Stressed.

I am stressed.
Why are you stressed, Rachel? You might very validly ask.
I am stressed because a) I've had three weeks of holidays and then within two days of being back seem to have run myself into the ground, although I ought to be able to deal.

b) I feel like a fail, because I am a disorganised leader in a disorganised cub group, who don't tell me where they need me to be except in vague notes, and who aren't there when I turn up (late, although I arrived the first time this evening at the hall early... but had to rearrange my plans).

c) Every time I think I have a handle on something, some serious shit goes down.

d) At which point my father takes it upon himself to point out how shit I am at organisation, how I should be working and how I don't really have any right to not be able to deal.

e) I haven't got the balls (or the physical stamina and motivation) to walk over to the town hall and have a face-to-face discussion with Mike about wanting to drop scouts and just do cubs, even though I know doing both is too much for me, and I am knackered. I am going to take the cowards way out and write him an upstanding formal British e-mail relaying my reasons.

f) I wish hibernation was a human deal, and not just for chubby animals.

e) My bedroom is a festering pile of shit. As is every piece of technology I own. I cannot afford anything new at all.

ARGH.

CRESSTION MARK?

I have just spent the past hour herding small children in creative gardening. One might expect that Scouts would be able to grasp the shapely application of seeds to a bit of soggy cloth - no cigar!

My design, The Cresstion Mark? represents my confusion during cubs, an hour before in which these gems of conversation occurred:

Arguing with 7 to 11 year olds about whether Latin a) exists and b) is a language.

"It's the language of dead things!"

and also a stunner while making flags:

"I'm going to do Fail-land!"

"That's Thailand, dear."

The Cress Dilemma

I am dying; quite literally dying. I have not laughed so much in such a long time.
I just received an e-mail which said, and I quote:

Graham’s doing navigation, I’m doing sharpening tools and we’ve got growing cress for you. The idea is to sow cress seeds onto paper plates through a cut-out paper mask – in a shape.

It tickled me so much. Firstly because the other chaps are doing something vaguely constructive while I have been delegated the position of Head Gardener, but also because of the way it's worded all imperatively, and the way 'in a shape' is tacked on the end like an added challenge.

As Nat says: "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to grow cress. IN A SHAPE."

I am up for the challenge, I accept the mission, and if I do not return, please make my funeral wreath out of cress (in a shape).

What A Week (Part 1)

So first Leeds turn around and hate on me, then Newcastle want me to answer questions and then Birmingham offer me a place. It's crazy! But really damned exciting.

Not so gutted about Leeds as they were a plain English course, and because the best thing about them, really, was their lecture hall architecture.

Biiiirmingham, Birmingham, how I love thee. But also, a bit freaked out that they've not taken Film Studies into consideration with my offer, so I have to get 3 As THIS year, or they aren't interested.

This offer is subject to you obtaining

GCE A level
Grade A in English Literature
and Grades AA in any 2 of
Art and Design -Fine Art
History
Religious Studies

Definitely doable, but definitely means I am likely to run around in hysterics with multiple nervous breakdowns in the limbo time between exams and results. Scheisse!

Bloody excited, though, because this means I have two viable places - a proper and a back-up. Thank sweet Mary Jesus and Joseph (and their donkey).

Also, first impression time being a Scout Leader Proper in the village troop tonight. A little bit anxious, but I'm sure it will be fine, providing I don't start swearing among the little kiddies. :D

I have decided to force a massive confidence boost from now through my 18th year on Earth, by forcing myself into situations I would usually crap myself at, and dealing with it.

That is all,

Tata,

Rachel

Universally Challenged...

This and the next few posts shall summarise the events of the past week.

On Wednesday was the Milton Malsor Quiz and Chips annual event shindig to raise money for the village scout troop. As none of my chums could come along, les parents and I decided to mosey down anyway and head our own team for what lolz it would bring. So we marched on down and settled ourselves at the table, at which point I noticed most of Clan Considine across the room at another table and said hello. :)

Now this whole business was something of an event as, prior to this, we had - all but for the weekly pootle down to The Compass - been mostly strangers to the social world of the Village, shut up in Fort Eames sans front doors and all. This was our (almost) first foray into this world and, without a team of people we knew beside us, it was all a little bit awkward at first. However, the chap who runs the historical society, John, came to join our team and, despite a few awkward moments, things went quite swimmingly.

The highlight, as far as straight questions went was that there was a question concerning a quote I had only read once, a few hours before; I got a bit excited over the coincidence. Also, the dingbats were ridiculous, but fun, although John was trying to work them out very literally, and so failed quite a bit, though we didn't have the heart to tell him.

So, when it came to chips, and they read out the half-way scores, things began to get heated! We were running joint-third with Chez Considine, partly because I had decided to completely forget anything Mr Lomax had ever told me about Native American tribes. D: The fish and chips were lovely (and well needed, after all this!) and we managed to win a couple of cranberry bath-bombs in the raffle. I have since used one, and found it wasn't as bad as the packaging would have us believe!

Many fraught and exciting questions later, it transpired that, far from sticking at third place, we had (somehow...God knows how...) managed to win the thing. :D I may have cheered a little too enthusiastically, and knocked over an almost-empty coke glass.

However, with victory comes great responsibility. We discovered after all the cheerful chocolate giving and things that we now have the job of preparing next years quiz questions. Should be interesting!

Afterwards, being by this time so used to the social situation that I was practically a village socialite, I approached Mike, the question-waller-cum-scout leader and asked if he needed any help organising and running the village cubs and scouts. To my delight, he said something about biting my hand off, and so my return to scouting is now in the works! Intensely excited about this, as I have missed doing it so much since leaving Luton and the slightly-pants Roade explorers. Hurrah, Hurrah!