And blonde moment of the day goes to...

Actually there are many (oh so many) blonde moments today....

Number one has to be when i thought Jack had a picture of George Clooney as his msn picture, i asked him why he had a pic of GC and he didn't follow, i wouldn't tell him then because it was blatant i'd got it wrong. I found out that actually it was a picture of Roger Taylor (Queen drummer)....how stupid do i feel? Well, not that stupid, if you'd seen the picture (which doesn't fit his whole face into it) then you could so easily have made the same mistake....i'm sure.....

The second blonde moment goes to Msn conversation number 2: with mike.
Mike: and ive made it my life's ambition to try some otoru bluefin tuna belly.
Ali: otoru blinfu tuna bello!
I did of course type what i pronounced...and i couldn't pronounce it!

Third and final blonde moment of the day goes to Msn again, 2 seconds later, still with mike's conversation.

Mike: i thought you got it verbatim actually
Ali: what is verbatim, sounds like some horrible disease
Mike: means "word for word"
Mike: yesterday, i had an epihany moment when Pantera's '5 Minutes Alone' came on upstairs in Sub
Ali: epihany? ephiphany? I'm so lost!
Mike: epiphany. A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.
Mike:learn to use dictionary.com!

I feel so stupid. And un-wise. (sigh) Nevermind.
Go ahead, you can all laugh!

Run for the Hills!

And I am just about to run for the hills after Kirsty's last comment under the post 'True Love'....Meryn, you're welcome to join me, assuming you feel as I do about this! Love you girlies, now Kirsty is in Deutschland we must stay in touch even more and not lose contact. And Thirsty, I'm definately up for the Loveparade if it's back this year. Bring on Berlin....I feel a girly Loveparade reunion coming on....bad choice of words! sorry. Xx

No rest for the Wicked...I must be wicked then!

'No rest for the wicked' isn't that what they say?
The only conclusion I can draw from this, is I must be wicked then. Whether this is conscious wickedness (I don't think it is) or not, it still comes to the same thing.
Work, Work, Work. And I know a LOT of people can empathise with me there. I just don't feel like I've stopped over the last week!
However, after submitting my Lit. review and getting feedback that as it stands it would be marked at a 60 (and it's a first draft); getting 2 essays back at 68 and 73: yes, Black studies was miraculous-still haven't figured out why I got 73 though, and dialogue with Wayne today didn't help either! He just said I 'deserved it' and was 'brutally honest'...is that a good thing then? Hmmm.
Have just handed in another essay today- Play work, which is my focus of worry now-there's always a worry, it's how I function and drive myself; I wouldn't be me if i wasn't conscientious and a 'worry-puddin' as my Grandma has always said. And then, today as if that wasn't enough, I did my counselling skills practical. Phew. That was crazy. I don't think I've ever felt so drained after just 30 minutes -well ok, maybe I have ;-) but not from just sitting and listening to someone else. No wonder we never actually really, truly and honestly listen to people. If we did then I think we'd all die from tiredness and emotional drainage! After the 30 minutes I wanted to cry. I felt this person's anger, frustration and hurt so much. I don't know why or how, because the conversation topic wasn't one that I could directly relate to; but it was like they passed me a ball of these emotions and it just hit me. It was a phenomenal experience and I'm glad I felt that, I'd never, ever have thought I would be able to feel those emotions just from really listening to someone. Listening beyond words, listening to what isn't being said rather than what is, and listening to the emotions. Very poetic I know, but that is the only way I can explain it. Anyone who has been through that will understand.
It made me feel very odd.
Anyway it was all filmed and I plan to do my analytical review of it over the weekend and hand that in next week- I got an extension, everyone else did this last term and handed the assignment in today. I don't want to be too far behind them.
But now all of that has actually been achieved- all of the above. I feel for the first time this year that I'm on top of everything work-wise...only to go to paid work tonight and be told that we are going to have staff training about Every Child Matters, something that has already been drilled into me at uni! Terrific!
well, like I said, you know what they say.....

Dissertation- Lit. Review

I have been so worried about my dissertation, as those who know me well enough know (Jodie, Mike, my sister and my mum!). I didn't think from the word go that it was very fair of my department to expect a decent dissertation- we only got assigned our tutors at the end of last term and it has to be in on 25th may...a deadline looming faster than I'd really like.
After emailing my tutor in a tizz last week and having a meeting with him (being reassured I could put a lot of my Action Research Assignment into it here and there), I agreed to read a lot this week and attempt a Literature Review. Good news folks. I've done it! Yay me, I mean, I'm sure there is a LOT of work to still be done on it, I'm convinced he will rip it to shreads when I send it to him tomorrow...but all the same. It all kind of makes sense now. Now I know what my dissertation is truly about from having eliminated a lot of previous research that has already been done in this field of work. I can concentrate my efforts on the bits that haven't been done, and applying them to my practice. I finally understand about what he meant when he said the Lit. Review would actually determine your assignment; and about the bits of reading coming together.
I never thought I'd understand, but I do now, I really really do. And it's all thanks to Chris Hart, a magnificent author. Without his two books: Doing a Literature Search, and Doing A Literature Review, and the simple diagrams he uses, I'm not so entirely sure I'd have reached this point at this moment. These books should be publicised more for students (And the library should invest in more than 1 copy of each!!)
I am content.
I am also hungry having not eaten since 12, and just done an hour and a half fitness video.

Tea-time
xxx

Radio

Pondering why I always listen to Kerrang!
Well, not always, I have been known to listen to Radio 4 - when they broadcast The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (second time round, I don't think I was alive for the first time round); and even when I was hospitalised in Bath for the quiz, which is very funny, and a bit like 'Who's line is it anyway?'.
When I was younger I listened avidly, in an angsty-teenage sort of way, to GWR our local station- I could recite the adverts off by heart! I wandered to Galaxy (I shudder at that word now) and I even tried Radio 1 when I was 15 or so, before deciding I disliked it intensely. There came a brief fortnight when i struggled with the static to hear Virgin, and decided that was even worse thus returning back to GWR. Occasionally I realise now, they played decent songs, it's just that I didn't want to hear decent songs back then. I wanted crap. And that was mostly what I got to be honest. I was trying (after a childhood filled with Hendrix, the Stones, B52's, The Who etc) to fit in, to be a normal music-loving teeny bopper. And so I bought Smash Hits, and memorized lyrics to Steps, and Boyzone. I even went through a stage (and I'm so pleased it was a stage) of covering my room in Boyzone pictures to try to fit in. I didn't particularly like them, I didn't think they were good, not as good as Hendrix certainly, but then I figured they had to be good. Didn't they?
Everyone listened to them, everyone loved them. So I wasn' t going to be the 'freak' who didn't!
This was how I spent most of my teens, struggling to fit in, desperately wanting to be 'normal'; not realising that individuality and uniqueness are what makes me who I am; and heck, if I think it's shit, then hey, that's fine.
My realisation came in Lower sixth- yes, it took that long. I was an angsty teenager for a long time. I started listening to 'other' music. Music I found in my dad's collection. (I also listened a lot to The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, so much so that I was able to quote more than I should have been able to). I bought a few Beatles Cd's, I got The Rolling Stones 'Jump Back' Illegally copied for me by a fellow geek at school. And then, I bought a Hendrix CD off a second hand stall, and really, really liked it.
The Air Guitar Album mark one was bought for me one christmas, and I did not stop listening to it. But then the real breakthrough came when I went to America.
Oh yes. Who'd have thought the States could show me music, show me my pathway to who I was really.
Those who knew me then, and some who know me now, will have heard of John, or JC. JC changed my life in more ways than one. I owe him for that much.
I remember the day so clearly.
We had been out with everyone- Monnard, Ian, Ellen etc...JC was there. We went to the cinema to see Panic Room (I annoyed JC by predicting a lot of it in his ear!) we were travelling back, and me and Monnard were in JC's car (that beat up red ford with the weird seatbelts) I was in the front, we were travelling down the road, and JC put in a CD. It was Metallica. I remember humming along to 'For whom the Bell tolls'. That was it. I was hooked. When I left, I left with that much changed in me. No more crappy music. EVER. I was going to be me. There were other people out there (albeit in America) who liked the kind of stuff I did, and didn't feel that they had to hide behind pop channels.
Of course without JC I probably wouldn't have realised that I was in a dead-end relationship, going furthermore into the deepening abyss either...but that's another story.
So here I am today, listening to Kerrang! Music I enjoy. Music I like. Feeling good.
Yeah.
It has a feel good effect on me. That's probably why I listen to it. Incidentally just read a chapter in my new Jeremy Clarkson book:

There is a choice. Obviously Radio 1 is out, unless you enjoy being serenaded by people banging bits of furniture together, and Radio 3 transmits nothing but the sound of small animals being tortured. What about local radio? In London there is Magic FM which broadcasts the Carpenters all day long. Of course, the Carpenters are fine - especially when you have a headache - but between the tunes men come on and speak.

Clarkson, J (2001) We let them get away with murder on radio.

TC's

Went to Tc's last night. People there that i knew, people there that i didn't know i knew...it all got a little confusing, but somehow i struggled through with some alcohol.
Just as well really, apart from the guys in the band having very bad problems with their knees and waists - one could only move around from the waist; he kept doing this funny bending thing back and forth, by the end i felt quite sick, what with the other having the same problem but from the knees...well after them there was a cabaret act...which ended with the girl taking off most of her clothes...as jack said 'a contradiction in terms, but you gotta have balls to do that'. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I started off hating it, so false, so artificial, but then got to quite like the style...then the end...hmmm. Maybe it's cos i'm a woman, but, I didn't think it was necessary to take her clothes off.
Call me sceptical. Call me a killjoy...heck call me British- it's just not done!

Essay marks

So today I got back the first mark for my essays that I've handed in. I was annoyed we only got one essay back, when we are supposed to have 2, like Jodie said: I don't think the lecturers realise how much it means to us, getting them back. I'm sure they certainly don't realise how much I work myself up about getting marks back.
Still, today's Action Research one (which bits of it can go into my dissertation) got a 68 which i was proud of. Still, doesn't mean I'm any less worried about Black Studies...

Essays

So, yeah, it's that time of year/month/week again, where I'm writing essays. After 8 attempts, yes, 8 attempts at writing this one, I've finally finished it, and found when I had finished it, I was waaaaaaay over the limit, so I have spent a painstaking evening (interspersed with Relocation Relocation, Brat Camp (in the background) and Desperate Housewives) editing this damned essay.
I have now finished. It is a 2000 word essay, which means at max it can be 2,200 words...I have 2,228...I think, and god, I hope, that is acceptable. I might lie. 2,210 was it? Yes, that's exactly what it was.
Am now living in fear of picking up the two i handed in a month ago (was it really a month ago? feels like yesterday) tomorrow. Action Research I'm not so worried about since talking to Andy about it, but Black Studies...well, everyone knows how much i 'loved' black studies and Wayne is a particularly harsh marker, so I'm really not looking forward to that at all. Not one little bit. Nope, none.

Goodnight (Keep your fingers crossed please) xxxx

Valentine's

Sorry, It has to be done. I feel loved up!

I had a wonderful, wonderful day yesterday. During the day we went to Warwick Castle, which I had secretly organised. And that was amazingly good-medieval modes of torture was horribly fascinating- they had an entire rack there! Also went and saw the state rooms, which were fabulous, if not a little creepy with the wax models of people like King Henry the 8th!
Went through what they call is the 'Kingmaker' when they were preparing for the Battle of Barnet (I am informed that was a major battle, I thought mike was taking the piss when he said that because he comes from near there, but no, apparently it's a battle I've just never heard of, but was large)- I got creeped out in there, because of the wax figures too, I am ok with them if they're behind a barrier, but we had to walk among some of them. That freaked me out. I don't like that. I keep thinking they're gonna move.
Climbed up the walls and towers, chased Peacocks- well, followed them in the hope that they would shed some of their beautiful feathers- they didn't! I got spooked in the aptly named 'Ghost Tower' too, not that there was any ghost. But I insisted on catching up the people in front who I could hear- unfortunately that turned out to be a couple of families with small children. One of the older one's hid round a corner and jumped out and said 'Boo' to a much younger one, who instantly cried in response.
I totally understood her response, and I had to tell mike to 'cut it out' when he was messing around behind me making 'wooo' noises.

We ate a picnic I had prepared and it was a lovely day.

In the evening, Mike came round to mine. We had both dressed up, although I didn't know where we were going. And we opened a bottle of wine I had bought and had chilling in the fridge.
The taxi arrived, and there was a comical moment when we had to ring him back because it turned out that although he rang us saying he was outside, when we got outside, there was no sign. Beginning to wonder if it was a magical invisible taxi, Mike rang him back. He maintained he was outside...Mike began to wonder if he himself was wrong (????) before the taxi driver realised his mistake- he was outside 323, not 223! Further up the road! Doh!
Not an invisible taxi, we made our way to the Jewellery Quarter. I still had no idea where we were going (although I thought I knew from clues given to me a week ago- and I was right).

Went into Lasan, and I felt like a princess. Proper service, Nice people, Amazing setting and atmosphere. Wine pre-ordered! Never have I been treated so well.
As for the food....sumptious does not do it justice.
We had appitizers of papadoms and mint yoghurt- quite traditionally Indian. And that would be my only complaint- I didn't think the Papadoms were that fresh, although they were crunchy, they were also ever so slightly chewy, something papadoms shouldn't be!
Anyway, then came our soup. I was a little suprised as I've never assoicated soup and Indian- but WOW. Tomato soup, with spices and corriander, and what looked like a mini samosa (and i'm still not sure what it was) in it. It came in a little cup, much like the size of an esspresso cup, not much, but it was warming, and just right for winter. Yummy- and that's coming from someone who doesn't like soup!

I chose my starter, as did Mike. We both had salmon. Salmon chunks on a bed of rocket and lettuce cooked in a tandoor oven with spices and some sort of fennel seed or something. Just spicy enough, but not too much. It practically melted in my mouth. I've never been keen on trying fish and Indian- it just doesn't seem to go to me, I like my fish fresh and simply cooked. But my god was this good! I want to re-create it, so if you have a tandoor oven you're giving away, do let me know!

The main was fab too, I had a chicken breast stuffed with many things including I think, pine nuts and spinach. It was cooked in a tomato and onion masalaa sauce and was scrumptious. That came with rice, naan and a side dish of peas and mushrooms in a spicy sauce to share.

Pudding was undoubtedly the best pudding i've ever eaten. Shredded, caramalised carrots, in a creamy sauce, in pastry looking like a samosa. It came with icecream that was balanced on top of a biscuit, with a strawberry, and had strawberry sauce and icing sugar drizzled all over it. I want that again! It was the best pudding ever. It beats the Marks and Spencer chocolate steam pudding! Yes, the one on the advert- it BEATS that by miles.

Needless to say that was not a cheap night out, but I totally appreciated it, the effort Mike went to, ensuring I had the perfect night. I know it's corny but I really felt like a princess the way I was treated. No one has ever taken me anywhere so nice.
It struck me yesterday, before I went to sleep, that I don't ever want to leave mike. He is everything I've ever wanted or needed. And that he loves me as much as I love him. Which is a lot, an awful lot. Before yesterday, I never really conceeded to his loving me equally as much as I do him, I would scoff at him when he said it, and not really believe him. Yesterday showed me, in many ways, how much he really knows me, and loves me; and I was bowled over by it.

Sorry this is gushy, and sickly sweet, but I don't care.
I'm besotted and the person who means everything in life to me, loves me back equally, and thus I'm over the moon and all soppy and happy about it.

xxx

Genius!

Yesterday was funny, after Top Gear, we had to try to think of things for a card Kirsty was making...I suggested minimalism which was the final approach- a little frog sticker holding a heart in the middle of the card!
Then, as though that wasn't enough, we had to think up something to write inside.
Many, many suggestions were made, mostly by me, and mostly silly. Nic, kirst and I were in fits of laughter by the end. Nic blogged about it (http://flashfrequency.blogspot.com) and you can read some of my creations there such as:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Frogs are green,
and so are you!

That got screams of 'no, no' as did most of my others.
Kirst blogged on Nic's blog (this is going to get confusing) about something to do with the fact we're genius' only she said Genii- asking if that was the plural of Genius'.
my response was:

Do you mean the plural of Genius? Geniuses is a plural, although not a correct one I don't think....When I see Genii, it makes me think of a geni out of a bottle...hmmm i feel a poem coming on...

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
Here is a poem,
Just for you!

Here is a Geni,
Sat in his bottle,
Who when rubbed,
Jumped out at full throttle.

"One wish!" He boomed,
Down to Kirst,
Who sat down,
Fearing the worst.

"A card! A card!"
She did shout,
And then for good measure,
She put on a pout!

"A card it is",
He did say,
Clicked his fingers,
And vanished away.

Kirst was left,
Holding the card.
"Goodness!" she said,
"That wasn't so hard!"

Ali, 13/02/06

We still don't know what the plural of Genius is though, or how it's spelt, but we got (if i may say so) a good poem out of it!

Also yesterday was classic quote from me during Top Gear when racing a bobsled with a car down a mountain in Lillihammer.

Me: The road is shorter though!

(2 seconds later) Jeremy Clarkson: The road and bobsled run are virtually the same length.

My career as commentator obviously requires some practice...

Do many people die this way?

(whilst inspecting a race track on a frozen lake, and thickness of ice and the fact that you can fall through it into frozen water...)

"So, do many people die this way?"
"Yes, Two this week."
"And...they're dead?"
"Quite Dead, yes"

Go back to bed

Spent an hour yesterday, yes a whole hour of my life that i'll never get back, trying to work out how to upload a photo to my profile. I managed it to my blog, which i was chuffed about, but not to the profile. And bloody picasa doesn't have a help search engine that you can type your question into...and it doesn't explain to me how I can do it. I am, slowly, going mad.

On a different note, I went to a houseparty last night. Many (many) things happened that were amusing.
This morning i've been told by Jack that apparently I text him (I remember texting, but forgot the content) telling him after he'd left that I'd just had my photo taken with the Penguin of Death.
I had another message on my phone from Jodie. I remember texting her early in the night, before I got too drunk so hers was probably at least fairly coherent, and penguin-less. But I still don't remember the content. However, her reply was "yes, and yes, and yes." which made me wonder...

After stealing Pete's chips and eating them, and trying to pay for them, even though I had no money on me, I was taken home. Probably just as well. I exclaimed when getting to the top of my stairs "Look, neither lucy (points to one end of corridor) or Kirsty (points at other end) are in" Mike was like: just as well really- he's right, i'd probably have woken them up.
Before I collapsed into a semi-coma the last words i heard from Mike were "here are 2 glasses with fresh water in for you to drink, and if you're going to be sick, do it in this." he left. I didn't see what 'this' was...until i got up this morning- I thought, 'why is my bin next to my bed?'

I went downstairs to eat marmite on toast which i had a craving for. Sat down next to Nic in the sitting room. She was watching the men's downhill skiing on the winter olympics. After a while, feeling a little queasy, I put my head in my hands.
Nic said: "Go back to bed"
There was a long pause while i thought, then i replied with "are you talking to me, or the TV?"
Nic: "you! why would I be talking to the TV?"
Ali: "I don't know, maybe they got out of the wrong side of bed!"

I have just realised 2 shocking facts.
1: That I have just eaten a tiny little cake (2 inches x 1.5 inches) which contains no less than 15 different E-numbers. Which surely can't be good?
2: Through talking to Jack on msn, I am turning 22 in 3 months. 22!!! I am scared, I don't want to be 22, I am liking 21 just fine. I am going to ignore my birthday from now on I think.

xx

Sea Horse

Electric shock

hmmm, sometimes I wonder how I've managed to get so far in the world without killing myself accidentally.
I was just changing the fuse in my lamp socket, and to check it was the fuse (not some worse electrical fault) i thought I'd take a short cut and just leave the plastic back of the socket off, while i plugged it in to check. Plugged it into an 'on' socket....forgetting the plastic back is there for a REASON...and exposed wires, and the bits they're connected to being metal! hahaha! yeah, i jumped quite high when the shock hit me...and nearly cried...like a girl. Go on. Laugh. You know you want to, in a few hours, when I'm at the house party drunk I'll probably be having a good laugh about it too.
And while you laugh, answer me, how is it that a seemingly intelligent woman can be so stupid?
No, I don't know either.

Prison

So yesterday I went to prison
No jokes, we all know it was for uni and not because I committed some atrocious crime.
It was amazing.
No, really, It really was amazing. I had so much fun, and I never thought I'd say I had fun in a Prison...but I did.
Going in we got our day passes, and thus by-passed the huge queue of people waiting to go in and visit friends/loved ones- I felt a bit bad queue hopping, but the security dude behind the double perspex bullet proof glass told us to, and I didn't want to argue. He also took our phones and locked them away!
We were treated like VIP's...what a bizzare concept- VIP in prison. Hahaha.
Anyway, had our bags/coats/scarfs scanned through x-ray, walked through a metal detector (which unlike in dublin airport did NOT go off, thankfully), then i was frisked by a female officer, front and back- that was weird. I kinda felt like I'd done something wrong, but hadn't.
We were told by the nice man looking in our bags to walk through the door behind him into a room. We did this. Lots of people followed...after a couple of minutes the door behind us closed. And after 30 seconds of being confined in this 'room' which was just glass, the door in front of us automatically opened. We turned to our right to face a door that we had been told by X-ray man would 'buzz' which was to indicate to us to open it. We waited, and waited. The other people were taken through some sliding bars to a female officer, only when those had closed again (and the other doors weren't open from the glass room) did our door 'buzz'. Through we went into a 'reception' type area where Chris met us.
It felt like a prison at that point. All the security we had had to go through just to get ten feet inside! Chris took us through another metal, barred door, and another, and another, and on the other side of that one was an outside door. We went outside and through the confines of the prison- were pointed out the 'hanging cell' they used to use- nice! Of course it's not in use anymore (although later one inmate delighfully told us apparently they have to keep it oiled incase they decide to bring back that law again and start hanging people). Through a heavy gate, and another, down some steps, and we were walking alongside the cells. The only hassle we had was from a couple of lads in one of the cells who saw us and shouted something like 'hey ladies (muffle muffle muffle)' couldn't make it out and ignored said felon anyway.
Through another gate, and another, and at a door, through the door bit, and the iron gate on the inside. We were into the Education Department.
Downstairs are the workshops, which unfortunately we didn't get to see.
Upstairs after dumping our coats, we met 3 inmates who were working on their files- which were huge. One is a peer mentor in the prison for others who are not so good at reading and writing, and has been offered a place at a university open day in April after he gets out. Another is a fantastic, and I mean, fantastic artist who's work, frankly should be in gallery's; and the third was a peer drugs worker within the prison, helping other prisoners through drugs rehabilitation. All have good literacy skills, and all quite obviously enjoy being in the Education department.
And I can understand why. A completely different ethos undermines that department. No officers are allowed in, unless something serious is going on. The prisoners don't want them there, and frankly, the workers can work better without them too. So what they have is a huge level of trust and respect, which works both ways. Prisoners trust and respect staff, staff equally trust and respect prisoners. This works to a level where they have a whole fitted out kitchen, which they teach cookery in- bear in mind there are knives and all sorts of other weapons, and yet, to date, there have never been any problems. The education is open to everyone who wants to participate in it, and is obviously very popular, although for some reasons they cannot work with some people-those who are a severe risk, although they try to work with as many as possible. During the morning they have English and Maths classes, and the afternoon is given over to more vocational subjects: Art (they have an art room with pottery and everything!), Cookery, Barbering (they have a salon). We saw the barber class, just as they'd finished. They are all learning to be barbers, so that they can be wing barbers in the prison and earn a little money, of course it is also a recognised profession outside of the prison too for when they get out. Everything is accredited with certificates and none of the certificates have HMP on it, so you can't tell that it wasn't done in a college. The workers, tutors, incidentally aren't specially trained to work in prisons, they are just experts in their field who come in to deliver the programmes.
The courses are all proper courses- OCN and Clait for example- that was interesting, there were 2 full computer suites there for them to do their Clait on.
The courses they do (the levels, ie: clait level one, level two etc) are 4 weeks long. One of the programmes run is 'Family Man'; this is about being a father inside prison and maintaining a relationship with the family and children outside prison so that you are not estranged from them when you get out. After the 4 weeks, the people doing this course put on a play that visualises for them what it has taught them. We were lucky- yesterday was the day of the play.
In we went and sat down with 80-100 prisoners in this large room (no officers remember)- it did not feel like a prison, more like a college room. This play was performed, inevitably with the 'police' and 'judge' parts being overexaggerated. But the meaning behind the play was very clear, there were serious issues in there that the actors wanted us to see.
Another thing i thought that was great about it was that some of the staff were acting alongside the inmates in this, playing the role of wife (its an all male prison). Again, it did not speak out to me as a prison.
We were offered tea and coffee afterwards, and cakes that had been made and biscuits. The BBC were there filming it to show positive steps being taken in prisons, and they were also recording it for radio, which will be aired on BBC West Midlands at some point. They were interviewing people afterwards, those in it, the governors who had come to see it, the education officers, tutors, and er..us! Jodie was approached and said 'oh no, I don't like talking into mic's...but ali will' thus i was forced to gobble out something about being a uni student doing CPY and the reason for the visit.
And what did I think about the play?
Again something was garbled out about how wonderful it was, the positive work going on, how many skills the prisoners had and how they just had to use them when they got out.
Thankfully interview didn't last long...I went very red, I do this, if I'm not prepared to do something and it gets thrust upon me. I felt it. Embarassingly I had been talking to a governor just before I was rudely interrupted...so she saw me go red. Arrrggg
There was a presentation ceremony for everyone who took part as well.
All in all it was a good day.
We left after that, after several hours in there which just flew by; this was because there was going to be 'movement'. This is when inmates are taken back to their cells, both from the visitors hall and the education building. The staff have to stay in the buildings then, they aren't allowed out, so we decided to slip out before that happened, else goodness knows when we'd have gotten out.
Back through gates galore, into the old building. There we said goodbye to our hostess, and waited for some more glass doors to open, stepped through, they closed behind us, and thirty seconds later the ones in front opened. We were back in the reception area to face the guards behind the double perspex bullet proof glass to give in our passes and collect our mobile phones.
And that concludes my day in prison.
Not at all what I expected. At no point did I feel frightened or threatened by the prisoners, who were more than happy to talk to us, and were really polite too. There were no officers, it didn't feel like i was 'locked in' I didn't feel claustrophobic in any way. The building we were in was lovely and more like a college than a prison.
However, I am aware (from talking to the Deacon) that not all prisons are like that, not all Category B prisons have that ethos and freedom, and no doubt the cells are actually very different to the education department. I'm under no illusion about that. But I have to say, my visit to that department was a very positive experience. I'd absolutely love to work in that department, I really would. I loved the ethos, the atmosphere, the informal-ness of it.

Am now considering prison career...

Ali
-x-

Attributing this one to Shay, without him sometimes i truly think i'd go mad...

Shay just made me do this, but i am actually really really grateful to my 'Israeli friend' (LOL you love me really shay) cos it's cool...so i'm sharing it here.

http://www.trevorvanmeter.com/flyguy/

Fly to your hearts content and listen to the wise dude on the cloud, he talks sense!

xxx

Describe me in just one word...

So the other night i get a text from Jodie asking me to describe her in just one word (sorry Jodie, but I can't actually remember what i said now...) the text then asked me to send it to my friends and see what response i got.
'what the hell' i thought 'i have 3000 free texts to use, i'm extremely bored, why not?'
And thus i did it.
And here are the responses, just incase anyone wants to know.
Gill: Lovely
Karen: Excitable
Jemz: Super! (like superwoman)
Kirst: Mini!
Ollie: "i would rather not" (-don't know what that was supposed to mean, needless to say i'm not talking to HIM anymore! Spoilsport!)
Simon: Seven (as in years old)
Sooz: Lovely
Tim: Firecracker
Will: Interesting
Andy: Top
Charlene: Witty (followed by: this game scares me)
Natalie: Mad
Mike: Lovable
Shay: Hectic (i think that is an Israeli's way of paying a compliment, but i'm never sure with shay...)
Jodie: Nutter

Feel free to add to the list.

True Love

Just watched 'Meet Joe Black' with kirst and her mike, the film itself wasn't that great i didn't think, although the concept was good, however, one bit really stuck out in my mind.
Joe was talking to some guy- can't remember his name which shows how much of an impression the film made on me! But anyway he was asking whether he loved his wife, guy replies with yes, and Joe asks if his wife loves him. Again, reply was yes. Joe then asks how he knows his wife loves him. The explanation was one so simple and struck such a chord with me. The guy says he knows because his wife knows everything about him, bad and good, she knows his darkest and deepest secrets, and it doesn't matter, she still loves him regardless. That is what true love is.

That really struck deep with me, i can so totally relate to it. It wasn't until those words were said though, that it really hit me...how totally wrapped up in love I am. I think if someone took Mike away now I'd really struggle. I don't know how I'd cope. Not to say I'm totally dependent on him...I'm not...I'm a modern, independent woman (with feet!). But I'm so totally in love. Mike knows my deepest darkest secret- I told him. And I distinctly remember (for it wasn't that long ago) how scared I felt telling him. I didn't think he'd want to know me after. I thought that was it, yet somehow I couldn't stay in the relationship I was in and not tell him. He had to know, we had to have a totally honest and trustworthy relationship. And so i took the plunge and told him what I have never told anyone. What I have lain awake at night more often than I like to think about over the years agonising over it. What I have never even fully acknowledged myself. I took a breath and I told him.

Expecting him to be disgusted, and appalled, instead he just kissed me, and told me that it didn't matter. It was of no consequence. Thus this one thing that believe me has held me back for so long in life, was exorcised from me...as much as it can be, I still think about it, and agonise over it to some degree, but not like before.

This person, this wonderful wonderful person, who had come into my life, loved me, totally and honestly for who I am- which includes my deepest and darkest secret. He didn't care. It didn't matter. I cannot express how much of a relief I felt- it was like a huge weight being lifted from the whole of me, not just my shoulders, for this was something that had come to embody me I think.

That I thought then, is love. And tonight, I was reminded of it, and it brought to the front of my thoughts, the real sinking feeling, that I am totally and utterly in love with him. I wouldn't care (well slight exaggeration, there are some things i would care greatly about) if he had done anything bad, or wrong in the past...for it is just that- the past. It is of no consequence to now, the present, or tomorrow- the future.

It's just funny how some inconsequential lines in a film can suddenly make you realise with a start, how much someone means to you, and how much you mean to someone else. I have no regrets, and never have done about choosing Mike over Christopher. Something that night (other than drunken lucy in the kitchen) told me Mike was The One, I had to be with him. Not like Destiny- i believe you make your own Destiny...but there was something there. I have no regrets.

This is all getting a little too soppy now for my liking, but a blog is here for a purpose, to write in, and to write honestly and truthfully. Both for your readers' sakes and yours. For some reason I needed to get that all onto paper (electronically), I needed to get it out of my system. I feel satisfied that i have done that now...
So now, i think i will go to bed.
xx

Eye Drying & Hair Mascara

Ok, so there i was the other day, doing what girls do best- multitasking, or perhaps we don't do it that well. Desperately trying to get ready for a curry after having a shower, which was all down to doing an exercise dvd for the previous hour- so we can categorically pin this one on the exercise dvd i think...anyway, i had washed my hair, cos it was skanky, in the shower, which took some time, but at least meant i didn't leave the house looking a state. Meanwhile everyone (that is gilly and mike) arrived at the house...so now i knew they were waiting for me (nothing too unusual there, but all the same depressing) so i tried multitasking. Apparently women are supposed to be good at it.
I was...to a degree.
I started off drying my hair with one hand, whilst applying eyeshadow with the other...all ok so far. Then it got to the mascara. I have to say it was only a momentary blip in the multitasking phenomenon. But yes, i did GO, didn't actually do it, stopped myself in time, but i did go to put mascara on my hair, and the hairdryer went up to my eye, which, fortunately i shut in time so it wasn't burned to a crisp...if eyes can burn???!!
So i have coined this phrase Eye Drying and Hair Mascara.

The curry was good.
Although mike managed to fit inside him a hell of a lot of naan bread- and i mean a HELL of a lot.
One family sized Garlic naan to start with (accompanied by Saag) which he proceeded to eat like pizza much to my astonishment sitting directly opposite him. He then ate most of the saag, before delicately asking if i was going to finish my (normal sized) naan. When i said 'no' he took it with glee saying something about only not eating the rest of the saag because somehow he had run out of family sized naan to scoop it up with...don't ask me how he managed that one! He then finished my naan and bits of other people's and yet, when he stood up he wasn't any bigger. I don't understand A) how he can eat that much and B) why he didn't explode!
If anyone has answers they'd be greatly welcomed.

I'm currently desperately trying to write an assignment...this is a welcome distraction. I am finding it difficult as i've never done Play Work and it's all about Play work. The reading isn't helping much either. On the plus side though, my visit to Winson Green Prison is now sorted, after a lot of phone calls, a lot of being passed to various people inside and outside the prison service (professionals not prisoners, and through the medium of phone, not in person!) we (i say we, but really Jodie) finally managed to get hold of the guy we needed to speak to. Expecting him to tell us we need to leave 2 weeks for clearance as is normal proceedure, and him not being able to meet our ever shortening visit date, he surpised us both by saying he could get us in on a day pass with no clearance, and his deputy would answer any questions we have and show us what we wanted. Fantastic. However, it was still, on reflection, much harder to get INSIDE a prison than i anticipated (without committing a felony that is...i'm sure that ensures a shortened route). So we're all set for next Thursday afternoon when we go to prison. My housemates have delighted in this news, Nik especially, saying things like: yeah we're gonna go to GTV and say things like: Ali wanted to be here today, but unfortunately she's gone to prison. I'm sure they will have lots of fun with it.

Right...back to the essay it is then.