It happens every time. They all become blueberries...

Today I handed in my two pieces of English Coursework. For good. That is it on the coursework front. Unless you count History. Which I don't (it's a sort of un-subject in my opinion). This means I never have to open my somewhat worn copy of The Bell Jar again. Of course just because I am not required to do so, doesn't mean I won't. Whenever I'm full of melodramatic teenage angst or general melancholy, Sylvia is always the one who teaches me a little bit of perspective. I know it's dull to read about my considerable workload, so over the next couple of months of hell, I will try to keep the school talk to a minimum.

I just discovered this on the Guardian website. It's fairly lovely as acoustic Biffy usually is. Simon Neil is THE sex. That voice! Those eyes! That... err... beard? I love how his accent isn't at all compromised when he sings. Also, he has a tattoo across his chest saying 'God only knows what I'd be without you'. Normally I am on the fence tattoo-wise. Personally I can't imagine ever liking something enough to get it scrawled across my body but I think they can look good sometimes. If ever there was a tattoo that could make a man soar up the ranks in my eyes, a good Beach Boys reference is probably it. Well played Mr Neil...

I'm still off meat but very much on the fish. I really didn't used to eat all that much fish, but being sensible, I am conscious that I need to get some protein somehow. My preferred source of this is cheese, but aware that I may swell up like Violet Beauregarde, I have decided to go for fish and fish-type things instead. Fish fingers have become my token comfort food and I had some really nice salmon the other day... Also if I eat fish, I can convince myself that it's meat. I cannot do this with any sort of mycoprotein, no matter how hard I try!

I seem to have replaced sleep with reading, a calm, serene room with one filled with revision-based post-it notes, and nutrition with biscuits. I keep telling myself that if I just work hard for the next month and a bit, doors will be opened to me for my entire life. It's strange that this sort of psychobabble can actually keep you going. Not that it will matter if I get scurvy. Maybe I should eat an orange...

She can't be convicted, she's earned her degree...

I have been super motivated today and completed the second draft of my English coursework, full of feminist drivel. It's depressingly mediocre but it's a start. I decided to reward myself by writing an entry (yes, this is what my life has come to) before I crack on with the other piece of coursework.

I had a bit of a meltdown last night. All of a sudden I decided that I really didn't want to go to university. It hit me that in four years time, I will still be living at home having accumulated thousands of pounds of debt and I probably won't even get a job at the end of it. I was in such a distressed state that I even spoke to my mother. Her response? "Well you can always go back to Morrisons!" Thanks Mum, thanks a bunch.

I really like the new John Lewis advert. Yes it's naff and yes I know that while the woman in question ages, her clothes remain constantly very 2010 throughout. The featured woman is very conventional in her lifestyle. She gets married, then pregnant and watches her family swell as she falls into retirement (during which we know the sun never ceases to shine). The advert manages to tug at the heartstrings, however and Fyfe Dangerfield (Guillemots frontman)'s rendition of 'Always a woman to me' is flawless. I hope he releases it because at present it is nowhere to be found. So all in all a (six million pound) success. Let's hope Mister John Lewis makes his money back...

Ingrid's not very happy today...

I love Ingrid Michaelson. She is nerdy and funny with a lovely voice and clever lyrics. Charlotte and I used to blast out a bit of Ingrid on the drive to school, but lately she has fallen by the wayside. I've just started listening to her again. She is refreshingly un-naff which is really my main requirement in a singer and she wears glasses. what's not to like?

So Gary Barlow is a Tory, eh? This revelation shocked and pretty much appalled me. He's in Take That! They used to dance around in cropped, spangly tops, for Pete's sake! However, you have to hand it to the guy for taking such a big risk. Will it affect sales of records? Probably not, but it can't do the Conservatives any harm...

I spent the day leafleting in Stourbridge. The sun turned a menial job into something fairly enjoyable, and with the amount of steps I have been up and down today, I will have a petite Kylie-esque bottom by the end of the week. I've also been told that you can't be nasty about someone who buys you ice cream. There's a loophole here somewhere, surely?

Lovelily lonely...

Long time, no blog! I got nine hours sleep last night after a day of absolute hell. The sleep set me straight again, so now I almost feel human again. The French exam on tuesday was by no means disastrous (despite fire alarms, no sleep and a bitch for an examiner) though I feel I could have done better. There's no point dwelling on it now, however, so it's time to finish off all coursework once and for all. I think things will get a bit better then. Maybe...

I've started reading Harry Potter again from the beginning. This can only be a bad thing, but it's a lifelong affliction. Like herpes. I'm only on book one, and I keep noticing little foreshadows of characters and occurences in the later books. It's pretty much awesome. Fine, it's not exactly a Booker prize winner, but it got me and millions of other kids into reading. Surely it's worth acclaim for this alone?

The sun makes everything seem a lot better, doesn't it? Coupled with the return of Glee, the return to school has been almost bearable. Only twenty six days left now. But who's counting? I considered applying for one of the post-sixth form jobs at school in September, but then I realised that I genuinely couldn't stay at Haybridge High School for another year if they paid me. Which they would be. Hmm, maybe I should reconsider...

I feel like I'm in the midst of a bit of a music revolution. I don't like blogging about music so I will keep it short and sweet.

• Belle and Sebastian - Just genius. The Boy with the arab strap, expectations and Piazza New York Catcher are all worth a listen
• Conor Oberst. Made my life. That is all.
  
• Stornoway - I saw you Blink is loveliness embodied. In song...
• She & Him - Who knew Zoe Deschanel could sing? Mind. Blown. If you Can't sleep is really good!
• The Mountain Goats - No Children is lyrically awesome. Actually, it's just awesome full stop. Really enviable writing.
  

with a dreamy far off look, and her nose stuck in a book...

I haven't been out of the house for two days. Usually I would find this depressing, but right now it's really rather wonderful. I've been watching LOTS and lots of House, as well as The Devil Wears Prada and Step Up (an awful film. Seriously.) Because none of these things are all that distracting, I've actually managed to get some work done. If I were to prioritise, I would do history coursework, followed by preparation for French speaking which falls a week tomorrow, then finish up my English coursework. Of course, my brain does not work in such a rational manner. I've been doing general English work, Wuthering Heights mostly. I've been colour-coding, note-taking, partaking in general literature-based merriment, the works. The exam isn't 'til mid June. I'm not really sure what I'm playing at, but some work, whether important or not is better than no work at all. Right?

I had everyone round here on Friday night which was nice. There was minimal vomit and I think the house actually turned out tidier after the party than before. This is because my friends are awesome. And really bizarrely tidy. My messiness is as mystifying to them as their urge to live in a clean, pleasant environment is to me. Minimalism has never really been my thing. What's the opposite? Squalor, or just plain mess? Either way, that's how I live my life. Anyway, it was really nice to see everyone. Equally, the next night, I had the pleasure of catching up with some old friends, including my ex-vicar Fiona and her husband Martin who had us all over for dinner. It was absolutely lovely despite the fact that we all seemed really tired due to holidays and hangovers.

It's time to lose weight for the summer. I don't like winter much but it does hold the advantage of being able to conceal rolls of fat beneath rolls of fabric. As soon as the snow melts and the gladiator sandals come out, there is no escape. I do this every year. Yo-yo? Me? We've acquired an archaic rowing machine from he who must not be named, which is a start. I may not lose weight, but my arms are now really manly. Score.

Everyone is breaking up. This is bad at the best of times, but I have unusually high levels of cynicism in my blood, so when there is a spate of break-ups like this, I climb further in my metaphorical (though not insignificant) bitter hole. People cheat, people get divorced, people die. I always thought Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella were wet. Esmerelda is awesome and beats up her future husband whom she chooses over the evil man who could ensure her safety. Belle strives to escape her "provincial life" by choosing an ugly guy over the town hottie. Mulan gains the gratitude of the emperor of frigging China! They all end up happy. Well, they all end up married. According to Disney, I'm pretty sure these two things are interchangeable. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, so I will summarize. Girls with principles and a strong will end up happy too. They do tend to be animated though...

nutella goes large...

I am excited about the impending election. This will come as no surprise, I'm sure, but it's true. There are posters everywhere, politicians all over the t.v and puns all over the internet. Mark Garnier, the local Tory candidate, knocked on our door yesterday. He was lovely... Bastard. I am not naive. I know the chances of us actually winning are not that great, but they exist. In the meantime, the pace picks up and the stakes are continuing to rise.

I wonder what it is that determines everyone's place on the political scale. I think parentage has a lot to do with it, whether complying with your parents' views, or dashing their hopes in a deliberate rebellion. My mother is pretty left wing. She would probably disown me if I voted Conservative, but I like to think I would be around the same point on the spectrum with or without her influence. I'm in the classic ' idealistic, lefty student' phase. I very much hope this will never end. After all, I intend to be a student forever and ever. I will do my degree, then go travelling, then do an MA, then go travelling, then do a PhD in something useless with imaginary funds. I will then marry a penniless writer and live in an oh-so-bohemian squat in Paris during which, I will surely continue in my lefty ways. See, I've got it all mapped out...

I have decided to go to Nottingham, with Warwick as my second choice because it's a slightly lower offer. This is a slightly odd decision. This means Spanish not Italian as my second language, which will obviously be more useful (as hoards of people have told me). Not that any of this matters. I WILL be going through clearing unless I get my arse in gear. Oh the joys of uncertainty...

They make REALLY big jars of Nutella. Mind. Blown.

Also, the Juno soundtrack is probably my favourite album. Buy it. It rocks my socks...

Is it weird that I find Laurie strangely attractive?

I've got back into House lately. It is Brilliant. Completely and utterly, wonderfully fantastic. I have a lot of it on DVD but really haven't watched much for a couple of years. The trouble is, once you watch one episode, it is really rather difficult to refrain from watching another. This tends to lead to a whole day completely wasted and with A-levels looming, I'm not really sure I can afford to waste days.

This holiday is awesome. Three whole weeks off, and so far it's sailing by nicely. I managed to haul myself down the road for the dawn service at five thirty(!) in the morning on Easter Sunday for the dawn service. Now, I have hardly been a consistent church-goer over the past couple of years, but it was really nice to be there. I love the dawn service and I haven't missed one for about five years, which I think is pretty impressive. The service is always long and serious with lots of readings and lots of dramatic pauses. I used to find it dull, but this year, perhaps because I barely go to church anymore, it was just good. I'm not being very articulate. As I get older, my faith seems to waver. I'm not saying I suddenly have reverted back to blind belief, but Easter is surely a time to think about all these things. So that's what I'm doing. Also, if you ever find yourself a bit sad, a half hour, moonlit walk at five o'clock, blasting Radiohead and dancing because there is nobody around to see it really sorts you out. Not that I did this. I was just, you know, saying...

I have just redrafted my second piece of History Coursework and now I intend to move on to English. FML.

Lazy saturday...

I should probably do something productive today. This does not class as productive, though it is probably better than sitting around watching 'Bananarama's Girlband Anthems' all day. Oh, wait. I'm doing that too...

I had a fun day yesterday hanging out chez Vaid and seeing his gorgeous 10 month old Indian/Columbian nephews. Now I am not really the baby type, but the twins are just adorable. They are called Kiran and Ishan and I'm pretty sure it would be impossible not to like them. The picture is of a stroppy Kiran (and was not taken yesterday. Sorry...).

Call me a cynic, but romance really is dead. In a bid to chat me up earlier today, someone I barely know thought it would be a good idea to commence proceedings with a simple sentence - "u am cute". My sarcastic, somewhat harsh reply seemed to land without much comprehension and the culprit continued to misjudge the situation; his remarks becoming more and more sleazy. With yet another snide remark, I blocked him fairly quickly. I will let it slide, and I will not go off on a massive rant, but do boys really think they will get what they want over Facebook chat? If so, this force of stupidity is not to be reckoned with. It is bigger than you and I. We are doomed.

I had said that I would decide which university to go to by Wednesday. This is a big fat lie. I am no closer to making a decision. It may happen eventually...