BEDA 4: The (Not So) Little Girl I've Known A Long Time

We've all had the same treatment from a distant family friend, or an old primary school teacher, who hasn't seen you in years. You've grown up as time has gone on but the last time they saw you, you were 'only as big as [my] knee!' You get the typical 'My, how you've grown' and you just look at the person with a puzzled expression, silently thinking 'Well of course I have, that's how time works!'

I'm sure its something we've all experienced from one end, the other, or both. And it's not until you do experience it from both ends that the puzzled expression fades and you empathise with how they feel.

Picture this: it's 2002, I'm 10 years old and all of the year 6's have taken a course to become 'buddies' for the reception students - although only a certain few get to do it everyday. Although you're supposed to look after a group of a few students, we all tended to take one under our wing.

My 4 year old was the cutest little girl with a blonde bob who was oh-so-quiet but knew how to run. The best part of a year was spent trying to catch her, making sure she spoke up to integrate with the other children and just generally being her friend.

Fast forward to the present day. A couple of weeks ago I saw her in her high school uniform. She's 13. It's been 9 years, but it feels like no more than 9 weeks. I saw her a couple of times and actually played Wii boxing with her on one occasion (she got stroppy because I beat her; some things don't change) but for the most part of 9 years we've just been living on the same street, not the friends we used to be. She's a young woman now, with friends she has to get a bus to see and her GCSE exams coming up in the next two years. But in my head she's still 4, and I can't believe how quickly she's grown up.

I finally understood it. And 5 days after I saw her I ran an old family friend of my mother's; who I hadn't seen for years. She couldn't believe I had already been away and done a year at uni, because to her I was only about 7... And I didn't roll my eyes, I didn't act confused, I totally got how she felt; how old I must make her feel just for having lived as long as I have.

I know that if I told my teenaged 4 year old that I still think of her as being so little from back when I was her 'buddy' and can't believe how she's grown; she'd look at me funny and just shrug it off as something adults say. But one day she'll understand; one day it'll be her.

30 Day Song Challenge Day 3: Oldest Song You Love (I really struggled with this, as I don't know what came out when! So I went with the oldest Beatles song in my iTunes)

Love Me Do - The Beatles

BEDA 3: Mini's Misleading Dream Diary

I never understand any of my dreams, and I'm certainly not analysing them in any kind of Freudian context, we all know he was a weirdo.

My dear friend Sarah was taken into hospital with some medical condition that I don't remember. Her parents couldn't get down to see her so I played the good friend and went to visit her everyday so she wouldn't be alone. The issue was that the hospital was also a school and practically a maze inside, so I got lost on the way to go see her.

She was also told that she was well enough to go a cooking class within the hospital/school, but needed a chaperone, so I went with her to that as well. We came in late and had to take the only remaining pair of seats over the other side of the room as quietly as we could (and if you've met Sarah, you'll know that's not easy ;) ).

The little girl sat next to Sarah was wearing an Esther bracelet, so I started to chat to her about Nerdfighteria for a little while and then her chaperone arrived and it was my friend Dan. I chatted to him and we interrupted the class and were almost thrown out.

Go on then, psychoanalyse my stupid dreams!

Also, it is Esther day today, have you told your family you love them?

30 Day Song Challenge Day 2: Favourite cover song

Behind Blue Eyes - Limp Bizkit

BEDA 2: Mothers and Make-Up (Forum Hatred)

I spend far too much time frequenting The Student Room (or TSR as it will be known from now on). In a thread in which some odd person asked if women would teach their daughters how to shave 'downstairs', somebody compared this to a mother teaching her daughter how to put on make-up.

I am not for mothers teaching their daughters how to shave; but I was disgusted to find that this girl thought it was so wrong to teach your daughter how to put on make up.

My mother rarely wears make-up, so I had to figure out how to apply make-up by myself and through advice from my friends. My mum would always tell me if my make-up looked stupid, but she couldn't tell me how to apply things like foundation and powder, because she had never worn it for herself. In fact, I ended up showing her how to apply bronzing powder when her friend bought her some for her birthday.

The girl on the TSR's reasoning for it being wrong for mothers to teach their daughters to apply make-up is that a mother should not influence her style like that. She should figure it out herself by making her own mistakes and learning what she likes and what looks good. I agree that she should have to learn what looks good herself, but there is nothing wrong with a mother ensuring her daughter does not look like a clown with block eyeshadow, does not have an orange face and keeps her lipstick within the lines of her lips. Just because my mother is helping me does not mean that I will do whatever she says in regards to what I was going to wear; I am perfectly capable of picking things for myself and having her show me how to apply them effectively. Like I have mentioned, I didn't have this luxury as my mother was not really a make-up wearer herself; and I didn't have a big sister either. I would have loved to have been taught how to apply make-up properly when I was younger to save me some of the style disasters that I thought were the result of proper application until a friend showed me otherwise.

Basically what I'm saying - in a rambling sort of way - is that mothers should teach their daughters to apply the make-up that their daughters have chosen to wear. However, the good people of TSR would not have accepted this as a post, especially as the topic of the thread was about shaving and not make-up.

30 Day Song Challenge (another thing I'm doing here) Day 1: Favourite song with a colour in the title.

All In White - The Vaccines

BEDA 1: Welcome to BEDA

BEDA: Blog Every Day August. Basically, after it being so long since my last post; I decided to (attempt to) post everyday in August. They'll not be as long, carefully written or structured as you're used to; but there will be an awful lot of them (31, to be exact).

Preview of what's to come:

• Mini's Misleading Dream Diary - details of weird dreams posted when I run out of ideas rather than when they happen
• Forum Hatred
• John Green #3
• Coming Out Stories (yes, plural)
• And actual real life observations made in my actual real life.

August starts here, let's see if I can hold your interest.

(And no, you can't punish me for not updating).

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.