Thank God It Is Easter (Part 2)

This goes beyond all common sense, but it seems like I’ll be pulling another all-nighter. What now Jingo, more important coursework that needs to be handed in tomorrow morning or you’ll have fail your course and die of shame? No. This time I’m keeping myself awake because I’m trying to prove a point by spending the entire night completing a chemistry revision guide. A Chemistry Revision Guide 127 pages long that’s stuffed with challenging questions and I intend to complete it, even if it takes the whole night. And I’m doing this, to prove a point - To myself. I think I’m going insane.

(I’ve just spent half an hour sitting in the dark mulling over my thoughts. That can’t be normal.)

And I’m doing this on the start of the Easter holidays, the English equivalent of the infamous Spring Break. Whenever I think “Spring Break”, I picture girls in small bikinis playing volleyball and basking in the sun whilst drinking pina coladas, or house parties where everyone is falling over and laughing and making out with each other (yes, I do realise I watch too many American teen movies) – so basically, people having excessive amounts of fun. Therefore it depresses me to be alone in the dark, trying to figure out the empirical formula of calcium carbonate while people half a world away are living it up without a care in the world. It sickens me how cruel life is.

So why don’t you stop subjecting yourself to this mental torture and get some sleep, you may ask. It’s not even like this remotely matters, or will have any impact on me at all – I won’t magically understand chemistry by doing this.

Since I'll have no study leave, this will be my only chance to revise properly before the exams begin in 6 weeks time. I intend to make the most of it, even if it damages my health.

So basically, my Easter won’t exactly be chocolate eggs and fluffy bunnies. At least that party-animal, wild-child Torquer will come round during the holidays – he’ll probably bring his lemon plant photo collection and rant about the benefits of a Mac, as he sneers at my pathetic Windows powered laptop. He’ll probably bore me into submission so I’ll have no choice but to study and revise.

And why the hell does no one buy me chocolate? It seems the school tradition of buying each other Easter eggs is restricted to just the girls. It’s either that or I’m incredibly unpopular/my friends are stingy bastards/no one is willing to spend money on me.

So anyway, I’m really looking forward to this relaxing break from school. Now if you excuse me, I have chemicals to calculate.

Note: I do realise I've repeated a lot of stuff from my last post. The last one didn't really express how I felt (and was kinda crap) so this one makes up for it.

Thank God Easter's Here

This week has really drained the life out of me - I've been chasing coursework deadlines, depriving myself of sleep and generally fretting over the GCSEs that loom over me like a dark cloud. At this rate, my health will slowly deteriorate and I'll waste away as I walk further down the road to self-destruction. Will there be any respite?

Thank God Easter has come. It really couldn't have come sooner. I think the American equivilent is Spring break, which has always conjured up thoughts of bikinis and beaches and excessive fun (I have been watching too many American teen movies). It's depressing to know that I'll be spending "Spring break" sleeping, procrastinating and doing casual revision - so there'll be not an ounce of fun.

(I'll probably invite that party-animal wild-child Torquer to mine sometime in the holidays. He'll probably bring his potted plant photo collection to ease the boredom or somethin')

The Easter holidays gives me two weeks to recuperate, then there'll be just a month before I start sitting my GCSEs, something I've been working towards in the last few months. These two weeks will be devoted to working towards not screwing up.

In other news, I badly want a Nintendo Wii. Since I can't afford a PS3 and I hate all things Microsoft, I'll probably save up for one of these in the Summer.

4am

The phone is ringing.

I stumble out of bed, groping for the cordless phone I had inadvertantly left in my room. It's dark but I can hear birds twittering.

It takes an eternity for me to answer it, and when I do I hear this: "Oh shit. I forgot to dial 141..." I hear some laughter in the background. They then put down the phone.

Oh fuck. It took me some time to register what was happening. I glance to the clock and it tells me it's 4am. Before I can even dial 1471 to trace the number, they redial.

I put the phone down. They call again. I unplug the phone.

I was up till fucking 12 doing fucking coursework and I was absolutely fucking shattered. I can't deal with this shit. Needless to say, I was not a happy bunny next morning.

I made some enquiries back at school and found the culprit. I then went on MSN and gave him a right bollocking (apparently he was drunk at the time). After giving him a piece of my mind, I doubt he'll ever try that shit ever again.

Anyway, there is more to this gripping tale... which I'll tell you about when I'm not inundated with coursework. I'm also not getting enough sleep.

The Great Coursework Panic

At the time, I made a vow to myself that I'd stay ahead of the game; that I'd keep on top of my coursework; and I won't piss about and wait until the end then panic and stay up till 3am when I'm absolutely shattered and have a twitch in my eye. Fast forward to now - it's 1am on a weekday and I'm typing away in semi-darkness, overwhelmed by the massive stacks of coursework that surround me as I try to meet the hundreds of deadlines.

Yes, I have a sense of deja vu. But this time, instead of a relaxed atmosphere of beer drinking and cherry tomato eating, I'm vaguely listening to Radio 4 comedy whilst half-reading the Budget for 2007 in The Guardian. I like to think of it as intellectual stimulant. Oh and I'm completely wound up, and have this horrible twitch that makes it impossible for me to look at the screen.

And to think I laughed at Torquer when he decided to sacrifice the first episode of the new series of House MD in favour of redrafting his english coursework. I watched it (and thought it was great) but now I pay the price; he's probably snug in his bed dreaming away while I'm in a mad rush to complete chemistry coursework. I blame Channel 5. Why would you put the first episode of House MD and Shark on the same day?

To make matters worse, the school has announced there will be no study leave this year. NO STUDY LEAVE. This means I'll be in school before and after these massively important exams. Not only will I not be able to concentrate, but I'll also feel like shit as well. Great.

And another thing, I'm just not getting enough sleep these days because of workload and this is making me incredibly tired. It's like the sleep version of oxygen debt, but instead of lactic acid my body is producing grouchiness.

And I'll finish off there. This post has probably degenerated into inane ramblings but I'm just too tired to read over, or put in the links to Wikipedia so you know what the hell I'm talking about. I'll probably regret ever writing this in the morning...

Edit: Does anyone know how you can possibly collect carbon dioxide (which is heavier than air) in a test tube to measure it, after producing it from calcium carbonate marble chips when reacted with hydrochloric acid? Now that I think about it, does that even produce carbon dioxide? This is what happens when you work in the early hours of the morning...

Grand Theft Plagarismo

The panic has set in. I've decided to barracade myself in my own room, with nothing more than a Budweiser, some Danone Activia apricot yoghurt and a brioche to keep me through the long night ahead. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I might even have to cancel watching Prison Break tonight.

Yes, I'm willing to make sacrifices. All for the sake of a few extra marks on my coursework. Is it even worth it? Would I do just as well in my GCSEs without a few measly extra percent? Unfortunately, this may have a massive effect on my future and I'm not willing to take any risks.

If only I had Torquer for guidance. He is a coursework-writing genius and seems to be able to achieve 100%s effortlessly, while I on the other hand toil night and day, writing reams and reams of the stuff only to have it sent back to me covered in red pen with little yellow post-it notes that read: "This is pure drivel and has all the literary value of a Harry Potter novel." or something along those lines.

Alas, it seems the only way I'll get 100% in my Business Studies coursework is if I commit an act of Grand Theft Pagarismo and ransack his computer harddrive, making copies of the Business Studies coursework he has worked so hard on.

Or I could just work hard on my own. Maybe I should do that instead of contemplating ways of stealing Torquer's work and getting distracted by this blog.

I've just noticed my Budweiser has been replaced by a bowl of cherry tomatoes. How very strange...

A Buffet is a Buffet is a Buffet

Imagine me striding through the darkness in Liverpool city centre; Uni students stumble out of pubs vomitting or cackling inanely as I stare in awe at the neon lights and gaudy nightclubs. In all my years living in Liverpool, this is the first time I've been to this part of town; perhaps it's because of the unsavoury rabble that seem to loiter around this area, or the high likelihood that i'll get mugged if I walk around, looking dazed, by myself in the dark.

Did I mention I was wearing my school uniform? So there I was, walking through Liverpool in my blazer looking a total ponce, as students of varying levels of drunkeness give me odd looks.

So why was I risking my life amist the bustle of Liverpool nightlife? Well, for some unknown reason, my Dad was taking some business colleagues to some swanky new buffet that had just opened and he suggested I join him. Since there'd be no one at home to cook I had the difficult choice of deciding whether to go home and starve, or navigate through Liverpool's drunk quarter then endure my dad's boring company for an hour.

I managed to make it through the city without being knifed and when I reached the buffet, I was quite impressed. The place was huge and the food smelt good and the waitresses were all very pretty.

But when I went up to get some food, I realised that a buffet is a buffet is a buffet. As swanky as this place was, it was still a buffet and that meant generic anglo-chinese food that you have to get yourself and bring back to your small table that too close to the other tables and so you can hear everyone else's boring conversation. I don't like using stereotypes, but I was surrounded by thieving scousers; whole tables were stuffed with them as they traded stories about thuggery and drunkeness and the number of ASBOs they had "won".

Nevertheless, I ate until I was bursting and look forward to going back there to stuff my face.

It's The Start. Of Something New...

It's weird how the A-level results coincide with my options deadline.

All around me Year 12's were experiencing the joys and pains of results day. Most clutched their results paper with a look of relief or disappointment, wandering around trying to make themselves feel better by comparing results with others in the hope that they didn't do as bad as they thought (whilst pretending they weren't too bothered about their results when actually it was eating away at their insides).

You can always tell the ones who get the multiple 100%s by the way they swagger around and deliberately not boast, even though they emit an aura of smugness, the bastards (who I secretly admire).

And you can't help feeling sorry for those that have failed completely, but are still enquiring about their chances to Oxbridge. Or the ones that are crying in the corner somewhere. I have a terrible feeling every time I see them that it's foreshadowing...

It certainly made me think twice which was why Torquer and I talked about our options a great deal before deadline day:

Torquer: "So what about Geography? Apparently it's the bridge between social sciences and real sciences. Surely that'd be useful?"

Jingo: "Don't get me started on Geography. If the 'Green Revolution' gets mentioned one more time I'll hurl myself into a biogas container with a lighted match... If I wanted to be bored I'd talk to you more often."

Torquer: "Economics then? That's kinda interesting..."

Jingo: "Only for someone as boring as you. It's just general knowledge and watered down maths! I really can't endure another year of analysing cash-flow forecasts..."

Torquer: "ICT?"

Jingo: "What makes you think I'd want to sit in front of a screen being taught visual basic by a boring middle-aged man?"

Torquer: "How about French? We both did that a year early, we both got A*s, surely it'll be a breeze?"

Jingo: "I think you forget the amount of effort we put in to get those A*s Torquer, and as you know I'm a really lazy person. And besides, I've forgotten it all by now. The only french phrase I remember is 'voulez-vous couchez avec-moi, ce soir?' and I learnt that off a Christina Agulera video."

(I then start singing the Moulin Rouge song Christina Agulera did, whatever it's called. You know the one. I only know a few lines.)

Torquer: "Oh I know! English. We're cool blog-writing people, it can't be that hard?"

Jingo: "Firstly, you're about as cool as James Blunt. And secondly, there's too much analysing poetry involved... I'd do it if we didn't have to annotate every Simon Armitage poem ever written. Seriously, if I ever meet Simon Armitage I'll punch him in the face for the misery I've suffered reading his works. If I have to analyse another Simon Armitage poem, I'll impale myself with a rusty pencil..."

Torquer: Damn it Jingo! Why must there be a snide reply to everything I say? I have feelings! And emotional needs!

Jingo: Oh shut your face, Torquer. And don't forget to make me that GCSE timetable you lazy moron.

So there you go, a fascinating insight into a phone call between Torquer and I. It didn't take long for me to make my choices, since there are so many subjects I can't wait to drop.

My final decision was:
Biology
Chemistry
Physics
Mathematics
reserve: Further Mathematics

Could it be any more scientific? It was actually tough deciding which reserve I should pick since Maths is the only subject I'm naturally gifted at, yet three sciences would make me a far better candidate for Medicine. I know it's possible to take 6 A-levels (including General Studies) but then would I have a social life? I think I'll wait until my GCSE results before such drastic decisions.

Hopefully I'll be celebrating some kickass results and not contemplating suicide, come this time next year.

A Blank Canvas

What was jingoistic? It definitely wasn't me; if anything, I'm turning more and more into a liberal. Only last week, I switched newspapers from The Times (read by right-wing old people) to The Independent (read by left-wing, dynamic young people). Although not because of any change in political view, simply because The Times is as dull as dishwater. I don't think I've posted anything vaguely right-wing or nationalist so the name really doesn't make any sense.

So in an effort to be taken more seriously (and not to be labelled as a BNP member), I've decided to completely redesign the blog.

I think the most difficult part of the switch was the naming process. I wanted something that was witty, hilarious and deep. This proved quite a challenge. I skimmed through various different books (including my GCSE poetry anthology) and spent many days thinking up the perfect blog name, but my mind was blank.

My house is littered with canvasses; some hanging off the walls and the rest stuffed under my bed. It seemed fitting to call the blog "A Blank Canvas", since my future is so malleable at this moment in time. Who knows what will become of me in couple of years? Like a blank canvas, this is a fresh start. Hopefully It'll turn out to be a masterpiece and not some idle doodle.

(And whilst searching Wikipedia, they described a canvas as "artistic material". Well that's me alright.)

Like Smirnoff ice, this blog has been filtered for a richer, smoother taste. I hope you enjoy.

A Beautiful Day To Pick Litter...

It's March? That could only mean another session of my favourite activity, picking litter at Prince's Park! Hurrah, it means I get another chance to spend my precious time trudging through mud, navigating through parklands that seem to have been bombed by litter when I could be sleeping in and recuperating. And did I mention I get to spend time with this charming fellow? Oh joy.

The things I will do to bolster my CV...

I've already told you enough anecdotes involving Torquer and I so I shan't bother this time. The truth is nothing embarrassing or amusing happened on our third litter-picking session.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the dogs were yapping... Instead of just picking litter, I decided to piss around taking photos while Torquer and Rob struggled with their big binbags (100% un-photoshopped!) :

This tree was probably struck by lightning.


I found this amusing. You might not.


Amongst the disgusting debris, there was beauty... I'm surprised swans can live in such squalor


Back at Rob's, I head straight over to his pond when he informed me of the frog orgy that takes place around this time of month. With these pics, I could become a frog pornographer...

So there's a selection of photos I took whilst litter-picking. There were lots more but unfortunately Torquer featured in them, the disgusting git.

Physics Showdown

Physics Challenge... Over the past few days I have come to despise it.

I hate the way the school has decided to enter the "physics elite" (59 students out of 120...) to face a such a fiendishly insanely difficult test. I hate how the grades are Bronze, Silver and Gold; and if I get a "Participation", I needn't have bothered. I hate how the grade boundary is 70% for a Gold, yet most of us won't even achieve 30% (a Bronze). I hate how the test is not a qualification, yet means more than any qualification I have done to date.

But most of all, I hate how important it is to me. Succeed and I can silence my critics and it'll look awesome on the Uni applications. Fail and there aren't any serious implications... (apart from losing all respect and having a shattered self-esteem. I've already suffered enough from my poor Chemistry result)

And having done the test today, I regret being so ill-prepared. The day before the exam, the only preparation I did was take a shower with "Herbal Essence's Fruit Fusion" (The ads on TV enticed me so I bought the product, and it did wonders for my hair. Afterwards I felt somewhat emasculated...). On the morning of the exam, I ate a pain-au-chocolate in the hope that the energy I gained from this little french pastry would convert into some kind of mental stimulant. I did very little actual studying.

So with that in mind, I realised I probably won't achieve my set target of Gold. Even Bronze would be a struggle. As I waited for my exam paper, I realised I should probably have revised more.

Nick: Face it Jingo, God's on my side. He'll guide me through this test no problem.
Jingo: God's on my side. How else did I get A* in French when I can't speak a word of it?

(at this point Nick begins mumbling a prayer)

Nick: Dear God, see everyone through this except Jingo... See everyone through this except Jingo...
Jingo: Glad to know I'm in your prayers Nick...

Before we could exchange further banter, the test had begun and I screwed it up. But anyway, it's over now. Results are on Monday.

So a stressful weak is over. I've just ran 5km and watched Pan's Labyrinth whilst eating a Big Mac. Therefore I'm extremely confused/disorientated/frightened at this moment in time. All I want to do is sleep...