I'm The Lucky One.

I am ungrateful. And if you are reading this then I bet you are to. (Sometimes)

Every day I wake up and squander another day, and millions of people didn't even get to see the morning, someone I know has a friend that has been given the weekend to live. Chances are as I am typing this he could very well be taking his last breath.

All over the world people are dying and all I am concerned with is seeing a film at the cinema or buying the new Stooshe album, now don’t get me wrong I'm not saying I shouldn't do the little things I enjoy and I'm not saying people should constantly only think in terms like this, but I think it is so important that you remember there are much bigger things in life, so next time you are annoyed at your parents that they didn't do that thing you asked them or get that think you wanted, or maybe next time you pass a homeless person in the street, would it really hurt you to give a pound or two or even if you have it to spare £5, because really in the big picture that won’t affect your life to give but it will help them so much.

Maybe just every once in a while just think how good you have it, like really you and I are so, so lucky that we have somewhere warm at night to lay our head and we have people that love us.  We are lucky we have the choice at an education and we are so lucky that we open our eyes today because not everyone will be that lucky.

Saying life is short is a cliché so I won’t say that. but I will say that each day you live is important so don’t squander it. I will try to do the same.

“Just tell yourself, Duckie, you're real quite lucky.” ― Dr. Seuss

The Horse (Creative Writing Story)

Well, well, well so we meet again. just kidding I don’t want to meet you, that’s why I'm writing this blog so you can feel like you’re spending time with me, but without me having to have your disgusting face anywhere near me.

So anyway I was reading a book (with actual pages  you have to turn and everything. old school I know) and I saw some creative writing sentence starters, (if you don’t know what that is, then look it up I don’t have time to explain everything to you. I'm not fucking Google).

The sentence starter was: The horse was lame and bleeding all on the right side…

In the book, one condition of the sentence starters was time yourself and after ten minutes you need to finish up and put your pencils down.

And this is what I wrote

The horse was lame and bleeding all on the right side… I wanted to change the channel but there was nothing else on, it was this or “the hoobs” I should have really gone to sleep but now I was hooked. How will animal cops Houston save this horse?

Its 3am and I have to be up at 6am, for my first day on the road to becoming a Pokémon master… nah I’m just kidding I have to be up at 6am because we are moving to Russia, Moscow to be more precise. I don’t really want to go but since my dad’s job let him go, we have to move in with my nana. Which would be bad enough, but on top of it all I have to start all over again with my whole life. Which if you had asked me last month it would have been fine. But this month everything changed, I will tell you later what happened, but for now I am going to sleep. They saved the horse by the way.

That is what I wrote in ten minutes and I don’t know if I should continue, so if you like it let me know, by either writing a comment on this blog, my Facebook page (for my blog) or tweet me. And if you don’t want me to carry on then, just stay silent I guess.

Ok, well Toodles.

Lazy day song (Cautionary tale)

This song I have written is a cautionary tale, to all the young adults that are going to leave school or college with no plan, this will be your life.

Lazy day song

You wake up each morning quite promptly at eleven; roll over back to sleep for another hour... Or seven.

When you do get up it’s a rather classy affair. Check your nose, wash your face, brush your teeth and your hair. Walk a few steps and sit down and unwind, a day like this can be stressful mind.

Get your laptop or your phone whatever is near. Hash-tag and tweet a few things, while you’re at it remind everyone your still here.

As you mindlessly scroll, click and Google away a valuable way to waste your day. You sit and stuff yourself with a snack or two wondering why good things don't come to you

But as hours go by in front of the Tele you silently justify you’re just a little smelly,

When it gets late and the day is done all the things you had planned pushed one day along.

And that is the end of my lazy day song.

More of a poem but still...

(This is not a poem/song about me. Really it’s not, no seriously. Just kidding yes it is.)

Creative Writing Experience (not dedicated to Niamh)

Ok. so before I write this post I think I need to clarify, that the last post dedicated to Lisa was dedicated to her because she helped my with my confidence and self-esteem issues. Not because she is dead.

Anyway this post is about creative writing, but before I share my creative writing story I need to give some background to how this came about, Well I have been working with a woman (not Lisa a different woman) who is trying to get me back in to the community and make some friends to overcome the social anxiety issues I have, and one thing I asked her to help me find was a creative writing club/class so I could get better at writing and perhaps with better skills find a job writing later down the line, one of the creative writing classes she found was only on the other side of town, and from the look of the website it looked really promising but as I got there and was waiting for it to start my anxiety was increasing so the woman who helped find the class (let’s call her sue) said that maybe we should go inside and see what the room is like and maybe the guy running it will be there early and I could talk to him and that might calm my nerves.

 But when I walked in, it was a freezing cold and really dark in this room with no sign of anyone in sight and with this thing supposed to be starting in just over 5 minutes it didn't really help my anxiety, but after a minute or so a woman came through the other entrance of the building trying to drag a table in the room, as she sees us she introduces herself and we explain who we are, now this woman must have been by my estimations must have been at least 60, and I knew with this type of course I was going to be the youngest one in the room but it never really clicked until that moment that it was going to be an age gap that drastic anyway after all the introductions and a run though on how the group works, and a few shocked looks about  how I said I don’t drink tea or coffee, but then as the group was introduced to the activity we had a bag of hats passed round the room and listen to the group leader read a poem about changing hats that I don’t really feel like I understood but I feel like I got the general tone (a bit like a human talking to a dog) then with the hats we were given we had to create a character and write a monologue then read it aloud and this is what I came up with in 10 minutes 

Originality these days barely exists, I start to ponder as I stand in the back of a dusty charity shop look at jackets and hats that are probably older then I am.

I take off my own black hat and place it at my feet, while I put on a top hat with no top why would anyone donate this ? I take a sneaky picture and put in on Twitter and then keep looking, trying to find something no one else has, so I can stand out among the mindless sheep of today but doing this I start to hate myself slightly who do I think I am to be better than anyone else?

I put my hat back on and began to leave when I notice some hideous fringe vest and instantly I think that’s for me. I try it on and I hate it, I mean seriously hate it I couldn't hate an inanimate object more than I did this one but I have to have it no one else will so that makes it good right?

The story is pretty short but at the time and in my giant childlike hand writing it filled an A4 page so yeah

The End.

Oh yeah and my sister said that I should dedicate this post to some girl named Niamh who reads my blog, but Niamh if you’re reading this then I would like to say that this is not dedicated to you. Because you don’t like my blog fan page on Facebook (which only has like five likes which is pretty sad) so like my page and I will like you. 

The Real End.

I Want To Be Remembered (this post is dedicated to lisa)

Ok I haven’t written in a while mostly because I have been busy starting videos on YouTube but I haven’t forgotten about my blog I have just had only sort of half-baked ideas and I started writing them but never knew how to finish and it felt quite forced and none of my other post felt like that so I wanted to wait until I had an idea that felt natural like my others. And here it is

Lately I have grown and changed a lot probably just in the last 4 months, and it has only hit me now how much I have grown and learned about myself, and one thing I have learned and accepted is my fears and insecurities and it’s so crazy for the first time in my whole life I genuinely don’t hate myself like seriously. I used to hate who I was so much. And now I am so unbelievably positive it’s ridiculous.

But, among all this thinking and acceptance, I was thinking about life and not just mine but living in general and people stories and baggage and also how people can have these entire lives and then just die and they are eventually forgotten like they will be remembered by a few close people they effect but after they have gone then that is it just completely gone all their memories all their dreams hopes fears and their impact to the world (unless they have had a huge contribution to the world like a famous person*) is gone and life goes on and things keep changing and I was thinking that that has happened for millions of years and doesn’t it make life seem kind of small and insignificant and all your problems kind of pointless as well.

Anyway just thought I would drop this depressing post on you and then leave you sad, and hoping that I will have some happy final sentence to leave you with and to change your mood all around … but nope that is all.

Toodles

Bridie

*when I say famous I don’t just mean celebrity I mean like and inventor, writer, politician. anything that would make you like a household name

The Bridie Song

I wish I had a song with my name in.

 There are so many songs out with girl’s names in, why can’t someone write one about me I'm sure loads of things rhyme with Bridie…. None come to mind right now but I'm not a songwriter (so I will let a highly skilled songwriter work on it like one of the geniuses at Eurovision)

Anyway I am not going to attempt to write my own song on here as you may have already guessed. but I am going to edit a few well known songs to see what it would be like to have a song, and if someone is inspired to write a song for me then that would be a bonus. (Hint, hint)

1.      Mandy- Barry Manilow

Well you came and you gave without taking

And I sent you away, oh bridie

And you kissed me and stopped me from shaking

And I need you today, oh Bridie

2.      Jolene- Dolly Parton

Bridie, Bridie, Bridie, Bridie

Im begging of you please don't take my man

Bridie, Bridie, Bridie, Bridie

Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you, Bridie

3.      Billie Jean-Michael Jackson

Bridie Jean Is Not My Lover

She's Just A Girl Who Claims That I Am The One

But The Kid Is Not My Son

She Says I Am The One, But The Kid Is Not My Son

4.      Ruby - the Kaiser Chiefs

Bridie, Bridie, Bridie, Bridie

And do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya

Know what ya doing, doing to me?

Bridie, Bridie, Bridie, Bridie

5.      Valerie - Amy Winehouse

Since I've come on home,

Well my body's been a mess

And I've missed your ginger hair

And the way you like to dress

Won't you come on over

Stop making a fool out of me

Why don't you come on over Bridie?

Bridie [x3]

Some of these songs work quite well and I feel are improved with my name in, also Jolene and Valerie talk about gingers so I will count it that they are about me secretly

Ok so just after I finished writing this post I decided to Google check to see if I did have a song with my name in (should have probably done that before hand) anyway turns out there is a song (making this entire post pointless. Nice one Bridie)

Anyway here is the link (I don’t like the song very much, but if they want to write a song about me and name there group after me who am I to criticize)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNlHfi8XZoY

First Post Of 2013: The Zipwire Story

It’s just like me to miss two great blogging opportunities, I missed Christmas and I missed New Year. A time when people are driven crazy by their family, friends and the annoying TV repeats so they turn to the internet, which would have been a chance but I was in a Christmas coma induced by multiple sweet tins, turkey and presents.

If you were wondering what I got for Christmas then wonder no longer I got

1.       Cougar Town - Season 1 [DVD]

2.       How I Met Your Mother - Season 7 [DVD]

3.       Modern Family - Season 3 [DVD]

4.       Bad - 25th Anniversary Deluxe [3 CD/1 DVD]

5.       Diff’rent Strokes Season 4 [DVD]

Anyway on with the first blog post of 2013!

 

So I am going to try to rewrite from memory something I wrote in year 7 English. 

I didn’t want to do it.

I knew it was a bad Idea from the second we got off the coach that morning, but there I was after a whole morning to panic at the thought, I was stuck in a line I didn’t want to be in. taking steps towards what I didn’t know at the time but was about to be one of the worst memories of my childhood. I begged not to do it but my pleas fell on deaf ears and I was patronised and guilt tripped  into complying so there I stood close to tears but holding them back in front of my friends then before I knew it I was up there I was the front  watched by the people who had gone before me. Click. I was strapped in my harness and definitely not ready to jump, I was pushed.

I don’t remember much of the actual zip wire riding experience. probably because what happened next tainted that memory. the next thing I remember it was over I was at the end of the line still hooked up, but at that point at least for a spilt second I felt relief and a small sense of accomplishment but that changed extremely quickly.

(That was all I wrote in year seven but now I'm nearly nineteen I have procrastinated enough I think I will take a crack at finishing the story, and even anyone wants to contact miss hall and tell her I have finished this English homework and refer her to my blog I would be grateful.)

I looked down (huge mistake) I saw one boy from my class shouting up to me to release and come down, I couldn’t the harness was jammed I was stuck (I didn’t find out until later that my harness hadn’t been put on properly in the first place)  but right there in that moment knowing I was stuck and feeling helpless in panic my hands slipped from the hope so I was there dangling from the waist by an improperly fastened harness feeling like a turtle on it shell, after what felt like an eternity the instructor had to get a giant ladder and fix my harness and help me down, all I could hear is laughter from the ground below from the classmates I thought were my friends.

At least at this point only half the class knew, the other half would be informed the next day by my complete ass hat of a year six teacher (Mrs Burgan) who to this day I despise she sat everyone one down on the carpet and told the whole class the incident as I sat there with the class staring at me trying to cover their laughs. Its moment likes that have seriously scarred my self confidence that only now I have started to build back up again but hopefully writing this I can move on because I used to hide from the embarrassing points in my life but now I just except them for what they are and move on so this is me moving on and not caring.

P.S I still hate you Mrs Burgan