2013-05-24T22:02:30-04:00 Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=maia-orme Copyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc. HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Maia Orme Good old fashioned elbow grease. tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1319566 2012-03-04T12:55:40-05:00 2012-05-04T05:12:01-04:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
The last few months have been tough. Exams are finally making an appearance, Prom is actually coming together, and a trio of Dutch exchange students have just joined my school, and oh my goodness, they are adorable.

But, that's not what I want to talk about today. Recently, I came across a series of books that you may or may not have heard of, called The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. And OH MY FRICKIN' GOODNESS THEY ARE THE BEST BOOKS EVER. It's like, every exiting thing that could ever happen in a book, happens. I strongly suggest you read them, because honestly it'll take you a week to read all three books. THIS IS HOW GOOD THEY ARE! Or, if you're the type of person who "hasn't read a book since I was like, seven" then you can just go see the film, which is coming out on 23 of March. AND I AM SO EXCITED. I even have a little calendar in my room counting down the days. I just hope it's as good as the books, because in many cases (e.g. One Day, by David Nicholls, turned into an Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess filled disaster) the films do nothing for the books. Which annoys me a little because I always picture the scenes in books in my head and then when I see them "on the big screen" I get disappointed, and sit there thinking "God I could've done this so much better".

Another thing that I have enjoyed these past few months is parties. Not just the going, but the hosting of parties. One party I had in particular, my 16th birthday party.

And I can assure you, that the people from my school who read this blog are going to be reading and either cringing or laughing. Because a lot of shit went down. Yeah, a lot of people got drunk, and there are a few people in particular who truly excelled at being the life of the party, and I don't think I'll go into direct details about what happened, because my parents tend to read my blogs, but let's just say there might have been a young lady who had had a little too much to drink and got a little crazy. Bless her.

But I can't sit here talking about people and their actions at parties. Because, unfortunately, I too have my drunken stories to share. Like a few weeks ago, when a friend of mine from out of school celebrated her 17th by having a fancy dress party at her house. So I showed up in my skimpy little "ring-master" outfit and got my drink on. However, what my friends failed to tell me, is that when I drink, I tend to become very loving, and that I feel as if I have to share my love... By getting with anyone I can hold on to. Hence why my friends from out of school have given me the glorious nickname of, "slut Maia". Fantastic.

I'm actually having another party in a week to celebrate the Dutch kids surviving living in England for five weeks, and I promise to write about all of the antics that occur. Let's hope "slut Maia" doesn't make an appearance.


Till next time,

Maia
x
]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.1102592 2011-11-19T00:15:23-05:00 2012-01-18T05:12:01-05:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
So once again I haven't written in a while, mainly because nothing exciting was happening in my life...And then...It was Bonfire Night. In the almost 10 years I've lived in England, I have never gone to a proper Bonfire, so this year, I decided to go to the best and most insane one of all! Lewes Bonfire.

And, WOW A LOT OF THINGS HAPPENED! Mainly to do with me, and what a massive slag I was. I'm not going to go into specifics (mainly because some of my loved ones read this) but I did get off with a few people etc etc. I had so much fun, met some really nice people, and the Bonfire itself was actually really cool, especially the fireworks - which were stunning! The one thing I really hated though, was the amount of FUCKING BANGERS PEOPLE WERE THROWING! Normally, I try not to swear in these blogs, but for serious guys, it was frickin' insane in the membrane (insane in the brain, and so on). I pretty much was screaming every two minutes, it was that scarey (well, for me anyway...It was my first time, give me a break!)

HOWEVER. Although it was a fantastic evening, I did one little mistake and now everyone thinks I'm a slut. Great. And what's worse, is the fact that the guy said insident occured with WON'T EVEN ADMIT TO PEOPLE THAT IT HAPPENED!?! I mean, come on now, really? Didn't expect people to be so immature, making me look like a lier. So, for the record (and I know the banter I'm going to get for this) to those who have heard the rumours about me on Bonfire Night, YES THEY ARE TRUE. It happened, and now I'm accepting it and moving on, AND IF ANYONE HAS ANY PROBLEMS THEY CAN TALK TO ME, OK?!!

Well, now that matter has been taken care of, I shall now move on to the more important issues. Like Prom. I decided that seeing as it's my last year of school before Sixth Form and stuff, that I should join the Prom committee! And let me tell you, it is not all just rainbows, punch (the drink, not the violent thing guys do) and pretty dresses. Ok, it can be about that sometimes, but most of the time it's hard work!

There's finding a venue, finding food, finding transport, finding DJs... And that's just the actual Prom! I haven't even started on finding a place for the AFTER PROM party, which I would like to hope it will be awesome, because a girl on the committee came up with the idea of having a ball pit at the after party, which, let's be honest is the GREATEST IDEA SINCE...well, since something non cliche. Like, I wouldn't say "since sliced bread" because everyone and their great aunt Hilda uses that phrase.

But anyway, I am changing the subject, which I don't really want to do. Because I want to talk about PROM! I think that Prom will be great and we'll all have a good time, but I hate the pressure on people to bring a date. I know that's probably more of an American thing, because let's face it, Prom is completley an American tradition, and I'm not really sure why British people do it? Regardless, I think that having a date for a Prom is stupid, and I shall give you two reasons why:

1. You pretty much have to stay with that one person THE ENTIRE EVENING. And what if you hardly know them? Let's say you liked eachother's faces, but hardly knew about their personality... And then you get there and it just becomes and awkward situation for both parties.

2. You make other people feel like crap because they haven't got a date. Which is not cool, no one should be made to feel crap, especially on Prom, which in my book should be the happiest day of a teenagers life, because it's practically the only time where you'll see everyone in your year together at the same time and place.

So, yeah...We've only had one Prom meeting so far, but things seem to be going well! For now at least...I'm sure there'll be a crisis some time soon, BUT you shall all have to wait till next the next time I decide writing!

-Maia x]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.1030803 2011-10-27T19:00:00-04:00 2011-12-27T05:12:02-05:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
1. (Probably the biggest excuse) I was away. Like, abroad away. I went off on a school trip to Nîmes in France with my friends, and let me tell you, it was a rave. Wellnot LITERALLY a rave (though that would've been AWESOME!) but it was really fun all the same. We got to see this am-ah-zing amphitheatre in the town centre, and we used the incredibly complicated French public transport system. We even got to drink wine! It was pretty frickin' cool.

The only downside to the trip was we had to walk, a lot. We even had to walk around 160 steps (I lost count) up this massive tower, though I had no idea what it was used for. I just remember being really scared of how high we were once we got to the top. As well as this, I had to speak French, in public, to actual French people who worked in shops, and in restaurants, and in the train station, etc.

Now, to you reading this, seeing as you are clearly the master of all languages and are sitting there thinking "Maia! French is so damn easy! Why, when I was your age we had to live on our own in France with nothing but a backpack and a sac of dreams..."

HOWEVER, to me it was a proper mission, as I'm sure it was for most of my friends, because pretty much the only words I used the entire time were "Je voudrais" which means "I would like" and then just point at the thing I wanted, or just simply "errr... Do you speak English?" for when times were desperate (the majority of times were desperate).

BUT, the one thing that really freaked me out on this trip (and quite a few other girls who were on the trip too) is how bloody PERVY all the French guys were! To quote one on my friends, "they're so horny, it's actually quite scary!". I don't know whether it was because we were clearly a group of tourists, or they do that all the time, but it was WEIRD AS.

All in all the trip was great and I had a laugh with everyone who was there (except the guy in our group who shouted to some of the guys on the trip that I wanted to shag one of them, not cool.)

2. It is half term! Normally during half term, I'd go on a school trip, then come home and sleep, go into town to watch crappy films, and see my friends the whole time.
And yes, I did do most of that stuff, one day I ended up in a cemetary with some people that I'd only met like, once... But that's I story I'd rather not dive into right now, as it wasn't that eventful.

What I am pissed off about is the amount of homework teachers give over the half term! I mean seriously, it's like they think we have the ability to stop time so we can get through all of this crap. TEENAGERS HAVE SOCIAL LIVES, HOMEWORK RUINS THAT! I can't even begin to describe the amount of history homework I was set, but let me tell you, it's a lot.

3. I am lazy. Plain and simple. I am a big fan of procastination (leaving things to the last minute, not a rude word. Cheeky) and so I put off the idea of writing, as it makes my hands hurt and means I have to think about stuff I've done, which most of the time... ain't a lot.

But, I promise (or at least promise to try) to write a blog every week... or two weeks. It'll probably end up being every two weeks, unless I get bored.

So, till next time my lovely lovelies!

-Maia x]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.991095 2011-10-04T19:00:00-04:00 2011-12-04T05:12:07-05:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
Two weeks ago, after almost a year of what felt like endless rehearsals and costume fittings, my school FINALLY put on it's production of Grease. And let me tell you, it was FABULOUS! I mean, my school is normally infamous with doing dark comedy and depressing plays with no sense of plot.

This all changed last year, when the school play reins was handed over to the music department, who put on a brilliant version of "Bugsy Malone", which was raved about for months!

But what we did for "Grease" completely blew EVERYTHING we did for "Bugsy" out of the water! Everyone was perfectly cast, the costumes and props were awesome... and the singing. MY GOD. I seriously had no idea that there were people in my school with such talent! I know this is very cliche or whatever, but I don't think there was a single person who was crap during those four performances.

On the last night, the amount of tears and emotion was astonishing. Not just because we'd finished what took most of our school year, but because the wonderful girl, and dear friend of mine who played the pink lady 'Marty' in our production, was leaving for Uni.

I don't think I'd ever seen so many people crying in one room (I, suprisingly, was not one of them, but I did hug a lot of people) and I thought to myself, why is EVERYONE crying? True, it's emotional and we're going to miss her loads, but the majority of the people in the cast didn't even speak to her!

To be honest, the only people I thought should have been crying were me, the rest of the principle characters, and the girl's parents. Not the entire ensemble who hardly spoke to her!? Maybe I'm wrong, and most of the time I am, but personally, if I don't know a person that well and I hear they're leaving, I'm not going to burst into tears and collapse all over them! Personally, I think it's a little strange. But maybe it's just me?

Anyway, the Friday after was my school's annual "Whole School Walk". Where everyone walks 14 miles from Lewes to a place called Stanmer Park in Brighton to raise money for the school and for a local charity. 7 miles there, and 7 miles back. I never, ever, walk the whole 14 miles! I'd normally walk the first 7 miles, then attaine an "injury" of somesort and take the bus back with all the other lazy fat kids. Except this year! This year I decided "it's my last year at walking this, I'm going to get off my arse and do something productive!".

I arrived on the friday at school, in my all in one Penguin suit (they encourage you to dress up) and set off walking the first 7 miles with everyone else. And I did! Did I also mention it was one of the hottest days of the year? I ended up just taking my penguin suit off after the initial 5 minutes. After a break for lunch, I started to walk the other 7 miles back to school.

Except after the first couple miles, I decided I wasn't going to walk anymore, I was going to RUN. And I actually RAN ALL THE WAY BACK! The good news? I actually ran about 3 miles. The bad news? I arrived home, took off my shoes and what did I discover? A BLISTER THE SIZE OF AN EYEBALL ON THE HEEL OF MY FOOT. AND TWO BLACK, BRUISED TOE-NAILS. This now means I can't actually walk properly, I'm just limping about like a helpless puppy.

I'm considering popping this massive blister right now, as I kid you not, it's the size of a golf ball.

If I survive that ordeal, I guess I'll be here next time,

-Maia x]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.962525 2011-09-15T19:00:00-04:00 2011-11-15T05:12:01-05:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
I am saying this because this week I have been getting THE EXAM TALK. Mostly from teachers and my parents, but from myself too. It seems that all I ever talk about anymore is exams. Which is pretty boring if you ask me. I mean, I'm not saying I did TERRIBLY in my first exams, but I have been moping about "only getting an A in my Spanish Listening" for a while. And I know what you're thinking. "Maia! What on earth are you going on about, you insolent child! An A isn't terrible! Why when I was your age.... *insert long speech about how things 'ain't what they used to be.'"

But anyway, let's continue with the week, shall we? I had the most interesting of conversations with my new Head of Year the other day. Apparently, according to her, my skirt is just too short. But by only "half an inch or so". This basically means I'm a hippogriff. I mean, hypocrite.

Remember my rants from last week? Well I commented on how the girls in the year below wear their skirts (far too short for any decent person) and now look at me! I am a sham! A disgrace! A.... A....DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW RIDICULOUS CAN ONE TEACHER BE?! HALF AN INCH TOO SHORT!? Why I have the right mind to...to... Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what I have the right mind to do. Because she's not going to listen to me about this situation. Which is what annoys me about some teachers, they just DON'T RUDDY LISTEN.

Take my drama teacher for example. Whenever I walk into a room and he is there, or try to have a regular conversation with him, he immediately erupts with "LOOK EVERYONE! IT'S MAIA ORME! MAIA ORME EVERYONE! DO YOU SEE THAT? MY GOODNESS, MAIA ORME!" which instantly makes me feel like an idiot. And what's worse is that he never listens to a word anyone says, especially me. He'll just stand around singing "My Name is Tallulah" (from the musical Bugsy Malone which we performed last year, I was Tallulah) at me. It's times like these I thank the heavens I didn't choose drama for GCSE.

AND FINALLY, to round off this neat little blog, I have a little announcement! Next week, I shall be performing in my school's annual musical. This year, we're doing Grease, and you'll never guess who I am! Go on guess! Oh alright, I'm Rizzo... Spoilsport. This probably means that I may not be able to write next week *cries* so I shall have to love you and leave you for now.

But, there's always next time...

-Maia x]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.953451 2011-09-08T19:00:00-04:00 2011-11-08T05:12:02-05:00

Maia Orme http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maia-orme/
1. Rumours. Okay, let me go back a bit... So the week before school started, I had my first house party, with my parents out of the house. And with booze. Let's just say, a friend of mine got very drunk and passed out in my shower, with the door locked (what a fun 10 minutes that was!) then after waking up and unlocking the door, dragged me into said shower and got a little too frisky for my liking. This fiasco soon got passed round school like wildfire, and before I know it, people were branding me as "the girl who got with that drunk guy in the shower". And what's worse, the poor guy is not getting so much stick from all his mates about being such a lightweight (it only took him around four beers to get him pissed) that he won't even look me in the eye anymore! Ahh well, I'm sure it'll die down...

2. New teachers. Recently, one of my favourite teachers, who was not only my Religious Studies teacher, but also my head of year, left my school for a new job up north. This means now I have a new RS teacher. Don't get me wrong, she seems nice! She's just what I like to call, a bit of a "n00b" which basically means she's been told the school rules and is planning on following them to a 'T'. Let me give you an example, at my school you have to wear a blazer, and you have to wear it at all times (except in class, where you can take it off). So basically, me and a ton of other people in my class got in before the new teacher and just took our blazers off. When she comes in, she talks about what we'll be learning, her previous teaching background, blah blah blah... Until she stops and says "I've noticed a lot of people in this room are not wearing blazers. I have been informed that you may only take off your blazers once you have asked your teacher. AND DID ANYONE ASK? NO. The next time I see anyone without a blazer on and they hadn't asked, will receive DETENTION." Well, how charming, I thought to myself, you've just lost a whole bunch of respect from me. I mean, honestly! WHO SHOUTS AT YOUR PUPILS WHEN YOU'VE ONLY JUST MET THEM?! If you ask me, that's just a bit ridiculous. But I digress...

3. THE YEAR BELOW. By this I mean, the Year 10 girls. Now, I'm all for wearing makeup and showing off my legs, but CAKING YOUR FACE IN ORANGE CRAP AND WEARING A BELT FOR A SKIRT ISN'T ATTRACTIVE. Well, I don't think it is, but apparently they do... And what really bugs me is, THEY BLOODY WELL GET AWAY WITH IT. I'm not saying ALL of the Year 10 girls dress in this way, most of them don't, but there are a handful who prance around flashing their pants, and the teachers don't even bat an eyelid! It's just a little frustrating, because when I was their age (only a year ago, I know, but still!) I was never allowed to dress in that way! I could rant about this subject all day but there is one last topic I want to talk about.

4. The Year 7s. Sure they're cute and shiny and new, and their bags are WAY too big for their bodies, and don't they just get shorter every year?! But what I (and everyone else in my year) thought particularly unfair was the fact that they don't get any homework for the first two weeks of school. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! I was bloody livid. I know they're new and all, but really? TWO WEEKS? The Year 7s already get to leave for lunch 10 minutes earlier than everyone else, so why give them something else they can rub in our faces? I seriously think our headmaster needs to sort out his priorities.

Well, that's seems to be all my scholastic problems (for now) but believe me, there are bound to be more...

Till next time,

Maia x]]>