Panto Panic

I've had strangely busy week considering I had plans to do nothing. Well, except Panto rehearsal. On Monday I found myself driving up (I didn't actually do the driving) to Ayr to dump my sister on my other sister so they could go galavanting to the Hard Rock Cafe in Glasgow. We got decent Fish & Chips, went to Primark and ASDA. Just a few things I miss out whilst living in the Borders.

So I was sister free for like two days. On Tuesday, I actually did nothing, but it felt like I did something. It just not true. On Wedesday, it was my little brothers Birthday so that sort of family chaos. I also had a lunch thing with the Carer people. Apparently, they getting someone to just work with the Young Adult Carers. Right now we get lumped in with the adults but we like different.

On Thursday, I went into college for the last time this year to finish something and see about applying to this course. It turned out that my Personal Statement was already fine and I only actually need to say why I was applying. University Personal Statements on the other hand are nightmares and I look forward to writing one this summer as while filming that portfolio *brusts into tears*.  So I have now applied to college for next year and now I have "Advise Session" in February. Oh, what fun that sounds like *Rebrusts into tears*.

Everything else had been Panto related. Been in every night for rehearsal this week and tonight was the opening. So we had the first show, there some last minutes changes and issues. I messed up dances that I've never messed up before. We're doing Jack and Beanstalk this year. Its been an interesting experience so far. I will probably do it next year. Definitely doing the musical this spring which will be a fun and interesting experience as well.

I'm going to go now as I have to get up early to a show in the afternoon. See next week where I will be exhausted from 9 shows.

Annoyed Carer

I'm finally getting Carer's Allowance on Monday, frankly it took them long enough. Well, anyway I got a letter off them today about backtracking (or arrears). Guess what? Apparently, they don't own me anything since I've getting Jobseeker's allowance. Okay, I have two issues with this. One, Carer's Allowance is actually more than Jobseeker's, so they still own me 17.50 (Yes, I worked that out). Two, and probably most importantly, I have not been getting Jobseekers. In fact I've spent 6 weeks without any money till last week where I got Income Support. Also apparently if they did own me any money (which fucking obviously do) then it wouldn't be from when I got my last Job Seeker's payment as that was a Tuesday. So I miss a week because I wasn't born on a Monday. I know when to pick my battles so we leave that idiocy so I plan a tattle the own trying to get of paying me 6 weeks of money.  Can't even call the idiots till Monday so I have two days of rage.

I know some people would say that I've done nothing to earn that money, but they're idiots too. I'm meant to get Carer's Allowance because I'm a carer. I look after my mum and other family too I guess. I've probably said this on here before, basically I'm only in my house who healthfully. My little brother is, but he austisic and handfully. I'm probably not that good carer but once I'm finish with the Prince Trust course I'm going to do alot more.

So back to what I'd had plan to actually write about in this blog and keeping my orginal introduction. It doesn't quite work appearing in the middle of a blog post but I don't care.

This week was full of pain, paint, I meant paint. We were painting for our community project.
First we painted YMCA's toliets and then painted half of a room upstairs of YMCA. Of course, there momments were people brusted into song, a specific song. Also something that is apparently hilous when two boys trucked their shirts into itself displaying their stomachs and backs, then of course then "I want to break free" came on the radio. Someone record it on their phone as they painted the walls. I just don't get what was so funny about it. I mean if it had been two girls who trucked their shirts like that it wouldn't be considered humourious but girls being normal. 

We also went back to the community centre to plant flowers in a tire and paint lament flooring gold. We also decorated the hall for them for Halloween.

So Halloween is next Thursday which awesome. No major plans. Two pumpkins to crave and a bloody Red Riding Hood costume to wear. Also start Panto rehearsals on Monday. Never done a Panto before, should be interesting.

Well, that all for this week, join me where I be spending alot time in the Library.

Donating Blood and Guts

Hi, so I gave Blood two weeks (which I would have wrote about then if The Daily Mail & my brother hadn't annoyed me, but enough about them). It was actually a bit of a failure. It was all going well, my haemoglobin (iron in your blood) was fine, I've had issues in the past. However, half way through actually giving blood, the flow just stopped and refused to start again. I was rather annoyed with my vein idea of rebel. They have other uses for it , but they couldn't use as a transfer (I like to think they give the failures to the vampires because its doesn't matter to them) is obviously a shame especially since I'm O negative a.k.a The God of the Blood Types. Well, when giving blood in questions since they can give it to any one without fear of rejection (that might be the wrong word, stills fits though). So basically, its very important that I give blood and anyone who has that blood group.

Funny fact, half my family have that blood group but there can't give blood due to medical reasons.

I think my left arm doesn't like giving blood, because the last two times its missed behaved, so I'm just going to use my right time and jug down water before I go next time in April.

There is currently this horrible campaign (horrible because they're using the Hollyoaks cast) to get new young donors in. They want a 1000 which is kinda terrible considering Britain has a estimated population of 60.9 million. Obviously, not everyone will be able to give blood and some will already give blood. But in Scotland only 5% of the population ( 5,254,800 according to google) give blood. Thats petty terrible.

It probably only takes 45 minutes at the max to give blood (and this is with waiting to been seen) and only once every three months (or six cause some people's haemoglobin doesn't recover in that quick).

Frankly, they guilt me something awful since I started giving blood. They gave me a gold card, after I had only donated four times that was weird. I kinda feel silly with it. Also a Christmas card with a joke about my blood time.

I'm also registered Organ Donor because frankly hypercritical not to be. I have a sibling who received a kidney transplant. Also I believe if I died suddenly  and they're able to make use of my organs after I have no use for them. Then go a head. (By the way, that is not permission for any one to dig me up and steal my body/organs).

I guess with my ill sibling, I've always been conscious of the whole donating things. I started donating blood as soon as I was seventeen. 45 minutes of my time could mean someone's life. SO DONATE DAMN IT!!! Because someday a blood transfer might save your life and then you'd never be able to return the favour.

So two rants in a row in a way, neither greatly constructed but there've got to better than my random "I have literally nothing to talk about posts. So basically I'm actually going to my much older sister's  (Well, she is 30 today LOL Happy Birthday loser) Birthday party tonight meaning this was pre-written (its Monday). I think I am going to try and write my Saturday posts before Saturday so they actually up on Saturday (what the hell, heres another SATURDAY).

So See you next week, I'm probably on my way up North or getting ready to go by now.

The Possible Reason Behind my Book Sprees

I had realisation last night while watching Booktube videos.

I buy books out stress and avoidance.

During my exam study leave, I spent a good lot of my time on ebay looking for cheap/collections of Point Horrors. I did want those books, but I should have seriously been studying for my exams (which I now know to have been pointless).

This past month I have had this sort of panic about my life. I know what I want to do. I want to be a writer. But I know, well I'm not big headed to think that I'll be set for life if  I manage to become published. It would be lovely to be able to live off my writing.

Back to the point of the Sprees.

While I love books, I can be rather irresponsible with my buying. I've picked books over food.I also bluntly have lots of books of different genres, frankly I probably have more YA than my local library, in theory I don't need anymore books.

I just love books. I like being around them. Even not reading them they're something nice about just being around a large number of books. They're a comfort.

Books allowed you to escape your problems by hearing about someone elses and how they solve/deal with them.

And for what ever reason just hearing about and acquiring books makes me feel better. I didn't even notice it till now.

Yeah, that one theory as to why I've bought so many this month.

Exams and No Longer Young (Carer)

So I got my exam results and I failed everything.

Okay, that's not true, but I wanted the opportunity to lie about my exam results since I was not able to do the fake in real life. Because my parents knew my results before me.  Thanks MySQA, though it is sort of my vault since I should have change the phone number. Basically, my father and I swapped sim cards therefore phone numbers. Having signed up for MySQA  last year and never changing the number. My dad (who never uses his phone) got a text message that contend my exam results. He open it, then went on to tell my mother and after I told them I don't want to know, they told me.

So you're thinking this is where I'm going to tell you, but I'm not since I'm trying to build tension. Though, probably quite badly. So my results went like this.

Higher Biology- B
Higher English- B
Higher Maths- B

To see me opening the Result letter go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZglF2qQb3iI&feature=plcp

Not that impressive and my mother persistence that it is, is just rather annoying. I have five Highers at B grade, but that's over 3 years which works out as being average of 1.6667 per year. Not at all impressive. No matter how good the sob story most universities will look at my grades and straight up reject me. Even if I had got five Bs in one year, that not good enough either. They want As. My mother doesn't understand that. They basically nothing I can with my Highers when it comes to Uni.

Glad I got a B in English since it was some what in doubt if I would get it.

Other big news of the week is that I'm no longer a Young Carer apparently. I knew you were old once you hit 19, mum lied to me. What I really mean is that I'm no longer part of the YC group. I went on day trip with them on Tuesday which I like to refer as Three Bs, Three bike falls day, since I got my results and fell of a mountain bike three times. I like the Lazer tag, though painballs would have made it more extreme. Rest of was just bah and pain.

I basically fell off a mountain bike at speed three times. Hurting myself the worse the last time. Yay for bruises. It does actually hurt to walk and I also think I might have done something to my knee that only coming out to play today. I did scape my arms a bite and I bruised my palms.

I've got to say I'm loving the patterns. I feel crazy art brewing.

On Thursday, had my last one to one meeting thing with my (former) link...support...something worker... Yeah, no longer young carer, so I take that means I can go around saying I'm auld.

So this week has just me feeling old and sore. The future looks so bright right now.

Being Brave because you exist

Been randomly thinking about the situations we find ourselves in. I personally like to moan about my situation (a.k.a dyslexic writer and having constant unexplained pain) because it frankly occupies a lot of my mind. Though, complaining is my hobby, I am overly aware that things could be worse. Yay. Having met/came across many people who are in "difficult", unusual situations I have quite a view of this.

A thing that does bug me about our society is that we make heroes of the disabled and ill. Or anyone whose had a hard time and not just lie down and died. I'm not saying that's a bad thing necessary, but it can be annoying if someone acts as if it a miracle that you've managed to keep going. It almost as frustrating when people don't appreciate that you can't always be expected to follow the same rules as everyone else.

For example, being dyslexic it very unlikely you're be the world's best speller OR being a Young Carer its unlikely you're be at school every day or on time since things come up.

In my six years at my current school, my parents and I had to explain this basically every year when they started moaning about my attendance. Nothing had changed at home (for the better) so why would that?

I think there's whole lack of understanding, so you get people who think they're helping, being supportive and people who don't care to think. I think especially when you're born with something, or had to put up with it almost you're whole life you stop really noticing or not at all. Hospitals can be normal, pain daily life. It’s kind of like the whole don't know what you're missing thing. You've never experienced "normal", so you don't know what it’s like. Sure, you have the fantasy version and wonder "why you can't be like everyone else?".

When you have things thrust upon you, you either deal with it best you can or go hide in a cupboard of denial and self-pity. Often people need time to adjust and will eventually come out the cupboard. Maybe even go back in sometimes.

You're shouldn't tell people how they're feel. It isn't really brave to deal with situation you’ve had no choice over it; you didn't choose to run into the burning building of life to save yourself. You're frankly had to.

Most people will end up sitting in building that's burning, until till they do, they won't understand why you're just covered in ash and not the ash yourself.

P.S. Not really sure where this came from, I’m not really in one of those situations consider brave, but I do have a sibling that sort of is. I never really understood the whole “Brave” view people took. Some people will possibly strongly disagree with me over this.

Last Parents' Evening. Also Braces go Bye Bye

On this previous Tuesday, at 4 past seven, I arrived at what will definitely be my last parents' evening, well until I become a parent or teacher (lol). Last year's was in November and at that point I had no real idea I would be repeating, that should have been my last. Don't remember much, just telling my English teacher at the time that I didn't like Shakespeare which she may not have directly said it, but she was appalled by this. Briefly went on how about how great he was, how so many experts love him and such nonsense. I still think he's an English Git who wrote the first Emo romance and is a history ignoring Bastard. I don't think my opinion of him is ever going to change. 
This year one was much more positive really and I'm in a much better place to pass. My mother and I arrived late for our first appointment. It was meant to be with my maths teacher, then English and Biology last. It of course didn't work out that way. Of all my parents' evenings, never once have we followed the appointment order. Frankly, no one really expects to. Making appointments just confirms that your parents will turn up at some point during the event, usually well after your appointment was meant to be.
 We first talk to my maths teacher at 7.10 slot instead of the intend 7.00. My maths teacher basically confirmed what I already knew. She said that I hold a better understanding of the course, though she also once said that you're don't to know why it works, just do (roughly along those lines). I told her I thought I had the potential for a B (leaving my A notion to myself) and she agreed with this estimation. She also said how my homework didn't always reflect my capable and I let myself down with this. My mother and I had brief discussion how my little brother had been playing up that week and that was my excuse for the last HW not being completely finished. I also shared with her my current revision plan of coping my notes; I personally I think this will help with the Objective Testing part of the exam. I mainly got from it that I have to ask for help. So the same as last year.
Shockingly, we actually saw my Biology teacher at the scheduled time of 7.20pm. As usual, it was the best out of them all. She said about how I got a B in my Prelim and how I could easily get an A. She said I had clearly been revising this year, I just smiled. Yes, I have revised more this year, but in honesty, Biology is kinda left at the side lines mostly.

Leaving the worst for last: English

It’s the most frustrating, it mocks me. I want to be a writer and I read all the time, but it’s my worst subject. It’s also the only subject I really need to pursue Illustration, haven't decided yet. I need a B, all my other subjects I'm getting that. So after waiting for about twenty minutes to see my English teacher, she  somehow turned my incredible failure of a prelim into a C grade and leaves me feeling rather positive. She basically said how my Prelim didn't reflect my ability as I did much better in class/HW. She said maybe it was scribe (I'm Dyslexic and I get extra time and scribe in all my necessary exams); I told her it wasn't and that I wouldn't feel conformable doing it myself on the actual exam with my tenancy to miss out words and writing nonsense when stressed. I told her I had only been reading for roughly seven years, my mother and her preceded to go about it taking me longer isn't that surprising. She said I would probably have to retake English to get that B. Also how good my folio was and that she enjoyed my short story. When I said I did read a lot, she said she knew, she could tell by vocabulary.

To end the blog, just want to say that I'll be getting my braces off this Monday. Goodbye being a walking Grater and I'll be able to run my tongue over my teeth again. I only have my weak eyes to go with my geek chic.

I'm so very different from them More like Walking Cliché

This may be a weird notion, but the thought came to me this week, while I was laying about. Am I cliché? I strive so much to be different, be weird and consider odd by the outside world. Does this in fact make me a cliché?

I'm a "Torment Soul" (according to most people I must think my parents don't love as much as my sick siblings or give me enough attention. They love me fine, thank you very much and I don't want them playing enough attention to notice the bodies) with a difficult and complex background who escapes into the world of art, music and books. I want, have wanted to be a writer from a young age and always associated myself as being a goth with my love of horror and the macabre. I have few, almost seemly non-existent at school friends. Frankly, I can be quite the loner and go happy for days without any proper human contract.  Black is my main colour choice in most style choices with the usual splash of red or purple. I consider Midnight blue to be one of my favourite colours.

But does this all not make me the cliché odd girl sitting in the corner with a book? Sure, I'm only person in my school that matches all the above description, however, my school, my town, my contract with the world outside -unreachable from- my room is very, very small. Within the context of my family, six siblings and all; including my extended family I'm the weird one with my ever-changing-multicolour hair that goes well past my shoulders (actually it slightly goes past my bellybutton). Does that really make special, unique?

 Am I just a big hypocrite?

I do just want to be me, I don't try to be different from everyone. I've just always accept my own weirdness, I've basically been like since I was four years old, before I even known social norms. I don't believe in, refuse to change for anyone. Its just been bugging me recently. Does it really matter anyway?

What's normal anyho?

Typewriter fun - My Dedication of Love to the Past of Writing

Haló, I'm now the proud owner of a Olympia SM9 typewriter. 

Isn't she beautiful?

I've got to say that while I love having this machine, the amount I'll actually use it is to be determined. Its in complete working order and I've have so far used to write nonsenical letters and the opening of a story idea, that is frankly quite confusing so far. I plan to write a horror story and see if it comes true. You know like in that Goosebumps book/episode "The Blob That Ate Everyone", I guess the boy is exactly like me. I love writing horror stories and I have a working computer and going to be getting my own laptop soon which was confirmed the same day as I got the typewriter. I actually brought the typewriter out of a charity shop, Caring for Carers, which money goes partly to the same charity thats giving me money towards a laptop. £15 to help others. 
I've wanted a typewriter for a while, for sentimental reasons really. All those great works that have been typed out on a typewriter, basically since the late 19th century. Also think I'm less likely to get distracted typing on a typewriter than if I was using a laptop/computer. It also might improve my typing as I won't have room to make mistakes. I actually seem to making more typing mistakes on my keyboard than I do on my typewriter as writing this.
I think I would like to at less write one chapter of every book I ever write on a typewriter, though I need to write a book first. 


Also why would a typewriter made in 1971 need a "at" symbol? Is two letter word too long to write every time, its not like "at" is used in most sentences. @?

The Joys of Dyslexia, Being a Young Carer and... Selective Mutism

I've known I have had Dyslexia since I was in Primary 4 (8 years old) and my mother was sure since Primary 2. Though, I never truly knew what it meant and for years I thought they were wrong since the letters didn't dance for me. No one had properly explained to me what it meant and what the symptoms were. When I finally look up the disorder, I realise it was obvious that I had it. I realise that the way my brain absorbed information and functioned as whole was what made me dyslexic or "Special". While I have over came the hurdle of reading (Though, I've gave up on the hurdles in PE), there will be stuff that probably will be issue for me for the rest of my life. I still have trouble telling the pasting of time; I'm incredibly clumsy and can't catch to save myself; I still to check my writing hand when some tells me to go left and I can't pronounce my favouritely, long words which is a pain in both Biology and English when I'm trying to show off. I also lean to the right and make contract with the wall often.
However, I can live with all this and having to always to double, double check my writing work. I have a whole bag of tricks to help me along. There are worse thing, even if it is tad ironic being Dyslexic Writer.
(For more information about the symptoms of Dylexia, this is a really good website: http://www.dyslexia.com/library/symptoms.htm)

Even within my own family, they are those who have things worse. I'm also one of the many Young Carers in Britain/World. I did have a had time accepting this since in my case things ain't at extremes and my story would never be Children in Need heart string pulling clip. I deal more with the emotional side and not having the same freedoms as other people my age. My mother, sister and little brother/nephew are all  disabled, but in almost completely different ways. My sister has been fighting for her whole life, having been born with non-functioning Kidneys. She was given mere weeks to live, but 20 years later she still around to argue with me and kick me off the computer (which is currently in her room). Yeah, we love each other and as close as can be.
She got a transplant when she was 4, but that's never the end of the story. She been on the blink of death and been times where she in & out the hospital for months. Though, she is thankfully, currently healthy. My mum is basically crippled and doesn't have a lot of energy anymore which makes my little brother being Autistic even more of a challenge, He can easily kick off and being around him almost always ends in a bruise. He does have his moments of loving behaviour.
As I said I'm not depended on too much and like most teenagers I could probably pull my weight more. My excuse is how stressfully exams and school is. I know, weak. Lucky enough, I'm getting support from the Princess Trust. It nice having to talk someone outside the family and without worrying about their reaction or feeling guilty about complaining.

I've also learn (it likely) I have Selective Mutism. This basically accounts for my trouble speaking at school and unfamiliar places. I basically speak fine when I'm comfortable within my situation and the people I'm with. For years my family and I, just thought I was extremely shy with people. I'm quite comfortable standing out from a crowd; for example having multi-coloured hair and wearing standout clothes...etc. I also like to perform and love singing (badly) in public. Finding out about Selective Mutism and that joke I'm mute has a line of truth could really improve things for me in school. Hopefully, it could mean teachers don't make such a big deal about me not responding to them. Having a name for something that just sounds nonsenical when I try to explain to people, about why I don't respond or talk to people, will be so much easier than just saying I can't/couldn't.

So basically, that what makes me a "Special" in the eyes of the school system and what I do my best to cope with. It does bring me down sometimes and I have fought with depression in the last year even, which was just so bad for my family. I'm still consider myself to be lucky and after all just breathing is a miracle.

Okay, that just too corny to end with. BOO!