Life...

...is a bit all over the place at the moment. Last Thursday was results day and I got Bs in English Language and Media Studies, and As in Psychology and Spanish. Myself, Eliza, Danny and Eleanor went out on Friday evening as a sort of celebration which was very much needed after not seeing them since Monday 11th July. It's bad that I know that, right?

Other than that I've been spending a lot of time at my grandma's house gardening and restoring bits of the garden. She has a HUGE tree that, when we were little, myself, Amy and George (yes, that's us in that awful picture...and Winnie the Pooh...) used to make dens underneath. And by make dens, I mean we pretty much set up home underneath that tree. We had fencing and everything. 


I decided to make it my little mission to clear around the tree - everything was overgrown and several plants - including a huge, definitely unwanted holly bush - made it impossible to get anywhere near the tree. 

We started off by pulling the yellow slide we had out from underneath the tree - somehow it ended up at my grandma's house and somehow it ended up on its side underneath 'the katkin tree', and nobody ever thought to move it because nobody is anywhere near young enough to care about it anymore. 

Me, my grandma and my brother (Daniel) spent two afternoons cutting and sawing away at the tree and bits around it until the ground was finally clear. Arguably, it's nowhere near the same at almost 18 as it was when I was 8, but there it was - childhood.

Ten years ago, I would have been sitting on a little wooden chair underneath that very same tree, tidying up our 'house' or 'cooking for us all' - you know, taking care of the home... And now? Exactly the same. Only now, it's not pretend. Harvesting the blackberries, potatoes and tomatoes now is exactly the same as when we used to harvest the 'egg flowers' (don't even ask...), only now, it's real. 

We even had our own little shed. I remember painting it with Amy and George one afternoon. It used to be the shed at my house, and then we kind of outgrew it and it got moved to my grandma's house. We painted the shed outside, we painted it a pale blue inside, we found some old fabric and made a curtain to go against the window, someone put down left over carpet, we had a table, chairs, we even had a painting that I believe was created by Amy. We had a 'patio' at the back and, again, we put fencing up and made it our own little house. But this was after the days of the tree dens, of course. 

And then I went to high school, Amy left high school, George was still in high school, and the magic of childhood very slowly began to fade away. Grandma's house - the symbol of my childhood - was suddenly just a house. 

But, recently, I've realised that no matter how old I am and how mature I think I am, one thing will always remain the same - memories. I know that I'll be able to walk around that garden and see it as something much, much more than just a garden. And, while life might seem terrible, my memories will always be there to carry me through.

So it might be goodbye to childhood, but it's hello to growing up, and I can't say I mind at all.


Besos ♥ 
Rachel 

Crispy Air

If you spoke to me right now, you wouldn't be able to tell that my AS results day is tomorrow. I'm completely unfazed by the whole thing at the moment, which I'm taking as a good thing because I started shaking 24 hours in advance of my GCSE results...

Tonight, I've been staying sane by reading through my Facebook profile and laughing hysterically to myself about the memories created - crispy air, Fo Te, Nacho Macho Woman...

The truth is that even if I get horrible results tomorrow, I know I'll always have been so lucky to have such good friends and wonderful memories. 

Good luck to everybody getting their AS and A2 results tomorrow! :)


Besos ♥ 
Rachel  

Misadventures in French

While I was in France, I was the designated linguist. Despite frequently telling my parents that I don't speak or study French, they seemed to believe that if you can speak one language, you can speak them all. 

Although not a proper 'misadventure', linguistics first made an appearance while on the ferry to France. I'd told Sophie I'd buy her some French magazines or newspapers for reading practice (not even because I'm just kind like that, it's more because I know how obsessed she is with French) so I did so on the ferry. Because I was buying a French magazine and paying in euros, naturally, the cashier thought I was in French. That was awkward. It's a good job I knew how much it cost because I could never do French numbers...

The 'misadventures' began when we arrived at the holiday home we were staying in to find a note from the owner that was entirely in French. Now, let me tell you, 00:13am CET is NOT a good time to be translating paragraphs and guessing verb conjugations in a language you haven't studied for about 3 years. 

The next morning, we had a visit from the owner herself...who only spoke French. I had to follow my parents around the house with a dictionary and a phrasebook, and ended up in situations such as my mum yelling ''Rach, what's 'early' in French?'' at me from across the room. 

We went to Dinan for the day on Tuesday which was where my proudest French moment came. We went into an ice-cream shop and my parents decided that I could ask for my own, because apparently it's better to look like typical Brits and point at flavours rather than ask for them in French. Somehow, I managed to go 'je voudrais un citron et framboise, s'il vous plait'. And no, I literally have no idea which part of my mind 'je voudrais' was sitting in, just waiting patiently for it to be remembered, but it was there. My brother, who studies French now, only ever managed 'mercy' (no, not 'merci'...) and my parents stood pointing at things and going ''M&Ms''.

The house owner came back on the Friday evening and once again, my parents seemed to think I could speak French. This time, I ended up in a slightly mental situation in which I was interpreting what the woman said. Now, I've tried interpreting - it's hard enough English to English, let alone a language you don't speak to English. The owner would say something and I'd have to wait until she repeated it slowly and then translate the words I knew and guess the rest. I think she asked us if it was our first visit to the region at one point. I don't know... Best of all, my parents only ever responded in English. I'm there interpreting for them in a language I don't know and my parents are there going ''yep, yep...yeah, sure". Honestly...

Before I'd even reached the country, I was reminded how important language skills are. My parents spent a lot of time going ''She owns a cottage that she rents out, she should speak English'' and my only response was ''Why should she? You don't speak any other language, so why should she?"

More than that, though, I was once again reminded how rewarding languages are. Being able to communicate in a language that isn't your mother tongue is incredibly rewarding. I was ridiculously proud of myself for that ice-cream shop moment, and that's the point - the ability to break down a language barrier is hard enough, but as we learnt at Linguastars, the ability to break down your own fear barrier is even harder. 

If anything, my 'misadventures' have taught me that you shouldn't be scared of other languages. OK, so maybe your pronunciation will be terrible (I spoke in a Spanish accent everytime I said anything in French...) and maybe your tenses won't be the greatest, but the effort is there. And let me tell you, I greatly appreciated one of the waiters we had attempting to speak English, even if it was only ''to drink?''.

Have you had any 'misadventures' in a foreign language recently? Leave us a comment if so :)

Bisous ♥ 
Rachel 

The Wandering Soul

They are lit only by the faint glow of a streetlamp and the stars of the night sky. There is a chill in the air that callously holds their weary bodies in its clutches. It floods their shadows, fills their hearts, distorts their minds. Their despair is tangible, yet, as their eyes slowly meet, they do not move.

A million thoughts flash through their minds. Their aching limbs reach out into the night air, desperately clutching at somebody that understands, somebody that knows, but there is nobody there. They yearn for somebody and, as they let their delicate, powerless bodies sink into the grass, they can but remember - how things were, how things should have been. Yet, they are here, isolated and with the troubles of this great earth upon them.

One day, with time, they will meet again. They will lie side by side in the grass, hidden from the world, under a blanket of stars. Their weary fingers will meet and they will no longer exist. She will walk through the night, her old friend far out of sight but never closer. She will step forward into the light of day with her aching heart eased by the sunrise. With that heart, she will embrace her new life. And she will know that while she may be isolated, she will never be alone.

30 Days

Today marks 30 days, roughly a month, until I get to see a friend I haven't seen in about 4 years. Am I excited? YES!

It has been WAY too long since moments like this (see pic). My very first blog post was about her and how our friendship came to be. To sum up our friendship perfectly, here's a quote from that post:
"We left a strange boy from our class on top of her climbing frame at a party once, but I think we can be forgiven considering he always claimed he was from Mars..."

We really did just become best friends the moment we met. Her, her mum, and her little sister Gemma visited my primary school for the day because they were moving up to Yorkshire soon and were looking at potential schools for Rachel (and eventually, Gemma). We played together all lunchtime and then I remember just hoping she'd join our school for months until she finally did - and that was it, the start of a beautiful friendship :) :P

She moved to Melton Mowbray in 2003/2004 and we visited each other's houses whenever we could, and then in high school we kind of drifted. Then, last year, she was having a really rough time with some problems that were going on and we ended up talking (one of the few good things about Facebook) and she sent me the sweetest message anybody has ever sent me. And yeah, I cried a little a lot. Haha.

I never really get excited about anything. But this? I'm already counting down until the morning TV duo (don't even ask...), name twins and bad influences (on each other) are reunited. Aren't birthdays the best?

Besos ♥ 
Rachel 

Sooner or Later

I drove past my old school today. They've put up the new signs for it becoming an academy. Finally, some solid closure on school ending. CHS is no longer CHS. School is moving on and so am I.

Results day is on the 18th(?). Year 12 will properly be over. I don't even care about my Media result anymore. In fact, I'm only bothered about Spanish and Psychology because I already know I've passed English and based on my exam and coursework, I should get either a B or an A. I'll probably cry at my Spanish result. I probably won't at Psychology because it's not what I want to study after college.

I go back to college on the 5th. I'll get a new tutor, a new form. I thought it would really upset me that I'm not likely to have Tim as my tutor again, but for some reason, I'm looking forward to the change and I'm not bothered by it at all.

I'm ill. This makes it pretty much a month of being ill, with three different 'illnesses'. I can't even blame it on being stressed this time, because I'm pretty much doing nothing all day every day, though I suppose there are other things (people) that continue to stress me out...

Yesterday my dad came home from work with two thank you cards from his side of the family to let us know they'll be attending my party. Before January, I wouldn't have even recognised some of these people in the street, but I've seen them more this year than in the past ten years, and it means so much to me that they're coming. When I got back from Poland and went straight to my Great Auntie Helen's birthday party in Doncaster, she was the first person to greet me (with a ridiculously huge hug, haha) and made sure I was alright all evening. Because my Nana died when I was young, I've never really known her side of the family (except my Great Uncle Joe) and now that I've managed to reconnect with them again this year, I don't want that connection to break again. I was worrying about them not being able to attend and then, right when so many family members had replied saying they'd be busy, I got those cards.


What I'm slowly learning is that sooner or later, things will happen - things that I have no control over. Control is something I have/have had major issues with. I can only assume it stems from starting high school and having friends that liked controlling what everybody else did. I absolutely hated it and I remember feeling so free when I finally made friends with Fern and Aiden properly in year eight because they were just normal. Now, when I don't have control of a situation, I'm reminded of all of that and that's where I struggle. I find it hard to realise that it's not somebody trying to control me, it's just that it has to happen. 


I've had some serious issues with my friends in the past few months. Things just seemed to turn awkward overnight and nobody knew why. Some of us were just paranoid and thought everybody was talking about us behind our backs. People gave each other strange looks and nobody knew why. I took all of these things personally. I thought I'd done something but couldn't work out what. I'd ask Eliza what was going on and she'd be clueless. 


In truth, I don't think there was anything going on with others, but there was something going on with me. I'd stopped making an effort. I'd felt a little awkward and just given up. In Poland, when we were all talking, I made a remark about getting on better with the group there than my friends and one of the teachers seemed shocked (and then went on to tell us a story about ditching her friends...) that I'd admitted it. But, the raw truth is that I've been a bad friend for a while now, and I want to change that.


I've made a conscious effort to keep in contact with certain people since college ended for summer, one person I don't even know well but feel like I have a lot in common with; another I only met by chance at a meeting I wasn't even supposed to be part of (hi, Sophie!); and the majority I've been friends with since school.


It's not even that I expected people to make an effort with me and for me to be able to do nothing in return. It actually stemmed from a lack of effort from certain people and me just feeling thoroughly rejected, and those feelings somehow spread to everybody, pretty much. I know it's about the compromise between me being my usual busy, committed, academically-focused self, and me letting those things go and being fun to be around. 

For so long (pretty much since I started high school, actually) I've continually beaten myself up about not being able to figure out that balance. But you know what? I'm only seventeen, I have the rest of my life to figure that out. For now, I'm doing the best I can and if that's not enough for some people, then maybe it's not just me who needs an attitude check...


Besos ♥ 
Rachel

"Trying to swim but you're sinking like a stone, alone" - Sooner or Later - Mat Kearney

Diamonds are a girl's best friend...and beads...and charms...

I got back from France late last night after 16 hours of travelling. I'll do a post on that some other time. Right now I'm mainly thinking about one thing: jewellery.

Since my purchase of some craft pliers at some point last year my love for creating pieces of jewellery has continued to grow steadily. In fact, I've found that I haven't purchased a necklace in a long time, and I only really wear necklaces that I've made myself now. Why? I'm not really sure. Firstly, I just seem to prefer wearing homemade jewellery, it just seems more personal. I'm not really one for expensive jewellery, clothes, shoes, bags etc. Secondly, I just find that jewellery in the shops at the moment (even my favourite - Accessorize) is so...fashion conscious. I know that's the point of it, but the nicest things in the shops are always ruined by something that the designer's just attached to make it fit a line, and you usually find that it adds at least a fiver to the price. Aside from that, I'm bored of seeing the same jewellery reworked in shops. 

Homemade jewellery, on the other hand, is exactly what you want it to be. If you have the time and the patience, you can make yourself something for less than it would cost in a shop and without the annoyance of bits you don't like attached to it.

There is a point to all of this, I promise.

While in France, we had a day trip to Dinan - a little medieval town somewhere in Brittany. We went because I found out that my favourite bead shop, Yum Yum Beads, from Leeds has a shop there - La Perlerie. Well, we walked about for hours looking for it, and it turned out to be at the bottom (almost) of a massive hill. Now, if you know me, you'll know I don't like hills...ha. It was so worth it, though. Firstly, the woman that served me was English, so it didn't even matter that I completely lost count of how much money I was spending and I didn't have to interpret her French because it was all in English. Yay! Secondly, they had so much more than the shop in Leeds. Seriously, I could've bought everything. I spent about €22 but could've spent way more if I'd wanted to, there was just SO MUCH to choose from.


One problem, though, I didn't take my pliers, so I couldn't make anything while in France. What did I do today? This...

You may be looking at the second picture and thinking ''what on earth is that?'' - don't worry, I'm not sure myself. I was attempting to work out how a ring I bought a few years ago was made and I think I got close, but this attempt was, well, terrible. It's also already broken because I cut the nylon too short and couldn't tie it properly. Oh well, you live and you learn. PS: My nails are George at Asda in the shade of 'Troll' with a top coat of clear polish, it dries matte otherwise. The necklace I made is a stack of beads on a headpin on a 'silver' chain. Yes, the headpin is bronze. No, I didn't think about that until I'd finished making it. Again, oh well. 


So, forgive me for my slightly materialistic post, but I think a girl should be allowed to go a bit mental for jewellery every now and then, don't you? ;)


Besos ♥ 
Rachel