Back to craziness, and my 100th post

So life is getting busy already. The lectures this year are a lot harder to get a grasp of. So for now, its just slogging along. Unfortunately, I think it means that there may be no NaNo for me this year. No way am I going to able to keep up with uni if I'm distractied with trying to write a novel. But something has given me an idea. One of the girls I follow on YouTube is currently having a go at Vlogtober. Now thats a totally cool idea, but I don't have a vlog. No matter, though, because I have a blog instead. :) I might have a go in November (though it won't be vlogtober anymore, but hey). I figure it'll be slightly more possible than novel-writing will be. My only issue will be the days where I'm without internet, which is likely to be kind of frequent with all the remembrance/OTC stuff and National Youth Pipe Band of Scotland stuff going on in November, but I'm sure I'll manage.
That reminds me, the Youth Band have two major concerts coming up. If any of you are up in Aberdeen on the 24th November, or in Glasgow on the 30th, think about coming along, especially if you are into the scottish music scene. (Click on the cities for links to information about each concert.) Hope to see some of you there.


On a totally different track, this is my 100th post. Calls for a poem, I think.
One of my long-missing poems that have been recovered from my revived Webook account. :) The upside of going back a year later is that it gives you the perspective to edit properly.

A Peek Inside the Wandering Mind of a Girl in Physics Class

Gentle, damp

A Calm Lake in the eternal expanse of the thoughts.

White sun on blue sky,

If it could indeed be called that.

A breeze fighting with lightning past the horizon

I could roll my eyes at.

Colours everywhere.

Lilies on the lake edge,

Grape vines on pine trees,

Beds of unstinging nettles underfoot.

Birds!

Big, small

blue, yellow, red

Shooting around.

Wings resembling my own,

and the angels above

and the fallen in the lake below.

A rainbow thrown between fingertips,

Joining every presence.

Colour.

Beauty.

Guess what I just found!

Ok, so I don't know if I ever mentioned it, but I remember being absolutely devastated when I one day found I couldn't log into Webook (an online site where writers can post their work and gain feedback, or just have a place they can store and have easy access to it while away from their home computer). I can't remember exactly when it was, but it was more than a year ago.
The site had just gone down, no warning, nothing, and was still down when I checked frequently throughout NaNo (well, I had loads of ideas on there that I could have used). Since the site was essentially my back-up for some of my poems, and the only home of a lot of my just-for-fun writing (like my poetry, an unfinished fantasy/sci-fi novel which I don't plan for anyone to ever read - I had only reached chapter 17 when the site went down; an idea for a plot, and various other projects I was working on with other writers on the site) a lot of my stuff seemed to just disappear off the face of the planet. I was devastated.

Anyway, the point of that backstory was, while I was surfing Grooveshark trying to find some new music to refresh my novel-writing playlist in time for NaNo, and put together a studying playlist, I randomly thought, for the first time since the crash to have a look to see what had happened to the site. What I found was surprising - not only was the webook blog back up, with new owners, admin, and an explanation for why the site had gone down (the old owners ran out of cash and pulled the plug), but the whole site was back up!

I was wary at first because the blog had mentioned signing up. But chrome automatically put in my username, so I had hope. Adding my password, I scrolled down the page to find all my projects, posts, reviews, friends and groups were ALL THERE!!!

I can't explain how happy I am to have all my old writing back.

I might start uploading last years NaNo a chapter at a time as I continue to sort out the obvious issues and fill in the gaps in the last few chapters (well, I know what happens - its note down in my storyboard, I just never actually wrote it yet. In the fast-paced way of NaNo, if I get stuck, I just skip little bits and come back later, but towards the end, I just didn't come back to fix it.) Otherwise, I'm going to get to putting a back-up of all the stuff that was previously lost into my external hard-drive and maybe a couple of pen-drives.
(wow, my old novel seems really childish, but hey, its fun-writing. Its meant to be fun -don't judge)

Which reminds me, I might make a page here for NaNo this year if I decide to go ahead. I figure if I put my writing up here, I have to be held responsible to actually write, and if I put it on a separate page, its out of the way and doesn't get mixed up with my other writing. Plus, it gives me a back-up without scrivener taking a hissy-fit at me for trying to save in more than one place (since, I'll probably write in scrivener and copy-paste into here, unless I feel like writing on my ipad, where things'll happen the other way around)

For now, I'm off to surf around webook and see whats been going on while I was away. Bye, guys

Ooh, 999 page views!

In my glass: jasmine green tea
From my iPod: Thanig an Gille Dubh (a lovely Gaelic song from a cd I got at the NCETM)
From my bookshelf: Anatomy
Outside: dark
My mood: good
Today's hairstyle: nautilus, followed by knot-pony, followed by English braid
I know what youre thinking: two posts so soon? Well, in celebration of my nearing 1000 views, and of finally becoming a "Guru" over on the LHC after more than two years, I have one of my own poems for you. But first, a couple of things..
For those of you LHC-ers (you know who you are) out there, whether you've been following me, or simply clicked on my siggy-link, I wish to ask a question: what do you think my new custom user title should be? (For those of you who are newer to the forum, or not on at all, those who reach the required post-count and also spend more than 365 days on the forum can change the section that says "member" under their username). If you have any ideas the either post them down below or send me a little PM on the boards (name is tigereye over there too)
Second of all, an update on me: so its the middle of exam time, and I have merely four days until they are all over. Yes, I'm stressing, but after the horrific year I've had this one, I have to admit, this is truly the best I have felt in a long, long time. Maybe it's something to do with the sun, and having the time to spend outdoors, even if revising, but I do think its something much more than that. Something appears to have made a huge mark on my life, though I won't say what for sake of jinxing it - don't worry, you can probably guess, and even so,will all know in time. Anyway, the pain in my life has become so much easier to bear, and yes, sometimes I even forget, except for maybe when one of my uncles tunes comes on the radio, or iPod, or at a concert, or a gig, and I'm struck by a feeling of loss once more. But even then, I don't so much feel the pain. It's mostly given way to a sort of gladness that I was blessed to be a part of that family, to still be able to hear his music being played, to know that his time here, though too short, will never be forgotten. And true, sometimes it still is really painful, and the legacy left to me is often difficult to bear, I can still see it somewhat as a gift. I may not see myself as a great musician, but I still find the great joy in playing music. I may still be known to many as daughter, granddaughter, niece, sister of all those infamous musicians of the family, but really, that no longer bothers me. I no longer have the need to fight that identity in order to be seen as me. In fact, I see it almost as a great gift, that I grew up around such wonderful music, and be blessed with such a wonderful family. It is as much a part of "me" as any of the other things I've ever mentioned here. I feel so much further on than I did during my more depressive periods this past year, and even before that, in the time since my uncles death. The death of three people from my high school in the last year, two of which were in my year, and classes, before we all parted ways two short years ago, has hit me hard. The knowledge that one of those was a suicide hit me even harder, especially because of the difficulty I had with coming to terms with my uncles. I missed the anniversary this year. We always used to go up to his gravesite on the day in December - a wee group of us - but I missed it this year; I was in uni, and didn't finish in time to go. That was hard. But like I said, this is definitely a better time for me. I will go back up to the grave when i go home this summer. Lay some flowers, maybe play a tune on my fiddle, just have some time there by myself. I still plan on getting that tattoo. I think it will be easier now, maybe to see it as somewhat of a more happy reminder. As I recently explained to a close friend, it doesn't represent death, so much as a reminder that life needn't be taken so seriously all the time.
Thirdly, my brother is much better now. He is off the majority of his meds,has come off the warfarin, and even has a job bag piping a few days a week. He brings in more money in a week than I seem to make in a whole month. The clot is still there, and will probably forever be there, but, bar some headaches, it no longer affects him so much. He's currently also in the middle of the exams he missed when this happened last year. I think the experience has changed him somewhat, but neither for better, or for worse. He is still my brother, and I cannot express how happy I am to still have him here. It also made me realise how many people there are out there who truly care about us. Sometimes it feels like there are none other than my brother (for I know he is always there for me) who care, but this showed me just how many people really do.
Fourthly, a few lines that crossed my mind today when I came across my old dance shoes and my painted wooden folding fan as I was packing: "Life is a dance we all begin as a child - an ever changing beat we move with. We can chose how to dance, and even whether to dance at all. I do not know much, but I do know that I dance not for the money, for beauty, but for the love of the dance itself. To find the rhythm that keeps life good - keeps me good, with the people, with the music, and with the life that makes me, me.."

And lastly, that poem. It is called "Morning, Sleepyhead" and yes, it is one of my own poems:

A little tap against my cheek
Startles me awake from fitful dreams
Of tigers chasing dolphins in a clear sea

Blue eyes stare down at me
One side reflecting the first pink glint
Of a morning sunrise over distant hills

I close my eyes again in vain
An attempt to return to those odd visions
Of tigers, dolphins, sea - but all gone now.

The tap comes again

My eyes shooting open once more
Catch the tiny, furry paw pulling quickly back
To support his wobbly crouch right on my sternum.

The little weight shifts as he looks at me
And his mouth opens in a big, wide yawn,
Showing all his perfect white teeth in the light.

His whiskers tickle the back of my hand
As I go to rub my eyes somewhat awake
An odd, light sensation still somewhat ethereal.

I move to sit up and yawn widely
The first sudden burst of sun catching my eye.
He glowers at me as he topples into my lap.

The scratchy tongue runs over my finger
Velcro over hard nail and soft skin.
He stands up, sleek, cream and brown.

His huge eyes sit large in his angular face
And he opens his mouth: "prrrmmrraaaaaooowww"
Says he, in his low, unbefitting voice.

Such is the morning ritual of our little Siamese

Location:Aberdeen

A poem from my childhood

This poem used to be on my wall as a child, and was probably one of the first poems I loved. As such, I can still remember all the words. It is unfortunate that some of the words, formerly completely innocent, have taken on alternative meanings with modern language, as it is a lovely old poem from the 19th century.

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat, by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above
And sang to a small guitar
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a wonderful Pussy you are
You are,
What a wonderful Pussy you are.

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! Too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood, a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

'Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
The danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The Early Bird

(A poem by me for the other early risers out there)

Never miss the first soft glimpse
Of the rising morning sun.
Birds are singing, flying, dancing
A picture of mirth and fun.
Even in those dreary days
When the sun is on the run,
Life is there knocking on the door
With the first of the morning sun

A new flat..

In my glass: Freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
On my iPod: the Flying theme from How to Train your Dragon (the movie)
From my bookshelf: none - I left them all at my parents house. I am in the middle of an ibook on my phone called The Demon Girl by Penelope Fletcher and I was reading Thud by Terry Pratchett before I left.
Outside: Rain... lots of rain
My mood: Contemplative, in the mood for poetry writing, but uninspired.
Facebook quote of the day: (courtesy of one of the home radio stations, and one of its facebook fans)
    Radio DJ: "Bristol are reportedly getting their own currency...the Bristol Pound (Boring name!)
If we had our own Scottish money, what would we call it? The Quid? The Scot? The Geezapound ?! Over to you.... :)"

    Facebook fan: naw, i'd call it beer tokens

    Haha :P

So here I am, in my new flat (yay!). Seeing as uni hasn't started back yet, and I can't seem to get a full-time job after being away at things all summer, I have been rather bored. Yesterday I spent most of the day cooking. I made bread, as we had far too much flour in the cupboard left by the last tenants. Unfortunately as it was only plain flour and not regular bread flour, the bread turned out a bit heavy-textured. I was thinking about making cupcakes too, but couldn't be bothered to get the other ingredients, like bicarbonate of soda. I made carrot and ginger soup, which is now in the freezer, and I roasted a chicken last night. There are only two of us in the flat, and the chicken was quite large, so the leftovers should do us for a few days, then we can make soup from the bones too.
Otherwise, I just generally sorted out all my stuff into its new home, and stocked up the kitchen cupboards with essentials like potatoes, onions, stock cubes, oil, vinegar and the likes. The flat is just lovely though, made even lovelier by the fact that its ours for at least the next year, if not longer.

Tomorrow, I'm heading off to a friends (very much overdue) official housewarming party. Should be great fun. We've still to organise one for our flatwarming, but we decided to wait until people were back at uni, because at the moment lots of people are on holiday/away home/have a full-time job. Then I'm staying home at my parents the week after (hence the reason for not having any books up with me) until the Cowal pipe band championships. Hoping for sun, but with this recent weather, its anyones guess what we will get. I still have sunburn from Glasgow last week and now its chucking it down. As a matter of fact, I don't know how I managed to be in Switzerland for two weeks without burning, then get burnt in Glasgow, where it was colder, and I was still using the same sunscreen as I was in Switzerland. Jeez.

My savings took a dip, courtesy of the flat deposit, but oh well. I'll just have to spend as little money as possible over the next couple of weeks until I get paid at the start of the money. That should at least be easier if I'm staying at my parents.

I'm missing my cats already :( Waking up in the morning is remarkably more difficult when you don't have a cat trampling over your face and sticking his whiskers up your nose in an effort to get you up to feed him. I'm glad I'll be seeing them at the weekend.

I've had an idea for a poem, and I'm in the mood to write, but the right words just don't seem to be there today. Its annoying. Maybe if I jot down what I have so far, it will be easier to come back to edit and finish off later.
So instead, I'm giving you a quick poem, in a slightly different style from my norm, about the World Pipe Band Championships which are held in Glasgow. This year was exceptional in that it was sunny, but most years, and indeed the year in which I wrote this, it was very much chucking it down.

The World Pipe Band Championships (written my me)

The Worlds!

Up at 6.

Yawn.

Bus at 7.

Groan...

Arrive at 8.

Hop out.

Smile...

Pipes singing,

Drums beating,

Sticks flying.

Boxes opened,

Cases unzipped.

Tuning now...

Eeeeeeeeeee,

Tum te tum te tum...

*sigh*

Tap;

boooom.

tap;

booooooom.

tap;

booooom...

Crackcrackcrackcrackcrack.

Crackcrackcrackcrackcrack.

...

Mud mud mud mud mud.

Time to go.

Bytheright,

*Slide*

Quick march.

Boom boom boom.

*Slip*

Boom boom eeeee

tum te tum te tum...

Kilts swinging,

Sporran on hip,

Heart in mouth,

Marching on.

.....

clapclapclap.

*sigh*

*smile*

...........

...*Slide*

Wait....

Wait...

Wait..

Wait.

Play again.

Beer tent?

no.

Pub?

no.

*Slip*

Bus.

Joke.

Laugh.

Beer tent.

*Slide*

...

Drum lost.

Drum found.

Massed bands.

Sore feet.

Sore legs.

Sore arms.

Knee deep in mud.

Results...

Hats fly.

Hat lost.

Drums beating.

Crowd cheering.

March off.

Hat found.

Bus.

.....

...

...

..

Pub.

And lastly, before I go...
         Current progress in my 21 things to do before I turn 21 (scratching off the completed things, of course.)
1) Get into 3rd year at uni (that means no failed years, or semesters)  - Well, I'm into 2nd year now, with no fails :) progress..
2) Rent my first flat and get some flatmates - done!
3) Get a decent-paying job to fit around uni, band and OTC commitments (few and far between) - Not unless you count a tattoo to be a job. Besides, its hardly regular, is it?..
4) Date a guy I like - still searching...
5) Save up and get that tattoo I've been pining over for years. - Maybe next summer. My savings are better, but not quite enough for me to have a safety net afterwards if my finances go down the pan.
6) Make a ball gown from my own design - I have the machine, I have the pattern, I just need to afford the material and the time.
7) Keep up with my blog here - oops
8) Learn to shoot safely and well - well I can shoot safely, but I don't know about "well".
9) Organise a night out, instead of just going to them - should happen whenever we decide to have our flatwarming
10) Go abroad - Done (Basel tattoo in Switzerland)
11) Take part in a Great Scottish Run - not done yet. Ankles are being a pain in the a**, so I haven't been training, and I need to go to the doctors about it, but haven't had the time yet, especially with the GP being booked up.
12)Pass an OTC PFA - Again with the ankles. The press-ups are being a pain too, because my ganglion flares up painfully whenever I try to train for them.
13) Learn to ski - Not yet
14) Learn Reveille, first post, and last post on the bugle - I almost have the basic five notes. If I can get the fifth note stronger, I should manage the bugle calls easier.
15)Buy my great long-time friend (who is younger than me and has known me since she was merely a few days old - we are like sisters and grew up together) her first legal drink from me on her 18th. - she isn't 18 yet.
16) Try to get enough savings to tide me over a few months if I'm broke - well I'm broke at the moment, so my savings are going down, but I still have enough to keep me going for a good while if I'm careful.
17) do what I want and stop caring about rumours/talk from others. - doing much better. In fact I made good friends with someone I thought I wouldn't get on with, and I just generally feel much better.
18)stop eating junk. No really. Stop buying stupid, unhealthy food when you're drunk/hungover/bored/cant be bothered, because there's always a better tasting, and just generally better alternative. -I've had one take-away chinese in the last 2 months, and it was a treat, so I'm marking this off.
19) sing in front of someone. Whether it be in a group, solo, drunk or sober, I want to get the guts up to perform with someone there. - not done so yet.
20) play my fiddle at least once a week. - oops. my fiddle playing has been in rather sporadic bursts over the last few months
21) I'm changing this to learning to sail - My uncle offered to teach me sometime. That is, when he isn't house-sitting in Australia. :)

Anyway, thats my progress so far.

An attempt to cheer up from a bad mood swing.

I'm a little sad again today. I seem to have a case of tiny niggling doubts in the back of my mind. It's funny though - it's not the whole guy thing that's annoying me. I still feel it doesn't matter - its the little things which go along with it that are picking away at me. Little things like the awkwardness of arriving to find your friend sitting at the same table as him, and not being able to decide if it would be less awkward for everyone for me to sit down, or go talk to my friend behind the bar instead.
Otherwise the little niggling things are totally unrelated. There are just rather too many of them to ignore them all, as much as my head is desperately trying. I don't know what's up with me. I'm having a serious case of mood swings this last month.
Anyway, I wrote a poem when I was feeling happier yesterday, so here it is, in an attempt to cheer me up and make me realise that past events don't matter anymore.

SPRING
A gentle breeze blows
Tickling awake the drooping snowdrops,
And shaking the last remnants of winter from the trees.
There is birdsong,
For the first time in months,
Waking up the city
As the silvery light of the sun
Shines through the last of the frost on the windows.
Somewhere, a hungry crow caws
While a flock of gulls fight
Over a half-eaten bacon roll
Down below.
Crocuses struggle their way open
In the space that the light touches,
Pushing their way against the last tug
Of the cold remainder of winter.
On the trees,
the first blossoms have sprung forth.
The world is being reborn from the cold of winter,
And it's time for me to join it,
To shake off the cobwebs of seasons passed,
And face the world anew.



- Posted using BlogPress

Location:Aberdeen University Kings Campus, Aberdeen

Feeling Sad

For some reason, I woke up today, and just couldnt get out of this pit of sadness I'm in. It's all like every little thing which has been bothering me has come down on me at once.
First of all, I'm ill. I have had it slightly for a couple of days, but today I slept through all my alarms and the testing for the fire alarm, missed my first lecture, my hearing is wierd, my sinuses blocked, my voice is about gone and all my limbs ache so much I really really don't want to get out of bed.
Secondly, I've found myself between two groups of friends. We're all trainee officer cadets. One group I'm good friends with, and have good banter, but most of them lack tact around awkward or sensitive situations. The second group are largely misunderstood by many in the first group, even though they are the only ones who actually cared about me when a particular piece of news was spread around the rest of the training corps. I had a bit of a heart-to-heart with one of the girls there last night, and I can't help feel that everyone has the wrong idea about her. She's like me, she puts on a face a lot of the time, to stop people pecking at our worst scars.
Also,tom not sure if I mentioned this before, but there's a certain guy I confessed to really liking him. Yeah, well, he basically took me home last week after a very drunken night out (on valentines day, of all things). I am now very pissed off and upset that he took advantage of me , and he never texted me, totally ignored me at the training corps last night (who all know about it and made certain it was mentioned more than a few times in the mess), and seemed to disappear with one of the other girls later when we all went out. Im sure the news will reach me by the weekend if he did. Douchebag.
Urgh. I just feel so horrible. It's good to get all this out, but I still feel kind of dead inside. It's like, so many of my friends don't have the tact and sympathy to talk about this kind of stuff with them, and at the same time, I don't want to bring those that would understand down with me. There is so much about me that even my closest friends don't know. My mask is my security blanket, and sometimes a good friend can peel away some, but what is always covered up is what sometimes makes me feel so alone, even among the best friends I could wish for. I guess in a way, it's why a blog is good for me, even when I don't feel like it.
Dear me, now my eyes are filling up, and I can't even tell if it's my illness or my sadness.
I really want to go out tonight, but if I'm still feeling sad, I'll definitely be staying off the alcohol. I may not be such great "craic" as we say, but it's much better than alcohols tendancy to kick you when you're down.
Sorry for the depressing poem, but it pretty much describes how I'm feeling.

CRYING (written by me)

I cannot cry.
I often want to.
A lump gathers in my throat,
And my eyes sting;
But little water wells
To even wet my eyelashes;
Let alone produce tears.
I hurt inside,
But it rarely shows.
I am stuck in silence,
My emotions supressed
By an invisible wall in my head.

I have always been like this;
So long that many don't know me ever to be sad.
But today was different:

Today I cried

Monday Again..

And not so bad either. I got up nice and early to go for a roundabout sunrise walk to the post office, to send a little package by special delivery to my mum. I'm always surprised by how much happier I am when I wake up early.
Anyway, I spent the whole weekend near Dundee with the folks from the OTC. The band had pretty much the whole drum corps there, but was rather lacking in pipers. Either way, I got bass and tenor music written out for all but the two tunes we havent got out from the pipers yet.
The plan to do some rifle training didn't quite go to plan, but we will at least hopefully get around to doing all that by the time summer camp, if not spring camp, comes around.
There were two birthday celebrations on saturday night. There would have been three, but one person was not there. Three pints (roughly the amount usually contained in our usual yard glass, which was back at the mess back in Aberdeen) was downed in quick succession by each, as per tradition, and it was all in all a good night, regardless of how tired everyone was. We had a 2 mile run on Saturday morning, but our PFA (physical fitness assessment) was postposed on sunday due to ice. Thank goodness. There were also blizzards reported on facebook by friends, and apparently some problems due to the weather in London.

So I have a poem with regards to the cold weather. The past month or so, I have heard of many reports of flowers and animals coming out for spring early, thanks to the better weather this winter. Unfortunately these animals and flowers are often very succeptible to sudden bad weather. Most spring-times, a blizzard can cause a lot of trouble for the young animals, expecially the lambs, and last year was no exception, so here I have a poem, inspired by their struggle:

THE LAMBING FALLS (by Me)

The freshness of the new grass;
An avalanche on the senses.
The sights,
Smells,
Sounds,
Of spring.
The strange,
Though not unpleasant smells
Of ivy
Climbing up stone
Into the soft sunlight
Dancing in streamers
Between the clouds.
The ewes are lambing,
And little bleatings of joy
Are in the air.
Then once again the sky falls,
In little white tufts,
On the land of hope,
Turned fear.
And another fight against nature begins.

A long while later,
As the sky lightens
And colours to blue,
The survivors appear.
Shivvery lambs enjoy the grass once more,
And fresh sprigs appear above the whiteness,
Happy,
Sad,
Cold
But strong;
The survivors of the lambing falls-
The spring snowstorm.

So, now I'm back home and contemplating a gym membership. Students at my university get cut prices, so it works out well. The plan is to increase my stamina, my upper body strength (and learn to do 25 push-ups by this time next year - I can currently do one, if you're lucky), and hopefully, my flexibility.

I read an article today about a woman trying to do 23 things before her 23rd birthday, in memory of her brother, and I think its an amazing idea. I would like to think I could try to do 19 things before my 19th birthday, but with uni, band etc, etc. I think timing and money are issues for me. So, I have decided to try to do 21 things before my 21st birthday. Here's my list:
1) Get into 3rd year at uni (that means no failed years, or semesters)
2) Rent my first flat and get some flatmates
3) Get a decent-paying job to fit around uni, band and OTC commitments (few and far between)
4) Date a guy I like
5) Save up and get that tattoo I've been pining over for years.
6) Make a ball gown from my own design
7) Keep up with my blog here (ie. at least once a week - yell at me if I don't)
8) Learn to shoot safely and well
9) Organise a night out, instead of just going to them
10) Go abroad
11) Take part in a Great Scottish Run
12)  Pass an OTC PFA, and every one thereafter (50 sit-ups (2 minutes), 22 press-ups (2 minutes), and a 2.4km run (11 min or less))
13) Learn to ski
14) Learn Reveille, first post, and last post on the bugle
15) Buy my great long-time friend (who is younger than me and has known me since she was merely a few days old - we are like sisters and grew up together) her first legal drink from me on her 18th.
16)...
I'm out of ideas for the moment. I'll update again once I think of more things I would love to do.

PS. sorry for the ultra-long post

The Soldier's Return - Burns Night

Hello, all!
I'm having a little break at the moment. I've been deciding what I want to take with me to Glasgow to wear this weekend. Otherwise,it's been a quiet day.
I got my timetable for this new semester out, and it starts next week. I do have 3 lectures one after the other in a lecture theatre with no power sockets. My poor old laptop will barely last through 2, so I think I may be forking out for a spare battery if I can find one that will fit my dear old laptop (which incidentally works pretty well otherwise considering its older than a lot of the laptops/computers the rest of my family have which are having loads of problems). My laptop battery still lasts almost as long as it did when I bought it, so it's doing not bad, it just doesn't last long enough all on its own.

Anyway, I promised a Poem by Robert Burns for burns day, didn't I? Well here we are: the Soldiers Return. Technically it's a song, but I never heard it sung, so I just know it as a poem. And a beautiful one at that.

THE SOLDIERS RETURN

When wild war's deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle peace returning,
Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning;
I left the lines and tented field,
Where lang I'd been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a' my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger.

A leal, light heart was in my breast,
My hand unstain'd wi' plunder;
And for fair Scotia hame again,
I cheery on did wander:
I thought upon the banks o' Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon the witching smile
That caught my youthful fancy.

At length I reach'd the bonie glen,
Where early life I sported;
I pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted:
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother's dwelling!
And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in my een was swelling.

Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, "Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
O! happy, happy may he be,
That's dearest to thy bosom:
My purse is light, I've far to gang,
And fain would be thy lodger;
I've serv'd my king and country lang-
Take pity on a sodger."

Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,
And lovelier was than ever;
Quo' she, "A sodger ance I lo'ed,
Forget him shall I never:
Our humble cot, and hamely fare,
Ye freely shall partake it;
That gallant badge-the dear cockade,
Ye're welcome for the sake o't."

She gaz'd-she redden'd like a rose -
Syne pale like only lily;
She sank within my arms, and cried,
"Art thou my ain dear Willie?"
"By him who made yon sun and sky!
By whom true love's regarded,
I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded.

"The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
And mair we'se ne'er be parted."
Quo' she, "My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenish'd fairly;
And come, my faithfu' sodger lad,
Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!"

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodger's prize,
The sodger's wealth is honor:
The brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he's his country's stay,
In day and hour of danger.

- Posted using BlogPress

Location:Aberdeen,United Kingdom

Rememberance service

We had our school rememberance service today,so I see it fitting to mention the poem "For the Fallen" of which the ode of remembrance is read.

They went with songs to the battle,they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

I hope you all had your 2 minutes silence today. If not please do so, and remember.

Busy days?

Busy day today? Sure was up here anyway. The place was buzzing and everybody was running around like headless chickens half the time. I can't figure out the concentration of ammonium molybdate I need for chemistry, though biology seems to be getting off good. Reprographics has my fiddle music. I need to think of base ideas for bag design and learn about my chosen designers for art. Dear me. Hardly time to stop and rest. Dunno what happened to the pigeons though, and the seagulls too. Tool this bus through town and there wasn't a single one in sight. Hmm...
Anyway, musings later. Poetry now.
This one is Fire and Water and was inspired by a picture I found on the Internet. Everything is connected. Don't worry if you don't understand the first time, it is meant to haves different meaning to people.

Little Flame against blank wall.
Oh, beauty!
The spark of power,
A wave of calm.
Lighting up dreary darkness and shutting out the fears,
Ruby red and cobalt blue.
And life goes on,
Like a cloud on the horizon,
Mysterious, and obvious,
As fast as the wind can carry it.
There is beauty in a flame,
And wisdom in a raindrop,
And if only one but listens very carefully,
A whim of a whisper may reach out.
Water and fire.
Water destroys fire destroys water.
Water creates fire creates water.
Both eternally linked.
And somewhere in the clouds,
An angel sings.

Enjoy!
Tigereye...

Hey Everyone

Hi guys. First log in to my new blog. I'm Tigereye.
I love writing, especially poetry, so I thought i would give you a little piece to start us off. I called it Drowning.

I jumped into the water a while ago,
unknowingly.
Spluttering, coughing,
A weight pulls me down,
And I struggle against it.
The bottom too far below
For me to get any support,
Solid ground too far away
For me to reach
The wieght pulls,
I pull,
It pulls.
I can only stay afloat for as long as possible
And hope to be saved
By that one who will piece together my shattered heart
And give me something to fight for,
Because I am drowning in tears
And death stands at my front door,
Laughing.
And yet,
I know he cannot take me too.

What do you think? Don't worry, they aren't all depressing. That was just one of my favourites that I have written so far. Anyway, hopefully Moonlit Summers isn't all going to be about poetry. I'll probably put up some thoughts on random subjects as time goes by. I'll try and update soon. Bye for now.