21. Suicide Prevention Month!

It's Suicide Prevention Month! 
A cause for celebration? 
You might not think so, but I do! 
It's where we celebrate the strength and bravery of those of us who struggle (who are, sadly, always more of us than we might think) and still manage to hold on to life for just one more day, or even just one more minute. 
It's to celebrate every conversation about suicide that people are having right now, because this month reminds us of how much we love our family and friends, and how dreadful we would feel if we lost one of them. 
It's a month of encouragement for all the silent sufferers, to speak out, a reminder for all of us that there is not a single person on this earth who isn't cared about. 
It's a cause for celebration for all who've managed to hold on to life, and a scary reminder of all the things they would have missed out on if they hadn't. 
It's a month of gratitude for all the subtle and even bottomless kindness that we have received from family, friends, strangers that may have kept us alive, even if we didn't know it at the time. 
As well as a reminder that one smile or one hug or one word can save a life. 
Most of all, it is a reminder and a month to celebrate that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. That there are people out there who UNDERSTAND and who will take you seriously and who will help you. As well as people who NEED YOU, because you understand and you will take them seriously and you will be able to help them, even if you don't think you can or are helping them.

20. Fictional Life Tag!

Today I'm in the mood for something fun! This is going to be the Fictional Life Tag. Thanks to geekygirlonline@blogspot.com for tagging me :)

Not entirely sure, but I'm assuming books and TV shows/films are both okay :)

1. What fictional world would you love to live in?

Okay, if you get this I will love you forever: As a child my favourite book was 'Witch Week' (almost wrote 'Witch Wee', there, sorry. Would have been a very different book) by Diana Wynne Jones. I have now, as an adult (no, I am not ashamed) read most of the other Chrestomanci books. So, as he can travel through worlds, I would love to live with him in his castle and accompany him on his journeys. Sorry,  most people won't get this. Actually, the only book of hers anybody seems to know is 'Howl's Moving Castle', because they made a film out of it. I personally preferred watching 'Archer's Goon' on Youtube (another kids' TV series - don't judge). So, if I can't live with Chrestomanci, I would live in... wait for it...

Hogwarts!

Or in the world of Charlie Bone. I loved the books but I've forgotten most of the names of places in the series, so I'll just have to call it 'the world of Charlie Bone'. Lovely. Basically, anywhere where I can use magic and I can make some questionable friends - I'm happy.

2. What fictional being would you be?

A witch. Any witch, anywhere, always. As a child I hoped and prayed I was really a witch and would discover that at one point - no luck yet. But I'm still hoping...

3. What fictional creature/animal would you keep as a pet?

A flying, talking unicorn! And if I can have two, a tiny talking dragon as well!

4. Who would your fictional mum and dad be?

Can I have Sirius and Lupin not die and have one of them as my dad? Or both of them? They could adopt me and I could find my birth parents on a really mysterious journey...

5. Who would be you fictional brother and sister?

I've thought long and hard about this... I mean, I'd probably take any reasonably kind person. I only have one brother and I wish I had ten brothers and sisters! I would take Emma and Billy from the Charlie Bone series as my siblings if I could be as young as I was when I read it, which was about 12. Because I think Emma's about twelve in the first book and Billy's younger. Also I decided at one point if I ever had a daughter I would name her after this Emma and Rachel's daughter Emma from 'Friends'. I hope she wouldn't mind that :D

6. What Fictional character would you have as your best friend?

The Doctor. Chrestomanci. Luna Lovegood. Hagrid. Snape. Stop me. Somebody stop me.

7. Who would be your close girl friends?

Emma from the Charlie Bone series, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Phoebe from Friends, Amy from Doctor Who, Phoebe from Charmed, Nan from Witch Week, Momo from 'Momo' by Michael Ende... Mixed age group, but we'll make it work :'D

8. Who would you chose to be your close guy friends?

The Doctor, Chrestomanci, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Cole from Charmed (I know, sorry), Chandler from 'Friends'. Chandler would be quite confused in this group, though. More confused than Phoebe!

9. Who would be your boyfriend/girlfriend?

Difficult one! Phoebe from Charmed, though I'd have to be constantly afraid she'd die... Which can't be easy for any relationship! Luna Lovegood... And I know I had a crush on Carlisle when I read Twilight :D I  know. Strange. Girls and old guys! And Carlisle's REALLY old. But then so's Edward! And Carlisle's much nicer than Edward...

10. What author would write your story?

If Diana Wynne Jones was still alive I'd hope she'd write my story! And turn me into a witch hahaha. Other than that my story's really kind of boring, so whoever writes it better be prepared to lie! But then, stories are the best lies.

I tag everyone who drank a glass of water today =)

19. Friendships

I'm insanely naive when it comes to friendships. Once we swiftly dance over the threshold between acquaintances and friends, I assume that the friendship is gonna last until we die, or maybe beyond that. I remember talking to some friends, and I think I was the only one in the group who was certain she wanted to have children one day. One of them said: "I wonder what kind of mother you'll be..."
I said: "A good one, I hope. Also, you'll be able to see and make your own judgement."
She looked at me strangely and said: "Well, maybe... If we're still friends..."
I was slightly freaked out by that. For me it was the most natural thing in the world that we would, of course, be friends forever. All those broken friendships of the past were still influencing me daily, but those were things of child- and teenagehood. We were adults now. Surely such a thing couldn't happen between adults? Joke's on me: She left our friend group a month, maybe two months later.

18. UPDATE

A lot of things have happened since my last blog post. I'm not entirely sure why it's been so long. Certainly not for lack of ideas. If anything, I have too many! I guess I've just been a bit busy. And I still owe England a blog post. Because I left England in June!! I miss it!! I'll definitely visit. I would visit now but I have no money :/ 
But good news: I passed my exams over there! :) 
I've also secured an internship in September (in Germany) with a lawyer//two lawyers. They mostly do criminal law and family law, which are the topics I'm most interested in :)
I have to write an experience essay type thing for Erasmus today! We'll see how that goes... You're welcome to give tips :P 

17. Answering Random Philosophical Questions for fun

For today's blog post I'm going to attempt to answer ten philosophical questions. I haven't seen any of these before, and I'm going to write my answer right away. Here we go:

1. Why is there something rather than nothing?
In my experience 'nothing' can be A LOT. If you say nothing you're still communicating, if you eat nothing you're communicating, if you have nothing you're communicating, plus you still have you, your thoughts. In a vacuum there's meant to be absolutely nothing. But is that even possible? 'Nothing' is something we have a word for. People say before the universe existed th3ere was nothing. '0' is nothing. But that's not true, is it? '0' means something to us, it means SOMETHING. Nothing MEANS something. If we say: "If I spend this last 5-pound-note I'll have nothing left" we have a concept of what nothing means. Whenever we have a concept of something, it becomes something, at least in our heads. Therefore nothing IS something and cannot exist. At least not in our human brains.

2. Is it worse to fail at something or never attempt it in the first place?
Well, from a law student's point of view, it's certainly worse to fail at something you're doing, rather than never attempting it, because if you only think of doing something and don't share these thoughts there is no crime. From an anxiety sufferer's point of view I would say that it depends on the situation, but for me, personally, I feel absolutely terrible about either. So, sticking with this logic it is a lot worse never to attempt something in the first place because if you do attempt it, the chances of not failing and therefore not feeling terrible are a lot higher than if you never attempt it in the first place - because then you cannot win.

3. What is the meaning of life?
The meaning of life is life itself. Not 'I think, therefore I am', but 'I exist, therefore I am.' The meaning of life is all these instincts we have for survival: Eat, sleep, make friends, love, pee, run, have fun, have new ideas, be creative, have a family, do sports, music, art, religion... All the things that are important to us are the things we need to survive. You might say: "But animals don't have music, or art or religion (that we know of), surely from an evolutionary point of view these would not be needed for survival?" But that's my point. It is not a disadvantage for us that we need more to survive. It gives us the tools to develop further, and, eventually, to evolve.

4. Does God exist?
Two answers to this one: a) We don't know. b) yes. Sorry, atheists! I symphathise! If we include in what exists also what exists inside our heads - and why on earth should we not? The answer is clearly yes. Of course God exists in the heads of some people. If we do not include this, the answer is: We don't know. You want proof? You can have some. People are working there heads off trying to persuade people that there is a God and finding proof. For me, that's no good. We already know that God is not a physical thing in our traditional sense of the world. Physical proof, for me, disregards what God is about. Feelings, community, future... Whatever your religion is about, if it's mainly about physical objects then that's not a religion about God in everyday use of the word. It's not a physical proof thing. Which also makes it difficult to disprove. Which does not help the debate. So: Why can't 'we don't know' be a valid answer to this question? For me it's certainly a valid answer!

5. Is our universe real?
It's as real as we are! And if we're just stories inside someone's dreams - well then we're real inside these stories, inside these dreams.

6. If you could choose just one thing to change about the world, what would it be?
I'd change apathy to empathy, energy and drive.

7. Who am I?
Is that you or me? I don't know who you are, so I'll just say who I am:
I am a person. A complex being who cannot be imagined inside someone else's head without being stereotyped (side note: As we mostly can't help stereotyping people, try stereotyping people with love instead of ignorance and intolerance). I differ from other such persons in multiple ways: I look different, speak different, think different. In a way, I am an alien, and so are all the other individuals. It is impossible to completely understand another person. I can't even understand myself completely. I exist inside people's heads in multiple versions, each slightly, some very different. These little selves inside other people's heads do change. They change with the person whose head they inhabit and they change themselves, too, dipping into forgotten or misremembered memories from time to time. We all have a version of ourselves inside our heads. But it doesn't even come close to what we are. We try to stereotype ourselves but that's bound to fail. We as people are more than we can define. But that has to be okay. You can celebrate every time you find out something new about yourself. You can dip in more deeply into parts of your personality you need to dip in right now. The possibilities are endless. To answer the question: You, and me, are swirls of endless possibilites, with the ability to rearrange patterns, create new ones or even abandon patterns altogether.

8. What is the relationship between body and mind?
One conceals the other.

9. Do we have free will?
Nope. There's no such thing. We are social beings whose actions will always influence others. We know that. We are beings who bring certain genes to the world which they did not get to decide on. We are beings who are raised to fit into stereotypes, raised to be 'easier' for our parents and/or for society to handle, raised to be adults. We did not choose any of this. As long as our decisions affect others and that knowledge in turn affects our decisions we don't have free will. As long as we're pre-programmed by our gene pool we don't have free will. As long as we are raised at all we don't have free will. There's no such thing. But, of course to the extent to which we do possess it, the freedom of choice, which may be limited, but be our choice and not a random other person's, is one of the most important things to be granted and protected in the world.

10. To what extent do we shape our own destiny and how much of it is up to fate?
I don't believe in fate. Or in destiny. I believe in lucky and unlucky coincidences. These can be random. All we can do is stay positive and work hard and not lose hope. For I do, very much, believe in the power of hope.

16. My Dream Story so far

No triggers. 

Like Carrie says in her book, dreams can change, and develop over time. At thirteen, my main dream was to have friends again, which, happily, I have achieved. As a little girl I wanted to be a writer (a novelist), but as I grew older and didn't read much anymore, that dream began hiding at the back of my head. At 14, 15 I really wanted to be a singer. My plan was to go to a German Talent Show once I turned 16. Why that didn't happen, you can read in one of my other blog posts. It's probably good that I didn't. I wouldn't have fitted in at all. But I still had the dream of becoming a singer. I began writing little 2 minute songs with my guitar at 15, which turned into 6 minute songs at 16. At the moment, I actually mostly write songs which are 3-4 minutes long, yay me :D But I also started wanting to be a lawyer at age 14 (or even 13?), because I was watching WAY too many german court shows after school. The topic really did interest me, the amateur acting could be hilarious, and I might have had a slight crush on some of the lawyers. But that dream slowly faded, and I no longer saw it as a dream, but as a possible option, when I turned 18 and actually had to choose what to study. My main dream was still to become a singer, and be in a musical (which I had developed a love for when my class went to see 'On the Town' when I was 14 or 15. I absolutely fell in love with this musical but also with the entire musical world! I sure wasn't expecting that from a school trip!). But my parents were very clear that music was a hobby, not a profession for me. I still could have persued it, but the truth is, I needed to find my own way, anyway. I didn't want to be like the other singers. I didn't want to be made into something I'm not. Soo I will somehow still try to become a singer, on my own terms. Mainly, I just want to sing. The dream of becoming an author reappeared some years ago when I started writing again and actually completed writing my first little book! This was still when I thought that the hardest part was finishing a book, rather than getting someone to publish it!
Right now I have three career dreams: Become a singer, become a writer and help people. I want to finish my law degree and get a psychology degree as well in order to gain access to jobs in which I can help people overcome really difficult situations. Soo actually I'm persuing four careers at the moment. This is my dream story. What's yours?

15. First chapter of my book 'A Billion Times Me' - Please help to improve it! :)

I've always loved writing and my dream has always been and still is to become a published author. I have finished a couple of books and I have sent queries to agents, but no success. This is the first chapter of 'A Billion Times Me'. Can you please tell me what you think and how I could improve it? Thank you! :) 

One

Rachel

Rachel stared at the slimy mass before her through her big, round goggles. The long, flat magnet that she held in front of her eyes made the mass her own to control. It looked like a blanket. A large, slimy, disgusting blanket.

Fully concentrated, she extracted a fluid from a test tube with her other hand and made it drop gently into the mass. Nothing happened. With a sigh, and still holding up the magnet, she began to scribble down another way to set up the experiment. She did not hear a door open, but suddenly she heard her father's voice. Slowly, she turned around. Her father was peaking through the open door. He gave her a friendly smile.

“Darling, it's ten already. You should be in bed.”

Rachel nodded and pointed at the open experiment before her.

With a shrug and a smile he left to let her continue. He had no idea what she was doing. In fairness neither did she at the moment. But when Rachel turned back to the equipment table, a smile broke out over her face. So it had worked. The liquid she had dropped into the mass had settled in the middle and was now changing colours. There was a puff noise and some smoke which made her know she had created... something. What, she could not tell. She pulled the small-ish stone-thing – was it a stone-thing? - out of the dark mass and wiped it on her lab coat. She looked at it with big eyes but the only significant factor she could find was that it was of a colour and material she could not recognize. It looked like glass but it wasn't glass. It looked like a jewel but it wasn't a jewel. She shrugged and tucked the thing in her trouser pocket for safe-keeping. Then she noted everything in her small, scrawly handwriting. She threw the mass into the chemical waste bin and swapped the round goggles for her angular spectacles with the black frame. She took off her lab coat and hung it on a hook. It stood out quite a bit in that certain shade of pink, flashing laundry incompetence. Oh well. At least she had a lab coat. She released her dark brown, almost black silky hair from its bound. It fell smoothly over her shoulders. Satisfied with the room's clean state she left it, locking the door behind her. Her dad was reading a magazine. He stood up when he noticed her and smiled.

“Proud of you, honey”, he said, “ready to go?”

She let him help her slip on her coat, as it was winter and cold outside. It was a starless night and darkness wrapped her into another coat, one that was as comforting as it was deceitful. Their footprints in the snow were significantly different in size. Rachel had tiny feet, even for her tender age of eleven, while her father had quite big feet, even for a tall, grown man.

They were greeted by the warm embrace that was her mother. Her thick, red hair swirled around as she greeted them. As always, she was excited about everything. Rachel loved that about her, but it could also be highly annoying.

“I could have sworn it was night, but the sun just came in!”, Angela Lake cried out and kissed her cheek.

That was one of the things Rachel did not like about her mum: The fuss she made about her daughter.

“How are you, my dear?”, Angela asked, her blue, innocent eyes looking straight into Rachel's dark, deep ones.

“I'm fine, Mum”, she signed, which did not stop her mother from giving her a tight hug anyway.

“I've made you some soup”, she said excitedly.

Rachel did not like soup. She especially did not like the soup her mother made. It usually contained burnt leftovers. It tasted like her mum meant to poison her. Rachel knew she was trying to be a great mum to her. But there were some things someone else should have taken care of. Cooking, to name a crazy example. Her dad mouthed “sorry” to her. He had already eaten. Rachel sighed noiselessly and sat down on the kitchen bench to obediently receive her bowl of soup. Angela gave her a large ladle full, which Rachel eyed suspiciously. But it did not taste half as bad as she had expected it to.

“Now Rachel, tell me”, Angela Lake began, watching her with that concerned look in her eyes that Rachel so hated, “are you sure that teacher isn't exploiting you? Having you work late like that when you've got school in the morning!”

Rachel shook her head firmly. Professor Dens was not exploiting her. He had never asked anything of her. He had just been kind enough to help her do what she wanted to do.

“I do think you ought to be home earlier on a school night. Your grades are down again...”

Rachel shrugged. Her grades were constantly bouncing. Her mother knew that as much as she did.

“I'm just saying, you have to be careful not to get exploited...”

“I am not getting exploited”, Rachel signed to her and stood up.

She had eaten about half of her bowl of soup, which was more than she usually managed.

“I want to do this. Professor Dens is very kind to me. My grades will bounce back. Good night, Mum.”

She hugged both her parents and left the room.

“We have an amazing daughter”, she heard her father say to Angela, “she's smart. She has the sense not to get exploited. You worry too much.”

She heard her mother sigh.

“I worry all the time. That's the curse of being a mother. Maybe if we had a second child, one with lesser problems...”

“Rachel is fine, darling. We don't have to get ourselves another child to see that.”

Rachel did not go to her room. This was far too interesting.

“Sometimes I wish”, Angela said in quite a sad voice, “that she wasn't such a problematic child. I know that sounds horrible, especially since I work with disadvantaged children, but I can't help the way I feel. Sometimes I wish, I could turn the clock back...”

Rachel knew precisely to which moment Angela wanted to turn the clock back.

“Rachel is not a problematic child, Ange. She's different, that's all. You just want her to be normal. I get that. But I think it is wonderful how gifted she is. She could really make an impact on the world.”

Angela looked up at him.

“Daniel, do you know how many times Rachel's new school called today? Three. And that's not counting that time I didn't pick up. 'What's the matter with your daughter, Mrs Lake? Surely you must know... She's your daughter, isn't she?' Do you have any idea how frustrating it is, to try to explain again and again that you do not have a clue why your daughter won't speak?”

Rachel heard her dad move a chair. She closed further in on them and saw him give her mum a sympathetic kiss.

“Of course I know, honey. I'm possibly the only one who does. You're right, it is frustrating. But if it's frustrating for us, can you imagine how frustrating it must be for her?”

Angela shrugged. “She never seemed to mind much.”

It had all started when Rachel was a proud first year pupil of Springsen's Honourable Primary School. The school took kids with a high IQ in for free. Rachel had passed the IQ test with ease. She was one of three children in her class of ten, who were labelled 'highly gifted'. It had all started so well that her mum had almost died of all the excitement and pride. Her dad had been happy as well, but in a less jumpy and noisy kind of way. Then something happened which changed the small family's world entirely. At first the teachers had thought that Rachel had caught a bad case of stubbornness when she, from one day to another, refused to utter a word. Her parents had not thought much of it either at first, but when several days passed and she still was not speaking, they were severely worried. Nothing had worked on her in the past days. Nothing the school had tried: patience, impatience, praise, anger, detention, suspension, making her sit by herself and all the empty threats an entire team of teachers could come up with had had no effect whatsoever. Mum and Dad, too, had tried everything from yelling at her to giving her a cuddle. When she still did not even make a sound, they started to think there was something very wrong with her indeed. They took her to numerous doctors, from their local GP to even a certified brain surgeon, but they all just gave them the same answer: “There is nothing medically wrong with your daughter. Try a psychiatrist.” And so they did.

Rachel was happily participating in all the activities that did not involve using her voice. But when the lady asked her to answer a question she refused to even try telling her what the problem might be. In the end her parents went to see a specialist doctor and asked him if it was possible for a brain to forget how to speak. The specialist thought that it might be possible, but highly unlikely. The Lakes decided not to put their six-year-old daughter through any more tests, but to accept her and love her for who she was now. The school, however, was not so understanding. Some of the teachers kept pressing on Rachel to speak. They kept saying she was a stubborn, defiant and stupid little girl and made her sit in a corner. Rachel did not mind. She hardly seemed to mind not being able to speak anymore. She did not mind sitting in the corner much, either. It did not keep her from listening. She listened to every word the teachers said very carefully and weighed it against her own knowledge and values. She aced most of her tests and some of the teachers praised her for it. The other pupils just thought she was weird. Someone spread the rumour that what she had was contagious and from then on no one would sit next to her anymore. In all of that Rachel grew quite lonely and even more attached to listening to what everyone said. She started keeping little notebooks, in which she noted when someone had said something interesting, no matter if it had been a teacher or a pupil or someone she happened to listen to on the street.

When people asked Rachel why she did not speak, she would only shrug. She learned Sign Language in three weeks and tutored her parents, who were still taking lessons a year after she was fluent in it. She never complained. In fact, she did not seem to mind much. After a while, Daniel Lake grew to be exceptionally proud of his brave little daughter. Rachel was exceptionally proud of her father, too. He was a fire fighter and had saved many lives.

Knowing him as family or friend, you would never have guessed he was a fire fighter. He was very clumsy and quite often forgetful. But he was very good at his job.

“It doesn't matter how I act at home”, he told Rachel once, “there I can drop everything, literally and figuratively, and no one will get hurt. If I did that at work, someone might die. People are always as strong as they need to be.”

That made sense to Rachel when she stared through the black frames of her glasses, ignoring the sneering remarks from the children and teachers who seemed to think she had lost her hearing as well as her voice. Teachers never quite seemed to be able to decide whether she was stupid or smart. Some teachers grew very angry at that and gave her extra homework when she would not answer their questions. Some just always gave her a 'C', no matter what she did. Rachel could have been furious at the injustice of that. But she found that she did not really mind. The teachers were bound to their limited intelligence and more than that their limited sense of care, so she could not really blame them for not understanding her. Bad grades did not stop her from learning and they did not encourage her to study more. In fact they made no difference whatsoever.

Her parents had stopped asking to see her work after her dad had once taken a look at a science essay of hers and understood nothing at all.

“I get where your teachers are coming from”, he had said, shaking his head, “maybe you could try to make it a little bit simpler?”

“I will never get anywhere if I make everything simpler”, she signed, “I want to do big things. Change the quality of life on the planet. I don't have time to write simple essays for simple teachers.”

Her father shook his head at her arrogance. But since he principally agreed with her, he did not stop her from treating school work the way she wished to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel had figured out she was adopted at age seven. She told her father a year later. He was surprised she knew, which in turn surprised her as it was so obvious: His hair was goldish-blond, her mother's red, his eyes were green, her mother's blue. Rachel's hair was almost black. Her eyes were brown.

Her father understood that she wanted to meet her birth parents and offered to help her find them. And eventually, they did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man who came out of the big, white house when they rang the bell was undoubtedly her birth father. His hair and lips were exactly like hers. They did not tell him who they were. Instead, they asked for directions. Daniel managed to start a conversation with him about his children. Her birth father, who was called Rupert Lind, was a young man of about thirty years. He had married her birth mother, Tara Lind. They had six kids. All girls. Tara had taken them out with her mother and mother-in-law for an all girls' trip.

When Rachel signed to him he had no clue what it meant. Her dad had to translate for her:

“Are you happy?”

Rupert looked at her in surprise. Then he smiled.

“Yes, little girl, I'm very happy. My family is wonderful and I have a great job. I could not ask for a better life.”

This would have been a queer answer out of anyone. But out of her birth father Rachel found it downright insulting. She asked if she could use his bathroom. He let her into his house. Then he went back outside. It was almost too easy, standing on the window sill and planting the bug just a tiny bit above the curtain unseen. She took a little time to look around. There were photos everywhere.

'My mum', Rachel thought, as she tenderly touched the family photos one by one, 'my sisters.' But it sounded wrong in her head. The children were all tiny. She would have been the oldest by about two years, she reckoned. Two of the girls were twins. Her birth parents had been very busy. She left the house with a sad feeling in her heart.

“All done?”, Rupert asked kindly. Rachel nodded. Then she went over to her dad, her real dad, the blond one, the fire fighter whom she was so proud of, and gave him a hug. Rupert saw them and smiled.

“I hope that I'll have such a good relationship with my girls, too, when they get to that age.”

'Me, too', Rachel thought. They drove off, waving.

She made a habit of listening in on her birth family every evening before dinner. Rupert had not lied, they were quite a happy bunch. The children's names all began with an 'H'. Hanna, Harriet, Hazel, Helen, Hettie and Hilly. They were all very pretty, full of life, intelligent, loving children. It was good that her birth sisters were happy and not missing anything. It would not be fair to change that. It was very clear that they did not want or need her. She had never been mentioned, she was not a part of any of their lives. And she was not like them, either. Neither of her birth parents appeared to have any interest in science. A picture of Jesus hung in their kitchen, above the sink, which Rachel found quite ironic. None of the girls were mute. After three weeks of listening in on their conversations, Rachel decided it was time to bury them. She deactivated the bug in their home via remote control from her bedroom. Then she buried the remote control in her back garden. Then she went to have dinner with her parents. She never mentioned any of it to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Dens was quite a strange figure. He took it to heart to represent the stereotype of the 'nutty professor' at school. He always wore colourful suits and amazingly colourful ties and said things no one else dared or wished to say. Rachel had admired him instantly. She loved that he was different. That he stood out, like she did.

“Well, class”, he had said to thirty-one new pupils, “welcome to this school. You will love and loathe it, no doubt. Usually at the same time. You will learn things here you never wanted to learn and you'll forget them faster than you could imagine. Your goals for the time you spend at this school and also for the time you spend in my class should be threefold: have a bit of fun, call a teacher rightfully a tosser and learn something exciting that sticks to your brain like an expensive type of glue. Now, what do you think glue is made of? Armand?”

A little boy with bright red hair shot out of his seat and answered:

“Skin, bones and hooves of farm animals, sir!”

“Relax, dear child. No need for getting up and calling me 'sir'. What you said was a correct answer, Armand. Correct answers are boring. Lucas, tell me a wrong answer.”

'How does he know their names?' Rachel wrote on a piece of paper and passed it over to the girl sitting next to her.

Before the girl could answer, Professor Dens suddenly appeared in front of them and snatched it out of the girl's hand. He read it aloud.

Before Rachel could get angry, he smiled at her.

“I like to inform myself before I get into the cage with the wild animals. But your name seems to have slipped my mind. What was it again?”

Rachel scribbled some words on another piece of paper and handed it to him. 'Rachel', the paper read, 'I don't speak.'

“Rachel. Indeed”, the professor said, “now, Lucas! Thought of an answer?”

Taken aback, the boy shouted: “Giraffes!”

“Giraffes! How wonderful! Now, wherever did you get that idea?”

“I think I read it somewhere”, the boy said, now suddenly turning pink.

“How practical, on a scale from one to ten, do you think it would be to farm giraffes for glue?”

Lucas thought about that for a moment.

“Five?”, he then said, looking quite uncertain.

“Five! Grand answer!”

The boy looked at him in disbelief.

“It is?”

“Why, of course it is!”

“Blimey”, said Lucas, “I never get anything right.”

“Wait, I'm confused”, a pretty girl with a big, green bow on her hazel-coloured hair said, wrinkling her nose, “do they make glue from giraffes?”

“May do, may not, Rosie. Maybe we'll find out one day.”

The pretty girl looked more confused than ever, while Rachel could not help but laugh.

“Do you find that funny, Rachel?”

He had just been standing on the other side of the room, talking to Rosie, but suddenly he stood right in front of Rachel's nose. Rachel's giggle could not have made any noise. How did he notice it so fast when he had just been talking to Rosie? She considered her possibilities.

1) Lie. 2) Tell the Truth. 3) Faint. She was not loving any of them.

“We're all waiting, Rachel.”

Rachel tried to read his face. He did not seem particularly angry, but then teachers seldom do before punishing their pupils. Rachel did not think that he had a reason to be angry with her, but then again she had often been wrong about that before.

Slowly, very slowly, she nodded.

“So you did find it funny?”

She nodded again.

“Why?”

This left her at a bit of a difficulty. To her knowledge, he did not understand Sign. And writing all of her answer down seemed odd. She had usually just waited until the teachers carried on with their teaching or sent her outside. This one though, she thought, would not give up easily.

“What did you find funny, child?”

Slowly, very slowly, she took hold of her pen and brought it down to the paper in front of her.

'You are a scientist. You're not meant to question the existence of knowledge.'

He waited until she had finished writing and then took the note from her. He read it silently. Then he smiled, put it in his pocket and introduced the class to the world of elements.

14. Dug myself out from underneath a pile of revision notes

Update and tips on how to deal with exam stress. No triggers that I know of. 

Where have I been? Here and there. Mainly to different places in my mind. Some of which I would have preffered not to visit. Who needs criminal law, anyway?

Oh, right. We do.

I wrote two three-hour exams and I was EXHAUSTED. In Germany, it's not even permitted to write two exams in one day (I think)! No matter the outcome of the exams, I'm glad I have my life back now. I'm a panick-studier. Meaning I don't study for some time, then panic because the exams are coming closer, and panic so much that I can't study, until one or two days before the exams. So, as you can probably tell, I don't usually get high marks. But honestly, in life, it's okay, even important to get all kinds of marks. In order to have school prepare you for life, you need to have periods of success as well as periods of failure. It's important. At least that's what I keep telling myself. At school, I often enjoyed writing exams, even when I was bad at them. I liked that everybody just shut up to think for two hours. Sometimes it's good to shut up and listen. To other people, but also to yourself, to what your brain is telling you. Some people talk so loudly, they don't even know what they're saying. They need attention. But they fail to grasp the concept that, this way, they're not getting any attention from themselves.

Okay, weird sorta philosophical rant over.

Generally, I'm happy. Really happy.

I'm not dealing with depression at the moment. I sometimes have what I think are depressive episodes, which last from a day up to several months. For the past couple of months, I haven't had any that lasted longer than a day :)

I've also started counselling, which seems to be working on some level (I also deal with anxiety) :)

I'm going to spend the next couple of weeks reading in different places in England :D And I want to go to Covent Garden and spend a whole day there! Oh, and I want to write a lot and sing a lot! :)

As you can probably tell from the beginning of this blog post – I'm not exactly the most competent person when it comes to exam stress. But I still want to give you some tips, because even if I fail to use some of them, that doesn't mean you have to!

1. Okay, this is the most hypocritical for me: Study long-term! If you already have a good overview of the topics before the crucial week before the exam comes, it's just about intensifying it – and that's something you can actually do in one week!
2. Pay attention in class and do homework! Also hypocritical for me. Sometimes you're just too busy to do homework in detail. But that just means that when you do have time, you need to catch up with that, too!
3. If you feel like you're failing at school that DOES NOT MEAN YOU'RE A FAILURE. It can have all kinds of reasons. Maybe you're unhappy at school? Maybe a teacher is giving you a hard time? Maybe you're stressed? Maybe you just think in a different way from your teachers? Maybe your strengths lie in areas that don't get tested in your school?
4. You are NOT a number/letter! You are a person. At school, grades are constantly compared. But this is a very bad way to judge people. Your grades do not in any way represent who you are as a person. They DO NOT represent how intelligent you are. They DO NOT represent how kind you are. They DO NOT represent how much you're worth. How could they? It's an infinite number!

I have had all kinds of grades. I was never top of the class (I was too lazy for that and also too bad at maths/science) but I was very good at school in some years, especially in subjects such as German, English or Music. In other years I was almost failing. Do you think I was suddenly less intelligent? No. I was just unhappy. It also took me a long time to figure out that it's not about how good it is what you're writing, but how easy it is for the teacher to mark. If it's exactly what they wanted you to write, plus a little extra with a cherry on top, they're gonna be thrilled with your work. If it's a more individualist approach, they're gonna be confused and annoyed. There may, of course, be teachers who are happy to read something completely new, and who actually understand what you're trying to say, and who are prepared to make a judgment call and abandon the strict marking scheme – but that's not the majority.

Of course you're allowed to feel happy when you get good grades, and upset when you get bad ones. But neither feeling should take over. And it's important to support each other in these things. There's nothing better than having a friend be there for you when you have a bad grade, giving you a hug and telling you it's okay everybody gets bad grades sometimes.

5. Create an environment you feel happy and calm in! People have told me again and again how important it is that I clean my room before I study in order to concentrate better. I'm sure they're right. But that could take several hours. Which I don't have. Plus people don't seem to get that completely clean and tidy rooms completely creep me out! There's something not-human about them. I'm not saying all clean and tidy people are aliens. But are you? I'm curious. So: Either clean your room to a degree you're happy with or study somewhere else. Listen to music if it helps you. Use Nanny for Google Chrome to keep yourself from getting distracted. Use fun, colourful fonts or pens to make sure what you're doing is the most colourful – because the eye automatically moves to what is most colourful. A very awesome person I know actually puts WashiTape around the space she wants to study in on her desk in order to be able to concentrate just on that space. Tea and some treats are fine.

6. I'm not gonna say 'don't panic'. Because that's the least useful thing you can say to a person who is panicking or almost panicking, right next to 'why are you panicking?'. Instead I'm gonna say: Be kind to yourself. Sometimes you're too freaked out to study. So? Does that make you less of a person? Does that make you less smart, less kind, less awesome? Of course not! If you just want to sit in your bed with the duvet over your head, eat some chocolate and have a little cry because it's all too much – do that! It's okay. We've all done it. Better yet, go and talk to someone about it. Someone who understands and doesn't put you under more pressure. Take a step back and see that the most important thing is that you're here. And that so many awesome things are waiting for you. And that at the end of your life your main regret is not gonna be: “Urgh, I wish I'd studied more for that exam!” In fact, you won't even remember it. Love yourself no matter how much time you spend studying, how much time you spend procrastinating, or how good or bad your grades are.  

13. Hello! I have holidays! Hurra! What's new! And books!

Hello all you lovely people!
I am currently back in Germany with my family until early May. After pulling an all-nighter to finish my essay (which didn't turn out great. The teacher who grades the essay seemed to hate me and I was having panic attack during the class anyway, so while writing the essay my anxiety levels were UP) I now have time to relax and most of all READ and WRITE. I am still ten books behind on my goodreads challenge and plan to catch up very soon. The book I've read mostly on the train here is 'The Secret Life of Bees' by Sue Monk Kidd. It's a great book and I recommend it very much indeed! They made a film version, with Dakota Fanning, which is also really good! Then I finished reading 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' by Douglas Adams, which you have probably read already, but if you haven't, please do! It's great! Now I've started to read a german book for once. I'm enjoying life very much at the moment! :) I've even managed to write a short story, which is something I usually never do, because I either stop writing before I finish it, or end up writing a book! But short stories are good, so yay. I've also started learning how to sew. Anyone who has known me for a long time will find that hilarious. I'm about the worst person to ask when it comes to doing something in an orderly fashion. But who says clothes should look orderly? Or even like clothes? Screw the system!



All the best,
L.

12. Birthday Blog Post! :O

Today is my 21st birthday! :O

Things I couldn’t do a year ago that I can do now:

Post things on the internet

Be kind to myself

Talk to famous people

Have a positive influence on someone’s life

Trust

Believe that love is not impossible

Be confident in my beliefs

Finish writing a book! And be proud of it!

Write blog posts

Get help because I want to and believe that it’ll work

Experience some moments of pure joy

Be more confident!

Give myself a break!

Deal with my anxiety and stress in a kind, rather than in a self-destructive way

Dance

Have strangers on the internet become my friends

Travel by plane!

Confidently and easily communicate in English

Speak the tiniest bit of Spanish

Write screenplays!

Laugh about some of the bad things that happened to me!

Start a project!

Pull an all-nighter :D

Write poetry slam texts!

Play the ukulele a bit :D

Vlog (sort of :D)

Not feel guilty about what I eat and how I look

And, as a bonus, here are two childhood pictures of me. Because I can :D

11. Me When Writing A Story:

I posted this on facebook before I had a blog and I just thought it'd make a neat blog post! So here goes nothing...Tell me if there are triggers^^

Me when writing a story:

*leans back* and now, finally, all the good stuff can happen to this character that I've grown fond of.

Wait, what are you doing? Why are you going in there? Turn around, turn around. You don't want to turn around? Fine, then. Oh gosh, it's dark in here. Did you bring a torch? You didn't. Of course not. Wait, who are you? Where did you come from? Do we know you? Come on, show your face. You won't? Okay, I don't think this person is good news, so let's just go the other way. What are you saying hello to this person for in the middle of the night in a dark alley? I didn't know you were crazy? Oh, wait, you're not crazy. You're still looking for that person? I didn't know you cared so much. Oh gosh, he's gonna kill you, isn't he. Well, I told you you should have gone the other way. Coming closer. Just run now. Come on, run. You're leaning in to give him a hug? Okay, that's adorable. But he's got a knife. And I think you're confusing him with someone. No, apparently it's your philosophy to hug killers before they kill you. I don't think he's interested in hearing the entire philosophy. Okay, now even HE is telling you to go away. Did your parents never teach you to listen? Wait, what are you doing? How did you do that? I didn't know you could do that. Is he unconscious? Is he dead? Why are you still not leaving? Oh you're... oh you're... taking a picture, aren't you. Wow. Of the dead guy you just killed. Now that's just, that's just sick. No he's not your brother. I could have told you that before. Okay, there is some resemblance, but still. Now are you leaving? Now you're leaving. Perhaps you should call emergency services, but that's not your style, is it? No. Well you can't go back. We all know you can't go back now. Oh Gee. And it's three in the morning and I've got to abandon you for sleep. Okay I've turned out the lights now. And now I can't sleep because my 13-year-old character has just possibly killed someone and is now on the run and I wanted to end this chapter with puppies and flowers „cry“-Emoticon

10. Book tag!

No triggers.

Hello, dear world! Today is book tag day! And yes, I do get to decide that. I do. Trust me, I do. Thank you to http://geekygirlonline.blogspot.co.uk/ for tagging me :)

1. Favourite book

Umm, yeah right :D I’ll give you some of my favourite books: The Stars’ Tennis Balls by Stephen Fry (16 and up, I would recommend), Overheard In A Dream by Torey Hayden (also 16 and up), Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle (just read it), Far From The Tree by Andrew Solomon (non-fiction. Age recommendation for some of the last chapters. I don’t know 18 and up? I’m still shocked by some of the things I’ve read. But, you know. It’s real. It happened.) The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (read it! :) ), Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling, the Chrestomanci series by Diana Wynne Jones (children’s books, but everybody should read them! :D I’ve always felt like her books were constructed like dreams. Truly, like dreams!)…

2. Favourite author

All the ones who’ve written my favourite books! :D Actually, with every author who’s ever published a book I have a sort of love-hate relationship in my head: I admire them, I am grateful for their work, I’d love to meet them, write to them, ask them questions… But I’m also, you know, insanely jealous.

3. What genre do you prefer?

I think I like most genres. I rarely read crime novels or romantic novels, but I’ve read some wonderful books in both of these genres as well. When I was like 15 I found it really difficult to know what to read, because I felt I was too old for the children’s books and too young for the adult books and didn’t really know about the YA genre. Now I just read everything, children’s books, YA books, adult books. Don’t miss out on reading children’s books just because you’re not a child and don’t have an alibi child to read them to!

4. What is your favourite book series, trilogy?

Some of my favourites are Harry Potter, Bartimaeus and the Chrestomanci series :)

5. What book did you hate reading in school?

‘Awful End’ by Philip Ardagh. We had to read it in 5th or 6th grade. Either way, I was eleven. The teacher gave us a bunch of books to choose from and vote on and my class chose THE ONLY one I really didn’t want to read. It’s actually quite an interesting book but I really hated it as a child. My parents and teacher and friends (god, I was annoying EVERYONE :D ) said that once I started to actually read it, I would like it, but I really didn’t. Which in no way means that it’s a bad book, I just didn’t like it.

6. What is one of the first books you remember reading?

By myself? I don’t know. I think it was a story with a red-haired little witch, but I know it wasn’t the first book I read, I just remember it because I read it for my grandma :)

7. Bookstores or libraries?

Libraries. They’re like book stores without the guilt of having spent too much money on books. Some of my happiest childhood memories are in libraries. I love book stores and I love owning books, but there’s nothing like sharing the love for a book with lots of people who’ve read it as well. I like used books. And I’ve recently started putting little notes inside library books, just to let people know they’re loved :) You’ll probably be able to guess where the inspiration to do this came from :D

8. How many books do you own?

I have absolutely no idea. My dad’s awesome, he bought me at least a trailer full of books as a child, most of which are still in our basement. I have very clearly inherited the book buying gene. I might be able to tell you a vague number if I’m at home and REALLY bored :D or I might just wait until a kid walks into our house who wants to show off her/his awesome counting skills :D

9. Do you read before you go to sleep?

If I’m not too tired, I either read, write, or write in my diary (or all the above) before going to sleep.

10. Most comfortable reading position

Sitting. Somewhere. In an awesome chair. Or bean bag. Or sofa. Or floor.

11. Most recent book you read

I’m currently reading ‘Rooms’ by Lauren Oliver and ‘A Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy’ by Douglas Adams. The book I read before that was ‘Ghost Child’ by Caroline Overington.

12. One quote from a book that you love

Re-quote from the Dalai Lama found in Far From The Tree: “(...) the quest is never to lose compassion.”

13. Science Fiction or Fantasy?

Both. Combined. Please.

14. What book do you regret reading?

Apart from ‘Awful End’ it’s a book I read as a young child, called ‘Heute bin ich ein Elefant’ (=Today I am an elephant). I thought the title was intriguing, I thought it was about someone actually turning into an elephant. Imagine my disappointment when I found out that it was actually about a child pretending to be an elephant, and then a tiger, and then I don’t know what! Like in front of her friends and parents all day long! She would NOT have been fun to play with.

15. How large is your book case/ shelf?

I used to have a really large book shelf in my room, but I threw it out because it was impossible to keep neat in any way, and it was annoying me. Now I have several quite small book shelves around my room, and I just put books all around the room as decoration!

16. On average how many books do you read a year?

I have no idea! I can tell you at the end of this year because I’ve started using goodreads! Also I used to not read very much for some years because my eyes started tiring after a few minutes, but thanks to my awesome eye doctor (the other one just said: “Have you tried reading without the glasses? Is that better? No? Well then you should read with the glasses.”) I now have new glasses with which I can read a lot longer, so now I’m back in the game!

17. What books do you read a hundred times without getting bored?

Harry Potter and ‘Witch Week’ by Diana Wynne Jones and anything by Torey Hayden.

18. Do you like to read outside?

I do! :)

19. What is the biggest life lesson you’ve learnt from a book?

That I’m not alone.

20. What is the best book you’ve read so far?

I don’t know! Stop asking me all these impossible questions!

You have? Oh. Now I’m kind of sad.

I tag everyone who has seen a book today :)