4. Jenson Button

I was watching Top Gear and Jeremy Clarkson turns to Jenson Button and says (and I'm paraphrasing here) "Last time you said you'd trade all the cash and the glitz and glamour for that first win, and now you've got that, is it still true for the championship?"

To which Jenson replied yes.

He won the championship in 2009 with Brawn, but like all champions (except maybe Kimi Raikkonen) the most important thing is that second, third, fourth title that 23 other men are going to do their best to take for themselves.

I always admire people who have such passion for their work. If we all had the attitude that our personal success in our jobs - or in other areas like family and friendships - would lead to more happiness than acquiring money then I think the world would be a better and more productive place.

I don't want to drive an F1 car. I want to be a clinical psychologist. The two are very different but the that I'm getting at is the same. Jenson worked his way up through the lower formulas to an F1 race seat in 2000 and then achieved that magical championship 9 years later. It was his dream realised after several hundred thousand pounds and a lifetime of hard work and competitive spirit. I've done 12 years of school, two at college and I'm about to complete the first of a three year degree which will be followed by work experience and a PhD - with stress levels rising along with the competition and my debt. I could just give up, try a field with less competition, but why should I give up on my dreams just because I could do something easier for the same end salary?

In the end, it doesn't come down to the money. I got into uni before the fee increase but I'd probably still have gone through all of this at £9000 a year rather than the £3000 I'm paying at the moment. Its not about the money. It doesn't matter if I'll be paying for this part of my life for the rest of my life, as long as I am where I want to be.

Jenson was willing to trade all of his luxuries and riches to stand on the top step and later to lift the championship trophy and that kind of passion should be an inspiration to us all.

This isn't to say that I would do a graduate job for minimum wage, and you've misunderstood if you think that's what I've said. I'd like to live on my own or with a partner in a place that's big enough for everything I need. I have to be able to afford internet, TV, phones and music. I need to be able to keep myself looking good and have some way to get myself around without resorting to spirit crushing public transport. All of these things will make me better at my job(s) which will make my dream easier to realise and continue with. We often call these things 'luxuries' and I guess in a way they are and I spent the first part of this post arguing against them but these kinds of things will be weighed against the impact that I can have if I have them all and I am the best that I can be.

Lastly, I want to be able to pay back my student loans and boost the economy, so other people in the future can realise their dreams.

For Jenson, its about being the best in the world at something and that is rarely a bad thing to aim for. I would go so far as to say that an improbably large proportion of the world has heard his name at some point. I don't care if people know my name, I'm not looking to be famous to everyone; just to be a positive force in the world with the troubled individuals I will inevitably come across in my line of work.

I can't speak for Jenson about his fame, but I would think it would be safe to assume that he doesn't care if people know his name, as long as he can say 'World Champion' afterwards.

We all have different goals, but if we all had the same attitude and passion that you see in men like Jenson Button, I feel like we'd all do better to achieve them.

Picture perfect painted smile

I never wore a lot of make-up for the first half of high school.

While the 'popular' girls discovered foundation I barely knew how to apply mascara. It was never an issue to me, I was always happy with the way I looked.

I guess I didn't care what I looked like, there was never any reason for me to look my best because there was never anybody I was interested in looking good for.

When the hormones kicked in age 13 and I also started dying my hair dark as I was going through a 'goth phase' which I didn't really grow out of, despite now having blonde hair and currently wearing a floral top. I started wearing heavy eyeliner and resenting being told to take it off. I was convinced there was a double standard; the orange girls were never told to take their layers of the wrong shade foundation off - probably because they would quit the sports teams if the sports staff had a go at them. I was probably right about the double standard but I was young and didn't know how to deal with it.

At college I changed to just mascara and lip gloss, I still didn't see the appeal in foundation, I'd never been taught how to choose the proper shade or how to put it on and I found women at cosmetic counters in department stores a little intimidating.

But one day sat in the back corner of our college library (as we always did) my good friend Beth told me to stop moaning about the state of the skin on my nose and smoothed some of her foundation over it. She then thought it made a good fit and applied a little along my jawline to check it was as good a match as it looks. She didn't know it then, but she had created a monster.

I lasted about 6 months only applying foundation to my nose - covering up the slight difference in colour by the skin being dragged by a bump in the middle - before progressing to applying it to my T-Zone to cover spots for a night out. Now, I wear foundation all over my face, everyday. I was taught to apply it by the girls at college and I've never looked back.

You always hear about girls calling other girls 'fake' because of their application of make-up in this way; and in some sense I agree with this because the skin tone you see on my face is not the skintone that I actually have. My eyes aren't as big as the eyeliner tricks your eyes into thinking they are and my lips are not that dark. My eyelashes are not as long as my quest for the best mascara is gradually making them look; but that is what you see when you look at me. And it isn't a case of what you see is what you get like a lot of people think it is, it is far from that. What you see is what I want you to see, and I don't see any problem with this.

I don't wear make-up to be more attractive to other people. Whether that is or isn't a side effect is up to you to decide and not me; but it isn't the reasoning behind why I do it. If anything, I wear make-up to make me more attractive to me. Sometimes I look in the mirror and can't believe how ugly I look. I hate my spots and my bumpy nose and the fact that one of my eyes is bigger than the other and it does restrict how I think about myself; no matter how much I try to convince myself that it doesn't. An application of foundation and mascara can make me confident enough in myself to face the day if my self-confidence is hit - even if it's only because I don't want to have wasted the effort.

So if I look in the mirror after applying full make-up following a few days slap free and feel like I look fake, it's probably a good sign and not me insulting myself. And I'm certainly not comparing myself to the girls in high school - it's not natural, but it's not orange.

BAM

They're not perfect, they're not symmetrical, but nothing is perfect and I can still fly even with broken wings.

Post-hoc poetry.

I had an idea for a new sub-anthology, details will follow if it actually gets anywhere. It's 13 poems, all based (loosely) around certain things that have happened at uni. I don't want to give too much away in case I decide I hate them all after they're written and they never see the light of day (although the first two that I wrote have been shown to one of my best friends).

Problem is, the idea came afterwards. I'm writing poetry post-hoc and it's causing some problems with dating and ordering the poems in the anthology.

I've tried to order them chronologically based on when the original events happened. This has taken some time and pouring over my diary trying to figure out what nights out happened when and when certain information become public and it's not been easy trying to put events with times.

But I think I've managed it, the last date just fell into place; remembering being filled in about the details of a weekend when I wasn't at uni.

I date my poetry. I've said this before in my post that was purely about poetry, and the date I include is usually the date that the poem is written in first draft form. But these poems are different.

The question I have is: Do I date the poems based on their first draft completion, or do I give them the date from when the event they're based on happened?

I could just include both, but that seems like a cop out. If you have any thoughts, please let me know.

Are you happy with where you are in life right now? Take 2

I missed my re-evaluation deadline. I don't tend to miss deadlines but those three months turned into almost 4, but here we are. (If you don't know what I'm talking about go here: http://dft.ba/-5things).

In short: 5 things I wish I could change about my life at this very moment.

1. Not speaking to my family as much as I used to.

This is a big thing for me. Last term we used to speak almost daily and now we hardly speak at all. It's partly down to me being busy at times when they're free and them being busy at times when I'm free. It's not all that difficult to make the extra effort, but these things happen and things slip through the cracks.

2. My pool ability.

And I was doing so well. I'm not really a quitter, but I imagine Sarah hates me for the amount of times I've been threatening to quit the pool team over the last 7 days. They say practice makes perfect but the more I've been practising recently the more I've been losing by huge margins (and by that I mean three 7-balls in the last week - Chris, Joanna and Dani) and then my confidence takes a knock and I don't want to play anymore. I don't want to give up because I have dreams of playing for Roses in my third year; but when you're playing as bad as I have been it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The worst part is knowing what you're doing wrong and knowing how to fix it and trying the best you possibly can to fix it and failing; because that's the point that you feel completely useless.

Although we did discover the secret to my success on Wednesday after our match. It turns out that all I need is a bottle of Lucozade two hours before playing and half a cider just before I play and I can beat Joanna 3-1.

3. Susceptibility to illness.

So recently I've had a cold, a stomach bug and now some nasty cold/flu-like symptoms including headache, sore throat, nausea and fever. I know it could be due to the stress I keep putting myself under by spending too much of my time playing pool, but it's starting to get annoying. I'm hoping on a period of good health to set me up for my week 10 deadline; fingers crossed.

4. Inability to respond to stress until very serious.

I'm not a night-before kind of person. I very rarely write an essay the day before it's due in and my last three assignments before week 8 were all handed in just under 24 hours before deadline. However, Psych 102 for Monday and Psych 101 for Friday were finished at 5am on Monday and Friday respectively. It's still not last-minute per say, they were both ready a good few hours before the deadline and there was even time for sleep while I asked my mum to proofread them before handing in, but it's still not like anything I've ever done before. I used to know a deadline was looming and start writing a week beforehand and keep going at a steady pace until it was done. Both assignments were started early enough but then ignored for too long a period of time until the night before work was necessary and I had to scramble to make up to my word limits while just wanting to go to bed. This kind of thing can't carry on happening and I imagine it can't could have contributed to the scratchiness in my throat and the mild pounding in my head.

5. Relationship status.

And here's the one that makes me look shallow. Of course I'm looking for love, I'm an 18 year old Fresher for God's sake; now is the time if there ever was one. I've pulled twice in clubs this term, but both straight girls, so not really an option for a relationship there. I've never been one for peer pressure, but it seems like everyone else at uni is getting some and I'm not. Maybe I'm a little bit jealous - so shoot me, at least I'll admit to it.

Re: Tattoos

I haven't blogged in over a month, so I decided to do a quick one to fill you in on the flash of inspiration I just had.

As you'll see below, I got a tattoo last month. It's almost totally healed and now I want another one. I was warned this would happen; everyone who has a tattoo says how addictive they are and I have to say I understand what they mean.

I sort of made a decision. I'm slightly sleep deprived so I'm writing it down so I don't forget but also to ask your opinions (even if I don't end up paying attention to them). I think I decided what to get next.

I wrote a poem (I do that: http://dft.ba/-postaboutpoetry) a while ago. Writing is a process that takes me a long time. I write and then I edit and re-write and sometimes I throw everything out and start again. It's torturous. I date my poems so I can remember what stage of my life I was at, but the date included is the date they were first written. If I kept datestamps of revisions I'd have more words in the footer than in the body of the poem.

The only thing that is free of this process in terms of my creativity is this blog. It's written and posted often before I have the chance to subject it to any kind of editing process. I rarely read back a blog post and if I do I tend to change things, which isn't really what I want to do. My blog is supposed to be a raw experience of me and my search for myself - not an edited version of what I think reflects me best.

My Lonely Little Girl carries the datestamp of 24/11/2007. It's almost finished. Or rather it's almost to the point where I would be happy to publish it. Publishing is something that both excites and terrifies me - to share my creativity with the world is always something that I would like to do but at the same time once it's out there in print then no further editing can take place. It's stuck like that. People have already read it as it is and if you change it they'll just get annoyed with you.

If you've read the poem you may have noticed the changes in different versions if I kept you up to date - or notice differences between the version you read and the final version if I didn't. There is a pretty strict rhyme structure which I've agonised over trying to keep while also maintaining good grammar but I think it's almost there.

As you can see from the title, the poem is about a 'lonely little girl', which is all I'm telling you about the poem - you'll have to wait and read it. The idea I had was when I decide that it is finished and have a final version which I will look to get published, I would get a tattoo. Because I'm addicted and because I just had the idea.

A silhouetted figure of a little girl.

A little skirt, pigtails, maybe holding a balloon; I haven't decided on the specifics, I only had the inspiration half an hour ago. I just fell in love with it as an idea. As for the placement, well I haven't decided that yet either. I want to steer clear of my spine for the time being till I'm a little more brave so that puts the original idea of the back of my neck between my shoulders out and I was planning on some angel wings for my shoulders and a song lyric down my spine once I get really addicted.

Specifics and placement need a lot of work, but I just fell in love with the idea.

Let me know what you think if you like. My mum says that when you think about getting a tattoo you should have a reason for getting it. After all they're permanent, and you'd hate to end up regretting it. I've met people who hate to hear the sob story behind a tattoo and find it cheesy, but if it means something to you then you won't regret it. My rosebud is a symbol of me blooming into a new person as I started my new life at uni and my little girl will tie in with my poem, and the first one I have published (fingers crossed).

Then there's the angel wings so I can fly and be whatever I want to be, the lyric 'time will be the judge of all here' which is a message I try to live by and the fully opened rose above the rosebud that's already there to signal the end of my stay at uni - although those three are in the future.

I already catalogue my life with my poetry, but there's no reason not to have two records of the same thing.

Sickness and Health

I got a tattoo. I said I would and I did it.It's a rosebud, in orange, on my lower calf/upper ankle. It was really pretty when it was first done and it'll be really pretty when it's healed.

However, it isn't pretty now.

It appears to be leaking orange ink. I have asked a few people who also said that their ink started to leak for the first few days and my dad said something about them putting in too much colour to cover against things like this happening.

I've never had a tattoo be

fore, I don't know if this is something to worry about. My mum has one but her's is on her shoulder so she wouldn't have noticed so much and my dad has two but had them so long ago he doesn't remember. I'm not entirely sure what to do.

I had a similar issue when I had a nasty cold at uni. I've had colds before, but I've never been sick on my own before. I've always had my mum to stroke my hair and give me medicine and fetch me water, but most of all to tell me when I need to worry about something.

I had an issue with my throat (I won't give you details because it's kind of gross), and I rang her up before my lecture to check that it was a normal thing that you have during a cold. Perfectly normal, perfectly reasonable reason, and perfectly helpful advice to go to the doctors if it didn't go away.

I got better. It was fine. I have since got sick again, but that's not the point.

Anyway, the tattoo doesn't hurt anymore and seems to have stopped leaking ink. However, it has started itching, which is both good and bad.

Good because apparently this means it's healing, but bad because it's really freaking itchy.

Ho Ho Happy Holidays.

(I sound like I'm trying not be offensive by not using the word Christmas. This is not the case, I just liked the alliteration. I'm not Christian and I'm not offended, so please get over yourself).

Christmas happened. It tends to do that, roughly the same time every year in fact. And we all seem to have roughly the same thing to do every year.

Most families have some sort of tradition. My best friend has Christmas dinner on boxing day and I've known people who celebrate on Christmas Eve before now (which I know is what a lot of Scandinavians do).

We do it on Christmas Day, as I know most people do. We get up a little too early after not quite enough sleep and open presents in our 4 piece family. There are thank yous and hugs, the occasional happy tear (usually my mum) and there is always a mess of wrapping paper; no matter how hard you try to clear it up. Then at a more reasonable time we head over to my grandparents' house for more presents and a delicious Christmas roast cooked by my nan and then home for Doctor Who.

We always say God help my mother when she has to cook a Christmas dinner, because she went straight from dinner with her family to dinner with my Dad's family. She can make a cracking roast, so it probably won't be much of a problem, but she hasn't ever done it on Christmas Day before.

Now it's New Year 2011 and I suppose I'll let you in on my new years' resolutions. Truth be told I've never been one to keep new years' resolutions so most of the time I don't bother making them - except the one year I made the paradoxical resolution to break my new years' resolution. I just don't see the point in putting all these restraints on yourself in January that will be long gone by February. The whole idea of new years' resolutions is that people pledge to do things that they probably won't be able to do and then they don't feel bad when they break them because everyone else breaks theirs as well. The system is set up to fail.

Which is why I did 365 days in 30 ways. I pledged in October to do 30 things that involve changing aspects of my life within a year. So far I'm doing okay with it.

My mum posted a blog post on http://faerieimportantstuff.blogspot.com/ where she talks about disliking new years' resolutions and you should all go and read that. I had the same idea as her at the same time as her and she just got there first. If I wasn't setting this to post exactly as the new year rolls in I could fiddle with the timestamps to make it look like I did it first, but that would be a little bit mean wouldn't it?

However, I do have a new years' resolution. I am stopping drinking little and often and starting drinking a lot in one go every now and then.

All the best for 2011 for you all, and we shall continue the search for Mini into the new year and beyond.

Humanity

So, many of you will know I'm home for the holidays. A few of you will know that I don't like my hometown because of a lot of the people in it. But yesterday I was in McDonalds and I heard something that was a little bit heartwarming.

I will admit, I'm the kind of person who doesn't always clean up after themselves in fast food restaurants. I do it most of the time, especially if I know the people working there, but if I've had bad service or I don't like the person who is working I will leave it for them.

Most of the time I will do it myself because there are plenty of people who don't do it and I have had to clear up after other people in order to be able to sit at a table before now. It isn't pleasant and the people who work there aren't employed to clean up after you because you're too lazy to do it yourself.

Yesterday I saw some chavs eating Happy Meals; not uncommon considering where I live. Including one I went to school with, accompanying who I can only assume was his younger brother. Upon finishing his brother put the boxes on the tray and went to pick it up. His younger brother said, in the snottiest voice I've heard out of an under 10 'But aren't they here to clean up after us?'

To which the elder brother snapped back 'No. It's nice if you do it yourself.' Well, I could have cried. This isn't something that you hear in Skem, that's not how Skem works.

Genuinely amazing moment.

Maybe it's a little sad how heartwarming I find this. Maybe I've just got such low expectations of Skem that this is absolutely amazing when it happens. But it happened, and it made me happy.

MINI NEWS: I am getting a tattoo on the 8th January. It's booked, I've designed it, and now I've told everyone I'll feel like a tit if I back out. So excited. Pictures to follow, watch this space.

Guided tour of Mini will be resuming normal service from this moment. I have my own 14mpx camera and took some photos on my mothers camera before I left uni, so let's explore the wall shall we?

This is a picture drawn of me by the lovely Danielle at the start of LVI. My skin is blue because I'm cold, my hair is red because it was back them and the boobs were only put in afterwards when I took my jumper off and stopped swamping my figure.

The text reads: To Mini. Happy Jew Day. Love Danielle.

I'm not sure if that is racist.

The unicorn covering the speech bubble was drawn by the wonderful Sammy Holden, who will be a famous artist someday and I have three Sammy Holden originals, all of which will get featured together in a different post.

As for the contents of the speech bubble... I'm not saying :)

Twitter vs. Facebook

I got an @ reply from my uncle on Twitter a couple of weeks ago. I didn't even know he was following me; I was understandably confused. After this he preceded to spam me until I got sick of it and blocked him.

Yesterday I got a friend request from a random person named Mohammed on Facebook. We had one mutual friend - a girl who always accepts friend requests from people she doesn't know.

Two forms of social networking, they can't be that different, right?

I tend to know the people I add or accept on Facebook. I tend not to know the people I follow or that follow me on Twitter. I find it works better this way.

I tend to use Facebook to stay in touch with people. Even if they're people I'm likely to see on a daily basis - my flatmates or my Fylde bar sports family. Facebook chat is cheape

r than a series of text messages, writing on people's walls is a fun way to leave a message to make someone smile and poke wars are often fun; even if they can be annoying. I tend to clear out the people I don't speak to from my friends list at regular intervals - or whenever I feel I need a change.

I tend to use Twitter to stalk celebrities. There's no other way to put it, that's what Twitter is for. That and spam. I've spoken to three of my favourite authors (@realjohngreen, @Caroline_S and @maureenjohnson) and if it wasn't for Twitter I'd have never read the books of the first two. I've had creative discussions with YouTubers who I find inspiring (@hexachordal, @blade376 and @eddplant) and even football discussions with a local radio DJ (@paulsaltysalt). I also follow Stephen Fry, but so does everyone else on twitter. I get excited when I get retweets or @ replies from people with lots of followers and I like keeping an eye on trending topics.

Thing is, when people who I usually speak to on Facebook go onto Twitter and talk to me there, it sort of freaks me out. And if someone who follows me on Twitter tried to add me on Facebook I'd likely decline their request. The two worlds shouldn't really meet.

Of course there are exceptions, but its a general rule.

There is also a huge difference in the content that I post on both. Facebook is often censored, stuff I don't mind people I am likely to encounter daily asking me about. Twitter is the o

pposite. I tweet moany crap and passive aggressive statements to nobody in particular.

The main difference in content probably comes from the fact that my parents, my flatmates and most of the guys that I find remotely attractive on Facebook aren't on Twitter. Or if they are, they're not following me. And that's the way it should stay.

Guided Tour of Mini:

You can't read it very well but it says 'All the bestest lasses are called Caroline!' I recieved it from the lovely @Caroline_S, who I mentioned earlier, when I won a competition for a signed copy of her book. It's a recent addition to the wall but it has pride of place right at the top.

P.S. This is not an invitation for people who do know me to start following me on Twitter. Please don't.