Gospel Concerts and Bungee jumps.

HEY THERE BLOG. It's been a while. Having been occupied down by deadlines, lack of sleep, twisted ankles, trips to York and Frosterley and a whole other load of fun stuff, blogging has taken a bit of a backseat...

...but now it's taken the front seat (well, the passenger one...or at least the middle...anyway...).

So, here's some updates on fundraising efforts! 
(I've organised them into neat little bullet points, because I am both super cool and super organised). 

[Fundraising Update 1] 

Had a lovely acoustic night fundraising for  at the beginning of term in Hild-Bede. That was fun. We managed to raise around £70. THANKS to people who played/organised/came. You are all lovely and very talented.

I didn't take any pictures of the actual event, but one of the people who played was my wonderful housemate Harri Endersby. If you haven’t heard her music yet, you’re definitely missing out, and I think you should check out her sweet melodies. So there. 

She’s on the youchoob. (and this is the link to the youchoob). 

[Fundraising Update 2]

Last Saturday, we had a gospel concert at Church. It was wonderful to see God glorified through poetry and song, and we raised £200 for Parkinsons’ UK,which is just SO exciting! All the money raised really will make a difference, I can't emphasise it enough. It was also very exciting and a real privilege to be able to get up and say a little bit about Parkinson's  as a disease. Despite the fact that around 1 in 500 people have Parkinson's, little seems to be known about it by the general public. To be honest, I didn't know much about it until it pushed its way into my life. Perhaps that was better. But I've come to realise that awareness is actually really important, as awareness can aid our tolerance and strengthen our kindness. One thing that those who have Parkinson's are advised to do is to carry around a 'Parkinson's alert card', which states that a) they have Parkinson's and b) might be prone to freezing, slowness of movement or unsteadiness, a tremor, and delayed speech.  I actually find these cards rather amusing, kind-of like flashing some kind of weird special agent ID.  But the reason they're needed is because of a prevelent lack of knowledge. I've seen and heard of many times when people have been unnecessarily intolerant of sufferers of Parkinson's as they shuffle up to the checkout in ASDA or freeze momentarily in the street. It's easy to understand how it's just not practical for someone with Parkinson's to whip out their card every time someone gives them a black look for blocking the can of beans that they want, or for not moving quickly enough in the bustling crowd. I find it heartbreaking that this attitude is often simply down to ignorance, and ignorance is something that can so easily be fought against! 

Anyway, enough from me. Here's a selection of photos of some wonderful and very talented people. (and I dropped one of me in there as well:P). 

(And if you would like to donate, click here) 

Matthew Lombart 

Praise Team :) 

He decided to get off the stage and dance in the aisle. That was amusing.  

Check his poetry out in the link below.

 (The link I was telling you about)

This guy told his testimony in poetry. It was powerful.  

Me singing.


Jokes. I most definitely didn't sing. 

The last song they sang was SO GOOD.

HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! (I was singing it for a while afterwards). 

However, I have to say that the best moment of the night came from an unlikely duo, namely Freddy and Javen, two of the hosts for the evening, when they took the stage to introduce Roy Crisp.

Freddy: 'What's your favourite flavour of crisps Javen?'

Javen: 'Interesting question Freddy, I quite like ready salted. What about you?'

Freddy: 'I like salt and vinegar'

...

...

Javen: Do you know who I really love?  I really love Roy.

[Silence]

...Roy Crisp?

OH MAN. IT WAS SO FUNNY. (But let's just say they very much avoided Roy after the concert:P). 

Another hearty thanks goes to everyone who organised the acts, were the acts, took photos, hosted, made food (oh the food), did the tech and everything else. You are all brilliant. Praise God for such a blessed evening! 

[Final Fundraising Update] 

In a moment of end of term delirium, I notice in an email that DUCK (The Durham University Charities Committee) were advertising their annual Bungee jump off a huge crane on Palace Green. Now, normally, I'd bypass anything this extreme (or indeed, anything that involved the words bungee and jump), but being in serious need of money for the trek itself, my eyes were drawn to the picture of the 170ft crane. It was all over in a flash. In about 5 minutes, I'd signed up and vowed that I'd do it. WA! 

However, I don’t want to throw myself off a massive crane without raising a good amount of money! I’d really like to raise at least £200 before doing it - so if you can help please do get in touch! The money I'm trying to raise for this will go towards my actual trek, so I will be wandering round with sponsorship forms, but if I'm not going to see you and you'd like to donate , just drop me an email (alexbrowne05@hotmail.co.uk) and we can work something out:) 

This.looks.terrifying. 

So if you've ever thought to yourself  'I'd really love to see Alex throw herself off a crane with only a thread of elastic to break her fall', head on down to Palace Green on a certain afternoon in May. (Date will follow).  And even if you've never thought that, I can promise it'll be a lovely break from revision...for you anyway. :P 

I'm not much of a dancer.

A while ago,  I went to see ‘Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra’ with a couple of friends. It was held in a launderette in Gilesgate (one of the benefits of the living in the depths of Durham!:P)  and was just brilliant. So I wrote a poem about it. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzOXy5XT0rU

Passe-moi la limonade

he sang,

as I sipped my steaming tea and 

listened. 

Thimbled fingers ran over an aging washboard. 

Checkered ties and yellow socks. 

Braces and a kettle full of daffodils. 

We stepped back into the twenties with the smell of 

cold cigarette smoke,

brought in from the 21st century air outside. 

On the dance floor dictated by washing machines

we twirled and spun and clapped our hands

(well, they did.)

I’m not much of a dancer,

I said to the old man beside me,

his own feet itching to jump up and stomp rhythmically with the rest. 

Passe moi la limonade
he sang, 

But I’m not much of a dancer. 
I said.