Posts Tagged ‘Uni of Bolton’

5 months to be exact!

I’ve certainly been a little rubbish in the upkeep of this blog! I think it became one of those things where it had been so long since I wrote something, that I found it a little too easy to keep putting it off as it had already been so long anyway.

So, sorry about that, dear readers. I will certainly be making a much better effort to be updating this regularly- I miss blogging!

Well, since I last wrote a post, quite a lot has happened! In the time I’ve been gone, I’ve completed my degree, graduated and moved out of my student house and into Manchester. So, in my very weak defence, I have been busy!

I think this post is lacking in some colour, so let’s throw in some photos of the above events. Let’s start with mine and my boyfriend’s graduation!

Dom's graduation!

Dom’s graduation!

My graduation with my nutcase of a sister and brother in law!

My graduation with my nutcase of a sister and brother in law!

My graduation! (This isn't my 'final' professional photo by the way- just one my boyfriend took as I was posing!

My graduation! (This isn’t my ‘final’ professional photo by the way- just one my boyfriend took as I was posing!

So, that was a pretty big thing! A few other big things happened in the time that I’ve not blogged for (turning 22, meeting one of my best friends for the first time in seven years!) but I think I will leave some of that for the next post! (Let’s not dry up all my subjects too quickly!)

Oh, and for anyone who may be wondering, I graduated with a very high 2:1 (as in, a few points from a 1st) in Photography and Creative Writing. 🙂

Well, that’s it for now! Just a quick little update! It’s good to be back!

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It’s come to my attention that I have now not written a blog for well over a month. Whoops.

The main reason for this is the amount of work I’ve had on with my degree. I’m studying a joint honours BA in Photography and Creative Writing. This semester, I’ve had two photography modules and one poetry module.
For one of my photography modules I was expected to create an entire book of 18 individual concepts within a time frame of approximately nine weeks. Pretty tall order, as I had another two modules to find time for too.
However, I’ve done it! I’ve sent my book to be bound now, and I’ve finished shooting for my other module too! So now, I can finally focus on my journal works and essays. Those, for me, are easier to do as they are less time consuming.
I sent my book to be bound last night, and I breathed a massive sigh of relief. However, it won’t be delivered until the 18th… which kind of sucks as I need to hand it in before then. I’m hoping I won’t be down-marked for that though; my tutor said that as long as we all have receipts to show we ordered it before the deadline then it is fine.
The theme I chose was to transform each poem I have written into a photo. It actually worked out pretty well to be honest. My photos translated really well.

I have about two weeks left of this semester now before we break up for Christmas; that means two weeks of trying to find the money to pay for presents and travel and all sorts of things- that’s another thing that makes university a pain in the ass; the amount you have to spend! I’m paying almost 4,000 a year for my degree, another 50 a week in rent, plus bills etc… all without a job or any kind of government help. Plus as a photography student I have a lot of supplies needing to be bought- the book alone cost me 30 and my other final piece will cost another 20 minimum. Then there’s 40 each time my printer runs out of ink- which is does very often as I have to print out every single thing I shoot… Sigh.
Next semester I will be working though. I wanted to work two jobs but my boyfriend has more of less forbidden me to do that as he thinks I will run myself into the ground with the stress of it. To be honest he may be right- a joint honour degree means I have twice the work load most have anyway, and I get the least financial help.

Next semester should be easier- the work load won’t be as intense, and having a job will help with financial problems.
2012 has been a really hard year for various reasons; it’s also been an awesome year, thanks to spending it with Dom.

Here’s hoping 2013 has some cool shit to offer me too. 😉

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So I’m now in my second year at uni, and already my mind is wandering to the possibilities that lie after graduation. Will I get a job? Will I like my job? Will it end up being anything to do with my degree?
All of these thoughts are starting to swarm, along with an overwhelming sense of pressure to “do” things.

One of my biggest fears is to die having not done any of the things I always say I’ll “one day” do.
Get a book published, have a job I enjoy, travel, see the world, live somewhere new… just to SEE things, and DO things with my life.

I was talking with my friend over a Starbucks yesterday, and we were talking about her great grandfather who had lived till he was 113. She told me about how she’d listened in awe when she was younger to his stories and the things he’d experienced. She said that she wants one day to be the one with a century worth of viewing the world and how it changes.
I mentioned how it was a shame that our species have such short life spans. The average life expectancy in the UK (as far as I’m aware) is 80. In the grand scheme of things, that is not very long at all.
As I mentioned this, I realised something; I’m 20 already. That leaves me with maybe 60 years left on average. That kind of terrified me.
I’m 20 and I feel I’ve experienced and achieved almost nothing. I always aspire to do so much more than I end up seeing through. And I want that to change.

Dom and I are thinking of moving when we graduate. Maybe to Canada.
When he mentioned this to me I was slightly stunned, and instantly thought of all the reasons I couldn’t do that.
Now I’m only thinking “why should those stop me?”

I want to see the world right? I want to experience new places and cultures right? I don’t want to miss opportunities or chances. I want to LIVE life, rather than just imagine it.

So why the hell not? Yeah, go on then. I’ll move to a foreign country. I’ll travel on a whim. I’ll try new things.
You know why? Because maybe if I’m very lucky, one day I’ll be the one inspiring my great grandchildren to have their own century of stories to tell.

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So we moved into our house a week ago now, and since we moved in, we’ve caused our landlord a fair amount of grief, including calling him in over problems with sanitation and cleanliness in the house, issues with billing and various other issues… however I think we may have topped it all with accidentally calling the police on him within the first week of living here.

Now, I know you must be thinking “How the hell could you ‘accidentally’ call the police on someone?” and let me assure you, there is a genuine reason behind this mistake. And yes, it was a mistake.

As I’ve mentioned, we’ve had a few issues with the house. One of these is the way that most of the things in the house have not been fitted correctly; basically the owner of this house did a very cheap job on it despite being perfectly able to afford to fix things correctly. A brief summary of some of the things he has done a botch job on include;
– The carpets being stapled to the floor several inches away from the edge. Yes, really.
– The shelf in the shower cubicle being fixed into place with a rusty nail and a hole in the tiles for a wall plug. (This one particularly amused me.)
– The edge of the shower basin being covered up not with poly filer, which would have been a very simple, cheap and quick solution to a crack, but instead covered over with duct tape.
– The general state of the house when we moved in. Mould in every single bedroom being one of the more minor issues here.
– The landlord providing us with a miniature dryer, yet no washing machine… this one confuses me beyond belief.

There is more, but I’m sure you get the point. Now I should get to the botch job in question, and the culprit behind this mishap. The bedroom doors are not accurately fitted to the frames. While in two of the bedrooms, this is just a minor irritation more than a pressing problem, in my house mate Steph’s bedroom, it went one better and was so badly fitted to the frame (not to mention that the handles on either side of the door weren’t the same as each other… as tends to be the norm for handles on the same door) that is actually jammed her into her bedroom. 

So after a night of the four of us watching a few films with dinner, we headed for our bedrooms. Steph, after entering, pulled the door shut behind her, only to find that when she wanted to open it again, the handle wasn’t activating the mechanism inside the frame to open the door. 
Dom, Matt and myself then spent the next hour trying to open the door from the outside, while she pulled from the inside, to no avail. We took off the handle, we pushed it, kicked it… nothing. We were starting to think we had no choice but to kick the door down to get her out. 

Now, as you can imagine, a week after moving into a new house, we weren’t too keen on the concept of damaging a door of the rented property perhaps beyond repair, and then being forced to cover the costs of this damage that was the landlord’s responsibility in the first place. So we decided that before resorting to breaking down her door, we should call the non-emergency fire service number for advice on what would be the best course of action.

We got through to the police service, who after lecturing us on “this isn’t really a police matter” eventually listened to us stating that we wanted to speak to the fire service, no the police service (the reply to which was slightly sheepish), passed us through to the fire department, who said that they would contact our landlord, and if he did not respond, they would send someone down to break the door down. 
A few minutes after this, we got a call back from the operator, who sounded very embarrassed, and explained that for some unknown reason, the police, who evidently decided that this was a job for them, not for the people from whom we’d requested help, had taken over the case and had called the landlord on our behalf, rather than the fire service, as we had wanted.

So, cue a very nervous and irritated looking landlord arriving at our house at 12.30 am with a box of tools, because his tenants of just over a week, had called the police on him, because a door had gotten stuck.

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I moved into my new house for the second year of University 6 days ago now. Already some issues with the place have cropped up, such as the house being so beyond filthy when we moved in that we had to spend 3 days doing nothing but cleaning before we were able to even unpack anything, and the drains needing to be looked at by a plumber… However, as Dom and I have now effectively moved in together and are sharing a room, we managed to persuade our house mate Steph to swap rooms with us as she had the biggest room and yet is only a single person. 

Other than the general condition of the house and the silly mistake of bargaining away ALL of the furniture in our room to acquire a decent size bedroom, its been nice to actually be all moved in and settled. I’ve finally sound a solution to the ‘no furniture’ problem with my clothing too so finally feel nice and organised. 

The only thing to think about now is getting through the next few weeks on the money I have remaining after paying for cleaning products to sort out the state of the house that shouldn’t have been our job to do anyway, before our loans come through on the 17th. Also need to take it up with the landlord various issues we found with the house when we moved in, including mould in most rooms, the general condition of the house and the fact that there is a weird smell coming from the drains that will not budge, so we need a plumber in. I hope he won’t be difficult with it.

I feel happier now we’re all settled in now though. I feel like I can start getting into a good routine again with things. Its nice to be living back with friends again, I prefer being self sufficient to living under another’s roof by far. I’m too independent to not live in my own environment at this point I think. 

I’ve become worryingly addicted to scented candles now as well, I can’t seem to help myself if I walk past some, I just want to buy ALL OF THE CANDLES! Probably my desperation to extinguish any bad smell remaining in this house to be honest.

Next week my sister is coming to visit which will be awesome. So next mission is to tackle the spare room ready for her to come and stay in. We also need to be fully sorted out by the 29th as we are hosting a massive house warming which I am really looking forward to, as not only do I get to have my friends up who I’ve not seen in ages, but Dom’s best friend Hollie is able to come as well, and I can’t wait to meet her. 🙂

Right now, life is going alright. I hope it continues to go well. 🙂

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*Picture Unrelated. It’s just fluffy and cute. 🙂

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I’ve kinda lagged a bit with the blogging recently. The last blog I wrote was weeks ago. I’ve had a bit of a writers block; in all respects. I’m gonna force myself out of it with another Life in Letters.

Right, the letter ‘M’.

The thing I will talk about today is Manchester.

A year ago I moved to Bolton, a town in Greater Manchester. I grew up in West Yorkshire, Hebden Bridge, and my sister and I spent a lot of our time in Manchester at Afflecks, the Arndale, The Northern Quarter, etc. I probably even met my now boyfriend when we were kids both hanging out in Manchester, and just never knew it. (:

I was so happy when I finally made the move up nearer my now favourite city. I truly feel at home in Manchester, and though my house in technically only on Greater Manchester, I still visit the city every week, and I’ve been primarily only living in the city for the entire of the summer.

It’s the most amazing place. And it’s so nice to finally have a place I can call ‘home’ and genuinely love to live.

I expect that once I’m done with University, I will move into the city centre. I doubt very much that I will return down south to Oxford.

I love Manchester!

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If Love was a currency, I’d be the richest man on Earth.

My boyfriend just came out with that. ❤

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Warning: I will be talking about the plot in this review, so if you don’t care for spoilers, don’t read until after you’ve seen it. If you’ve already seen it, or if you simply don’t care for the film, go ahead and read.

Before even seeing the film, I’ll admit, I was skeptical. Why? Because Kristen Stewart stars as the main role. And as far as I’m concerned, any film with her in at all, never mind being the starring role, is never the set up for a good film. However, the trailer convinced me that perhaps the story behind it, and the supporting actors could turn it around and make it a worth while watch.
After having watched the film, I came to one very firm conclusion: This is a badly written film, disguised with good graphics and effects to make it appear to be a good film.
The film itself, looked very good. Visually, it was wonderful. Everything else? Fell flat. Very flat.

The beginning was good- I enjoyed the first 20 or so minutes thoroughly, and I dared to hope that this film would prove my skepticism wrong. The film looked good, thus far the acting was good, and even Kristen Stewart’s slightly off British accent hadn’t completely ruined the entire thing. So far, so good. Dark, sadistic, disturbing, and just mild enough to keep its 12A rating.
However, it wasn’t long before Stewart began to regain the classic qualities that make my regard for her “acting” stoop to between poor and horrific. No change in facial expression, too much “breathy” talking, one tone of voice, regardless of situation, and strange, stiff movements. That and painfully unconvincing attempts at portraying different emotions (probably due to the one tone of voice and no change in facial expressions).

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Besides the flawed acting abilities of the “fairest of them all” (just me, or did the Queen really have nothing to worry about in comparison?), the writing of this film is what really let it down. There were some really interesting ideas in the film, that brought new life into the well known tale, but they were simply brushed over, and never looked at again, leaving the potential hanging in the air untouched. Instead, the writing seemed more focused on showing random, out of sequence events all surrounding the protagonist, and ultimately leading to a very anti climatic ending.

The star of the show was undoubtedly the Queen, played by Charlzie Theron. She was dark, threatening, beautiful- everything the character required, and more. Plus her performance outshone every other actor effortlessly. I’ve gotta say, Charlzie does “evil” very well.

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There were several things I particularly had a problem with in the film- I’ll run through them one by one.

1) This is in regard to the costumes. For the most part, they were good. They suited the characters and they worked in the grand scheme of things. There was one thing that totally baffled me though- Snow White enters the film wearing a long tradition but dirty dress. In the forest, it becomes obvious that underneath this very traditional dress, she also happens to be wearing… trousers? Tight black trousers? I mean, am I nit-picking here, or did this really confuse anyone else too?

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2) The strange love triangle they seemed to be trying to include (because apparently Stewart won’t be in a film now unless there’s a really weird, inexplicable three way relationship with her in the middle of it all), between The Huntsman (that’s another thing- he’s never given a name. He’s just “The Huntsman”. Seriously. He’s even credited as such at the end.) Snow White, and some kid she used to know called William, the son of the Duke (another character not worthy of a name other than his title). Not only is this triangle really, really weird (The Huntsman has to be at least 20 years older than her in this, right? And as for William? Well… they haven’t seen one another in 10 years in the film… and yet when they meet again they’re inexplicably in love?), but it simply doesn’t go anywhere. It’s utterly bizarre. The writers touched on this concept, and then decided just to leave it there. They didn’t conclude it, they never explained it, and they never developed any of the characters far enough to even make the audience care enough to want to find out. (This means, by the way, please please PLEASE don’t attempt a sequel…)

3) This one is a carry on from my last point; the character development. Or lack of. Seriously, there is none, whatsoever. No character in the entire story stays for long enough to have any kind of identity. And the ones who do stay around are so incredibly one dimensional they belong in a 90’s video game. And for some reason, the writers decided to try to big up some of the characters that served little to no purpose to the entire film by concluding it with them all alive and well. As if the audience ever knew enough about them in the first place to care. Le sigh.

4) And finally, it was far too long. The film was 2 hours, 7 minutes long. And nothing happened in it. The beginning was good, then there was 2 hours of useless filler and no direction at all, and then there was a really rushed final 20 minutes to conclude the entire thing? What? Come on, director, come on.

Overall, I was disappointed by the film. It had great potential, some fresh ideas, and one good performance, which unfortunately, wasn’t enough to save it. I’m amazed that they managed to ruin such a good idea, with such promising concepts, but it all just fell flat. Bad writing, bad acting and bad direction.
4/10.

Oh, and Kristen Stewart? Just change careers please. Now. This clearly isn’t your calling, is it?

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Well, the first year of University is over. Dom and I have been on break now for a few weeks, and are currently house sitting for his mum. The weather’s been shocking so we’ve mainly stayed in- it’s been okay though as we’ve been baking, gaming and keeping the dog amused. He bought be Crash Bandicoot last night on Xbox and I wound up being stuck in nostalgia for a few hours while he played Minecraft. He also introduced me to Eve Online. In Eve you have a set of beginners tasks to complete in order to get to know the game, and overall contributes to your character’s skill set- the game is fairly complex, but I impressed him by completing 2 weeks worth of training in under an hour (about 25 tasks in total). 
Well… looks like it’s finally happened… I’ve become a gamer. I’ve been playing Halo, Minecraft, Blur, and now Crash again, my favourite childhood game, and Eve.

The sun is finally out today so we’re planning on going into Manchester soon to go to the cinema and get some Japanese food.

Next week we go to Oxford, yet again to house sit. Dom will get to meet most of my friends for the first time, and more importantly, my cat. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone- my best friend Tom is picking us up from the train station, and he’s the one Dom will have to impress. I can’t wait! 😀

Summer’s looking good so far. (:

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Today I was reflecting on the past year of this little adventure known as “my life”. I was thinking back to this same day, a year ago.
Where was I then? Or rather, who was I then? Well…

By the beginning of June 2011, I was at the start of the end of the worst relationship of my life. You’d have thought I’d have been ecstatic? No. The opposite. As far opposite as you can be from ecstatic, was me. As far as I was concerned, this was the end, not of the two year long hell worthy prison with the tag “boyfriend”, but of life itself.
This guy was everything to me. Poor, pitiful me. He had broken my heart countless times; hell he’d even blown his nose on it and stamped it into the ground for good measure, and yet I couldn’t help but love him.
So there I was, heart broken yet again, unable to see any way out of my self-pitying, endless torment, acting like I was the only person on the face of the entire Earth to experience such pain.

Of course, I wasn’t. Countless people have been through this- the break up you never wanted to happen, watching the other person move on without so much as a glance backward. While all you’re doing in the way of “coping” is looking through old photos, thinking nostalgically of “well… there were SOME good times?”, torturing yourself over social networking activity and trying desperately not to text/call/email. And drinking. A lot.

The self pity stopped after a few weeks and I eventually got on with my life.
This is the point where we start reflecting: If you had told me then, that in just a year’s time, I’d have a year of University under my belt, a tonne of new friends, a new relationship (and the best relationship I could ever ask for, I might add) and a life that actually feels like I’m living it, rather than just watching it pass by? I’d have never believed you. And yet here I am. Typing this. Reflecting on how much I’ve grown since then; grown up out of teenage-hood and into adulthood, and grown overall as a person.

Turns out, I could survive it. And I could even bring myself to trust someone else again, and love them even more than I’d loved previously. I could survive being a student and I could survive moving to the other end of the country, where I knew no one, completely independently.

With this growth, I’m safe with the knowledge of one certainty; if I can survive those things, how hard can the rest be?

A year ago I thought my life had come to an end. Now I know that my life is just beginning. The future’s bright, if you only open your eyes wide enough to see through the tears of the present.

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