I’d never really done anything for Burns Night before, but my year at school decided to organise a Burns supper and a ceilidh for sixth year and staff, and I went because there would be haggis and I thought it might be a bit of a laugh, though I intended to steer clear of the ceilidh dancing because I am the worst dancer in the history of the universe.

The Supper was more organised and traditional than I expected. We had Mr Haldane welcoming us, a boy called Finn piped in the haggis, Amy did the Address to the Haggis, Mr Haldane said the Selkirk Grace, and then we all went and ate some rather fantastic haggis. Well, most of us did. Those who clearly aren’t Scottish enough don’t like haggis got tomato pasta.

We got Mr Park, a PE teacher who retired last year but taught at our school for over 30 years, there to recite Tam o’ Shanter. He was quite impressive: recited all 35 stanzas from memory, with plenty of drama. Everyone was hanging on his every word, and we applauded for about ten minutes afterwards.

Our head teacher read the Immortal Memory, which was 25 minutes long and actually fairly interesting.

Then we had the toast to the lassies, which was written by the guys in my year and was about how the girls disapprove of their games in the common room. A guy called Dean read it, and he started by saying how the guys refer to the girls as “fun sponges, or banter tampons”. The look on the teachers’ faces was priceless.

But then, the toast to the lads did start with Caitlin telling the lads “You think you’re a’ that, but you’re really just twats”. So classy.

After that we had Arlene playing Burns songs on the accordion, then the vote of thanks, and then we all headed into the main hall for the ceilidh.

We had a band(well, a drummer and an accordion player), who were organising all the dances. Jayne and I just watched the first one, a Canadian Barn Dance, but then we joined in. I think we did the Dashing White Sergeant twice, the Gay Gordons, an Eightsome Reel, a massive Strip The Willow with everyone kind of going at once, and a St Bernard’s Waltz. It was actually surprisingly fun, and Jayne and I are officially the best ceilidh dancers ever. Well, we didn’t fall over, that’s a good start.
The band were quite excellent. They started everything with the traditional music, but then halfway through the second Dashing White Sergeant they switched to Poker Face by Lady Gaga, which sounds surprisingly good on an accordion. Also, part of the Strip The Willow was danced to the theme music from Pirates of the Caribbean. Which was brilliant.

Overall, it was a really good night, and it was amazing to see the whole year come together and just have so much fun. Everyone was just dancing with anyone, even if they didn’t know them or they were the same gender, and there were no complaints and everyone was happy and it was just so much fun.

Still tired from the bloody dancing though.

Worried about whether I’ll get into my first choice university, checking my emails about ten times a day.
Stressed because I still don’t know what course I’ll choose to do at university.
Worried and stressed about my prelims, which start on the first of February.
Just generally stressed about my appearance and how I’m convinced I’ve put on weight but I can’t seem to stop eating.
Worried about Chris, because he hasn’t had the easiest few days.
Worried about myself for being so tired and listless. I know it’s glandular fever, but I can still worry.
I worry a lot.

I’m also worried because every time I worry or stress about something(which is basically all of the time, except when I’m with Chris because he makes me happy), my chest hurts, and I keep getting out of breath really quickly because of it and it’s horrible because I cant breathe very deeply. So I’m worried about my body’s reaction to worry, therefore making it worse. Such intelligence.

I’m also not helping myself by gradually drinking more and more caffeine. I drink energy drinks a lot less than I used to; when I became addicted to them last summer, the withdrawal symptoms when I went on holiday were awful. I’m not increasing my consumption all that noticeably, but a can of Relentless or Red Bull here and there adds up. It’s having a stronger effect on me than usual because I have glandular fever as well(the same with alcohol: one vodka and coke at Hogmanay and I was pished oot ma face*, oops). I do worry that I’ll just gradually increase the amount of caffeine until I’m full-on addicted again by summer. I can just get Chris to come and look after me and it’ll be fine. Actually, no, that’s just an incentive to go and buy ten cans of Red Bull.

I am hoping that after my last prelim on the 8th of February I’ll calm down a bit. That’s assuming I do decently in them all, if I don’t it’ll just make everything worse. Maths may be a bit dodgy(it’s basically the same level as first-year university, I don’t have difficulty understanding any of it but there is just so much to remember), but I am working hard for the first time in my life and I think I can do all right. Here’s hoping.

*I’m the most Scottish.

Well, no, my real excuse is glandular fever because I’ve had it for months now and I’m just so exhausted, all the time. My life is so hard, I know.

I hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year though, if you celebrate it. Christmas isn’t a particularly special day to me. I get a few gifts and we have a proper family meal in the dining room(goose this year), but it’s not something I get excited for or that I couldn’t live without. We never do anything at all for New Year, except another proper family meal.

That changed for me this year though. You see, Chris and I had wanted to spend New Year together since about September: we wanted to go to Edinburgh and watch all the fireworks across the city from up a hill, then go back to his flat and stay there until the 2nd of January, since there are no trains on the 1st so I’d have no way of getting home. That would have been quite amazing, but my mother didn’t really like the idea.  I can see why. She’d met Chris about once when I asked her, and the idea of her sixteen-year-old daughter going to stay for two nights with her twenty-year-old boyfriend, who lives alone, on the other side of the country…it isn’t surprising that she said no. Imagine if she knew that Chris is really 23, I’d probably never be allowed near him again.
However, my friend Apryl, who lives in another village about two miles from me, asked on Boxing Day if I wanted to go to her house on Hogmanay, and said that Chris was welcome too. So I thought about it, and then I went and asked Mum if Chris could stay here for two nights, and she had absolutely no problem with the idea. So the two of us got to see in the New Year together, only instead of up a hill we were in Apryl’s living room with some of my friends being quite drunk. I learned that night that you aren’t supposed to drink when you have glandular fever because it turns you into the biggest lightweight in the world. But look, Chris and I are the cutest.

Although I was really quite drunk when that was taken.

But having Chris here for that long was nice.

Yesterday ten of us all went to Pizza Hut for my friend Jayne’s 17th, and we all had a laugh. Once everyone else had gone home I went to Starbucks with Chris, and since he was planning to get the train here to see me tomorrow anyway I phoned Mum and asked if he could just stay over again and leave this afternoon. She said yes, so we got another night together, and I’m still in a good mood because he only left a couple of hours ago.

Honestly, I know I keep going on and on about how happy I am, but it’s true. It isn’t a bad feeling, I must admit.

For example, the point I was going for in my last summing-up-of-months-of-my-life post: I am happy. I mean, properly happy, for the first time in God knows how long.

And there are lots of reasons for that. The most important reason would probably be Chris. Since, y’know, it’s nice to actually have a boyfriend again after so long, and he just makes me happy by being brilliant. And we’re in love, I suppose that makes me happy too. Maybe. Just a bit.

Also, the day after I wrote that last post saying that I’d applied to university and I was worried about it, I got three unconditional offers from University of the West of Scotland. Which isn’t the university I really want to go to, I’m still praying for a conditional offer from Strathclyde University, but it means that I’m definitely going to university in September and I’m definitely doing chemistry: I have a place in Chemistry, Forensic Science, and Applied Bioscience, and while forensic science looks interesting(and I may end up specialising in it anyway, who knows), I want to do a general chemistry degree. Four years at university, with a year of paid work placement between years three and four(so five years altogether), sounds good to me. I’ll be 22 when I leave university, I think. That sounds like such a long time away, but if the last six years of higher school have been anything to go by, it won’t seem like long. Honestly, I have no idea where my time in school has gone, and the fact I’m leaving school forever in less than five months(if we ignore exams, they’re a few weeks later) is just scary.

I’m happy though. I’m actually going to university. I was so worried that I wouldn’t even get into UWS, and to have three unconditionals is such a relief. Although I just find it funny that I have an unconditional for Applied Bioscience when I’ve never done biology in my life.

So yes, my life is good and I am happy. Only took two posts to get that across, how great am I.

Yes, I’m aware the layout is still half finished. I’m working on it, honest.

Edit: It’s a day later, and I have a new theory. I think that writing about universities on here makes them send me offers. The day after I posted saying I was worried about not getting in anywhere I got three unconditionals from UWS; a few hours after I wrote this post in which I worried about not getting near Strathclyde, I got a conditional offer for Mathematics at Strathclyde. I swear I’ve never been quite so excited in my life, I really didn’t expect to get an offer from mathematics. My guidance teacher told me not to bother applying for it because I wouldn’t get in, but I did, and I really want to rub it in her face.

I need to get a B in maths this year, and an A and a B in physics and chemistry(doesn’t matter which is which). The B in maths will be tough, but I’m sure I can do it if I work hard.

But holy shit I might get to go to Strathclyde. I am still excited about this, 24 hours after finding out.

I’m coming back though. Honest.

It really has been a long time, so in this post I’m going to make some attempt at summarising my life from September to now. I know the last blog was in August but it was the 31st, so let’s call it September to make me sound like a slightly better person.

School has been all right. Advanced higher maths is proving challenging: we’re tackling university-level questions, it’s hardly going to be easy. But I really enjoy it. I’m naturally good at maths, and rarely have problems understanding the concepts. I like things I’m good at. I think everyone does, it’s natural. Physics and chemistry are easy enough, since I’m resitting them.
Although, back in September or October, my physics teacher was hit by a car outside the school gate as he cycled to school. He broke his hip, quite badly, and has therefore been away since then. I didn’t really mind, because he’s an arrogant, condescending bastard and I hate him. However, we now have a substitute teacher called Mr Smith, and I have never hated a teacher so much in my life. In fact, I’ve said for a long time now that there’s only one person in the world that I genuinely, honestly, hate. But now there are two. Mr Smith likes to brag about how his daughter is much better at physics than us(obviously because he’s tutoring her), and enjoys calling us lazy and good for nothing and telling a class of 15-17 year olds that they will never succeed in life, while constantly telling us about how he has three degrees, and is just so horribly infuriating in so many ways that I can’t put words to.
I could put up with all that if he was actually a good teacher, but honestly, he is the worst teacher I have ever had. I have no idea how the pupils sitting physics for the first time are supposed to understand any of it, because I passed the course last year and he makes no sense to me half the time. Last year, we were taught exactly what we needed to know for the exams, and if someone didn’t quite understand then Mr Watson would go into a bit more detail and then eventually everyone understood. And it worked. Mr Smith, however, likes to spend four periods going through entirely unnecessary, complex background before finally “getting on to the topic” for one period in which he doesn’t tell us what we actually need to know for the exam. For example: for EMF, genuinely, the only thing you actually need is one simple equation: E=I(R+r). A little background knowledge would not go amiss, but I’m talking five or ten minutes of explanation. And then that is done. Mr Smith spent four periods talking about electrons passing between charged plates and the direction charge travels in, nothing interesting or necessary. Then he finally broached the subject of EMF, which these four periods were leading up to, and guess what he never mentioned? E=I(R+r). I genuinely don’t think he’s even qualified to teach.

But enough. I could sit here all day rambling about how angry just the thought of this man makes me. Onto other things.

I applied to universities last month, which seems very grown-up and scary. It seems strange thinking I’ll leave school in May. I really don’t want to, in some ways, but I also think it’ll make me seem more grown-up and I do want that, badly, for reasons I’ll explain a little later.
I used all five choices on my application, applying to Chemistry and Mathematics at Strathclyde University in Glasgow and Chemistry, Forensic Chemistry and Applied Bioscience at the University of the West of Scotland in Paisley. My heart is set on chemistry, and I would love to get into Strathclyde, but I doubt I have the qualifications. If I get an offer from Paisley for chemistry I will be very happy, and if I get any kind of offer from Strathclyde for chemistry I will be as happy as it is possible to be.
I would rather have applied to more varied universities(Paisley is, shall we say, not the best university, although it has a decent reputation for chemistry), but since I don’t want to move away from home quite yet my choice is sadly limited. My other options would be Glasgow or Caledonian: I would never, ever get into Glasgow with my qualifications, and Caledonian doesn’t offer any courses I want. So I ended up applying to Paisley three times. Oh well. Should hopefully know if I’ve got any offers from Paisley in the next ten days or so: Strathclyde wait until mid-January, which is just cruel of them.

The third thing I feel I should mention is something I can just see myself being laughed at for saying. But oh well. I fell in love. Aw, look how romantic I am~
I am the least romantic. Really. I turn being horribly sarcastic to your boyfriend 24/7 into an art form.
Just in case you weren’t judging me or laughing at me enough already, I’ll tell you that my boyfriend is seven years older than me, lives on the other side of the country, and we met online. For my non-British readers, I can at least make one of those points rather irrelevant by pointing out that “the other side of the country” is about fifty miles away. Living in a small country has advantages. Chris and I are about three hours apart, and we generally manage to see each other once a week at the very least. And yes, we happened to meet on deviantart, but since early April(I think) we’ve texted each other for hours almost every day, we’ve seen each other at least once a week every week since July or August: to be honest, we’re probably closer than most couples who meet in more “conventional” ways.
Wow, I am sounding defensive. That isn’t really intentional. When you tell people you have a 23-year-old boyfriend from Edinburgh who you met online, they tend to ask questions. I suppose that’s natural.
You may well also be judging me because so many people seem to think it’s impossible to be in love in your teens. Teenagers don’t have real feelings, they can’t possibly know what love is, they’re too young. I suppose that to some extent, I would have agreed with these people, before I met Chris. And now look at me, I’ve gone all soppy.
Thing is, I’ve always been a sensible person. I’ve never been all that interested in relationships or guys or anything, never been emotional, never really had crushes, etc. But now…I’m entirely different. Definitely a better person. I’m growing up; one reason why I’m looking forward to leaving school, it makes our relationship seem a little less dodgy to those that don’t know us. But if you’re still judging me(some of you probably are, I can’t really blame you): I’m happy. That’s all I care about.

This has ended up so long, I do apologise. I’ll end here, and I promise you that I will be back soon with less rambling. Well, the “less rambling” isn’t a promise. Shhh.

By the way, I’m aware the layout is half finished. Let’s ignore that for now.

I’m ignoring nursery because who cares about that.

We start primary school at the age of 4 or 5. The years are called primary one, primary two, etc. Or just p1, p2…you get the idea. That goes up to p7.

Then we have secondary/high school. The years are either just called first year, second year, or S1, S2. People generally use the first way. First-fourth year are compulsory. If you turn 16 before a certain date each year, fifth and sixth year are optional. If you turn 16 after this date, the earliest you can leave is halfway through fifth year. Generally, the size of each year decreases dramatically throughout fifth year. Mine had 220 people in fourth year, now in sixth year I think there are about 90. That’s a complete guess.

Basically: you can leave school when you’re 16, once you’ve done at least four/four and a half years of high school. Then after that you can leave whenever you like.

Also, when we move up a year varies. In some high schools, everyone moves up at the start of June(first years become second years, etc). This is because the fourth, fifth and sixth years sit their exams in April and May, so once they’ve finished those it makes sense for them to just move up a year(or leave school, in the case of the sixth years), and so the younger years just move up as well. Meaning that for the month of June(we stop for summer right at the end of June, but not many people bother going to school in the last week), there are no first years. Although in my school, we didn’t do that: if you sat exams, you move up. So in June the fourth years become fifth years, fifth years become sixth years, and sixth years head off into the big wide world. So we end up with no fourth years for a month instead.

Right, have we got the years sorted now? Yeah? Good. Now onto exams and subjects.

Subjects vary by school, so what I talk about here is just how my school works. Most schools will be at least sort of similar.

First and second years do about a million subjects, and they don’t get any kind of choice. They do English, maths, art, science(no individual sciences), technical(woodwork and metalwork), graphics, social subjects(they alternate between history, geography and modern studies), a language(either French or German, that’s the one thing they do get to choose), home economics(cooking and sewing), computing, music, RE, PE…there might be more, but I have got bored of this list. This is just so that they get to try a broad range of subjects and work out where their interests lie. They also don’t have any exams, just class tests.

Towards the end of second year, they have to choose the subjects they’ll spend third and fourth year doing(basically, which of them they want to start learning properly). They have to do English, maths, the language they did in first and second year, one of the three social subjects, at least one science(physics, chemistry or biology), and they can choose the rest to make it up to eight. For example, the eight subjects I sat exams in in fourth year were English, maths, French, history, physics, chemistry, computing, and music. Third and fourth years also have to do RE and PE, though they don’t get an award for it(though they can opt to take extra RE or PE as one or two of their eight subjects, and actually sit an exam in it).

The class tests done in second year are used to determine what level they study at in third and fourth year. The exams sat at the end of fourth year are called standard grades. Each subject has three different standard grade exams: credit, general and foundation. Every pupil sits two of these for each subject, either credit and general or general and foundation. So for each subject, you’re either in a credit/general level class or a general/foundation class.
Looking at standard grades overall, the highest grade you can get is a 1, and a 7 is a fail. In a credit exam, you can get a 1, 2, or 7. In a general, you can get a 3, 4, or 7. And in a foundation exam, you can get a 5, 6, or 7. This is why everyone sits two: if you got a 7 in the credit exam and a 3 in the general, your overall result for that subject would be a 3.

Confused yet?

Then, we get to fifth year.

Here, provided you do well in your standard grades, you’re more free to choose your subjects. Everyone sits five subjects in fifth year, including English and maths(though I’m told that it’s just my school who makes everyone do maths, that isn’t a widespread thing). The other three can be whatever you like. I did English, maths, physics, chemistry and music.

The slightly more complicated thing about fifth year is that the whole exam system changes. Again, there are three levels, but everyone only sits one. The hardest exams are called highers(there’s a massive jump in difficulty compared to standard grade), then there’s intermediate 2(roughly the same level as a credit standard grade), then intermediate 1(roughly the same level as a general standard grade). So if you got a 1 or a 2 in standard grade for a subject you would sit higher, if you got a 3 or a 4 you would sit int2, and if you got a 5, 6, or 7 you would sit int1. The different levels are all taught in separate classes. These courses take one year(unlike standard grades, which take two), and are made up of three units, and you have to pass a class test(called a NAB) at the end of each unit to pass the course. If you fail the final exam, you’re still credited with your NAB passes.

Just in case you weren’t confused enough: sometimes, in third and fourth year, pupils do the int2 course over two years instead of doing standard grade. I did this with chemistry: I got an A in int2 in fourth year, which allowed me to take higher in fifth. I took five highers in fifth year. To give an idea of the difficulty here, out of maybe 150 pupils in the year, 20 achieved five higher passes last year. Yes, I was one of them(however, I’m resitting physics and chemistry this year, since I only got a C in each of them and I’d quite like A’s).

In sixth year, the only real rule is that you have to take English if you didn’t pass higher in fifth year. Other than that, you can do what you like: take a higher in a subject you’ve never done before, do an advanced higher(which are basically just about the same level as first-year university) or two, resit your highers…as long as you take at least four subjects, it doesn’t matter. Though I’m only taking three(higher physics and chemistry, and advanced higher maths). I’m allowed to do that because advanced higher maths is hard. I really like it though, because I’m sad like that.

And, I think I’ve covered all the questions I’ve been asked in the past. If you have any more questions(whether it’s about something I just attempted to explain or not), feel free to leave a comment and I’ll add to this post. I never want to have to explain anything about my education again.

My holiday was good. Sort of. On the way there we had to spend a day in Aberdeen, which is my least favourite city I’ve ever been in, on account of how everything’s grey and the whole place smells funny and how every shop is just like a smaller, worse version of the same shop in Glasgow. That wasn’t fun. And I did spend several days of the holiday with no access to caffeine, which resulted in a lot of shaking and chest pain and feeling generally weird and awful. When I say I’m addicted to caffeine I really do mean it. And the house I stayed in the first week had no mobile coverage at all within about a mile so I could only contact the rest of the world during the day when I went out.

I can be really negative sometimes, can’t I?

However, the houses I stayed in were nice, there were lots of Shetland ponies(how surprising, considering I was in Shetland) and puffins and seals and otters and porpoises, and the weather was almost always nice. And it was kind of nice to get away from here for a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I like where I live, but it’s a village. Not even a big village. Villages do get sort of boring when you’ve lived in the same one for nearly sixteen and a half years. Not that Shetland is exciting or anything, but it was a bit of a change. The village I live in isn’t big, but if it was there it would practically be a city. Well, it isn’t anything like as big as Lerwick, but still. I stayed near Aith the second week, which I saw described on a leaflet as “large”. It was a shop, a charity shop, a junior high school(I didn’t even know they existed), an RNLI shop(there was a lifeboat there, you see), and maybe about thirty houses. Yeah, massive place. And I totally didn’t just distract myself for almost half an hour looking at it on google maps…it was difficult to find, it wasn’t coming up when I searched so I ended up going on street view on places near it and following road signs. You can tell how bored I am tonight, can’t you?

So I had a nice 14 days in Shetland. The day and a half spent travelling/in Aberdeen wasn’t as fun. Also the fact that I had to wait an extra nine days to see the last Harry Potter film(which just meant my childhood lasted nine days longer, y’know). But really: I spent the Saturday night on a ferry attempting to sleep and not doing well at all because the sea is a bastard sometimes, got off the ferry(Aberdeen, ugh) at 7am, drove for a while, got home at about 10:30am, and by 2pm I was in Glasgow going to see Harry Potter. That day was fun, actually. And yes, I have seen it since, and yes, I will again. I will never get tired of laughing at Voldemort’s laugh.

This blog has become extremely rambly and nonsensical. I blame the fact that it was written on about 5 different days. Honestly, the first three sentences were on that same Sunday when I got no sleep and travelled and went to Glasgow to see Harry Potter and then went out with other friends to catch up on gossip and so didn’t properly get home until about 11pm(and I still tried to blog, look, that is dedication right there). The rest of that paragraph was an hour ago. The stuff in the middle was written at various times. And I’m too lazy to read through it again, so I apologise if stuff doesn’t read right/make sense.

I’ve become really apologetic recently. Sorry about that.

Anyway, here is a list.

Newport Living – Cute Is What We Aim For
Well, to be honest, pretty much every Cute Is What We Aim For song gets into my head quite frequently and then refuses to leave. This one just happens to be there just now. Good song though. Love the chorus.

That Green Gentleman – Panic! At The Disco
Again, it isn’t like this is the only Panic! song that gets stuck in my head, but it is just so fucking catchy. Good, but catchy.

Spin – Taking Back Sunday
This was in my head for the whole of last night…no idea why considering how long it’s been since I really listened to Taking Back Sunday, but I’m growing to like it again so it’s going on this list. Fun times.

Just Another Star – Bullet For My Valentine
…this is just a fucking brilliant song, that’s all.

I think we’re done here. I mean, there are a lot more songs, but I am content with Just Another Star being in my head for the rest of the day.

I’m in Shetland as you read this. Hopefully I’m having fun. The problems of scheduling blogs ten days in advance, I have no idea how this holiday is going. I can promise photos on my return, for example, but for all I know my camera’s already broken. So many variables. Except not really because my life is boring and predictable.

What I’m trying to say is that I’m writing this on the 2nd of July and it makes things difficult because I would usually blog about my daily life and I can’t really because I know nothing about my daily life on the 12th except that it’s a lot further north and my surroundings are probably prettier. They’d better be, or I’ll be annoyed. Nice scenery is pretty much the only thing I’m looking forward to about this holiday. I’d rather not go. Not just because I have to wait at least a week extra to see the last Harry Potter film, but also because I will miss Starbucks. Maybe my friends too, I quite like them sometimes. But I can text them, at least.

Actually, thinking about it, I’m at least glad I’m not going abroad because then I couldn’t text people and I would be lonely. I haven’t been properly abroad since I was 12…don’t remember being lonely then, but that was when I spend a week in Paris and a week in a farmhouse in Normandy. I liked Paris enough that I was probably distracted, and the farmhouse was infested with literally hundreds of spiders so I spent most of that week in tears out of fear. Yes, literally. Didn’t help that Dad found my terror hilarious and didn’t seem to notice me screaming and crying.

Having said all that, I do love travelling. By which I mean being in different places and also the act of travelling between these places. Pretty much any form of transport except trains is good. I especially love overnight car journeys because I don’t sleep, I just listen to music and look at hills and mountains silhouetted outside the windows. Though it gets light too early in summer, especially when we go north…I like darkness. Yes, I’m a strange child. Though as I write this the sky is still light but the ground is dark so everything’s all silhouetted, and considering that the view from my window is composed primarily of trees this makes the view look very pretty. I’m a sucker for pretty views. I’ve been known to stand at my window for half an hour on a windy day watching the trees move. Because I’m really sad.

I think I’ve rambled at you enough for now. Hope the 12th is nice.

I mean, not all of it, obviously. Some of it is awful not to my taste. But things like film soundtracks, TV soundtracks…though they’re not orchestral, I also love string covers. Like Vitamin String Quartet’s cover of And All Things Will End by Avenged Sevenfold. And all their other Avenged Sevenfold covers, and the Panic! At The Disco ones, and the Shinedown ones, and the Taking Back Sunday ones, and the Stone Sour ones…I just love them. Though not their Metallica ones, because Apocalyptica are far better at those.

Going back to the soundtracks thing, what I was really thinking of there is the Doctor Who soundtrack. I could sit and listen to I Am The Doctor for hours on end(and if I could find the music for the french horn part ten seconds in then I would never stop playing it, the whole thing just so brilliant). Also the Harry Potter soundtracks. I mean, those amazing pieces of music bring me to tears far too often. Though that will be because they represent a vast part of my childhood as much as it’s because of the actual music. They are amazing though. I must have heard Hedwig’s Theme literally hundreds of times in my life, and it still brings me to tears. I love it.

You’re almost certainly reading this and thinking I’m sad. It isn’t seen as cool nowadays to listen to these things, and I don’t understand why. And I’m aware that I probably sound far older than I am right now. Yes, I really am sixteen. And I do have friends, honest.

Though I could perhaps get away with saying I love these things, since they’re so modern and everything. It’s when I admit to loving, say, this, that I get really strange looks. And I don’t just love it because of that amazing time I got to play it with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra(…I am not making myself sound any cooler here, am I), but it sounds awesome.

I’m not saying I listen to this stuff on a regular basis. Not just because I’ve hardly listened to anything other than Welcome Home Armageddon for months. I mean, 99% of the music I listen to on a daily basis is “normal”. If Funeral For A Friend and Bullet For My Valentine and Avenged Sevenfold and Stone Sour and Shinedown and Apocalyptica are considered normal. I say they are. But there isn’t anything wrong with a bit of variety. I appreciate different types of music, I don’t care if it makes me seem sad.

As a final note, if you didn’t click all of the links in this post then you should totally do that now because all of the things I linked to are just great. Not all at once though. One at a time. And you should look up Vitamin String Quartet because chances are they will have covered at least one band you like, and this might just be me but I find covers that are that dramatically different from the original fascinating.

…yeah, I know you’re not going to, but it was worth a try.