Almost there.

(First posted 4th March 2014)

Sorry, dear readers. I have been doing lots of things/been too ill do do things and so haven’t been able to write a blog in almost a month. I don’t actually have time just now, I am just procrastinating from going to sleep because it is 1:30am and I need to be up  at 6am and I am a self sabotager.

I have lots of ideas for things I want to write about ao I will do that soon. I will post something that is like decent and worth linking to Facebook so I can lure all you fair weather followers back to me.

I am handing in my last ever essay tomorrow (today  now!) and I can’t wait. Going to go home and sleep for a few hours afterwards and then go meet my wee pals for some pancakes because it is pancake day :)

After this hand in I only have three more hand ins. Two port folios and my dreaded dissertation. Which I haven’t started yet. I will start it on Wednesday(tomorrow now). It is due in three weeks… That information is freaking everyone in my course out and, as you can see from my last blog, it would have freaked me out too if I hadn’t had the realisation that I really just want it to be over. I just want to not be doing this anymore. I am ready to move on to doing real life with like actual meal times and bedtimes and visiting my dog. I think that finishing uni is going to make me so happy.

I am going to be like my friend’s dad who suddenly became this really happy optimistic person when he retired from work. He took on all these projects and he is just having a great time. I am going to be like that when I finish uni. I am going to smile and wear hats and wave at people on buses. I will have a job and a filofax and it will be full from 9-5 with some sort of really rewarding job but outwith those times it will be all dancing and romancing and having a rare old time. Well, it will mostly be going to my friends houses or reading books, but it will be grand either way.

Anyway this was supposed to be like a oh I am so so sorry blog and it has turned into a rant about the future. I better go to sleep. Good night fair readers. Or reader, since you can assume everyone else has stopped reading by now. It’s just you reading this blog now. That means its just me and you. How personal! Let’s be best friends. Okay, I love you, bubye.


Plate is overflowing.

(First posted 5th Feb 2014)

Okay so I have too much on my plate. That is obvious. But the plate is full of completely essential things so there is nothing I can do to make their be less things on my plate other than eat the things that already on it, because I can’t put anything in the bin or I won’t get any dessert… The dessert is my degree/future happiness. Okay I have gone too far with this plate metaphor.

Things I need to do:

  • 2000 word Pragmatics and spoken discourse essay, I have chosen the question  ”How do children develop pragmatic and conversation skills and how might their communication be affected by a disability at this level of language?”. I need to get an A in this essay and I need to complete this essay  by next Thursdayish. The deadline is the 4th but I have too many other things to do around then so I want this essay done and dusted by the 13th.
  • 2000 word Semantics essay, I have chosen the question  ”Why is the semantic category of FEAR so full of metonymies?”. This question is so interesting and I am sure I could write something brilliant on it if I had enough time, the only worry is I don’t think I do have enough time. I need to have it done by around the same time as the essay above. I already got a B1, one mark off an A, in my last essay so I could just submit that essay and if I do well in all other course work I could still be on track for a 2.1, but then that leaves it up to everything else and I have never been the sort of person who takes chances when it comes to something I really care about. I don’t know whether I am taking a bigger chance by cutting down time I could be spending on things that I really do need to up my grade on over an essay with an adequate grade, or on the assumption that I will do well on everything else and the B1 will carry me to a 2.1 anyway! Stress.
  • 3000 word Humanities in the Classroom essay. I get to choose any question I want as long as it relates to classrooms somehow. I am thinking I will do something on prejudice against Scots language in schools as that’s what I know, but I am worried I will accidentally plagiarise myself because my dissertation is on a very similar topic. Oh my wooly word, I just went to confirm that this essay was due by the 28th of March like I thought only to find out it is due by the 21st of February. Oh gosh. Oh wow. Oh panic. Ahhh.
  • 25-30hours of HiC Placement at a school. I have already done 12 hours, and I have 6 tomorrow and 6 on Friday. I might ask if I can stay for after school club and that will bring me up to 26 hours and then  I won’t need to go back. It is really fun, but because I am so stressed about the rest of my course work I am finding it really exhausting. Also because kids are hard work! Tomorrow I am going to be in a class with a deaf teacher though so I am very very excited about using my BSL. I love it so much, BSL is one of my favourite things to do ever.
  • 2000 word Humanities in the Classroom Portfolio about my placement. That should be fine because it is about my own experiences and I don’t need references etc. Not too worried about that. That is also not due until the 28th of March, so after dissertation. That’s fine.
  • 3000 word Humanities in the Classroom Reflective Log. It’s fine with that, we just submit 300 words a week. I have already done 900 words of it, and at the end we just tweak it so it flows better. Not stressed about that. That’s for the 14th of March.
  • 11000 word dissertation. Oh wow is this stressing me out. I am writing about something that is pretty much entirely my own research so I can’t even beef it out with extra sources. I haven’t got my ethics approval back yet so I can’t start my own research yet, and if I can’t do my questionnaires then I can’t analyse them and then I can’t write about them so I can’t do anything. Until ethics approval is back. And who knows when that will be. Ahhh. Freaking out about this a lot. Like a real lot. I have already read everything I can read about it and I can’t use any of it until I am writing up my own data. I might start writing about how I am going to carry it out as though I have already done it because then I will at least have written something. Like seriously, I haven’t even written the heading in a word document yet. Ahhh. 25th of March for this bad boy.

So that’s everything I need to do. 2×3=6 + 3×2 = 6 . 6+6 =12. 12+11 = 23. 23000 words. Woohoo. And then when those are all done I have a 15 minute presentation and two 4 hour exams. And then that’s it. That’s it all over. I am done with education. And I cannot wait.


(First posted 2nd Feb 2014)

I grew up on the Isle of Lewis, and so Sundays were a day where not much was supposed to happen. There were no shops open and you weren’t supposed to play in the swing park. I loved Sunday’s until I was about 13. They were the best day. My Dad and brother and I would have adventures, sometimes mum would even come too. We would get in the car, no matter what the weather, and we would go somewhere exciting like the West Side, or Tolsta, or Point, or Ness, or sometimes even Harris.If it was raining then we would wear wellies and big wooly jumpers underneath massive waterproof jackets, the kind with draw strings that you pulled tight under your chin. If it was really sunny we would wear loose fitting tshirts and shorts, because we would be pulling them off to go for a swim in the swimming clothes we wore underneath. If it was raining then it would usually be windy, and to this day I can think of few things as satisfying as the salty buzz on your skin as the sea spray hits your face. The way your cheeks would turn into tomatoes, and your slevers would taste like saline. We would collect things too, in our pockets. I had a shell pocket and a stone pocket in one of my sky blue anoraks. Both pockets had a lot of sand in them too. My brother used to collect things in his jumper, and then get distracted by a ball or a dog and drop them all absentmindedly. He and my dad would chase me down the beach with massive stalks of seaweed, and I’d get fed up and throw myself down in a huff, running sand through my fingers until I found a pretty shell that would cheer me up again. I was a moody child. After we came home from the beach on a rainy day we would get our jammies on and play Tomb Raider or Worms or Earth Worm Jim and eat hot soup and plain loaf. We would watch the Antiques Roadshow or Dad’s Army with our dinner, and then I would go for a bath to get ready for school the next day.

On sunny days we would have to do the awkward “getting changed behind the car door so nobody can see you” dance, I did this until I was about 9 when I decided that I was not getting dressed outside and either I would just not go in the sea or Dad would have to put up with wet seats. My Dad was always more keen for me to have fun than to have dry seats, so he let me go in the water as long as I sat on a towel on the way home. I remember the scratchy feeling of sand on the back of my legs as they rubbed against the towel for the whole journey home. As soon as I got home I was the first person in the bathroom, and if I was not then I would make a massive fuss because I was soooooooooo uncomfy. Sometimes when we were at the beach we would make exciting discoveries, like dead animals. We saw dead sheep, dead birds, dead porpoises, and even once a dead cat. Once my brother found a dead starfish and he kept it under his pillow for weeks. Other beach discoveries included things like rope and fishing line, which I would sometimes put in my bag and carry around with me in case of emergencies. Occasionally we would see shoes, and I would worry there was still a foot inside. Dad always checked for me, and there never was. Sometimes at the beach we would bring salt in hope that we could tease out a razor fish, but we never managed. In retrospect I am quite glad, poor wee razor fish.

Sometimes on Sundays we would go to the castle grounds instead of the beach. We went there most days after we got our dog Tess in 1999, but before then it was a treat. We would pretend we were going to visit Winnie the Pooh and we would sing songs about going on a bear hunt. We would climb up big hills and down long paths, and we would tell stories about everything and nothing. Sometimes we would go to the harbour, and because it was Sunday the fishermen would be away and would have left loads of fish lying at the side of the pier. We thought this was a waste of the poor wee fishes so we would throw them back in the water where they belonged. Usually there was a hungry seal waiting near by. One of the seals only had one eye and we called him Sammy.

I loved going on adventures with my Dad. To be honest, I still do

Things I know to be true on the 1st of February 2014

(First posted 1st Feb 2014)

I don’t have anything to say today so here are ten things I know to be true on the 1st of February 2014. I might do these quite often, because I quite often will have nothing to say but will really want to write something.

  1. People are more likely to accept flyers from me if they have a beard.
  2. I have 52 days until  dissertation hand in , 31 until essay hand in.
  3. If I wake up between 8 am and 10am I will be in a bad mood.
  4. I don’t need anyone else to be whole.
  5. Fear is a tricky thing to describe without metonymy.
  6. There is nothing more attractive than having confidence in your convictions.
  7. I am terrified of being out of sight and out of mind.
  8. Names are important.
  9. My love for poetry is a giant cliché, but I don’t care.
  10. Everything tastes better deep fried.

Independence and Stories.

(First posted 18th January 2013, re-posted 28th Jan 2014)

“It’s not about the past, it’s about the now.  Independence I mean. Well the past is important to a lot of people and that is great, it is nice to have an interest in history. If you don’t look at history then you never learn from it’s mistakes. These things are pretty obvious and over said. Scottish History excites me, I can’t deny that,  but so does any good story. Stories are what make life worth living as far as I am concerned.Scotland is at a really important part in her story, where either she gets independence and can then decide what is going to happen next by herself,  or everything stays the same and her story continues to be written by someone who isn’t living it.  Someone who doesn’t have to live it. Someone who would never want to live it.

Mostly everyone cares about politics. You might not think it’s true, but everything in life relates to politics. What a lot of people don’t care about is party politics, and that is okay. People need to separate party politics from the independence referendum. I don’t read everything about the independence debate because a lot of it bores me. There is nothing anyone could say to me to persuade me that Scotland shouldn’t get independence,  and you might say that is narrow minded or what ever but it is something I believe with every fiber of my being, something that I have always known and believed since a very young age. I just know. And that puts people off. How can you just know? Well isn’t it obvious,  it would make the story better. What happens if we don’t get independence? We stay the same. What happens if we do? We can let Scotland decide.”

This is from an old blog post from the 18th of January 2013. It is from before I got really involved with the Yes campaign. This is what I started out thinking, and really I still think the same with the exception that I do try to read everything about the independence referendum because nothing excites me more


(First posted 12th May 2013, re-posted 28th Jan 2014)

“I am not a good writer. I was, once, but now I get too caught up in the words. I think about them too much. I care too much about dictionary definitions and connotations. I get lost in metaphors. I can’t send a sentence into the internet without thinking about its permanence. The fact it will now be there forever. The idea of this makes me feel like there is a lot of pressure put on me to make what I am going to write be something that I won’t worry about people reading. I won’t regret an apostrophe, I won’t wish I’d spelt something with an extra ‘r’, I won’t be embarrassed by how liberal I’ve been with exclamation marks. Even there I used a thesaurus to find a synonym of regret (and couldn’t find one that was a true synonym). I am plagued by my desire to please. I don’t want to be ridiculed for my punctuation, grammar, or word choice. Writing, for me, is the equivalent of that outfit that you have in the back of your cupboard, but you won’t wear it because you are too worried about what people will think. Recently I have come to be of the opinion that it doesn’t matter what people think of my outfits, in fact I now believe that it doesn’t matter what people think of my appearance in general. I also no longer care about what people think of what I say. I will say what ever I feel like saying, and use what word choice and grammar I fancy. I am unable to do this for writing though, and I think the reason for this might be that, aside from in photographs and hurt feelings, my outfits and speech don’t leave anything behind. They are almost ephemeral. When I type the words are here to stay in plain view for everyone to see, forever. Or until I delete them.”

The above is from an old blog post from the 9th of May 2012. I think it is still relevant.

New rule

(First posted 28th Jan 2014)

Okay new rule, I am not going to predict when my next blog will be or what it will be about again. If I have an idea for a blog I am just going to write it there and then and that will be that. Life is too unpredictable for predictions. I set myself up for so many falls by making predictions about what future Kirsty will do. “Future Kirsty will go to the library tomorrow and she will write 1000 words and she will ride her bike and she will go to the shop and buy healthy foods and she will wash all her towels.” These were my predictions for today. In reality what she did was she woke up with a sore stomach, spent all day in bed watching The Carrie Diaries (mindless teen drama which is supposed to be a prequel to Sex And The City), and ordered take away for dinner. Now I am 1000 words behind schedule, under exercised, I have to have noodle soup for breakfast, and I have no clean towels. I need to stop trying to plan ahead like that. I should just set myself the goals of stay healthy, make sure my family and friends know I love them, pass uni, get Scottish independence. Those are really the most important things. Probably not in that order realistically, but still those are the goals I should be thinking about when I go to bed, not silly short term ones. I should plan what uni work I am going to do, what food I am feeling like, what chores and exercise I am feeling up to, all on the day I am doing it. There is no point in planning before because I just constantly disappoint myself and then I end up getting really upset because I have failed at something that should have been so easy. I need to stop being so hard on myself. Yes I have a lot of work to do, and yes there is not much time for me to do it, but I will get there. I have about a month and a half to write 23000 words. That is totally doable. I am reasonably healthy as it is, minus the whole brain disease thing, so just keep eating vegetables, walking to uni/work, and taking my vitamins. I think I can probably set up some sort of automated text that sends to my family and friends every fortnight that says something like “I value you as a person and I love you very much” but it’s probably easier just to eat meals with them and call them on my way to the library, because I need to do those things anyway. As for independence, well if I wear a Yes badge with every outfit and I bring it up in as many conversations as possible then I will hopefully feel less guilty about not making it into the office as often as I would like. As soon as uni is over all I want to do is campaign. We are going to get independence, and so I am certain losing me to my dissertation for a few months won’t damage the campaign too much.