Oh yeah this thing

I wrote this after returning from a choir competition in November. So don't judge me, I had great intentions for this blog but as usual...yeah.

*Acts like she didn't leave for ages again*

Welcome back to my weekly blog where I post weekly. Every week.

I don't have a topic to talk about today. There are things that have been happening that I will write about soon. But at the moment I'm tired and I'm typing this on my phone.

Two days ago, Thursday I went to Sligo with the school choir to take part in the International Sligo Choral Festival. (I'm not sure why it's called international - there are only ever Irish choirs there.)

This is literally going to be a post telling the bones of what happened and nothing more. I'm too tired to be interesting.

We won the religious competition with Lift thine Eyes and Gaudete.

The second competition was the one we really cared about though. The Dancing Song is easily the most difficult song our choir has ever done and The Irish Blessing was pretty challenging too. Because TDS is unaccompanied there is the risk that we'll go out of tune.

We didn't go out of tune though. We sounded incredible, it was one of our best performances we've ever done with it. And the Irish Blessing was so beautiful.

We all know we deserved to win. Our songs were more difficult, more energetic and downright amazing. And yes I sound completely arrogant but I won't apologise for it. The winning choir were lovely and I understand that the judges wanted to award someone else. I probably would too if I were in their situation. We've won both competitions for the past two years. It was time someone else broke our monopoly.

I do feel somewhat cheated though. We should be judged on quality of the performance. One of the judges later told our teacher the Alto section sounded like 'liquid gold.' In the comments after both performances the judges said we sounded like a 'university choir' we had such maturity to our sound.

I'm really just documenting this for future reference. I no longer mind that we didn't win. We had so much fun learning and performing the pieces that the trophy seems irrelevant now. Of course our choral instructor will never believe that.

Is this Life?

Hi there. It's been a while since I've talked to you. How are you? That's great. I'm actually not in the best of moods right now. Allow me to elaborate.

My name is Kate. I'm seventeen years old and I live in Ireland. I'm still in formal Secondary school education but after this year I will finally be free. Here in Ireland we take a minimum of six subjects - most schools insist on seven - for the final two years of school before completing one exam on each of them, from which our overall grade from the six years we spent in school is calculated. As my Irish teacher is fond of telling us "Braitheann gach rud ar lá amaháin, i seachtain amháin i saol an dalta." Everything is hinged on one day, in one week in the life of a student. You might think this would lead to an immensely unhealthy amount of stress in people my age. You'd be abso-fucking-lutely right.

Another point on our schools: A lot of the teachers give students hand written notes or photocopied sheets for every topic studied which we keep in a folder or hard-back copy. Some of my classes don't use books at all - everything is in my teacher's own words. I'm not going to get into the pro and cons of this as a teaching method because personally I haven't too much of a problem with it. What I have a problem with is how we are told to study entirely from one set of notes. We are completely dependent on these notes for all of our study material and that makes me anxious. Spectacularly anxious.

That brings me to the reason I'm having a particularly bad two days. Because of the number of classes and the appalling amount of books and folders every student has each year has a communal locker in which we keep our folders which are too big to fit in our personal lockers. That is where I keep my biology notes folder in which every topic I've studied from the beginning of sixth year until now is hand written in the most concise notes any teacher has ever given me. (My biology teacher is incredible just fyi.) Last Wednesday I left my folder in the locker rather than bringing it home as I usually do. I did this 1. because I had so much other homework that I knew I wouldn't have time to study it that night and 2. I was exhausted and I just wanted to get an early night and do as little as possible. The next day was Thursday and first thing that morning I went to the folder locker to retrieve my biology notes. You can probably see where this is going. My folder was gone and no matter how many times I checked under and behind the other contents of the locker I couldn't find it.

I didn't immediately stress out. I'll admit I was a little worried but I thought maybe it's at home? I was only about 95% sure I'd left it in school the previous day. Still, I looked around the general locker area and found nothing. Thursday evening I went home and wasn't at all surprised to find that my folder was not in my room where I normally study. That night - last night - I wrote a Facebook post asking if anyone had seen it around the school. I think the comments let you know exactly how important these notes are to students. Here are some from people who are even my close friends offering help and sympathy.

I know you're probably thinking that we're just being melodramatic teenagers exaggerating every little hiccup that happens in our life. I was honestly close to tears today looking for the folder again in school. Yet another note on my school: we don't have a lost and found system. We've never had an effective one in all the years I've been in that institute but today I went to the caretaker to ask if there was any system of collecting lost items and he told me there was nothing. If you lose something you look for it and if it doesn't turn up, too bad. I walked all over the school three times today searching for it everywhere and I had friends helping and it's just not anywhere. I don't want to think that someone has taken it intentionally but there is literally no alternative at this point. I was hoping it would turn up but after two days I don't know what else to do.

I'd be the first to admit that I'm not the most organised person in the world. But i'm also not a careless person. I've never lost a book or even a copy in the six years I've spent in secondary school and now someone has taken the most valuable study notes I own. Life is fucking awesome.

I know my stress levels are increased because I'm exhausted and other stuff is happening and that's why I'm so upset over this. Wow I just wrote an entire post on my biology folder didn't I? Yeah sorry about that. Actually I'm not. I'm not even going to read back over this. #YOLO

Let's Never Break Up

I miss this blog. I miss pouring my heart out to my virtually non-existent reader base. I miss recording my mundane life story. I'm also going absolutely insane without you. Let's never break up.

So, What's new?

Alex Day is being a douchebag on the internet again. Hopefully I'll actually follow that sentence up with some context in a full blog post when I find the time. At the moment it's the middle of a school night and I still have a ton of homework to complete.

I'm in my final year of Secondary school and I hate everything and everyone. It therefore seems to make sense that I would return to the internet to vent my 3M0T!ONZ.

On the bright side: It's finally acting like autumn! October is upon us, officially my favourite month. We've got Halloween to look forward to, dark evenings, hot chocolate and marshmallows, winds howling half the night - what's not to love? I get that I might sound sarcastic but I truly love this time of year. I'd take a freezing bed over a sweaty summer afternoon any day.

I'm going to make you a promise right here and now. Please try to forget about the previous promises I made to you, I'm going to try really hard at this one. I'm going to blog once a week.

Are you still there? Don't freak out it's going to be okay I swear. I have a second blog which I'm sure I linked to in a previous post. Once a week I will post here or there and nowhere else. I'm going to make this work.

I feel like I'm not a person anymore, I'm just a skin-sack full of stress and procrastination and more stress. One of these days I'll go into detail about how you definitely should not do school. I've practically an expert.

Remember how a while ago I was going to stop procrastinating? You didn't really believe that would work, did you?

Other new, other news...Oh I'm entering a poetry reciting competition next week. Yep. Why you ask is a socially anxious glossophobe entering a competition that involves speaking in front of a large group of people? Because I can muddafucker. Because I persist in trying to prove to myself that I can and will not be held back by my emotional limitations. And because I get to miss a day of school to go to a boys' college. Bite me.

This was fun. I miss writing silly things on the internet that may potentially convince employers not to hire me. I live life to the fullest, I know.

So I guess I should now go do that homework that was due in today. Wow. I just love my freaking life.

Wait, it's September?

It's the same every year: summer swings around like a frisbee and I'm so busy trying to get into position to catch it that before I realise it, it's gone over my head.

I have less pictures than I'd like which is basically a recurring theme throughout all of my life. And on that note you can now follow me on Instagram! Hurray for getting with the social media of two years ago! Well done, Kate, you're finally catching up.

Today I really just want to recap on some of the things I did during the summer - the ones I have photos for because a picture says ten words or something like that. Firstly, as I mentioned previously, I dyed my hair blue and now I miss it terribly. I mean just look how gorgeous it looks?



                     

I don't have any pictures but when I returned to school I decided the best way to remove the blue would be to dye it black. Unfortunately that resulted in me having a green tinge in my hair for about a week before I dyed it brown again. I should have guessed that this wasn't going to help. I don't know what I was thinking. Anyway finally I dyed it red and now it's a dark cherry colour which I really like a lot. Although I think I may have dyed it so much that my hair can't hold dye anymore. Now when I wash my hair a WHOLE LOAD of dye washes out everytime. So I don't expect my colour to last very long.

I think I also mentioned in a previous post that I'm volunteering at the Kilkenny Arts Festival for the third year running. This year I was stationed in an inflated Luminarium (the Pentalum) which is more magical than Disneyland. More in a later post.

This is what my hair looked like in the several different domes of the Pentalum.

 

Red Dome

Photo courtesy of Danielle*, pictured right.

Colours 'n' Stuff

I'm realising that this just looks like an excuse for posting an excessive amount of selfies, and yet I proceed. Take what you will from that.

 During the Arts Festival this year I went to a lot of events. One of the best benefits of being a volunteer is that you are allowed free entry to any event that is a part of the festival. And let me tell you there are so many awesome things to go to. One thing I've regretted for the past two years that I've volunteered was that I only attending a couple of the available events. Mainly because I felt awkward going alone. This year though I sucked it up and just went along anyway and it was definitely more rewarding. (Even going with my mum to a couple of things was more fun than not going at all.)

'Secret Concert' in the castle park

My favourite by far though was the Kate Tempest concert I went to in the set theatre which subsequently got me hooked to her rap music and her poetry. I recommend you listen to her track Circles which is a personal favourite. And, well, everything else she's done too. I'm going to write a separate piece on that concert actually because it would become too long here.

 

The Shakespeare Globe Theatre performed as part of the festival for the third year in a row. I went to see their performance of Much Ado About Nothing twice because they're just that fantastic. I've gone to their performance at least once every year they've come to Kilkenny and every year they astound me. *Spoiler Alert. There's one scene in Much Ado About Nothing where a woman gets a basin of water poured on top of her. Bear in mind she has to do this every night for 10 days. That's artistic dedication.*

 

 Note the man sitting to the left in a gorgeous overcoat and hat.

That was my summer in photo format. Maybe you'll hear about sixth year from me soon but it's more likely that I won't be back until next summer so enjoy this post. I'm so tired.

*Danielle's blog

ROW 80: Reassess and Give Up?

I'm not going to lie because that wouldn't do any of us any good. It's been nearly two weeks since I've written anything. I'm volunteering at an art's festival at the moment but I know that's no excuse. None the less I'm going to drop out at least for a while. I've had a really great experience and ROW80 has helped me to do so much more writing that I ever would have otherwise. Everyone has been so lovely and encouraging but at the moment I can't continue. I hope everyone else is being more persistent than I am. I wish I could stick it with you. Keep writing, keep reading and keep dreaming! Have fun everyone and good luck.

I'm Blue (Da Ba Dee Da Ba Dye)

 I wrote the following on a bus journey home from Dublin several weeks ago. I'd spent the day shopping with my mum and eating nice food. Relevant points: I had recently dyed my hair a grungy, dirty blue colour after a failed bleach job. Update: I've now re-bleached my hair and dyed it a fabulous blueish-turquoise colour

It's strange to have people turn and stare openly at you as though they have earned the right. I know it's not at all the same thing but I can understand to a certain extent how people with physical disabilities must feel when they're stared at. It's like people don't realise it makes the stare-ee uncomfortable or else they just don't care. Some people you can see a hint of a smile in their eyes and know they they enjoy the hair colour but others are outright scary.

I was walking down Temple Bar in Dublin curiously looking for someone who looked like they were selling drugs when a middle aged couple walking towards me. I noticed them because the man was watching me with a malevolent intensity that immediately freaked me out. I never felt more vulnerable, like a rabbit looking into the eyes of a fox knowing that it was seen as nothing but prey. I was thinking, what is this creep's problem? I passed by them and nervously glanced back to watch him go. That was when I saw his partner, the woman staring back at me in disgust. My blue hair was at this time a new thing and this was my first proper public appearance with it. With this in mind my first instinct was to think that the creep's wife resented me because she saw me as some kind of fucked up competition. It took me a second to remember my hair and I thought, oh my god. That they were disgusted by my fashion seemed -incredibly- to make more sense than my original theory. People get offended by oddest things.

That's the bad kind of experiences. Other people are actually very funny though. I was sitting on a wall waiting for the bus to take me home and watching the passersby. I was noticing a great deal of people, who would normally glance at me and continue on or completely ignore me, examine me as they passed. One attractive young man I'd like to believe was particularly enamored by my beauty that his jaw literally dropped open in awe. Okay, the real story? I couldn't say for sure what age he was but early 20s anyway. I was leaning my head on my hand staring off into space when he passed in front of me. I'm not exaggerating here: his mouth fell open and he looked me up and down in pure amazement as though he'd never before seen the like. His eyes and mine met briefly and he held the gaze rather they looking away in embarrassment as was normal custom in these particular situations. It was one of those moments where you had to be there to appreciate how truly surprising and hilarious it was.
You know how in movies when they describe that intense moment where time slows down or stops entirely? As usual Hollywood got it wrong. For me it was more like every one of my senses were suddenly enhanced and became as acutely awake as Peter Parker's. I felt like I was able to take in 100 times the detail I normally could. The encounter lasted no more than a second but I was able to write a lengthy paragraph on it, all the same.

Reassessing My Goals

At this point in my project I'm almost at the end of the storyline. That's not to say that I've said everything I want or need. Which means I have to do a certain amount of backtracking and rewriting. So my goal for the next week is to spend an hour everyday working on my project in some form. I don't expect to get my 800 words written every day but that's not the most important thing now.

Good luck to everyone else this weeks and thanks for all the encouragement you've been giving me!

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Writing is hard. Writing every day is hard. Being a writer is hard. I've fallen a bit behind in my writing schedule. I could blame it on writer's block or I could say my grandmother died, you won't know if I'm lying either way. Truth is I just haven't tried in a couple of days. Okay, I did try but not hard enough. I know this is a character flaw and it's no excuse but writing is hard.

I don't mean to whine, honestly. I don't have a lot of perseverance. I'm working on it I promise.

I need to stop making promises. I never keep them.

Let's Get Together and Write

This is my Sunday check in with ROW80. I've kept to my word count of 800 per day and made up on my lost time as well giving me a grand total of 4867 words. I'm realising more than ever that the first draft is always going to be really shitty. I know my idea is good and I know I have some writing ability but at the moment the idea isn't coming together how I'd like. This is partly because I'm still not one hundred percent sure of everything I want to convey.

I'm enjoying the writing process however and I'm very optimistic about where this is going. Bring on week two!

And always remember, writing is when you make the sentences. Editing is when you make them good.

An Arctic Monkeys' Concert and Other Firsts

Yesterday, the 12 of July marked a lot of firsts for me. Many of them my seem incidental but trust me they are very important. Let's go through some of them.

First Concert
After many struggles and arguments - see here for details - my parents finally allowed me to go to an Arctic Monkeys concert. I have never exactly understood the huge appeal of concerts - I mean you're lost in a crowd of smelly strangers with a limited view of the stage and the act with everyone screaming and singing out of tune right next to your ear. Doesn't sound fantastic. But it was. It was so fantastic. It's a really freeing and exciting feeling to be surrounded by thousands and thousands of people who feel at least as passionately about the music they're listening to as you do. I don't remember the last time I felt so alive, so liberated.

First time to be chatted up by an older guy
Before the concert began my friends and I were sitting on a grassy area talking and waiting. This group of guys were sitting next to us and one of them turns to me and asks what my favourite Arctic Monkey's songs is. In my surprise I stupidly say the first thing that comes into my head which doesn't happen to be a song at all. 'Do you wanna know' is definitely not an Arctic Monkeys' song. What I'd meant was 'Do I wanna know' and I might of gotten away with it but unfortunately he noticed. Not to mention that is definitely not my favourite song. These guys looked about twenty-two and when I was asked what age I was I hesitated for a moment, considered lying and then decided it was unlikely to achieve any desirable end so I went with the truth - seventeen. I then returned the question and he also hesitated, probably the same thoughts going through his head as had just passed through mine. Except he apparently came to a different conclusion and replied, eighteen. Pfft. Yeah right. We talked for a bit about the band and the other acts and then moved on.

First Mosh-Pit
Myself and my friends were pretty near to the front of the crowd when we suddenly found ourselves in a mosh-pit. It just started, out of nowhere and we were just like - this is not where we want to be. If we hadn't made our way out of it we would have been shoved out of it pretty soon anyway.

First UFO
I'm aware that flying bottles and rubbish are a common thing at concerts. What I was not expecting was a heavy, pink schoolbag to fall though the air, hitting my friend on the head. It had barely landed when someone caught it up again and chucked it away, back into the crowd. I mean, whatever you're into right?

First time to remove an unwanted arm from a shoulder
By the time the main act came on we were tired of being sandwiched between people, grinded on and pushed back and forth so we moved to the outer side of the crowd and watched much more comfortably from there. My friend Danielle and I were minding our own business and enjoying the band and then a guy about our age glanced back at Danielle. Then he did it again immediately after almost as you would if you had just recognised someone. Then he did it a third time like she had a fucking elephant on her head or something. Naturally enough Danielle and I had a bit of a laugh at this strange encounter. It might be relevant to add that I'm pretty certain he was smoking weed. But then a while later we had moved so that we were standing next to the guy who I might mention was singing incorrect lyrics also. Anyway he was with his girlfriend and they looked pretty cosy with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Then suddenly Danielle stared at me and I looked at her to see what was up. She looked shocked and I was really surprised to see an arm around her shoulder. She told me later that she had thought it was my arm around her at first. The weed-smoking, lyric-failing guy had his right arm wrapped around his girlfriend and his left draped over Danielle's shoulder. It was the strangest, thing to see and Danielle just looked to perplexed and unsure what to do that I asked her if I should move his arm. So I sort of knocked this guy's arm off her shoulder and we went back to enjoying the music.

First time to be mistaken for a babysitter
We were trying to make our way out of the main crowd area after the third supporting act. My previously mentioned friend Danielle is a small Filipina. As we were trying to push through the hoards of squashed bodies and defiant concert goers she heard someone say something like "Let them through there's a child!" Which of course we found very amusing afterwards.

First time to have literally no idea what is happening
When Danielle and I went out to the edge of the crowd this cute couple came up to us suddenly and started asking us frantic questions so quickly with such a strong accent that neither of us had a clue what was happening. They sounded so anxious like the answers to the questions were the most important things in the universe and they needed them right now. All I could make out was that they were asking us something about Alex Turner (Arctic Monkeys' front man, notorious asshat). Danielle actually thought they were talking a different language they were so incomprehensible. So the two of us just stared blankly at them completely lost for words. And then the couple began to look really worried and also confused and scared. It just made for a really strange, confusing encounter. But once they slowed down and actually started talking sense they turned out the be the sweetest. I've completely forgotten their names now but when they introduced themselves the boy said "I'm __ and this is my girlfriend __ she's fucking perfect" in the most nonchalant, casual way possible. They were completely adorable and just a bit drunk.

First time to not have a pen when I needed it
Let me tell you something about myself. I always bring a pen with me. Wherever I go. Even if I don't bring paper I bring a pen. Yesterday morning I had to minimise the space I took up in my bag so that I could fit my jacket in it if it got really hot. I decided there was probably no reason I might need a pen at a concert and so I left it out. As it happens I never put my jacket in my bag. On the bus ride home I couldn't help eavesdropping on a conversation in the seat behind me relating to Breaking Bad one of my all-time favourite TV shows. Then one of the boys leaned forward and asked if I had a pen so he could draw on his friend's face. Yep. The perfect conversation opener into a conversation I really wanted to join and nope. Nope. No pen. Jesus, I will never leave a pen out again.

First time to crush on a nameless faceless man
Let's just say that guy who asked me for a pen? By the end of that bus journey I had maybe a small crush on him. He just sounded really interesting okay! I think we'd get on well.
I never even saw his face though because the bus was so dark. So I don't know his name or what he looks like but I know the sound of his voice and I know we're totally soul-mates. Things will work themselves out.

First cigarette burn
Pretty self explanatory. A man next to me was smoking and carelessly waving around his cigarette which was held against my arm for a second before I realised what I was feeling. Yeah, I was feeling a red hot ember pressed against my skin.

First time to have someone spill a drink on me
Not long after the cigarette incident one of the women that was there with the man spilled some sort of weird drink that smelt like herbal tea down my leg. I'm basically living every Hollywood High School party where the unpopular girl gets a drink accidentally spilled on her by the jealous popular girl. #lifecomplete