Today, I am defecating bricks.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Tomorrow, June the 15th, is the day of my dreaded piano exam. During the last few weeks I've had piano for breakfast, piano for lunch and piano for dinner. That is, I admit, a lot of piano-ness. However, what I'm trying to say is this:

I AM SO SCARED.

As you know, I started playing the piano again last autumn after three utterly non-musical years. I've always done well in music exams and there is no reason why I shouldn't do so this time. I practised for four hours today and even though everything went smoothly I've spent the last hour or so wishing I hadn't applied for this exam.

My piano teacher told me to skim over my exam repertoire in my head every night before I go to sleep. Last night I was snoring away before I'd got to my arpeggios. Is that good or bad? I really don't know.

I'm trying to comfort myself with the thought that, in less than 24 hours, it will all be over and I'll have nothing but a glorious summer ahead of me. Wish me luck, keep your fingers crossed at 10 am GMT tomorrow and think of me during that half an hour of tumult.

Adieu!

"The rain may pitter patter, it really doesn't matter!"

Bonjour, my darlings.

It's been a long time since I last posted and I'd be a liar if I claimed that many exciting things have happened to me recently. In fact, nothing exciting seems to happen to me these days. That's why I'm bored and therefore I'm posting on my blog! Hurrah!

Apart from being very extravagant (I purchased six dresses in one day), revising for my exams and eating strawberries, I've been listening to lots of old-fashioned music from the roaring twenties. I always listen to an awful lot of funky jazzy music in summer, it cheers me up and puts a big smile on my face. A "big smile" on my face usually ends up in the category of "idiotic grins" but let's leave that aside and check out some music! How spiffing is that?

My favourite sunny tune of this summer is "Sunny Disposish", a song with extremely silly lyrics that border on embarrassing. I first stumbled across it in a lovely episode of "Jeeves and Wooster", the screen adaptation of the equally lovely books by P. G. Wodehouse. If you haven't watched the series, do it now. I'm a big fan of Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, watching them star in a TV comedy series set in the 1930s is one of the best things in the world!
Here are the silly lyrics:

A sunny disposish will always see you through
When up above the skies are black
instead of being blue
Mr. Trouble makes our faces roll on not a smile
Without his saying 'so long' (I'm on my way!)

It really doesn't pay to be a gloomy pill
It's absolutely most ridic, positively sil,
The rain may pitter patter
It really doesn't matter
For life can be delish
with a sunny disposish!

It really doesn't pay to be a gloomy pill
It's absolutely most ridic, positively sil,
The rain may pitter patter
It really doesn't matter
For life can be delish
With a sunny disposish!

I think I may safely conclude that the 1920s were a crazy, silly decade. Positively sil!

Pip pip!

Body snatching.

What-ho!

I should be studying Biology now, as in proper hardcore study with short loo & biscuits breaks. Sadly, I just can't do it. Don't fret, my darlings, my exam is on Friday so I still have plenty of time but I'm rather angry with myself for not being capable of studying when I really, really should. Biology is probably the dullest subject I'm taking this year. "But it broadens your horizons," says mummy dearest. Indeed. I know the names of all glands and bones in the human body, along with about 1000 details considering the nervous system and chemical reactions. The tragedy of all this is that I'll forget most of it quite soon . My head is a windy place. Some things go through it without leaving a single trace. I say, what a nifty rhyme.

Studying anatomy for this exam made me think about how exciting life must've been for medical students in the 19th century. They had to obtain bodies for anatomy studies themselves and, in comparison with the 18th century, it was very difficult to get fresh corpses for dissection legally. In the 18th century and early 19th, many crimes were punished with execution - the legal system of the time is often called "Bloody Code". People were hanged for crimes like stealing anything worth more than one shilling, forgery, cutting down a tree or going out at night with a blackened face. More than 100 people were executed every year, their bodies were available for anatomy studies and medical students were happy and busy; dissecting bodies of executed criminals was legal.

In the early 19th century, the legal system changed which resulted in less than 60 people per year being charged with death penalty. Medical science flourished and the demand for fresh cadavers increased, some sources state that around 500 corpses were needed every year because there were so many medical students and anatomists. Desperate students were willing to hire criminals who would bring them recently buried corpses or, in the most terrifying cases, kill people in order to obtain a fresh body. Back then, surgeons didn't have cold rooms to stop corpses from decomposing so if they wanted to dissect, they needed people who had died recently. Body snatchers were also known as "The Resurrectionists". If you were a 19th century criminal, body snatching was the most lucrative business you could start.

The first most prominent body snatching case were the Burke and Hare murders that took place between 1827 and 1828. Doctor Robert Knox, a lecturer in Edinburgh, purchased 17 corpses from Irish immigrants William Burke and William Hare. Burke & Hare were handsomely paid for drugging poor people, murdering them and bringing them to Knox. When they were discovered, Hare was promised from prosecution immunity if he testified against Burke. Burke was executed on 28th January 1829 and publicly dissected (don't you just love how morbid the 19th century was?). Needless to say, Doctor Knox was free to go because there wasn't enough evidence against him.

Another famous body snatching gang were the so-called London Burkers, suitably named after William Burke. The leaders of the gang were John Bishop and Thomas Williams, who rented a place in Nova Scotia Gardens where they killed previously drugged victims. Like Burke & Hare, they murdered people who were poor and moderately unknown. They also stole bodies from various graveyards - in court they confessed that, over twelve years, they had sold between 500-1000 bodies. They were executed in 1931 and dissected, just like William Burke.

The fear of resurrectionists resulted in people watching over their relatives' graves so the bodies couldn't get stolen. Some people even bought particularly sturdy coffins that couldn't be opened too easily and would discourage grave robbers. Public pressure and fear that resulted from body snatching cases like the Burke & Hare case and the case of the London Burkers resulted in the Anatomy Act of 1832. The act gave medical students legal access to unclaimed cadavers (from people who died in the workhouse and hospitals) and provided that anatomists should obtain a licence if they wanted to carry out dissections.

This is the story of early 19th century anatomy. "You really have a taste for all things morbid," Snow often tells me. Hear, hear, dear chap. I think I'll go back to biology now, I feel motivated. At least I don't have to steal bodies in order to study anatomy, that's jolly nice, isn't it?

Pip pip,
Linnet

Apparently I have a totally different sense of humour.

So I've spent the last seven days listening to people telling me how they're going to lose weight, eat healthily, become less shy, yadda yadda.

"And what's YOUR New Year's Resolution?"

Well, I have none. Why? Because I'm haughty and obnoxious. Yes, I could be less sarcastic. I could be nicer to people I don't like. I could be more outgoing. But frankly, these changes wouldn't have a positive effect on me. They'd simply result in me becoming more suited to, y'know... other people. I don't want to adapt and assimilate. I'm quite happy with myself, thank you very much. I change all the time anyway but the core remains the same and I like it. When I make resolutions, I choose a random day, it doesn't have to be January 1st.

I don't need a crystal ball to predict what's going to happen in 2010 so I can tell you.
"Please don't, we're not interested in that life of yours," I hear you whimper. I'll tell you anyway.

I'll turn 18. This doesn't mean I'll suddenly become a) more responsible, b) wiser.
Some of my friends will turn 18 too. This doesn't mean they'll become a) more responsible, b) wiser.
Some people will also turn 19, 20, 80, 45, etc. This also doesn't mean they'll become more responsible or wiser.
I'll buy a new camera.
I'll finish grade 7 piano.
I'll spend the summer abroad.
I'll talk to The Escapist. It's a futile task but at least I'll feel like a great, courageous person after he tells me to get lost.
I'll learn Swedish. At least a little bit. Lite grann.
I'll read/sew/write a lot.

I'd like to meet new people too. Intelligent, nice ones. Not the nasty kind, thank you.

Oh, wait. I do have a New Year's resolution. I'll mend all socks that have holes in them. If there ever was a noble resolution, this is it.

Back at last.

I haven't written anything for ages because I spent a week in Sweden and when I got back home I had to work for school at double speed as I missed quite a lot when I was away. Sweden is a beautiful country and I'd love to go back again as soon as possible. The Swedish way of life is adorable, everybody is so kind and calm. I really liked the nature; the landscape with all its lakes and birch trees made me uncommonly happy.

A lovely lake in Sweden.

However, now I'm back on track, balancing school, music lessons and sewing. I'm a real nerd this academic year, especially in my History class. I can't help it, it's just all so very interesting! I think I've become a little obsessed with organising my papers and labelling them, every time I finish my homework I start shuffling the papers about to make everything look prettier, more organised and more logical. I even rewrite stuff using lovely pens and crayons every now and then. It looks so much better when it's copied out nicely with some drawings and colourful notes added. I assure you this isn't vanity or aesthetic elitism, it's just my creative form of revision. :)

I'm getting a new camera for my birthday - I suspect this is going to turn into a photo blog then!

My Piano And I

It's a horrible relationship, I admit. It's horrible because it's so passionate. I love the piano more than anything. I've only realised it a month ago. There are days when I feel like attacking it with a hammer and crushing the keys, making it silent forever. Why? Because I love it so much, because I get so immersed in playing and because I get so frustrated if a practice session doesn't get well.

Sometimes I'm terribly afraid because I'm putting the piano first. I still remember many days of my childhood that I spent sitting in front of the piano, playing. In summer, other kids were playing hide and seek outside. I played the piano. In winter, they built snowmen and had snow fights. I played the piano. I was always scared of doing sports because I shivered at the thought of injuring my hands and not being able to practise. I was completely and utterly dedicated to music.

I'm writing this because today's practice was awful. I kept sliding out of rythm, hitting the wrong keys, ruining the dynamics, not really feeling the pieces I was playing. I just couldn't concentrate because there were so many other things on my mind. I was furiuos and I slammed down the keyboard lid. I've got to convince myself that it's just a bad day, that this isn't going to happen every single time I have to think about other things. Because if that's how it will be, I'll have to set either aside; my social life or the piano. It sounds overly dramatic, yes. But if you knew how playing the piano makes me feel, you would understand that I have to do my best and give myself to it entirely.

My (very musical) friend once said that an intense "relationship" with my instrument just shows that I'm a musician at heart. A passionate one,Sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it, I'm always somehow involved with the piano and I'll never forget about it. It's a love that will last forever, till death do us part. Maybe that's why I shouldn't be so stressed about today's depressing practice session. The piano will always be there for me and I'll always be able to come back, even after horrible days like today.

I believe that's called love. :)

Insomnia makes me do all sorts of things.

Writing silly blog posts, for example.

As I'm most creative late at night, I've been customising my school stuff for next year (will take photos sometime soon). My übercool binder has a photo of a peacock feather pasted over it, it's lovely! I also did some cute little drawings on the first page of my maths notebook. Perhaps it will make the dreadful subject slightly less repulsive. Gosh, I hope so. Right now I'm glancing at my sheet music binder, winking maliciously and thinking "Thou shalt be customised too!". After a thorough inspection of my drawers I found my old felt tip pens and some awesome long-lost stickers, including the puffy ones with musical symbols on them.

Talking of finding things, I've lost the tiny leather folder thingey where I stored my photos for documents and I need the photos because I'm going to go and buy my student bus pass next week. I've been looking for the photos like mad, I looked everywhere but I just can't find the photos. The last time I saw the photos they were in my purse but then I shuffled my stuff around and who knows where the photos ended up. Arrrrrrrgh.

It's 2 am and I'm still awake. I want to go to sleep but I feel totally perky and lively, I can't help it.

I hate not being able to sleep.
Hate it.
Bleh.