her, so she wouldn't do it again. As I was holding it, I saw something flicker in her eyes, and I knew I was in trouble. She leant forward, and I could see what she was about it do. She was going to tip the bottle back over me.

  

     I reacted faster than she probably expected. I flicked my wrist, dousing the water all over her lap, before she could get me. It was defense by offense, the only thing I could think of, and the only time I hit her with water. 

     I could see she was shocked and went to escape,  but it seemed that I had used up my reaction time, because she moved quicker. Someone had left water in the sink, from when they had been washing up, and then it was all over. I found myself soaked from head to toe, a bowl having been emptied over me.

     I tried to fight back, really I did, but I had no chance. She had grabbed all the bottles, bowls, containers of water, and was continually throwing them at me. Our other roommate had escaped to her room, and I was trapped. And then that was when it happened. "It" being in italics because of how important and how embarrassing it was for me.

     I fell.

     I went to go into the kitchen and slipped on a pool of water. I don't know how it happened, all I know is that one foot landed on the floor in the kitchen, and then suddenly I was flying backwards, almost comically, before coming to a painful halt on my butt.

     At the time, I wasn't embarrassed, and if I'm honest, I'm not now, but the teasing and laughing at me was unbearable. I thought it was funny, and strange. Plus, the horror did not end there. Not only did I slip, fall back and land on my butt, but I laid back against the floor, trying to gather myself. My attacker took this moment to try and soak me more. What happened next couldn't have been better, even if we'd choreographed it ourselves.

     She loomed over me, a washing up bowl of water in her hands. I figured what she was about to do and panicked, a surge of adrenaline racing around my sore body. I rolled to the right, just as she tipped the water and managed to escape an absolute downpour of water. I then jumped to my feet, and finally made an escape.

     Of course, I didn't hear the end of the water fight/soaking/slipping incident for days to come. It was funny, I'll admit to that, and it must have been great to watch - from a distance -, so I'm not complaining. 

     If anything, I think it's one of my prouder moments, what with the amazing dodging skills and foresight I displayed.

     Modest, I know. I thank you!

Breaking News: I'm Neurotic

     It's official. Some poncy, expensive, "Child of our Time" experiment has told me what I have known all along; I am neurotic. I worry, I get worked up, I get stressed out, I go crazy. It feels good, to be right. Along with the neuroticism, this test has also told me I am high in "openness", which means I am creative and see the world in a different way from all you uncreative losers, nice people.

     Here is the official graph that I was presented with. Wow, I totally made that sound like I was presented an award. An award for being "anxious" as my Mum once called me. As you can see, my neuroticism, is off the scale. My conscientiousness, extroversion and agreeableness are all about the same, and my openness is my second highest trait.

Openness: Imaginative, creativity, seeing the world in a different way. People with high scores tend to find generating imaginative ideas easy and tend to daydream a lot throughout the day. Also, openness comes with a innate desire to travel and see other places.

Conscientiousness: Dependability, organisational skills, hard-working. People with middle scores, like mine, tend to not to be workaholics, but have the ability to strike a balance between working and socialising.

Extroversion: Positive emotions, desire to seek out risk taking and pleasurable experiences. People with scores like mine are comfortable meeting new people and enjoy social occasions. 

Agreeableness: Sympathy, empathy, kindness. People with scores like mine are likely to be aware of other people's feelings and needs, going out of their way to help them. Also known as people pleasing, agreeableness is how well you can get along with other people.

Neuroticism: This is a person's response to a stressful situation. People with high scores are often tense, anxious and stressed. They also tend to experience changeable moods, which swing around in extremes.

     Okay, that's the definitions and explanations. I'm not sure about the extroversion trait, especially looking back over my start at university. I do like meeting new people, but I still get nervous about it; it doesn't come as naturally as the extroversion explanation might say. Although, that could be my neuroticism coming into play.

     Looking further into the information I was given, it also seems like I'm heading into the wrong career. I've been told by the "Child of our Time" that I should be going into an economic career. Well, I'm a Psychology student, so you couldn't get further from "economic" if you tried.

     Also, when you look at my scores, I'm high in "openness" which is creativity, and I'm high in "neuroticism". So, why would a career in the economy be good. It's not creative or imaginative, so I'd be bored out of my brain, and I get stressed easily, so I'd probably be stressed all of the time, especially when you look at today's economy.

     So, as a Psychology student, I will bow out with the criticism that sure, this study takes in personality and its effects on our lives, but no, it does not take into account other influences, such as interests, or the fact that some people can't make up their minds and randomly select where they are going in life.

     More on that nugget another time!

I Will Never Ever

     I will never ever be able to travel. You've heard of my past endeavors on traveling, most of the journeys consisting of me trying to get back home. Well, I had another journey to make last Monday, and it involved a train that I had caught many times before. No cause for alarm. I had a pretty confident sense about self as I made my way to the station.

     I left a little bit earlier than usual. By earlier, I mean half an hour earlier than I normally do. That sounds stupid, doesn't it? Like I was asking for trouble. But actually, my leaving earlier helped me out a lot. And the reason that I had left earlier is because I was ready to, and I figured that instead of waiting around in my room, I could walk to the station and wait around there. There was really no difference, I would be waiting.

     My train was supposed to leave at 11:52 AM, and I left at 11:00 AM, instead of 11:20 AM. It takes me twenty minutes to walk to the station, and I had to collect my tickets and all that jazz. I was ready to leave by 11:00 so I decided to walk over to the station and relax when I got there. I arrived, grabbed my tickets and walked to the platform where I noticed that something was amiss.

     It was a Monday morning, so the train station might have been busier because of that, yet there seemed to be an air of impatience and apprehension. People gathered underneath the information screen, which I glanced up at. My eyes scanned down the listing to be greeted by this:

11:52 AM - London Euston - CANCELED

     My stomach literally twisted in fear. And annoyance. And my mind screamed, "Why me? Why does it always have to be me?" It was either plain bad luck on my part, or bad karma. Why karma? The day before my Mum had phoned to tell me about her and my family's nightmare journey back home from Majorca, where they had to sit on the runway for four hours. I'd laughed. And now my train was canceled. Probably Fate's way of laughing right back at me.

     On the other hand, I never have any luck with train/bus/coach journeys. Or any form of transport. So it might have happened anyway, because Fate hates me, and doesn't want me to travel with ease. Either way, my train was canceled and that was my only way home.

     I went to investigate, seeing as my ticket was prebooked and meant I could only travel on the exact train that was canceled. I discovered from some nice Virgin train employees that all tickets that were heading in the direction of London were being accepted on any and all trains due to the overhead train lines being down in Wimbledon. Trains were still going to Milton Keynes, my destination, I just had to find one. Luckily for me, one such train was coming in now.

     Thank Goodness for me leaving early!

     The Virgin employee that I spoke with told me to get this train, as it was going to Milton Keynes. I didn't hesitate, ran and jumped on. The doors shut and the train pulled away and with a cold realisation, I figured this was the "other" train that went to London Euston. The one that usually skipped over Milton Keynes. And I'd also heard that the lines might be fixed.

     This is where my extremely overactive imagination kicks in. I had a horrible, sinking thought that they might fix the train lines and go straight to Watford or London and I would be stuck forever in another city. I know that if a train says it's going somewhere, it has to go there, but at the time I was frightened and freaked out and had visions of me seeing the station I wanted whizz by.

     All around me, commuters to London were planning ways to get into the capital without this line. Some were talking taxis, some other trains, others were talking a bus or coach. I was sat there, rigid, clutching my suitcase, chanting "Please stop at Milton Keynes, Please stop at Milton Keynes, Please stop at Milton Keynes" in my head, over and over again. Some of the other commuters gave me worried looks.

     To drive the fear home, the tanoy eventually announced that the lines were fixed and the train I was on would be one of the first into London. My heart literally stopped. My wild eyes glanced around the train at all the cheering, I desperately turned to the man behind me and asked if he were traveling to Milton Keynes, but he wasn't.

     The train driver continued his speech and informed passengers that the train would still stop at Milton Keynes for all the other passengers wanting to get off there. I tried to relax, but I think I was near hysteria from all the tension that had been racing through me for an hour. 

     I really think it is not safe for me to travel alone, so if anyone wants to volunteer to be my travel buddy ... What do you mean you don't want to risk it?

My New Old Room

     This is a picture of my room at university! You may wonder why I am putting up this picture. The answer is simple: I am moving out of it soon, and I think that I should commemorate my being here for eight months. Yeah, that's right. Eight whole months.

     You might remember me saying it was bland, ugly and smelly when I moved in. That is true, and I don't take those words back. It did still smell from time to time throughout the year too, mostly when I went home for Christmas and Easter. I would come back and be knocked down by the smell; musty and familiar.

     I quite like my room. I will be sad to see it go. It's home now. Mine. My very first room all of my own, without sharing. The funny thing is that this room is bigger than my room at home, even without sharing it with another human being. That just goes to show how much of an upgrade a smelly, dirty, freezing cold room is .... No, even though it's bigger, I do prefer my room at home. It's not as cold, smelly, dirty, stupidly positioned. Yeah, the list goes on. University Halls are not glamourous. I'd say you get what you pay for, but you don't. It's expensive.

     It'll be strange moving into another new room in September. I don't even know what room will be mine yet, but it's a weird thought. I'll be moving all my stuff home, only to move it all back a few months later, into a brand new house. Technically, the house isn't brand new. It's Victorian. But it'll be brand new to me!

     I hope it doesn't break as much as these Halls did. The cooker broke the other day; it won't ignite anymore, so we have to use matches. It's a battle of wills. You have a flame in one hand, burning down the match towards your fingers, and you have gas leaking into the air with which you need to put your hand next to in order to ignite, so it's pretty much a matter of who will get you first. I'm such a coward. I do a little dance with the flame, closer, further away, closer, further away, until the gas explodes and warms my hand, its way of warning me to stop being an idiot.

      Anyway, here is a picture of my notice board. I annotated it, but I don't think you can tell from the size of the picture. Maybe if you opened it in a new tab ... Here's a friendly list of the things that you will find on my notice board: A Linkin Park poster, a bell, a glowstick bracelet thing,  a picture of Jensen Ackles, a picture of me and my brother, handwritten Dead By Sunrise quotes, a picture of Chester Bennington, pictures of me and my friends, another picture of Chester Bennington and some tags to get into the local clubs. I know, I'm such an original genius with an amazing imagination. Go team!

     I guess in the end, this is a post to remind me of my first home away from home. If you understand that, you're not special or more intelligent, because everyone can understand that. Stop pouting, it's the truth. But yeah, this is my experience of University Halls and it needed to be documented. I will be moving out in less than a month, I think, and so I'm going to have to take more photos of my roommates and friends in my Halls.

     Here's to memories!

My Irrational Fear of London

     I have an irrational fear of London.

     How can a person have a fear of place? Simple. Be dragged there every summer until fear clinches the heart and taints the enjoyment of journeying to the place. London is the capital of England, everyone loves it. Everyone, except me.

     I don't mind London. I quite like it. If I had to create an analogy for describing my relationship with London, it would be to compare it with a rollarcoaster. You go on a rollarcoaster, even though you know you're afraid, if only for the enjoyment. Except, the fear on a rollarcoaster adds to the enjoyment, whereas my fear of London does not add to the enjoyment. Sometimes it takes away from the joy, sometimes it's just there.

     Okay, that was one screwed analogy. If you managed to make sense of that whole paragraph then you get a sticker saying that you are brilliant. Because you are. Even I can't figure out what I was trying to say, except that London makes me tense.

     My fear was a lot more acceptable when I was younger. Children and central London were never going to get along. Central London is full of business people, tourists and crazy students all shoving there way from A to B, and children get trampled on in the bustle. It's like a river of bodies, and you get swept up and dragged along to places you weren't intending on going to. I was probably ten or eleven when we started these trips; too old to hold a parent's hand, but too young to hold my own against the tirade.

     Another issue that I had was the fact that my Dad works in London, so he is an expert in maneuvering through the crazy crowds and getting the right tube, and getting on the right tube without decapitating himself. So, us outsiders had to try and keep up with his pace so not to get lost, fight the people's of London so not to get pushed away, and get onto a tube carriage that is so full there is no possible way of getting more people on, all without dying.

     Am I getting through yet? London is scary when you are ten and you've just hit five foot. 

       I am also claustrophobic. I discovered that when I went caving. That's probably the worst place in the world to discover that you are claustrophobic. It was funny too, when I had finished crying my eyes out. I think I knew, though, that I was claustrophobic. It would explain the raging panic that coursed through me whenever I was on a tube. The tube sucks. And since most of our day trips to London consisted of being on the tube, or on a platform waiting for the tube, I began to associate London with fear and panic.

     I liked Madame Tussards. I liked the London Eye (the first time, not the ten times I've been on since). I liked the River Thames. I liked the Millennium Dome. I liked Covent Gardens. I liked the West End. I did not like tubes, trains, crowds, walking for miles, burning thirst and tiredness. 

     I don't think that London's tourist advertising companies will be getting in touch with me anytime soon.

     Okay, when I read back through all that rambling, I am not hating on London, more on London's mode of transports, or London's citizens, though tourists aren't citizens and are the most annoying part of London, even though when I go to London, I'm a tourist, but does that really count since I was born in London. Does being born in London and two years of living in London make me a Londoner? Or am I something else entirely, since I spent my next sixteen years living in another town, and then a year at university? Am I babbling? Yes. Okay, I'll shut up.

     I guess what I have really discovered is that I have an irrational fear of the London Underground and that it overshadows my enjoyment of family day trips to London, although now I am older, that fear is a little subsided and more controllable. You now know why I get panicking in the depths of London. The tube is dark, hot and crowded. People get stupid in their rushing and I get nervous when I look at the spaghetti maps. To everyone who uses the tube every day with ease, I applaud you. You are much better people then me, who cannot even keep up with a guide. 

     Don't be put off by my poor description of London. It has so much to offer, like the Globe theatre, and London Dungeons, and the Tower of London. My advice to you, though, is to walk. Your legs will probably drop off, but it's better than losing your head.

     Shame about mine though. I think I've already lost it.

Me + Travel = Apocalyptic Doom

     Soon, I am going to have to come up with newer, safer modes of transport. Yes, this is a follow on from my last blog. On a side note, I think it's funny that "apocalypse" throws up "nuclear" pictures when you jam it into Google imaged. On another side note, I need to get better quality earrings that don't go green. On another, another side note, I don't have the money do to that, so I should just shut the hell up. Right ...

     On my latest attempt to get home, I was thrown into the longest bus ride ever. If you can call it a bus ride, ya know, since the bus was stationary. And before that, there was my first train ride without adult supervision! That went swimmingly, as you can probably recall. And in between these two disasters. Well, there was the trip to London I made and the fantastic journey back to Coventry after my visit home. You know these won't end well either.

     In fact, my roommate has declared that she, "Will never, ever travel with me, as things seem to spontaneously go wrong whenever I decide to go somewhere." I love her faith in me, and the fact that she is now associating my presence with the crappy journeys, as if it's somehow my fault. But then again, I can't blame her. I actually agree that the mini London issue was probably my fault.

     London is a scary place for an eighteen year old Dead By Sunrise fan -

     I heard that you know, that comment about me dragging Dead By Sunrise into this, but they were the whole reason I was going to London. That's a story for another time, but a story I will tell, nonetheless. It deserves telling!

     - and I've always hated traveling in London. It sucks. Okay, okay. It's more than that. I'm actually pretty freaked by travel in London. Me and my family used to go at least once every summer, for a day trip, and the travel was the worst part. I was afraid that our rushing for the tube would end with me being trapped on the other side of the door, staring at my family as they disappeared into the black tunnel. Since I've already been left on a platform while someone I care about disappears into the distance, I have nothing to worry about.

     Tangent over, I was nervous. I had to get a taxi to the station, get a train into London, get the tube to High Street Kensington, and then find the building I was supposed to be going to. I was sure that I was going to screw things up. I did. I ended up on the wrong underground line. How? I have no bloody idea, since I was meant to be getting on Circle, and had all the time in the world. I guess I panicked and jumped on the wrong train. 

     It's a good thing I spotted my error, otherwise I would have been screwed. I figured it out when they announced the next stop was in a direction I was not meant to be heading in. I saved myself, getting on a different tube that would get me to Kensington, but it left me scarred. I did, eventually, feel grown-up that I managed to weave my way through London unaided, but it was still scary. And it will probably be scary forever, due to my irrational fear of London.

     My next screwed up journey was a lot simpler, and a lot less my fault. Unless you count the stupid conversation I had mentally in my head. If you're superstitious then yeah, this screw up was probably my fault too. I had come home, which had been easy enough, and it was my first weekend back from university. I was doing well at university, but being home reminded me of what I was missing out on, so I began to doubt whether I wanted to go back or not.

     I was conflicted. I wanted to go back, but I didn't at the same time. I wanted to stay at home, but I didn't at the same time. I didn't know where I wanted to be. It turned out that conflicted was the worst possible thing that I could have been. Why? Because I ended up in Rugby.     

     Okay, I'll go back a few steps. I was getting a train back to Coventry, a train that left from Milton Keynes Central. This is the same station that I sat at for an hour when I was abandoned on its sixth platform. Me and this station have history. We go back. Way back. And it seems that our unresolved issues are stirring more issues between us. Anyway, I was getting a 19:11 train to Coventry. All I had to do was get on the train and everything after that was a done deal.

     I got on. I sat down. I waved to my Dad on the platform. We pulled away. And then the tanoy system crackled to life, and a woman's voice echoed down upon us.

Announcer: "This train will not be going to Coventry, Birmingham International or Birmingham New Street due to there being a person on the train line."

     WHAT!

     That was the first elegant thought to my head. The second being, "Why'd someone have to go and commit suicide when I was getting the train home?" Sympathetic I know, but a lot more clued up then the girls sitting opposite me.

Girl 1: "There's someone on the line? What are they doing on the line? And why do we have to be diverted?"

Girl 2: "They probably need to get the person off the line."

     I smiled at their naivety, knowing that it was going to take a long time for them to get the person off the line. Then panic kicked in. Hang on a minute. If I wasn't going to Coventry, where was I going?

     Rugby, it would seem.

     Slap bang in between home and university. This is where superstition fits in. If you are superstitious, you'll probably think my earlier indecisiveness and confliction lead to me being in between the two places. It was Fate's way of laughing at me.

Fate: "HA, you couldn't make your mind up and now you're stuck in the middle of nowhere. Stuff that in your pipe and smoke it."

     Well, that was the last time I was going to be conflicted about a journey. Just to be on the safe side. And yeah, I know, Rugby isn't in the middle of nowhere, but it might have been for all the good that it did me that fine night.

     On a morbid side note, the male announcer at Rugby was a lot less sympathetic than the woman on the train, and he clearly doesn't like to beat around the bush. Why'd I say that? I think he's announcement gave that away.

Announcer: "There are no trains traveling between Rugby and Coventry due to there being a person under a train. We will do everything in our power to ensure that the lines are cleared quickly and efficiently so you can be on your way. Thank you."

     Thank you indeed.