Highlighter Stars.

I changed the title of this blog again. And the subtitle. Because I’m crazy like that.
In case anyone is wondering, I’ve no idea who the ‘you’ in ‘[because you make the world that little bit brighter]’ is; it just came to me as I was drifting off to sleep last night and it sounded pretty so I decided to use it.

Anyway, here’s a (late) Christmas joke from a cracker:

Q: How do you fit 4 polar bears in a car?
A: Take Rudoph out first.

…

No, it didn’t make much sense to me either.

I was in Asda today (along with half the world. Apparently it’s THE place to be when it’s raining) and was amused by a conversation that I overheard between two chavvy girls.

Picture the scene:
Two girls, both maybe 15 or 16, wearing tracksuits, with blonde hair (dark roots, natch) in a high gelled back ponytail. The only distinguishable difference between their outfits is the fact that the second girl has gold hoop earrings to complete the look. Both are apparently out shopping with their family and happen to see each other.

Girl #1: Oright Jade? ‘Ow’s it goin’?
Jade: Yeah, i’s oright.
Girl 1: Whaddyou ‘ave in the end?

[at this point, I assume she’s asking what Jade had for Christmas. A fair assumption, I feel]

Jade: Boy.

[this throws me slightly]

Girl #1: Thas great. ‘Ow old is he? Only a coupla weeks, innee?
Jade: Yeah, ’bout that.

[does this girl not know the age of her child?]

I went out of earshot at that point, unfortunately. But, taking a glance around, I saw sight nor sound of this newborn. There was a woman who appeared to be Jade’s mother (distinguishable by the gold hoop earrings that matched her daughter’s, but were slightly larger. Obviously to show rank), pushing a trolley, but nope, no child. Amazing.

Cardiff chavs > all other chavs. It’s the accent

I had my hair cut today. Despite the fact that I had about 3 inches cut off the ends, it doesn’t look all that much shorter or different. I originally asked for 2 inches off the ends, but decided to ask for another inch off when I saw that 2 inches wasn’t as drastic as I’d thought it was. Neither, apparently, was 3 inches.
I’ll have it cut significantly shorter when I next have it cut. Which won’t be until March or April, but never mind

The girl/woman who cut my hair was the same girl who’d cut my hair the last 2 times I’d been to have my hair cut. She recognised me but I, uh, didn’t recognise her. Which made me feel really bad. She said to me, “I cut your hair last time, didn’t I?” and all I could do was squeak, “Um, yeah, I think so,” not really having the slightest clue. She must cut the hair of hundreds of people, yet she still managed to remember me - and the fact that I like to wear my hair curly, but straighten my fringe - whereas I have only one hairdresser and still can’t manage to remember what her name is or what she looks like.
Still, I made a deliberate effort to find out her name - Natalie - and I shall specifically ask for her next time I book an appointment there.

Please can I look like this woman?

*thud*

Isn’t it weird when something that you were once oblivious to suddenly surrounds you? You find out about it once and then, boom, it’s being mentioned all the time. Was it that you never noticed it being mentioned before because it meant nothing to you, or is it really that coincedental, that this new thing really does keep intruding on your life?

When my mother was booking a trip to America a few years back, she told me that we were going to Providence, Rhode Island. Providence is the capital of RI but I’d never heard of it before my mother mentioned it to me.
Only a couple of days later, my mother was watching TV when she came across a show that’s set in, and called, ‘Providence’ (incidentally, I miss that show. I never saw the last series, and really wanted to know what happened to Syd in the burning surgery with the schizophrenic stalker). Not long after that, I found out that somebody well known - who I’d previously never taken an interest in, but just happened to be reading an article about - had grown up in Providence. This place I’d never heard of.

It’s happened many other times to me. The most recent example - and the one that prompted me to write/type this entry - is to do with an American TV show called ‘The Dog Whisperer’. It’s shown in America on the National Geographic Channel, and over here on Sky Three. While I was at university, my mother became obsessed with the show and now watches it every day. Obviously, I’d never heard of it before she somehow managed to stumble across it and decide to watch it.
Then, just now, I was reading Bones fanfiction (I was looking for ‘Woman in the Sand’ related fics, in case you’re interested), and I came across a story called ‘Temperance Brennan, the FBI Whisperer’. And, what do you know, the story is about Brennan watching ‘The Dog Whisperer’ and using the techniques on there to punish Booth for ruining her date.

Seriously, what are the odds? Would I have clicked on that story had I not known about ‘The Dog Whisperer’? Or would I have clicked on it but not had it mean anything to me because I’d never heard of the show? I’ve no way of knowing. All I know is that it was an extremely bizarre coincedence.

It was my 19th birthday yesterday, which means that I’m now into my final year of being a teenager. Scary stuff.

My Facebook wall was inundated with messages wishing me a happy birthday. I had 15 comments; I was expecting maybe three or four. And that’s not including Mark’s card and Tim/Harry’s text (and Chris’s card, but he commented on my wall as well). I went to bed last night feeling rather more loved that I thought I was.

So it was a good day. I got the Bones Season 2 boxset - yes, I can finally see it, months after everyone else started watching the third season - and Carrie Underwood’s album, an amazing magnetic necklace which will no doubt provide hours of amusement, Maroon 5’s new album, some Liz Earle creams (my mother has every intention of making me use them and then taking advantage of QVC’s 30 day money back guarantee. She has no scruples), knee high boots (finally!), High School Musical 1 & 2 (because, yes, I am just that cool. No, I don’t care what you think of me for liking HSM) and a whole host of other random things such as toaster bags and a sparkly scarf.

My grandma even made a chocolate cake instead of her usual plain sponge cake for me. Everyone loves my grandma’s cake but I’ve always found it to be WAY too sickly. I take one bite and need to glug down a glass of water to not feel ill. So this year I asked for a chocolate cake. And it was much less sickly. Seems strange, but that’s the way it was.

I’ve written my Christmas cards, so I’ll be posting them this afternoon or tomorrow, depending on when I can be bothered to walk down the road to the postbox.

I’m back home in Cardiff. Considering I haven’t been here for 11 weeks, so far nothing I’ve seen has changed. Besides my house feeling really weirdly small.

I have so much stuff to unpack. I’m not looking forward to doing that in the slightest. I’ll do it … tomorrow. After I’ve visited my grandparents in the morning. Because wow, I haven’t seen them in 11 weeks.

Anyway.
The first term of the first year of university is over.  The time went SO fast. The weeks just flew by, and in one sense, I did so much. In another, I did nothing. I got drunk a lot, went to some seminars and lectures, did an essay or two, and got drunk some more. That’s my term summed up right there. Oh, with some added drama of course. Who can forget the drama? Hopefully next term will be considerably less dramaful. *crosses fingers*
And now I have a month in which to do … not much.

I had the first of two tests today. This one was for Other Americas. It was horrible.

Well, the first question wasn’t too bad - admittedly I panicked when I looked at the first section because it was either answering on something from Week 1 that I hadn’t bothered to re-read in my revision, or the Cuban revolution, which I didn’t revise either. But then I realised that the first question wasn’t as scary as it seemed and rambled about Native Americans and the way in which they were treated by the Spanish settlers.

The second section, on the other hand? Ugh. It was a question on rootlessness vs. a question on magical realism. Seriously, what kind of word is rootlessness? Not being entirely sure what it meant, I did the question on magical realism. I wish I’d gone with my gut feeling on what rootlessness meant and done that question instead, because I had literally nothing to write about magical realism. I’m not sure my answer even stretched to a page in length.

And I have another test - for Foundations of America - tomorrow at 9am.
Still, at least I’ll be done for the term by 10.30.