Springy Springy?

During an A2 Physics lesson today my teacher genuinely said “…and that’s what you should have found from your experiments with the springy springy last Thursday.” And they say A Levels are dumbing down? Crazy times. In fairness it was disgustingly hard subject matter let me tell you there is nothing simple about simple harmonic motion.

Anyway, I also sent my UCAS, which is big news. I thought I’d have a panic attack when I did, I get stressed very easily. My mum went to press the ominous “send” button for me, but I defended my right to control my own destiny, by doing something that would ultimately lead to the exact same scenario as if I’d let her press it for me, until the bitter end. It was a bit creepy actually, I sort of squeaked and growled at the same time whilst grabbing the computer with, what I can only guess to be, a deranged look in my eyes.

I’ve received emails from all but one of my choices to say thanks for applying, I’ve begun to check my emails constantly, and can I just say, I never noticed before just how many pointless emails apple send out. Seriously, I can barely move for emails from apple, it’s dreadful. Every time I see an email pop up on the screen I get a tiny flutter of excitement in my stomach. Thanks apple for giving me false hope and burning that hope up before my very eyes by demanding that I buy an iPad. If, after the first email, I haven’t bought an iPad because I'd somehow missed that I’d had an email, assuming of course I haven’t noticed the constant bombardment of indoctrinating advertisement that they so casually slap all over the television and internet, do they really think that sending me another totally identical email will force me to buy their ridiculous contraption?

Essentially, the iPad is an inconveniently sized iPod Touch. Don’t get me wrong, the iPod Touch genuinely changed my life by allowing me contact with the outside world, but that doesn’t mean I want it’s overweight older brother staying at my house, barging in on my life and being sick on my sofa. Somewhere in that metaphor is a point I’m sure and when I find it I’ll make it directly. What I’m saying is: iPads are not worth the money, you could actually buy a decent laptop for less.

Thus concludes my therapy session. :P

The Poppy

As you’ve no doubt heard, a group of Muslim protesters burnt a poppy during the Remembrance Day service. I completely agree that it was a horrible, disrespectful thing to do. However, I hate the mass surge of hatred of Islam that has arisen from it. Those 35 people no more stand for the whole of their faith than I do for everyone with the name Rosie. Facebook is rife with pathetic comments that I find completely repulsive, those protesters should be ashamed, but so should the people using them as an excuse for insulting and victimising a whole faith group because of the actions of a small number of disrespectful people. Not for the first time, I find myself disappointed in, and ashamed of, the British public. I understand that there's a certain irony in my generalising British people, but facebook is a pretty good indication of the level of idiocy in our country.

Also, I love you Nan, and hope you feel better soon. :)

The playlist!

Another blog post?

“No thank you!”, I hear you scream, but alas, it is so. I created that playlist I spoke of, and I’ll link you to it somehow towards the end of the blog, by which time I hope to have worked out how to do it.

The play list is, as I’ve said, upbeat. I wanted to put things together that put a smile on my face when I listen to them, or at the very least they make my feet tap. The playlist is on spotify, which I highly recommend you get, it allows you to listen to any music, any time, for free. There are adverts with the free version, but honestly it doesn’t bother me one bit. I also have one published with a more chilled vibe, which you are free to check out (and subscribe to!).

I’ve been trying to think of something to write about, but honestly I think my life has gotten pretty monotonous recently. All I seem to do is work, there’s so much to do right now, but by the end of the month it’ll all quieten down because I’ll finish my Open University and (hopefully) send off my UCAS, not to mention my maths coursework and all the various chapter tests that need to be done in the next couple of days. So, there is light ahead, but in a way, I secretly enjoy the rush I get when I’ve got a lot to do in a short space of time, and I love the feeling of when I solve some form of puzzle. So I’ll miss the adrenaline, but then it’ll give me more time to play guitar, which I love. When I just close my eyes and play (and sing, which may explain any adverse weather conditions), I feel like my guitar and I are the only things that exist in the whole world, I feel free.

A few months ago I read this:

There once was a King who lived in a two-storey grass house, and every year for his birthday he’d have a new throne made, and he’d put the old one upstairs. One year, his house collapsed under the weight.

The moral of this story? People who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.

Okay, finally, the play list - http://open.spotify.com/user/rosiebeeston/playlist/71uF2Z3Zo4GoPLRtpj9myY

Roon Returns!

I haven’t blogged in ages, how bad of me. However, I’m sure my one and only reader will forgive me. Yes, I do forgive me. There we go.

Anyway, much has transpired since I last blogged, and I’ll try to squeeze as much in as I can. Firstly, my trip to Edinburgh:

The University was amazing, I fell in love with it almost immediately. The lecturer giving the talk on Physics at Edinburgh was so funny, and all of the staff seemed friendly and willing to help. Although, I suppose that the point of an open day is to sell your University, so I shouldn’t take that for granted. The whole trip was great, Edinburgh is an amazing city, I spent half of my time walking around with my head in the air, staring at the tall buildings that seem to envelop you in history. The architecture really is wonderful, and there are so many little corners to explore I don’t think anyone could ever get bored living there. I’ve never wanted something more than a place at Edinburgh University.

Back at school:

I co-run a club for year seven and eight pupils to get them playing loads of different sports, and we were playing ‘horse’. You have to shoot at a basketball hoop and if you don’t get it in, you get a letter until you spell ‘horse’, when you do, you’re out. What I didn’t foresee was this:

“I’m a HO!”
“Yeah well, I’m a HOR!”

Jesus Christ, I dread to think what they told their parents. Anyway, another music suggestion - Tingsek. It makes even my miserable feet tap. “World of its own” is a particularly good one. I’ll be publishing an upbeat spotify play list shortly, so watch out for that. I had more to say, but I forgot, lucky you.

Au revoir!

Harry Potter and the Old Lady's Shoe

I heard the crash of a foot, my head snapped to the source of the sound and I saw a little old lady staring down at her slipper, the kind that old people call a shoe. She then scraped her foot vigorously along the ground, narrowly missing her oversized handbag as her leg flew into the air, she may have overdone the scraping a little*. As she hobbled along past me she muttered “Hah! Killed that wasp.”, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve witnessed in a very long time. I felt that justice had been served to that particular menace to society. I have to wonder how many wasps she'd tried to splat before she succeeded with 'that wasp' though. At least she got one of the blasted things, I suppose. I hate wasps. And pear drops, they’re disgusting.

The other thing I wanted to talk about was Harry Potter. I’ve been re-reading them, and in the first book, I found this “there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!”, which made me smile, JK Rowling wouldn’t have believed, when writing that, that her creation would have such phenomenal success. I don’t think there has ever been anything like Harry Potter before, and I don’t suppose there ever will be again. It’s a shame in a way, Harry Potter got everyone reading, and showed the power that literature can have, but it’ll probably never happen again. It takes something really special to make the world notice in the way Harry Potter did.

*I understand this makes it sound like the old lady kicked her leg so hard that it came off, but I’d just like to assure you that no old ladies were harmed in the making of this blog post, her leg is most definitely still attached. (unlike the wasp's)

New Music.

So, recently I’ve been trying to find new music to get my teeth into. Occasionally, my search has been fruitful and I’ve discovered a load of decent new bands. It’s just nice to listen to something new from time to time, but it’s hard to find something when you don’t really know what you’re looking for. My music taste is odd, to say the least, and I generally don’t like chart toppers until they’ve officially fallen out of fashion and into history. It’s not out of any presumption of being different, or better, it’s just that I’m so out of touch with everything that goes on in the outside world that I don’t hear these tunes until they’re retro. To me though, music these days appears to be mostly just noise. What’s dance about? There’s no rhythm, no possible way that anyone could find a dance to go with it. Mostly. There are bands from most genres that I like, in all fairness.

But there has been a sort of new wave of music recently. People are taking up their acoustic guitars again, and I love the sweetness, the ring it has. It’s not just because I have an acoustic, I’ve always admired them, and it’s not that I don’t really like electrics, it’s because acoustics have character and soul. They’re more natural than those strange noises that feature in dance music, or even in some rock. I’m going through a chilled out phase, and I like it, but it’s inconvenient when I’m at parties, or in the common room, because I never know the music. I still listen to classic rock, because it’s just plain awesome, and it’s actually, in general, a lot more relaxed than modern rock, there’s a reason it’s called classic, and there’s a reason that it has survived; it’s good, great in fact. Led Zeppelin are probably my favourite classic rock band, because they’re so versatile, they had so many styles from ‘Rock n Roll’ to ’D’Yer Maker’. You can see their influences in so many areas of music, even today, especially with certain singer-songwriters. For example, Scott Matthews. He’s one of the musicians I most admire, and probably the most underrated as well.

I don’t even know whether half of the new things I’ve started listening to are general knowledge. I could be listening to the number one in the charts right now, and I wouldn’t even know. Although I doubt it, it’s usually Lady Gaga, and I’m not a huge fan. That’s another point I should make actually. She’s dominating whatever market it is that she belongs to. In some ways that’s good, getting back to the old days when bands were consistently good, and consistently topping charts, but in some ways it’s not, music is as diverse as any other media, and maybe it should be allowed to flourish in all corners. Or maybe people stopped dominating because our attention spans got smaller, we can’t focus on the same band for as long. Maybe it’s because people just download the one track they want now, instead of just buying an album. I don’t know. All I know is that music is always changing.

So, I suppose what I’m saying is; try some new tunes! You never know what you might find. Personally, I recommend the following:

Scott Matthews (Any song from Passing Stranger), Blitzen Trapper (Black River Killer), Bon Iver (Skinny Love, Flume, Re:Stacks, Blindsided), Isak Strand & the Resin Band (Josie Jo), Joseph Arthur (Could We Survive), Miike Snow (A Horse is Not a Home), Patrick Watson (Big Bird in a Small Cage), Ray LaMontagne (Sarah, Hold You in My Arms, Shelter), Thom Yorke (Harrowdown Hill), Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Y Control). That’s all I can think of for new music, but try out old bands too. Listen to songs you haven’t listened to of familiar bands. There’s bound to be something there. Also, yes it is Miike, with two ‘i’s, Snow.

Also, a tribute to my brother, bless him, the legend that he is. This is a conversation we had recently:

“MATT,” (we were shouting, as he was upstairs and I was downstairs) “LIE TO ME!”

“LOVE YOU!” I assumed that he’d misheard, thinking I’d said that I loved him. For those who don’t know, Lie to Me is a program, you should watch it, it’s one of the best things on TV.

“NO, LIE TO ME.”

“I JUST DID!” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I laughed so hard, touché, Matt, touché. My mother also laughed manically. She was in the toilet, it was a little creepy, I won’t lie.

Ciao!

Incoherency, Garlic Bread and Banking.

My brother has officially lost the ability to speak. Whether the fault lies with his becoming a teenager, or with hours upon hours of computer games, he seems to have finally sunk into incoherent mumbling. This was brought to my attention today when he was trying to call me down for tea. All I could hear was “RO-EEE. GAAAABAAA REE-EE” How on Earth, as someone not entirely in touch with modern teenagers and their language, was I supposed to decipher any sort of meaning from a series of moans and mumbles?

I shouted for him to tell me again. He tried. This shows two things, the first is that I at least can put a sentence together and be heard and understood, which shows that it must be him, and not the distance from which he was shouting. The second is that he understands English, and that whether or not I had slipped into a parallel universe, English is (or was, who knows, the world is a constantly changing place) the accepted language of use. So, therefore, it should not have taken four attempts for him to relay a relatively simple message to me.

If you’re interested, what he was trying to say was “ROSIE, THE GARLIC BREAD’S READY”. How annoying. I had something else to rant about, but in my excitement at being annoyed and consequently writing about it, I’ve forgotten what that was. How annoying. At the moment I’m watching Grand Designs and looking at University Courses. Also, I got an email from my bank today, apparently some information is wrong and they can’t activate my account. Very annoying, I spent a good half an hour on the phone the other day trying to open it. There was a man who spoke infuriatingly slowly in an Irish accent on the other side of my phone who kept congratulating me on tiny details of my life. An example of this is:

“Do you have any middle names.”

“Yes, it's Alice.”

“Good for you.”

Why is that good for me? I’m honestly totally indifferent. Had I been born and not been given a middle name, I wouldn’t have spent my life thinking “I can’t help but feel that a tiny part of me is missing.” or even, had I been given a different one, would I have mused “That’s not who I am, Lord, I feel so lost.”. my point is, my middle name really has had very little impact on my life, and I haven’t a clue why I should be told it was good. It’s like praising someone on receiving the local newspaper. To be fair, I probably shouldn’t be angry at him for being courteous, at least he was making an effort, unlike the rest of most of society today.

That’s all folks.

Toy Story 3!

I watched Toy Story 3 in 3D. Toy Story was one of the great films of my childhood, and I was so excited when I found out that they were bringing out another one. It was amazing, the 3D was ace! The glasses were a rip off though, but next time I go to see another 3D film, I get a discount off my ticket for reusing the glasses, so it was sort of worth it. It’s not like the red and green cellophane surrounded by a vaguely glasses-shaped piece of cardboard anymore, gone are the days of miscoloured dimensions, now we have sunglasses. I actually think they’re pretty stylish too, but what do I know? The glasses were a thrill, I was dubious at first, “No red? No green? They must be mad! What kind of Universe do they think we're living in?”, but they were not mad. They worked, and I could watch a 3D film which contained the full range of the visible light spectrum!

So, the glasses were cool, and the film was brilliant too. It was funny and didn’t ruin the Toy Story reputation for me, unlike other sequels I could mention (Shrek 2 - dire, Shrek 3 - an abomination that actually made me angry, which is hard. (It’s not hard, but the film was excessively bad). The only thing that stopped me getting out of my seat and throwing popcorn and small children at the screen which was so offensive to me, was the fact that I was with friends and the dronkeys were cute. I’m not going to watch the fourth one for fear of setting myself on a violent rampage, plus I wouldn’t be able to relinquish the grudge fully enough to bring myself to watch it. I digress). So, yeah, it was cool.

I know what you’re thinking, “finally, a blog post that wasn’t composed of just anger” I thought I’d branch out, who knows, maybe it’ll stick! It probably won’t though, sorry, I’m an angrily natured being and it takes a lot (of bright primary colours or shiny things) to make me anything other than angry.

The Proper Use of Bicycles and their Affiliated Handlebars

I was walking home from school the other day, annoyed and fed up, which is usually the result of school and the unutterably dull journey home, when I saw a bike. The bike was being ridden by a girl who, I’m sorry to say, I must describe as an oaf. She was rolling along at about 0.5 miles an hour, neglecting her handlebars. There is a reason that handlebars were invented. The man who invented handlebars would be literally turning (hah) in his grave. Why, when you have perfectly functioning handlebars, would you decide to use your own body as a counterbalance in lieu of the aforementioned handlebars?

As you can imagine, I was irked by this (sorry for the harsh language I am about to use) twit. I scowled hatefully at her, screaming “FALL”, in my head of course. She did. Now, there are two scenarios which could be drawn from this, the first is that she is a fool of the highest order, the second is that I have the much sought after power of telepathy. The two events are not mutually exclusive. I have since concluded that I have not got supernatural abilities, through rigorous testing, but I am fairly certain that she is a fool, because after she fell off her bike due to the misuse of the handlebars, she proceeded to get up and not use her handlebars. It doesn’t take a genius. Natural selection, you have been foiled again.

Football is bad for my soul.

As you may well have realised, yesterday was the long-awaited England match. I went to watch it with my family at my grandparents house.

I should not be allowed to watch football. I turned into a monster. By the second half I was wishing all manner of death upon the American team, who may be perfectly agreeable and charming people in the flesh. But I doubt it, because they're American, and they scored. In fact, I was so angry at the point of the American handball that I suggested, rather loudly, that he had his arm amputated rather than getting a yellow card, as then it wouldn't get in the way again. I think I may have scared my family, especially my nan. Sorry nan.

This could possibly be seen as perfectly normal, if I was accustomed to watching football. I am not. I never watch it, I didn't even realise it was the World Cup until about three days ago, when I was told by an exasperated friend. I'm not a football person. It's not in my blood, at least not on my fathers side. He hates it, and I can see why. I don't like being tense, it makes me... well, tense. I have resolved to stay away from any further matches. It's not even a good game! Now badminton, that's a sport. *ducks to avoid sharp objects thrown by football fans*

So, for this reason, I have come to the conclusion that football is bad for my soul, and so I shouldn't be allowed to watch it. EVER.

Of Tooth and Toothbrush

First post!

Recently I have begun the process of getting braces, which would be simple if I weren't getting them from Stafford Hospital, but I am, so it's not. Before I'm deemed worthy of having the braces, I have to go to lessons on cleaning my teeth and not eating hard things. I've been to one, and there is a further one to go, but the first was traumatic enough.

I had to clean my teeth while she held a mirror up for me. Honestly, I've never used a mirror to clean my teeth before, after all these years, I think I know where most of them are. What was more unnerving than watching my own contorted face gawping back at me, was the woman staring at me while I brushed. I kept thinking to myself "What if I've been doing it wrong all these years?"

After this ordeal was over, and I'd successfully dribbled down my front (how embarrassing), she told me that I had a good technique. I replied saying "I've been doing it a while", to which she laughed politely, but was clearly irked. Maybe she's heard that one before? A little later, she revealed to me that her toothbrush was often flat by the time she used it, because her children and husband usually got here before her. Nice. So, here I was, recieving a lecture on dental hygiene from a woman who shares her toothbrush with at least three other people, when she began to insult my toothbrush, the poor thing.

I mention this, because it brings me to my tale of buying a new toothbrush. I went to my local tesco direct, which is essentially a petrol station with a fruit isle, and purchased what has to be the best manual toothbrush I have come across. It was mint scented, yes scented. And just in case, in your excitement, you forgot what mint smelt like (easily done when confronted with such an item), there was a mint leaf scratch n sniff on the front. Unfortunately, however, when I scratched, I sniffed no mint. I think the man in the shop scratched away all the sniff in his lust for mint-scented-packaging. Darn you, tesco man, darn you to heck. (Madagascar reference)

So, now you know of my toothbrush, which has damn fine bristles, if I do say so myself. Thank you for reading.