The belated London post.

Two weeks ago I mooched down to London to meet one of my friends and it was faaaab.

Yes. Faaaab is a word you all should recognise.

I was very, very tired because evil Work #2 wouldn't let me swap my hours so I was at work at 6am til noon before I could pack my bags and get on the train.

Leaving out details, I got some good pictures.

Big Ben

Cleopatra's Needle

Inexplicable Sphinx

Trafalgar Square

Bonus Shot: York shares my madness

My scarily streetwise dad took me around more or less all of the main places in London on the Sunday, leaving me exhausted and craving a bed that didn't shake when the people in the room next door started boinking. Where is the justice?

So that was all two weeks ago. Since then, True Blood Season 3 aired on FXUK and my life has once again been complete (which pisses my boyfriend off no end because Eric Northman is 'serious competition' and uh.. Swedish. Silly boy.) Also, the first of the 18th's has arrived. Denny on the 17th, then Mo-Balls, then MEEEE, then Hooker, then Lemon. And then we can all go drinking in town without having to steal Hooker's brother's ID. Hell yeah.

Finally, gym update: I've been, oh... twice..? in six weeks. So I need to work on that. At this point, any way is up. Here goes.

The 22-Hour Day by Nicole Smith.

Yesterday was tough tits.

It started like this. I woke up at 4am (ON A SATURDAY!! ON A SATURDAY!!!!) I was at Work #2 at 5.30am, doing deliveries in the freezing dark and setting up the store for the day with an army of other people I tiredly question the sanity of. Who has the energy to smile at that time of day?

I finished my shift at 11am and rushed to Work #1 to start work at 11.30am.. until 6pm.. At which time Matt drove us back to his house where we unpacked aaaaaalllll his DJ-ing gear and went to Denny's house and then to Lemon's house and then to Leeds, where we got lost looking for the German Christmas market, which turned out to be 'just behind us'.

The Christmas Market. It was more or less closed by the time we got there but I still got to eat a cockdog (see picture below) and a pretzel the size of my face before going home.

Midnight. But determined to enjoy not having to get up early the next day so I'm on the internet until 2am at which point I feel old and am sent off to bed.

Never has a reasonable 22 hours sounded so boring.

Where have you beeeen?

Alas, I hath returneth.

I neglected to mention the epic November challenge I set myself.

Introducing.. Nicole's fantasticalmagicalbakingpalooza. It started with Baking For Dummies arriving in the post (I so recommend it..) and ended with my doing my first batch of cookies on the same day.

Fig. 1 - Stage: I will not be defeated.

Fig 2. - Stage: Holy crap I love that liquidiser.



Fig. 3 - Stage: I have a system worked out at this point.

Fig. 4 - Stage: Voila!

Epic delicious choc chunk cookies For Dummies.

My next creation? Nut-free carrot cake with vanilla/coffee icing (frosting). But more on that as and when it happens.

---

Also, excellent news!! I think I mentioned last week that I was applying for a second job and today? I gets it! I gets it!!

No rest for the wicked.

Christmas shopping:

Lunchbreak in the staffroom: Argos catalogue, paper, pen, tea and coffee.

In the news

By the way...

Overly complicated.

Working the lights.

Don't lie. This is hysterical.

I am sorry for the people who got hurt. Karma may punch me in the face. It's still funny.

My little pony.

I'm really sorry I'm sucking so bad at NaBloPoMo. I promise I'll sit down tomorrow and tap out a decent post.

In the meantime.. Pony!

Three times a tweeble.

Stemming from here:

Nicole: Be right back.
Rach: Still alive?
Nicole: Just brb-ing for provisions.
            I'm going to write a blog post if it kills me.
Rach: lol about what.
Nicole:No idea. Need inspiration, so.. brb. =)
Rach: Chimps drinking tea?
Nicole: BE RIGHT BACK, RACH!
            But yeah. I like that.
            ...Brb..

So, way back then, I had a rough idea of how I'd stumble through another post. Now I'm sat brooding because everyone else makes it look so easy and now, at the tender age of seventeen, all I see and want and hear is FACEBOOK! No no you must blog, it's been- FACEBOOK! But your blog! Don't you love it anymo-FAAAAAACE-*gasp*-BOOOOOOOK!

...I never get any notifications on Facebook. But I live in hope.

Lots of nothing and some of anything has been happening around here. My mamma could be ready to move out (taking the dread-pirate Cleo with her) in as little as two weeks. Testing out her house the other night she brought a band and her original-punk friends back to her house where she ended up sleeping in a spooning conga line, had a million or so glasses broken and had "life is a sexually transmitted disease with 100% mortality" written on the kitchen wall along with "Gav is a knob!" which is fair enough because it also has "NICOLE IS AWESOME" sprawled across it in black ink, too. Fun times.

My Sonisphere tickets have arrived. I'm pretty sure I've written this maybe three times on here already but this time I have PICTURES! Yes, precious!

No that isn't a carbunkle on the side of my nose, it's a stud, TYVM.

Because I'm vain and stuff. But not at all, really. I threw on a t-shirt at least (B-Movie Vampires - also known as the-band-that-trashed-my-mamma's-house) which is very considerate of me considering that I don't believe in t-shirts or indeed pyjamas OR clothes because they mess with my overall karma which means it's too damn hot for clothes. There was a week where I totally abandoned the concept of trousers and just walked around the house in tights and erm, not much else but you don't need the details of that.

And because I'm awesome, or in case you missed me or the tickets in the first picture, or even because the heady combination of me plus Sonisphere tickets is particularly moving to you, here are some more pictures of me with the tickets:

Alas! 'Tis poetry kindred unto none other, Sire! 'Tis blossom that hath not blemish nor ill-repute!

Last night, or seeing as it's 2.22am, Sunday night, I went to an awesome poker night with people from school. Quids in, playing for keeps, etc etc. I neither won nor lost any money except for what I owe someone for the take-out, so all's fair. There's something awesome about six 17-year-olds getting together with money, Indian food, poker chips and cards that totally warrants the text I got the next day: "I hear you engaged in illicit behaviour with *bleep* yesterday?" Though the fact is that today I have a bruised bottom, backache and cannot walk straight. What the hell was I doing, pray tell? Riding from Fulford to Acomb (North to south, essentially) on a bike with skinny wheels and bugger-all suspension, that's what.

I also read through all the Neil Gaiman books I own verrry slooowly to pass the time. I totally recommend any of them, especially Neverwhere (Damn.. why has no one invented an internet book database yet? One that actually works? Someone get onto that) which is probably going to be my favourite book ever when I read my last book. I also read the latest Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood, duh) book too which was fab but didn't take up enough of my time (my fault entirely, I read so fast, never has 'devour a book' been so literal) and I was left thinking 'I should have savoured that..' afterwards because that was the book I'd been waiting for since last May, which I oh-so-conveniently remembered only after I finished it. Way to go, bumpkin.

I also managed to get myself down to the coast that awkward distance-across-time ago that isn't a couple of weeks ago or just one week ago, it's simply a 'time' that has no name except for now, as I'm calling it a 'tweeble'. So, I managed to get myself down to the coast a tweeble ago and got some gorgeous pictures out of it that made walking barefoot for two miles across tiny sharp pebbles and rocks totally worth it.

So for now I'm thinking I'm going to try to blog three times a tweeble.

Meet the Nicole-ites.

I fried my internet connection last night because my laptop breathes fire because I'm an adaptor with the wrong specs because the first one broke because I said so.

So, I'm here on borrowed time, posting nice photos because I'm in a desperate race against my laptop, who is winning.

Here are the cast of my life, in no real order:

Your beloved leader a.k.a. Me.

Anner, Mo-Balls and Lemon.

BFF Main Gay.5 and me.

Rach. We loves.

Kel, my oldest niece. Always loud, always pushing the limits. Doesn't understand the word 'calm' and is totally amazing.

Me, Chunk and Bunny. Chunk's the youngest and absolutely adorable. Bunny's the most lovable, cute, clever, funny little girl in the world.

Cleo. Rerrr... My sister and polar opposite. Found here once in a blue moon.

My brother, Golden Balls. Spawn of awesome.

My mamma. Formally known as 'Mum'.

And finally, my awesome dad, simply known as 'Dad'.

A summary whilst I wait for something better to write.

I have four drafts of different posts saved, but they all need work and I'm not in the mood, like at all.

Between working, sleeping and watching my social life skip off into the dusk I've come to love the following things.

1. Walking the dogs.

Trundling through Walmgate Stray with two very active and competitive dogs whilst trying not to step in any of the hidden boggy bits (about 90% of it) is oddly lovely.

2. Destroying my mum's house.

I've had the opportunity to vent and be destructive. I took out a kitchen, jumped through the back of a wardrobe before it collapsed (my sister crapped herself) and then put tons of holes in the walls.

3. Redecorating/rebuilding my mum's house.

I've painted most of the rooms now, I plastered all the walls after I left them full of holes and I've shifted all the furniture. I also discovered a lovely message for me on the wall.


4. Staying awake until dawn.

Even though I'm at work most of the time, I can't help staying awake until the birds start singing. And then not being able to sleep because OhMyGodDon'tThoseBirdsEverShutUp??

So that's what I've been doing when I haven't been working my little fingers to the bone (I coloured in a map of the stockrooms yesterday... I'm special), fighting killer washing machines (that's another story) and making epic fail cake (better left untold).

Most of my secrets end up here anyway. I kinda suck.

What would have made this trip better? If I hadn't found my harmonica in two pieces before I left. Nooooo..!

So yesterday I went to Whitby.



Whitby's where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula and it draws on that so of course I had four or five run-in's with big-ass, steroid-chugging spiders (who wants a spider, pincers and all, displayed in a glass block ANYWHERE in their house? Who pays for those things?) before I could flee to Kettleness, down the coast.



Kettleness is basically just a few houses and a cliff, but I love it anyway. You can see for miles and it's totally wild.

I got to take lots of photos of rocks and things (ohh, the thrill...)







"This, children, is an excellent example of sedimentary rock..."



Hell yeah, that's a Snufkin bag.





I got to spend an hour pondering the colour of my hair. What colour is my hair? Is it blonde or brown? I used to be blonde (diddums...) but now I'm all... I don't even know.



This was the moment when I was too dope for the camera. Very, very white.

Also saw an absolutely gorgeous sunset when driving back over the North Yorkshire Moors.

I'm thirsty.

Sometimes on a Wednesday we all have to cram into the common room (it was built for about 70, not 300) and sit through being lectured about litter or behaviour or grade targets. Today we went one better - ALCOHOL AWARENESS.

Within about five minutes I was able to say that no one was more aware than me that I was sober.

I won't go into it, but highlights included THE ULTIMATE HANGOVER CURE (turns out it was just time - cop out), Connor (awesome and raging drinker) passing out with a resounding slap on the floor, and making fake wine out of red food colouring and water (I know your game, lady, and I don't like it...).

I went to psychology feeling somewhat thirsty. And hungry. After the lesson I took off to Big Bite which is just THE place to be if you want awesome meat-based food (I lasted less than a week in that place before I stopped being a vegetarian), and on the way back I was a-happily munching on my sandwich when suddenly a big brown splodge appeared on my jacket.

No. Way.

After years, years of tormenting and/or dodging seagulls I had finally been singled out and poops away...!

I spent the rest of the day with my jacket doubled over to hide the big poo stain and trying not to breathe through my nose.



That bird's feathery little butt is mine.

The Great Durham Excursion

This is going to be a very short post full of pictures and loveliness because some fucknut made me peel lots of vegetables despite the fact that I am allergic to them and so now my hands are all red and swollen and I need to save the last of my strength to strangle said asshat.

Yesterday we went to Durham because my mum's passport ran out and British passports suck even more than my passport picture and Durham has the nearest passport office. It was one of those places where they search your bag for knives, guns and knitting needles, take off your belt and then run you over with a vacuum cleaner. Kind of awesome really.

I was running off of four hours of sleep because I decided that it was better to be slap-happy rather than tired. Go figure. But I still managed to make it all the way up to the cathedral and castle, and all the way down again, and all the way home and all the way to bed never to leave again.

And then just this morning I was looking at my photos when I noticed something rather odd. York and Durham are, for tourists, almost exactly the same.

Just look at the evidence.

It's a fine line.

Look at it all there... All old and divine. You just know that secretly they think they are better than you.

No, not even secretly, these guys FLAUNT their good looks.

Bastards.

Furthermore, never ever upon entering a church have I ever felt more heathen bombarded by propaganda. Ever.

Other than that, it was an absolutely lovely place.

My heart bleeds for the people of Durham, it really does. I totally get how annoying living in a pretty city can be.

Don't get me wrong, Durham was great, and it's home to the university I want to go to (that place was so gorgeous it made me feel very small), but living there? Nah, it can't be that good.

We don't need no education.

"No more school for us, so you can knackers!"

This is kind of rocking my world right about now.

No more school.

None. Nichts. Nil. Noot. Nofink. Boom, dead, gone.

Wow.

Now what? I just go back for a coupl'o'hundred exams or so and then it's a straight shot through to September.

And it's bloody May.

I feel powerful.

Today was amazing and crap on so many levels... Parties every lesson. Hours of signing t-shirts and books and taking photos. It's typical that the best day of school should be the last day there. But then there was the obvious 'OH GOD LEMON PLEASE DON'T GO' factor which was just a massive spoiler that caused me to cry something ridiculous like seven times.

But at least my camera got an extensive workout. I haven't taken that many photos since Berlin, and back then I documented THE WHOLE THING.

Speaking of which, the Berlin trip was almost a year ago now.

Anyways, I digress.

Highlights of the day include my English lesson-of-sorts, where we all received awards. My award was 'person whom I [Ms B] would like to get a pint with once 18', so Ms B owes me a beer.

Result.

(I was flattered.)

The English Class (I'm on the floor... surprise surprise...)




Fulford School: We work on a 'blink and you'll miss it' basis over here. (This is Evan and Ashley)



Half-Joe, Alex and Josh. Josh remains the single most un-photogenic person I have had the joy of knowing.



I also filmed most of the final assembly which Gatenby and Bodey have been planning for months, but I won't inflict that upon you. It's too cool.

I cried like a baby at the end. The whole thing was awesome, it was over too soon. I was throwing myself at everyone. I don't think I've ever hugged so many teachers/students/strangers/chairs before.

I have a theory that I become all kinds of easy when I'm miserable. At lunchtime I was so delirious I let (redacted) sign my boobs.

Score one for the home team.

Aaaaanyway.

I decided halfway through the assembly that Gatenby should become a comedian of some sort. It'd be an awesome career choice. He used to be a baker, and that's a million miles away from teacher-dom so anything could happen.

Three degrees of separation: Baker (Master baker), Teacher (Maths debater), Comedian (BOO-YAH!).

I rest my case.