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ROSIE Rushton-Stone

I forgot to put a title before...

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Edited by ROSIE Rushton-Stone, Tuesday, 15 Mar 2011, 12:28

On Friday I went to visit a mate in Exeter.  We took my mother out for dinner - the Holt in Honiton - awesome food.  Disappointingly no caramel vodka in, which is something I usually buy a bottle of for the road, as they say.  Still, it was a good night overall, and eating and drinking there is always a pleasure.  Oh, and as there wasn't any caramel vodka; I tried Amaretto.  That turned out to be an equally delicious pudding alternative.  Dropped my mother home and went back to my mate's for wine and a life debrief.  Went out on Saturday for a wander around Exeter, which was boring in itself, but resulted in a sandwich and cocktail jug, which left us walking home a little less bored and a little more wobbly.  We watched crap DVDs for the rest of the day, chatted, drank wine, ate pizza - she ate garlic bread too, yuk - and generally had a bit of a teenage evening.  Oh, and we coincidentally found a bottle of Amaretto in her cupboard which was an added bonus.  On Sunday I headed to Bath for a lunchtime gig at the American Museum.  I thought this was pretty cool actually, as the music there is free with museum entry.  Museum entry is expensive, so I would recommend anyone going to do so on a day when there is a gig.  That was the Scoville Units again, which was as good as I'd expected, with surprisingly good acoustics in what gave the impression of being a very echo-y building.  An added bonus was that their guitar player had got stuck somewhere far away, so another guy had stepped in, Jason, who used to play in a band called Daily Planet, who are also brilliant.  The banjo player, Leon, also played in Daily Planet, so it resulted in a few of their old tracks being played, which reminded me very much of being 13 and sitting in the Bell in Bath watching hippy women get drunk and drunk men get drunker.  I loved going to gigs there.  Well actually no I didn't, but I loved going to certain gigs there - Daily Planet were without question my favourite, but I was also a fan of the Cosmic Sausages, and there were a few others that I forget now.  I also loved the rolls they sold.  I fainted in front of a band in there when I was 13 actually, and they all got off the stage to take me outside and give me water.  I was horribly embarrassed when I came round.  Anyway I digress.  It was lovely to see Leon, though I always act like a complete arse around him.  Despite knowing him well.  I don't see him often enough to be comfortable in his presence, so I always leave far quicker than is polite really, even though I would happily stay chatting longer.  I guess he's used to it by now.  It was very cool to see Jason too, though I didn't get past 'hello' with him.  I cringe to think back on it.  I'm very good at smiling at them while they play though, so I'm not completely socially inert!

Came back home that evening, which was uneventful. 

Ready to knuckle down to study today, but had a bombshell discussion with my mother that sent me into a very bad place for the day, that I think I am now coming out of.  But consequently I achieved nothing, which is very annoying, and I still feel very drained from being so emotional all day. 

Tomorrow I think I'll just turn my phone off or something, and hope my mind has sorted itself out overnight.  I hate unexpected stresses like that; it completely throws me.

Still, the day is coming to a close.  I'm going to watch some rubbish on TV, and hope I sleep well, and without nightmares.  Two nights running I've had really bad nightmares!  And mine are so annoying because I know I'm about to have one, because I have an imaginary house, and an imaginary flat, that they all happen in.  So as soon as I find myself in one of them I know it's going to be bad.  I'm not sure whether dreams and that sort of thing are inherited in any way, but all the men in my family on my mum's side have horrific nightmares.  I remember at least one, but usually about four, dreams every night, and I have nightmares at least twice a week.  Proper nightmares too, no airy fairy nonsense; really scary realistic situations with terrifying outcomes.  Ah well, at least they never come true!  I'm not into the meanings of dreams luckily, or I'd waste a lifetime looking into mine!

Anyway, fingers crossed for a better night tonight and a better day tomorrow.  I have too much to do to throw away much more time.

I have this black line floating in my line of vision that is driving me bonkers.  I am told that I should get it checked promptly.  I've looked it up on google though, and I think it must be 'a floater' (a description I'm not too happy with as it makes me think of something unpleasant, as you can imagine).  Floaters seem to usually be harmless, and very rarely serious.  I'm seeing a doctor on Thursday so I'll ask him then.  I hope it doesn't stay forever though because it's very distracting.  It's about 2 inches long when looking at this computer screen.  From what I read, there's nothing to be done to get rid of it though.  We'll see.

Time for crap TV smile

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ROSIE Rushton-Stone

Frustrating

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I have this running machine that has a safety mechanism that is activated by the presence/absence of a magnet.  So when you run you put a magnet on a piece of string on the front, and then clip the other end to your t-shirt, and then if you fall off, the magnet is pulled off and the machine stops.  Pretty standard stuff.  Today however, just as I started, the phone rang, so I pulled the string, and the magnet flew out of the little plastic shell it's in, and I can't find it anywhere.  I then tried all the fridge magnets we have, and none were strong enough, apart from the giant Cartman magnet, but he's too big to fit in the hole without being held in place, which is impossible.  Plus it would be weird to have him staring at me all the time.  I've been racking my brains trying to think of where I can find a small, strong magnet right now!  And I can't!  It's really really really irritating!!
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Pancake day

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I have just spent a very funny evening round at a friend's house, making pancakes whilst reading through a pile of letters that I wrote to her from age 6-13.

The difference in writing style between myself and our peers is astounding.  I can't believe nobody took any notice of it.  As an example (and we know this because I quoted it in my reply), she wrote:

'Sophie is really ill and we think she might have to be put down.  We're all really upset, and not even the vet nose what's wrong'.

Sophie was her dog.  We were all 7 at the time. She has several replies from friends, all saying how sad, and that they hope she gets better soon.  My reply says 'when you write about knowing something, you write k-n-o-w.  N-o-s-e only refers to the nose on your face.  Your sentence didn't make sense'.

In fact, each and every one of my letters begins in the same way:

'Dear Rachel,

How are you?  I miss you a lot.  You are my best friend.  You made a few spelling mistakes in your letter.  I'll write down the things you got wrong so you know'.

What?!  Over the years I have learnt how to write far more socially acceptable letters, but seeing it there in black and white really made me wonder how no one picked up on anything 'different'.  Not that it really matters of course; what's done is done.  It just surprises me.

Hey ho.  It's also International Women's Day today.  I can't find any connection with it, so I won't be writing more on that.

Pancake day, or rather, Shrove Tuesday, does strike a chord with me.  I wouldn't have eaten pancakes had I not been invited out.  It leaves me feeling strangely guilty, as I am not religious, and furthermore have no intention of giving anything up for Lent.  I never have, and I probably never will.  I have always found it very difficult to understand the way people make their lives difficult or uncomfortable when it is not fully necessary.  Don't get me wrong; I do understand if someone has strong religious beliefs - that is an entirely different matter.  But many people do not, and certainly the people I know giving up random things for Lent do not.  I never understood the 'finish what's on your plate because there are children who are starving' anymore than I understand 'deprive yourself of something you enjoy in memory of a man you don't believe in'.  It all seems very fickle to me, and if anything, offensive to those who have a genuine belief. 

Each to their own perhaps.  And I did eat the pancakes.  And they were very nice.  One with golden syrup and two with sugar and honey.  And I might add, made from scratch, not from a powdered shaker.  And the letters, well, there were points where we were actually crying with laughter.  Again, I am forced to face the fact that I was lucky to have had so many friends, and for my genuine misunderstanding of how the world works being taken as dry wit. 

At least we can laugh about it!

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A day defined by a broken mug?

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It certainly seemed that way.

Yesterday I got up at half five, got a mug out the cupboard, dropped it, and smashed the handle off.  And cursed.

Got out a second mug. Put a tea bag in, and boiled the kettle.  Poured the water in, got distracted by the cats, and allowed the mug to overflow, causing boiling water to drip all over the surface, into a drawer, and onto the floor.  I cursed.

I got the drink sorted eventually, and went to sort out my bank accounts.  I won't go into that, but rest assured it kept the flow of disaster on track.

I went back to bed at some point for a little sleep, and dreamt that I'd sent an important e-mail.  My brain didn't register it as a dream though, but as a reality.  So later, at the end of the day, I hadn't sent an important e-mail that needed to have been sent.

I then had to change the ink in my printer, and the ink cartridge leaked all over my hands and more importantly, my rug.

I decided to watch Loose Women (don't judge me), and in the adverts thought I'd have some weetabix.  I stood up, took a step, the cat ran under my foot... I tried not to stand on the cat and went flying across the room, stamping on my bag as I went, breaking an item inside.  Cursing again.  I also hurt my foot.

I didn't feel like studying as planned, so I spent some time neatly piling all my study books and bits of paper and 'organising' them.  Amongst all the bits of paper I found an unpaid bill, that on investigation, I had been charged twelve pounds for not paying.

By half five I had texted a friend to go to the pub. 

When I got back I decided to cook sausage and 'thai mash'.  And I started my first ever grill fire.  The whole oven went up in flames and scared me stupid.  I ate my food, gave up on the day and went to bed.

This morning I got up, and the first thing I got was an e-mail from a guy wanting to know some stuff about banjo music.

I spent the morning picking out tracks to send to him, and typing out little descriptions.  A wonderful way to spend time.  I've made tea and breakfast with no difficulty.

The twelve pound fine has been lifted as it is a first 'offence'.

My bank accounts are back in order.

The mug handle is still broken, but otherwise, everything that went wrong yesterday has been sorted, and everything that has happened today has been good.

Was it down to smashing the mug and getting the happy e-mail respectively?

Probably not, but I'm so glad today isn't like yesterday, whatever the reason.  It truly is a happy Monday wink 

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Post tutorial

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Hangover aside, all went amazingly well today.  I have surprised myself!!

The building was the building I thought it might be.  I pulled into Temple Meads ten minutes late at 10.50 and got to the tutorial for 11am.  Good stuff. 

Nice tutor and nice people.  Even the introduce yourself stuff wasn't as distressing as it usually is.  I felt strangely chilled.  Maybe being severely dehydrated and sleep deprived is the key to relaxation.  Anyway, I will definitely be attending the rest of these tutorials based on my experience today. 

On a less positive note, I have just remembered that we're meant to be going out tonight with my sister-not-in-law.  My body does not want to.  And neither does my head.  I very much enjoyed all my cocktails last night, but there is a reason they make them too expensive to indulge in on a regular basis.  They would kill you.  As good a reason as any I suppose.

On a more positive note, on our drunken stroll around tescos we picked up a number of things that I am happy to have discovered today - a bar of Fry's turkish delight, a giant bottle of pepsi max, some brandy snap baskets and some fruity coulis stuff.  There's also some random stuff; a lime, some funky tissues, a yoghurt and some iron on material for fixing rips or something.  I don't know what we were planning, but I'm sure if we hadn't got waylaid by the consumption of the enormous chocolate muffin, that whatever it was would have been a lot of fun.

On an investigative note; when did people stop using the 'h' in yoghurt?

I've just discovered that the word 'yoghurt' is one of those words that stops looking like a real word when you stare at it for too long.

I've got a hangover.  I shouldn't be writing here.  I can't think sensibly or coherently.  I'm gone.

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Tutorial

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This is not a good start to meeting fellow students... My mum did meet me in Bristol yesterday and she did buy me cocktails as promised, to congratulate me on getting the last B3 assignment in. We did get home drunk and we did go to the pub on our way home, and we did call into tesco and buy an enourmous pudding which I guess we ate. We went to bed not long after 4am. My alarm went off at 9am. I sleepily looked at train times. Running slow over the weekend; the only one that gets me to Bristol before 11am leaves at 9.35. SHIT!! Chucked a few text books in my bag, downed a pint of water, ran to the train station (a record 9 minutes!), and caught the train. That's only the start. The train is due in at 10.40, the tutorial is at 11, and I don't know where it is. Yet. I know where it is in words... The regional centre in Bristol, but I don't know where it is really if that makes sense. I intended to look online but that fell apart in the rush, and my phone cries when it has to download a picture, so that's not an option. I'm hoping it's the massive OU building I walk past when I'm heading from Temple Meads to the train station - well that's where I'm going. If that isn't it, then I'll be so pissed off that I didn't just stay in bed. To add to the huge panic that is now rising, I look how I feel. For a first meeting of fellow course members, I don't think this is going to set a good impression at all. Not at all! And I'm going to have to give my real name I guess so there'll be no hiding who I am. I haven't even got a bloody pen. Bugger! And I haven't looked at the tutorial presentation thing that got mailed to me the other day because I was pulling a B3 miracle off. And then sleeping and getting drunk. Oh, and I haven't read the text books either. I have stuck a picture of an ear by the bed (from the text book, not just a weird ear), so I know what the inside of my ear looks like. Hopefully that will see me through the 2 hours. I have no idea what to expect, I'm worried I'm not heading for the right place, and overall I'm having to question why I'm even on this train. I must be completely mad. By the time I get there, if I get there, I will be a nervous wreck, and what's the betting they make us play some terrifying 'introduce yourself' game, or even just the one where they go round the room one by one, asking why you want to learn the stuff you haven't learnt. Shit, I don't know if it's nerves or hangover that's making me feel so anxious. If anything, I think the hangover is dampening the usual anxieties, because although my heart is starting to pound, I don't feel like I'm going to pass out just yet, and given the circumstances, that's quite cool by my standards. Anyway, better go, the woman next to me thinks I'm sending an 18 page text. Ha ha. Apologies to all who meet me today - next time I'll strive to be on better form!!!
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Another one bites the dust

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Well that's the last TMA of the B3 course.  I hope this one gets through normally.  I am so painfully tired that I can hardly stand.  I can't even work out which night it was that I last went to bed.  I've gone through every stage of exhaustion at least twice now.  It seems a bit late in the day to try and sleep, but if I don't I think I'll collapse.  That was some serious hard work, and I am glad it's done.  Ought to play catch up for S3 in anticipation of a tutorial on Saturday, but I know I won't.  It'll take the weekend to straighten myself out.  Plus I get my reward cocktails tomorrow, so I think just going to a tutorial will be an achievement, if it happens.  That remains to be seen.  I might just close my eyes for a moment....
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Slight chicken-down (to avoid obscenities in the title)

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It isn't even midnight and I have had to consume nearly all of my earlier purchased stimulants.

I am at that stage of the assignment that I find the most frustrating.  The majority of the information is there, but in no particular order.  It's exhausting and scream-inducing; scrolling up and down the page; cutting and sticking here, there and everywhere.  It's like being back at school with a pair of scissors and a bizarre magazine, and being asked to make a sensible collage with it.  It's possible, but it's not easy.  The easy bit was picking the magazine.

This is the third and final assignment for this course, and I find the unstructured nature of it both horrific and wonderful, alternating my emotional response at various stages of the construction that is currently in progress.  I find the appendices particularly frustrating in terms of the constant scrolling up and down.  It is times like this that the benefits of hand written assignments become apparent.  It makes me far less dizzy to look at several pages side by side, than it does continually seeing words whizzing up and down a discretely flashing computer screen.  It's too late to start writing by hand now though, so don't suggest it.  Appreciated.

Twelve and a half hours.  The clock is ticking once again.

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Looming day of the deadline

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Edited by ROSIE Rushton-Stone, Wednesday, 2 Mar 2011, 11:34

Once again. 

It is as close to the zombie apocalypse as it can be without consuming the brains of those I care for.  I certainly have the distinct appearance of someone who hasn't needed to eat or drink for a few months, and being naturally very pale skinned, my hollow tired eyes that have now definitely sunk further back into my head, produce a surprisingly compelling zombie effect.

I desperately want to make a student zombie film called day of the deadline.  However, my incapabilities in the necessary resources for such a venture are so vast and far reaching, that it will never come to fruition.  I'll write the script one day, and that's as far as my talents will take me.

I couldn't sleep last night, despite being exhausted.  I was completely wired.  That comes of working all day yesterday I think.  The computer unquestionably has a notable impact on my brain waves, and too much time on it is not good for me, or others in my near vicinity.  Especially with the added pressure of a deadline.

So tomorrow lunchtime is the deadline.  I shall be working from now until then.  In anticipation I have done my study shop and now have varying forms of stimulants lying in every nook and cranny of the house.  The gig I go to as reward is next weekend - The Scoville Units again.  But I also get rewarded Friday with cocktails, which on this occasion I am more excited about.

So... stimulants, check; rewards, check; facebook checked, check; blog written, check; run out of excuses, check.  It's time for the zombie marathon.  Rock on.

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Draining

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Studying is draining.

Assignment writing is particularly draining.

I'm glad I don't generally work with a computer anymore.  I had forgotten how it makes my eyes feel; like they've been pushed further into my head and a little out to the sides.  I find myself squeezing the sides of my skull to get them back to normal.

Last assignment of the B3 course.  I'll likely get the results for no. 2 and no. 3 at the same time now, which is weird.  Gives me very little idea of how I'm going to do overall, and it is still bugging me, though of course I am very grateful that it is at least being remarked.  Although rightly so.  Still, it must be annoying for the tutor too.  I hope they're both good enough to give me an incentive for the ECA.  I'm undecided on my preference for ECAs or exams.  Exams I think are marked less harshly due to their very nature, and of course there is little need for the tedium of referencing and that sort of thing.  ECAs allow you to complete your very best work.  However, I perform under pressure, and do not perform without it.  I am always pulling all-nighters to get assignments in.  So having 24 hours instead of 3 is not hugely different.  Overall, my marks have been about 10% higher in exams than in my ECAs.  However my TMA marks have been about 15% higher than my than my exam marks, and only about 5% higher than my ECA marks.  I think in an exam, I can tell myself that it is just 3 hours of my life, and it will be over very soon, and I can celebrate and blah blah blah - I can get my head around it.  But it doesn't work the same for time periods of 2 weeks or more.  For me.

Anyway, assignment 2 is in the post, and assignment 3 is going to brave it through the computer system in a few days.  I hope it makes it through intact this time.

I'd better get on with it really.  Quick squeeze of the skull and I'm back on it...

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Wonderful

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I like to have all these little videos to watch in my breaks from studying.  This is a great place for giving me easy access to them all!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pw8ZESzpL3M&feature=player_embedded#at=21

This is for relaxation, ha ha!

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Brilliant... even if you're scared of monsters

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Edited by ROSIE Rushton-Stone, Sunday, 27 Feb 2011, 18:19

This guy is absolutely amazing.  So much so that I feel compelled to share his videos. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19pL1ti-Kcg&feature=player_embedded#at=64

I'm adding in the zombie one too so I can watch it later!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOIBXJORJCo&feature=related

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Good news, and a progress ponder

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I can send a paper copy of the assignment for re-marking.  My overall grade should be un-ruined, I hope.  It certainly can't get worse!

It got me thinking though, about what constitutes progress.  The OU has moved away from paper TMAs, to the eTMA system.  There are many clear benefits to it: not having to allow for the cost of postage, the time queueing at the post office, having to submit days in advance of the deadline in order to ensure it arrives on time, and so on.  But, when it all goes wrong, there is no way to sort the issue it seems.  So something has gone wrong with the system, resulting in half my assignment going astray.  Rather than being able to resubmit via the same system, I now have to revert to old methods.  I have to print my assignment, and post it, and my tutor will have to post it back once he has marked it.  So is that real progress? 

Say it was a new process that had completely replaced the old process.  What if we were unable to go back to the old ways?  What if the postal system didn't exist anymore; if e-mails and eTMAs and text messages and all the rest had completely replaced it?  Then the new systems would HAVE to develop further to fix the mistakes.  Take Sky TV.  We have Sky TV.  We pay a TV license as well as a Sky bill.  Normal TV is what, channels 1-5 ish?  But Sky - an improved service in terms of the number of available channels - completely replaces the normal TV.  So when our Sky box broke the other week, we didn't go back to Channels 1-5; we went to nothing.  When we have a power cut the only thing we can 100% rely on is a candle - or some form of fire.  A torch is great provided it has batteries.  When you were planning to pay a bill online, and then your bank account details are 'temporarily unavailable', you end up having to rush into town to avoid a twenty quid fine for late payment, and pay the bill face to face.  The click of a button can send information to the wrong person, or complete an unintended task.  The chances of me writing someone a letter, and then addressing it to someone else, and actually posting it, are remarkably slim compared to me doing the same thing by text message.  It doesn't, but I feel sure progress should include the ability to use the new thing to fix whatever went wrong.  Not reverting back to the thing that the new thing was meant to improve!  Wow, that sentence hardly even makes sense to me!  But I know what I mean. 

Give us 100 years and we'll all be back sitting round camp fires, producing our own food and building our own homes.  I was born 100 years too soon I think.  Fun as it is to watch the regression of a progression, I'd rather just get straight to the end point and be done with it.

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Videos for parents, SK124

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http://www.autismtransformation.com/parents/
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Wedding??

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Well well!

I got a Wedding invite from a cousin earlier this week.  I knew it was coming, but I didn't know what was coming.  It's not a Wedding day invite; it's a Wedding Festival invite.  I've never heard of anything like it.  But, for the first time ever, I'm actually a little bit excited about a Wedding!

I am festival junkie anyway, so an extra one can't do any harm.  It even says to bring wellies!!!  Apparently we camp for the weekend.  There's (and yes, I am copying this!) festival food, live music, local wine and beer, disco, open mike, story-telling, massage, duck racing, lantern making, drumming, bonfires, fireworks, chill-out tents, craic den (which on a little googling I believe to be a place to sit and engage in silly conversation, though I don't know as have never heard of it before) and 'lake and riverside entertainments'.  Oh, and speeches and a Wedding cake.  Bizarre, but brilliant. 

And, it's on my Birthday weekend.  Free partying - awesome!  Only thing is, I guess that it will mean waking up on the morning of my birthday covered in mud, sleeping in a field, with a severe hangover and a few hours on a crowded train looming ahead. 

It's nice to see that there are still a few members of my family who are up for a laugh.  I can't quite imagine how the majority are going to take the invite - it's not at all in keeping with the usual formal, dull and stressful family affairs that we are all so accustomed to. 

Anyway, rock on!!

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I could cry...

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While I was away in Bath, I got an e-mail saying my latest B3 assignment had been marked.  I check my e-mails from my phone, so I was able to go to the OU website and get my mark, but not able to retrieve the marked script.  Anyway, impatient as ever I went straight to the mobile OU website and had a look at my mark.  It was my worst mark ever, and it was a huge huge disappointment.  I felt miserable all day, and pretty pissed off at having missed out on a few good nights out in order to put a decent amount of effort into it - if you're going to do badly, you might as well enjoy yourself I figure.  Anyway, I'm back home now, and so I have been able to get the marked script back - and here the reason for my terrible grade becomes apparent - my tutor only has pages 1-7 of my assignment... pages 8-18 are all missing.  How has this happened??  It was all in one word document.  There were no zipped files or anything like that - I don't know how to do things like that.  It was all typed in one long 18 page word document.  I know I'm repeating myself, but how can this have happened.  My brain is firing crazy numbers of those electrical signals - I can't think straight.  I had got over the terrible mark over the past 24 hours, realising that it just meant there was no point in now putting any further effort in, as I cannot get a good mark, even with 100% in the next one, so I had kind of chilled with the whole thing.  But this... This is very different.  This isn't me screwing up.  This is me being screwed over.  I cannot express how awful I feel right now; I think I'm having a mini nervous breakdown.  What a ridiculous over reaction - I can see that!  But it's how I feel.  Mortified.  And I don't see how it can be rectified.  I've e-mailed my tutor, and I shall be checking my e-mails every 20 seconds until I get a reply.

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!

Life is a complete arse at times.

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Perfect day...

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Been listening to this on repeat for a good 20 minutes, and I keep failing not to smile when the backing singers sing 'reap reap reap reap', and the lad I'm minding sings along with 'beep beep beep beep - that's a lot of beeping isn't it Rosie!'... Very sweet indeed. It's been a great week; lots of visits to parks to watch trains, feed ducks and fish, swing on swings and generally find my inner child. We've bussed our way around Avon, with the much appreciated diamond travel card - even though he's not my child, this is the sort of thing that makes me ok with paying council tax. It's been a great week, but I'm not half looking forward to a glass of wine when I finish later on today! I might even start at the train station!
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Comic relief, neither in this case; irritating stress

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I forgot to put this in here on Sunday, thought I meant to. So this is for then! I have a number of charities that I give to, not to mention the food I buy for the local homeless and the baccy I buy for a friendly and non-guilt-inducing Big Issue seller. I never buy a Big Issue though; it is of no interest to me. I never give anyone money; I'd rather buy myself a drink than them. I never agree to direct debits on the street; I don't trust strangers, however bright their jacket and charity slogans may be. I never give to anyone who knocks on my door, and invades my personal space. I went into town on Sunday as I needed 3 items from 3 shops. In the first shop, I bought a pair of jeans. When I got to the till, I was first charged for a bag, which is annoying in itself. When they do that I usually ask if they have one without the shop name on it. It's lost on most people, but I resent paying for the privilege of advertising their business. I turn the bag inside out before I leave the shop. THEN, they ask if I'd like to add a pound to my bill for comic relief. Um, no I wouldn't; oddly, I just wanted to buy jeans. Then there's this uncomfortable slow passing of time, while I feel guilty as they finish off the transaction. This happened in all 3 shops! There were very clear signs by every till saying you could add the pound, and what's ironic, is that I was going to, and would have if I hadn't felt like I was being forced. I hate that. It pissed me right off, and put me in a really bad mood. Then, when I got home, my phone rang, and it was a charity, who said that as I'd given money before, they were just phoning to try and get some more. NO!! I'm not stupid!!! I know how to give money away. I don't need help with it. I know what means something to me, and I know what doesn't. Ultimately, I know my own mind, am more generous than most in my giving, and am coming close to being unreasonable to the next person who approaches me for money, not knowing that a small rage has been building for several years!!! I won't, but it actually makes me want to cancel everything I already do, apart from the real people on the street who at least get immediate benefit from a sandwich.
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ROSIE Rushton-Stone

Bath

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It's half term! A week where I temporarily become part of another family. Always a great experience! This is my favourite job, if you can call it that, of all the jobs I've ever had. So here I am in Bath, minding a very sweet lad for the week. He never fails to make me laugh... I will return home knackered, but happy. Must get back to swinging now...
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ROSIE Rushton-Stone

Status updates

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I only have 25 friends on facebook.  It fluctuates between about 20 and 29, depending on how I'm feeling, and how many people I feel I can justify calling a friend. 

Even with this small number of people, I still seem to get a lot of status updates in my news feed, and I have to wonder why the most boring people seem to update the most.  There are 3 people on my facebook who I have on there because it would have been socially unacceptable not to accept them as friends.  Those 3, and 4 of my other actual friends, constantly put up status updates that serve no purpose, such as 'just cooking dinner' or 'am off out now' or 'got loads of cleaning to do'... blah blah blah.  I really cannot see that it's worth the effort.  Anyway, as a result, my news feed is usually incredibly dull.  It gets intermittent posts from my veg people offering unusual things to do with boring vegetables; from a sweet shop in Bristol, about licorice usually; really random stuff from the OU, and from a couple of bands that I unwittingly said I 'liked' not knowing it would infringe on my news feed in this way.  I don't want to 'unlike' any of them, so I have to accept that for what it is.  This is such a long winded way of trying to get to my point it verges on afflicted absurdity, if there is such a thing.

This is the point:

When my other 17 friends plus one fully virtual friend put up a status update, it is interesting around 90% of the time.  They are either witty, bizarre, or informative.  Just now someone put up a status saying he was nearly clipped by a gigantic golden hawk. So I googled 'golden hawk bird' ('golden hawk' sadly brings up technology and car websites for the most part - oh and he was definitely referring to a bird, as talon scars were mentioned).  The first thing that comes up is ferruginous hawk.  I'm assuming this is the same thing.  Ferruginous supposedly Latin for iron-rust colour ish.  I can't speak Latin so I have to take the internet's word for it.  I can't find anywhere that says the ferruginous hawk is more commonly known as the golden hawk.  Does anyone here know anything about birds?  It's really bugging me.

Actually no, this was the point!

Even the interesting status updates often lead me into the mental forests of frustration.  So why bother complaining about the boring ones?  So I guess the point of this post is that it's pointless.  So I've just wasted a precious hour of study, what with all the googling.  When will I learn: Open the books not the laptop!!!!!

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My 44th blog entry, and why I don't speak French

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44 is one of my favourite numbers.  4 is my root favourite number. 16, 64, 256, 1024... all equally liked in second most favourite types, followed by 44, 444, 4444, 44444.... as third.  I also have to accept 31, and the years '96 and '99, in order to be comfortable with my 'being', but I don't think I need go into the reasons for that.  The reasons for the others are all quite clear. 

Anyway, this is why it stuck out like a sore thumb when I saw that I have 43 posts on here.  Numbers either side of favoured numbers are spiky and uncomfortable to my brain.

The number thing started on a very small level when I was very young.  I heard adults talking about their favourite numbers, or favourite colours, and thought 'shit!  I'd better get myself some of them!'.  I chose the number 4 because it was the only number that had the correct number of letters.  Four letters for the number 4.  My favourite colour is blue.  I don't know if that's really true, but at the time it was the only colour of the rainbow with four letters.  I'm actually fairly indifferent to colours, they're all good in different ways. 

Unfortunately, this quickly led into something of an obsession.  If you draw a 10 x 10 grid, I very much like the layout of the 4 times table.  More so than any other.  Though I have to ignore the number 2, as it is in a 4 times table column, and is the only prime number to interfere in this way.  It also led to an unreasonable dislike of certain words, which I have now pretty much overcome, such as forward, fortune,... you get the point.

Anyway, I quickly run the risk of going into too much depth here (which can get fruit-loopily out of control!), so I will move onto French.  What an unfortunate thing.  I started learning French when I was about 5 I think.  I was taught at home at that point and I had a French tutor who popped in from time to time.  She was very cool, but French was not.  As soon as I found out the French for number four.  Quatre.  NOOO!  Six letters.  The ridge that this created between me and the language was unbelievable.  I went to school at various intervals, and maintained an active dislike of languages, which gradually also spread back to English and how illogical it all seemed.  But I had no choice.  I begged to give up French consistently.  At parents evenings they'd try to find ways to encourage me - my teachers were always saying 'but she's very good at French - there's no reason for her to give it up'.  It continued all the way until my second year of GCSEs, when I eventually had a complete meltdown and refused under any circumstances to take the exam.  Everyone was pissed off (though I would feel guilty not to mention that my mum did ultimately support me in the decision, despite not fully understanding), especially my teachers, who unfortunately I gather such things reflect badly upon.  The trouble was, I had suddenly realised, that if I took the exam, it would be on my education record, and this all consuming fear took over me - that I could be forced to speak French as an adult if I had a qualification.  I am incapable of sitting an exam and intentionally failing, so that wasn't an option.  I believed (and still secretly do actually) that if there is evidence to suggest you know something of use, then it can be forced out of you if the need arises.  And I knew I didn't want to.

So there it is, since winning that battle, I have no ability to speak any other language.  I have several friends who live abroad, and most of my friends are naturally very good at learning languages, and some are are fluent in two or more.  I would like to learn in a way, as I feel a sense of embarassment at having no abilities in this area whatsoever, but even writing the sentence makes me uncomfortable.

There's another one of those weird questions that comes out of this - what would have happened if I had shared my feelings about the number four?  Could they have taught me French if they had never written '4' in letter form?  The reason I didn't share my thoughts, was because I didn't think that people did.  I thought everyone had this in-depth analysis of their favourite things, but whenever I would ask someone 'why?' - they would always say 'I just do', or 'I don't know', or 'because it's lucky' - as I saw it, very secretive responses.  I haven't actually broached the subject with anyone I know.  In fact, I think perhaps if my mum found out there may have been a way of getting me to like French she'd have a meltdown herself!

Anyway, blog number 44

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Don't worry, be... merry

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There was no need to worry about liking the minty vodka.  I absolutely do.  It's amazing.  Worryingly it has no taste of alcohol at all.  It's a deadlier version of Pimm's.  Though I don't believe (apart from a one-off misfortune at an unbelievably boring 60th) I have ever fully lost my sobriety on Pimm's, so maybe the same goes for this alcoholic childrens' drink. 

I know it works a little though because I have had zero desire to study ever since I opened the bottle.

Tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday have to be pretty dedicated though, as the following week I will be working 24/7 as a live-in buddy.  So I'm allowed to enjoy tonight.  Brilliant - I've managed to keep this excuse running for about 10 years.  Never fails to work either ;)

Happy studying virtual campers!

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Another good day

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I've just finished watching Fantastic Mr Fox.  If I had seen this film sooner, I would have used him as 'an example of an entrepreneur that I find interesting' for one of the B3 tutorial activities, but it's a little late in the day, month, year...  Thievery aspect aside; what a cool fox! 

Also, having just completely run down my spirit cupboard to a mere empty bottle collection, I was given an unexpected gift today from someone I have never even met.  A bottle of Polish mint flavoured vodka, that I am apparently to drink with apple juice.  I am more than grateful, though a little unsure about opening it, as feel a bit obligated to like it.

The weekly vegbox arrived this morning, with yet another celeriac.  We still have half of the one from last week, which was only a little smaller than my head.  If anything, that has been the main disappointment of the day, so I'm really not feeling that hard done by at all.  In fact I almost feel a sense of guilt to the celeriac for having singled it out, when in fact the endless supply of potatoes and parsnips is equally draining at times.  Please don't take it rootally.  I initially switched 'person' for 'veg' but that had an unintended rude ring to it somehow, so I switched it. 

I feel just about ready to start studying now.  Just about.

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An improvement

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By the time I'd found the S1 course book, I had lost the will to study.  So I didn't.  Sunday I decided should be a day of chilling.  Yesterday it didn't even occur to me to study.  Today I read the next two chapters of S1, and completed the iCMA. 

Now I get the rest of the night study-free, and guilt-free.  Excellent. 

From tomorrow, all the way through to March 3rd, it's B3, and B3 alone. 

Anyway, I can write on here properly when I'm supposed to be studying!  No need to keep writing on a free night!  10-minutes until the pub opens (well open to my 'good old days' mind anyway) - there is somewhere I need to be!  Shoes, coat, hat, keys, wallet, phone.... I'm off!

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Whered'd y'go?!

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Unbelievable!

I thought perhaps it was time to switch course focus, as I seem to be fast losing motivation with S3.  I'm still recovering from the B3 assignment and not in the mood to go there again just yet.  So I thought S1, some good old pressure free studying.

Well that's what I thought this morning.  I haven't looked at that course text since late January, and although I had the best of intentions, I just couldn't find the bloody text book anywhere. 

I have spent the whole day searching round the house (on and off admittedly); looking under things, on things, inbetween things; rooting through piles untouched for years, and places a study book has never come close to.  Checked cupboards, drawers, and then checked all the same places again, and again, and again.  Nothing.

Sod it!  So I thought I know!  I'll make a drink, and go and say hello to my various cyber communication pals.  And wha'd'ya know... there it was, mockingly sat there on the laptop.  ARGH! 

I'm not blind.  There are gremlins.  I'm convinced of it.

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