Accio Butterbeer

I went for a wander (a 5-hour coach journey) down to London for an 'inspiration day' with uni and we ended up at the Harry Potter studio tour.  And it was fantastic!  Even as a backstage technical person seeing the scaffolding holding up the other side of the walls in the great hall didn't spoil anything for me.  There's a picture of me and Voldemort circulating Facebook somewhere.

I also tried Butterbeer.  That did ruin it for me. It was nasty stuff. My poor insides will never be the same.

And I got wondering.  The studio was used to film parts of Harry Potter and there are homes all around.  It's no big secret area and yet there were never people storming the gates. Then I realised it is just like the industrial estate where I go to uni. All kinds of mad stuff happens in the arena with all kinds of people and the people in the town/village next to the estate have no idea. A bunch of students come crawling out of the estate and down to the town on a lunchtime. Very sinister.

Diddums.

I was skulking around the nether and I found an old post I wrote on my other blog which I thought I had deleted.

This post is six years old but still as relevant as ever.

"To whom it may concern,

I will love you at some point. I will. And you’ll love me too. We’ll be happy.

I can’t wait to meet you.

I’ll love you.
Nicole."

Short but sweet.

Bless, 14-year-old me, you had a few rare moments of insight.

Then they took you away.

Happy new year!

I didn't bother posting a new year's resolution this year because last year's is still applicable. And also I spent new year sat in with college friends watching Mean Girls and freaking myself out with statements like "What if you're new year's resolution was to break your new year's resolution?"

Think about it. Trippy, no? Almost stoner talk, that.

I'm checking in to document a strange change I have noticed in the past few weeks. I don't really recognise myself anymore. I dress well, my makeup is done before I leave the house, my nails aren't chewed, my hair is pink, I'm addicted to Sherlock, I like a One Direction song (a mortal sin), I've taken up sketching and drawing everything, I go to the gym four times a week, I'm used to early mornings and I feel genuinely content and happy for the first time in nearly two years.

This is madness!

I don't recognise this girl. She seems okay, she's shiny new and not very sure of what the hell is happening.

Oh well.

University is the best thing that has every happened to me. People ask how the degree is going and I can only tell them with a big grin that I have never felt more like I'm in the right place and the right time then right now. And my timing is fairly awful. Only yesterday I found out that an assignment I thought was due in for next Tuesday isn't in till the middle of February. Relief! I have no idea what to do with myself now.

My current module is all about event design, and it gives me a lot of creative license. I haven't done much design since college and I really enjoyed it then so this is just peachy. The week after next we are going to Harry Potter World in London for an inspiration day before developing our own event concept. I'm equal parts excited to share my idea and apprehensive about sharing what I think is an absolute GOLDMINE of an idea. But then I would say that... ;-)

Also I get to ride a broomstick. What's not to love?

Boom.

So it turns out I wasn't able to get any pictures of the pyrotehnics lesson because having anything electrical (e.g. my phone) near explosives is a REALLY TERRIBLE IDEA.

But it has been an interesting week so far.

On Monday I spent the day swinging ten feet from the ground in the warehouse learning to work at height without dying whilst massive explosions were going off in the arena next door.

On Tuesday I had a class on industry roles with Justin Hawkins' pony. And the class kept squabbling over which role in the live events industry was more important which led to a picture of me sacked out on the floor in despair.

 

 

And then to Wednesday!! Into the arena, pyrotechnics training. I was grumbling to one of the managers at one of the music venues I work at that it would be SO MUCH BETTER if he'd let me blow stuff up on stage but after having to sit through videos showing the worst-case scenerio I no longer want to. Also the venue is pretty much rum-soaked so I suspect it would go up like a Christmas pudding.

 

My area is mostly lighting and visual effects and pyrotechnics is something I'd quite like to go into further. Researching is a bit tricky because unfortunately (in this case) you can't google how to assemble explosives without an alarm going off somewhere.

 

At the end of the day we had to present our own pyrotechnics show but again, no phones so I don't have a video of that but after that the person teaching us put a small show together for us to watch and film and I caught that on video.

 

 

And today I'm having a well-earned day off (still at work tonight though, boooooo) before a whole day of health and safety tomorrow. Yay.

In which our heroine craves valium

I had my first actual lesson-lesson today and my confidence for the next two years has been completely undermined. I haven't had a problem putting my hand up and offering ideas and answers since I finished school and the last few days have been so relaxed that the classes felt more like a group conversation where there were no wrong answers.

Today I was late because I have a forty mile commute and hit traffic in the last mile so I was already worried I'd pissed off the tutor but it was all for nothing. The class was being held in one of the hospitality boxes at the stadium with a big window overlooking the pitch and I sat so I could see the man who cuts patterns in the grass. And I was settled in for class. Today was portfolio writing and Harvard referencing, and I kind of got it. I think. Then the tutor asked a question, I can't even remember what it was now, but I offered an answer expecting he would just say yes or no and move on to other people.

But he didn't. He decided to look at me expectantly like I hadn't finished my answer. So I scrabbled for a fuller answer, umming and ahhing and making no sense towards the end and then finally giving up and asking him to move onto someone else. Which, mercifully , he did. I was ridiculously shook up by the whole thing and you'd think I'd learnt my lesson but it had to happen twice more before I learned to stop putting my hand up.

We then had to write mock report conclusions and introductions and though my conclusion was the only one that didn't get critiqued to pieces, after he had read my introduction out he stared at it frowning for a full 30 seconds before murmuring "there is something about it..."

Blind panic. Alarm bells. Armageddon and horsemen. I blurt out everything that could possibly be wrong with my writing. After, he looks at me, hmms, nods, and moves onto the next person.

And now I will be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my natural essay-writing life.

Hmm.

Ta-daa! I finally started university yesterday, two months later than the rest of the country. It would be exciting if this week wasn't all admin and learning how to use the university's weird system and it would be enjoyable if I knew anyone/wasn't crap with strangers.

Today I spent four hours being told that liking PCs was wrong and that Apple is the best thing ever. Here's a trio of terrible secrets I have, dear reader... First: even though I know a lot about technology I refuse to certain operating systems (i.e. Mac) because I'm weirdly sentimental about Windows. Second: I hate Apple with a passion even though I know it's better. Third, and this is the worst: I still use Internet Explorer. I'll never change. I'm doomed to slow internet and crashing computers. We were invited back after lunch for a couple more hours learning the ins and outs of Apple Macs. My god, no. I'll probably regret it later in the semester but at the time it seemed like a life or death decision.

At university the whole being-social thing is a complete mystery to me. Most of the people on the course (there is only one course) live together nearby and so know each other. I commute 40 miles every day with two people I work with but I haven't made any new friends or anything at uni. It's only the end of day two now but I'm pretty sure I'm doomed to die alone. I don't really like parties because big social situations are my own personal hell and I don't drink so I'm usually the only one sober anyway. I say stupid stuff I regret and I do stupid stuff I regret. Today I was trying to turn the heater in the common room on and it was going AWOL, I panicked, thinking I'd broken it and it turned out the guy behind me had the remote for it and was flicking through the settings. And everyone was laughing. Shit.

Half of my classes this week are in a football stadium because the main uni building is busy and there is no heating. It's fine for all the sweaty rugby players walking around because they do weights for three hours a day but by the end of yesterday everyone was so cold they were going into spasms.

I also gained the nickname "Garfield" because I love lasagne.

I'll try get some pictures next week, we're being taught fire safety and pyrotechnics (boom).

 

New things

7 new things this week:

1. I bought this face mask stuff from Soap & Glory (I love everything about them) that heats up when it's on your face and I thought I'd try it for science and I swear I nearly burnt my face off. In a really pleasant way. My face is all smoothy-smooth and lovely now. And I didn't have to turn the heating on.

2. My sister's birthday was this week so I took her to Big Scary Leeds to do some proper shopping and dropped £200 in one go. I wouldn't mind too terribly but it was the morning of pay day.

3. I noticed that someone I absolutely despised at college has only liked three things I've ever posted on Facebook. Two of these were checking into A&E, the third was when I got glass in my hand at work. I love it when I'm not the crazy one.

4. My beautiful new dress! Yay.

5. I doubted a friend and I feel terrible for it. They were accused of stealing from the till at work and I have believed they were innocent the entire way and I have had their back. And then one person told me a part of the incident I didn't know about and I doubted them. My major gripe is that even if they did do it, I wouldn't care, I would just rather be told the truth. And if it turns out they lied to me, they know I will at least attempt to break their legs. :-) :-) :-)

6. I made my step-dad laugh so hard with a joke about gravy boats that he nearly crashed the car. My insurance doesn't cover the cost of repeating it.

7. When we went out for my sister's birthday meal we ate a ma-hoo-ssive main meal and then got 'cakeaway' for dessert, and I took home a slice of cake that stood 10 inches tall. Eating it was a daunting experience but I am wiser for it.