3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Graphics Tablet for me.

I do hope you all had a lovely Christmas, whether you were in Minnesota or India, and that Santa was goood to you etcetc! I certainly had a nice time, despite the lack of snow. :)

Just a quick blog post tonight, mainly because I would only like your opinion, even if you dont usually comment, on these:

Doodle 1
Doodle2

Let me explaaain. For my birthday this year, my mum and dad got me a graphics tablet which is SUCH a joy as I've been moaning about one for quite a while now. (I'm sure they got it just to shut me up :P) Soooo, I've been testing it out by drawing little pictures of people these past few hours and the two images above are the result. They're not that good, but not too bad. I do apologise to James and Mrs O'Neill though. :)Anyway, concrit would be greatfully recieved.

(PS, I didn't get any French Hens or Turtle Doves.)

Merry Christmas

Creative Writing?

"It was a crisp, winter's night just before midnight when she arrived unnoticed. The air was silent, save for the chill dancing in the trees, their skeletal branches rustling above her head as her hooded figure drifted quickly across the moonlight path by the river. They had been planning this for months, she thought to herself; every minor detail was catered for in her mind, every move, every noise, every step, everything was to go like clockwork. These thoughts repeated in her head as she made her way soundlessly along the path, slowing every so often to hesitantly listen to her surroundings. Once, near where the river widened, she stop completely and stood motionless in the shadows. Had she heard something? Could she see something hidden in the dense foliage on the river bank? This abrupt pause took no longer than a few seconds before the figure broke into a run, her feet pounding on the gravel path, the crunch resounding in the still air alongside her shallow breathing. The moonlight danced across her figure from behind tree branches and clouds, providing little light as it painted shapes on the the path and glistened on the river flowing beside her.

His presence was masked by the shadows of the building he was leant upon. He checked his watch, the small hands illuminated by the solitary light of a match- it was fast approaching midnight and yet he was still alone. Flicking the match onto the gravel at his feet, he sighed delving his hands into his pockets. With a mixture of curiosity and boredom, he felt the objects that lay within them. His grandmother had always said you could tell a lot about a man from the contents of his pockets; but then again, he though to himself, she was a crazy old dear. His thumb brushed against the rough box of matches, the twines of knotted string, and with male instinct, he couldn't resist jingling his keys. He wasn't altogether sure what his grandmother would have gathered about him from the three items in his pockets, but he knew it would be a different story with the contents of his backpack that lay by his feet. He sighed again, listening to the darkness that surrounded him with great interest. The echoes of a distant highway, the soft murmur of the stream bubbling by, the wail of a nearby alley cat.. they all drifted to his ears. But after a few moments his ears picked up the sound of footsteps upon gravel coming towards him. Footsteps, he knew, that belonged to whom he had been waiting in the shadows for. His fellow criminal's footsteps."

So yeh, me and James are criminal masterminds! But, no, really, I wrote this because I've been thinking a lot about Creative Writing these past few days and how its not really done in English when you get passed a certain level; I haven't done any since the hazy days of First Year and I think its a bit of a shame. I loved creative writing, not that I am/was good at it or anything, but because I love imagining things and depicting it through words. I think its something just about everyone can do -we do it everyday- and enjoy yet its not a major part of the curriculum (there is probably a good reason for this, do let me know what it is) It is a bit late just now, but I am going to look into this further; I got a bit carried away in my imagination above- I do apologise for a bit of a rambling post! :)

Miss Indecisive.

Don't you just hate it when people ask you the same questions over and over again, when the answer has been the same for years? Only this year have I noticed how many times I'm asked the same thing,usually by the same people, who just receive the same answer. Mum says its probably because I don't give a satisfying answer, but I feel like I'm living in Groundhog Day. It's really quite amusing sometimes.

FAQs of the week:
"So when's your birthday?"
-"Aren't you 16 yet?"
-"Looking forward to it?"
-"Doing anything nice?"
-"What do you want for your birthday?"
-"What do you want for your Christmas?"
-"Doesn't it suck having a birthday so close to Christmas?"
-"What do you want to do when you leave school?"
-"Don't you want to be a doctor?"

Generally, they come in that order and the answers are always the same. "Before Christmas. No. Spose. Dunno. No idea. No idea. Not really. No, I just like the NHS and medical things. What are you? Mr Flower?!" The thought of making up complex answers has toyed with my imagination for some time now. Sometimes I do succeed and they go like:

-"I'm not 16. I'm 15... 15 years and 360-odd days if your picky. If you want I can work it out in hours, let me fetch my calculator.."
-"I'm totally doing something nice! I'm going to a Lemon Curd factory to try my hand at record breaking lemon curd eating!"
-"Hmm.. What I really want for Christmas is you. No. Only joking. I really really want to go to The North Pole, Narnia or possibly Mars, but I'd settle for Mamma Mia in Glasgow."
-"Well. I want to be a Crash Test Dummy or a corpse in Casualty. Not fussy. Maybe even a BeeKeeper. Or Eddie Izzard's stylist. OH! I want to be a lolly-pop MAN. Yes, Man."


Sometimes its just easier to be irresolute. ;]

It Wont Be Long

Yeah yeah yeah!

The countdown to Christmas has shortened considerably since the last time I mentioned it, way back on 22nd of June.. (Yes only I could mention Christmas at such a time of year) and the urge to keep countdowns going in my head has also decreased. I have been keeping numerous dates ticking down inside my head over the past few weeks, the three most important ones being:

17 days to The Snowball. - (Not so chuffed.. Dresses. Hmph.)
19 days to Ones Birthday.
21 days to Christmas.

However, knowing how long it is to an event saddens me. Where I know that it is 21 days to Christmas, I also know that in 22 days time everything will be over. All the hype, all the excitement and cheer, will just be a "remember yesterday?" thing. It is, after all, only one special day of the year. This had made me think that maybe keeping tabs on time isn't such a good idea after all. The more you know, the shorter it seems to be.

I love this time of year- its the Pop Tart time of year: everything's all warm on the inside and all frosted on the outside. (Or maybe I'm just hungry..) December is too my favourite month, not only because my birthday and Christmas all come in the one weekend :) but because of how gorgeous this season makes everything. Even spiderwebs -something I'd rather class as yucky- turn fresh and decorative, bejeweled by the morning frost. Brightly coloured hats and scarves give a real sense of cheer, even if some are slightly garish and only represent the basic Stranraerian dependence on brightly coloured accessories.

This too gives me a real sense of time and how things have changed for the people around me. Thinking back I often lose myself in daydreams of what Christmas time was like for my parents as kids, and even my grandparents. As a child I loved hearing about the snow drifts that gripped our town in my grandads youth, where he was walking along the tops of hedges without knowing because the snow was so deep... Telling and listening to family stories, another part of Christmas we all love.

The mind wanders as to what this years Christmas will bring.