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.

In which I do not fulfill promises.

Well, I never wrote about Pride London. Nor Doctor Who. I know it's stupid, but I feel very ashamed that I haven't; Pride was a sensational experience and so much better than I'd anticipated. It's not complete apathy that I haven't posted about them; I've been incredibly busy doing school work, even up until the end of term, and preparing for my school trip to China. I should've found the time, though. I was determined not to write about Pride without photos; they tell half the story and Lucy took some brilliant ones.

I WILL tell all, I promise. Just not now; I'm leaving to go across the world tomorrow for two weeks, and I've been packing and fussing and buying too much to think about much else.

(Also, that accident I had on Wednesday has had me distracted; I've never hurt myself that badly before and was seriously scared; even now my shoulder is really hurting and I'm on painkillers. I'm fine, really, but it was a scary few hours that were all new experiences, and it was a very inconvenient time to happen. Again, I'll go into detail soon enough. Probably once I've stopped yelling "Ow!" every time I try and open a door/reach for something/pick up anything, with my right arm.)

God, I sound depressing and moany. Sorry. I feel like my creative juices have run a bit dry. Still, am SO excited; term ended today, for good, and I'm off to China tomorrow, for fifteen days! Eeeeee! We're going to Kunming, in the west, which is fairly near Burma and Vietnam. We were originally slated to go to Beijing, but the Olympics ensured that no one else was let into the city after a certain date. Grr. Still, it doesn't matter, we're seeing the real China. We're staying in a hotel and studying at Kunming University. I've spent all evening packing my suitcase, my room a complete tip. Mum has been flitting frantically in and out, offering further medical supplies. She's been twice as paranoid as usual since I hurt myself, which is sweet, but deeply annoying at the same time. I suppose it's better than her not caring at all.

RIGHT. Sleep. Not leaving until the afternoon, but I should get some rest.

Stories coming soon. All I'll say is this; we marched alongside Ian McKellen. And I mean alongside; inches away from him for about an hour, following his lead, being watched by thousands of people. It was inspirational beyond all belief and had us reeling with the brilliance of it. Nudge me mercilessly when I get back and don't talk about it.

Right, I won't be around until August 2nd. Off to widen my horizons!

Rosby out. I'll take pictures. Farewell!

To quote Marie, this blog is also dying. It's obvious. The thing is...I can't really permanently stop writing in it. It serves as an archive to what I now call my formative years (even though they were about three years ago), and I think if I keep writing, I'll be able to look back and observe a maturity progression. I'm already doing that, anyway; I keep looking back at various entries and wondering how the hell people could stand reading them.

Well, it's Christmas Eve; the festive season has completely passed me by due to long hours at work and mountains of homework from school. I've noticed it, of course, (how could you not?), but it hasn't affected me, at all. Not the slightest, smallest twinge of excitement at all. Not anymore.

This time was bound to come, of course. I'm still feeling pangs of loss, though. Christmas was such a exciting time of my life for about fourteen years, and the last two have seen me mature to the point where I can see through it. But, I'll never feel those twinges again. Dad's told me that Christmas is fun when you have young kids, but who's to say I'll have children? I haven't exactly warmed to the idea so far.

This is maturity. This is approaching adulthood. When I was young, I thought being an adult would feel grand and fine and important; from what I'm experiencing, the beginning of adulthoodm seems to be comprised of contemplation; "...so that's how it is."

And so it goes.

Joe's back. He came home a few days ago. I never did tell him how much I missed him, and I doubt I will. We're the typical siblings; we'll probably remain stoic to the very end. I've barely seen him, but it's lovely to have him home. We suspect he'll spend New Year up in Liverpool, with his new friends. Either that, or stay home and get blind drunk with some of his old ones still in Cheltenham. Either way, there'll be booze involved.

I'm tempted to a full year round-up, even though I still have a week left. Anything could happen. But...this has been the year. It's had everything. GCSEs, writer's course, gay pride, new and old televisual obsessions, sixth form, new friends, old friends, politics, love sickness, love confessions (well, it wasn't love, but I confessed its equivalent nonetheless. Also had it confessed to me.), Stewart, Colbert, Barrowman, Aygeman, Norton...

I grew up this year. Not completely, absolutely not completely. I still have a large streak of childishness left in me; anyone who was at Diana's party last night can tell you that. Doesn't everyone? No one ever completely grows up. But last year, I was on the cusp; I've moved forward off the cusp about a hundred miles. At least, that's how I feel. It's terrifying, and a little sad when I think about what I've left behind, but at the same time it's exhilarating and unknown and liberating.

The adventure's beginning. Next year I turn seventeen. I'll drive, I'll do AS exams, I'll (hopefully) go to China, I'll visit universities, I'll choose universities. I will, at some point, say the hardest goodbye to someone I think I've ever had to say. But again, that's good, in a way; we need to be unhappy sometimes, to grow up. Isn't it all part of the process?

Plus, I'll do all the less important things as well; I'll keep beating people up and being beaten up at Tae Kwon Do, I'll be glued to the telly, I'll eat my weight in cucumber and biscuits, I'll keep teching and attempting to understand why the tech crew eat chocolate pudding from Farmfoods. I'll have fun. It all balances out.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling, but I've been thinking about this all day. It's been brought on by the Christmas fandango surrounding everyone, I think.

Better go. The radiator is becoming cold, and I ought to be sociable and finish watching Pirates with my parents. Plus, I need to put Joe's present under the tree.

Have a good Christmas, everyone. Enjoy yourselves, and enjoy the new year! (Watch Mr Jools Holland, if you can.)

Rosby, almost-an-adult-but-not-quite, signing off for now. Talk to you soon.

Wooooo! I have a job, at last! And at WH Smith, no less. YES!

*dances*

Also; woooo! The Daily Show won an Emmy!

...and is it wrong that I was weirdly glad The Colbert Report didn't win anything, just so we can see the new material Stephen comes up with on his next show?

(There again, I doubt that "BENNEEEEETT!" will have quite the same effect as "MANNILOWWWWW!")

That seems to be all, for now. School is hectic, but going well. I've been bumped up to Assistant Stage Manager for Return to the Forbidden Planet, aka the massive, epic play coming in November that outstrips anything we've ever done, in terms of sets, lighting, sound, the whole she-bang. Can't wait!

I should really go to sleep now.

"Tonight, we are here to celebrate excellence in film, with me; the fourth male lead in Death to Smoochy. Rent it!"

Hurrah!

...although I am rather surprised. I thought there would be a longer time gap; it was only in 2006 that he last hosted.

Still, I'm not complaining. Absolutely LOVE him. And The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are back, after a two week hiatus! Hurrah! (Looking forward to seeing John Oliver again.)

The tech crew all went to London today, to a massive technical showcase in Earl's Court. All I will say of the day is this; there is nothing quite like being in a minibus with Mr Brunsdon in the middle of Central London. The man is a maniac at the wheel; we went around and around about three times, trying to find the exhibition hall amidst a sea of shops, probably breaking several speed limits, before taking many illegal right turns and careering wildly across the street in a VERY illegal U-Turn to get us into the entrance. The PEDESTRIAN entrance.

(And to top it off, he lied to the security guard that we were two hours late, and if he could drop us off here he'd move off. I think the majority of us were stifling hysterical laughter by this point.)

Also, it could never be a tech crew trip without one of the Year 13s playing Blackjack with a complete stranger in the car behind during a traffic jam. It worked surprisingly well.

Back to the grindstone tomorrow, but all is going well so far. I was struck by how small all my classes are; my Drama class consists of eight people, all of them girls. The teachers really appear to be treating us like adults, which is fantastic. And, God, I love what I'm wearing to school now. I finally look like a grown-up, and I'm so happy!

Anyway, had better go and pack for tomorrow. Farewell!

P.S. If anyone reading goes near Earl's Court tube station; what on earth is the TARDIS doing outside? I saw it as we zoomed past, but didn't get a chance to see what it was. Enlightenment?