Yesterday's Adventure

I wrote a little something about what I got up to yesterday, and I thought I'd share it with you... So here it is!

ON THE ISLAND AT METRO RADIO

I was one of the lucky ones to get a place on the ‘How To Get Into Radio’ workshop at Metro Radio in Newcastle, after seeing the opportunity on GoThinkBig. I live in Cumbria, so I made a special trip over to Geordieland on the 22^nd May for the workshop, and it didn’t disappoint.

So, when I arrived at Metro Radio I stood for a while in the reception area. There was an obvious gathering of the other people who were going to the workshop, but I didn’t introduce myself then. I stood and observed my surroundings for the ten minutes while we waited, not wanting to dive straight into a conversation about university with strangers! Especially seeing as I don’t go to university and I am not going to, so what would I have had to add to the conversation?

I looked round when I heard my name spoken suddenly by the receptionist, but alas, it was a different Zoë she was talking about - one that worked there. Not long after that we were collected and all piled into the lift to the second floor. A couple of jokes were exchanged to fill the somewhat awkward silence; “this is the most people we’ve ever had in this lift” and “I should do one of those fifty things you should do in an elevator”, the latter of which I thought sounded far too American. After all, we were smack bang in the middle of Newcastle.

When all ten of us escaped the lift - eight workshop attendees, the member of staff escorting us and an overwhelmed delivery man with some boxes - we were faced with a corridor that led to the offices. The office was massive, bigger than the office at CFM Radio and the soundproof studios were lined up along the back wall looking very snazzy and hi-tech! I spotted Micky who I’d worked with in news when I did work experience with CFM Radio, but I didn’t particularly want to yell “Hello!” across the sprawling office! In fact, I hadn’t even said anything yet, still a bit nervous and taking it all in.

I silently cursed myself for rushing to get something to eat before I arrived, because before the workshop got underway we were presented with the Holy Grail of sandwich displays, complete with crisps and some delicious looking cakes (which I unfortunately ended up on the opposite end of the table to).  And so began the routine of passing around disposable plates and napkins emblazoned with the catering company’s logo, politely taking only a small amount of crisps and longingly eying up the tuna and cucumber sandwiches that were just that little bit too far away.

Then came the inevitable - the ‘what brings you here’ conversations. I immediately dreaded somebody asking me - it seemed like everyone here was of university stock, or was planning on going. What was I supposed to say? I was the odd one out. I was alright when Justin, the Head of News got there and began the workshop, asking us all to introduce ourselves officially. “My name’s Zoë and I’ve not gone to university” I said. “I finished my A Levels last summer and I’m trying to get into media in a different, non-degree way. I’ve done some work experience with CFM and I’m involved with the local radio.” That’s what I said; well, words to that effect anyway. I didn’t mention my book and self-publishing and all that - I suppose it wasn’t really relevant.

I didn’t say much else during the workshop, preferring to sit and listen, observe and soak it all in. I wrote plenty of notes as Justin went through his very cleverly animated slideshow. Actually, there was some really fantastic animation; everything was all there on the first slide in little bubbles of tiny writing, which it zoomed into and then back out again and into a different part. I do like a bit of PowerPoint, so that fascinated me and I had to remember to pay attention to the ‘how to get into radio’ tips! There were loads! Some I was already familiar with, either through previous work experience and advice, transferable skills from my attempts to get my writing career off the ground and a little bit of common sense as well. I did learn some valuable things though, things specific to applications for jobs in radio, and things I just hadn’t heard before. Things like sending audio samples in - record yourself reading a news bulletin instead of doing an interview so there’s more of you, sending about three to four minutes of audio and putting the best stuff at the beginning to keep them listening, as well as sending small attachments with emails so as not to clog up their inbox and make your email a prime target for deletion! Justin recommended doing a short CV, not too flashy or dense with text and two A4 pages at most. Another interesting idea was to get in touch with radio stations about your ideas for a story or feature, because if it’s interesting and you’re enthusiastic, there’s a good chance you’ll be invited for a chat. And that’s your ‘foot in the door’ so to speak, which is where it all begins.

That was the basic message of the workshop I think - keep going, keep trying, don’t get disheartened if people say no, get your name out there, get experience and be yourself. It all sounds easy when you put it like that, doesn’t it?

Well, I was really quite inspired by the whole thing. Justin told us about where he started in hospital radio, his lucky break and his experiences at Capital and Magic FM. Then we were shown around the place - various studios for various things, loads of people working away at all the desks and we even popped in to see the presenter who was currently broadcasting live. Well, obviously he wasn’t actually speaking to however many million people at the time, he was playing a nice bit of Bruno Mars, so he gave us some advice from his twenty years in radio. It was quite surreal and even a bit comical when he suddenly turned away mid-sentence, popped his headphones on and spoke into the microphone about Olly Murs before introducing the next song (not actually an Olly Murs song, but hey ho), then he turned back to us as though nothing had happened! One of the girls who attended the workshop was astounded and asked “Was that live?” to which he replied “Well I hope so, otherwise I’ll be in trouble!”

We walked back to the room to retrieve our belongings after that. I was still looking round, taking everything in and I bumped into a large pillar, which was both embarrassing and painful. I prayed no-one saw, which they didn’t appear to have, so I surreptitiously rubbed my shoulder and pretended I had an itch. Back in the room, we picked our stuff up and Justin invited us to eat more of the sandwiches (I finally got that tuna one I had been after!), as there was still enough to feed a primary school. Yes, I know the word ‘army’ traditionally belongs in that saying, but I think a swarm of small children can be far more terrifying than armed soldiers in certain situations!

Anyway, then we all piled into the lift again and back down we went. And then it was over. It was a good day - fab tips, nice people, beautiful sunshine and I got a free pen as well. That might not sound like much to most people, but to writers pens are like magic wands that connect our brains to the real world, so I like to have a nice one. It’s a good clicky biro that fits in the spine of a spiral-bound notebook without sticking out too much, so I was particularly happy. I learnt a few things, took lots of notes and now I’ve got a few ideas I need to follow up after being inspired by Justin and everyone else at Metro Radio, one of the ideas being the thing I’ve just this second finished writing!

I Honestly Can't Believe I've Posted This

So, I was thinking - there is one aspect of me that I haven't actually written about in my blog. My love life. Don't get excited, it's pretty much non-existent, so I'm not going to be sitting here telling a glorious love story. However, this is a very honest blog, and I'd be lying if I pretended it wasn't a big part of my life and thoughts. To be fair, it's quite weird writing this and knowing I'm then going to publish it on the internet for anybody to read, seeing as I hardly ever talk about this sort of stuff. I much prefer to write about it. Which (in case you hadn't noticed) is what I'm doing here. I usually write about it in poetry though, so this is a new genre for me!

I was sort of inspired to write about it by my friend Amy, who read both my poetry books and gave me some feedback. It was really enlightening to hear her opinions, and in a way quite unlike other people when they had said what they thought. She told me what her favourites were and commented on them, but none of her favourites were love poems (of which there are a fair few, especially in the second collection). So I asked her what she thought of them, and she said that it was difficult to imagine me writing them, so didn't quite know what to make of them. She said when she thinks of me, she thinks of a person who wrote the other poems, ones about being the best you can be, struggling with leaving school, finding your place and taking on the world. But she doesn't think of somebody who would write about my feelings for one of the male species, because I never EVER talk about that part of me. I hadn't really realised that people saw me (or didn't see me as the case may be) like that, because obviously I know myself inside out and see myself as all the different parts of me all mixed up together. It was definitely an insight into how the world views me, even if it was just the thought of one person. But it got me thinking that perhaps I should talk about it, because it is an important part of everybody's lives and I'm no different.

Obviously, I'm not actually talking about it, I am typing about it, which is the best way! As I said, I never talk about it, and after careful consideration I've realised that it's because I have little to no confidence in that aspect of life. Obviously, you can't help but fancy people, develop crushes or even fall in love, but I never let it show. You're probably thinking "God, you're eighteen years old woman, get a grip and stop acting like a little girl!" but I honestly am the worst person ever for talking about love. Don't get me wrong, people talk to me about their love life and problems frequently and I listen and give them advice and all that, but if anybody tries to talk about my feelings, I immediately go horrifically shy and embarrassed and don't want to talk about it, often saying the words "shut up" as quickly as I can - so quickly it comes out as one word! Occasionally I have little (and I do mean little) talk about it to somebody close to me, but that's about as often as a leap year.

I honestly have no idea why that is. I wonder if it's just the way I am. Funnily enough, I was watching Celebrity Big Brother and Rylan (of X Factor fame) was saying how he gets all embarrassed and can't talk about it if he fancies somebody, and I was rather relieved - "At least it's not just me!" I thought. So maybe it’s in my genes that I function that way. Or maybe it's the fact that I've been the definition of 'unlucky in love' in the past. I'm not going to go into detail, but I will tell one story and you can probably guess how all the other stories went!

It was Valentine's Day and I was in Year 8 - therefore I was thirteen years old. I'd had a crush on this guy in my form for a while, I don't know, a couple of months or something. Anyway, a few sixth form students were organising this charity Valentine's message thing to pay for their expedition abroad or something of that nature. Basically you'd write a message, and put who it was for (and who it was from if you wanted), and they'd type it up on this nice card and deliver them on Valentine’s Day, which was a Wednesday. So I sent him an anonymous Valentine's message-card - it read:

Roses are red,

Bluebells are blue,

You may not know it,

But someone likes you.

Okay, I borrowed it from The Princess Diaries, but I'm sure Meg Cabot wouldn't have minded. In fact, it said 'violets' on the actual card - obviously the sixth form student who'd typed up mine had thought I'd made a mistake. I hadn't. Bluebells are blue, violets are violet! The clue's in the name! Anyway, that's beside the point. So, on Wednesday the fourteenth of February 2007, I was sitting in my form room and the sixth form student came and delivered the little pink cards. Obviously, the person I'd sent it to got it delivered to him - my heart was in my mouth when he was wondering who sent it! Anyway, somehow he found out  - the same day - that I'd sent it. To be quite honest, I felt pretty rubbish when he shouted at me, in front of the whole class just before a lesson in an IT room, that it was "never ever going to happen" as he ripped the card up into tiny pieces in front of my face and threw it on the floor. Well, my heart felt a bit like that card. That was probably the worst, but my attempts to find love have never gone much better than that.

Anyway, moving on (slightly) from distressing events I've tried to forget, I have wondered if they have anything to do with my inability to talk about those sort of feelings. Or maybe it's a mixture - it's the way I am and that's just made it worse. Take my emotional situation at the minute for example. I have had feelings for this guy for about a year and a half, which are casually (and almost annoyingly) getting stronger all the time. But I haven't, and am not going to, say anything or do anything about it. I am too scared of rejection I guess, and also I am 99% sure it's not reciprocated (and that 1% is probably just wishful thinking). But I won't talk to anybody about it either, not even my mum, and I talk about anything and everything with her... except this. She's probably reading this blog now, so I’m sorry Mum, but I just find it very difficult, if not absolutely impossible, to talk about this stuff to anyone at all. That's just the way I seem to be. It's funny, because I have random moments when all I want to do is talk about it, and I think I'll go mad if I don't, but something still stops me. Weird, eh? So I express these feelings that I can't speak about verbally by writing a ridiculous amount of poems about him and posting cryptic Facebook statues that consist of painfully relevant song lyrics.

Anyway, that is as much of an insight into my 'love life' as you're going to get - I've already been pushing it to the absolute limit - and that is also probably as much of an insight into my 'love life' as anybody has ever got! So enjoy, and be proud of me that I actually posted all this on the actual internet, because this is my soul right here. Oh, and Amy, if you are reading this - THANK YOU. For encouraging me to get all my 'love talk' out, even if you didn't realise you were doing it. And if you are reading this, you will now know 'that side of me' a little better.

Anyway, on a lighter note, The Vampire Diaries is back soon, so I'm terribly excited. I'll sign off now, because I've been rambling since 11.43 am and it's now 1.07 pm.

A (Not-So) Quick Catch Up

Okay, okay, I know I haven't written for ages. But I've been busy. I've done my A Levels and left school, which to be honest has been a massive upheaval in my life. I'm not quite sure what to do anymore, and I'm missing the place like crazy. It's all a bit mad really. I've also self published three books, which hopefully will be the start of my career as an author. I'm working on my second novel now - no university or gap year for me, which is something many people can't seem to get their heads around.

I also lost my grandpa in May. That was difficult. I haven't really spoken about it to anybody at great length, as I tend to keep my emotions close to my chest. I wrote some poems about it, but that's the only way I've let my grief out really. I read two of them out at his funeral. My mum asked me if I would, and I said 'of course'. But I never, ever, ever imagined that it would be so hard. I think it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I did it. I've no idea how I even got the words out, especially by the time I got to the second poem. I have never had to control my voice so much in my life - it was on the edge of breaking and I had to hold that back in order to actually speak. I am so glad I did read them though. I know that he was proud of me for doing it, and I know that I would have regretted it if I hadn't. I owed it to both him and myself, and we both knew it.

The way he went was horribly difficult as well. He had just moved into a Bupa care home to deal with his Alzheimer's that he'd had for years. It wasn't at the stage where he didn't know who we were, but I suppose it was only a matter of time before he got there. Anyway, about a week later he was taken to hospital with pneumonia, and after about five days it was over. That was a horrid few days. Part of the time spent in the hospital corridor looking after my little brother while my mum and dad were with him, and part of the time sitting with him. He got worse over the days, so later on we weren't sure if he knew we were there, but I think he did. The first day I saw him in hospital he was the same Grandpa I knew, just a little worse for wear physically. But he still chatted to us as usual. Then the next day when we went back I was shocked. I wasn't quite able to process that the man in the bed was my grandpa, he was so different and I can quite honestly say I have never seen anybody suffering so much, let alone somebody I love, and I never want to see anything like it again. It was sort of a blessing that he finally went, despite it being hard to take for the rest of us. We expected it as soon as he went into hospital - he was ninety after all - but before that we could never have predicted what the week would bring.

I didn't know how to deal with it at all. I still don't, and maybe I never will. I couldn't write any poetry for the first few days, which I found odd as that's usually how I express myself. I just went to school as usual that morning after the hospital rang, and felt absolutely awful about it. I knew I needed to carry on as normal but that still made me feel guilty. I couldn't even talk to anybody about it either - I didn't even tell one of my best friends about it for ages, I couldn't seem to help but stew in silence. I spoke to a friend at my drama group and she asked why I hadn't been there at the previous week's meeting and I said I hadn't been able to go because my grandpa had been taken into hospital that night. She said “Oh, I hope he gets better." to which I said "He didn't." Then I laughed. I actually laughed. She looked at me a bit oddly, but I just couldn't help it. It sounded like an exchange from a sitcom or something. The last thing it felt like was reality. Of course, I then had to explain why I had just laughed, which just made the whole thing awkward. I'll definitely never forget that moment.

I still miss him. And I think of all the things he's missed as well. Me sitting my exams and passing them, the last prom, leaving school for good, my first book being published, me winning a competition at CFM (the local radio station) to report for them and interview the Duke Of Gloucester and then doing further work experience with them - loads of stuff. My exam results, ironically enough, were released on what would have been his birthday. But it wasn't the big moments that made me miss him being here to see them. It's the little moments, like yesterday I finally bought a pair of red jeans that I had been wanting for over a year, and a pair of proper Converse that I had also wanted for ages. And that night, after having a really nice day shopping I just broke down because all I wanted to do was be able to go over to his flat the next day or whenever we would have seen him and tell him all about it. I remember telling him about my desire for red jeans and I knew he'd be happy I'd finally got them and he'd have loved to have seen them. I wanted to be able to ring him up and tell him about my day shopping and tell him I'd show him my new stuff the next time I saw him. But I couldn't. And that broke my heart quite unexpectedly.

And now I've been kicked out of school as well. I do mean kicked out, because I really did not want to leave. I loved the place. I spent the last seven years of my life going to that place every day, and it was my routine. I'd got rid of things like Maths, French and horrible PE - in Sixth Form you got to choose what you did in Games, and I am proud to say I chose the least energetic option. I'd done table tennis in Year 12, which basically involved me watching the aforementioned sport, sometimes while writing my book or some poetry, and having a laugh while the teacher played against my friend and often lost. Then in Year 13 we both switched to do badminton (the teacher supervising table tennis changed and I'll just say that we didn't particularly get on with the new one) which still involved me watching the sport, occasionally writing and having a laugh as before. I still didn't like the waste of a double lesson where my time would have been better spent actually doing some work or writing where I didn't have to hide my notebook at a seconds notice, but it was bearable. So I liked school. I was doing stuff that interested me (most of the time, there was that History lesson I fell asleep in after all) and I got to see my friends every day and I had some of the best times. But that's gone now. I'm not happy about it in the slightest, I think I'd even suffer a PE lesson of hockey in the freezing rain once a week if I could get the rest back. Now one of my best friends has gone off to university and left me behind, which is hard to deal with, especially when she says on the phone that she's 'replaced' me (in the nicest way possible) but that was obviously going to happen. The rest of my friends are still in school, so I don't get to see them much either. The dynamic of my drama group I've been in for seven years has changed as well, and however much the original crowd fight for it, it's never going to be the same. I guess it doesn't help that I have a deep rooted hate/fear of change though.

But then again, the past six months have also been wonderful. I passed all my A Levels without loss of sanity - which at several times I thought was impossible, I had a wonderful holiday in the summer, I've lost about two stone since leaving school (not even kidding, my black waistcoat doesn't fit me anymore and I've had to start wearing a belt with all my jeans) and I've actually published three books. Yes, THREE BOOKS. Three actually bound wads of paper that you can pick up and read, with my name on the cover and all the words inside were written by me and me alone (well apart from a poem of my Granny's I popped in my first poetry book). It's so exciting. I can hold my books and that's absolutely mind blowing. They're on Amazon for Kindle as well - look!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Zoe-Badder/e/B0091OHYTQ

I've already sold about forty online and fifty in print. My dad, who I have appointed 'Sales Director', is going to help me try and get them in actual proper bookshops, which is far too exciting to actually be legal! I will try to keep this blog updated to inform all you internet users of the latest news!

Finally, a lot of things have stayed the same, which I can be very thankful. I'm still living at home with my family, which is good. I'm currently sitting on my laptop (well, not ON my laptop) in my onesie, with my headphones in (playing Crash by Matt Willis) to drown out the sound of Sports Personality Of The Year that my dad is watching in the same room. So it could be December 2011 for all that's changed there, and I'm very thankful for the stuff that has stayed the same. I still go for shopping days every so often with one of my best friends; we meet on the train and proceed have a hilarious day. I still see another one of my best friends about twice a week and write songs, take the mickey out of each other, talk about nothing in particular, end up creating yet another in-joke and cause unintentional havoc.  I still have an incredibly enjoyable time whining about the change in our drama group and laughing about anything and everything with another one of my best friends. I still see another friend every week and talk about the latest episode of The Vampire Diaries and whatever else is happening in both our lives.  I still have banter with the people who are in the village pantomime with me. I still reminisce about times on the school bus and the trip to see One Direction live in January with my 'Bus Crew'. I still talk to my 'university' best friend at such random times (like when I was trying on clothes in a changing room in M&S, but I still managed to catch up on the phone at the same time) and plan things that never happen quite like they're supposed to. I still go down every so often to visit my grandparents, giving my Grandma Facebook tips and calling my Grandad a 'nutter'. I still make my mum laugh with my mad little outbursts. My dad still pretends he wants me to move out and whines about being my own personal taxi service. I still sneak up on my little brother and scare the living daylights out of him at every possible opportunity. I still talk to my cats like they understand me and refer to one as a badger and the one as a squirrel. So everything's the same, but a little bit different. Which is Mickey Smith's description of a parallel world from Doctor Who, and I think that's pretty much it. It feels like I'm stuck in a parallel world, but I'm so grateful for what's remained the same and I'm trying to make the best of all the stuff that's changed.

And tomorrow night it's my A Level awards evening. It's going to be the last time I'll see most of the people in my year, unless we have a school reunion in the future. I'm not bothered in the slightest about not seeing them again. In fact, some of them I will be quite glad to see the back of. The teachers there are probably going to think I should have gone to university, but I don't care. There's probably going to be people asking what I'm doing with my life and they'll probably scoff when I say I'm trying to establish myself as an author. But I'm quite happy with that. I think writing this blog has helped me as well. I only meant to update a short bit about what I'd been up to, but it turned into a full blown therapy session. I've always got carried away while writing, but I don't really say a lot. Well, not stuff like this anyway, deep and meaningful stuff, like the things I've written here. And now, I'm going to spell check this and post it, then I'm going to go and watch Rhod Gilbert and Michael McIntyre on Alan Carr Chatty Man (from weeks ago) and hopefully have a really good belly laugh!

An Update (of sorts)

Ah, lovely! It’s a beautiful day today. Well, it is now I’ve done my History mock. That was anything BUT beautiful. Apart from my handwriting – that was unusually neat considering I was under exam conditions. My primary school teachers would be proud… What a joke! Sorry Mrs Hart, I don’t do joined up writing, you failed at that goal didn’t you! Anyway, as I was saying, I have just done my History mock exam. The word mock literally mocks people who have to do mocks (so I suppose at least they’re aptly named). Isn’t the real exam enough? Ah, of course not! We must ‘practise’. Hah! All it does is stresses us out for the real thing! It’s like saying “Hey, look, you’re going to have to do this, but its going to be worse than this, so enjoy the lead up to the real one!” Anyway, in this exam we have to write two essays in an hour and a half. It’s better than AS Level when we had to write four essays in an hour and three quarters, but these essays most likely have more marks available. Anyway, so I did question one and two, as there are three questions you have to choose two from. Question one was a godsend – ‘To what extent did Britain decline as a world power between 1951 and 1997?’ I knew a lot about that and also felt fairly confident in my analysis (which is the most important skill in History you know). The funny thing was, until I read the question and then read it again and started to plan, I didn’t realise how much I knew about it! So that was a nice surprise. Question two was about Labour dominance between 1997 and 2007 being due to the weakness of other parties, which I was not massively okay with, but anything was better than writing about the Trade Unions for question 3. So I winged it on the second question but ran out of time anyway. Hopefully I did well in my first essay which covered nearly three sides of paper and contained minimal rambling. On the subject of minimal rambling, I am rambling a lot about my A Level History mock. Imagine if you, lovely reader, do not have the ‘pleasure’ of doing this fascinating subject, I would think you would be bored out of your skull about now. Actually even if you do do this course, I can imagine - from my own experience - that you will not want to spend any more time thinking about it than you have to. So I will stop talking about this now. What is new in my life? Well, not that much. I’m still at school although I’ve left for exam leave. Yes, I am strange, in the words of my friend Kane, but I find it easier to revise here than at home. Plus I can see all my friends who are still legally obliged to be here for five days a week as well. So everybody wins! I am currently living in the library. You may think I jest, but no! I spend all day in here, except for lunch and the occasional exam or if the need to visit a teacher elsewhere in school. There are computers, nice desks, beanbags and plenty of books and a place to stow my bag should I leave and want to travel light. Travelling light is an important factor in school. I have a massive nag containing anything I may need, but my essentials – phone, keys, iPod, purse and flash drives are packed in a organised fashion in the many pockets of my trousers. I hate clothes without pockets, which always made the search for school trousers an absolute pain in the rear end, as girls trousers never seem to have pockets! Fake pockets, oh yes, but they’re not real! That is one of my pet hates – fake pockets. I don’t see how they add any aesthetic quality to the clothing. And even if they did, why not make them functional as well? If you’re going to make it look like there are pockets, surely it’s not extra hassle or drawback to actually place the most useful device ever invented – the pocket – into the trousers anyway? It makes me so mad! But luckily at QEGS, we wore blazers, which had more than ample pocket provisions. My blazer had a total of six pockets. SIX. Those were the days… Yes, two outside pockets and a top pocket, two inside pockets – one being zipped, and a little pocket just for your phone! Even though we weren’t actually allowed phones in school, so that was always considered ironic. Anyway, off from one of my favourite rant subjects, I am currently in the school library which is blissfully quiet, as it is not break. At break, all hell tends to break loose. Pun not intended. But seriously, it’s a great fifteen minutes usually. Sometimes there are too many people, but normally there’s enough of the Library Crew to make it an amusing time. The Library Crew being the people I am friends with who hang out in the library. There’s plenty of us. I bet if we joined forces with the Bus Crew – yes, you guessed it, my group of friends who all go on the same school bus – we could conquer the world! We’ve got people of all talents as well. We’ve got an aspiring doctor, a couple of actors, a matchmaker, people who can cook, scientists, a mathematician, a ridiculous amount of musicians, a few writers, many comedians, people who are very perceptive, people who can provide excellent distractions and even somebody who is athletic. We’re practically a new branch of superheroes. Anyway, that’s all I’m going to splurge onto the internet for now. I’ll hopefully write again later - if I don’t forget that is! It’s mentally sunny today, so I may go… outside!

Here I Am Again...

You know, I'm awful at blog titles. In fact, titles in general are a bit of a problem for me. The title of my book actually came before the story, the phrase 'Welcome To My Sorry Excuse For A Life' just popped into my head one day during German. There I was in Room one, on the second row back, near to the door and being taught by Mr Naylor when it, as JK Rowling said, "strolled into my head fully formed". Of course she was talking about the whole Harry Potter story, not just the name, but I can see what she means. It was a bit surreal actually. I wasn't having a sorry excuse for a lesson; in fact I was having quite a good day. I guess it must have been fate. I jotted it down somewhere important and also it was playing on my mind for a long time, it was nagging me. Harassing me. Not irritating me though, it was quite an interesting form of mind harassment. (Ooh, I like that phrase. I may use that in my next book.)

I can't remember when this phrase came to me; it was either Year 8 or Year 9. But seeing as I started my book in October of Year 10 - 2008 - it must have been Year 9. I don't think it played on my mind for that long. Then again, I could be wrong - you may not believe it, but it's happened before!

I've just had another thought. I don't know who is actually reading this blog. I mean, apart from my mum and my mum's friend Janet, this must be a very lonely little fragment of the internet. Who knows, one day millions of people may read it if I get my book published and it becomes really popular. People may be interested in my random life before it happened, you never know.

Currently my best friend Meghan is sitting next to me (yes you guessed it, I'm in the school library again) She's just finished off her personal statement for university and has added it to her UCAS application after a bit of panic with it not fitting. I'm not going to uni. It sounds like a nightmare. Loads of personal study (which I've never liked doing) loads of new people, a new place to live, probably in a city (scary!) plus all the random goings on you hear about at university, drinking and clubbing and all that jazz. Actually I think I’d prefer a nice bit of jazz.

When I watch these Cops with Cameras shows on TV with my mum, when their not raiding horribly untidy houses for drugs in Swansea they're out at night dealing with drunken students. It's revolting some of the things the human race gets up to sometimes.

Anyway, I'm sitting here whacking away at the keyboard typing this when I really need to be getting on with my presentation about Stalin for History. I've done quite a lot during this free period though, so I'm having a bit of a break now. I'll do more after English. Anyway it's break in ten minutes, so I'll have to cut my ramblings short.

Sometimes, I can tap away into a new blog post all day if I have the time, and sometimes it's a bit of a chore. No inspiration and all that. I don't know why that should happen really. My mind is always buzzing with thoughts, and all this blog is an insight into my mind. I guess some things that are in your mind you don't really want to plaster all over the internet. Or maybe sometimes I'm too bored to write here. Either way, I blog when I can. I'm certainly getting more frequent, that's always a bonus.

This reminds me. I recently sprained my ankle at work. I know I know, "had an accident at work and it wasn't your fault?" and all that. It wasn't my fault actually. This woman i work with put the Caution Wet Floor sign away and I slipped, my foot got jammed under the freezer and twisted around the wheel on the freezer. I was on crutches for a week. I'm off them now, but it's still a little sore. That's the third time I've done that ankle in. It's either unlucky to always get hurt, or very lucky not to have got broken, touch wood!

But anyway, when i went to see the doctor about it the day after, he checked my circulation. Everything was fine, so he said "Well, your foot's not going to drop off any time soon."
I replied "Well, that's always a bonus." he looked a little puzzled by that random joke. But oh well, I have a Sahara desert sense of humour. And that quote I have borrowed from Aaron who is currently in Big Brother. He’s a nice guy.

Oops, it's break. Loads of small ‘blazered’ children are filing into the library making incredible amounts of noise for such small children. And that quote is from my Biology teacher, more or less.

So, I'd better end here. Speak soon

Back To Blogging (finally!)

So, I'm writing again! Quite proud of myself really, but I did promise to update more often! Anyway, so currently I'm in the school library. I actually sort of live in here. I mean, it's warm, has computers, and has the nice librarian to have a chat to plus all my friends hang around here at breaks and lunch. We like to call ourselves 'The Library Crew'! But it's my last year at school now. I'm not going to university, I've never wanted too and I just don't think it's for me. But I'm going to miss this place. It's been my home for the last six years and I'm attached to even the fixtures and fittings! I have quite a few younger friends, in years 8-10, so I'll be leaving all them, The Library Crew banter will cease, not to mention canteen (or as we call it, the scran-teen!) banter, saying hi to everyone I pass them in the corridor, and the Bus Crew (the folks on my bus I'm friends with will be broken up too. I'll miss all the social side, because even though at one point my so-called social situation had gone right down the toilet, now it's really never been better.

So I'm making the most of every day now. And also, my entire life has been lived at school, well, most of what I can remember anyway. The morning routine, your life revolving around break and lunchtime, the school year being more important than the calendar year, buses and trips, form rooms and lessons - well, it's all going to change isn't it?

Ah, that's nice! Sweet Home Alabama has just started playing on my iPod. The first few guitar bars in that song are surely sent directly from heaven: they're amazing! In fact, I might just wind it back to the beginning to hear them again... LOVE IT! (That’s my new phrase.) It sounds really sunny those first few bars. Not that i play the guitar or anything, oh no. You won't find me making any sort of music. I'm about as musically talented as a giraffe. I do enjoy singing though (who doesn't?) but I'm not sure anyone who hears me enjoys it!

Here I am, rambling again! The title of my blog really does work doesn't it? That's actually a quote from Doctor Who - Christopher Eccleston said it, to be exact. But I did think it suited me!

Well, I'm all out of what to write now. I've just poured my soul out up there about leaving school in June, and then rambled about music... what else can I say? Hmmm.... Ah, yes! May I just congratulate One Direction for getting to number one on Sunday with their new single? Yes, I know this is still about music, but they deserve it; they are my favourite band ever. Well, I will always love Busted too, but they've split up and can't have a reunion (apparently Charlie wouldn't ever get back with them - very sad), but I am very proud of the 1D boys for getting the fastest selling number one of the year - 153,600 in the first week - and I was one of those people!

It's parent's evening tonight. I hope the teachers are nice about me. They've not got much ammo to be honest, apart from me doodling all the time, but it does help me concentrate, whatever they say!

Gosh, I bet I've written loads! Well, I'll just paste this into Word to spell check it (even members of the Grammar Police like me suffer from typos) and then I'll post it before you all fall asleep on your keyboards!

Write soon xxxxxx

I've Been Busy!

Sorry I've been away for so long! I've had a lot to do! Holiday, work experience, back to school - it just never stops! I promise I'll try to update this at least weekly! But for now (because I need to go out to work soon and I haven't had any breakfast yet) I'll post the article I wrote for my local paper when I was there on work experience. I did one last year too - which is here:
http://www.cwherald.com/archive/archive/a-teen%26%238217%3bs-view-of-the-town-%26%238230%3b-20100723353332.htm

But this is the one I wrote this year. It didn't make the actual paper, but went up on the website for a while but has now randomly been taken out of the archives... Hmmmm. Anyway, here it is!

COURTS, COUPLES AND CROSBY
THIS week I've been gaining work experience in the editorial office at the Cumberland and Westmorland Herald, writes Zoe Badder.
It's the second time I've been here, the first being last summer, and it's been slightly different this year. The main new thing I've experienced was my trip to the magistrates' court to have an insight into court reporting.
Last year, me and another reporter simply walked to the courts on two separate days, and we could arrive there in time for the cases we were interested in.
However, after the sad closure of Penrith courts, a reporter has to drive up to Carlisle every day to report. On Tuesday I, shall we say, "tagged along", and had a different court experience to that of last year.
The courts were bigger and we had to sit through many cases that were of no relevance to the Herald, but it was all really interesting!
I've been in the office as well, typing up small pieces and making some phone calls, but I particularly liked writing reports for weddings. It was lovely to read and then write about all the little details that made each day unique, especially a comedy car. I can't wait to see the pictures when they're printed to see who I was writing about.
It was great writing about a wedding in Paphos, too, as my mum and dad got married there.
I'm sitting at a different desk to last year, which has enabled me to get to know different reporters, and I think I've been able to get involved with the office banter on a couple of occasions.
I was really nervous on my first day; I couldn't remember everyone that well and was unsure if they'd remember me at all, so I didn't really say much and I was all awkward smiles and "I don't want to pester you, but …" However, it's Wednesday now and I'm really enjoying it. Tomorrow I'm off to Crosby Ravensworth show. I'm told I might need my wellies — I'll have to rummage about in my garage for them.
I've not been to many shows in the nine years I've lived in Cumbria — in fact, the only one I've been to was in Yorkshire. Therefore I don't think it counts — so it's probably about time. You'll have to find out how the show went from the "official" report in Saturday's paper.
Anyway, so even though I'm only halfway through my week, I think working in the Herald office is brilliant, and all the people who are lucky enough to work here are brilliant too! I really hope I'll be able to come back some day.

Zoe

Yes, so that was my week. It was a while ago now, but it was fun! Now I'm back at Sixth Form for my last year in education - it's a scary thought. It's practically all I've known for all my life - the school year and routine - and it's about to change. I'm going to have to make the most of it now.

That's all for now, write again soon!