Physics and Photoshop

It's been another long week, and all I've done all week is upset people. Never fun.

I headbutting Katie was too far, but every one else asked for it. Especially Amelia, who spent a large part of Thursday night's drama session complaining about her throat herpes. Bugger off.

We're at the last weekend before science exams. Biology first. I must remember to choose the stupid answers, as they seem to be the right ones - "She remembers she needs to turn left when she smells the sweet factory." This woman should not be allowed to drive.

Physics and Biology are looking fair, but Chemsitry will be a total blag. This is not entirely my fault. It's more the fact that half the subject hasn't been taught to us. Between a revision session with another teacher and the godsend of CGP revision guides, Rupert and I learnt more about atoms and the like than we've been taught so far this academic year - and we're about half way through it.

I've finally got round to improving some photos in Photoshop - mainly because DI are madly booked for February and I'll never get time if I leave it much longer. I should probably start with the Fiona pictures from Halloween, but I got so sidetracked with my robins this morning I lost an hour somewhere...

I'm not complaining, I'm actually quite pleased with some of my pictures. Which is good for my morale, because Kenneth has been sat in his bag for a week, all dejected. But this is not a pleasant time of year to be outside taking pictures.

My LeCAP form is nearly complete - I'm applying for Leicester and Brooksby Melton. I've also put in for Lutterworth's Post-16, with my choices made in three minutes flat on Friday morning...followed by a classic "Oh, Bollocks!" moment when Dave pointed out it needed to be signed by my parents. Morale of the story, kids, is deadlines are not the time to be doing your application forms...

Best of luck to everyone who're taking exams in the next two weeks x

The Tale of The Week

Hullo.

Firstly an apology - there have been no posts this week. This has been entirely down to the fact that I am now back to the daily grind at Lutterworth. So here, I'll sum up basically what happened during this week...

Monday - Fiona came early, fell asleep in my bed. Visited Thomas Estley to look at light/sound boards for MASOD Show in Feb. Piece of piss. Seeing Michelle Saturday to sort out technical details. Fell off bike on Swannington Road. Saw the film "Nine". It wasn't much to write home about.

Tuesday - Back school. Mediocre day, nice to see everyone again. Double Mulla. Snow starts to fall. Abi's birthday. Got slapped.

Wednesday - Take camera to school and take snowy pictures during registration. Very cold. Snow is starting to cause trouble. Pass chemistry test at B without revision - high mark compared to class.

Thursday - Snow continues. Ice starts to form - big boots on. Spend the morning learning French Controlled coursework. Fail French coursework. Mrs S in good mood - scary. Big fight between chavs and Indians - resembling 80s Bradford. Received correct course code from Leicester College. Croft Players rehearsal moved to pub - enough thespians to go ahead with show. Very happy. Followed by poor signing as Vicky forgot lyric sheets.

Friday - Perks [rightly] outraged by race riots. Bans snowballing. Effective punishment - not been hit by ice all day. Gave Abi her birthday present from the Emerald Isle. Wore six layers at one point. Failed at Badminton. Mrs S still in relatively nice mood - Codd disagrees. Snow continues to fall as Britain is rendered useless by powdery white stuff. Talk of grit running out. Methinks snowday on Monday. Spent the last four hours drinking wine and photoshopping the Croft Silver Band pictures.

Not a good week, but not a bad one....

Happy New Year

New Year's Eve is excellent if you're grumpy like me. I started this year drunk, and I intend to stay that way for as long as feasible...literally. I got up and had a Guinness. NYE = Excuse for a party. Cue Hannah. So here's the story of my passage into 2010...

Thursday morning, bright and cheery. I got out of bed at 8:55am, knocked on Hannah's door at 9am. With her brilliant Mum Sophie driving we went to a local supermarket and stocked up on party food and drink. We got back and started clearing space and making the house a little more party wise, under the watchful eye of the three cats which, incidentally, hate me.

I headed home at 11:15am and did a bit of hoovering for Mum, before heading back around the corner at noon with the sound kit. Several trips and a hand from Hannah soon moved various amplifiers, cables and speakers the short distance from my abode to hers. She did get sent back for Wilde (my iPod) as I'd forgotten it and can't soundcheck using the rubbish she has on hers...

I attempted multi-tasking and more or less pulled it off. The bass amp got wired up outside first, followed by a little bit of DIY to affix a plastic sheeting cover over the little outside area we'd created. Meanwhile, Hannah and Jess painted a bedsheet with the words "HAPPY NEW YEAR" on, which held some balloons to the ceiling which we let down at midnight. Cleverly, they'd managed to paint through the sheet and onto the wall it was pinned to. We laughed, Ryan arrived, more balloons got blown up, Sophie and I started on the Baileys and Take That were played as I carried on rigging the sound system, aided by pins, tacks, velcro ties, duct tape and of course my trusty hammer.

Ryan and I made a visit back to mine about 4pm to pick up an airbed and a gazebo. Then Jess and I came and picked up the computer which would be central to the night's sound system. Hannah and Ryan then came and picked up some fairy lights, and then a large amount of alcohol that David had dropped off. Slowly but surely, the whole system got wired, nailed down and then gaffa taped in place for good measure.

Cue some guests. The party got started, the booze started flowing, and by half ten chaos had erupted. This was mainly the fault of people who aren't used to drinking, drinking. Lots can be said and none of it is necessary, really, but everyone calmed down a bit and sorted each other out. Josh was on tea duty and I had two cups in five minutes, then Ella was sick all over my hands. Pleasant. However, a special mention is necessary for my good friend Joseph. Director of Photography for the British Young Photographers Association. Instrumental in the way the DI business works. A truly great friend. Not a great drinker. Not at all.

Anyhoo, we got things somewhat back on track by 11:50pm, and those that could still stand gathered in Sophie's front room to count down the seconds to 2010, aided by Big Ben on the television. And of course followed the greetings and kissing, and then a very shouty and un-lyrically-correct version of Auld Lang Syne. I then checked on Joseph who had taken refuge in the attic room, where I had designs on the bed... These plans were later flattened when Ella decided she was sleeping there. With my quilt.

After the pleasantries were appropriately and politely dealt with, I led a troop up to Charmaine's house where my Mum, Dad and sisters were celebrating. There were quite a few of us that went, and to be honest I don't really remember too much about who went, but I know that Josh and Lily did...we got back, did a tad more people-dealing, a spot more Joseph-checking and then went for a walk with Katie Lock.

Now, this didn't yield a lot more than hypothermia and for some reason we walked down a dead end street. And we played on the park, on the swings...then Lock magically got tripped up. Anyway, I'd had enough for all my memories from now onwards to be a little fuzzy around the edges, but there's not a lot a don't remember. I eventually slept beside Joseph.

The morning after the night before, and Henry got a bit stroppy before eventually buggering off out of everyone's hair. Josh made me a lovely coffee, milk, two sugars, and I surfaced to find the house in fair shape. Which meant Sophie was up already. Sean and David had disappeared, having cycled to McDonalds to get their breakfast. I was in awe for the rest of the day that they were open! I opened my last can of Guinness. Cue a bit of Facebook and a bit of Guitar Hero as our worse-for-wear guests cleaned up and shipped out. The grand operation of unwiring our lovely events venue then came about but I gave up after a short while and we watched Part One of the last Tennant Doctor Who episode on iPlayer.

The morning rolled into the afternoon and the sound system came apart and got put in the box, ready to go back home. Fiona made her way home and we moved the kit back round to my house, leaving me, Hannah, Jess and Ryan to have dinner and then kill a couple of hours before Dr Who Part Two. It was a lovely end to a lovely couple of days, and thanks and well done to Hannah, Soph and the cats for putting on a great night.

Happy New Year, best wishes to everyone and I hope 2010 is a prosperous and happy year for you all...

Get Some Guttering

Yesterday, we went to Leicester to see a film. I shan't name the film, but it's about three singing chipmunks, one of which is called Alvin. It was the second one, and I rather, liked it's predecessor. Sean claimed it was Lou's fault we were seeing it...

So, firstly I had to catch a bus. This, in my world, is a dangerous and risky task involving murdering drivers and shifty-eyed members of the public. And Joseph, usually.

(Although, a couple of weeks ago I had to take a bus to Lutterworth all by myself in pursuit of a rogue SD card. Without Joseph I was a bit scared, so got on dead early when there were few other people on the bus. I had to have a cream cake with Ellie just to be brave enough for the trip home)

Now, I managed to walk the 149 miles to the Warwick Road stop and co-ordinated my bus-boarding with the others so that we got on the same 84 to Leicester. Win. David, Nathan, Sean and Joseph were already on the bus, and so was Jesus.

The trip into Leicester was fairly uneventful I didn't get shot at or spat upon. We then ran across the Aylestone Road with me in heels. Fail. We bought out tickets from a weird little bloke without a real name, and then went over to Morroways to stock up on cheaper-than-cinema food. After a few minutes of fun with a Self-Checkout Machine and an oh-too-happy-to-help attendant, we left Morroways stuffing various items of confectionery products into inside pockets and, in the case of a rather firm tube of Pringles, down my jeans.

We successfully smuggled our haul into the cinema and settled down to watch the film.

IT WAS SHITE.

Joseph pointed out there were only three funny parts to the film and he was spot on. If it wasn't for my Pringles, Jelly Beans, Mint Cremes and Liquorice Toffees, I probably wouldn't have enjoyed it very much either.

I've just discovered that my cousin of six years also went to see it, and "enjoyed it." Enough said really, and Sean - or Lou - shall not be allowed to choose the film in future. Thank you very much.

After the film, we walked through the sleet to St Margaret's Station. Our first stop along the route was behind some blue bins at the Tiger's Stadium on Welford Road, hiding from Joseph who had ran off to recover some money that was owed to him by a tramp near the LRI. The rain was pouring, and was dripping in "litres" according to David. Several of these huge droplets fell on Sean's head, leading to disgruntled shouts about the need for guttering on the new stand...

A bit of a run through Granby Halls Car Park and a back track towards the Toyota garage followed in search of Squidders, but we didn't find out if he got his money back. We then took the second leg of our walk, which terminated at a McDonalds on Horsefair Street.

A bit of dawdling down to Town Hall Square revealed something just shocking. There was a display in which ratty weasle things had guns and bum sex, but there was someyinh more shocking...in the stable, JESUS HAD GONE! Thank God David still had the little model Jesus from the bus in his pocket...

Then we made the final epic trek through dangerous light snow and hazardous little breezes to the Bus Station, where there were a large number os half-dressed young girls, escorted by a bunch of chavs. Oh yes, m'dears, welcome to nightclub country. Being teenage boys, we started a 1-10 rating system, with points being deducted for glasses, limping and wearing tablecloths or curtains.

We caught the bus home sodden and bitchy - David brought up Love Actually comments and then I nearly got murdered by some Broughtonite tosser that Nathan assured me was "a twat." Nathan's semi-Northern mother gave me a lift home from David's, where we'd sheltered in his extraordinarily long kitchen from the snow that had stopped outside...

Cheese on Crackers

It's dead annoying when you think you've got something sussed, only to realise that in fact, you're talking bollocks.

Take today for example. I paid Hannah a visit to have a look about the house and work out how I'm going to wire the New Year's Eve sound system. Turns out that in actual fact what I'd originally planned is total rubbish, wouldn't work and had to be rethought.

Bugger.

Of course I did come up with a plan, only half convinced it's going to work, but I've given myself a whole seven hours to rig the place, so there shouldn't be any problems by the time the guests arrive at 7:30pm...

What did distract me was Jess, deciding that she was a photographer and stealing Kenneth. White Balance wasn't feeling to Automatic, so I set him to shoot in Monochrome and let her play. She wasn't too bad, I suppose. I quite like this shot of Hannah...

There's often a good reason to remove colour from a photograph, and this is one of them. A lovely candid caught particularly well. B+.

I'm now sat, bored, eating cheese on crackers. I'm not supposed to eat because of my anti-spottyfuck tablets, but nuts to it. I like Mexican cheese. I like crackers. I even like the bit of butter in between.

I guess I'll just have to be a spottyfuck.

Merry Christmas

Christmastime. No Mistletoe or Wine but 2 hours of Take That's live show at Wembley and several beers.

Excellent. At 16, the excitement of Santa and snow doesn't really work (unless you're Ellie, in which case I'm sorry) and it takes a bit of alcohol to actually get into the mood. Or maybe it's just me and my Grumpy Lumpyness. To be fair I spent most of the morning reading Dara O'Briain's new book about the English, from an Irish point of view. It's really funny. Also, Santa Amy brought me Katherine Jenkin's Ultimate Collection, which is rather good for a Welshie. Bryan Adams' Everything I Do in Italian, opera style...sounds like it'd be crap but actually she's amazing.

I've also been given two massive canvas prints of art Volkswagen camper vans. Excellent - now, where am I going to put them...methinks Pop-Art-Elvis is going to be evicted from the stairs.

Anyway, Top of the Pops is a tradition in our house, more so than the Queen's Speech. I think that Liam's team were in charge of snow - they did go a little over the top and use it for literally every bloody act. And Muse were out of place. Mother decided to slag of Florence & The Machine, almost certainly because she's old and grumpy.

Now we know where I get it from.

Boxing Day looks to be slightly sunnier. We're eating duck, early, because Dad's going to work early. Early for us on a Saturday, anyhow...

Righty-ho, enjoy Boxing Day, all x

Batman and Robins

Think Pogues.

It was Christmas Eve, babe, and in a forest, two photographers, took pictures of robins...

Almost. Well, we had a lovely morning shooting today, on Christmas Eve. Squidders popped himself on my doorstep for about 9:10am and after a brief moment admiring each other's new Lowepro bags, we walked the short distance past the Blitz rock, over the bridges, past the pub and the church (in Ireland they're the same thing) and up into the same bit of footpath that Henry and I walked yesterday.

It was blooming freezing. So much so that droplets of water had frozen to a branch. This provided the first oppourtnity for us to whip out the cameras. Joseph [Squidders' real name, for newbies] has the Lowepro Slingshot AW300 which in theory should allow him lightning fast access to his camera. The design is flawed by the fact that his head gets in the way when pulling his bag over his shoulder...

I smugly pulled Kenneth from his new bag, the Lowepro Fastpack 250. We had a bit of an argument about the usual things - white balance, shutter speed and Nikons. I remembered what I learnt from the incident with the robin yesterday and told the camera to always use the centre focus point, not guess at which one I'm trying to use. The Tamron lens is a bit slow and fussy when it comes to focussing, but I nailed a pretty nice shot of the branch...

I win. Anyway, we calibrated the cameras and I dialled in a shutter speed of 1/125 which actually worked out pretty well with some of the later exposures. We caught sight of a couple of birds but it was only until we got to the path up to the hill that I got anything remotely decent...

Epic win, I even danced at Squidders who was a little way off. Silent dancing of course, we wouldn't want to disturb the birdies. We then paced up and down the path, which slopes up to the first stile to the hill from the Croft side. The robins came and went, and after yesterday it was one of them that I really wanted to get and get right. A lot of patience and careful management of the odd-focussing Tamron lens led to a couple of really close shots of some pretty robins...

We eventually got disturbed by a group of runners and then the loudest children in the entire country, so we buggered off further around the base of the hill, eventually putting the cameras away to climb up this really steep, icy, dodgy bit of slope. We sat atop the hill, chatting shit and looking out over lovely hazy Leicestershire that stretched out in every direction...

Our attention was caught by a mountain biker, who had cycled the entire way up Croft Hill. Bloody idiot. Then a jogger ran past, slipping slightly as he ran down the other side of the hill. The cyclist turned and went the other way - straight down the dodgy bit we had just climbed. Brave bloke. We stood there talking about bananas, and Joseph then noticed the cyclist bloke out on the other hill, right round near Huncote! Brave bloke!

Then the jogger went past again, this time falling flat on his arse as he descended the hill. We laughed, naturally...

This was the scene from the top of the hill, looking towards what I believe to be Broughton Road in Croft. Pretty misty, we mused. Then the jogger ran past again, this time choosing to run back down the hill on the slightly grippier edge. We stood and saluted the single most brave man in the county of Leicestershire. Feckin' nutter...

How Batman fits into this I'm not quite sure, but the title looks good. On the way back home, we bumped into a couple of Croftian locals. Joseph thought we were going to get mugged for a moment, before realising it was somebody he actually knew. We then went ice skating with them, and I decided to try and crack the ice. I even tried bunny-hopping through it on a scooter the Croftians had stolen, to no avail. Joseph was getting a bit worried for my safety, especially as large cracks had formed, spider-web style around the epicentre of my jumping.

As we were coming off the ice, a broken bit near the edge showed us that it was a good four or five inches thick...my jumping was a pointless waste of energy, I'd have never gone through that...

It's Christmas tomorrow, lads. Have a good one...Beannachtaí na Nollag xx