... for neglecting my blog the past few weeks. I could put it down to revision, family emergencies (although does fighting over one piece of pasta with your big sister count as an emergency) or any number of things. But really it's just a combination of laziness and lack of interesting things to say. Which is why I'm already beginning to wonder why I started today's offering. As, unsurprisingly, I have nothing interesting to say.
Shall I write something thought-provoking? I was just contemplating launching into a rant on extreme feminists and extreme anything-ists following a few heated discussions in our Ethics lessons, but I just thought about something more relevant.
Blogging. I write this blog, safe in the knowledge that a few varied people read it (and I use a few very loosely. I re-read it once, and I think that's probably it). But more importantly; I write this blog. I am, principally, a woman of pen and the written (or even typed) word has always been my tool of choice.
But against the rise of video-blogging; or 'vlogging', usually via the media of youtube.com, is there any space for written blogs? Blogs have given wider access to an audience for would-be columnists instead of struggling to find a newspaper to take them, but are we killing it before it has really began? Will 'vlogging' become the only way to get an opinion noticed on the web, especially as iPhones and many other mobile telephones give good access to the internet and, more importantly, the ability to click on a link and view a video. In fact, it's probably easier to view a video that wait for a page to load, zoom in correctly and then read through it.
Of course, while writing this I have thought of the converse points - that newspapers survived in the face of television news bulletins surely supports written word over video? And many blogs and bloggers have found success and even mild fame through broadcasting opinions over the cyberweb?
BUT vloggers tend to find fame more quickly - for example charlieissocoollike on youtube ended up on the news for a video about a cup of tea. Is this because video is more accessible to the masses; emotion and knowledge are communicated without the need for complex syntax or lexis? (See what I did there? No? Fine.)
I don't know. You decide; have Blogs usurped, in some people's eyes, newspapers only to be taken over by vlogging?
BY THE WAY, this was the original blog I was GOING to post:
I did melt a pen over the weekend by hovering it over a candle. It now doesn't work, I have a burn on my left ring finger and red plastic over my English Literature folder. I could attempt to sound this mundane and worryingly fun event sound interesting, but instead I shall find something equally banal to excite you with.
Goodnight and Deity-or-not Bless
Kate (:
Tuesday 20 April 2010
Monday 5 April 2010
I have had the most brilliant weekend:
I found a necklace I thought I'd lost =]
WELL SORRY IF I'M NOT EXCITING FOR YOU!!! JEEZ!
Kate.
WELL SORRY IF I'M NOT EXCITING FOR YOU!!! JEEZ!
Kate.
Sunday 28 March 2010
Larkrise To Cranberry...
...is rubbish. Are we all in agreement about this? Yes. Good. That's the end of the blog then so I shall say good - oh, sorry? What was that? Yes, you... at the back. You like this television train crash?
It's awful. This episode a couple seemed intent on luring a puppy into bed with them for sordid rampages, complete with a sweater they could rip off in suitable fits of passion. Julia Sawalha plays an uptight post-brothel-mistress with stupid hair and her voice is so squeaky clean it appears to float out of her pursed lips and penetrates your brain with appropriate pain. The Ginger One isn't too irritating, from what I could catch of her whimpers as she had verbal sex with an Irishman.
The Dog-Couple are now sobbing as they are forced to return the sex-dog to its rightful pimp. Bless them. They are disappointed at losing their last remaining 'ho. Oh, hang on - they've bought her back for £4 and a blowjob. How quaint.
I've just realised this will only make sense if you've watched the show. I shall synopsise for you:
There is a ginger one, who lives in a place called Cranberryford. The characters are either incredibly well-spoken to the point of suicide, or so Coun'ree, it's painful. Sometimes these simpletons find their long-lost brother to marry, but in other episodes incest is sadly lacking.
Oh, and there's a postmistresslady who is really snobby.
That's it. And that, really, is it. I spilt fake-tan on my Uggs earlier and need to check on them.
Goodnight and bless you all;
Katie xxx
It's awful. This episode a couple seemed intent on luring a puppy into bed with them for sordid rampages, complete with a sweater they could rip off in suitable fits of passion. Julia Sawalha plays an uptight post-brothel-mistress with stupid hair and her voice is so squeaky clean it appears to float out of her pursed lips and penetrates your brain with appropriate pain. The Ginger One isn't too irritating, from what I could catch of her whimpers as she had verbal sex with an Irishman.
The Dog-Couple are now sobbing as they are forced to return the sex-dog to its rightful pimp. Bless them. They are disappointed at losing their last remaining 'ho. Oh, hang on - they've bought her back for £4 and a blowjob. How quaint.
I've just realised this will only make sense if you've watched the show. I shall synopsise for you:
There is a ginger one, who lives in a place called Cranberryford. The characters are either incredibly well-spoken to the point of suicide, or so Coun'ree, it's painful. Sometimes these simpletons find their long-lost brother to marry, but in other episodes incest is sadly lacking.
Oh, and there's a postmistresslady who is really snobby.
That's it. And that, really, is it. I spilt fake-tan on my Uggs earlier and need to check on them.
Goodnight and bless you all;
Katie xxx
Tuesday 23 March 2010
Speaker Update...
... this might be a quick one, or Physics revision might drive me to despair and I'll return to add more. Either way, here we go:
Following the Speaker Saga yesterday (which, as sagas go, is better than Twilight), I have come to the shattering conclusion that I do not like Electronics Stores.
Well, that's not strictly true. I like skipping around the aisles, looking at camcorders that record in HD and Blu-Whale and 2D and all those exciting things, and I like looking at laptops and wishing I could afford a MacBook (but not the 'Air', because if you're just buying air it doesn't seem like good value for money. But that's just my opinion). I adore opening and closing the fridges to see if they work, and they never seem to, and I like getting caught up in television shows that you can't hear the audio, and if you can hear some sort of audio it's for the wrong show you want to watch. Then you get fixated and people walk into you, and you probably look awfully silly to other bystanders, who have not yet reached the televisions and are still opening and closing fridges to check no-one is inside.
So, I DO like Electronics Stores.
Until, that is... you want to buy something.
It doesn't matter if you have all the money in the world, we, as customers, seem intent on pretending we don't want to buy the product - which of course we do, else we wouldn't have wasted our Saturday afternoons going to the damned shop - in a shameless yet excruciatingly embarrassing attempt at a discount. And then we're too scared to ask; yes, £39394834893493489328 may be too much for a memory stick, but it is 2839809384093GB and it does open in an amusing way, so it must be alright.
And then, of course, you have to pretend you know the difference between the specs the Someone-Who-Looks-Like-They-Work-There-But-Might-Just-Be-Another-Grumpy-Spotty-Teenager has told you about, even though really you just want one that works and maybe has a remote control. And you have to act like you CARE about these things as well, not just whether it would fit in your lounge/bedroom/kitchen and look alright next to the piece of tat they sold you last year during the bloody January sales.
Then, one of the most awkward points in existence - the final crux of it. Do you want to buy the product or not? How do you shrug the over-eager Someone-Who-looks-Like-They-Work-There-But-Might-Just-Be-Another-Grumpy-Spotty-Teenager (and yes I did re-write that, bloody thing wouldn't let me copy+paste) off onto his merry, spotty way and leave, without letting him realise you'll only eBay it later or - even worse - buy it at the OTHER Electronics Store across town?!
And if you do decide to buy it, you have to cope with the "Well would you like insurance with that? No... it will cover blahblahblahblah for two hours after leaving the store, at only £2030239203920? No, well... if you're sure?.... Yes, good choice madam, I'll add that amount to your purchase."
All this I endured on Sunday. Only to find, as discussed below, that my purchase DIDN'T BLOODY WORK.
Well today... I had to return to the store, to get it fixed. None of the above embarrassment was endured, but this time fresh, new cringes were added to the mix. Thoughts entered my head such as "Does he really know what he is doing? Did he really just ask me where the plug went? Is he giving me a new set of speakers, or did he just swap the box and is re-giving me my old one?"
YES MUM, ALRIGHT! I AM REVISING.
Today I overcame a multitude of downfalls in an attempt to get a working set of speakers. This blog has been cut short, but my delight has not, as katiesawfulmusic.fm has returned in working order ;)
Goodnight and God/Allah/Buddha Bless...
Katiee x
Following the Speaker Saga yesterday (which, as sagas go, is better than Twilight), I have come to the shattering conclusion that I do not like Electronics Stores.
Well, that's not strictly true. I like skipping around the aisles, looking at camcorders that record in HD and Blu-Whale and 2D and all those exciting things, and I like looking at laptops and wishing I could afford a MacBook (but not the 'Air', because if you're just buying air it doesn't seem like good value for money. But that's just my opinion). I adore opening and closing the fridges to see if they work, and they never seem to, and I like getting caught up in television shows that you can't hear the audio, and if you can hear some sort of audio it's for the wrong show you want to watch. Then you get fixated and people walk into you, and you probably look awfully silly to other bystanders, who have not yet reached the televisions and are still opening and closing fridges to check no-one is inside.
So, I DO like Electronics Stores.
Until, that is... you want to buy something.
It doesn't matter if you have all the money in the world, we, as customers, seem intent on pretending we don't want to buy the product - which of course we do, else we wouldn't have wasted our Saturday afternoons going to the damned shop - in a shameless yet excruciatingly embarrassing attempt at a discount. And then we're too scared to ask; yes, £39394834893493489328 may be too much for a memory stick, but it is 2839809384093GB and it does open in an amusing way, so it must be alright.
And then, of course, you have to pretend you know the difference between the specs the Someone-Who-Looks-Like-They-Work-There-But-Might-Just-Be-Another-Grumpy-Spotty-Teenager has told you about, even though really you just want one that works and maybe has a remote control. And you have to act like you CARE about these things as well, not just whether it would fit in your lounge/bedroom/kitchen and look alright next to the piece of tat they sold you last year during the bloody January sales.
Then, one of the most awkward points in existence - the final crux of it. Do you want to buy the product or not? How do you shrug the over-eager Someone-Who-looks-Like-They-Work-There-But-Might-Just-Be-Another-Grumpy-Spotty-Teenager (and yes I did re-write that, bloody thing wouldn't let me copy+paste) off onto his merry, spotty way and leave, without letting him realise you'll only eBay it later or - even worse - buy it at the OTHER Electronics Store across town?!
And if you do decide to buy it, you have to cope with the "Well would you like insurance with that? No... it will cover blahblahblahblah for two hours after leaving the store, at only £2030239203920? No, well... if you're sure?.... Yes, good choice madam, I'll add that amount to your purchase."
All this I endured on Sunday. Only to find, as discussed below, that my purchase DIDN'T BLOODY WORK.
Well today... I had to return to the store, to get it fixed. None of the above embarrassment was endured, but this time fresh, new cringes were added to the mix. Thoughts entered my head such as "Does he really know what he is doing? Did he really just ask me where the plug went? Is he giving me a new set of speakers, or did he just swap the box and is re-giving me my old one?"
YES MUM, ALRIGHT! I AM REVISING.
Today I overcame a multitude of downfalls in an attempt to get a working set of speakers. This blog has been cut short, but my delight has not, as katiesawfulmusic.fm has returned in working order ;)
Goodnight and God/Allah/Buddha Bless...
Katiee x
Monday 22 March 2010
Well hello...!
Hasn't the weather been marvellous? Well... mostly. Today it rained like the proverbial cats and dogs, but the weekend was kind to us and I managed to parade around in a summer dress! I know, how lovely.
I am (slowly) on the mend, which may be down to the sixty thousand pills I am taking on a thrice-daily basis. Possibly. It's not taken much effect as of yet, but we shall remain helpful; shan't we?! After all, without hope, we are hopeless. Uh, yes.
In lighter news, I have developed a revision timetable! Ooh-er, I hear you cry, Katie with her fancy ways! Fear not, my little spice-racks, I have not elevated myself above common-as-muck status at present, but I can see the gleaming, biro-scribbled, product of my efforts blue-tacked on the side of my bookcase from my now neatly-organised desk. Simple things, my friends, simple things.
In more interesting news (yes, there is such a thing), I purchased some iPod speakers yesterday from a charming young (and I mean, young. He made me look ancient) man yesterday. I spent apparent hours agonising over choices of sound quality, radio alarms, LCD displays and whether they had a funny dial you could play with - but I eventually decided. Money well spent. Or so I thought.
I returned home, tore them from the box and thrust the little silvery thing in wherever it was supposed to go. Nothing. Double-checked it was plugged in correctly. Nothing. All my delight at how neatly the speakers had been packaged evaporated like summer rain as I attempted to wriggle my iPod into what I hoped was a more suitable position.
Finally, life. No sound, but a flash of green - which, according to the 190 page instruction manual (7 pages of which are English and therefore of any use to me) means it is charging. So I waited. And waited some more.
Then, the flicker of life extinguished before my big brown eyes as if urinated on by a particularly vicious canine. At first, fury overtook me, then disappointment and finally frustration.
Fear not my loyal followers; all three of you will be satisfied to know I shall return tomorrow with a slightly peturbed frown and potentially a short skirt for speedier service.
Alternatively, you may be interested to know I plan to live and work in Sydney following Uni. :)
Best wishes my friends, keep hoping;
Katie :)
P.S. As GCSEs come increasingly closer, please expect me to blog more - sorry; less. Because of me avoiding - sorry, SORRY - increasing my revision and studying, there will be mor - less time for impor - inane internet ramblings. I look forward to it ;)
xx
I am (slowly) on the mend, which may be down to the sixty thousand pills I am taking on a thrice-daily basis. Possibly. It's not taken much effect as of yet, but we shall remain helpful; shan't we?! After all, without hope, we are hopeless. Uh, yes.
In lighter news, I have developed a revision timetable! Ooh-er, I hear you cry, Katie with her fancy ways! Fear not, my little spice-racks, I have not elevated myself above common-as-muck status at present, but I can see the gleaming, biro-scribbled, product of my efforts blue-tacked on the side of my bookcase from my now neatly-organised desk. Simple things, my friends, simple things.
In more interesting news (yes, there is such a thing), I purchased some iPod speakers yesterday from a charming young (and I mean, young. He made me look ancient) man yesterday. I spent apparent hours agonising over choices of sound quality, radio alarms, LCD displays and whether they had a funny dial you could play with - but I eventually decided. Money well spent. Or so I thought.
I returned home, tore them from the box and thrust the little silvery thing in wherever it was supposed to go. Nothing. Double-checked it was plugged in correctly. Nothing. All my delight at how neatly the speakers had been packaged evaporated like summer rain as I attempted to wriggle my iPod into what I hoped was a more suitable position.
Finally, life. No sound, but a flash of green - which, according to the 190 page instruction manual (7 pages of which are English and therefore of any use to me) means it is charging. So I waited. And waited some more.
Then, the flicker of life extinguished before my big brown eyes as if urinated on by a particularly vicious canine. At first, fury overtook me, then disappointment and finally frustration.
Fear not my loyal followers; all three of you will be satisfied to know I shall return tomorrow with a slightly peturbed frown and potentially a short skirt for speedier service.
Alternatively, you may be interested to know I plan to live and work in Sydney following Uni. :)
Best wishes my friends, keep hoping;
Katie :)
P.S. As GCSEs come increasingly closer, please expect me to blog more - sorry; less. Because of me avoiding - sorry, SORRY - increasing my revision and studying, there will be mor - less time for impor - inane internet ramblings. I look forward to it ;)
xx
Tuesday 22 December 2009
Devon is full of nutjobs.
Sorry, but it is. I have just been to Sidmouth with my mother, to see my Aunt, and there are NUTTERS everywhere.
CLEARLY the elderly simply go there to die, and the deckchairs are probably full of corpses at the end of each sunlit day. I experienced a pre-death nutter yesterday, in a gawwjus lil' gift shop full of quaint loveliness named "All Things Bright And Beautiful".
I was talking about the Daily Mail to my Aunt, and it was just general chat UNTIL Nutter Number One grabbed my arm (yes, she actually touched me) and said "Oh they are far right, aren't they?" then went on this very disconcerting rant about political ignorance in the youth today, stated her awe at my future studying of Government & Politics at A-Level, assumed my Aunt was my mother and FINALLY let us, smirking and giggling, out of her vice. We escaped, just, with bruises on our arms and mouths aching from trying not to laugh.
It was BONKERS.
The rest of our trip was relatively un-fucking-weird, and I enjoyed the seaside overall. But... Sidmouth? WEIRD.
CLEARLY the elderly simply go there to die, and the deckchairs are probably full of corpses at the end of each sunlit day. I experienced a pre-death nutter yesterday, in a gawwjus lil' gift shop full of quaint loveliness named "All Things Bright And Beautiful".
I was talking about the Daily Mail to my Aunt, and it was just general chat UNTIL Nutter Number One grabbed my arm (yes, she actually touched me) and said "Oh they are far right, aren't they?" then went on this very disconcerting rant about political ignorance in the youth today, stated her awe at my future studying of Government & Politics at A-Level, assumed my Aunt was my mother and FINALLY let us, smirking and giggling, out of her vice. We escaped, just, with bruises on our arms and mouths aching from trying not to laugh.
It was BONKERS.
The rest of our trip was relatively un-fucking-weird, and I enjoyed the seaside overall. But... Sidmouth? WEIRD.
Sunday 13 December 2009
Bon apres-midi, toulemondes...
...d'accord. Excuse mon francais, s'il vous plait - je sais c'est terrible. Et c'est de babelfish.com, donc je suis tres desole.
Oh fuck it, I like french but that was getting complicated. I'll try again another day (year). Anyway - this is a show-off blog post. Because I have been PRODUCTIVE. Babelfish says it is 'productif' in french, but I doubt their ability and knowledge, to be frank.
Would you like a list of my productivity? I'm sure you would:
1. I have followed Dixy's advice and created a 'revision zone' in my room. Admittedly, I am just blogging and facebooking in my 'revision zone' (speech bunnies are required whenever this phrase is said aloud), but the principle is still there.
2. I made some BANANA BREAD. I don't much like banana bread, but I had a dream that the food teacher in our school made some for me, and I woke up with a craving. Unfortunately, in the dream it had chocolate in it and was simply just CALLED Banana Bread. However, I trusted my subconscious and made the bread. And it's actually pretty nice stuff.
3. I have organised all my books/revision textbooks/sheets into magazine boxes. Unfortunately I am taking nine exams, and the desk will only take about seven. But there you go. Again, it is the principle.
4. My room is spotless. It's really lovely, and the cat has been curled up on the bed ALL day (and all night; she slept on my feet!) and there are fairy lights up and it's all wonderful. I have a lovely view from my window, too. Okay, so it's a cemetery. But it helps me focus on wanting to do things before I get there. I'll pose the biggest problem to you, however: the normal answer to "You've got noisy neighbours, who you gonna call?" is the police. Us? Ghostbusters.
5. I tidied downstairs too. Then messed it up, but managed to blackmail mama into re-tidying it, because I tidied it the first time. Mwaha.
And numero SIX is: I've written loads of my script :) I've gone all supersticious about it though, and won't read it back through, and I have to write in certain colours. Okay, that sounded LESS weird in my head than it does in black and off-white. Never mind :)
Anyway, have a LOVELY Sunday, I'll no doubt blog later. Or not. Who knows? I don't.
Au revoir,
Kate (:
Oh fuck it, I like french but that was getting complicated. I'll try again another day (year). Anyway - this is a show-off blog post. Because I have been PRODUCTIVE. Babelfish says it is 'productif' in french, but I doubt their ability and knowledge, to be frank.
Would you like a list of my productivity? I'm sure you would:
1. I have followed Dixy's advice and created a 'revision zone' in my room. Admittedly, I am just blogging and facebooking in my 'revision zone' (speech bunnies are required whenever this phrase is said aloud), but the principle is still there.
2. I made some BANANA BREAD. I don't much like banana bread, but I had a dream that the food teacher in our school made some for me, and I woke up with a craving. Unfortunately, in the dream it had chocolate in it and was simply just CALLED Banana Bread. However, I trusted my subconscious and made the bread. And it's actually pretty nice stuff.
3. I have organised all my books/revision textbooks/sheets into magazine boxes. Unfortunately I am taking nine exams, and the desk will only take about seven. But there you go. Again, it is the principle.
4. My room is spotless. It's really lovely, and the cat has been curled up on the bed ALL day (and all night; she slept on my feet!) and there are fairy lights up and it's all wonderful. I have a lovely view from my window, too. Okay, so it's a cemetery. But it helps me focus on wanting to do things before I get there. I'll pose the biggest problem to you, however: the normal answer to "You've got noisy neighbours, who you gonna call?" is the police. Us? Ghostbusters.
5. I tidied downstairs too. Then messed it up, but managed to blackmail mama into re-tidying it, because I tidied it the first time. Mwaha.
And numero SIX is: I've written loads of my script :) I've gone all supersticious about it though, and won't read it back through, and I have to write in certain colours. Okay, that sounded LESS weird in my head than it does in black and off-white. Never mind :)
Anyway, have a LOVELY Sunday, I'll no doubt blog later. Or not. Who knows? I don't.
Au revoir,
Kate (:
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