By way of introduction

Hello, I am Rachel (well, i_am_rachel).

I lead a mundane life in a suburban village with rural pretensions. At the age of 11, I decided to attend a school situated half-way across the county, so I am now lumbered with a long and boring daily commute to school aboard a rickety double-decker bus. I love it though. I am currently 'enjoying' my final year at home with my dad (a 59-year-old balding man for whom true rebellion is writing letters of complaint to the poor souls at Essex County Council), my mum (whose sole source of worldly excitement is seeing whether the First bus service is running on time) and my younger brother (an XBox fiend and omniscient genius- in that order). The poor ergonomics of our house render the coexistence of the family and Sanity a perpetual impossibility: the latter has long-since been relegated to a solitary life at the bottom of the back garden.

This cosy life is, however, entirely subject to change. The shadow of university hangs low in the sky like a yellow skull, made continuously more ominous by both the passage of time and the influence of my boffin friends who are all on the Yellow Brick Road to Oxbridge. I was sadly not accepted to accompany them on this glorious path, so I am now waiting for lesser institutions to condescend to let me in. If successful, I shall be studying English Literature. You must understand that this comes as a huge disappointment to the parents, who are both in possession of PhD's, MSc's and all sorts of other impressive-sounding acronyms. Do remember that the Arts are for those who have failed to wire their brains for the glory of mathematics; in my family, BA stands for Bogus Academia.

So far, this has been a rather negative portrayal of my parents. I will now assert that they are loving, kind and generous, and they always attempt to involve me in their 'little discussions' about such inconsequential topics as the origins of the universe. My brother is similarly accommodating, and once spent 3 hours explaining the first chapter of 'A Brief History of Time' to me in return for my completion of one of his English essays (he views the subject as a worthless drain on his time).

In the time not occupied with eating, travelling on the said rickety old double-decker bus and sleeping, I do my homework. This may seem an unconscionably large amount of time to be dedicating to what is essentially an extension of school, but the awkward truth is that I AM STILL BEHIND. It is now that I should divulge the true meaning of 'homework': homework can encompass many things ranging from QI, Paul O'Grady on Radio 2, Radio 4, Twitter, Facebook, et cetera et cetera. This blog is my new homework and I shall very much enjoy completing it.

In addition to homework and the other aforementioned occupations, I have my 'hobbies'. The list of these was once long and expansive (ranging from high diving to trampolining), but it has now been whittled down to two principal activities: badminton and music. I am in LOVE with classical music, and I mean it. Once you discover it, there is no going back; it is an unstoppable voyage of discovery from that first, seemingly innocuous CD to the shamefully long bills sent from iTunes and Amazon on an almost monthly basis. I am a proud player of both the oboe and the cor anglais, and I devote a great many of my lunchtimes to the school woodwind ensemble. It is run by a fearsome but very friendly woman, whose talents far outshine the bleak setting in which she applies them.

And now to reveal my final indulgence: my iPhone. Like many other devotees, I think I would forget how to walk if I could not feel its reassuring presence in the pocket of my jeans. I am truly convinced that it has become an extension of my body.

So, this is me in a box. Thank you so very much for reading and I hope that you will revisit soon. Bye for now.


Rachel