A dissertation on drugs

I have three days to write my dissertation proposal. This may not seem like a long time but something inside me thought it was due in tomorrow so I am relieved.

It's only 1600 words as well and doesn't get marked so I am not panicking too much. I have just changed my topic as well at the very last minute.

I had started writing and researching for my proposal before I decided to change my mind. I can be so indecisive sometimes.

I was going to write about how EastEnders tackles domestic violence, paedophilia and bi-polar disorder but have decided to do something more current. Drugs.

Both EastEnders and Emmerdale have tackled drug addiciton this year and Emmerdale are still playing it out on-screen. Both storylines have been tackled very differently with very different characters in very different situations.

What I want to do is try and find out which soap has told the story most realistically. I have a good idea of which one I think has but want to speak to some people to try and answer my question. If anybody has any views on either storyline please let me know. Every opinion will be valid and used in my research.

Now it's back to the proposal

Have I been slacking or busy?

I have not posted on here for over a week. Do not get me wrong, I have been meaning to since Monday but just have not had the time or I have forgotten.

The weekend was really good, probably the best weekend I have had in a very long time. I had some friends up from the place I work in Cornwall and we did not stop laughing from the moment they arrived to the moment they left.

When they arrived on Friday I met them at Paddington Station. The evening was already planned, we were going to see Les Miserables. I was a little wary at first because I did not think it would be the sort of thing I would enjoy. I was right. I did not enjoy it at all and if anything I could not wait for it to finish. The constant singing and lack of speech drove me insane.

Saturday was spent at Camden Lock Market where I bought a 'Matt Cardle hat'. Then a trip down the canal to Little Venice was followed by a trip to Selfridges. I didn't buy anything. The day was rounded off with a meal in an Italian restaurant in Old Compton Street. Most of the laughing took place in here, the atmosphere was enough to make you smile as soon as you walked through the door. The journey home in a rickshaw was just as memorable.

Waking up surprisingly not as hungover as expected on Su

nday and we were all off to the London Dungeons. It was ok but I wouldn't go back in a hurry (and no I wasn't scared!). Next it was onto Winter Wonderland and ice skating. I had so much fun, an hour on the ice was not enough for me and I am itching to get back there, even if I did fall over twice, both in spectacular style (at least I made everyone laugh).

After doing a Torvill and Dean it was off to Hard Rock Cafe for a meal and far too many mojitos. I lost count in the end...the meal was fantastic though, I think!

Monday came far too quickly and we spent the day in Oxford Street, mainly in Primark and Selfridges (you can't get much different than that). A small pub around the corner was also our home for a few hours before it was time to say goodbye. I couldn't believe how fast the long weekend had gone and before I knew it I was back in my cold empty flat in Harrow staring reality in the face. I was doing uni work.

Please get your violins out now.

A busy weekend beckons...

This weekend is going to be mad to say the least. I have got some work colleagues coming up. Friday we are off to see Les Mis in the theatre, something I am skeptical about because it is not the sort of show I would normally choose.

Other plans on the agenda are to go to Camden, Winter Wonderland and maybe the London Dungeons. Therefore I will be posing as a tourist for the next few days.

Nevertheless I am really looking forward to it.

I won't be posting until Monday at the earliest and I will fill you all in on what happened, how much wine was drunk and what I thought of Les Mis.

Today I am...

Keep calm and carry on

"Keep calm and carry on". A term I have been putting into practise, that was until today and I have no idea why it all changed.

I was in my flat, I had written a story for the HA1, rewritten my commission and my pitch and was in quite a good position in terms of work. However I could not get the layout for my HA1 story right. The pictures were affecting the text and it was not going the way I planned.

This was the catalyst and I started thinking about other things and flipped out. Normally I like to think I have a very high tolerance rate but today I was proven wrong.

Another problem was the fact that I was signed into Twitter and sent a tweet that I wish I hadn't now but seemed so apt at the time. It read: "I'm ready to go home now. Uni can take a run and jump off the nearest cliff as far as I am concerned." This prompted a text from a friend who reassured me that I was panicking over nothing and I had infact done quite a bit of work.

So today I went through these three stages...

...tea solves everything and it's even better with some cake thrown in. Now it is time for some wine, I think I've earned it.

Remembrance. But some people don't remember

Today is Remembrance Sunday and I am sat writing this blog post watching the service from the Cenotaph. I went to the Cenotaph last year for the service and it was truly memorable. I always feel extremely proud to be British when I see the service but actually being there last year made me feel a deep pride that I have never felt before.

I buy a poppy every year and have done all of my life. I can remember being in primary school and sticking it onto my jumper with sellotape because I always seemed to lose it if I used the pin that came with it. Nowadays I use a safety pin if I have one. If not I go through about three or four poppies but I do not mind buying more as the money is going to a great cause and it is a cause I will always support.

I just wish that there were more people like me that understood the significance and importance of wearing a poppy. I am by no means saying that there is only a small number of people that wear a poppy. I was however shocked this year by the amount of people that I saw that were not wearing one. Even if it was just walking down the street or through uni, the number of people wearing poppies was much less than those that were not.

I have always been of the opinion that there is absolutely no excuse to not wear a poppy and to wear it with pride.

Another thing that baffles me and annoys me is the disrespect of some people during the two minute silence on Armistice Day. I was at home for the silence this year because the uni did not hold a silence. One thing that angers me but I won't start ranting about that now. Aside from uni, I was told that many people were not taking any notice of the silence in shops.

I have seen it first hand when I worked for Tesco. I worked on Remembrance Sunday and we stopped for a two minute silence at 11. As soon as the clock struck, the tills stopped, I stopped serving and like I do every year took two minutes to remember those fighting and those that have fought for their country. This, for some people had no importance and while the majority of shoppers stopped, there were a minority that decided their weekly food shop was much more important. It just find it extremely ignorant and unnecessary.

Watching the Remembrance Service really puts things into perspective and makes you realise just how important putting your money in the pot and wearing a poppy is.

I'll second that emotion.

Tonight I have been what can only be described as an emotional mess.

I came home from uni feeling positive about getting my work done and then I watched Hollyoaks. Hands down, the episode I watched tonight was the best episode of the Channel 4 soap in years. A fire ripped through Hollyoaks

village and one of the characters, Steph who was dying of terminal cancer perished in the blaze.

Perhaps the thing that made me shed a little tear was the fact that Steph chose to die. She had admitted that she was scared of dying and when she uttered the words "I'm ready to go now" to her husband who was trying to save her, the emotion just hit me (and I am sure many others). It does not take much to make me cry and tonight was no exception but I still had that little voice in my mind whispering, "it's only a programme."

Another programme that

made me cry was The Pride of Britain Awards. I have just finished watching it and feel very humbled by all of the people that collected the awards. By the second award I was balling my eyes out and now, two hours later I think my tear ducts are completely dry.

The winners were just outstanding. Their bravery cannot be put into words and I have no words to describe my annoyance at the way some people behave, comment and act when there are real heroes out there putting their lives on the line for others. Some of the problems that seem so big for many people are put into perspective and seem even more pathetic.

Some of the reconstructions during the awards were just remarkable. Parts of it left me speechless at the selflessness of some people. These people are the heroes, they are the pride of Britain.

After blubbering like an idiot, I'm having some light relief in the way of The Apprentice: You're Fired.