An Unexpected Return: The ‘I’m Kidding Mum’ Edition

Once again. I am always disappearing for long periods of time, and – honestly – so much has happened since I last blogged on the 1 August 2016. Unfortunately, I have no elaborate, eloquent essays like my last post, so this is simply pure, unadulterated rambling. No structure, no hidden messages, no propaganda.

Just my nonsense.

So what have you missed? First of all… well, not first of all, but one of the most important things: I turned 17. (Wahey!) This is a milestone in UK terms because (also most importantly) I can start to learn how to drive. I am also one year closer to getting married without my parent’s permission; this, naturally, is obviously the number one goal.

I’m kidding mum, that is obviously NOT the number one goal. 🙂

Secondly, I’ve made new friends. I say new friends, I mean friends who have literally fallen into my lap due to entirely unforeseen circumstances. As I, often do, never directly use their names, Cameron – as she is called for an entirely justifiable reason – is a new friend I have discovered, to be politically correct,  who shares my love (pun intended) for words, writing, racial politics and humour. I’m low-key glad I’m talking to her now, too. There has been the development of my friendship with Spaceboi who is, in fact, a boy from space, because he is out of this world. Literally. He also still owes me Welsh soil. (Even though he’s dying and he can’t swallow. #GetBetterSoon) And as a new edition to my shiny card collection of friends, Bag Juice, so named for his favourite beverage in Jamaica (yes, I also went to Jamaica for the summer) is – I have discovered – my ‘long-lost cousin’, whose laugh makes me laugh.

As a matter of fact, he’s on the phone to me as I write this. Bag Juice, as in. As he has just brazenly told me, after a small dispute over GCSEs, “I know bare.” What a legend. Truly inspirational words from an inspirational young man.

(I was going to start the next paragraph with the word ‘also’ but because he’s now at A-Level and thinks he’s a bit cool, Bag Juice suggested that I start with the word ‘conjointly’. I’ve never even heard of it before in my life. He now tells me I should look it up in a dictionary or a thesaurus, because of course, “he knows bare.”)

Conjointly, I have continued my current studies in A-Levels, continuing on with the ever-stressful English Literature, Spanish (now so rapid that I’m surprised I’m not told to bring a life-jacket to every lesson) and History, which is the only thing that is keeping me going right now anyway. But I don’t have a choice, and so I am aiming for that #AcademicExcellence because I intend to make the best of this year. Especially since last year didn’t exactly go to plan. And, naturally, I do not want a repeat of the academic DISASTER (to put it lightly) that was the school term of 2015.

I’m kidding mum, it wasn’t a COMPLETE disaster. 🙂

[Update: Bag Juice has now gone. It’s just me now; thank goodness he’s left me to blog in PEACE!]

Praise the Lord, though, that I got an A and C in my AS Levels. The A was (entire unsurprisingly) in Drama and the C was in Spanish, and even though, sadly, I have been forced to drop Drama – and will subsequently miss my husband Torvald, and my Polish twin sister Caroline, and Turkey, and just everyone in the class – God helped me to pass my Spanish. No, but honestly, it had to be Him, because there is not a chance in Hell (ha! see what I did there?) that I was able to understand a single word on that test paper.

It was all Greek to me. (I’m kidding mum, I obviously revised for it. 🙂 )

Also, on the theme of #AcademicExcellence, I’ve recently deleted my Instagram and Snapchat – and I couldn’t have chosen a better time, really – so that I can focus on my work and my spiritual life as I realised they’re literally two of the biggest distractions for me. I’ve only been accessing them illicitly when it is 100% necessary. (I’m kidding mum, I don’t illegally sneak onto them on my laptop. 🙂 )

Since the tearful and heart-wrenching ending of Downton Abbey, and the anxious wait for the next season of Velvet to be released on Netflix, I have found a new program to alleviate my desperate and insatiable longing for period dramas; Victoria, on ITV. We only have a slight problem – well, I say it’s a slight problem, when in reality it’s a large problem that brings about very worrying developments and has even worse implications; Victoria and Albert, the cutest televised historical couple that I have seen to date, are related.

“But that’s not so bad!”, I hear you cry. “All the British Royal family are inbred!” (You wouldn’t be wrong if you did say this; our current Queen Elizabeth and her husband are second cousins once removed). But wait! Victoria and Albert – the cutest televised historical couple that I have seen to date – are not only related; they are *drum roll* FIRST COUSINS! (Gasp! Shock! Horror!)

What shocks me the most though, is not that they are related or that they had 9 kids (and that’s at LEAST 9 sex – 9 too MUCH sex for first cousins, in my humble opinion), but the fact that despite knowing this shocking fact, I am still high-key gunning for their sweetly romantic relationship.

In other words, I am high-key gunning for incest. (Please feel free to quote me; you will never hear these words come out of my mouth at any other point in my life). What’s wrong with me? I mean, I know I’m a nerd for history, but I’m NOT a nerd for incest and there is never any excusable justification for this practice, right?

I’m kidding mum, I don’t support incest. 🙂

Anyhow. We’ve lost a key member of our History band, which was named ‘Volksgemeinschaft’; now Babs has left and our topic has changed in History (Civil Rights in America from 1865 – 1992) we’ve had to rename ourselves ‘The White Citizens’ Council’. Which is just historical banter, but PLEASE don’t assume that we’re only made up of racist white people, because I am neither racist nor white. I don’t know about the others though… I know for a fact that Mags has admitted to being a white supremacist on the weekends, and she does own an uncanny amount of white bedsheets?

I’m kidding mum, none of my friends are white supremacists. 🙂

Speaking of white supremacy, I also want to say, a HUGE congratulations (and shout out) to the KKK, who would have been in existence – by December 24th of this year – for 151 years! Yes, you’ve read that entirely correctly! The fun-loving, all-hating, Christian band of ‘lovable rogues’ (as I, so gingerly, put it) have been up and running for 151 years! Since December 1865, who would have thought that they would have STILL (yes, that’s right, STILL, because they have an official website and everything!) been alive and well in September of 2016?

Certainly not me. That’s who. (Especially to all those who think we live in a ‘post-racial’ society, they are a group who were literally born out of racist ideologies and stand for white supremacy and are still today being supported by American citizens.)

But let’s not dwell on the positives, eh?

My writing attempts since 1 August have been somewhat faulty; did that sentence even make sense? Probably not. Goes to show, right? But when I was in Jamaica, I kept a diary of the goings-on (for about a week or two) which I tried to start off emotionally-neutrally, but ended up failing and just revealing the depths of my soul to. The worrying thing is, even though I know it’s at home, I can’t remember where I put that notebook. (I’m kidding mum, not the depths of my soul.) But I don’t doubt I will shortly find it and be able to burn whatever necessary incriminating pages.

I’m kidding mum, I’m not going to burn any of it, it’s all evidence to be used against me in the future. 🙂

And on that note, I think it’s time for me to once again depart and leave the heart of my blog empty and waiting for me to return at sporadic intervals, whenever I gather the ability to write.

Farewell, until next time,

The Faerie Squad Mother x


p.s. I’m kidding mum.


Perpetual Percentages

I am currently sitting at my desk with a tab open with YouTube playing and the face of Henry VIII from my history textbook disconcertingly staring at me.
I don’t know what I’ve come here to talk about but seeing as I haven’t posted anything since February, I thought I might maybe once again grace the face of my own blog.
What is there to update you on? Well, I have my first actual AS Level exam this Friday. Nobody panic, it’s just Drama. Well… I say JUST but I’m only doing this one practical, so it’s pretty damn important and Drama is my AS Level, so I can’t afford to flop this one.

I’d rant about it but I really can’t be bothered to rant about anything right now. That’s a lie, I want to rant but I have nothing to rant about. And I always whine about the British Education system anyway. We already know how flawed it is.

My internet is also playing up, so I have had to refresh this bar several times. My music doesn’t want to play anymore because it seems like this is ‘Violate Rianna’ Day – it says ‘Problem loading page’ – and so I’ve had to literally copy and paste all my blog post text onto a WORD document (a Word Document… am I living in the dark ages, internet provider?) so I can continue to write unhindered without the worry that the website will crash and I will lose all my carefully crafted sentences.

I lie, they’re not carefully crafted. But would you like to know what IS carefully crafted? My witty responses to people when they’re stressing me out. I’m not a funny person (I admit it, reluctantly, although it may surprise you to hear) but for some reason, I become funny when I’m being witty and sarcastic. Although I know several people who would contest this, let me tell you, it’s like every ounce of humour is being stored up within me, and I simply cannot access it. But then suddenly, in one moment of scathing wit and sass, every single bit of humour pours out of me, with the force and intensity of a skilfully-wielded sledgehammer, and it is truly mind-blowing.

I’d also like to take this moment to point out I like to exaggerate things a lot. If I was to rewrite that last sentence, I’d replace the phrase ‘skilfully-wielded sledgehammer’ with the phrase ‘all-destructive tsunami’. Perhaps that works better in toning down my hyperbole.

English is going well. I didn’t think I’d like Frankenstein at first, I can’t lie, but I have come to a grudging tolerance of it. Perhaps myself and the novel’s relationship will improve sometime in the near future, but I wouldn’t stake my life on it, to be entirely honest. Also, I recently starred (I say ‘starred’ but all I did was read) as the part of Blanche in ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’. I think I did an alright job, considering that I gave her one of the poshest British accents you could imagine (despite the fact that she comes from SOUTHERN America) and that I – like Blanche DuBois – am the epitome of a ‘Southern Belle’.

[Rianna’s Note: The internet has returned and I’ve managed to reload my YouTube but I’m not going to be so trusting of WordPress just yet… Also, le sister has just called me for dinner, so I shall return in a few short moments after this undetectable break…]

Para la mayoría, Español me haces querer a morir. (That sentence was probably wrong anyway, but I think that it means: For the most part, Spanish makes me want to die) It’s definitely great, because I love learning it and it’s an amazing skill to have – as in, speaking another widely-spoken language – but the standard which we learn it at is no longer the standard where you can breeze through. Like there’s so much effort involved and so much work and so much grammar. And so many rules! Like they say, you have to learn the rules to be able to break them, but there are so many more irregular verbs and conjugations than you would ever believe!

[Rianna’s Note: The internet has once again removed itself from my computer, so Windows Media Player is now the best substitute for YouTube. By the way, do I get money from these endorsements, because I’m actually mentioning them? Windows should sponsor me LOL @BillGates do you want to sponsor me? I’m more than happy to write positively about Microsoft for a few thousand dollars or so.]

But History is the only thing that is (mostly) not making me want to die. The source papers are a joke and Edward VI’s and Mary I’s ecclesiastical policies are going to be the death of me. We can summarise all by saying, “Somerset was useless, Northumberland was LESS useless, Edward was completely useless, Jane was useless, Mary was useless, Phillip was just a complete idiot and nothing was restored effectively until Elizabeth took the throne.”

But would I get full marks for writing that in an essay? No.

[Rianna’s Note: I just did some quick research on Microsoft and apparently Bill Gates is no longer the largest shareholder, it’s some guy called Steve Ballmer so @SteveBalmer or @BillGates, whichever one of you it is, please. Honestly, I won’t even ask for that much.]
And let’s discuss how PEAK Mary I’s life was. She came to the throne after both her father and half-brother had disinherited her. She misinterpreted England’s support for her as support for her almost fanatical Roman Catholicism, and decided, ‘Great, I have England’s support so I’ll change making drastic changes and burn people at the stake.’ To make it worse, she married a Roman Catholic Spaniard, Philip (technically Felipe, if you want to be entirely correct) II of Spain, who was already responsible for the Inquisition in Spain, and together they pretty much tore down the name of Roman Catholicism in England and forced Protestants to the continent. (Which just means mainland Europe, so I’m not sure why they call it ‘the continent’ like it’s the only one in the world…)

But the BEST bit (and by best, I mean worst) about her life, was the fact that her husband didn’t even love her. Not even a tiny bit. And he didn’t even pretend. He’d literally visit England, burn some Protestants, do his ‘duty’ by her (i.e. sleep with her and try to pop out some heirs) and then return to Spain. He’d GET UP after sleeping with her and then hop on the next boat to Spain. How much of a violation is that?

Not just that, but as soon as she died – without children, may I add – he proposed to another gal. Which doesn’t seem so bad, if we disregard the fact that his new proposed affiance was none other than Mary’s sister, Elizabeth I. He really had no shame.
I feel like Philip would be that guy who you’d message, then he take 43 hours to respond, and when he finally opens your message, he wouldn’t even respond. He’d just leave you on read. You get me @Squad?
I mean, personally, I don’t like Philip, but each to their own, eh?

[Rianna’s Note: I found out that neither Steve nor Bill are the CEO of Microsoft. The CEO is in fact Satya Nadella. @Steve @Bill @Satya, please don’t let me suffer here in the depths of hell that is the British education system. Seriously. I’ll say whatever you want me to about your products. Not that many people read what I write anyway, but take pity on me. How else will I pay for my Higher Education? If I tag Microsoft in this, will they be more likely to see my desperate pleas?]

On a combined Spanish and History note, however, my Tudor teacher told us that there is a gap in the Tudor field for competent Spanish speakers. Because obviously, as Philip (yes, the Spanish one whom I do not have an affiliation with) was a pretty important figure in Tudor England, a lot of his documents are undecipherable, because they’re in Spanish. Not to mention, you can hardly Google translate the jumble of language that is Tudor English, let alone medieval Spanish in relation to the Tudors.
So she told us we all have to go to King’s College, and that myself and Babs have to go into Tudor history as we’re the only two in the class who do Spanish, and basically decipher the important documents. (She didn’t specify which important documents, but there ya go. Life plan mapped out for us by teachers LOL)

[Rianna’s Note: The internet is slowly coming back and then going again.]

What more nonsense do I have to ramble about?
Well, I’ve made some more friends since February and March. Which is great, right? And one of them (shoutout to Becky, if you’re reading this LMAO) literally understands every single one of my struggles.

Also, there’s this girl who I usually see travelling home on my route, but I figured she lives in my area. But we take different routes home, so I figured out her route. And we always see each other but we’ve never spoken. But today, I went to my Consortium school and she is friends with one of the girls in my group I suppose? So, she was walking with us and stayed with us for a bit and it turns out she’s actually hilarious. (Who would have thought, right?) Anyway, I’ve finally spoken to her; she told me she figured out my route home too – which is entirely NOT creepy, because that’s the sort of things girls do – and we’ve agreed to talk whenever we see each other now. Que fabuloso. (See, my Spanish isn’t entirely wasted!)

[Rianna’s Note: My back hurts. Also my dad just brought a new battery for my laptop, because the one before was completely WHACKED. Literally, if you used the laptop, you’d have to keep it plugged in and charging or the computer would switch off. And even when it was plugged into the power cable, it wouldn’t charge. It just stayed at 34% perpetually, until it’s perpetual percentage dropped to 20%, then I was terrified it was going to die. So I just kept it on all the time. But now it’s fine so praise the Lord, I can walk it around the house without having to bring my power cable everywhere.]

Well, I think I’m done. This has been a productive use of time. I need to bring a slice of bread into school tomorrow for Drama, and I have to sort out my costume, so I’ll just go now and sort out my life. (Still in the continual process of doing so, but at least I’m getting somewhere!)

The Faerie Squad Mother x

p.s. I did, in fact, hyperlink as many social media sites as I could find from those three guys from Microsoft, so let’s hope they see my plea and fund my life.


Update: My Life – Bitterness and Malice*

Hello everyone, I’ve just finished my homework for this week.

This is a first. Please do not expect to see those words again anytime soon for two reasons:

  1. No time = No blog posts
  2. I don’t often finish all my homework at the weekend.

Which, yes, I know is probably bad, but I have 5 hours of free periods to do work during the week, so I’m fine. No detentions.

However lovely it may be, I didn’t really come here to small talk. I came here to have a rant, but then I thought, oh no, I can’t do that, because if the people I want to rant about read this rant then… that’s AWKS.

So let’s forgo the rant. Instead, I will channel all my ranty-ness, annoyance and irritation into a blog post which is fuelled with bitterness and malice. (See if you can detect the bitterness and malice and you get a prize! Just to make it even easier for you, I’ll add asterisks to the end of sentence which I took particular care to infuse with bitterness and/or malice. Take note how I even added an asterisk to the title, as it contained those two words! Fantastic!)

So first of all, update on my school life. I’m currently studying English Literature, History, Spanish and Drama – which, you may note are all essay-based subjects! Congratulations, you are correct! They are all essay-based subjects! I have chosen FOUR essay-based subjects!* (<—- asterisk) Let’s start with the best one, shall we?

Drama.* (It wasn’t even a sentence, but I think the tone that I said that in my head DEFINITELY deserved an asterisk)

I hate writing in drama so much. I love acting, I’m pretty good at it (or at least, so says my acting grade) and I am very dramatic.

I HATE WRITING. So naturally, when I was offered to do Drama AS at my school, which was comprised of 100% coursework (i.e. mostly acting and a TINY bit of writing, but no written exam at the end of the year) I was in heaven. As long as I worked hard, that’d be a guaranteed good grade.

Then my school decided to not run it because all the lovely people* (<—- asterisk) who wanted to do it decided not to go to my school. So what happened was I had to go to another school nearby for Consortium to do it. But guess what? Their school doesn’t run the same course that mine does. Their school doesn’t do 100% coursework.

Their school also has a written exam at the end of the year. I can’t NOT do Drama because then I will only have three A-Levels and no AS, but I can’t DO it because I don’t want to do all that lovely writing. Imagine, pages and pages and pages of, not actually writing about my OWN acting, NO, writing about how I would direct a scene that someone else would play. Because I care SO much about how to direct scenes to display the hierarchy between Nora and Krogstad.* (<—- asterisk) (For all those who are interested, we’re studying ‘A Doll’s House’ by Henrik Ibsen; it’s an alright play, but I don’t really want to study and write about how to direct scenes and cast actors, I sort of just want to ACT) No. I don’t care, actually. What I WOULD like to do is hunt down every single one of the students who decided not to come to my school to do Drama AS and give them a box of chocolates.* (<—- asterisk) Like, congratulations. You have made my life so much better, I cannot thank you enough.* (<—- asterisk)

Next subject. Spanish.

I can’t rant very much because I run the risk of being read by people I could potentially rant about, so I’ll just say that it’s going well enough. I was a bit worried at the beginning of the year because we had a girl in our class who was Brazilian and could speak relatively fluent Spanish so I was a bit like …. ? And she was a tad arrogant and I was sorta like, I don’t REALLY like you. I mean, she was fine OUTSIDE of Spanish, but then in the lesson she suddenly got all hoity-toity and I was a bit like, I can’t deal with this. But then she left so I was like fine okay. So we’re RELATIVELY fine.

Next subject. English Lit.

But, let me ask you all, WHAT IS ENGLISH LITERATURE? WHAT IS IT? WHO DEFINES THE RULES WHICH CONFINE ENGLISH LITERATURE TO WHAT IT IS? (English inside joke) Also, we’re reading ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ by Margaret Atwood. Can I just say it is one SHAMAZING book!* (<—- asterisk) It is not at all weird, perverse or warped and it is an entirely COMFORTABLE book to read with your English teacher out loud!* (<—- asterisk) I almost feel the same level of annoyance towards the narrator, Offred, who is an ‘untrustworthy narrator’, as I did towards Atticus Finch, who is the book’s ‘moral compass’. Like, I know I’m NEVER going to be able to get away with not using that phrase to describe the ‘narrative voice’ every time I get an essay about it.

Because I will. Because it’s an ESSAY BASED SUBJECT.* (<—- asterisk)

Next subject. History.

I can’t even complain about this, I’m so surprised. I literally can find NOTHING to whine about with history, so I’ll just add an * so that I feel a little bit less biased towards this subject. Like, I literally abandoned Geography to take History, and it seems to have been, out of all of my options, the best choice. This is weird LOL. I mean, minus the essay-writing obviously, the lessons are actually so fun. And there’s 5 of us in the class (were 4 before, but then Steph dropped Chem, YES STEPH!) and we have top banter. Right now, in Tudor England we’re doing Henry VII – great fun. In Nazi Germany we’re detailing Hitler’s rise to power; it’s actually so interesting.

Wow. Well, there ya go, Pete. Something that I can’t whine about. Are you surprised?

Because I certainly am.

Okay, moving on. Update on my writing life.

I have none.* (<—- asterisk. Also, hyperbole. AYYY getting in them key terms from English Literature) I have written very little since for EVER, I’m working on about forty-trillion things at the same time right now, but they’re not going anywhere because most of the time I’m too a) tired, b) busy or c) annoyed to write anything worthwhile.

So, I have written nothing, my creativity is crumbling to pieces mostly, squad is being torn apart by school and boys are very silly.

Update on my qualification life. Would just like to clarify that even though I have a Masters Degree in ‘Rambling’, ‘Dramatic Queenship’ (I’m going to need to do my Masters in ‘Dramatic Empress-ship’ soon) and ‘Girlology’ amongst other things, I am NOT a qualified Boyologist.* (<—- asterisk) In fact, all you boys just baffle me in general. So it would probably be good if you spoke my language; and you have a choice as well! I speak two languages: Girl and English. Addressing me in either one is fine.* (<—- asterisk) I also speak Fabulous, but I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself too much by trying to pronounce those words. But of course, what would a statement be without a source. So I took the time to ask my good friend, Z (who, by the way, has a pHD in Boyology) why exactly boys are so confusing, to which he answered:

“I don’t know.”

And there you have it ladies and gentlemen. A qualified boy doesn’t even know how to answer a question about his field of qualification.* (<—- asterisk)

I don’t know how I should tie this post up. It seems to have been relatively bitterness and malice filled. I’m sorry Dezza, I didn’t manage to properly roast this roast to a perfect crisp; it’s a bit of a pathetic one, to be honest. This is why I need to set up that page for you guys PRONTO.

Anyways, love everyone. Sleep safe.

Wait, why am I saying sleep safe, it’s only 7:40. (I mean, unless you sleep at 7:40 in which case, fantastic. You go Glen Coco!) But the sunset times are completely throwing me now, and I need to pay more attention to the time, rather than the colour of the sky outside. Winter is coming! (Oh man, I am acutely aware of the fact that I accidently quoted GoT and I hate myself as a result of it).

Stay safe everyone. I hate this weather. I also strongly dislike Sixth Form.* (<—- asterisk)

God bless, love from your Empress Rianna


We’re Nearly There

Right now I am listening to the songs from one of my favourite musicals, ‘The Sound of Music’. As I type this, ’16 Going On 17′ is playing in the background. It’s almost finished, but (if you’ve seen the movie), it’s doing the instrumental bit when they’re sort of chasing each other around the garden, and then it starts to rain and Kurt kisses her and she gets all excited and runs out in the rain and screams.

Great movie. Seriously. Maybe my description didn’t make it sound as fantastic as it is… Ah well.

It’s actually great when I listen to my music because I feel this amazing detachment from reality and I can kind of submerge myself in my thoughts and write easier. (Depending on the day and my mood of course, but most of the time, it’s great). Right now, it’s ‘My Favourite Things’, which, can I just say, those adverts need to stop stealing and obliterating, because it’s a great song.

Anyway. I’m not even on topic right now. I was going to update you on what I’ve been doing this week, seeing as I haven’t posted in like, 3 days. (Shock horror, right?!) Right, so, my birthday is in about… 13 days. Not that anyone is counting, or anything, but because of pre-arranged plans, I won’t be around for my birthday, so I have been out this week planning my party and what I’m going to wear and stuff. Not that it’s particularly interesting, but I’m planning on going to a large green space (with lots of pretty scenery of course, for photo ops) and everyone has to dress up like characters from Ancient Greece. Basically, all the guys have to wear bed sheets, where the girls get to wear long, flowy, chiffon dresses; should make for some fantastic photo ops again.

So Monday entailed myself and my beautiful twinny running around London attempting to find me a dress – which is SO much more difficult during Sales, oh my goodness! – and I found shoes and a belt yesterday. (We’re on ‘Do Re Mi’ from ‘Sound of Music’ now…)

My planning has pretty much just been me organising the games we’re going to play (Egg and Spoon races, Three-Legged races, Sack races, Rounders etc.) because, you only turn 16 once right? I just don’t see the point of having a huge rave when you can just all dress up like idiots and run about like 4 year-olds in a park. Which is what I intend to do basically. And also make all my friends do… I love you guys. 🙂

I also had to write up the Quizzes, because of course, it isn’t just going to be a party. It’s going to be an intense competition; Survival of the Fittest really. So I have 4 categories; Greek Mythology, Disney Classics, High School Musical (I know it’s Disney, but it really needed its’ own category) and then Disney Lyrics, so basically completing a line of  lyrics from Disney songs. So everyone should brush up, and I’ll see who the Ultimate Survivors are.

Today, I woke up with throbbing feet – like, literally, they HURT from all that walking. And let me just tell you, shopping is emotionally and mentally taxing. It is actually so stressful. But I woke up, decided that I would ACTUALLY do some work for Sixth Form (because I have been given literally a STACK of work to do for induction). So, I got out my official looking notebook (Babs, I really should have gotten that one we saw yesterday!) and started making notes.

The first bit to tackle was English. I had an option of 6 books to read and then write an essay on one of them, so I downloaded one that looked interesting-ish (I’m not a huge fan of Dystopia or Sci-Fi, but that’s what all the books were) and put it on my Kindle. So I’ll make a start on that this evening probably, and read it tomorrow when I’m on the train or public transport or whatever. (I’ve given up on the Sound of Music OST, so now I just threw my Disney tunes on)

Then it was History. (Two parts; Nazi Germany and The Tudors, but COME ON. Like, I LOVE The Tudors, why would I even consider doing Nazi Germany first?) I literally spent half the morning watching ‘The Other Boleyn Girl’. No offence to the Queen of Historical Fiction (i.e. Philippa Gregory) but the movie adaptation was so POOR! I trusted it, because the book was AMAZING, but the movie was not there. I was so disappointed. And everything happened so quickly at the end; there was no gradual decline. Her ascension was FAR too rapid and her decline was FAR too sudden. But I got some notes down (not anything I didn’t know already, but I had a black biro and an official looking notebook; so I HAD to take notes)… And then I had to make a start on the Family Tree.

Let me just tell you, I swear, every Tudor and Plantagenet married their cousin. It’s so stressful having to chart all that stuff up when the lines are constantly crossing, and then you see their surname and think, hang on a minute, you’re married to your uncle’s step-sisters brother. (Not exactly, that is just an example). Or even worse, you’re married to your first cousin. (A lot of them were married to their second and third cousins…) But I mean, as far as they were concerned it was fine, because they all received ‘Official dispensations’ from the Pope. As if he has the actual authority to permit incest. As if because Mr. Pope says it’s alright then, ‘HEY-HO! Let’s forget everything else like basic LOGIC and decency and just get married anyway!’

ALSO, one of the key figures in Tudor England, Margaret Beaufort, was married when she was 12, and by the time she was 13, she was a pregnant widow. I kid you not.

But anyways. I’ll just sip my tea. 🐸☕️

The timeline for Henry VII was not as much of a breeze as I thought it would be, because in History, NOBODY CARES ABOUT HENRY VII because he’s not Henry VIII. (In my opinion, for everyone else, Henry VIII is only the interesting one in Tudor England History because he caused so many scandals with all the women he bedded and all the problems he created, simply because he couldn’t keep it in his pants…) So nobody thinks that there should be much information on his reign. There was a bit but not much, and I had to piece together information from 5 different sites, just to make a timeline.

And I don’t even know how I’m going to tackle Henry VIII’s timeline, because there will be SO much about him online. Without even doing Henry VIII’s timeline, I managed to fill four A4 sides of my official-looking notebook with gobbledy-gook about the Tudors, their family tree, their dates and places of birth and death and the tiny amount of information I gleaned from that *coughs* TERRIBLE *coughs* movie.

The next (and, it could be argued, most important) thing to tackle is the Spanish booklet. It is literally a 40 page booklet filled with CONJUGATING VERBS and TRANSLATIONS and I love Spanish so much, but I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS. I managed to get through 12 pages, which is something I guess; I was doing it whilst watching ‘The Other Boleyn Girl’ too. At the boring bits or the bits when the characters were having those awkward and intense stare offs, then I’d just do more of the Spanish booklet, and try to ignore the sucky sounds they made when they finally ended up kissing. (Gross, still).

So I’ll be bringing that everywhere with me from now on. EVERYWHERE.

I’ve rambled for enough. The title is just in recognition of the fact that I have about 3 weeks before I have to be back at Sixth Form. (September third, YAY!) And so I’m not entirely THRILLED but I am also anticipating it anxiously.

So there we go. Shoutout to all those who are getting their A-Level results tomorrow, and also those GCSE students who have still gotta wait another week. Because we all know that it’s the waiting that kills us.

Love you all,

Queen Rianna


p.s. I also watched Ant-Man on Monday with some of my friends, and PAUL RUDD IS ANT-MAN????? As in, the guy who plays Josh in ‘Clueless’ (LITERALLY my favourite movie EVER!) HE IS ANT-MAN! I couldn’t even concentrate for most of it, I just kept thinking, ‘CLUELESS. CLUELESS. THIS IS JOSH FROM CLUELESS. BAE FROM CLUELESS IS CURRENTLY ON THE SCREEN.’

Sorry. I’m done now. 🙂

A Glossary Of Terms

You’ve probably noticed, but I’m quite a peculiar person. As a result, all my friends are also unique; not directly because of me, of course, but I have found that I can’t be friends with people who class themselves as ‘normal’. (But obviously, the whole ‘normal’ thing is debatable…) The Crews I form a part of – Astellia, The Lads and Squaaad – are all just like me, in that they are unique individuals, have very… imaginative minds and all have a good heaping of #Banter. My sincerest apologies for hashtagging Banter.

Anyways, I’m getting sidetracked here. I need to keep my post relevant to my title. It IS going somewhere.

Myself and my non-best friend Babs have very interesting conversations, in that we often make up words and phrases, and anyone who reads our conversations without knowing us (even if they knew the context) would think that we are:

a) Crazy. Absolutely BONKERS. Mental.

b) Starcrossed lovers (We’ve been a happily married couple for 20 years actually…)

c) Incapable of speaking English or correctly utilizing spelling and grammar

But basically, because our methods of conversing and the phrases we use are so special, I felt like I needed to dedicate an entire post to them, their meanings, and when to use them in context. So here we have it. DISCLAIMER: The words and phrases are in as much order as mine and Bab’s lives. (i.e. NONE)


  1. Laugh Laugh – When someone says something which is ‘laugh laugh’ it makes you want to laugh. (e.g. ‘Babs, you are so Laugh Laugh’, or ‘Bobs, you should see this Laugh Laugh thing I saw on Facebook’ etc.).
  2. Scienced – When you’re not infatuated with someone, obsessed, or in love, and there is no other term to describe what you are feeling – because it is simultaneously serious but also lighthearted – then you are ‘scienced’. (e.g. ‘Babs, I think I am scienced’, or ‘Bobs, this girl is SO scienced’ etc.).
  3. Quick – When someone badly phrases a sentence that they send to you, and as a result, you, them and your friends make a long-running joke about it. (A joke which, unsurprisingly, lasts longer than them.)
  4. ‘Grilled Tomato’ – When you are on the bus to school in the morning, but you’re really not feeling well, so you speak to an unqualified doctor (i.e. your friend) and she tells you that you are a ‘grilled tomato’. (e.g. ‘Babs, you look like you’re feeling like a Grilled Tomato’, or ‘Bobs, I was diagnosed just now as a Grilled Tomato’ etc.).
  5. Transcript – When you are having a very interesting conversation which you need to share with your friend, but because your phone is tiny, it would take far too long to take and send screenshots, so instead you copy and paste all the messages to her as a ‘transcript’. (e.g. ‘Babs, here is the transcript’, or ‘Bobs, send me a transcript’ etc.)
  6. Screenshot – What you are requested to send when a conversation becomes very interesting and your phonescreen is NOT tiny (i.e. you have an iPhone 6) so you send these to the other recipient. (e.g. ‘Babs, send me those screenshots’, or ‘Bobs, do you want some screenshots?’ etc.)
  7. ‘1 out of 10’ – Used as an insult when said singularly, but used as a compliment when followed up immediately after with, ‘I mean, 8 out of 10’. This phrase is reserved for when your friend is looking especially spicy and asks you how they look, you respond with: “1 out of 10… *pause* I mean, 8 out of 10.” Also, see spicy. Related to ’10 out of 10, would bang’.
  8. Spicy – When the spice factor of one of your friends is 42, and you cannot contain being around them. Also, when you have to drink a glass of water when you see them because they are hotter than the Hot level at Nando’s. (e.g. ‘Babs, that picture is spicy’, or ‘Bobs, you are looking so spicy’ etc.)
  9. Bae – The person who you are ‘scienced’ with, and often call ‘spicy’ or send their Whatsapp profile pictures to your group chats to admire them. (e.g. ‘Babs, your bae is so lovely’, or ‘Bobs, does my bae know I exist?’ etc.)
  10. Poopface – Scathing insult. Related to ‘Poophead’ or other variations.
  11. Meatball – Intensely scathing insult, even more venemous than ‘poopface’.
  12. 🐋💨 – Meaning ‘Brilliance’, often used after an intense ‘Eureka!’ moment. Also used to express appreciation, as in ‘Fantastic’.
  13. Synonym Wars – One person says a word which has many synonyms and the recipient spontaneously replies with a synonym. Then for the next half hour (or until you run out of words) the only responses to each other are synonyms of the word that was originally mentioned. (No repeats allowed or no synonyms in different languages) (e.g. Brilliant? Fantastic? Amazing? Astonishing? Magnificent? Marvellous? etc.)
  14. Emoji Battle – Someone sends a series of emojis and then the person they are talking to has to multiply those emojis or begin a pattern, such as doubling each emoji, doubling every other emoji etc. This is continued until someone’s phone freezes because too many emojis are being sent or you lose count, because there is no way of monitoring how many emojis exactly are being used.
  15. Mistresses – When you already have a husband, but you also have lots of ‘baes’ that you don’t want to give up, so you have mistresses (no matter what gender, they are mistresses).
  16. #PowerCouple – When yourself and your bae/husband/mistress have a moment which you are just immensely proud of, so you have to acknowledge the two of you as a #PowerCouple.

So there you have it. 16 of Bab’s and Bob’s (Bobs is me by the way) key terms which we use in nearly every single one of our conversations. I can’t include more for obvious reasons, like security reasons and personal reasons and copyright reasons and patriarchal reasons and societal reasons and vocational reasons, and standardised reasons and stupid reasons and all that jazz, but these are our favourite. Without a doubt.

I’m gonna sign off here. I have had all these ideas for my writing while I was blogging, but I was blogging, so obviously I couldn’t really write them down. But I’m gonna do that now. Write them down.

I love you all, shoutout to #SabaReiss (we slayed) and then all my NCS Squad, also it’s great to have you back Dezza. Missed you so much. Love all my readers and also the Squad, The Lads and Astellia.

“Goodnight, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu…” (‘Sound of Music’ reference for Frazza, I SINCERELY hope some of you understood that!)

Queen Rianna


A Few English Lessons

So. *taps mic* Is this thing on?

I haven’t posted for a VERY long time (considering the fact that I am drastically failing at my goal to post at least one thing everyday) and so I feel the need to; especially seeing as this blog is mostly my way of talking to somebody (i.e. you) other than my friends and family who probably get sick of hearing me talk at them all. The. Time.

Anyways, before I start the ACTUAL blog post. This week (hopefully) will be a nerd-filled, jam-packed week of geeky excitement. Myself, the Astellians (all bar Sazza and my little sis) and the Elms Squad are going to turn into a bunch of tourists; we are visiting nearly every single *coughs* FREE *coughs* museum in London. It was literally a matter of Susanna and I sitting down and saying: “We have a week free. We have 10+ museums to visit, so we need to get to at least 2 everyday.”

I even made an itinerary and everything. (Is that even the right thing? An itinerary?) So that should be absolutely fabulous.

Right, back on track now. So. I’ve probably mentioned before – or you may have even noticed – that I am a stickler when it comes to punctuation and grammar; and very little stresses me out as much as the lack or the misuse thereof.

As briefly as I can in one short evening post, I am going to just highlight some common mistakes, how to rectify them, and then throw in some of those rules. (Because EVERYONE loves English grammar rules!) I’d just like to add a disclaimer: I am not an English scholar. I repeat, I am not an English scholar. I AM, however, a teenager who very much appreciates the correct usage of the Standard English Language and I feel like we need to learn to speak correctly as a generation, to be honest.

I’m rambling again. Anyways. If you’re reading this and you’re American, you may think, “Hey, she is adding a lot of ‘u’s where there don’t need to be any!” Well, let me just tell you: if I read your blog, I am thinking “Hey, he/she has removed all of those ‘u’s which upsets me very much!”

But hey. Common dialects, right?

1. YOUR and YOU’RE

The Queen’s Explanation: YOUR is used in reference to a person’s possession, either of object or character. (i.e. A characteristic or possession, both physical and metaphysical; like emotions)

e.g. YOUR dimples are adorable, YOUR jacket smells like roses, YOUR six-pack… etc.

You cannot use YOUR when you are DESCRIBING what a person is doing or what they are!

e.g. YOUR amazing (though it is true of me, it doesn’t make grammatical sense), YOUR ugly (there are two errors in this example anyway… I am not ugly, and you are using the incorrect word), YOUR winding me up, YOUR boring, etc.

Key Point: YOU’RE is a contraction of “You are”. When you say YOU’RE, you’re saying YOU ARE. So if you replace the word YOU’RE in the sentence with YOU ARE and it doesn’t make sense… YOU ARE using it incorrectly! (See what I did there? Hee hee!)

e.g. YOU’RE fantastic = YOU ARE fantastic (Correct in BOTH senses!)

YOU’RE coat is very nice = YOU ARE coat is very nice (Incorrect!)

KEY POINT: Just don’t get it wrong in conversation with me.


The Queen’s Explanation: THERE is used when you are talking about a place. Let’s combine this concept with point number 1:

e.g. YOUR coat is over THERE, so YOU’RE going over THERE

THEY’RE is a contraction of THEY and ARE (similar to YOU’RE – YOU ARE). You use THEY’RE when you are describing the actions or characteristics of a group of people.

e.g. THEY’RE going over THERE (The same principle applies here; replace it with THEY ARE and if the sentence still makes sense then it is correct!) THEY ARE going over THERE.

THEIR is used when you are attributing a physical or metaphysical possession to a group of people.

e.g. THEIR coats are over THERE THEY’RE going over THERE to get THEIR coats.

Confused yet? YOU ARE? (WOW… I did it again.) Okay good.


This one is a lot simpler than the other two concepts.

The Queen’s Explanation: WHERE is in reference to a place or destination. (e.g. WHERE are THEIR coats? THEIR coats are in your wardrobe, WHERE YOU’RE keeping them…)

WERE (by my understanding at least, I hope this is correct) is simply the past tense particle of the verb ‘to Be’ (Long story, so let’s not get into how that works… it’s an irregular verb, okay?)

e.g. WERE THEIR coats over here? No, THEY’RE over THERE. WHERE are they? THEY’RE with THEIR coats. (I’m not sure why I have a sudden obsession with coats, but for some reason, that’s the only example I seem to remember from all these books about correct grammar and punctuation!)

Key Point: You cannot use WERE in reference to a place.

A good way of remembering THERE and WHERE is that the former can be a direct answer to the latter:


Whereas WERE cannot be used as a response to THERE

I hope this is not getting out of hand now. Only a few more things to clarify now!

4. Using Apostrophes ( ‘ )

The Queen’s Explanation: Apostrophes are not natural disasters. They can be used as means of contractions (not like the ‘giving birth’, ‘dilation’ type contractions; but the ‘shortening word’ contractions) or also to show possession. I am going to try and keep it as simple as possible, because it can get VERY technical.

CAN’T (cannot), DON’T (do not), WON’T (will not), COULDN’T (could not) and WOULDN’T (would not) are all standard examples of using apostrophes for contractions. The use of this ‘ shows that the user has intentionally missed out letters and is replacing those missing letters appropriately by alerting any reader to the fact that they have purposely omitted these.

SARAH’S doing something she SHOULDN’T be; she just CAN’T help herself = Sarah IS doing something she SHOULD NOT be; she just CANNOT help herself. (Meeting up with Lampton boys… just some Astellian banter there)

Using apostrophes to show possession is simple: you use their name or identifying tag and then add an ‘s’ after the apostrophe:

e.g. The CHILD’S pen. The apostrophe highlights to the reader that the pen belongs to the child.

MATTHEW’S family. (Whose family are they? THEY’RE Matthew’s family.)

Now here comes the plot twist. It has always been taught that when someone’s name ends in an S, you cannot apply this principle (adding ‘ ‘s ‘), but actually, that is incorrect. You are allowed to do that… and it is in fact, grammatically correct.

e.g. JAMES’S car – this is actually correct. This is because there is only ONE James.

IF however, the FAMILY is called the JAMES family, only THEN do you add an apostrophe by itself:

e.g. The JAMES’ car.

If I don’t stop now I am very much convinced that this will turn into some sort of online teaching seminar: How To Use English 101. I think I will end with two commonly-taught rules; both of which are absolute RUBBISH to be honest, because they are violated so often:

1. ‘I’ before ‘E’, except after ‘C’.

2. Never start a sentence with a conjuction (i.e. And, because, but, or, also, so) – Honestly, the amount of times on this blog that I have violated this law… I should be put into prison!

And just in case you didn’t think the English language was complicated enough (SEE? I just broke law number 2!) :


The English Language, Ladies and Gentleman. Just try to understand and follow the rules I mentioned above (as in the ones where I was giving my explanation) and you’ll be alright.

As long as you don’t mess them up around me. Then we might have a problem. But with that, I bid you all adieu and goodnight.

From YOUR Queen Rianna


Irony (Pt. 2)

So I was thinking whether I should post Part 2 tomorrow, but I guess since Part 1 and 2 are both about my past primary school experiences, I may as well post it today. The first post was from Years 2 to 4. In this one I’ll get through Years 5 and 6.

4. Year 5 – Miss L

Miss L was one of the loveliest, sweetest teachers that I can remember. She was the sort of person you’d go to when you wanted to cry, when you wanted to talk or when you just wanted to sit with someone in comfortable silence. When we went to ‘The Wilderness Centre’ (kind of like PGL, but the more nature-orientated version), me and my friend shared a room, but we got really scared because there was this horrid tree outside which cast a really scary shadow on the floor. We went to Miss L and she comforted us and gave us lots of sweets. Yes, she was THAT sort of a teacher. The one who genuinely cares about her students.

Miss L also encouraged me within English and she got me interested in Poetry. Now, you may have noticed that I mentioned that “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes is my absolute favourite poem. The interesting thing is that before Year 5, I didn’t really like poetry – not to the extent that I do today – but we studied this poem in English. Now before you think, well it’s not about the teacher, it doesn’t matter what teacher you had for English, you still would have gotten into poetry, NO. No that is a lie. Miss L didn’t just read the poem. She made it come alive. She read it with emotion, with voice, with tone, everything possible to make it feel less like structured rhyme and more like a free-flowing story in prose. Everything about the way she taught me just made me really come alive.

So in 2009 (I think it was that year, I can’t remember too clearly) my local library held a poetry competition and I entered it with my friend. I really regret this now actually, I should have entered it by myself. But anyway, Miss L was the one who told us about it and was very enthusiastic when we were runners-up in the competition. We got to meet an author as well, and got a signed copy of her book, “Being Impossible”. I don’t remember much about the day or the ceremony, but I do remember that I felt very proud at winning something with my poetry.

Miss L taught me that words matter. She taught me that you can do anything and everything with your words if you have the mind for it, if you have the imagination for it. She helped me to widen my thinking, to make me think more like a writer and less like a student simply studying poetry. I loved every second of her English lessons and I can’t thank her enough for helping me to become invested in English and the arts, because now I simply cannot live without them. I love writing poetry and really, a lot of it is down to her.

So, thank you Miss L for encouraging me. Thank you for fuelling my passion and beginning in me a journey which would never end, and one which, seemingly, would become an important factor in my life many years later. I am so grateful for this that you’ve done, and I wish that I was able to see you now, to speak to you and show you my work. To show you what you started and how far I’ve come. For this skill, for this love which you inspired in me, words can never be enough.

5. Year 6 – Miss B

The funniest thing about this Year is that I really don’t remember much. I don’t remember many of my teachers or the stuff that we learnt, but all I really remember is my English lessons.

At this point (and also, as I still am) I was learning and developing as a writer. We used to have to do a lot of creative writing in English and so I always had the chance to write. Miss B was my Year 6 English teacher, and even though I don’t remember much about her, I do remember her speaking to me about my writing one day.

She said something like this, “Rianna, your writing is very good and shows a lot of depth and thought… but you always write about the same thing. You always write romance style, and your writing style is also very predictable. Can’t you try something a bit different?” At the time, I thought it was totally harsh; I was just like “Oh my goodness Miss, I try to write so hard and you just crush my dreams and my ambition by telling me that it is predictable.” (In my head of course, I would never dare to say anything this sassy to a teacher). The next lesson, I was still relatively troubled by what she told me, but when she handed out our books and gave us our instruction, I flipped to a clean page and decided I was going to try something new.

That wasn’t symbolic by the way… but I guess in a way, it slightly was.

I started writing a Sci-Fi style story. Yes, it did slip SLIGHTLY back to romance, but I was getting there. I was developing my skills. Miss B, although it seems like she didn’t do much, was the one who taught me that I don’t have to be confined to one writing style. Yes, perhaps I was good at writing romance stories, but that didn’t mean that I shouldn’t try anything else. She helped me to realise that I could write so much more, I could explore so much more if I just stepped out of my comfort zone and tried something new.

I can’t thank you for this enough Miss B. Yes, I know now that I’m relatively good at writing romance stories, but you were the one who showed me that I could do so much more with my writing ability. I’ve started so many other stories which aren’t romance orientated at all, and I’m so glad that you taught me this from early on, so I’ve had more time to develop. Thank you so much for your help in English, thank you for always being a guide for me and also teaching me things about myself.

So… I think that’s it for tonight. I am DEFINITELY not doing Part 3 right now! That’s going to be WAAAAYY too much to digest. This works nicely with the first one which I posted, because they’re linked directly. But worry not, my dear readers. Part 3 will come tomorrow!

I hope it will at least, I’ve been pretty lazy with my posts in the last couple of days… Sorry about that. *smiles weakly*

Queen Rianna


Captain von ‘Trapped In An Elevator’

I’m on the internet guys! No, not this blog. (That’s a bit obvious really isn’t it?)

I was a runner-up for that fabulous competition being run by IGGY & Litro, and I’m so excited to have had the wonderful chance to have been shortlisted for it. So my story is on their website now; it’s called “My Children Are All Monsters”. Check it out! (

Anyway. Back to the title.

How, you ask, does ‘The Sound of Music’ relate to being trapped in an elevator? (Or a lift as us boring Brits call it…) Well, in the lift today I had to hum that song ‘My favourite things’ in my head, because I think I was going to have a breakdown. Sorry. Let me start from the beginning.

So, the award ceremony was at the Shard, and obviously, YES the Shard is as fancy as it sounds. I’ve never been there before, and needless to say I was gushing over EVERYTHING. (By the way, the view from the floor we were on was amazing! We could see Tower Bridge and the Tower of London and… Sorry, I’m getting carried away). But anyway, they have these really fancy lifts. Like, there aren’t any numbered buttons inside the lift, you press the number of the floor that you want from OUTSIDE the lifts on these really fancy keypad things, and then once you’re in the lift, you can’t change your destination. At first, I thought this was really cool.

Then I got stuck in it.

There was a bunch of us, probably around 7 or 8 people – my mum, dad, older and younger sisters and brother, my aunt and uncle and my English teacher – and we had just left the ceremony. We rushed to get into one of the closing lifts, and just about made it… But as fancy as these lifts were, they were TINY. Regardless, we’re just going down in the lift, and it opens up on the third floor, so we’re all a bit like, “hmm, don’t think this is the right floor”, (It was of course, but we didn’t know this yet), and remain in the lift.

The lift was possessed.

It goes up. It keeps going up to the 27th floor, it eventually stops but the doors don’t open. Then it goes down to the 7th floor. Then it stops. The doors remain firmly shut. It goes back up again, at which point everyone is wondering what is happening. Is some sick person sitting in the ‘control room’ moving the lift up and down just for the banter?


I start laughing. Very loudly and very hysterically. Everyone looks at me and says, “Why are you laughing?” And my response is the generic one.

“Because it’s funny.”

NO. I lied. I was not laughing because it was funny, because there is NOTHING funny about being in a possessed lift in such close proximity with people that you could virtually see up their nostrils. I laughed because that is what I do when I become emotionally overwhelmed and don’t know what else to do but laugh. It was terrifying.

At which point I started to sing the words I remembered from that tune in ‘The Sound of Music’, which isn’t very many. All I remembered was:”Dah dah dah dah dah… dah dah dah ROSES… dah dah dah dah something NOSES. Brown paper packages tied up in string, these are a few of my favourite things…” And then of course the chorus.

We survived. We did. We got out of the lift the next time it opened on the third floor – we didn’t make the same mistake twice. We all… I sprinted out of the lift and onto the landing and took some dramatic heavy breaths. No, really when you’re in a lift with so many people, everybody kind of uses up all the oxygen. I had to take some very deep breaths to regain all that oxygen that I had lost the chance to inhale before. (I’m not sure where the Science in this is, but I’m pretty sure I’m getting this wrong).

Needless to say, it was an eventful day, and I learnt a lot of things. First of all, I learnt NEVER TRUST THE LIFTS AT THE SHARD, because next time, we might not even be lucky enough to get out. We could be going up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down for ALL OF ETERNITY. We narrowly escaped the eternal hellfire. And I promise you, everyone says that nothing is worse than hell, but I’m pretty sure being trapped in an elevator for the rest of your life is worse.

It felt like the rest of my life. I was sure that when I came out of the lift that the dates for my exams would have gone past. (I’m slightly disappointed that this wasn’t the case but, oh well, at least I’m alive to tell the tale).

Second of all, I learnt that life is too short. When I came across this competition, I was just like “ah, why not, may as well enter it.” I do not regret my decision at all. When I wrote my short story, I thought, “Should I enter it? Will it get anywhere?” and the answer to both questions was yes. Yes, yes, 100% yes. There is no point in living and being scared of doing something, of saying something, of writing or drawing something. As somebody put it succinctly today, “Failure is a springboard for improvement.” Success is not final and failure never fatal. We live and learn from our mistakes and we become better as a result of them, but life is far too short for us to NOT do something because we are scared of failure.

Don’t be scared of failure. Embrace it. Let it teach you what it has to and then let it go. And never forget to thank it for teaching you something that success never could. (Oh, that was a bit inspirational. You can totally quote me.)

So yes, I am proud of my achievement today. No, I am not disheartened that I did not win. Yes, I am happy for all my personal cheerleaders, who came with me and were also unable to come, who supported me. No, I am not upset that I didn’t get to taste those delicious looking chocolate brownie things because I was wearing my retainer. (That’s a lie, I totally am). Yes, I am thankful to God that I didn’t asphyxiate in the lift. No, I am not going to be visiting those lifts anytime soon.

I think that’s all from me tonight. I’m supposed to be going on an Ice-Cream date tomorrow (Ooh, how exciting!) and hopefully I’ll go to the gym or at least clock some time running or something.

Stay strong guys.

Love your super excited Queen Rianna


p.s. I found an apple! There was one left, it was hiding in the fruit bowl under the oranges and it was delicious! (Now there are none left. Now I am sad).

I Can’t Wait For Summer

There is nothing more comforting – for me, at least – than sitting down at the end of an English test paper and feeling my fingers cramp with the exertion of quick, restless scribbling. The feeling is one of the best in the world, and I love that I get to flex my hand several times before it goes away. This probably sounds REALLY weird… but it’s not. It’s just the feeling that I have written a lot (probably rambled, but in a sophisticated manner) and have finished it just about on time. My mind is usually still reeling from the test paper, and thinking of all the things I could have said in certain paragraphs, better quotes I could have used to support my point and DAMN I could have written a more sophisticated conclusion.

There is nothing more upsetting than leaving said exam and realising that I have answered BOTH questions… When I was only supposed to answer one. OK, so let me just say, when you’re rushing through a test (you have 45 minutes) and you know that the question is worth 36 marks, you hardly have time to look back into your poetry anthology, let alone make notes and annotate things. You just start writing. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t see the huge, bold OR stuck slap bang in between the two questions.

Like they say. Go the extra mile.

Although, the extra mile was unnecessary and may have possibly caused me to fail in an actual exam. (So thank God this one was a mock). Honestly, I sat there at the end with my three sides of lined A4 paper and thought, ‘Gosh, these don’t seem like enough to get me 36 marks each…’ Even at this point, I didn’t clock. I flipped over the sheets a few times, labelled each one with my name and went through checking, looking for bad punctuation (which is one of my pet-hates) and badly worded sentences. I STILL failed to notice that the biggest mistake I’d made was 1 and a half sides long and not easily rectified.

Of course, it didn’t take long before I was kindly alerted to my mistake by my friend… Almost 15 minutes after I’d left the lesson. Great. Of course, it was too late to do anything, so all I could do was sheepishly tell my teacher that I’d answer both questions and face her (*sobs in recollection*) disappointed smile as she told me that she had clearly told us only to answer one, and did I not see the huge OR in between? (To which, I smiled sadly and shook my head).

And of course, she couldn’t help but add at the beginning of our second test today that we should all “Read the question properly before we start so that we actually answer it correctly.” My friend and I exchanged a knowing glance.

Needless to say, I won’t be doing that again.

There is also nothing more relaxing than coming home, sitting at my desk, blogging about my intensely embarrassing experience and discussing Kylie Jenner’s pregnancy with Tyga with my mum.

She’s 17 by the way. Kylie Jenner, as in. Not my mum.

TTFN, (for all you who remember Winnie The Pooh!*)

Queen Rianna


*TTFN stands for ‘Ta Ta for now’