November 8th: Poshing it up with a bit of Backstreet Boys

If I can't live without you
Then I guess this is death
But breathing's so much easier
Having breathed my very last breath
If I can't see without you
I'm walking in the dark
But I couldn't see beside you
My once-ignited spark
If I'm alone without you
If this is solitude
At least I am not lonely
Alone is my new you
If I can't breathe without you
Though I'm struggling for air
My lungs fill much more freely
Is love beyond compare?

Just thought I'd share a bit of my other writing with you today. That's a poem called 'If I Can't Live Without You', written at some point last year, and I don't really know why I felt it was relevant to what's occuring with me right now because on the love front, my life is shamefully lacking. I suppose, though, that the poem refers to the cliches of love, the things that are expected of it, and at the moment there are a hell of a lot of un-romance-related things expected of me that may or may not be the right thing for me to do, and right now it's about finding out what I want from life and how to get it. The poem says "is love beyond compare?", asking if doing what's expected of a person is truly what makes them happy, and that's very relevant to everyone my age at the moment. Deciding whether to go to university and what to study there and what to do if you don't is a lifechanging choice, and I'm sure everyone can relate to that because there are certainly many choices to make throughout your life and many paths you have to choose whether or not to follow.

I can not believe I'm voluntarily analysing something. And something I've written at that. I should shut up now, before I ruin it for those of you who don't actually care about language in any way, shape or form (of which there are many). Okay. Seriously Molly. Zip it.

If this post makes no sense, it's because I'm listening to a bit of Medina right now... good old Danish music. (Even if you don't speak Danish, go listen to Vi To. It's awesome. My friend Zoë can vouch for that and neither of us speak Danish - though in my case, I'm working on that).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnegqiDPbg0

By the way, if you read this and I don't know that you read it (meaning if you're not Charlotte, Cora or Zoë), PLEASE leave me a comment! I've noticed my viewing stats rising... well, quite dramatically lately (which has made me indescribably happy), and I'd love to know who you are. Don't be afraid; I don't bite, I promise!

No vampires here.

(Charlotte, Cora and Zoë, I do also appreciate comments from you very much. I love receiving feedback on my crappy ramblings, so go ahead and finger those keyboards. ;))

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas has just started playing and I'm feeling alarmingly festive. This is not good. It's November the 8th, for heaven's sake. Still, only a month or so to go. On the subject of only a month or so to go, I realized recently that this blog was first set up nearly a year ago. I never thought I'd keep this up for this long! I mean, that was always the plan, but when I've tried to keep "diaries" before, they've lasted all of about... ooh, a week. Or less. Maybe a day or two. Anyway, the point still stands. That was the point of creating a blog in the first place though - my reasoning being that I spend so much time on the computer that maybe it would be easier for me to write here consistently than it would be on paper. And it seems to work! I'm glad, because even looking back on the first couple of posts reminds me of things I'd forgotten about... and how I've changed since then! That first post was one far too depressing to start a blog with - what an impression I must have given (though nobody read it back then, so maybe none of you knew what a grump I was then. But of course, now you're all going to go and read it. Honestly, it's a vicious circle. And to be honest, a hell of a lot of my blog posts now are equally depressing, only written in a wholly up-myself style. I'm not up-myself, I promise, it's just that writing is really the only thing I can do somewhat entertainingly, so can you blame me for wanting to posh it up a bit?)

And on that "poshing it up" note, I might take a moment to point out that the Backstreet Boys is currently playing on my phone. (Though I only downloaded it because I spoofed the song and I needed it to learn the timing. But still.) I don't care, as long as you love me.

And yes, you can see that this is where I decided on the name of today's post.

As soon as I got into English this morning, Hannah pounced on me (not literally, before you start imagining it) and said "I sent your UCAS last night!"

So, as far as I know, that's it. My application is now in the hands of UCAS itself and it's their job to (finally) pass it on to the universities so they can choose whether or not they're going to make my day (and an offer). Exciting stuff. I hope they get back to me soon and I hope I actually get a few offers... all five would be nice but I'm not holding my breath. My personal statement may be good but my grades are less than impressive, and there is - what else is new? - a crazily high number of applicants this year.

I was a right nerd in English today, coming top in our spontaneous test. Hannah was like "You're on fire today!", responding to my answer to a question with "Ooh, get you and your 'utterances'!" - and the thing about writing things like this here, things that happened throughout the day, is that everyone who knows me from college who reads this already knows. Hmm. It's ironic that people read your writing because they like it, but the more people read it, the more you try to change it to make it interesting for them, and they liked it originally. Having said that, I'm going to write another I-already-know-this thing for the people at college and say that Alex and I filmed our media stuff today at last. It's been such a hassle getting everyone together, especially as one person dropped out at the last minute yesterday (thankfully Hollie stepped in and she did a very good job) and we literally found our male character about an hour before we filmed by ambushing him in the canteen and begging him. On Wednesday we'll start editing it and I'm actually quite excited about seeing how it's going to turn out. Hannah-from-media came to Henley to help/watch as well, which was fun since I hadn't seen her since June as she goes to uni now.

Quick note just to say that today's Google image is quite interesting. 115th anniversary of the discovery of X-rays... interesting. I am, however, disgusted to see a capital letter on the "Anniversary" and "Discovery" when you hover your cursor over the image... seriously, Google? Incorrect capitalisation? Get a grip.

I can't look at that without thinking about Grey's Anatomy though, so I think I'd better give Becky and Charlotte a quick mention since that's currently their (Becky's) obsession. Now it's hard to know what she's more obsessed with - Grey's Anatomy or Gok Wan. She needs to get a life, though having been in the throes of an obsession that strong myself, I know she can't help leading every thought and conversation back to it. I do love her. ;)

Now I'd better stop writing here before I bore your faces off. Keep an eye out for the next time I descend upon you with irrelevant, boring and badly put (I blame the music I'm listening to - I never do have a coherent word output when I've got a word input to consider as well) information about my life. Toodlepip, knobs.

Molly x

P.S. Don't be offended that I called you a knob. It's my term of endearment. I sound like an idiot saying words like "sweetie" or "darling" so I use "knob" instead. Seriously, you should feel flattered. If I don't call you a knob, you're not my friend.