Being Examined Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

And as if the first week properly back from uni isn't enough to make you squirm in your seat, there's always the added dilemma of exams to revise for and presentations to prepare.

This is what this week is all about, and it's only Tuesday.

Yesterday the first essay of this side of the year was due in. This essay was the complete and utter death of me. How do you write 3000 words on how the police have become politicised specifically by the modern dilemmas of public order policing?  Such a stupid question. But I'd picked it, and there was no turning back.

Today was exam number one of 2011. Train Wreck are the most favourable two words I can think of.
That and Apocalypse-esque Catastrophe. It may be dramatic, but I don't feel especially confident.
Then again I've found that whenever you do feel confident you usually haven't done as well as you hope you have.

So the week or terror is upon me.

I am being a little over dramatic, I'll admit.
But what's the fun in being boring.. How would 'the week of a couple of  presentations, an exam, and an essay and then its over' grab you? It wouldn't. Plus that doesn't sound too bad either. But it really really is.

I can never understand the people who don't get nervous about exams, essays or presentations. They 've got to be either ridiculously confident about their abilities or completely unable to feel anything remotely like worry.
My friend was one of these. He said that he never got nervous because he didn't care. I bet he did care though. When he got good marks he sure cared..
Yes.. anyway, yeah, I don't get it. Surely everyone gets a bit funny about these things. Maybe only a little bit, or maybe so much its a phobia. But I'm sure we do.

Personally, the most nervous I get is in presentations. On the outside I try to look as comfortable and confident as I possibly can but on the inside my insides have turned to jelly, my brain to mush and my heart is hammering like a ... a really fast drum. That will do.  I do manage it though. Far better than I used to. (Although I owe that at least in part to the hypnotherapy I've been getting, it seems to have worked for me).

You know some people are really stressed most of the time? I don't think I could do that. I'm stressed now and it's making me ill. Seriously. I couldn't eat much today. Which is exceptionally weird because i utterly love my food. Whatever form its in. Love it. But today I tried to eat a butterscotch pudding and just felt sick. Horrible.

On the up side, after this week its seminars and lectures as usual and the possibility of Mondays and Fridays off. :D

The American Revelation.

I may have said this before, but I adore the USA.
So when I had the chance to go to Washington DC I absolutely had to go. (Not only for the amazing Criminology experience, but because I wanted to see if at least just one small part of America lived up to my expectations. Let me tell you, it completely exceeded it.)


Ted Bundys car. Creepy.



Of course, I went to all of my crime things; Institute of Justice, George Mason University, The Pentagon (I know! That was very very exciting :D.. And nerve-wracking), the National Crime and Punishment Museum. Which were awesome.. and the Crime and Punishment museum had Ted Bundy's car in it. (He's a favourite serial killer- I think it's OK to have a favourite only because I do Criminology and because he was very interesting.)

Then did all the tourist areas - The Washington monument (Which is astonishingly huge. Seriously.. why does everything have to be so huge in the US.. not that I'm complaining at all, it was amazing, but in England things aren't nearly so high.

A few of the Smithsonian buildings: Air and Space, American History and Indian American. Which was amazing. Except for that I was just waiting for things to come to life a la 'Night at the Museum 2'.
The Lincoln Memorial (Also ginormous) The Reflecting pool, the White House (where we chatted to some very friendly policemen who told us how many rooms there were in it. It's something completely crazy, I can't remember the number), The World War Two Memorial, The Viet Nam Memorial.


Washington Monument with Sun

We did so much in the space of a week, but I wish we had stayed for far longer. And the weather was beautiful, which was very strange seeing as it was November.

But the thing I was most impressed with, and what touched me the most, was the obvious pride in their country, the friendliness, the compassion and the expression of freedom and joyfulness. The blatant patriotism was astounding. It was also beautiful.

In America the flag flies proudly at every street corner, whereas in England you'd probably be told to take our flag down because it was offending someone who wasn't British.

NBA match

I think something that I most enjoyed was going to an NBA Basketball game in the Verizon Center.  It was amazing. So much entertainment and good spirited competition. Singing the national anthem at the beginning is something that I've never experienced. I've seen some football games and other games, but none of the English matches I've seen have ever been so.. friendly I guess.

I think friendly is definitely the right word to describe the USA. It was lovely. People asked if you looked a little lost, chatted to you on the metro, said good morning in the hotel. In England that would never happen. On the tube nobody talks to anyone. It's like an unsaid rule. And usually you'd have to ask if you didn't know where to go. Of course there are some people out there who do say 'hi', have chats with you and ask if you're OK, but it's just not the same.

Chinese in a box! (Exciting, oddly)

Also I got to sample some of the cuisine. Went to a diner (of which there were surprisingly, and upsettingly few) and had a burger. Had a Hot dog at the NBA game. Some mini corn dogs at the bowling alley (which were strange, nice, but a little sickly after a while) and had a snow cone (which was lovely in the middle of an oddly hot day.) And had Chinese in a box. Yay!

The only thing that I'd say was bad was the tax. As it's added on as you buy it, rather than already added on. So I'd already got out the right amount of money most times, when I then realised I would have to get out more because I'd forgotten about the tax. So that was a little annoying.

The White House

And the streets were confusing too. We'd walk down the end of one block only to find that we'd gone the wrong way down the street, so had to turn around and walk the other way. Of course it was fine after a week. By then we'd gotten used to it. But It's much easier when all the roads look completely different.
The worst thing was going back. Knowing that work had to be in, and that the holiday was over.
And although it feels nice to be in a place that I know, I can't wait to go back and explore more of America.

Christmas Time: Mistletoe and Wine.

It's almost Christmas.
And I love it.

I'm a bit of a Chrismas lover. Every Christmas, as soon as I hear the first Christmas song, I start to get excited. (Which is usually sometime in November.. so I start early).
I just love everything to do with Christmas.

First there's the songs and decorations around the shops. Christmas trees , cards and tinsel filling shop windows. There's always a need to go out and buy things. Some tinsel there, a bauble here, a small Christmas tree for my room..

Then there's the Christmas Markets. The German Markets. Always a favourite. Stand outside, possibly in the snow cradling a Kinderwein and a Bratwurst, wearing a big scarf, woolly gloves and a silly hat: my idea of heaven. (Although better when it's indoors next to a log fire I'd assume).

The snow. Can't get enough of it. It just looks so beautiful lying out there untouched, highlighting branches on the trees, an icicle hanging down. A blanket of white on a thatched roof. Snowflakes melting on your nose. Not to mention going out there and crunching through it, scooping up a snowball or two, or three.

Reading a book by a log fire, heating up your toes on the radiator (or by the fire, but we don't have a fireplace anymore). Then going up in the attic and hauling down the tree, the lights, the baubles, the tinsel. And tree decorating. There's always that feeling of joy and satisfaction when you put the star/angel on top.

Then it gets closer to Christmas, cards and presents are being given and received. Put under the tree or around the house for everyone to see. Picturesque landscapes scattered on the windowsill.

It gets even more festive once the local panto/nativity has been talked about or done. The Royal variety show is on TV. you're dancing around the house/shops to your favourite Christmas songs.
Then the days are upon you. Christmas Eve. There's always something delicious cooking. The presents are as yet untouched, but you really want to open one. Maybe a sneak peek, or a subtle shake of one. Sounds like chocolate. Looks like a book.
Everyone watches London burst into fireworks and the day is finally here. With any luck, it's snowing. But this is England after all, so most likely rain. You then proceed to drink the night away.
The next morning someone jumps on you/you jump on someone (Yes, that may be me this year) and excitedly yell 'PRESENTS!'. So everyone groggily gets up, someone complains of a banging headache, and everyone tears into their presents.

Then its usually time to visit the family. For me, this involves a lot of drinking, food and board games. And much fun ensues. Usually someone gets a little too tiddly. Although other families can be scrooges (and we deeply resent that people can be scrooges). More chatter, more alcohol. Perfect.

By boxing day you've got a full belly, a dodgy voice box and a small headache.
And usually more family to visit.
But there's always the added benefit that you can still catch someone under the mistletoe. ;)

Wedded Bliss, or Wedded Blitz?

(Just to note, I have had inspiration from another Blog, thank you again Ed :D )
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 Every time there's a wedding show on TV. Whether it be Wedding House, Four Weddings or Don't Tell The Bride. It stirs up a few ideas with me.

One of the first few things I think of is: 'how the heck did they gather that amount of money for a wedding?', and another is wondering why people are so obsessed with having a completely perfect day.
Because the odds are that something will go wrong.
And usually, it does.
And mostly, the bride makes a massive fuss about it. Could be the cake, the dress, the flowers- it doesn't matter. It may be small or large but a huge uproar will be caused because of it.

I quite abhor fairytale weddings.
A huge fluffy meringue dress? No thanks.
Pink bows, flowers, bridesmaids? Definitely not.
I think maybe the fact that pink isn't my colour, combined with the fact that you won't be able to walk down the aisle, much less dance with your groom, even less than that, go for a pee, really puts me off.

To be honest, I was never really one of those girls that dreams about her wedding. Sure, there's been a bit of thought here and there, especially after watching some ghastly weddings on television. But hasn't practically everybody?

I'd be more concerned with the act of commitment and showing that you love this person. You're going to have to live with them and have children with them after all. (Another thing I'm not entirely fond of at the moment). And maybe the dress. I'd have to choose it. I'd have to feel satisfied that it's right for me.

But instead of taking over the whole wedding and being the typical 'bridezilla', I think I'd much rather talk everything through with the husband-to-be. It is his wedding too after all.
(Then perhaps if it did turn out to be a complete catastrophe, the blame would be equally shared.)

(All images from Google)

Saying this, I may also have to choose the cake. My passion for cakes (eating them, not making them) is an awe-inspiring thing.

I've always found it hard to think about the future, especially in relationships. I'm just one of those people who leaves things like decisions and revision (among other things) more to the last minute. So I assume I'd be scared as hell to actually get married. And stricken if or when someone popped the question.

It's all a bit final.

Although I've always thought that if I did happen to get married, then it would be to someone who I truly loved, when the time was right, and if I felt 100% sure that that was what I wanted.
But absolute perfection, unlike so many other brides (especially on television), would be the last thing I would want on my wedding day.

I guess despite everything I may be a bit of a romantic at heart.

Why what happens in clubs should stay in clubs.

Don't you find that when you go out sometimes the oddest things happen to you? It's more likely when you're only with a few people, or with people you barely know, or just in a weird place.

This happened to me a while ago. It was the strangest night out I have ever been on.
I shall tell you part of the chain of events.

Firstly I must tell you a particular highlight: There was a very drunken girl whom me and my friend managed to convince (exceedingly easily) that we were lesbians. She then proceeded to call us her 'lesbian vagina friends'.

That was weird.

Then there was the two marriage proposals my friends had. Two. That's one each. One was a random guy in a club that asked my friend to marry him, and then he tried to kiss her. He got her eye. We swiftly intervened.

The other was in the kebab shop afterwards (where we bought a reeeally good pizza, which was probably utterly crap when you're not completely slaughtered). This guy told my other friend that she would go on to marry a.. oh, what was it... ah, that's it.. a snob. (Because she wasn't going to marry him). I don't even think he was drunk.

(I'm still debating whether it's a good or bad thing that I didn't get a marriage proposal... Despite me being the only single one at the time. I think the conclusion is that I'm either exceptionally lucky, or the average one. I'm going to go with the first option.)

In fact, the other day when me and my sister went out with some friends from uni, she was the one who was being chatted up (badly) by a very drunk guy. I wasn't. I'm pretty sure my dear boyfriend would find this very comforting. Even more so because I actually very rarely am approached by men when out clubbing.

Which used to be a little, you know, upsetting I guess, but now I'm glad really. Mainly because most I would assume are likely to be:
A) About to be sick on you
B) Cocky and have a unique ability to make a person feel exceedingly uncomfortable
C) Just plain weird.

So, to finish this blog that I started quite a while ago, nights out can be really very weird. My best advice I can give you is to brush up on self defence techniques and become an expert at avoiding creepy people.

Katy Perry made a good point.

Following on from another post that was made (not by me, but by Ed), I wondered about the answer to that age-old question... 'Would you rather die in Fire or Ice?'. 

Yes, perhaps a little morbid.
Maybe instead: 'Would you rather be really cold, or really hot?'.

I decided that personally, I'd rather be really cold, because at least then you would be able to put more clothes on if you needed to.
You cant exactly escape heat.

But with the cold you can wrap yourself up from head to toe in a warm, snuggly man errr... blanket/jumper and sit in front of a nice big fire.
And read a book in front of it.
Sounds like heaven.

Back to the topic at hand. Being really hot would be horrible. You'd want to take off all your clothes and you'd be uncontrollably sweaty.
Whilst this sounds like something that may be not be seen as bad, it wouldn't be great. Mainly because the thought of another stupidly hot body anywhere near you at that kind of heat would send you spiralling into fits of panic.

Although, being extremely cold also has it's downfalls. We can't forget hypothermia, incessant dribbly noses (possibly turning into icicles), not to mention frostbitten hands and feet. And then, even in a smaller amount of cold, a nose that feels as if it's going to drop off with cold, and ears that hurt through the iciness.
I wouldn't be happy.

Perhaps that leaves me undecided.

Although I guess the real question would be: Would you rather have snow outside, but be sitting in your living room, fire ablaze, reading a good book and nursing a cup of tea/hot chocolate (Or if you're a little odd like me, warm Ribena) OR sun-bathing, scantily clad on a white beach somewhere with a pina colada and pine trees swaying in a warm breeze?

The Ink-lination to Tattoo.

When I realised i hadn't blogged about tattoos yet, I was quite taken aback, its something that I'm fond of. I have four of them myself. So yes, this blog may be particularly biased, but I'll try to make it as balanced as I can.

Tattooing, according to Wikipedia (yes, I know it's an awful source of information, but it'll do) ,apparently dates back to Ötzi the Iceman (That link is to the Wikipedia page) in around the fourth to fifth millennium BC.
That's pretty far back.
It's been speculated that tattoos were used in many different ways in the past. As signs to ward off evil or bring luck, as a form of medical treatment, for aesthetic purposes of course, or as a form of identification. Wikipedia lists some very interesting uses, and there is a whole history and mine of information on this page: Wikipedia-Tattoo.

Of course, even with their growing popularity tattoos are still seen as negative by many people. This could have many reasons. Ranging to religion, links to serious organised crime gangs and the fact that some tattoos are just plain weird.

Mostly I'd like to point out that although I think tattoos (mostly) look gorgeous, and can mean many different and amazing things (although sometimes are literally only for show) , there is always going to be a health risk with them.
Although to be honest, only if you don't look after it properly. (Such as infections etc) Also, i would recommend only going to reputable tattoo artists with sterile studios. Please make sure of this, because there are severe health risks (such as HIV and other blood-transferable nasties) if you do not.

Enough with the bad things.

Now for the good, and the weird, as I'd like to show you a particularly odd person. Apparently, this guy holds the world record for 'Most Body Modifications'. I think somehow you can tell.



Meet Cat-Man. (Or, as he prefers it, Stalking Cat)

A very odd looking guy. But awesome if you're really really really into cats.  Here's a Daily Mail article on him if you're thinking just the picture is weird and/or if you're morbidly fascinated.

Yes, so, the good part.
Well, I think tattoos are beautiful, as is well known. I have a phoenix on my back, an ivy leaf on my wrist, flowers and bugs on my foot and three circles on the back of my neck. All mean a lot to me, they all are symbols that stand for things that I hold dear to me. I think that's why people should have tattoos, to show themselves on the outside. :)
Here's my phoenix just after it was done:

Before you ask, yes, it was painful, but it was well worth it. (And my foot hurt the most).



Of course, there are other forms of tattoos that are not permanent, and I would fully recommend these ones if you are particularly changeable.
These can be ones such as Temporary adhesive tattoos (the ones found in shops, which can be quite pretty, and equally child-like, but great if you're dressing up as a fairy and want butterfly transfers). Or Henna tattoos, although if you dye your hair, I'm pretty sure most hair dyes say to be careful if you've ever had a Henna tattoo. I have no idea why.
Also there are airbrush ones.

To end, yes, I did take up a stupid amount of time trying to make a witty title, only to fail horrendously. :)

The Horror Of The Second-Year Halls.

Side note: The title kind of sounds like a really crappy novel doesn't it?
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 Moving into halls for the second time may just be... dare i say it... even worse than the first time. At least then it's a novelty. You're a bright eyed, bushy tailed student, free and independent probably for the first time in your life, and ready to paint the town red. This is how exuberant first-years are. No matter their age.

Now compare that to second years. The novelty has well and truly worn off. Now all you're thinking about is what stupid time the fire alarm will go off at. (For example, about half past 8 this morning. I was asleep at the time. Not a happy bunny.) And, as with all students, probably dreading the first 'fun-filled' lecture of the year.

At least the second and third years in my halls are well past what could be called 'the honeymoon period'. All we want now is a quieter life, a small amount work-oriented, and in my case an early night every once in a while.

But before you embark on the weird and wonderful journey of second-year halls, you've got to move your belongings in. Depending how many willing slaves ... ahem... volunteers you have, this may take a while. Because unpacking a long and perilous (and potentially angst-ridden) business.

Luckily, we have volunteering uni students from my uni to help with this kind of thing. (I.e: Show you where everything is and help move boxes, and then help you around the campus generally.) So, I had a rather large band of merry helpers to do my bidding.
Other universities, however, don't offer this luxurious service of your own private moving-in army. I feel extremely sorry for these people. Especially if, like some people in my halls, they've brought a bench-press with them, or a 44 inch television.
(And no, I'm not actually kidding.)

So, as the day of moving goes on, as the traffic jam starts to flow, and you're practically ready to burst, you get to meet your new house/flatmates.
This could be completely disastrous. (And I am yet to meet some of mine)

To end on a happier note, good luck to anyone living somewhere new with different people/randomers. You may need it. :)