Eat, drink and be merry - for tomorrow, we die!

Current Mood: chipper
Current Music: The Clash - London Calling

Indeed. Say 'ello to Rabbit ;)

Yes, ladies and gents, this is the me who you will very rarely see: Rabbit, a personage who actually enjoys the company of  and is good with small children - i.e. Brownies. And no, I don't mean that in a wrong and na-asty sense, so doncha'll even go thinking it. See, for some reason, against all reason, logic, good sense and all those other synonyms for traits that I seem not to possess, I opted to do Silver Duke of Edinburgh this year. Again, not entirely sure why, but, well, there you have it: it was really a matter of Stina saying "Are you in a group for Duke of Edinburgh?" "Um...no, not exactly..." "Ooh, you want to be in our group?"

*Interlude of a split second in which A appears to forget all the pain and misery of the Bronze D of E, including the torrential rain, hailstones, wind, abseiling down vertical cliffs by accident and the general crappiness of Bronze that meant she had previous decided not to do Silver. In this moment, brain to mouth functions fail and mouth, giddy with the sudden sense of power, decides to so some serious damage while it can.*

"Oh, sure, yeah, if that would be ok...?"

*Brain finally catches up with reckless mouth, but alas, it is too late, and Stina, that indomitably cheerful little sunchild, races ahead in her busy busy little fashion as to arrangements, leaving the hapless rainchild, mouth smug and brain gobsmacked, to try to persuade herself that Bronze wasn't that bad and that she does want to do a three day expedition in sunny England. Really.*

It didn't work, needless to say. Ah, I feel my cynicism flowing back in waves now... See, here's a quick lesson on Duke of Edinburgh (hopefully a more succesful one than the last lesson about music...shit, I need to look up waltzes at some point, dammit dammit dammit...gonna have to be a really quick lesson then...): The award was set up, presumably, by basically the King of England, the Queen's husband at any rate: the Duke of Edinburgh. Not sure why he got given Edinburgh, I would personally prefered, I don't know, Durham or Winchester or something, but apparently they were taken and hey, at least it isn't Stranraer. Anyway, this Duke decided, in the general fashion of public blokes trying to give something back to the community/city/bloody nation, set up his egotistically named award, which is split into three parts, Bronze, Silver and Gold. I completed Bronze last year - an experience of much fun, jollity, rain and sprained ankles - and it involved three/six months community service (choir and church), three/six months skill (cello), three/six months recreation (squash); the idea is that you do three months of two and six months of the other, each for an hour a week. Also involved was the matter of the expeditions: one practise expedition and one qualifying expedition of two days each in which you were supposed to walk about 24 kilometres - but, due to Jess the Keeno's general, well, keeno-ness, and the fact that none of the rest of us argued with us, we walked a helluva lot farther. Not including getting lost time - which was considerable, believe you me, but we won't go into that, 'cos frankly this quick lesson is getting increasingly lacking in quick. Anyway, after completing Bronze and vowing never to have anything to do with the fine institution of Duke of Edinburgh ever again, I went and put my big mouth in it and did just that. Silver consists of three months skill (piano, possibly, if my teacher ever remembers I'm alive), six months recreation (squash, again, come on, stick with what you know to an extent), and six months community service. And in the last, I felt the need to change, 'cos church felt like a bit of a cheat, just 'cos it was a bit easy really, and I did it anyway - I seem to feel the need to make things more difficult for myself, if one being was to become extint in the human race, my natural apologeticness (sure it's a word) and apparant need to make things harder for myself would probably mark me out. In neon. With flags.

And as to that change...well, my sister had just left Brownies as a leader, and in the absense of Little Owl (yes, my older sister's name. But come on, she really is very little...), she *kindly* volunteered me. Hrm. Thanks Catherine...*eyebrow* But anyway, along I trotted like a good girl, and was confronted by about twenty - sorry, I tell a lie, twenty-four small and, yeah, slightly demonic seven to ten year old girls. Nervous isn't so much the word as bloody terrified. Or bloomin' terrified: I really, really can't be done for corruption. Not yet anyway... But yeah, got into it, found some of them to be quite nice if a bit...strange, and others to be, as suspected, downright evil - for example, when Brown Owl (the leader type person) announced:

"Yes, we need a name for A now."

*A looks absolutely terrified and tries to shrink against the wall and look as inconspicuous and unoffensive as possible. Apparently it doesn't work for, lo, twenty four little heads swivel towards her. Exorcist styley.*

"I was thinking some kind of woodland animal, rather than an owl." Good woman. I've only been here for a week. "So anyone has any suggestions?" Bad woman. Why would you leave it open to them?! This is how mass disasters happen!

Up goes one little hand, then another, and another. Fox, Woodpecker, Woodpecker II (being as there's already a woodpecker and Brownies aren't liable to let go of a good idea once alighted upon), Badger, Hedgehog, Rabbit and, the cream of it all, Woodlouse (I'm watching you, Minna Morgan, I know where you live and I know your mother, I'm watching you...). Brown Owl decided that maybe Woodlouse wouldn't be counted and took a vote (again I say why, why, why Brown Owl, have you no care for your sanity and my prefered aversion of humiliation?!) and behold, what won but Rabbit. So Rabbit I was, Rabbit I am, and Rabbit I shall remain. :)

Anyway, yeah, this as meant to be a quick entry, and I have my first part of a GCSE tomorrow, so I shall sign away and all talk of brownies, the Duke of Edinburgh and assorted woodland animals withthe notable absense of the woodlouse race, shall be suspended. Goodbye, my pretties, until...some other time...

- A

Oh, and Gold? Well, I would outline that but, well, it's really just too painful to contemplate...

Current Mood: blah
Current Music: Lifehouse - Only One

Wow, how much do I need to change this layout? The glowing-ness of the links pains me. Literally. Burning, burning eyes. Or maybe that's just because I've lost my glasses, have no more lenses atm, and my eyesight is about as good as that of a dead rodent.

Have done more work today, woohoo lucky me. Including two hours of maths. Doubly lucky me. All of youse who are currently in upper sixth, I really, really pity you - that maths paper is an absolute bitch. 2002 was pretty easy, and 2004, the paper we did for our mock, was ok once you knew where the hell you were going...but 2003 was a bitch. I suddenly have new respect for my sister's maths abilities, even if she does now have issues doing things like, I don't know, fraction multiplication. And no, I never said I could do it. Silence you. Also did more theory, and attempted to play my Integrated Assigment. Which leads me onto just one piece of advice:

DO NOT EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, EVER, EVER, EVER CONSIDER DOING MUSIC GCSE. EVER. NO, REALLY. I'M NOT KIDDING. I MERELY GIVE THIS AS A WARNING TO ALL YE WHO...

...sorry, I'll un-caps now. *ahem* It is merely a warning to all ye who actually want to be able to do some work throughout the year and then not have a crazy cram at the end. Ok, ok, maybe, if you feel it is a truly vital part of your education, and you happen to properly enjoy doing composition under crappy deadlines, then do by all means do Music GCSE. But not at my school. It's just...come on, just no. Don't do it. Really. The Badger-man, along with Chem-SATAN-woman contribute to large and chunky amounts of stress. Of course, it isn't entirely the fault of Badger-man this time, but still...well, still! You see, for music GCSE, you have to compose three pieces: two pieces contribute to coursework (25%), and the third piece, the Integrated assignment, is written under various details. This piece on it's own counts for like 25% of the final mark. I'm doing a waltz, called the Waltz of the White Knight, named mainly after one of my good friends, Zainbad, and, well, yeah, anyway: tried to perform it on Friday. It...wasn't pretty, shall we say. First attempt was ok, but I messed up one bit, so tried again: this time, there are like five consecutive bars where pretty much every note is wrong. Ah, fun, joy and happiness. It's amazing: compose a piece which takes you hours to do...then you can't actually play it! Oh, yaysieshit. ;) Still, I get to re-do it tomorrow, so fingers crossed: this is my last chance, the analysis exam is on Tuesday, please please don't let me screw this up! =P

We interrupt this Livejournal post to give you the following announcement: Screw this, I'll finish it later. Rule Number 1: don't tell anyone your real deep down feelings, even if you can access them. And due to very recent developments, I feel I should therefore finish off this post now rather than just going on a rant, which I can feel coming, or scrapping it entirely. Shame, I had a few more little nuggets of wisdom to impart, but I guess they'll just have to wait or burn up in nothingness. I betcha're all heartbroken. You'll get over it. ;) So, y'know, good day, folks, and I'll talk to youse all later.

- Morrigan 

Current Mood: mellow

I know, I know, it's disney, I should have grown out it like half a lifetime ago...but come on, it's just so good. Even if this version does have strange, strange chords. Nice, but strange. And sore on my lickle fingerses. My hands seem to refuse to evolve to become better at playing the piano, despite playing since I was in like year...5?...and despite every effort that my teacher makes to make me play jazz - haha, never ever going to happen. I'll stick to with the usual, thanks, until my fingers magically morph to be twice their length and without any of that inconvenient bone. Although, you know, I am branching out - survey my attempts at the Lion King (damn you Elton John, why would you put in so many chords in such quick succession?! I am a flawed being: I can't memorise chords!), and at Miss Saigon (to which I just say that you, sir, are just...sadistic. Boubil/Schonberg obviously have it in for pianists everywhere). And at Moulin Rouge, but that doesn't really count, 'cos frankly it's just a bit bloody repetitive mostly and I get bored....wander off...play something else...

Or maybe evolution doesn't work like that. Oh, yeah, and that comment does have relevance: before my rant about the sadism that is the Boubil-Schonberg combination of crazy chordation (that being a word and all), I mentioned something...somewhere...about evolution of my fingers. Maybe evolution just doesn't work that way. Or maybe it does. I just don't know. I have a vague inkling, but I haven't yet revised biology, and my mind is dead from a coupla hours revising today.

Two and a half hours actually seems a bit puny when you think about it. I mean, look at two and a half hours...then look at the huge amounts of work I have to get through in about three weeks before my first proper exams - music doesn't count, but that reminds me, I need to get the questions of 'gnali. Technically, my first exam is on Tuesday (hahahahahshit), but it's the Music Integrated Assignment evaluation - when we have done shit all this year and the exam is the grand total of half an hour long, I simply can't seem to get myself worked up about it. I should. But can't. And so I go. Then my next exam, French Aural, is the Tuesday after that: I have to come into school for all of half an hour (that magic time again) and then, due to my living in a small hole in the back of nowhereland...

"...he is just a nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans, for nobody..."

...I can't actually get home. Or rather, I can, but it really isn't worth it. It involves getting a bus then a train then a lo-ong uphill walk. Expensive + lazy Amy = I'll pass thanks. The next exam is then the Tuesday after that, which is English. Like, a proper exam. Dammit. And that leads onto a whole stream of proper full on exams, which start the next Tuesday, starting with Biology, the examen que je suis tres, tres psyched out about. Along with Chemistry, THE CREATION OF THE DEVIL. Obviously my favourite subject, as you can all tell. That woman is the only teacher who I can actually, properly say that I hate. I really, really cannot stand her. Hateherhateherhateher. Well, besides maybe Pacman. But I am trying to ignore my *dislike* (read: bowel-shaking, mind-numbing, knee-knackering fear) of that delightfully lovable french teacher, as I have to put up with her for another two years. Which, bearing in mind she reduces me to a paralised jelloid idiot with no control over my voice or brain in French or English. God, but I'm looking forward to next year...*eek*

Ok, the demon has just left to go have a Tetanus injection because she accidentally attacked a barbed wire fence. And yes, it is that way around: poor fence, just trying to protect itself as One Demon and Her Dog flew towards it in a frenzy of thirteen-year-old hysteria. Traumatised for life, I shouldn't wonder. Should be sending the demon the bill, I should think... But now, satisfied with my singular reference to real life without a moan attached, I leave you to your own merry, merry little lives.

And no, I have no idea what I'm implying their either.

Current Mood: content
Current Music: Greenday - American Idiot

Well, no. Not really. But the lyrics seemed pretty fitting for a new journal, I guess, and hey, I like the song. I can kinda play it on the piano, but playing it at full volume tends to just inspire the reaction from various family members of yelling for me to 'turn it down'. Oh come on, you can't really thump out 'Feelin' Good' with the flamin' pedal on! Talking of which, I have funky new piano music - www.cerulean-pictures.com: Free sheet music for a whole range of films. Excellent. Alot of the music is pretty simple I guess, and I can almost sight read it, but it sounds pretty - I maintain that Danny Elfman is a god. And bearing in mind I've spent the last couple of months stubbornly trying to avoid my Grade 6 pieces (good god they're dull), I definitely needed a repetoire expansion. And hey, Donnie Darko, Black Beauty and Shrek will do nicely for a start ;)

I'm never sure what to write in an introductory post. Or whether to actually write one. Or whether livejournal actually accepts HTML and in what form...*scratches head* I am teh LJ gorm: I know nuzzink. We're just gonna have to guess for the most part, so hey, bear with me:  I have ma music, I have a potential Green Day ticket (even if it is seated) and I have good music. Life is good.

Talking of music, ever tried just browsing purevolume.com? Tres bien. Burning Bright, Downtown Singapore, 0800 Tim, The Internet Fetishes...I can pretty much guarantee you will not have heard of these people, especially the last two bands. But they're the best I've found so far, and hey, with about 3000 people browsing at a time, there are a helluva lot of bands up there. Try it some time. www.purevolume.com.

Miaow...

Gah, le college demain...je ne veut pas aller au college. C'est ennuyeux, et mes amies...des amies ne sont pas what they seem. Two faces. More in some cases. Pretty little diamonds...

Mais school is going ok at the moment, I guess. I'm in English year 11 - this will ring bells for all you Brits out there, no doubt, but for all ye from far off places like...America or...Mexico or...Stranraer (do they have computers in Stranraer? Do they have people? All I saw was ferries and goats. Lots of goats...), this means I'm doing mes GCSEs this year. Gah! They're nationally taken exams, all year 11 students have to take them and everyone will look at your results - colleges, universities, future employers, hell, the police probably have a nosey in there as well. A little important!!!1!!11! Not that I'm at all hysterical or anything... But anyway, we had our Mock GCSEs over the past three weeks, and are now getting back the results. Now see, I go to a craaaazily academic school: no matter what the headteacher says about it 'not being an academic hothouse', it is exactly that. Which is, you know, fun, when it means if you don't get straight A*s, you're pretty much considered to have severe and profound learning difficulties. Well. Maybe a little exaggeration. But...not much. Anyway, mocks... due to the very sensitive scheduling of the Mocks at the start of January, we had to revise over Christmas - joy joy joy. I meant to, I really did, but looking back at my timetable, well - when was I ever going to do five hours a day?! Psh! So productivity was...lower than expected, you might say. Let me put it this way: never revise anywhere near books or photographs or...anything at all that can be organised, filed, chopped up into little pieces and arranged in a pretty but absolutely meaningless pattern that has very, very little to do with fish bone structure which I obviouslyfindabsolutelyrivetting...*snores*

BUT...looking at my mock results so far, I'm actually quite pleased, which is...unexpected. I do not generally do well in science exams, but so far, 'tis good. Which may be speaking too soon, as I get back Chemistry (a.k.a thesubjectofthedevil) back tomorrow. But so far I have 1 A* (I love RS!), 4 As and a B. :) Tis all good. But then, we get back English Literature next week as well. Bearing in mind last year I did...pretty well, lets say...and this year the exam was a complete bloody disaster, this could certainly be interesting...

Schwakamooooozzzz...

Ok, I...I'm not really sure what to put in here, 'cos it's a starter post and all that jazz, and I'm used to writing in my www.xanga.com journal, and bearing in mind I've had that for like a year and a half and have my own special special little cult following, I'm not used to writing as if I'm new to all this and you know shit all about me. Oops. I think I may have made a subconcious New Year's resolution not to swear so much. Ah well... And no, I will not tell you what the URL for my xanga is. Absolutely not. Well. Ok. Since you asked so nicely. Maybe later. If you're good.

I'm not gonna give you a quick bio on my life, my world and everything in it because, well, you don't wanna know about that really, do you know? Or if you do - well, maybe you're just gonna have to read on in future posts ;)

Arooo!

- Hobbit ogg.