Thursday, 28 May 2015

Ooh La La... Got a New Look!!!

Today, my feelings of excitement are not only the result of uninterrupted sleep, evenings devoted to re-watching old favourites (though I better keep my fondness of New Moon as quiet as possible!) and consuming massive chocolate muffins that I, a yet-to-be-discovered magnificent baker, made yesterday: in fact, getting a new look has sent shivers of delight down my spine, a sensation that I keep re-experiencing literally every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Really, what could be so different about me? OK, my face might morph into a pepperoni-esque pizza every now and then when hormones are raging more furiously than a Fast and Furious film, but I don't think that I have changed too much - though my hair would tell you otherwise!

Shortly before crawling into the leopard print jungle that is my cat-tastic bed last night, I managed to persuade my mum to cut the hair - as crazy as it definitely sounds, my hair has to be referred to as 'the' or 'it', which pretty much suggests that it has a life of its own! Well, truth be told, my hair is one of the most important things in my life because, unlike my daily struggles with battling unruly spots, it provides me with the utmost joy that a teenager could ever hope to experience. Sure, I've considered chopping it off during the periods when grease has claimed its reign on my lank locks, whose straightness - a trend that most girls my age seem to be obsessed with - has cursed me with excess oil that I absolutely despise.

While wavy- or curly-haired girls air their desires to achieve hair as straight as mine, tears well up in my eyes - because my fairytale ending would come true if my hair decided to develop some volume, and wave farewell to its days of boringness, which is definitely the only word that I can use to describe my dead-straight hair.

Before I'm plunged into a bucket of the oil that my hair is tragically able to produce (with hardly any effort, so it sometimes seems - I'm sure that the likes of KFC and McDonald's would relish an opportunity to save the environment with my greasy locks!), I'd been resisting the urge to get my hair cut for ages until yesterday. Why? In previous years, you could definitely place a winning bet on my moaning like an irritable diva whenever the warmer weather arrived because my hair used to be too short to be tied into a ponytail - most definitely the greatest creation that has relieved me from heatwave terror!

As important as my hair is to me, I seriously can't be bothered to wash or style it during the rare, possibly once-a-year occasions when a heatwave descends upon England, sending all of its inhabitants into a Cornetto-eating frenzy for several days. Once several years ago, I nearly passed out from straightening my already-straight hair - before you even complain, I've already had words with my twelve year old self over there being no logic in doing such a useless thing - when the heat was nearing 30 degrees, from which I've most certainly learnt a lesson: don't do anything during a heatwave! However, tying my hair back makes life much easier because I don't have to obsess for another second over how my locks look, in addition to having a massive weight lifted from my sweating shoulders.

Yet, as I asked myself yesterday, was it worth leaving my hair as it was - long, string-like and heavy - for the sake of being able to tie it back if England was fortunate enough to get some warm weather? As far as I can remember, there weren't any proper heat waves last year, though the climate is a bit cooler since moving to a different area. The answer to my question? No. By then, I'd grown sick of my hair, which had lost its thickness since growing past my shoulders and seemed to get greasier much quicker than usual - and, whenever I've reached that point, a haircut is usually the best solution.

Unlike some people, I'm not in the least interested in the current 'trends' in the world of hair styles - even though I've got no problem with people following these trends, I don't see why I ought to follow the crowd, too. My hair is under my control - one of the best things in which I can express my independence without being instructed by others on how to wear or style it. In all honesty, I've hardly seen any girls in my year with short hair, yet I've never shied away from being what you might call the 'odd one out'; in fact, I celebrate it because being the same as everybody else is depressingly dull in comparison to doing your own thing!

After much snipping and length-checking, I got my new look last night - and, without even having to think twice about it, I simply adore it! Slightly above my chin, my hair has suddenly transformed from a long, yet sadly lanky pair of curtains into a short, but adorably chunky bob; even though I was slightly shocked by its length, I've since grown to appreciate it, especially as I didn't wake up to strands of greasy hair glued to my face this morning. Well, I'm already hopeful that my hair's oiliness will be somewhat controlled by the new length, which will make my giving up a slicked back ponytail worth the sacrifice. Yet, judging by what I've already gained, I don't consider not being able to tie my hair back to be a devastating sacrifice!

What's more, I curled my hair several hours ago... and I feel like I've fallen in love. For the first time. I guess that wanting to kiss yourself in the mirror happens to most girls at one time or another, but I cannot resist looking in the mirror without letting a massive grin light up my face. At this rate, I reckon that all the mirrors in the house will be hidden away from me - I'm known to spend around ten minutes simply gazing at freshly washed hair!

Ah, anything is worth the effort if it's for the sake of my hair...

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

The Highs of Relaxing on a Tuesday Morning

Like a cat snuggled up on its favourite cushion while enjoying its daily rest, I'm curled up on my bed, doing what I like to consider one of my most relaxing activities - blogging. In my opinion, switching on my laptop and returning to my very space on the internet - while the sun is threatening to burst through some reluctant clouds outside - is the best way to wake up on a Tuesday morning. 

Well, how often is it that I'm hanging out at home on a Tuesday? Not very, I shall think. Really, I ought to be gazing at confusing questions in Science right now, forever glancing at my watch in the hope that break time will come quicker, yet that is the sheer joy of half-term: for a small while, I can escape the heavy-going and endlessly busy lifestyle which is better recognised as reality. 

Even though I've got the benefit of literally a week to relax, I honestly don't know what to do with myself. Surely you get what I mean, right? For example, an athlete could spend years and years - literally every second of their waking life - devoted to picking up a medal at the Olympics, hardly taking in anything else that is happening because that one event in the future is make or break for them. Let's say that they win a medal or, even better, actually win the competition itself - wouldn't accomplishing their dreams be the greatest feeling that they will ever experience? 

Anyway, fast forward a few days, weeks or even years later - and they are unsure of which path to follow next. The reason for this? As so much time was focused on getting through every single day, they abandoned all possible thoughts that could have determined their future after the event they were living for was over. As I'm nearly 100% sure you are dying to ask me, how does an Olympic athlete's life story relates to mine? Ever since I started the nerve-wracking task of revising for my mocks during the Easter holidays, I never bothered to consider what I'd do after all of my work - or, at least, the majority of it (as I've got a Performing Arts and another Maths mock in the coming weeks) - was completed. 

Almost every single day was about how I would survive writing an essay about characters whose motives I thought I barely knew, or figuring out formulas that could save my life in Science. And, even after most of my mocks finished, I hardly had a moment to appreciate my efforts: within a click of a finger, I returned to ordinary lessons, doing the same level of intensive work as ever. 

Up until last Friday, I was revising for tests and assigned work to do over the holidays - including a Performing Arts evaluation on masks, in which I was only several hundred away from writing 3000 words (how I pity my teacher - she'll definitely need the summer holidays to mark it!) - so my time spent in an academic bubble has scarcely relented of late. And, as I return to Planet Earth, I'm rediscovering my love of fun and laziness like never before; for the first time in absolutely ages, I spent a Monday afternoon watching a film (even if was one as cringe-worthy as Twilight, but I don't mind revealing it as my identity won't be shared any time soon, will it?). Seriously, I felt like I'd just hit the jackpot because of seeing a film - given the choice, I'd watch one every Monday if time was a bit more generous to me! 

Honestly, having less spare time is as saddening as the recent ending of Mad Men, which was one of the few programmes that would lift my mood to a beautiful and care-free place every Saturday night - the one true day that I would spend the entire week waiting for, anticipating another insight into the brilliant mind that is Don Draper's. When the new year commenced last September, I realised that more of my time would have to be dedicated to work - which didn't bother me because I've never lost sight of the fact that the effort I put in now will be worth it for a lifetime - yet I occasionally feel that some of the work could be avoided. 

Coursework, in particular, can be my occasional bugbear because you can find yourself editing tiny sections - miniscule little mistakes - again and again which, by the time you've handed in your final draft, has driven you around the bend. How I've almost gone insane with my Performing Arts coursework - it amazes me how my assignments never end! I suppose that is what you get for initially passing it off as a 'soft' subject, but I shall never underestimate a subject ever again!

Talking of underestimation, I doubt that I'll underestimate the importance of giving myself a break when it is needed; too often recently, I've been forgoing breaks for the sake of completing work or revising for tests which, like the mocks, I take very seriously. Although I can't help but recognise hard work as slightly more important than play, having some chilled out time is really the only way that I'll keep it together - teenage minds might supposedly be brilliant for remembering things, but I have no intentions of forgetting how to have a good time! 

Unsurprisingly, I'm pretty certain that you want to know what I mean by 'having a good time'. As my home is hardly like the party island of Ibiza, don't expect bars, cocktails and dance music so loud that your ears could fall off! Instead, I'll be taking it easy with watching films, reading books and playing with my four cats, who surprisingly still recognise me after weeks of my studying instead of spending time with them. While on the subject, I think that Bart, otherwise my second-in-charge, is waiting for me to get off my bed so he can reclaim his favourite sleeping spot, so I better hurry...

While some teenagers play video games (like my brother, whose music on Minecraft woke me up this morning!) or watch TV to relax, I get my kick from blogging, which remains my one true comfort when I need to let off some steam. And, really, why would I not want to share my happiness of having some free time to enjoy all for myself? Well, I'm definitely not going to take it for granted - and shall relish every second while it lasts!

Saturday, 23 May 2015

The Bikini Debate

While I was swaying to the music playing on the radio on the way to my weekly Zumba class (which is definitely more tiring than an hour of ICT hell!), an idea popped into my head. Before I add a colon into a sentence to exaggerate the importance of this idea, I want to point out that it completely took me by surprise as, until yesterday, it had hardly ever occurred to me. Unlike important matters such as revising, staying healthy and transforming my naturally straight hair into a ball of crimped fluff every other morning, this idea has never really meant anything to me - perhaps because I never have the time to wear one. 

As soon as I dropped the 'wear' word, I can pretty much guarantee you that this idea is clothes-related so, as a warning to all fashion-haters, now is the time to return to browsing Amazon's latest deals! In addition to my unfortunate lack of time to get into one, I haven't needed to get one for ages because the need to do so has not recently arisen - until now. Even then, I'm not entirely sure if I'll be required to get one as, like those who are sadly not in the possession of a crystal ball, I haven't been blessed with the ability to make an accurate prediction (hence why nobody will let me place a bet any time soon!). 

The idea? Getting a bikini for my upcoming trip - which is now five weeks away - to France next month. 

Uh, I know that bikini talk can be a bit embarrassing for some people - especially if seeing tons of flesh is what you'd expect to see in a poster promoting the circus - but it is nonetheless new territory for me because I have never worn one. Shock. Gasp. Collapse on the floor. As some of you might be wondering, how could I have lived without a bikini until now? Beautiful, colourful and eye-catching, bikinis are typically the first things that fill our minds whenever discussion turns to the summer; well, you would've had to have been living in a cave to escape the recent hype over being 'beach body ready', which I suppose partly contributed to my idea. 

First of all, if I were to get a bikini, I wouldn't be getting one for the sole purpose of exposing as much flesh as a headline-grabbing Z-lister whose aspirations barely reach beyond being featured on the cover of Closer magazine (which makes semi-decent reading while I'm waiting to catch the bus home from school on Wednesdays), even though a bit of skin is guaranteed to be on show. For me, I see wearing your first bikini as an exciting ritual which, as I've pretty much gone through every kind of ritual that you can imagine by now (excluding my very first bar of dark chocolate), would add to the number of events that have defined my teenage years. 

However, the last time I went swimming was around two years ago - a sport that I literally worshipped, despite ruining my make-up (though my fourteen year old self  thankfully knew better than to put on non-waterproof mascara!). Back then, I used to wear a swimsuit - as black as the eye-liner that I used to be renowned for applying too thickly. Why? I felt that I was too young to wear a bikini, which I perceived a bit too revealing. And, to this day, I don't blame myself for not wearing a bikini; when you're fourteen years old, your body is developing so much that you might not feel completely comfortable about showing it off, especially at a place as unsophisticated as an unhygienic (albeit expensive) leisure centre! 

Two years on, I'm that bit more developed - both in terms of maturity and confidence - which means that I'm now not so quick to dismiss the idea of swapping swimsuits for bikinis. As my entire swimming life (if such a thing makes sense!) has been defined by sticking to flattering, yet boring swimsuits, I've developed a thirst for wearing something different and quite exciting. Well, I relish nothing more than giving anything a go - and what more so than when it relates to fashion? 

Although it might sound a bit crazy (but I've definitely got the right to be so after wrapping up a term filled with exams, assessments and tests), I woke to a delightfully sunny Saturday morning by browsing clothing sites on my phone. Not only did getting out of bed seem slightly easier, but I managed to get a taste for what I could potentially be wearing on my trip to France - though this has yet to be confirmed as I don't have the faintest clue on which activities I'll be doing (apart from ordering food in town!). 

Yet, like many things, I've got to get my head around wearing something that will, initially, feel quite strange and alien-like. As thrilling as change can be, adapting to it isn't necessarily a walk in the park - particularly when more flesh is exposed than is possible with an ultra skinny pair of jeans. Though I'm still keen to get a bikini, I won't immediately be rushing to get the tiniest pair that I can get my hands on quite yet - and I doubt that I ever will! The sun hater within me is crying at the thought of the sun beaming its rays all over me, but I shall triumph...

The question remains: shall I wear a bikini? Well, I'll never know if I'll like it unless I wear one - and the mystery shall stay unsolved as long as I stick to swimsuits! 

Saturday, 16 May 2015

The Weekend is SUCH a Drag - Not Kidding!!!

One more week. Another seven days. Approximately 168 hours until next Saturday arrives. Along with my long-awaited week off.

Seriously, reaching the last week of term is when exhaustion truly knocks you off your feet - all of a sudden, getting out of bed is even harder than it usually is, which is definitely saying something! By now, you should have whizzed through so many topics, covered plenty of tasks and completed enough work to fill a bedroom; yet, despite your efforts, another week of early starts, panicking about avoiding the rush hour and arriving home past your ideal bedtime (as nothing tempts me more than going to bed at 5pm after a day of delightful angles hell) awaits you. 

Is it fair? Obviously not - I'm not in the slightest thrilled about having to put myself through five more days of intensive work while my hearts yearns to indulge on as much trash TV as every teenager secretly wants. Unfortunately, this is the way that life is; how I'd love to shed a few tears on the matter, but ensuring that my mascara remains on only my eyes (and not spilling like a leaking bottle down my face) is a bigger priority!

Anyway, this week has pretty much been on a par with every other week - work is as steady as ever, friends are always making me laugh while I'm constantly moaning about not bringing any money to buy a cookie in the canteen - so I don't really have much to report on the life of a modern teen. Honestly, it disappoints me that I cannot provide you, a cherished reader, with more interesting facts about my day-to-day life, but there is very little that is going on at the moment - unless you fancy suffering with me as I get prepared to sit two Maths tests next week. Absolutely amazing, isn't it? Deep down, I'm hoping that you have detected the sarcasm that is detected in my alliterated words; it would take the likes of being possessed by an algebra-loving alien to ever look forward to any Maths test!

Asides from my wonderful Maths news, I managed to get the afternoon off school on Thursday because of having been booked for an appointment at the opticians' in town. In case you aren't aware of this (as it isn't particularly something that I talk about very often), I've been short-sighted or myopic since I was twelve years old, This means that my eyes need to be tested every few years or so in order to ensure that my sight is not deteriorating, which would be a great concern. Until Thursday, I hadn't had my eyes tested since I was fourteen, so it was about time to see how my eyes are getting on - an event which excused me from shivering outdoors in P.E., which definitely put a smile on my face! 

To cut a long story short (as I ended up staying at the opticians for nearly two hours which, as I fought the urge to go shopping, really annoyed me), I've had to get new glasses because my sight has slightly changed. The best time to pick up my two new pairs of glasses would be next Thursday afternoon, so I won't have to go near a rounders' bat anytime soon! Before you complain about my missing out on a vital hour of physical activity, my sight is obviously more important than spending an hour doing next to nothing in a field; besides, I already go the school gym on Wednesdays and attend my weekly Zumba class on Friday evenings, so I doubt that I'll be missing out on much!

On a positive note, I'm now counting down the days (currently five) until I can get my hands on my new glasses, which are certainly better suited to my face than the ones I've presently got. Honestly, I could whack my fourteen year old self for choosing style over, well, style: although my glasses are quite pretty because they have jewels (obviously fake - I'd preferably have real ones if possible!) on the edges, but the frames are way too big for my face! Wearing glasses when my hair is tied back makes me feel really self-conscious because the frames look ten sizes too bigger on my fairly small face, so I'll be beyond relieved to start wearing my smaller glasses as soon as I get them - if only there was a way to make Thursday come around a bit quicker!

Also, I've started to get all the things that I'll need for my upcoming trip to France, an event which I planned all the way back in February but is now creeping up on me; until recently, I'd never truly appreciated how time-consuming travelling can be, but I suppose that is typical with females! I've already gotten a small can of hairspray, dry shampoo, small jars to put my lotions and spot-banishing potions in; the list is endless... And that's only the beauty side of things! At this rate, I'm not going to have much time to consider which clothes I'll be bringing with me though, judging by the current warm spell of weather, I'm pretty certain that my sweatshirts and thermals will be staying behind...

Sorry if I don't seem to be talking about anything all too interesting this week, but exhaustion has completely caught up with me; to my delight, I've been given tons of Maths homework over the past few days, so it's about time that I focus on getting through it instead of randomly browsing the internet. If I had the choice, I'd remain glued to the H&M website all day, yet life isn't quite so forgiving when the biggest exams in your life are a year away. Jeesh, I don't want to begin to consider how stressful my life will be at that point - when will I ever find time to go shopping?

Still, I've got another week ahead of me before I can relax as much as I like - at long last!

Monday, 11 May 2015

The Handbag Diaries

While I'm trying my hardest to keep myself as sane as possible (because, whether you like it or not, staring at Biology books ALL evening can have the power to drive you around the psychopathic bend), there is one thing which is stopping me from making a trip to the Priory: handbags. Ah, those delightful creations - the reason why my heart leaps at the very sight of them! No wonder that my mood suddenly lifts whenever a mention of Louis Vuitton bags are dropped into a conversation...

Unfortunately, I'm not here on this Monday evening to disclose the news of receiving my very first designer bag (though, if it was the case, I would be bragging much more about it - and why not?). Instead, I've fallen in love with a bag on the high street which, as all bargainistas will know, is much friendlier for my purse and will hopefully leave some spare change for a chocolate chip cookie at lunchtime (sometimes why I madly think that a Prada bag is not worth the eye-watering expense!). The bag itself is an absolute beauty - undoubtedly, if it was royalty, we would be ruled by its unignorable power and glamour that it emits like radiation. In fact, I was literally radiating with excitement when it was ordered on Saturday: definitely the highlight of the weekend!

As I'll be embarking on my trip to France in less than seven weeks' time, Mum planted a seed inside my head that I will obviously require a 'casual' bag for the occasion. From the moment she mentioned the word 'casual', I honestly thought that she had dropped a bomb: me, Little Miss Glamour, doing casual? I nearly yelped at the very thought of it - what on earth did she mean? A potato sack?! 

Before you assume that my English isn't up-to-date, I do know what casual means, but I prefer to avoid the, um, rougher side of fashion when it comes to handbags. Like make-up, I'm keen on my handbags being stylish and sophisticated - regardless of the occasion. Even when Mum pointed out that I'll probably being taking in numerous activities, possibly outdoors (fingers crossed that French bees and wasps are more forgiving to Britain's greatest wuss), I still didn't come around to her idea of getting a 'casual' bag. 

And the verdict? There is very little way that I will ever do 'casual' - yet it hasn't stopped me from indulging on a new handbag! Oh yes, thanks to having a brilliant Parents' Evening and virtually swimming in pools of praise, the Bank of Mum and Dad has kindly provided me with a new bag to accompany me on my first trip abroad - the greatest gift that I could have possibly hoped for!!! OK, the bag isn't quite Louis Vuitton, but I can ignore its label because I absolutely love it. Yes, probably even more so than chocolate mousse (and that is really saying something!). 

The bag in question? Have a look for it yourself: 
Mini Stud Tote

Pretty, don't you think? Costing only £16 from Matalan, I was originally tempted to purchase this Mini Tote in red, but I'm glad that I selected the light blue; as much as I love red, it's nice to go for something a little less heavy on the eyes. Besides, pastels never go out of style, so I've made a decent choice there!

Hopefully, finding space for everything I need to carry with me - glasses, phone, make-up, perhaps a mini umbrella - shouldn't be too difficult for me as it seems to be a fairly decent size. How I'm going to wait several days before it is collected shall test my patience to the limit - all I want right now is to have it in my possession! 

Well, this bag has certainly marked a pleasant start to the week - and let's hope it shall remain that way!

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Let's Talk About... My Life

When I set up Life as a Modern Teen over eighteen months ago, I seriously didn't know what I aimed to achieve. By this, I'm referring to actually changing the world or, as all young, fame-obsessed writers hope for, becoming 'the voice of a generation'. Unfortunately, I doubt that I'm going to receive that oh-so-coveted title anytime soon because my voice, for starters, is very different to the numerous accents which define the area I now reside in, yet I did manage to bear one thing in mind: discussing my life.

More often than not, adults get the wrong end of the stick about what it is like to be a teenager in the 21st century, believing that it's all about selfies, entire weekends spent trawling around town and posting cryptic messages on Twitter at one in the morning. Although the mentioned examples might apply to quite a few teenagers, they are hardly a proper insight into what our lives are truly like, are they? There is much more to our lives than our phones, gadgets and portrait-ready selfies, which I sometimes feel that adults don't fully understand - hence why I think that, as a passionate writer, I ought to use my skill to promote the message that adolescence goes far beyond that/

OK, nobody has exactly nominated me to be the so-called 'voice of a generation', but I'd rather get my point across than let people make statements about teenagers that definitely don't relate to me. Seriously, I wasn't blessed with a fiery, hot-as-a-jalapeno-pepper temper for nothing - it might as well be used for something meaningful, don't you think?

Anyway, I think that I've so far done a decent job of providing a unique insight into a modern teenager's life, even if my habits are slightly unique or not on a par with other adolescents my age, yet all teenagers have the right to be who they are - regardless of whether or not they have discovered their 'identity' yet. As I'm typically a year older than my peers at school, I feel more comfortable with who I am so, unlike some certain people, I don't fall to pieces if I'm not accepted by the 'main' crowd, who I definitely know will lose their seemingly 'royal' statuses as soon as their school days are over. A year is a year, but I've managed to use my older age - which totally makes me sound like I need a round of Botox to bring back my youth! - to my advantage because I can distinguish what is foolish and what is best for me.

From the moment Life as a Modern Teen was fertilised into a blog so many months ago, I have nourished it as best as I could, and have cared for it like a mother would protect her child. Whatever happens, my promise of keeping it real shall forever remain intact - and today I'd like to present you with an insight into my daily life.

The day in question is Thursday, which is otherwise recognised as The Worst Day of the Week because my weekly hour of compulsory hell - better known as Core P.E. - is fitted into my timetable, also sadly involving Maths as my first lesson of the day. In addition to this, I attended my first Parents' Evening at school that evening, an experience that was not only different but quite thrilling. As ever, I get kicks out of doing new things, especially because I can finally say that I've done it - nothing irritates me than having to uncover a baffling mystery!

Before I ramble on like a maniac, I shall begin...

6am I wake up, feeling unsettled from nightmares involving a Rounders bat and squealing like a strangled piglet whenever a fly landed on my porcelain-pale skin - potentially a premonition into what was in store for me in P.E. later that day. Despite the strong urge to return to bed, I get up, clean face (with a wet muslin cloth before dabbing some Witch Stick onto several persistent spots - I will get them one day!), then slip into my uniform, which totally makes me look 10 years younger. It often winds me up when people think that I'm younger than I actually when I'm wearing my uniform, because I always look much older if clad in my usual clothes - definitely a reason why I want school uniforms to be banned!

6.05am Contemplate burning uniform because my tie looks like a complete mess, but manage to calm oneself down.

6.10am Venture downstairs for a bite to eat, but only after putting an inch-thick layer of powder foundation, lashings of jet black mascara and nude eye shadow to make myself look slightly more awake. Judging by the purplish bags (which worryingly resemble the bruises you'd sustain after a night spent in a cell) hanging beneath my eyes, this tactic hasn't worked!!!

6.30am Finish eating my breakfast which, if I can remember correctly (as you can always rely on me to remember what I've eaten, but never all of the eight Circle Theorems), was two slices of plain toast, an apple and a small glass of orange juice. I almost lost my temper when Dad switched the TV on which, as it was on Election Day, was only discussing one thing: politics. Almost consider returning to bed in order to escape another segment on the Tories, but remember that my mascara would get smudged if I rested my face on a pillow!

8.20am After spending the best part of two hours doing literally nothing (apart from weight-lifting, playing with kittens and ensuring that I'd actually put my lunch in my schoolbag), I eventually get a lift to school from Mum, which provides me with a perfect opportunity to look out the window and think about the day ahead of me...

8.40am Arrive at school - marvel at the amount of boys wearing trousers of various shades of grey. Start wondering why the next 50 Shades of Grey film cannot be filmed in lovely old England...

8.45am Catch up with my friends who I eventually find after walking around the campus at least twice. Think that I've burnt my breakfast off. One of my friends was to celebrate her birthday the day afterwards (Friday), so she was telling us about ordering a Dominos pizza and which flavour she wanted to get. Really had to try my hardest not to drawl with delight whilst thinking about vegetarian pizza, but managed to keep my dignity intact. Then I gave my friend a bag of Confused Skittles for her b-day, some of which she shared around just before everyone went to Form. Realised that I don't like watermelon - shall avoid in the future.

8.55 to 9.15am Form time - can't even escape the Election in here! Forced to vote for one of the top four Political parties in Britain: Labour; Conservative; Liberal Democrats; and Ukip. Was advised not to declare who I voted for, which I shall bear in mind on here, but definitely didn't vote for the party with colours to resemble a beastly wasp.

9.20am First period - Maths. UGH!!! Just a few weeks after sitting an unnerving Mock, my teacher decided to force the class into sitting a test on Angles, which I certainly enjoyed (not!).

9.25am Test began, but seriously didn't know HOW to answer the questions.

9.36am Still, not all could could have been bad if I managed to remember all eight Circle Theorems.

9.37am Remembered that I wouldn't get any extra marks for getting my Circle Theorems right.*sad face*

10.05am Test finished - thank goodness!

Five seconds later Told to have my test marked in class; was hoping to escape it for a while longer.

10.15am After another class member marked my test, I got my paper back: a D2. A D in a test that I spent the previous evening revising for?! Not fair!!!

10.20am Finally escape Maths, heading to the pleasant environment that is English for an hour.

10.50am Wish that I could meet my very own Romeo and lived in a place as romantic as Verona. Sigh.

11.20 to 11.40am Break (a.k.a. stuff yourself with sugar-loaded snacks) time!

11.40 to 12.40pm Third period - French, my only GCSE option of the day.

12.40 to 1.20pm Lunch time! Devour a ham roll, two baby cucumbers and gulp down tons of water; dream of having a bar of chocolate, particularly when I see one of my friends eating bars after bars of chocolate. Feeling very envious!

1.20 to 2.20pm Fourth period - P.E. Just DON'T even ask me about it (though I luckily didn't have to go outdoors into the freezing cold, btw).

2.20pm Stumble out of the P.E. complex, excited to have an hour of Science to take my mind off balls, tennis rackets and racing around a boiling hot hall which didn't have any fresh air.

2.30pm Receive the results from the Science Mock I'd sat two days before (Tuesday): a C!!! As I'd sat the Foundation paper, the highest grade I could have gained was a C, so I proved to myself that I could pass Science!

2.32pm Upon inspecting my paper a bit more closely, I discovered that I performed the worst on the Biology section, which doesn't MAKE ANY SENSE. Biology is my absolute favourite part of Science, yet I got higher marks on Physics which I truly reserve no passion for!

2.32 to 3.20pm Spend the whole hour smirking and grinning that I passed - well, at least one test that week went well!

3.21pm Leave Science, before racing to Reception to drop off my P.E. kit and get my clothes from Mum, who would be seeing me later for Parents' Evening. She even brought me my three-inch heels so I would finally be able to tower over some people.

3.22pm Nearly stumble whilst walking to the Performing Arts block, where I was going to write up some coursework for my current project on Masks. Also notice that pupils behave a bit better as I walked past - am amazed that heels can make one think that you're a teacher!

3.25 to 4.45pm After getting changed, I went to the Music room to write some coursework, but only wrote about 400 words (which, for me, is virtually nothing) as I was chatting to my friends. Only three people turned up - I'd expected most of the class to have been there! Then again, that is proof of how Parents' Evening throws everything up the wall...

4.45pm Met my Mum in Reception, which looks far grander than the one in the local Asda. Patiently waited for Dad to arrive straight from work.

4.50pm Dad finally arrived, just as I'd returned from putting my bags into the car boot (and panicked about not locking the car - damn my short-sighted eyes for not looking properly!).

4.55pm Enter the Great Hall, five minutes early ahead of my first appointment with my French teacher.

4.55 to 6.10pm My parents and I visit nearly all of my teachers (one of whom we couldn't see due to being absent), sometimes seeing one teacher before automatically visiting another or, as I did for English, stand for absolutely ages. Mum and Dad were really pleased to hear about my grades and what I could possibly achieve next year (possibly an A in Performing Arts, which thrilled me greatly!), in addition to liking all of my teachers. Amazingly, I found my way around the campus to see my teachers, some of whom were spread out all over the place, despite being five minutes late for one of my appointments - losing track of the time was so easy, especially as I'd taken my watch off! Whilst waiting for one of my appointments, I picked up several brochures on entering the teaching profession, a job which I've recently taken an interest into getting when I finish school. These will hopefully help me when I consider which options to choose upon applying to Sixth Form later this year.

6.15pm Just under ten hours after I'd arrived at school, I finally got into the car to go home - and have something more appetising than a half-squashed box of raisins to eat!

6.45pm Arrived home, instantly devouring into a small bowl of potato wedges leftover from yesterday's dinner before regretting my ill-though decision to eat so quickly, which made me suddenly lose an appetite for tonight's meal of chicken curry and bombay potatoes.

6.48pm After going upstairs to put my things away (and try to figure out whether my missing P.E. sock was hiding), Dad praised me for 'doing so well' that evening. Time to glow like an angel, then!

7.30pm Eat the curry, still wishing that I'd avoided the potato wedges. Still, a stomach ache hardly stopped me from having several vegetable samosas!

8.00 to 9.00pm Pre-bedtime - took make-up off, cleaned face, showered, got changed and started to relax before going to bed. Ah.

9.00pm Read one of the newspapers, realising that tonight would have been my only opportunity to read it before it would end up in the cats' litter tray the following morning - the most irritating thing that could possibly happen!

9.20pm Start thinking about my bed and how snuggly it would be to get into it.

9.21pm Fantasise about closing my eyes, before transporting myself onto a pleasant journey into Dreamland...

9.28pm Have had enough of dreaming about Dreamland - cannot be bothered to stay awake for a moment longer! Bed time it is!

Sunday, 3 May 2015

The Clothes Haunting Me in My Dreams

What with embarking on my first foreign adventure at the end of next month (YES - only less two months to go until I'm on my way to oh-so-chic France for several nights!), my search for holiday-appropriate clothes has unofficially commenced. Having initially been somewhat uninterested in stocking up on a wardrobe of new, yet-to-be-worn clothes because of recently splashing out, I'm now fighting the urge to place many beautiful pieces into virtual shopping bags whenever I go online. Really, the internet can be quite cruel at times when it bombards you with images of pretty dresses, enviably casual cropped jeans and stylish t-shirts which are bound to turn heads - how can I not satisfy my appetite for shopping?

Girls, this is a problem that many of us face at this time of year and, no matter how determined you might be to keep a tight grip on your purse, ignoring powerful cravings is a thousand times harder than resisting the last Oreo in the packet. And most people think that dieting is difficult - have you even LIVED?! Willing yourself to stay away from Topshop, H&M and even bargain basement Primark is sheer torture which nobody deserves to endure; in my opinion, shopping is beneficial for happiness, pleasure and confidence in yourself. Unlike the endlessly cold winter, summer is really the sole opportunity that you can express your personality through your clothes... well, if you can rely on the classic damp British weather not ruining your annual opportunity.

Luckily, I'll be escaping any possibilities of humid showers for several days when I swap my native land for France, a country renowned for its fabulous sense of style - which shall definitely make a pleasant change from the fake tan, baggy tracksuit bottoms and ridiculous make-up that is more commonplace here! As I've always dreamt of visiting France, this trip, which I'm able to go on thanks to selecting French as one of my GCSE options, means a lot to me because experiencing a different culture has intrigued me for years. Like all things, trying something new is not only uplifting, but immensely thrilling - and I'm now counting down the weeks (and eventually days) until my dream starts at the very early time of 7.30 on a Monday morning...

Now that I've sorted out my passport, health insurance card and hair straighteners (obviously the greatest priority of all), I'm more than ready to focus my attention on the clothes and accessories I want to bring on my first trip abroad. France is likely to be a bit warmer than is expected in the UK, so I doubt that my ridiculously warm dressing gown will be needed! T-shirts, light cardigans, jeans, one or two dresses are probably going to find their way into my suitcase (and I don't even know which one I'm going to be using!), along with a few pairs of cheap earrings because I really would be beside myself if I lose my fancier ones abroad!

In general, I probably already know what I'll put in my suitcase, but I nonetheless fantasise about other things which I'd love to bring to France - some of which would need quite a lengthy loan if I were to purchase it! From handbags to dresses, there are many things which have caught my fashion-conscious eye, fortunately a few of which definitely won't put me in the red!

H&M, £14.99

OK, I'm pretty much certain that you are thinking one thing: 'it's too dark for the summer'! Yeah, it might look a bit down-in-the-dumps-because-it's-January-esque, but I just adore the style of it - as I'd recently caught up on the latest episode of Mad Men, my mind has been transported to the 60s/70s, eras when you would have expected women to wear dresses as cute and stylish as the one above.

Besides, I might as well admit that I'm a massive lover of collars, which only accentuates the dress' femininity; you would stand no chance of stopping me from gazing at in a shop! That reminds me that I have to go all the way into the city to visit an H&M store, which might not even stock this stunning dress. Hmm, tonight might be a night of persuading the parents to let me get this dress (as a special award for my so-far excellent results in my mock exams - and, um, being a bit poorly earlier this morning).

Well, a girl has to treat herself sooner or later, doesn't she? Certainly not bad for £15!

New Look, £7.99
Grey Nothing To Wear T-Shirt | New Look
As almost, if not all, people, experience at one point in their lives, a horrible thought crosses our minds: we have absolutely nothing (or rien, or you fancy putting a French twist on it) to wear. Yikes! Though our parents sigh like the weight of the world - a.k.a your wardrobe which is near bursting point with amazing clothes - when we moan about our need to raid Oxford Street, it is very frustrating when you tire of all the t-shirts, jeans, jackets, skirts, dresses and whatever you hide in your wardrobe. Talk about a nightmare!

Anyway, I've realised that this t-shirt is immune to the 'oh-no-I-don't-know-what-wear- syndrome which strikes confused teens because it pokes fun at the occasional dilemmas that fashion presents to us. As a fashion lover, I adore a bit of irony and sarcasm, which this t-shirt fabulously reflects - whilst presenting three other colours (white, cream and black) so you can never have a disastrous start to your day ever again!

If you want, please send me a message expressing your dearest appreciation for my services. No irony included.

Louis Vuitton St Germain PM Handbag, £1,460

Yes, yes, yes: this is the bag that I'd love to have! Not only is it a gloriously vibrant colour, but I find it impossible to resist loving the bag's shape, which screams elegance to me. Already, there are images flooding in my head of carrying it around whilst being clad in a summery dress - exactly the the look I'm aiming to create in France!

Unlike the previous two items, I doubt that the Bank of Mum and Dad would provide a loan as large as the one needed to afford this bag: needless to say, £1500 would take quite a long time to pay back! Instead of getting the 'real thing', I think my best bet would be to look for a replica on the high street which, as cheaper fashion chains refer to the designer labels for more inspiration than ever nowadays, shouldn't be an awfully hard task.

Still, I wouldn't say no to a Louis Vuitton bag - as if anybody would!