The Most Wonderful Time of the Year…

It’s that time of year again.

I mean the time when, by the time you’ve left school, the sky is slowly dimming and by the time you’ve reached your road, you have to walk quickly up it; your hand in your coat pocket and the sharp-edge, point of your key clenched firmly between your index and middle finger.

The time when every single footstep behind you in the almost-dark is a potential stalker slash murderer and the backstreet shortcut which is a faster walk seems to have somehow become more menacing.

The time when the cold numbs your hands when you are talking to your friend on the phone, holding it to your ear (sans gloves), simply so that they will know if anything happens to you. Or even when nobody is at the other end of the line.

The time when Tchaikovsky blocking out the world no longer seems like a good idea because then you won’t be able to hear the potential telling sounds around you. And Mozart is playing very silently in one, solitary earbud. Just one. Very quiety.

Oh the joys of winter.

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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

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p.s. I’m kidding mum.

How Ironic

I think it’s really funny how some people seem really surprised that I’ve suddenly begun to talk more about racial issues and such, not just on my blog but also in real life.

I’d just like to let everyone into a little secret: I’ve always been talking about this stuff.

It’s just that when I used to talk about it, I tried to keep my voice as quiet as possible so that nobody complains that they’re offended or that I’m a ‘racist intolerant’ or whatever else. But now, I’ve made a conscious choice to make my voice heard.

I also find it really funny how before, when I was content to quietly mumble about social injustices with my friends, there was never a reaction, but the instant that I find and use my VOICE and on my personal BLOG of all places (what am I thinking? How RUDE of me; my PERSONAL blog?!) people suddenly make a fuss about my opinions.

I bet if I was to post a blog complaining about the Instagram update and saying how unacceptable it was, people would comment things like, “This is so true! THERE IS SO MUCH INJUSTICE IN THE WORLD!!!!!” or “I’m so glad SOMEONE said something! I thought I was the only one!” or even “I actually think it’s alright.” Even if I was to post entirely in (probably very poor) Spanish, I guarantee people would still comment, “I couldn’t understand anything but this is so true!” Even my post about my somewhat controversial religious beliefs didn’t elicit the level of hate and disagreement that my racial post from Sunday did – both online and IRL. But when I post about racial issues people tell me, “You make this all up” and “You’re not even oppressed. Go live in a third world country and see what oppression REALLY is” and “Stop complaining! You’re not helping your own situation by fulfilling stereotypes!” (Which, may I just ask, stereotypes do I fulfil?)

Plus, oppression is relative. Just because I don’t live in a third-world country or somewhere where many women are openly treated as subordinates, doesn’t mean I am not still at a disadvantage in my own country. I’ve mentioned before, I’m a black female. I live in a Western Society, where the institutions cater for White Heterosexual Rich/Middle-Class Cishet Males before anybody else. This means that within my own native system, I am at a disadvantage. And I think people think of oppression and imagine slavery being reintroduced into society; but it’s a lot more than that. Oppression is about how prejudice and discrimination has become institutionalised and normalised to the point where a specific set of people are benefitting – and it just so happens that I am not a person who is actively benefitting from the system.

I mentioned in my #BodyPostivity and Letter to my 8-year old self post that I’m learning to love myself and that nobody can make me feel inferior without my permission. Which is very true. In the past couple of days, because of the reactions to real life and on-line situations, I’ve begun to doubt the validity of my voice and my opinions. But then I get slapped back into reality and realise, “Why am I letting bitter, ignorant people limit my voice?”

And I realise that, as much as I don’t like confrontation, some things have to be said. It has taken me SO long to climb out of the box that I was put in from Primary School, and I’m still on my self-love journey. I literally cannot believe that I would even consider taking any anonymous person;s comments to heart. I literally cannot believe that anyone would take time out of their day to read through a post, become offended by the literal truth and then decide to share their negativity  – to be honest, I love hearing from my fans. Especially the bitter ones. (Plus, I’m flattered you think me so significant!)

Anyway, let’s not dwell on negativity.

I had an exam yesterday, a written one for Drama. Which went really well. We had to sit two papers; a live theatre and a studied play script. For my playscript, we studied Henrik Ibsen’s ‘A Doll’s House’. If you HAVE read it or had to perform it then I feel sorry for you if you had to be Nora. If you haven’t, maybe do in your free time. It’s an interesting play definitely, but you have to take into consideration a lot of contextual factors. Interestingly, it touches upon issues of female subordination, to an extent, because – long story short – the play centres around a married couple, Nora and Torvald Helmer. They live in 19th century Norway, and Nora is literally treated like a child by her husband – a doll, in a sense of speaking, hence the title. It’s actually SO weird, he calls her all sorts of weird, dodgy pet names, and she loves it, but she’s quite manipulative.

To be honest, their marriage is just a disaster waiting to happen.

But in the end (SPOILER aha) she leaves him after a LOT of unnecessary and avoidable drama because she realises that she has become such a trophy wife and a pet to him that she doesn’t even know who she is herself. She says she wants to discover herself or whatever, so she leaves him with the children.

Great story.

But anyway. I have an exam next Tuesday for Spanish Listening, Reading and Writing which should be VERY interesting, seeing as I’m a lot worse at Spanish than I initially realised. I’m sitting in my study periods, and I’ve just spent about an hour practicing Spanish words and phrases and grammar etc. (Memrise is actually fantastic. It is keeping me going this year in Spanish, I swear!)

Because of the fact that my AS subjects have technically ended, I now have two mornings and two afternoons off from school, which is literally fantastic because it means I can go home earlier and I’M SO READY FOR SUMMER NOW.

PLEASE HURRY UP JULY!

Because they’ve changed the system and as of next year, AS-Levels will technically no longer be a thing, they’re introduced these new exams which are like UCAS Prediction exams, so that when we apply for University (next September, I think, we start) then you have the Predicted Grades from the ‘official’ University system, I suppose.

Which sucks because it means more unnecessary and stressful exams. But whatever.

I need to do some more Spanish.

Adiós.

Love the Faerie Squad Mother x

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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.

#ThanksBritishEducationSystem
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!)

Love
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.

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To 8-year-old Rianna

How the hell do I start this? Oops. Shouldn’t say hell, that’s probably a bad word right now. Uhm. Ignore that sentence.

Right now, we are 16. (Do I say we? Are we the same person or different individuals? Who knows?) We could have avoided so many problems right now if I’d have written this to you earlier. I just want to try to correct what should have been corrected about 8 years ago, but I was unable to tell you, being 8 and all, because I didn’t know the things I know now.

I know this won’t change anything but let’s pretend that this will. These are some really important things that you have to listen to, okay?

Firstly, please love yourself. Don’t let people trample all over you. Don’t let people bully you or tell you that you are worth any less than you have been taught to believe. It will take you many more years to learn to love yourself if you don’t right now, and you don’t need all the drama of self-acceptance and self-confidence. Really. You don’t. Understand that you matter, that you have a voice and that you can use it. Understand that nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.

Understand that you are beautiful. Just because your hair isn’t blonde and you don’t have freckles and your eyes aren’t blue, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t beautiful. You will learn later that the way you wanted to look was just society telling you how you should. But embrace the way you look. It doesn’t matter whether everyone else teases you for your hair and your butt and your height. You are a beautiful black girl and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And if they do, don’t believe them. They are taught to believe that you cannot be beautiful, but you can be, and you are.

Keep working hard. People will call you a nerd, and a geek and whatever other offensive words they can find to use. Don’t cry, they don’t matter, because in a few years when you are going to sit your exams and they are the ones asking you for help with revision, you will smile at the reversal of fortune. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re ‘too’ smart, that you’re ‘too’ intelligent, that you’re ‘too’ anything. You are just right. Put effort into the things that you do, and I promise you, it will pay off.

Stay strong in what you believe. It will take you a while to fully embrace and understand everything you believe, but make sure you believe it for yourself. Right now, some of what you believe is what you’ve been taught to. Understand everything for yourself, and don’t just let people tell you right and wrong; learn it for yourself. In about two years you will want to be baptised, and you will, with your best friend. Keep the enthusiasm you have for God, and don’t let anyone take it away from you. Don’t be ashamed of what you believe in. It will become harder to express your beliefs when you get older, but the more you do it and stand up for what you believe in, the better it will be.

Keep being sociable and friendly. Everywhere you go, you will make lots of friends and lots of acquaintances. The difficult thing is learning to differentiate between the two. Don’t just give your phone number out to everyone that you meet, because you will end up with lots of phone numbers of people you don’t even speak to anymore, and you’re too scared to delete their contacts. Also, you will get a smartphone one day. I won’t tell you when, that’s a surprise. But keep waiting in anticipation. Your waiting will one day pay off.

Act, dream, write, sing, dance, do the things that you’re good at. The more you do them now, the easier it will become for you to do them when you get to where I am. You won’t be able to do Street Dance, even though I know you really wanted to, but there are other things you can do. Keep up all your talents and hobbies. Keep drawing! Don’t stop because the moment you do is the moment you might lose your ability. Don’t rip up your drawings when you’re mad or when you’re upset. Don’t make hasty decisions when you’re mad or upset. Try and manage your emotions properly. Channel them. Talk to people, never, EVER bottle your emotions. It will only cause more damage and pain than you can begin to fathom. (I know you know what fathom means, don’t worry).

Don’t stop reading or dreaming. Sometimes they can be the same things. Keep reading, but PLEASE I beg you, stop reading Jacqueline Wilson. (I think you’ve probably grown out of her by now). Also, don’t read romances. They won’t get you anywhere and will fuel this entirely unrealistic romanticist nature in your teenage years. And don’t read manga either, no matter who tries to get you to. Read historical fiction. I have a hunch that you’ll really like reading about the Tudors, and Ancient Greece and Rome. Learn about the world around you. Learn about the past, and the present. Learn about your heritage, your culture, where you came from. Ask questions. Never stop dreaming.

What you can stop, however, is relying on your friends. The sooner you grow out of being a follower, the better. Your friends will try and make you do things that you don’t want to do. Sometimes, if you let them, they will succeed. But you have to be independent. You have to learn how to cope for yourself and make your own decisions. Sorry to disappoint you, but none of your ‘best friends’ from primary school will even talk to you by Year 11. The people you will find as your friends will surprise you. And popularity doesn’t matter. Friends aren’t about how many you have, or how popular they make you. Friends are about the people who are there for you time and time again.

You’ve probably got a huge crush on someone right now, I don’t know who, and it would probably make me laugh just remembering. But if you can (the key word here being ‘if’) just leave off boys for a couple years. Say… 52? Wait until you’re 60. That’ll probably make your life a lot easier. Obviously this is unrealistic, but just try and be patient. Not every boy that you like is going to be your future husband LOOOL. Don’t mistake liking the attention someone gives you for liking someone. Have expectations and standards. I mean, I know you’re only 8, but boys are barely all that and a bag of chips.

No matter what happens, no matter what you achieve or where you go, remember where you’ve come from. You will go on to do great things. You will change your life goals 4 times, probably even more, seeing as I haven’t quite settled yet. You will be a Queen and then an Empress, you will rule nations and empires, you will advocate for Black History Month and slowly evolve into a social justice warrior. (I know that doesn’t exist just yet, but I promise you, it’s as worthwhile as it sounds). You will experience things you have never experienced before, you will have your expectations reached and exceeded.

Believe in yourself. Trust that you can, and will, do amazing things.

And, one last thing, for your near-future: I’d appreciate if you could lay off the Disney please. The soundtracks take up an awful amount of phone (and mind) space, and they’re too catchy. Be into them, by all means, but don’t be such a die-hard fan.

Lots of love,

16-year-old You (aka. The Faerie Squad Mother) x

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Sudden Discontinuity

So I’m taking a break from this work. Just to update everyone who cares (i.e. no-one LOL) I’ve managed to do *turns to list next to my desk and counts*… SIX things on my list of homework! How fantastic. After my break I’m gonna smash this Spanish essay. Like, honestly, it’s not staying on my list any longer; it’s taunting me, I swear. Then I’m gonna force my sister to help me learn my lines.

So I went a bit OTT on my History homework. The task was to create a table with 3 columns – Positive Characters of Henry VIII, Negative Characters of Henry VIII and Other Information. Instead, I created an A3 poster, folded it in half, wrote with that beautifully-stylized Old English writing and added pictures.

With my Sharpies.

Seriously, once the Sharpies come out on a project, it’s going DOWN. (I’m yelling Timber… I’m sorry, I saw an opportunity and I took it). Once I’ve got my Sharpies out, I don’t mess. They’re so important to me, like if I use Sharpies on a piece of paper, or on a project, then that piece of paper slash project should be HONOURED that I would grace its face with my colourful Sharpies.

Enough about the Sharpies. I’m filled with this need to talk about the Tudors, so that’s what I’m going to do today.

On my sister’s Snapchat story the other day, I posted about 300 seconds (if not more) worth of videos, of me telling the stories of Henry VIII’s wives. Honestly, I would do it again, but I feel like it’s more educational and beneficial if you SEE if, rather than if you READ it. (And don’t worry Lawly, I’m pretty sure Teyah saved them all on her phone, so we’ll show you next week.)

But I think that, in a manner of helping me to ‘revise’, I’ll go through the reigns of the monarchs from Plantagenet England with Edward IV to Tudor England with Elizabeth I and hope that I’m getting it right. Obviously this is going to be the most summarised paraphrasing of their lives ever; please don’t hate on me if you’re a history scholar. If I’m wrong, definitely correct me LOL. Let’s go.

OKAY SO FIRST we have this awesome King called Edward IV. (That’s fourth, for all of you who can’t read Roman Numerals). Edward is a Yorkist King. (Remember that, that’s important). Edward is also a ladies man. (Lemme hear you say ‘ooooooh!’) So, for some reason or another, he comes across this woman called Elizabeth Woodville and is all like ‘DAYYYUUMMM, I just GOT to have her.’ So he marries her in secret. Just one problem; Elizabeth is a Lancastrian. (Lemme hear you say ‘oh no!’) This means that technically, she is Edward’s enemy. Anyway, obviously people at court don’t like her, but Elizabeth doesn’t really give a monkey’s because she’s married to the KING OF ENGLAND for goodness sake, like who would CARE what the haters say? She has loads of kids for him (three of them being Elizabeth of York, Edward V and Richard) and then after lots of drama of passing the crown back and forward between Edward IV and Henry VI, Henry VI is killed. Yay, Edward is King happily ever after! And then Edward dies. Oh no, who will have the crown now?! Basically, his brother, Richard III is supposed to crown Edward IV’s son, Edward V. But the boys, Edward and Richard disappear into the tower, never come out and then Richard’s like “Oh, no what a dying SHAME that there are no longer any heirs. Now I have to be King, oh NO what a COINCIDENCE.” So then Richard III crowns himself. But Elizabeth Woodville, Edward IV’s widow is very mad, because she doesn’t want Rich to be the King. So she’s all like “Nuh-uh, Rich. I don’t think so. Over my dead body.” But then she dies.

Nah I’m just joking, she betrothes her daughter, Elizabeth of York, to the Lancastrian boy Henry Tudor. (Later known as Henry VII). And after lots of plotting and scheming, and failed battles etc. Henry Tudor lands in England with a force and defeats Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth, becoming King Henry VII of England.

So Elizabeth Woodville is happy now, because she never like Rich in the first place and her daughter is on the throne. OR IS SHE? Because it takes Henry a whole year to have Elizabeth’s coronation, which is a bit cheeky really, because Elizabeth has a stronger claim to the throne than Henry. Anyways, Henry and Elizabeth’s marriage theoretically ends the York vs. Lancaster regime, and they become the TUDORS. ‘Duh duh duh.’ So Elizabeth has four kids, Arthur, Margaret, Henry and Mary. Arthur is being trained to be King and everyone’s like to him, “Art. You’re gonna be a SIC King. As in the good sic.” So he’s all like “Yeah, I is SOOO ready for dis.” So he even marries Katharine of Aragon the Spanish Princess, in prep for his life as King. But then he dies 6 months after they’re married.

And then everyone’s like to the next son, Henry, “Now, Hal, this is a bit awks but… your bro’s dead so we’re gonna need you to be King.” And Henry’s like “SIC!” (as in the good sic) because he’s never really wanted to join the church anyway. But he’s not exactly trained for being King and stuff so he’s a bit awks. And then when eventually his dad Henry VII dies in 1509, Henry is crowned King Henry VIII and he marries Katharine of Aragon (which is a bit awks, because she was his dead brother’s wife) and then they rule together happily.

6 wives and 3 (legitimate) children later, Henry VIII dies. (Lemme hear you say ‘awwwww!’) And his last surviving wife marries his third ex-wife’s brother, (someone call Jeremy Kyle, man, Henry VIII’s love life was a MESS) and then everyone’s like “Ayyy, at least Hazza had a son!” This son is Edward VI. (Yes, another Ed). But Ed is a SIC King. (Not the good sic, this time, he actually is VERY sic; sic like YAKKING IT UP BIG TIME). I guess you could even call him, Edward the SICth. (I’m sorry, that was so terrible, but I took the chance again!) Eventually, before even marrying anyone, Ed dies.

But not before his advisors, name his cousin, Jane Grey, as his heir. Simply because she’s Protestant and the REAL next-in-line, Mary, is Catholic, the advisors don’t want the country turning back Catholic, not after all the changes that Henry VIII made. So Ed dies, Jane Grey is crowned Queen… and then Mary’s like “Uh-uh, I don’t think so Janey-girl; over my dead body.” And then she has Jane executed and is crowned Queen Mary I.

Mary marries Philip of Spain, who is a bit mean, really, but they’re both staunchly Catholic and basically persecute Protestants by burning them at the stake. So people are really scared of them. And all the while, Elizabeth (sneaky Liz) she’s just biding her time, waiting for Mary to die. And eventually, she does. Mary dies heartbroken, childless and heirless. So now Elizabeth is Queen Elizabeth I of England.

And then Liz steps up and she’s all like “Yo yo yo everybody, I is yo Queen now, I ain’t bout dat ‘burning at da stake’ lyf, so you’s will all be fine as long as you just don’t fight me for the crown AYYYY is we good?!” So everyone’s like “Yeah, sounds good to us.” And she sticks to her word. She doesn’t burn people at the stake for her beliefs, though she turns the country back Protestant. Some bitter Catholics try killing her but she’s like, “Nah, I ain’t having this STILL. I didn’t fight for my crown so you’s lot can come and try killing me, NAHHH fam.” She never gets married, never has kids and overall is a pretty good Queen.

And then she dies. And with her death, the line of Tudors is forever…

GONE.

*Curtains down* *Audience applause* *Throws roses onto stage* *Standing ovation*

*Empress bows and wipes a solitary tear from her eye*

Empress Rianna

Crown

p.s. I hope that was both entertaining and educational for all you guys. 🙂 I wasn’t quite sure how to end this though, so I went with the more dramatic approach.

Hypothesising

*Gasps* What a surprise that Rianna has blogged two days in a row! (This is mainly for Lawly’s benefit… if I don’t stick to my word, I’ll never hear the end of it. She’s got blackmail material too LOL)

Anyways. This will be a ramble, I suppose, seeing as I don’t have anything specific to talk about. I was GOING to talk about why I should be voted Prime Minister, but I think that’s a post for another time. Also, I feel like I shouldn’t rant because this has been a good day so far! So maybe I’ll just talk about my plans for this week? Let’s do it.

My Plans for Half-Term Holiday:

  1. Complete all homework.
  2. (NB: Number 2 is only accessible if Number 1 has been completed in it’s entirety) Complete all optional homework.
  3. (NB: Number 3 is only accessible if both Number 1 and Number 2 have been completed in their entirety) Maybe have some free time and relax. MAYBE.

Mostly working basically. Not working, like MONEY working. Working like school and Sixth Form working. And blogging when I have time. (Such a privilege, but JUST for you Lawly 🙂 ) If you’d just like to get a taste of my homework schedule for this week:

DRAMA

  • Write essay on Live Theatre performance (A4 double-sided).
  • Complete character profiling and prep for Krogstad and Nora.

HISTORY

  • Complete sheet on the Cultural effect on Democracy and the Weimar Republic. (A4 sheet).
  • Complete three-sided A3 sheet on Henry VIII coming to the throne.

SPANISH

  • Write essay on film and ratings.
  • Complete 7 grammar sheets, in addition to the three sheets started in lesson with Perfect and Pluperfect tenses.
  • Finish overdue homework on writing advice in response to a health disorder.

ENGLISH LITERATURE

  • Do Poetry Comparison sheet (A3 sheet).
  • Complete detailed prep on ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ in Chapter 13 and ‘Household’ exploration, as well as 6 detailed PEE paragraphs on the Ceremony in Chapters 15 and 16.
  • Continue Reading Journal.
  • Optional: Poetry comparison paragraph.

AOB

  • Learn script for school play.

MY LIFE IS A JOKE. MY LIFE IS AN ACTUAL JOKE. Who gets that much work for a WEEK’S HOLIDAY!? My teachers genuinely hate me.

Love from your entirely sane,

Empress Rianna

Crown

Acute Observations

I’m not wearing my glasses as I type this – I don’t even know what I’ve done with them, they’re somewhere in my room – so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors.

I really don’t have anything to talk about today. I could have a semi-conscious ramble about something (I just woke up from quite a nice nap?) but I don’t have anything to ramble about. So I’m gonna… uhm… make it up? Like I usually do.

Today after school, Steph and I were running the Year 7 and 8’s Drama Club. As Sixth Formers (Ha! We are so cool!) my drama teacher had entrusted us with the special task of running it by ourselves. She usually runs it and we assist but today she couldn’t be there; so it was just us.

We didn’t have a plan.

Our plan was to wing it. My role is mostly to sound like I know what I’m doing; Steph’s role is to get everyone to like us, which I think she does a pretty good job of. Whereas I’m quite good at putting on the front of knowing what I’m talking about. Even though I never do.

Anyway. Our plan was to make it up as we went along. Our teacher had given us a booklet to work from but neither of us had read through it, so we were sorta like, “Ah stuff it, we’ll work from scratch.” She’d also asked us to pick out some particularly promising students to be involved with the school play; so there we were, wondering, “How on earth will we do that if we don’t even know what we’re going to do?” Dezza, Babs and Venus all slunk into the Drama studio behind us, anxious to watch what we were going to do. It kinda goes without saying, I suppose, that even Steph and I were anxious to watch what we were going to do. Because we literally had NO idea.

“Hi guys.” I told the bunch of wide-eyed Year 7 and 8 students, innocently sitting in a circle on the floor of the Drama studio. All whilst munching on an apple. I was LITERALLY munching on an apple whilst talking to them. “Today, it’s just me and Steph running the club. So it should be fun.” They tittered amongst themselves – honestly, I can’t STAND tittering – so I said, “Remember what we said last week. The more you want to get done, the less you need to talk. The more talking you guys do, the less fun we have.” And they all looked sorta terrified but satisfyingly pacified by my words. So I was happy. (I found my glasses by the way; I can’t bear to type any longer without them…)

“Today,” my words were unsure, my brain racing ahead of my mouth (for once), “we are going to do some Improvisation.” And then I felt like I’d hit upon a gold mine. The amount of improvisation games we played in Drama throughout my 6 years of the subject were LIMITLESS! Also, this would be a fantastic way to see who held most promise; improvisation is always fun – and can be funny, when done properly – because you just sort of through everyone into the deep end and see how well they fare. Let’s go along with this, I told myself, as I noticed Dezza’s face light up with amusement. I knew she’d be a great help to me – which she later proved to be. “Who knows what improv is?” I asked the eager young ‘uns, and their hands shot up into the air. I gave a short explanation before telling them that the ENTIRE club (I was working from my mind here, okay, let’s not hate!) today was going to be based around improvisation. They seemed content and blissfully unaware that I was just planning the whole thing on the spot.

“Let’s get to our feet and move around then guys.” So they followed my instructions while I anxiously and frantically racked my brain for a game to play to warm up. Then I glanced upon one that I had used in my AS Drama lesson two weeks ago and I was like YES FANTASTIC. So we did that for about ten minutes, which gave me enough time to figure out the activities for the ACTUAL club.

And Dezza became a useful aide. She rushed to my side to remind me about all those amazing games we played with improv; the park bench game, where you try and get the person on the bench OFF of it, and the game where you just make up random scenarios and characters and switch people in and out of the game.

The Park Bench game was good for a while, but the students quickly got bored, so we switched into the other game; the ‘Scene’ one.

That lasted LITERALLY about half an hour.

It was half an hour of PURE, unadulterated BANTER.

With Tey, Dezza, Babs and Venus as the assisting audience, we actually cried. The Year 7 and 8’s improvisation was actually so fantastic that some of them deserved medals… and others deserved Oscars.

For that half an hour, we laughed, we cried, we sympathised, we gasped; any possible emotional reaction you can imagine, those students evoked within us. Honestly, my stomach hurts so much. (Well, PARTIALLY because of their performances but…)

So, we imagined quite a few scenarios, but I think I shall list my favourite and most memorable ones:

  • A couple being counseled – In which the ‘counselor’ informed the couple that they need to “sort their issues out”, I was unsure if she remembered what her purpose was? Also, there was some innuendo banter going on and I was a bit surprised, for a bunch of 11 and 12 year-olds that they were even thinking of that!
  • A doctor giving some sad news to a family – In which she told the mother not to ‘get tears on the carpet’ and that they needed to ‘pull themselves together’
  • A teenager telling her parents that she was pregnant – I’m pretty sure we all expected something very dramatic, but instead we got something very deadpan, making it quite comedic “Mum. I’m pregnant.” And then later, when she was asked who the father was, she LITERALLY deadpanned again, “I have no idea.”

Of course, we had our favourite students and we thought a select few were absolutely fantastic; I tried to put them in a lot of the scenes, but obviously, I couldn’t look like I was favouring any over the others. But it was amazing. Then at the end, I put them into groups of 3 (intentionally, to see how well they worked in groups other than their friendships one; like, some were SO clingy, oh my goodness! I mean, I know they’re Year 7’s and 8’s but COME ON!) and gave them this instruction:

“You are going to create for me a 1-minute scene, where you have a mother, a daughter and a doctor. Go.”

They had five minutes.

After which, we watched all 6 performances, and I was almost rolling on the floor with laughter. (At some of them; honestly, it was slightly scary, quite frankly, what some of them produced. One performance was particularly morbid and I had to stop it before they kept going because it was just… WHOA.) But they were definitely laugh-worthy mostly, and I couldn’t stifle most of the laughter inside of me, as a result of their performances.

Honestly. If I could, I’d nominate them for Oscars. Clearly, Hollywood is looking in the wrong place.

You’ve got it all wrong, Hollywood. You need to be looking in West London for your next big stars, cos they’re right here.

Anyway, I think that’s enough from me.

Love to Squad and Lawly (look, a specific mention!) and I’m off guys.

Love Empress Rianna

Crown

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

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The Empress Lives

Good evening/good morning/good afternoon everybody. I have been M.I.A for nearly three-thousand, four hundred and eighty two years now; for which I offer my most sincerest apologies. (If anyone even cares LOL)

I miss this blog. It’s almost like I haven’t had time to blog… oh wait. I HAVEN’T. Because of all this lovely homework that we’re getting now because we’re ‘so responsible’ and ‘hardworking’ and ‘should be given an opportunity to prove this’. Like, PSH. No thanks. I’d rather get the same amount of work as last year.

Ah well. Anyway, I’m buckling down. You can tell because I haven’t been able to post for 3,482 years (The aforementioned figure) and so I am going to have a quick ramble just now to remind everything that I still live and reign. I don’t have anything particularly scintillating to talk about today; we went back to the care home with NCS but that’s another story for another day (LITERALLY, I need to rant about that, but not now, because it’s SO late and I should be in bed… I’m not going to be able to wake up tomorrow morning).

Squad is mostly sleeping (which is ANOTHER story; school is tearing my crew apart!), MARBY IS REAL (literally only two people will understand that reference… if you think you understand it then you’re WRONG. You really don’t) and I don’t know why I’m still awake – but I’ve just finished off my English homework. Which isn’t fantastic, but hey ho. Clearly I have my priorities sorted.

Anyway, like I said, this is a quick ramble. I’m not even in my pyjamas yet (how shameful of me!) and my back aches. But I have three beautifully typed and printed pages of my reading journal for ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ by Margaret Atwood; which is an absolutely TERRIFYING and SHOCKING and generally weird book! (Wow, that makes THREE posts I’m going to have to do at SOME POINT). I was nominated for a blogger’s award SOOO long ago now, and I STILL haven’t done it. In fact, for the past month, I’ve done very little except school work, homework, and then more school work.

So, catch up of events at school: I’m in the School play – It’s ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ this year, and I’m Benedick. (Benedick? Benedict? Who even knows? Can someone ask Shakesy?) Squad is slowly being segregated based on our options, and seeing as everyone apart from myself, Susanna and Babs are Science and Maths students… well, you can probably guess it. We’re being separated. However, the PE Office, (formerly known as the PE Office and NOW known as the A6FCR – Alternative Sixth Form Common Room) is being taken over by Squad at the end of the day. Last week on Friday, I did a Whitney song, whilst spinning around on the spinny chair and singing into the head of a screaming Minion toy from McDonalds. (I would feel so terribly ashamed if any teachers from school read this post, excluding Banksy and Lawly of course, but to be fair, Banksy should feel terribly ashamed for even having a minion toy in the first place…)

My sixth form is mixed (even though I attend a girl’s school) but we have like four boys in our consortium classes. There’s one in my English and three in my Spanish class. They’re nice enough. For boys, that is. Not that I have anything against boys but… they’re boys. Need I say much more?

I do Consortium at another school, where one of my NCS besties goes, which is great because it means I can hang out with her and her friends for like 7+ hours a week. (To be honest, she probably hates me LMAO but she’ll get used to it) And her friends seem to like me, which is a bonus too. I have some #BanterBuddies in Drama (the subject I do Consortium) so I obviously get a lot of work done, because we’re all very motivated to do it all. And I’m very proud of my productivity in Drama actually!

ALSO my cousin came down from Bristol on Friday, which was great, and even though we didn’t have THAT much time this weekend, we actually did so much chilling it was fun LMAO. We caught up and it was great and now I feel caught up. (That was very repetitive but it’s *checks computer time* 11:22pm so I don’t really care right now)

ALSOOOOO I very much miss my old English teacher and I also miss having Lawly as a form tutor. I’m also sad that I have lots of History homework to do, though it’s mostly based around the Tudor’s so it’s not TOO bad.

But I have done SO little reading and just had so LITTLE free time in general since we started back at Sixth Form; which I did NOT think was going to be the case. There are so many folders I have to carry, one for each lesson, and with FILE DIVIDERS because we have more than one teacher for each subject… but at least my handbag is really cute and sturdy at the same time.

This was supposed to be a quick ramble – how did it turn into nearly 1000 words?

Anyways, I need to get to bed. Love you all, long live the Empress blah blah…

Empress Rianna

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