London has the Olympics and the Paralympics in 2012 and I’m getting slowly excited for it. I keep seeing the building of the Stadium and the Swimming Arena when I get on to the train to London (which is very rare!).
And now, London 2012 have revealed the Mascots of the Olympics and Paralympics games. Ready?
According to the website, the gold mascot is called Wenlock and he will be the Mascot for the Olympics. The blue mascot is Mandeville and he is the Mascot for the Paralympics.
Now, as much as I don’t want to admit this, I actually quite like the mascots. They look different from all the other mascots I’ve seen from past Olympics. And with both Olympics and Paralympics meant to inspire children to get into sports, this might be a good thing.
But whether Wenlock and Mandeville will inspire children to get active and into sports up to and beyond the Olympics and Paralympics remains to be seen. But I hope so.
For more info on the 2012 Mascots, go to http://www.ourlondon2012.com/mascots for all the links (including their twitter. Yes, they have a twitter!)
EDIT - Just about to upload this blog, two images have come to my attention of Wenlock & Mandeville. Only difference is that they are in Union Jack colours (I prefer the gold and blue myself, but each to their own).
So, last Thursday, Michelle Zink did another one of her writing missions (I try and do these. If not on the date then a few days after.) But this time, I was determine to do this task (write a short story in 300 words or less).
Why? Well, two reasons. I fancied a challenge and, second, she talked about in her blog (which I am very flattered with. [It was my birthday and I was called a "die-hard fan of my work, an online friend, and a supporter of my as-yet-unapproved tour of the UK." [come on, Atom Books. You know you want to...?]). http://michellezinkbooks.wordpress.com/2010/05/13/thursday-night-write-9/
So, the plan was to write a short story about birthdays. Seemed the right thing to write. But stuff happened - Florence and the Machine gig and a weekend of mad - so I got down to it today. Only, I didn't write a birthday short. I wrote this instead.
Oh, the quotes from Florence and the Machine - They don;t count towards my word count. I just thought they were cool lyrics! ENJOY!
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My boy builds coffins for better or worse Some say it’s a blessing, some say it’s a curse He fits them together in sunshine or rain Each one is unique, no two are the same
My boy builds coffins and I think it's a shame That when each ones been made, he can't see it again He crafts every one with love and with care Then it's thrown in the ground, it just isn't fair “My Boy Builds Coffins” by Florence and the Machine. (Taken from the album “Lungs”)
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone “Blinding” by Florence and the Machine (Taken from the album “Lungs”)
I awoke into a world of total darkness. I blinked, and the blackness I saw with my eyes shut was the same as when I opened my eyes. I took a silent breath as I lifted my head, and was surprised when my head made contact with something. Something solid. Something that made a wooden echo. I lowered my head onto the pillow and, gingerly, raised my left hand and touched the cold surface. I felt a strange knot in the surface and realised that the surface was made of polished wood. I moved my hand to above my head. Polished wood. I moved my hand to my left. Polished wood. I moved my hand to my right. Polished wood. I didn’t wriggle down and made my feet check if there was wood. I knew there would be. I knew. I just knew. I was in a coffin. A simple coffin, but a coffin nevertheless. Then everything came rushing back, almost knocking the breath out of me. I remembered the car accident. I remembered the hospital. I remembered the smell. I remembered the beeping machines. I remembered asking for a simple funeral if I did die. I remembered – Was I dead? My hands flew to my throat as I checked for a pulse. Yes. Yes, it was there. Thump. Thump. Thump. I breathed a sigh. Then hesitated. Was… was it my imagination, or did the wood feel warm? Unnaturally warm? I froze as a small wave of horror ran through my veins. I was being cremated. Being burned alive. I relaxed. Shouldn’t I be panicking? Shouldn’t I be screamed? But I wasn’t. I laid there, quite calm. I almost smiled to myself. I yawned, closed my eyes and fell into a final sleep.
Replace my skin with battered leather, Replace my hair with copper wires, Replace my muscles with thick elastic, Replace my eyes with CCTV cameras, Replace my voice with a broken violin, Replace my lungs with deflated balloons, Replace my heart with AA batteries, Replace my soul with a fragile mirror, Because you stole The best parts of me.
I have just LITERALLY finished the third book in the Blue Blood series (Revelations) by Melissa de la Cruz, a book series I have started since JFK airport in New York City so, of course, this series has a small place in my heart connected to the Big Apple.
Now, let's get down to the plot. In New York City, not everything is as it seems. And our heroine Schuyler Van Alen is beginning to figure that out. She is a Blue Blood, one of the City's glamorous vampire elite. Or is she? While she's accused of being a sinister Silver Blood, Schuyler's love life gets complicated. She is in love with Jack Force, another Blue Blood, but he is soon-to-be-bonded (and twin) with Schuyler's arch enemy, Mimi. Plus, her best friend, Oliver, is falling in love with her.
And all the while, Bliss (friend to both Schuyler and Mimi) is suffering from blackouts and bizarre visions of a man in a white suite. Is she going mad, or is there something more sinister going on?
And now, the risk of the Silver Bloods is rising. The stakes are high, loyalties will be tested and the battle will in end in bloodshed. But the question is, who will survive?
Keeping this short, but like I've always said, the Blue Blood series is a guilty pleasure. Like Gossip Girl, a TV show I always compare this series to. This will keep you on your toes as, FINALLY, we discover who the Silver Blood is! And I doubt you guys will see it coming!
even though most people know, they’re all waiting. all expecting me to just tell people. tell my family that I’m…
…sigh…
it’s just not easy. why does everyone think that it’s easy to do it? i mean, even i’m not a 100 per cent sure if i am or if this is a phase or if i’m bi or whatever? surely, it shouldn’t matter.
and yet, it does. so much so that people make a HUGE deal over it and then you feel guilty because you haven’t made a HUGE deal over it yourself and then you have to tell people which turns, again, into a HUGE deal.
basically, it’s all your fault. it’s your fault that you were born this way. your fault that it took you this long to realise it and then come to terms with it. your fault that when you have told people, you’ve been the one stressing out on it. and then when you do tell, it’s your fault for being true to yourself. basically, you’re the bad guy.
well, that’s how i feel at the moment. the bad guy. and, oh, how wonderful i feel. seriously, i feel like i’m walking on air with joy!
the horrible feeling i have in the pit of my stomach? nah, that’s happiness. the fact i slept so badly last night? excitement. and the fact I was considering making myself be sick, cutting myself or starting to smoke, just to hide the fact that there’s something wrong? overwhelming pleasure. i live for this kind of shit.
surely, i’m the one i should be pleasing. i’m the one who knows when it’s the right time to tell people. surely, I’m the one to know all this. i mean, this is me and surely i’m the best person to know…
so why do people think otherwise?
so why do i feel like the bad guy? like i’m the one in the wrong?
It's that time again where we list all the choices of music recommended by radio, internet or by you! (and if you do have recommendations on music, facebook it or twitter us! Links below!)
