As mixed as a mix of mixed stuff.

Firstly, let me post this image for a competition. (We need to put the cover of Kiersten Whites new book somewhere to show it off, ahh the free publicity she'll get :D )

Secondly, is it weird that i didn't know that my phone had free msn on it? I've only had it for a year after all... :P

And thirdly, i have to copy my sister on this one and post my homework. It's just a questionnaire about landline or mobile phone use, feel free to ignore it if you wish. :)

Q1: How old are you?:
- 1-25 years - 26-50 years - 50+ years

Q2: Which of these would you prefer to use? (to contact people)
- Landline phone - Mobile phone
- Social networking site - others

Q3: How many times do you use your landline per week?
- 0-2 times - 3-6 times
- 7-10 times - 11+ times

Q4: Did you use the landline more when you were younger?

- yes - no

Q5: What improvements/changes would you make to landline phones so people would use them more? (feel free to put nothing if you dont have any ideas.)

This will be anonymous and will only be used in my english class and nowhere else. :)

Fourthly and lastly, how many of you have looked at/are going to do the A215 Creative writing course? I'm thinking of doing it, not necessarily this year cause i'm going to have a lot of uni work when it's on but what do you guys think about it?

Talk to you soon! (Hopefully) :D

Why is life so dull?

Wow, a whole week and nothing much has happened...

Oh well, i thought you deserved a post anyhow. :) And here it is!

Tada!

Yum, liquorice... I think it may actually be my favourite sweet. What's yours?

Haribo?

Boiled sweets?

Chocolate?

You ever get that feeling when you finish a series of books or a tv series?

You know, where you feel kind of sad, like you miss the 'new-ness' of the series and you want to forget it just so you could watch it all over again...

If you hadn't guessed it, then yeah: I've got that feeling.

Damn 'Alice' and its awesomeness.

Talk to you later, hopefully not a whole week later though. :)

Over and out.

Mirror Mirror...

You know when you look at yourself in a photo you automatically go 'eugh'?

No, you say? Well, i suppose it's not everyone, but if you do then have you noticed something?

If you look at the photos long enough, you do actually think you look better after a while.

If you haven't guessed then yes: I have been staring at photos of myself. But it's not what you think! We had a photographer take some family photos of us and looked at them for an hour today. He took some really nice ones too.

Also, the second half of 'Alice' was sooooo awesome! I am now in LOVE with Hatter. Too bad he's married in the real world...sigh. Can't have everything. ;)

I'm hoping this blog will be more about writing later on when something happens.

So far i've only had one short story published, and that's in a small, obscure book called 'Write On' only on amazon.co.uk which is a mix of short stories from a writing competition.

I came 10th. :)

I might get this photographer to do my author picture when i eventually *cross fingers* get published... A girl can dream.

The end of an era...

So, my OU course is over.

Weird, it felt like it should have lasted longer... i suppose it was only a few months.

Hey, i learnt a tonne, and that's the most important thing.

For example, i learnt that i now don't completely detest writing in first person. I suppose this blog is one example of this, huh.

Why don't i post an example of my writing exploits you say? Well, because you asked so nicely: Be aware, i have dated the time i wrote this so it is essentially copyrighted so don't try stealing it. *Wags finger in a shameful way*

* * * * * * * * * * *

Her tiny chubby arms reached out to him, grasping the air with such desperation. He smirked and stroked her blonde hair; such tiny wisps. She fit perfectly in her mother’s arms, as if she was made for them, which, her mother supposed, she may have been.

The blanket the nurses had wrapped her in was so plain; just a pale pink to match the paleness of the hospital room: from the white bed in the centre of the room to the cold, white tiles on the floor and walls, it was bland. He couldn’t wait to get his little girl back to their home and dress her in one of the many little outfits their friends had bought for her. Her mother felt the same, on a subconscious level, but at that moment all she could do was stare into her little creation’s eyes and see the reflections of the harsh neon lights in them. Her blue eyes transformed them into starlight.

When they were out of that hospital room and back home, she twirled the baby around her new bedroom, the pictures of her family and friends blurred in the background, melting into the lilac shade of the walls.

Soft toys seemed to be the present of choice as her cot was full of them; yellow bears, pink rabbits, and grey elephants. Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her close, surveying the room, a smile glued to his face.

‘Welcome home, Isabelle.’ Her mother whispered.