Sometimes it is best to audition.

I looked back at my blog and found 'Sometimes its best not to audition.'

Now I have a counter argument for it...

Last night I got the letter accepting me into 6 Counties Symphony Orchestra, which is about the best thing I could possibly get into.

And between you and me.

I had a lot of luck.

In our county, only 2 percussionists turned up to the auditions, me and some drummer (who's actually good).

So even then I had a pretty high chance of getting in. (There is the orchestra, wind band, brass band and big band)

I guess I can talk about how it went now, even though I was so ashamed of it I thought I would never want to relive it again.

I played a piece on the xylophone. I stumbled.

I played a piece on the snare drum. It went fine. I thought. Until I had my percussion tuition again and realised I got some of the rhythms completely wrong. But its okay, because the auditioner-person doesn't know that.

Ooft. Then the sight reading bit.

Snare drum first...... It went so well that he had to stop me. Stood next to me. Clapped the rhythm out, while tapping his foot, and I had to try again. He obviously thought I was amazing.... 'Good effort.... but never mind....'

Timpani s. I was supposed to tune the timpani s myself. I hopelessly peddled at the peddle in trying to get the right note. The same thing happened with the snare drum again. They ended up clapping the rhythm out. It was insanely obvious to all of us that I couldn't sight read untuned rhythms. 

So, onto the xylophone.I was looking forward to this. I'm good at the xylophone. And sight reading at it too.

However they already saw my inability, and gave me an awfully easy piece. Possibly to make me feel better.

I played it perfectly.

The thing is. I got in. And I should be selling how amazing I am.

But truthfully, there is a lack of percussionists. And they're desperate.

And I am a bit worried.

I played in the county orchestra concert last week. I played very well in the rehearsals. And fell apart a bit in the real thing. Mainly going too fast. But it was fine. I got a 'well done, but there were some hairy moments'.

So, sometimes it is best to audition. Sometimes you get in regardless of your ability/inability.

To read the 'Sometimes its best not to audition'

Click here!

Long time no speak... and better get complaining

Well hello, its been.. how long, a week and a bit?

Guess what?
I've been in school.

We had a lesson with an awesome substitute teacher, who everyone pretty much loves. It was a biology lesson and my friend was going to write that animal ditribution was affected by 'environmental stimuli'. I was unimpressed. Pretentious much. (In my English essay I only used simple words like 'effectual' and 'portraiture')
So being the mature student I am, I stole her work and gave it to another boy in our class to hide. It got a bit out of hand.
Lets just end it with that she wrote a withstraining order that she got the teacher to sign.
But its okay.
Because the teacher then mouthed behind his hand that he used his fake signature.

Argh. Brain freeze. There was something else I wanted to talk about.

Oh, I had to go see the headmaster. Basically the art teacher sent me and a friend to see him because he had an idea that need executing. Well another student had already been sent up for being naughty, so when I knocked on the door he shouted with a very angry voice to come in.But he lit up when he saw me and asked how I was, because he knows me for the mature student I am.
Anyway, his idea.
He went to the cinema recently to watch 'The Muppets' and wanted to design some posters based on the muppets to get year 11's to revise. Or as we have to draw it... 'Git Revizin'. Or as I can't spell incorrectly spelt words 'Revzin'. Git Revzin.

You know the M&M peanut ones? (Yeah, M&Ms again, I'm pretty surprised). Well in case you don't know, they're chocolate covered peanuts in different colours. Please don't think I'm being patronising, because my mum didn't know this.

So she ate quite a few of the M&Ms and after a few, she complained that they all tasted the same, and all had peanuts. She accused M&M company of tricking her that each M&M had a different flavour. No mummy, thats skittles. And the M&M packet did say 'peanut M&Ms'.
Now I am being patronising.

My parents, luckily, have a good sense of humour (well I say good but they don't laugh at half my jokes so maybe not), and suggested I write to M&M customer service to complain about it.


If anyone works in M&M or knows someone that does, tell them to have a look at this.

Au revoir.

Mmm. Deadliness of irony 3?

On Thursday I went shopping with my mates. Lets call one of them - Jane.Jane came over to my house in the morning, and we set off for the train station 18 minutes before the departure time.
I stumbled around with my boots, attempting to walk.
There was a can on the road by us that was going so slow. Whoops, I meant "van on the road". My brother forbade me to use the backspace key.
There was a van on the road by us that was going so slow. Then, it drove ahead of us. Then, it pulled over. So we walked ahead of it again.
Excuse my bad narration.
So we joked about, saying we overtook the van. Hahahahaha.
We had to walk by a primary school, and there was this sign-y thing that lit up with '30' if you went too fast (over 30 mph theoretically). I made this hilarious joke about how the thing lit up when we past it, but we just didn't see it because we were too fast. Hahahahaha.
Walk. walk. walk.
We arrived at the train station.


And, er, how do I say this.



Well, we missed the train.

By 3 minutes.


Even though every time I set off 18 minutes before I make it in time.

So, er, it seems we were a bit, well, slow.

The next train was in 2 hours.

When I was little,

When I was little, I was a carrot thief.
There I was, probably about 3, just being tiny and doing whatever 3 year-olds did 11 years ago.
Being me, that was most likely, lying on the floor 'drawing' with crayons.
(Source: not memories, but a photo of me lying on the floor 'drawing' with crayons)

And my mum was in the kitchen, cutting carrots up, preparing for the evening meal, and she placed the carrots on the worktable.
And then the carrot thief snuck in, being absolutely tiny she could go anywhere unseen. (My mum may have been in the toilet)
So I pulled the chair to the workplace, climbed on top, and grabbed a handful of carrots.
And ran like the wind.
For my mum had seen me.
I sat at my little table on my little stool, covered the carrots with my hands.
Only the carrots stuck out at both ends,
because,
well, because I was 3 and had tiny hands.

Any orchestra with me in it, will never be prim nor proper.

Sunday morning, 10 am, Orchestra practice...
Percussion section, me, and three other girls.

It was great.... well, as great as it gets.
Me, playing the glockenspiel, hitting some notes every minute in a piece or so.
*** playing the snare drum, eniviously expertly.
*** playing the timpanis.
*** standing by the xylophone, standing there, counting the beats until, I guess until the piece finishes and we can all sit down.

And then there was a ginger kid. He was going to join our percussion section... great, we needed a drummer, who could play the drums. Unlike us, drummers who can't.
So the the staff told him to join us, and we would be lovely and look after him and give him parts to play.

We spoke English, he spoke English. And we know his name is Benedict. Or Benjamin. Or something else. Bashfully I admit to you, (I can't remember).
But the beautiful outcome was that he ended up eating cheese and onion pringles for the rest of the 4 hours in rehearsal. He didn't even produce one note. Wow, thats even worse than my first rehearsal. (Call me Corinne, Corinne the trianglist).
Oh, but then, I can't say much about him eating pringles, I ate chocolate digestives in a piece once where there was one note, which I couldn't even play at the right time, and choked in the pianissimo (very very quiet) part.

BUT, that wasn't even the worst part.
Cymbals,
loud,
sonorous,
distinctive.
And the exact instrument you should not entrust me with.
So, I was given the crash cymbal (a cymbal on a stand, usually part of the drum kit, hit with a mallet).
Well, once they found it they gave it to me.
It was already halfway through the piece when we set it up.
And I started hitting it, (to the correct beat, I must boast)
And, silence, a dramatic clean finish.
HA
And, silence, *crash* (everyone swivels around to look at the culprit) *nervous giggling*.

Yeah, even with the conductor waving for a sharp finish, I continued right through, hitting the crash cymbal with all my might. Being me, I died a little inside. Oh, how embarassing.
I nearly ate my scarf, trying to hide my face.

A writer's block. And lets just talk.

When one finds oneself stuck.
I would not call it a writer's block.
But rather a lack of inspiration.
And though I would not call it, oh I don't know, a lack of oxygen.
It does feel a little empty.
So I will just talk.
Romeo and Juliet.
What we are studying in English.
And I must admit I hate to admit this.
I 'kinda' appreciate Shakespeare.
I guess when you look at something in depth.
There's always more.
And that something more.
Is what makes it so clever.
And how he uses poetry and writing skills.
Well, I wish I had his skills
And then there's my shaved carrot joke.
A joke a fine comedian - yours truly, made up.
But everything think its terrible.
But everyone still laughs at its stupidity.
And in a way.
Thats why its a joke.
Its not clever, but it made people laugh.
In fact, one could say because of how bad it is.
Its good.

And, so with the effort of a tired Friday evening brain.
I wrote a blog post.
About.
Well, being uninspired.

What did the shaved carrot say to the cucumber?
'I'm smoother than you.'
What did the cucumber say to the shaved carrot?
'At least I'm cooler than you.'

I'm joking, its just bad. But considering its the first joke I have ever made up.
I think I have a good chance of being better than Michael McIntyre.

Red car.

Me: Oh look, our car looks orange!
My brother: .....
Me: Oh wait, thats not our car.....

Google. I know what I mean, now stop being patronizing.

Dear Google,
I know you are very clever, even cleverer than my previous welsh teacher (well. its not hard). But you need to stop correcting me.
Yes, sometimes I google myself. So when I type  'Corinne Yau', I mean that. Not 'Corinne Lau'. Thanks.
And when I type 'Ker...' for Kerboodle, Kelly Rowlands still come up. No, I am not trying to look her up but accidently typed a 'r' instead of 'l', I actually want to go on something different. Thanks.

So, Google, you're great, but please stop being so patronizing. I know what I want.
Thanks. Once again.
Corinne 'Lau'

Sometimes its best not to audition.

Well, its back to school now, and every year our school does a school production. Aaaand this year its The sound of music.
Now a lot of people want to audition for parts of the Von Trapp family, because those parts are open to the younger students.

My friend would like to audition, but, I'm a little worried for her. Just because of what happened last year.
She had auditioned for the part of Ariel, in the play Tempest. Unfortunately, she did not gain the part and received the part of a nymph/spirit. Our other friend had also auditioned and also got the part of a spirit alongside her.
In the play, she had one line and the other had no lines. And even worse, they were shadows, meaning no one could see their face.
They went to all the rehearsals, they even learnt other people's lines and they were very dedicated.

On the night, (they only had one performance), the performance was terrible - this is what they told me. And when it was their part...
They stood behind the screen, because they were shadows, she delivered her line - which no one could hear, and they danced.
The lights behind them was off. Meaning that when they dance, No one could see them . All their hard work led up to them dancing unknowingly behind the screen.

Encore.

True Story: The maths genius who got a bean stuck in his ear.

He will hate me for this, so lets not make the future worse and call him by a fake name. JB, again.

Once upon a time, when he was about 8, he was doing work in his room, and I was elsewhere.
He recently made a rainmaker in school, one of those long used toilet roll filled with beans and the ends taped together.
I think it was the boredom, but he decided to empty the rainmaker. He probably sorted the beans into groups or something.

So, unfortunatley, no one was there to witness this first hand, but he put a red bean in his ear.



He put a red bean in his ear.



Probably, attempting to retrieve the bean from his ear, he used a cotton bud. That only made it worse. The bean only got further in his ear.

We tried vacuuming it out, we literally put a vacuum against his ear but that came to no avail.

So we went to sleep for that day, ignoring that there was a red bean in his ear.

Then my dad came home from work, we had called him earlier about the bean in the ear, and attempted to pick it out. But that was a fail too, so they went to the hospital together.


I just went along with my normal life, went to school, and tried to keep it a secret.
All my friends knew about it by first break, I was torn between amusement and sympathy.


He was put on the waiting list for a surgery to remove the bean. A nurse thought this was outrageous, as he just a kid who needed a simple surgery. So he received the surgery in the same week.

Now I missed out all the fun, because I was busy at school updating my friends on this.

*I was just told that, he needn't have the surgery, he was bribed with chocolate to let the doctor retrieve the bean with some simple tools. But he was scared and said it would tickle. Half an hour was wasted trying to get him to agree, he curled up to mum and said he would prefer to keep the red bean in his ear than let the doctor loose on him.

He had one of those injections which made you unconscious and they removed the red bean from his ear.


Of course, the doctors wouldn't just let us forget about this incident, so they returned the red bean to us, the rightful owners in a little glass bottle.
And JB was presented with a sticker that said 'I was as brave as a lion.'

Amsterdam. The level of food service is rather awesome.

Hmm, I think we need a little more rice.

Well gesture to the waitress over there, she's not busy at the moment.

Okay (waves at waitress)

(waitress waves back, as if greeting an old friend.)





(waiter serves the rice onto our plates)
Oh dear, sorry, this is for the other table.
......
(scrapes the rice onto a pair of different plates with his bare hands)

(tucks his oily hair behind his ears with the exact same hands)

Mentoring fail

So I'm going to be a year 10 next year and a few of us get the chance to be mentors for the new year 7 students coming up this year. And on Friday these students got the chance to come up to the secondary school for the day, getting to know their class and school.
One of the activities were getting into pairs and sharing a story of something that happened to you recently. I saw a boy sitting on him own so I decided to work with him.
And because I'm pretty stupid, and only heard the words 'story', I gave him a hell of an awesome fairytale.
While every one was talking about how they 'went to the cinema and tripped over' and 'falling off the bike'. My story went something like....
'Once upon a time, there was a boy who hunted animals everday, One day, the animals got really angry and started and animal army...."
Patronising much? Cringe much?

11 year old learning Welsh in Wales

Let me be extremely clear about this first.
I hate Welsh.
I've been learning Welsh for about 6 years and the most helpful thing I've learnt is 'Ble wyt ti'n sbwriel?' (Where is the rubbish?)
Our teacher is frankly, bad and I'm in the third year in Secondary and I don't even know the numbers up to 20.

My brother, lets call him 'JB' (Justin Bieber/James Bond/Jack Black/), is in his last year in primary and this is the result I got when I tested his Welsh.

Me: How do you say 'he is dead' in Welsh?
JB: Mae e'n wedi blino iawn iawn iawn... (He is very very very tired)

Me: Which sentence do you know the best?
JB: Ble wyt ti'n pine-afal? (Where is the pineapple?)

Me: How do you say 'I am cooking' in Welsh?'
JB: Rydw i'n ddim oer iawn iawn iawn... (I'm not very cold)

Well done, JB, you know more Welsh than me.