SORRY.

AM AWFUL. AM TERRIBLE. AM AWFUL, TERRIBLE BLOG ABANDONER.

I am such a hypocrite; how can it have been over a month? It's gone by incredibly quickly.

...actually, having said that, I've been waiting so impatiently for more offers that that Lancaster one seems like a lifetime ago. I've had no more since then and I'm really starting to get antsy, despite the fact I can't do anything to speed the process along; the Universities I've applied to for the course I want to do seem to all be very crowded, or slow at replying. It's also doubly difficult when you're surrounded by friends who applied to Oxford or Cambridge and seem to be steaming through; it's not their fault in the slightest, but Oxbridge is placed on such a high pedestal that you feel left out when others benefit from it. I haven't applied to either; it wouldn't suit me and I had no particular desire to go; it would be nice to know a little more about my academic future, regardless.


Anyway, little has happened since then. Jesus Christ Superstar was done at school for nearly a week; I was on the tech crew and had a huge amount of fun, although Jesus' crucifixion made me cry at least three times. I was at a vantage point where I could see the entire stage, head-on, and the impact of the scene and the lighting was incredible. Plus, Dave, the guy who played Jesus, was spectacular. I was in awe of him for most of the week. Everybody is completely in love with him; he's the nicest guy in the world and incredibly modest. Lovely singing voice, too.


It seems like an age since I was tapping away about Mary Poppins. And it IS; I looked over some old entries just before I started typing this one, and startling immaturity and lack of perspective and consideration for others aside, it seems complete incomprehensible now that I ever did what I did back then; I was annoyed about Ben in History lessons, I gushed insanely over Brokeback Mountain, I actually studied Maths, for God's sake. And that was three or so years ago, just three years. Even now I'm still suffering from a lack of perspective. Three years is nothing; one day in twenty or so years I'll look back on now and wonder how the hell "all that" was a chore. God only knows whether I'll look back with fondness or regret, or both. Where will I be? Married, children? A career, or just a job to make ends meet?

It's all a huge mystery. Only seventeen (nearly eighteen) years, and it feels like an age. Perhaps that's because of the changing qualities of it; I've grown up, and done so many different things, and matured so much through those years, that time holds this special, mysterious quality because I'm viewing it through what's changed in my life, year-to-year. Seventeen years will be nothing, when I'm older. My Mum and Dad remember seventeen years ago as if it was yesterday.

I'm at the stage I always wondered about when I was a kid, or just at the start of secondary school; I am "grown-up", on the verge of leaving school, not wholly independent but have a significant amount of freedom. I've forged an identity for myself as a young adult through what I believe (politically and...socially?), what I read, what I listen to, who I am, rather than being a little girl who follows the crowd more often than not. I listen to jazz, I've marched with Ian McKellen through the streets of London, I'm ruthlessly sceptical and I snack on cucumber. I am my own unique self, now, yet I feel I haven't changed a bit. I feel like a fraud, sometimes; tapping through Politics essays, or having running jokes with well-loved teachers, or talking about social gradualism and paradoxes between authoritarianism and libertarianism; I feel as if I'm about to get found out. It's an odd feeling, and I keep wondering whether it'll last.

Next year is the big one. I say that every time, but this one really is! Here's a lowdown:

- Re-taking German AS oral.
- Modules for A2 exams.
- Receive module results sometime in March.
- My eighteenth birthday.
- My brother's twentieth birthday.
- The school leaver's Ball.
- Official "last" day of school before exams.
- German AS retakes in June, the rest of my A2s, and a Chinese GCSE.
- Off inter-railing for three weeks across Europe.
- Exam results.
- Off I go to university.
- The adventure begins....

Exams aren't important in the grand scheme of things, but they're so imminent and so numerous they're all I can think about at the moment. I'm seeing John Barrowman again, as well, at the end of May. Hurrah!

It's going to be a tough, fascinating year. I'm drinking in everything I can when I'm at school; despite so much to do in the next few months, there's an acute sensation of "lastness"; everything we do is "last"; this is the last Christmas we'll have at school, and there'll be plenty of lasts next year. It's all hotting up, and I'm incredibly nervous, but excited as well. This is what it's all about!

I'd better go; it's nearly eleven and I've got a book to finish. I'm also re-reading The Audacity of Hope, by Barack Obama, on the sly. Whilst idealistic, I do love it; it's very accesible, and despite being written by a man who had so much power even then, it's written in a casual and friendly way that can't help but charm. Barack Obama all over, eh?

Rosby out. I'll try not to leave for so long next time.

Ow.

Right, things I have to do.

• Find out if 19th June is free, and if it is, book train tickets to Durham.
• Find out if July 5th is free, and if I can get it off work, then book tickets to Pride London with the consent of Tara, Emma and Lucy.
• Call work experience lady and arrange interview.
• Fill in visa for Chinese trip.
• Lead a non-lethal rebellion against David Cameron...ahem. Possibly not. Maybe if I was a bit less busy.

Right, now I must go and do.

Gah.

Oh, bloody brilliant! My vague hope has been confirmed by the Pride London website:

We are delighted that Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London will be addressing the crowds this year. As well as that a host of speakers from all the main political parties and groups will be mixed with the best of today's entertainment.

I cannot wait to tell Lucy this; she's coming along this time, and we're both in the same Politics class, and both pretty vehmently anti-Boris. We've spent a while speculating how exactly Boris would pull off a speech to a three thousand-strong crowd of gay people giving that he's, y'know...Boris. Now that he's been confirmed as appearing, as Ken did last year and has previously done, I can't wait to see him.

I'm by no means certain that he'll screw up in any way; he's the Mayor now, and must be used to the duties that come with the job. I'm just looking forward to seeing the mop-top in person and seeing how he performs. He's got a lot to live up to; Ken was superb last year. There again, his speech was made all the more rousing by the bombs that exploded the previous day; his speech had a real kind of relevance and gravitas behind it because of that.

I wonder who the other politicians will be? I'm guessing that Brian Paddock would be an ideal choice to the organisers, but he hasn't been specifically named. Ken again, perhaps? Whoever they are, I'll be looking forward to paying attention to the political side; Harriet Harman spoke on stage last year, and she was very impressive as well. I suppose she'll wing her way over again...

Anyway, we have Boris. Barrowman hasn't been listed as appearing, which had me a little miffed, but the website claims it's still being updated on guests, and he was only a small part of the experience anyway. I would be the shallowest person in the world if I went along to the march, if I walked through the streets of London with all those people, with all that noise, all that passion, just to see some bloke off the telly. A lot of people who knew I was there thought I was only going to that reason, and it really irritated me. They were quite surprised when I told them why I was actually going...

Incidentally, a lot of people have been asking me if I'm really bisexual at the moment. With emphasis on the word "really". I don't understand; I never really came out, so to speak (a boy in my yeargroup who I've never really seen eye to eye with took it upon himself to do that for me while I was still dealing with the fact myself - lovely man), but...do people think that it's a joke? That I'm not serious? Or, worse than that, that it's just a phase? I hate that phrase with all my being; it's not a bloody phase; it exists, it's what I am, and I'm proud of what I am. Hence the Pride march. I also have people asking me very intimate questions about it, as well; how I know, and how it works, and whether I've done anything about it. I just...GRRR. I know that, statistically, only one in ten people is gay, but it's not a novelty, people, stop asking me about it! Would you go up to a straight person you didn't know very well and start bugging them relentlessly about their way of living? No? Didn't think so. Yet with a bisexual or homosexual person, nothing's wrong with a little interrogation.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I hate the reactions I get from certain people, and how it's talked about in ever so hushed tones. Again, that's why I want to keep going to these marches; to make as much noise as I can with thousands of others. To be heard, to not keep it under wraps.

Anyway, I digress slightly.

No John Barrowman so far, but...

WE HAVE SIR IAN!!!

Seriously. Ian McKellen! I love him! He is a fantastic actor and has incredible class. He's presenting part of the music show; can't wait to see him!

The whole event sounds fantastic again, and I can't wait for July! Tara wants to come this year, as well, which will tally up to four people; me, Emma, Tara and Lucy. Actually, come to think of it, that's an interesting mix we have; me and Emma are bisexual, Lucy is gay, and Tara is straight. Well, she thinks of herself as asexual, but she does have a boyfriend, called Alex. It's complicated, I think. We had a very long discussion about it on the train after the Night of Barrowman. Anyway, we'll make a varied, and squealing, group.

Eee, I can't wait! I'm using July 5th as my looking-forward-to point during my exams and work experience. I just hope I can get the day off work. I probably should if I swap with somebody. And if July 5th is as glorious as it is at the moment, it'll be wonderful! Last year it was pissing it down ALL DAY, which was one of the reasons me and Emma didn't go and talk to Barrowman; we were both soaked to the skin and wearing unfetching raincoats. Plus, I think our hearts had stopped with surprise. Unexpected Barrowman inspires a surprisingly physical reaction, as mentioned in the Night of Barrowman.

Right, had better go. Roll on Pride London! Hurrah!

I'm torn between the trivial and the important.

Hmm.

Oh, hell. DOCTOR WHO!

Criticisms first:

• Was I the only one who missed half of the dialogue? Music and rapid-talking and under-enunciation seemed rife this episode.
• Donna seemed a lot less consequential this time round, and a lot less strong which, although it was because she was near her family, became rather grating after a while.
• Her mother annoys the living hell out of me - Jackie was motherly badgering, but she pulled it off as natural and endearing; Donna's mum seems to contain virtually no redeeming features so far.
• Slightly dodgy acting from Rattigan, although he managed to keep the accent in place.
• Heavy on the melodrama; the waxing and waning fumes, the news alerts, the countdown-unexpectedly-reversed-at-the-last-mintue; it tended to get very samey after a while.
• Sontarans = unimpressive. In my view, anyway; the kiddies probably loved them.

This was very much a reference episode; we already had the Sontarans, and it was lovely to hear word of the Brig, and a brief mention of Captain Jack, and The Empty Child!

Oh. And, when Rose appeared, I may or may not have leapt about a foot in the air. Metaphorically, at least. I'm seriously looking forward to seeing how this arc is going to play out; the subtle smatterings of Rose so far seem less obvious that the arcs we've had in the last two series, and I'm twitching to see how it all fits together. Soon!

Overall, I liked it; it was nice to see an explanation for why the Sontarans didn't just nuke Earth and run away cackling, the moments between Martha and her clone managed to mix bizarre and touching and somehow make it work, and the Doctor was his usual, technobabbling, hair-ruffly self. I loved his attitudes to both Donna and Martha; both very different, but respectful towards both of them when it came to their actions within the episode. And, in turn, their reactions to him; when Donna thwacked him on the arm before sitting by him and Martha, it just worked, without needing words.

Next week's looks...deeply, deeply strange. Russell T Davies has said that this one is likely to cause fan revolt, which just makes me want to see it more; there is nothing funnier than watching Who fans rant, frankly. I mean, I love the show as much as the first person, but I don't take it seriously enough to get enraged when events don't turn my way. It's a children's show, for God's sake; if the target audience is just enjoying it for what it is, why can't the fans? I feel the same about obsessive Harry Potter fans. There again, I tend to avoid them more often than not; they can get scary sometimes.

So, to sum up, roll on next week. And the week after, and the weeks after, until we reach the epic multi-character fest, which must be deeply risky for everyone involved. I cannot wait. If Ianto and Gwen get a look in, my neighbours have to acquire some earplugs. Bweeee!

Anyway, I mentioned the trivial and the important; the important being, of course, the recent election. I'm hesistant to get too politically passionate in here, really. I wrote last night's post in a slightly angry state of mind, which I still am when I think of Boris Johnson; but I really can't politically rant when I, in no way, am astute in recent matters as I make myself out to be. I have been following the election, and my politics classes have helped me take a further grasp on my political stance within the options we have, but I'd never confess to knowing everything, and assuming my view is the most prominent.

I'll be honest, I'm still not entirely sure where I stand. All I know is, I am not Conservative. Yet, for all my scepticism of the media and efforts not to be influenced, I still seem to take notice of the individual rather than the party in question; yesterday I had an extensive debate with a guy called John in my yeargroup, in the Common Room just before last period; when it was happening, I thought we were arguing Liberalism vs. Conservatism. It was only afterwards that I realised we'd only covered David Cameron, who is only a tiny part of the whole establishment.

My honest opinion; I don't like him. I think that he is intelligent, but that he lacks substance and embodies the archetypical traits of the leading politician to the extreme; point-scoring, Punch and Judy politics, and advocating his party as not a good party, but always better than Labour. Everything he says seems to have an underlying thread of bitterness, and when he makes speeches, he doesn't say anything. He makes bold statements that aren't fully explored. I know that's a common trait, I do that, but I am not running a major political party and attempting to get the chance to run the country. Long story short; he irks me more than Gordon Brown does, and I can't help but feel that the Conservative majority this time around is indicative of events still to come. Even if it is due to disillusionment with Labour, and Gordon Brown, support appears to be growing. Which, in my book, isn't good, but my book isn't the Bible.

I know a lot. I know a lot more about politics than I used to. But I don't know enough, yet. I'm not entirely sure what point I'm trying to make here. Basically that I'm going to full-on rant and rave until I know the full ins and outs.

(I say that, but I did just get het up about Cameron, didn't I?)

RIGHT. Sorry for those random trains of thought. I was going to talk about Martin Horwood's visit to my school, but my coherency levels are lacking tonight, I'm not sure why. Exhaustion, possibly. I'm off on study leave on Friday; it won't be a moment too soon. Still, at least I have Monday off.

Talk more soon.

And, before I forget to ask...what do you think?

Oh, God.

I was half-expecting it, but it doesn't make it any less comforting.

It's been a very politically-orientated day, actually; I managed to question an MP who was visiting our school, and me and my friends have been following the council elections all day. I just had to check who ultimately won London before I went to sleep.

I'll say more tomorrow, hopefully (my brain has been buzzing with views on this all day), but for now, my main reaction seems to be summed up thusly; nearly a year ago I went to Pride London and saw Ken Livingstone step up on stage and do a fantastically confident, moving, rousing speech to the crowd, clearly written at the last minute due to bombs having gone off in London the day before the march. Rhetoric or not, it was definitely impressive.

Can we really see Boris doing that? Or acting like anything other than a fool?

I'm disappointed, in short.

Evidently London feels differently.

Is this what going mad feels like? I'm sitting on a bed desperately trying to finish a ferociously hard Politics slideshow on the effectiveness of Parliament, my Dad's laptop keeps performing bizarre actions without me pressing any buttons, and I have the loathed Kate Nash in my head.

It doesn't sound particularly mad, but my head may explode before midnight.