So... I've been pretty unproductive today.
Yesterday was awesme cause Lizzy came over to visit, from Chichester, and she is my second oldest friend. Our friendship was founded when we were 11, staying up late in our dorm room at a "gifted and talented" summer school at Rodean, blowing raspberries and making fart noises, and laughing our heads off all night - also featuring in a play about smugglers... I guess we've matured slightly, but not too much. I'd say we were on the gifted side of the "gifted and talented", gifted with insanity, that is.
Anyway, we spent the day in Brighton with Emma and ate exceedingly delicious fudge. Also, I bought a few guitar picks to replace the ones that got eaten by my dog at Christmas. I was looking for some funky shoelaces to jazz up some boring black trainers I've got but I didn't see any. This demonstrates my new low budget: last term, when I went into town I was buying guitars or clothes - this term I am buying guitar picks, and shoelaces...
Back to self-analysis. If I can't do it on my own blog, I can't do it anywhere. I think the reason I need friends like that is because I am something of an attention seeker. Not the show off kind, but I'm just the girl that talks all the time in seminars when everyone else is shy, I like praise and I'm one of those people who feels slightly hurt on receiving "constructive" criticism. I don't like being ignored.
I think that's why I've lost confidence recently. Back home, I was usually the centre of attention whenever I wanted to be. There are too many people here!
I'm also starting to think I'm just generally down at the moment. If I'm not upset about one thing, I'm upset about something else (although, with periods of normality and contentedness peppered inbetween). Now I've seen friends yesterday and had a good time, I should be happy. But now I'm moping about other stuff. The trouble with having these depressive episodes is that it messes with my mind, because now I don't know if things are genuinely bad or if they're just in my head. It makes me feel powerless. I feel like I can't talk about anything I'm getting upset about directly, because if IS just in my head, and it's not a real issue people will get fed up with me being insecure and think I'm all needy and over-sensitive. It's a circle of doubt and negativity and I'm stuck in my own head.
I even feel guilty about my long passages of self-reflection on here - but I guess I shouldn't this is my own blog, I'm allowed to talk about myself somewhere, right? Wht I really need is a pet to spew all my problems to! Preferably a hedgehog.
Thanks for the comments on my last post by the way, I found them really comforting and helpful. I guess I'm the kind of person that needs reassurance and a figurative shoulder to cry on sometimes.
Also, the kind of person that needs chocolate. I really, really, really, REALLY could do with a big fat bar of Galaxy or a Toblerone right now. Maybe some chocolate buttons and jaffa cakes too. But a) I can't afford those kind of luxuries and b) its 2am so the shop's closed even if I did magically find a couple of quid wedged down the back of my comfy chair/rattling around in my guitar/stuck to the ceiling. Ah, comfort food.
(Actually, talking of unrealistic desires - I do need a job at the moment, maybe I could become one of aristocratic Carolyn's fantasy house staff in exchange for Galaxy bars and Toblerone!)
I promise to make my next blog post lighthearted and happy,
Bekah
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Friday, 30 January 2009
It's a long and personal entry today...
I used to be happy with the person I am. Especially over the last year or so, I became more and more confident. When I was staying in Alaska, I met so many new people in all sorts of situations, I made so many friends, in so many situations.
There was one girl named Randi who worked in the visitor centre in Palmer. I stopped in there for a while one day while I had explored the entire town (Palmer and Wasilla being the biggest "cities" in the area, even then they only had populations of around three or four thousand people.) I was waiting for my aunt to finish work nearby, so I hung out looking at the tiny museum they had in the visitor centre, spending as much time as possible so I wouldn't have to go outside and wait in the cold.
Anyway, after she asked how I was and noticed my English accent, me and Randi got talking, for about an hour at least (it wasn't very busy in the visitor centre that day) and we swapped numbers. She was the same age as me, and she was starting Uni in the autumn too, she was going all the way to Boston to study music, she was already in an awesome jazz band. We were going to go to a local festival together but in the end she couldn't make it and my aunt and uncle had planned something else that weekend - a party and cookout up at their cabin with a few of their friends.
In fact, I wrote about that party on this same blog back in July 2008 when I was there:
"On Saturday, Fran and Jack threw a party up at their cabin – loads of people were invited but not many turned up; Fran was a bit slow in confirming the date and giving directions, and a lot of people were going off to some event out of town."
One woman my aunt knew bought her daughter, Claire, who was about the same age as me, so we had some fun and went out to canoe on their lake. She had to leave early though, to go to a rave in Anchorage - which she did invite me to but I knew my aunt wouldn't have let me. (Even though I was already 18, she was quite protective because I was not her daughter and she felt responsible for me.) I did see Claire a few other times, she was awesome and I need to get back in touch with her.
I was getting kind of bored when two guys who were about 19 showed up, expecting a massive party with loads of young people, but there were only a few of us and no-one else at the party even knew them (it turned out a woman my aunt invited couldn't make it but thought it would be a big party so sent her son and his friend anyway). It was my lucky day, cause being the only one there under 30, I was getting kind of bored. And because of both that, and the fact I was by default an interesting person - simply by being a cute English girl - these guys were practically kissing my feet and I got them both to roast me lots of marshmallows, make me lots of smores, and row me round the entire lake twice. One of them ended up calling me back a few days later and for one week I got a lot of free visits to funfairs, restaurants and cinemas out of that guy, as well as totally pissing my aunt off by going back to his place and not quite coming back home in time for her curfew.
Another day I went into Anchorage to go shopping and hang out with two girls I'd never met before, which came about because one of them was thinking of going to university in England and her mum knew my aunt, so they arranged a meeting for us. All of these people got my number (I had a temporary "cell phone" my aunt gave me for me to use out there, so I've lost contact with them all now) and I saw most of them again.
When I worked at the field school in Canada I was thrown into close living conditions with about 8 other students (they'd all graduated from different U.S. universities, all about 3 or 4 years older than me), at camp you have to get up at 6am, work, cook, eat, get muddy and play together until about 2am, with no breaks for solitude and you make friends very quickly. The whole experience was cold, muddy, and awesome fun. By the end of the week, none of us were sleeping cold or alone in our tents, everyone at camp seemed to pair off with someone of the opposite sex. It was often unclear whether the noise coming from outside your tent was a moose, or just another couple "keeping warm"...
(My aunt was extremely annoyed to find my little tent empty when she came to pick me up at the end of the week and things were tense for nearly our whole road trip, which turned out to be less fun than it could have been - because I also caught glandular fever along with everyone else at the camp. Which was a) because everyone was sleeping with eachother and b) because we all ate out of the same pot, never had enough water to wash our hands, and shared muddy utensils which never got washed up with warm water.)
It's ridiculous how many friends I made in two months, in a totally alien place where I knew no-one. I didn't look super cool, I wore scruffy clothes to keep warm most of the time, but over there people didn't judge you on your clothes, your taste in music, or anything else (apart from your political views, which you should definitely keep shut about in the States).
I came home from Alaska more confident and friendly than ever. I couldn't wait to meet new people, I wanted to smile and say hi to people I saw at shops and bus stops, I wanted to chat and make friends with everyone. I had great exam results and I couldn't wait to come to uni.
I've been here for about 4 months now, I've met hundreds of people and had so many new experiences. But I still haven't made any close friends. I didn't even realise this for a while. I was swept up in the tumultuous wave of socialising and events, surrounded by plenty of people to go to go out with to house parties and nights out. Now I don't want to do that, and I don't have enough money to, I just want someone to chill out with and chat to about anything and everything in my room. I am a crazy, weird and lively person, I always have been, and my friends were about the same, I could say and do any random thing I had an impulse to do, and we'd all laugh together.
I used to be happy with the person I am.
In a way, I still love me. I step outside of myself and look at myself as though I were someone else. I see an awesome person that is a lot of fun to be with. I see someone small but cute and playful with a weird sense of humour, the kind of person I just want to hug and have good times with. If I could meet myself, we'd get on great and we'd be best friends. The fact I think about that quite often just proves what a mental case I am.
The trouble is, I don't want to change. I like being myself. I don't want to put on an act. When I think of something interesting or fun, I want to say it, or do it. If I'm on a beach listening to music through my headphones, or if I hear a funky band playing in town, and I feel like getting up and dancing, I want to do it. Why should I have to care what other people think? I bet plenty of people feel like dancing in public sometimes, the difference between them and me is that they will stop themselves, and I won't.
It's such a short life, why should I refrain from doing things I want to do just because other people might think it's silly or weird. Why should I let others kill my personal fun and happiness just because they are scared to enjoy life themselves, for fear of what other people will think of them? Because of this outlook on life, I am now struggling with myself. I'm not having fun anymore, because people don't have fun with me. It's not fun being this person when no-one else seems to understand.
I've lost my self-esteem. I've lost my friendliness. I'm not the lively person I used to be. I'm an unwatered, neglected plant, starving for attention and encouragement. I'm the dying embers at the bottom of a fire whose warmth is no longer appreciated. Am I doing something wrong? At first I thought I might not be looking hard enough, but now feel like I might be damaging things further by thinking too deeply about frienship. Do I need to change who I am?
I feel like I'm being slightly selfish by writing this, because it's not true that I have no-one here. There is a very lovely person next door to me who I appreciate and care about very much. But I sometimes worry that because of the person I am, even they would be happier without me.
It's been a long post today and I don't expect anyone to read all this. But just by writing some of these things down instead of being caught in an endless loop of inner self-reflection, I feel calmer and my eyes are now dry.
There was one girl named Randi who worked in the visitor centre in Palmer. I stopped in there for a while one day while I had explored the entire town (Palmer and Wasilla being the biggest "cities" in the area, even then they only had populations of around three or four thousand people.) I was waiting for my aunt to finish work nearby, so I hung out looking at the tiny museum they had in the visitor centre, spending as much time as possible so I wouldn't have to go outside and wait in the cold.
Anyway, after she asked how I was and noticed my English accent, me and Randi got talking, for about an hour at least (it wasn't very busy in the visitor centre that day) and we swapped numbers. She was the same age as me, and she was starting Uni in the autumn too, she was going all the way to Boston to study music, she was already in an awesome jazz band. We were going to go to a local festival together but in the end she couldn't make it and my aunt and uncle had planned something else that weekend - a party and cookout up at their cabin with a few of their friends.
In fact, I wrote about that party on this same blog back in July 2008 when I was there:
"On Saturday, Fran and Jack threw a party up at their cabin – loads of people were invited but not many turned up; Fran was a bit slow in confirming the date and giving directions, and a lot of people were going off to some event out of town."
One woman my aunt knew bought her daughter, Claire, who was about the same age as me, so we had some fun and went out to canoe on their lake. She had to leave early though, to go to a rave in Anchorage - which she did invite me to but I knew my aunt wouldn't have let me. (Even though I was already 18, she was quite protective because I was not her daughter and she felt responsible for me.) I did see Claire a few other times, she was awesome and I need to get back in touch with her.
I was getting kind of bored when two guys who were about 19 showed up, expecting a massive party with loads of young people, but there were only a few of us and no-one else at the party even knew them (it turned out a woman my aunt invited couldn't make it but thought it would be a big party so sent her son and his friend anyway). It was my lucky day, cause being the only one there under 30, I was getting kind of bored. And because of both that, and the fact I was by default an interesting person - simply by being a cute English girl - these guys were practically kissing my feet and I got them both to roast me lots of marshmallows, make me lots of smores, and row me round the entire lake twice. One of them ended up calling me back a few days later and for one week I got a lot of free visits to funfairs, restaurants and cinemas out of that guy, as well as totally pissing my aunt off by going back to his place and not quite coming back home in time for her curfew.
Another day I went into Anchorage to go shopping and hang out with two girls I'd never met before, which came about because one of them was thinking of going to university in England and her mum knew my aunt, so they arranged a meeting for us. All of these people got my number (I had a temporary "cell phone" my aunt gave me for me to use out there, so I've lost contact with them all now) and I saw most of them again.
When I worked at the field school in Canada I was thrown into close living conditions with about 8 other students (they'd all graduated from different U.S. universities, all about 3 or 4 years older than me), at camp you have to get up at 6am, work, cook, eat, get muddy and play together until about 2am, with no breaks for solitude and you make friends very quickly. The whole experience was cold, muddy, and awesome fun. By the end of the week, none of us were sleeping cold or alone in our tents, everyone at camp seemed to pair off with someone of the opposite sex. It was often unclear whether the noise coming from outside your tent was a moose, or just another couple "keeping warm"...
(My aunt was extremely annoyed to find my little tent empty when she came to pick me up at the end of the week and things were tense for nearly our whole road trip, which turned out to be less fun than it could have been - because I also caught glandular fever along with everyone else at the camp. Which was a) because everyone was sleeping with eachother and b) because we all ate out of the same pot, never had enough water to wash our hands, and shared muddy utensils which never got washed up with warm water.)
It's ridiculous how many friends I made in two months, in a totally alien place where I knew no-one. I didn't look super cool, I wore scruffy clothes to keep warm most of the time, but over there people didn't judge you on your clothes, your taste in music, or anything else (apart from your political views, which you should definitely keep shut about in the States).
I came home from Alaska more confident and friendly than ever. I couldn't wait to meet new people, I wanted to smile and say hi to people I saw at shops and bus stops, I wanted to chat and make friends with everyone. I had great exam results and I couldn't wait to come to uni.
I've been here for about 4 months now, I've met hundreds of people and had so many new experiences. But I still haven't made any close friends. I didn't even realise this for a while. I was swept up in the tumultuous wave of socialising and events, surrounded by plenty of people to go to go out with to house parties and nights out. Now I don't want to do that, and I don't have enough money to, I just want someone to chill out with and chat to about anything and everything in my room. I am a crazy, weird and lively person, I always have been, and my friends were about the same, I could say and do any random thing I had an impulse to do, and we'd all laugh together.
I used to be happy with the person I am.
In a way, I still love me. I step outside of myself and look at myself as though I were someone else. I see an awesome person that is a lot of fun to be with. I see someone small but cute and playful with a weird sense of humour, the kind of person I just want to hug and have good times with. If I could meet myself, we'd get on great and we'd be best friends. The fact I think about that quite often just proves what a mental case I am.
The trouble is, I don't want to change. I like being myself. I don't want to put on an act. When I think of something interesting or fun, I want to say it, or do it. If I'm on a beach listening to music through my headphones, or if I hear a funky band playing in town, and I feel like getting up and dancing, I want to do it. Why should I have to care what other people think? I bet plenty of people feel like dancing in public sometimes, the difference between them and me is that they will stop themselves, and I won't.
It's such a short life, why should I refrain from doing things I want to do just because other people might think it's silly or weird. Why should I let others kill my personal fun and happiness just because they are scared to enjoy life themselves, for fear of what other people will think of them? Because of this outlook on life, I am now struggling with myself. I'm not having fun anymore, because people don't have fun with me. It's not fun being this person when no-one else seems to understand.
I've lost my self-esteem. I've lost my friendliness. I'm not the lively person I used to be. I'm an unwatered, neglected plant, starving for attention and encouragement. I'm the dying embers at the bottom of a fire whose warmth is no longer appreciated. Am I doing something wrong? At first I thought I might not be looking hard enough, but now feel like I might be damaging things further by thinking too deeply about frienship. Do I need to change who I am?
I feel like I'm being slightly selfish by writing this, because it's not true that I have no-one here. There is a very lovely person next door to me who I appreciate and care about very much. But I sometimes worry that because of the person I am, even they would be happier without me.
It's been a long post today and I don't expect anyone to read all this. But just by writing some of these things down instead of being caught in an endless loop of inner self-reflection, I feel calmer and my eyes are now dry.
Thursday, 22 January 2009
Students...
I have got to say that Sussex university is home to the most stereotypical studentyness you can imagine... This week is a perfect example... Gaza protesters...
Basically a group of protesters have set up an "occupation" - in other words, they've completely commandeered one of the two most major lecture theatres on campus. They're camping there permanently for a week, even through the night, I think. Even when lectures are on they hang around at the back of the hall - with a policy of not disrupting classes (there was a lecture starting when I took these pictures which is why there are fewer protesters) - although I have heard it has been a disruption.
My initial reaction was "cool, good luck with that", I read their "demands" and they seemd fair. They want Sussex to release an official statement agains the attacks, they want Sussex to boycott any Israeli products sold on campus stores, they want to give free scholarships to some students from Gaza University (which was hit during the bombing), etc. etc.
I had to have a nose in at the occupation in Arts A... Now I'm pretty warm on the hippy thermometer, but even I couldn't help but laugh. Think of an utterly stereotypical protesting hippy student, and you will be picturing the sight in the lecture theatre. Dreadlocked, baggy-clothed promoters of peace, acoustic guitars being tinkered with, the lot. Unfortunately I didnt have my camera handy until things had got a bit quieter.
Interestingly, a lot of students in my lectures were not sympathetic with them. They see the occupiers as self-righteous, annoying, and pointless. Lots of people were saying "what can the uni do?" and "I dont mind them protesting but its getting in the way of our classes".
I kind of disagreed with the skeptics at first, but now I'm thinking about it, I'm not sure if uni is the right place to carry this out. True, a couple of other UK universities did cave in to the protesters early on and meet their "demands", and I don't think that's bad. But is it really wrong for us to allow the university a little political neutrality? I'm not sure if it's appropriate for a university to take sides when general peace is the overriding aim.
The guardian have featured an article on universities' efforts here (mainly about King's College, but mentioning Sussex).
I'm not unsympathetic to their vision, as it were, I'm just undecided on whether I agree with all their demands, or with their take-over of the building.
P.S. I counted 10 "as it were"s in todays Philosophy lecture with our new, mad philosophy lecturer. He looks like a cross between a 17th century philosopher and an 80s doctor who. If Philosophy were to be embodied into a living and breathing being, he would be it. Anyway, it must be catching cause as you can see, I just unintentionally said "as it were" in my own blog. Ugh.
Basically a group of protesters have set up an "occupation" - in other words, they've completely commandeered one of the two most major lecture theatres on campus. They're camping there permanently for a week, even through the night, I think. Even when lectures are on they hang around at the back of the hall - with a policy of not disrupting classes (there was a lecture starting when I took these pictures which is why there are fewer protesters) - although I have heard it has been a disruption.
My initial reaction was "cool, good luck with that", I read their "demands" and they seemd fair. They want Sussex to release an official statement agains the attacks, they want Sussex to boycott any Israeli products sold on campus stores, they want to give free scholarships to some students from Gaza University (which was hit during the bombing), etc. etc.I had to have a nose in at the occupation in Arts A... Now I'm pretty warm on the hippy thermometer, but even I couldn't help but laugh. Think of an utterly stereotypical protesting hippy student, and you will be picturing the sight in the lecture theatre. Dreadlocked, baggy-clothed promoters of peace, acoustic guitars being tinkered with, the lot. Unfortunately I didnt have my camera handy until things had got a bit quieter.
Interestingly, a lot of students in my lectures were not sympathetic with them. They see the occupiers as self-righteous, annoying, and pointless. Lots of people were saying "what can the uni do?" and "I dont mind them protesting but its getting in the way of our classes".
I kind of disagreed with the skeptics at first, but now I'm thinking about it, I'm not sure if uni is the right place to carry this out. True, a couple of other UK universities did cave in to the protesters early on and meet their "demands", and I don't think that's bad. But is it really wrong for us to allow the university a little political neutrality? I'm not sure if it's appropriate for a university to take sides when general peace is the overriding aim.
The guardian have featured an article on universities' efforts here (mainly about King's College, but mentioning Sussex).
I'm not unsympathetic to their vision, as it were, I'm just undecided on whether I agree with all their demands, or with their take-over of the building.
P.S. I counted 10 "as it were"s in todays Philosophy lecture with our new, mad philosophy lecturer. He looks like a cross between a 17th century philosopher and an 80s doctor who. If Philosophy were to be embodied into a living and breathing being, he would be it. Anyway, it must be catching cause as you can see, I just unintentionally said "as it were" in my own blog. Ugh.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
Photo
I've been meaning to take my camera everywhere I go, because although I'm not a great photographer whenever I don't have it, I always see oddly funny or interesting things I'd love to have photographed.
I've also been meaning to post on my blog more.
So, here goes my new project - try take at least one photo every day and post it on here regularly. Obviously this is inspired by the guy who took a polaroid every day of his life for years and years and they were recently discovered and put online. Although, that was actually a sad story, because in the pictures you see him get slowly more ill and then he dies of cancer just after you see a picture of him getting married.
Anyways, unlike that guy, my project is probably doomed to fail. I don't say this for any specific reason, it's just probability - most of the projects and hobbies I start end up being abandoned in the end because I suffer from horrible lack of motivation and enthusiasm (although if you completely reversed the meaning of that sentence, you'd be reading my CV - it's all lies! Hmm, I hope no prospective employers read this.).
But oh well, at least its something to aim towards, something which will get me writing and taking more photos, which means I'll be doing SOMETHING creative with my time.
I have spent nearly all day in my room. So here is today's.
(note: I didn't say the pictures would all be interesting or exciting :P)
I've also been meaning to post on my blog more.
So, here goes my new project - try take at least one photo every day and post it on here regularly. Obviously this is inspired by the guy who took a polaroid every day of his life for years and years and they were recently discovered and put online. Although, that was actually a sad story, because in the pictures you see him get slowly more ill and then he dies of cancer just after you see a picture of him getting married.
Anyways, unlike that guy, my project is probably doomed to fail. I don't say this for any specific reason, it's just probability - most of the projects and hobbies I start end up being abandoned in the end because I suffer from horrible lack of motivation and enthusiasm (although if you completely reversed the meaning of that sentence, you'd be reading my CV - it's all lies! Hmm, I hope no prospective employers read this.).
But oh well, at least its something to aim towards, something which will get me writing and taking more photos, which means I'll be doing SOMETHING creative with my time.
I have spent nearly all day in my room. So here is today's.
(note: I didn't say the pictures would all be interesting or exciting :P)
Thursday, 15 January 2009
Bah
It's the new year and I was all positive. Yes, that's the past tense right there.
On the plus side I'm probably going to do much better academically this term, and I'm enjoying class more. I'm in the right field now and I should be okay in that sphere of life.
Everything seemed to be going great, until I realised I'm slowly sliding into the "meh" zone of mind again. And I know why. It's because I am social fuck-up.
Everyone else seems to have formed great big happy families, holding hands as they skip into their beautiful sunset of second-year accommodation, their only trouble being which glorius student townhouse they pick and its proximity to the pub and the university.
Yeah...
All I have is myself. Maybe I should just rent a shitty single bedsit and rot away alone. Can you taste the bitterness in the single tear running down my face? Good.
Okay, that did sound pretty emo. I'm feeling crap and I'll probably regret posting this blog later, but who cares, no-one reads it anyway... Okay, fair enough, that's taking the emo thing too far now. *Ahem*.
Wow, someone actually came over to give me a hug. Faith in humanity slightly restored. Going to bake cookies.
x
On the plus side I'm probably going to do much better academically this term, and I'm enjoying class more. I'm in the right field now and I should be okay in that sphere of life.
Everything seemed to be going great, until I realised I'm slowly sliding into the "meh" zone of mind again. And I know why. It's because I am social fuck-up.
Everyone else seems to have formed great big happy families, holding hands as they skip into their beautiful sunset of second-year accommodation, their only trouble being which glorius student townhouse they pick and its proximity to the pub and the university.
Yeah...
All I have is myself. Maybe I should just rent a shitty single bedsit and rot away alone. Can you taste the bitterness in the single tear running down my face? Good.
Okay, that did sound pretty emo. I'm feeling crap and I'll probably regret posting this blog later, but who cares, no-one reads it anyway... Okay, fair enough, that's taking the emo thing too far now. *Ahem*.
Wow, someone actually came over to give me a hug. Faith in humanity slightly restored. Going to bake cookies.
x
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Nearing the end
Well here we are... It's nearly the end of 2008. Now is the time I should probably reflect on the year.
I guess it hasn't been a totally sucky year. Wait, that is still pretty negative. It's been a pretty good year, in many (but not all) aspects. There, that's as positive as I get!
Well it has been pretty good. I managed to get to France, Spain, Alaska and Canada, which is awesome. And I doubt I'll be able to afford a single holiday in 2009, or even for a few years now, so it's probably good that I managed to get out of England a bit this year.
Top three awesome things that happened this year:
1) Finishing my A-levels and getting into Sussex (even if I'd have liked to get one more A...)
2) Two months in Alaska... cold but amazingly, stunningly beautiful. I miss the mountains :-(
3) Leaving home and starting uni! I know I chose the wrong course... but it has still been awesome and I also have the best next-door neighbour ever.
Not worthy of a list, non-awesome things that happened this year include my gran and aunt's car accident, being really poor all the time, and not getting out of a horrible relationship sooner.
But next year there's plenty to look forward to! (When you ignore the whole being-totally-poor thing)
1) Lost Season 5. Okay, so you make think I'm lame for having this as a priority. But I can't help it, I'm addicted, and it's so close now!
2) Starting a new course - yeah Philosophy is not gonna be easy, especially after missing a term, but I'm looking forward to studying something I'm actually interested in again.
3) Later on in the year, getting a flat in Brighton! Woo! (If I manage find someone who actually wants to share with me *sob*)
4) ....Hmm, I've run out. Maybe I'm not in such an optimistic mood today. Usually I have tonnes to look forward to.
Oh well, that just leaves me with my favourite list, which is New Year's Resolutions! They're fun because they make you feel like you've made a conscious effort to improve yourself, while later in the year you can look back and laugh at how naive you were! No really, I do actually enjoy making new years resolutions. Making being the key word...not the keeping.
So here it is, in no particular order apart from what comes into my head:
Bekah's amazing New Year's Resolutions for 2009!
1) Keep my room tidy - this one is the same every year. But this time I really mean it!
2) Study harder at uni - try not to get below 60% in assignments, and don't miss classes.
3) Don't spend money on crap (this should be easy since you now have NO money anyway)
4) Get a job and try and save for some kind of holiday in 2009
5) Try and be more slightly more friendly and outgoing instead of enigmatic and weird out of sheer laziness
6) Grow my hair (and possibly try and keep it one colour for a while)
7) Keep practicing guitar, , which comes under being more creative in general.
8) Don't stay up past midnight if I have lectures the next day
9) Don't stay in bed past 12pm
10) And at number 10, the bonus resolution for 2009 - suggested by Leigh - is to cuddle Leigh. (Well I had to have one easy one on here!)
2) Study harder at uni - try not to get below 60% in assignments, and don't miss classes.
3) Don't spend money on crap (this should be easy since you now have NO money anyway)
4) Get a job and try and save for some kind of holiday in 2009
5) Try and be more slightly more friendly and outgoing instead of enigmatic and weird out of sheer laziness
6) Grow my hair (and possibly try and keep it one colour for a while)
7) Keep practicing guitar, , which comes under being more creative in general.
8) Don't stay up past midnight if I have lectures the next day
9) Don't stay in bed past 12pm
10) And at number 10, the bonus resolution for 2009 - suggested by Leigh - is to cuddle Leigh. (Well I had to have one easy one on here!)
Mainly though, I thought I should at least match the amount of effort I put in at uni to the huge amount of money it's costing me...
And that's my resolutions 09. If I think of any more important ones I've forgotten, I'll add later.
Goodbye 2008. You were okay at first but you gradually got crap Like, what's with all the economical downturn shit? I mean, apart from the whole Obama becoming president thing, you haven't given the world much to look forward to in 2009 - the last year of the "noughties". But lets just see what happens, shall we? Who knows, we might even reverse global warming or halt world poverty. But I doubt it.
See you on the other side, everyone!
Friday, 19 December 2008
Home
It feels odd to call this place home now, when really university is more like my real home these days. I guess I do have stronger connections with the friends I have back here, as well as my family, but the lifestyle is very different to what I have become used to on campus.
It's initally pretty nice to be back. I missed my dogs a lot, it's cool having them around again, even if one of them is violently opposed to and frightened of my guitar (already lost one guitar pick to her ravenous, all-consuming jaws. Seriously, that dog will eat anything, she even tried to eat a razor blade the other week). And it's been cool hanging out with my stepbrother for a bit too. But things suddenly went weird when at approximately 10pm, everyone went to bed.
I mean, WTF? I'd completely forgotten how early parents go to bed. What the hell is that about? 10pm, in the holiday, and no-one to hang out with, nothing to do... I've got plans for the weekend but it was weird stepping back into reality and realising that its not normal to still be hanging out and thinking of making dinner at 1am.
Also, there is a whole fridge full of food. But wait, this is the weird thing. Instead of having a fridge full, yet with only a mouldy tomato and an airtight container of leftover baked beans actually belonging to me, the fridge is actually full of food that is technically mine :-) Yay! Having lived on almost exclusively toast for the past week, I nommed through the rest of a leftover tuna pasta bake I found in there, only to realise later it had probably been there a few days, and was probably meant for the dogs...
I've discovered my crappy, crappy guitar playing is enough to impress a nine year old boy. Although after trying to teach him the Smoke on the water riff for about an hour while watching the poor dude helplessly grapple left-handedly with a guitar twice his size I handed in my teaching cap. It was a fun way of totally freaking the dog out for a while though :-)
I'm missing Brighthelm and my boy-next-door already! And I'm bored, its too late at night to do anything, since any of my favourite activities inevitably involve making lots of noise (Yes, ALL of my favourite activities - heh).
It's initally pretty nice to be back. I missed my dogs a lot, it's cool having them around again, even if one of them is violently opposed to and frightened of my guitar (already lost one guitar pick to her ravenous, all-consuming jaws. Seriously, that dog will eat anything, she even tried to eat a razor blade the other week). And it's been cool hanging out with my stepbrother for a bit too. But things suddenly went weird when at approximately 10pm, everyone went to bed.
I mean, WTF? I'd completely forgotten how early parents go to bed. What the hell is that about? 10pm, in the holiday, and no-one to hang out with, nothing to do... I've got plans for the weekend but it was weird stepping back into reality and realising that its not normal to still be hanging out and thinking of making dinner at 1am.
Also, there is a whole fridge full of food. But wait, this is the weird thing. Instead of having a fridge full, yet with only a mouldy tomato and an airtight container of leftover baked beans actually belonging to me, the fridge is actually full of food that is technically mine :-) Yay! Having lived on almost exclusively toast for the past week, I nommed through the rest of a leftover tuna pasta bake I found in there, only to realise later it had probably been there a few days, and was probably meant for the dogs...
I've discovered my crappy, crappy guitar playing is enough to impress a nine year old boy. Although after trying to teach him the Smoke on the water riff for about an hour while watching the poor dude helplessly grapple left-handedly with a guitar twice his size I handed in my teaching cap. It was a fun way of totally freaking the dog out for a while though :-)
I'm missing Brighthelm and my boy-next-door already! And I'm bored, its too late at night to do anything, since any of my favourite activities inevitably involve making lots of noise (Yes, ALL of my favourite activities - heh).
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
A very important observation on life.
Okay, I know I was gonna follow up on the whole stupid idea thing, but it was a stupid idea, so forget it, because I have just made a weird observation which MUST be written down before I forget about this amazing development in culinary philosophy.
You know when you're about to finish a packet of crisps or a biscuit, and when you go to eat the last bit, you realise you already ate it? And you get that weird empty feeling because you were expecting more?
Well it happens nearly every single time I absent mindedly eat a jaffa cake. Weird. Perhaps it's because they're so deliciously light, or because they only contain one gram of fat (that is why they are recommended by sports nutritionists!), but every time I eat one, I start looking around for the other half of it. It's kind of like when you get a leg amputated and then you feel a phantom leg for years afterwards.
I feel like I have a load of phantom jaffa cake halves haunting me. What's with that? Am I the only one that gets this problem? Also, it's so easy to eat a whole pack in one go without realising!
My final observation is that while I have been spending hours and hours struggling over what to write in an essay before writing only a hundred or so words - I can somehow write 200 words about jaffa cakes in less than two minutes. Writers block can therefore be cured by jaffa cakes (but only if you want to write about snack food).
Maybe I should be a junk food critic!
You know when you're about to finish a packet of crisps or a biscuit, and when you go to eat the last bit, you realise you already ate it? And you get that weird empty feeling because you were expecting more?
Well it happens nearly every single time I absent mindedly eat a jaffa cake. Weird. Perhaps it's because they're so deliciously light, or because they only contain one gram of fat (that is why they are recommended by sports nutritionists!), but every time I eat one, I start looking around for the other half of it. It's kind of like when you get a leg amputated and then you feel a phantom leg for years afterwards.
I feel like I have a load of phantom jaffa cake halves haunting me. What's with that? Am I the only one that gets this problem? Also, it's so easy to eat a whole pack in one go without realising!
My final observation is that while I have been spending hours and hours struggling over what to write in an essay before writing only a hundred or so words - I can somehow write 200 words about jaffa cakes in less than two minutes. Writers block can therefore be cured by jaffa cakes (but only if you want to write about snack food).
Maybe I should be a junk food critic!
Saturday, 29 November 2008
I am the queen of stupid ideas
Hmm, I was staying up late tonight for various reasons, and then it started getting really late, and I decided something... Instead of going to bed, in two hours when the sun is about to come up, I'm going to get changed back out of my pyjamas again, into some warm clothes. I'm going to go and make myself a flask of tea, bring a bag with my mp3 player, camera and diary, and go up to watch the sun rise on the downs.
I don't have anyone to go with but that might be the beauty of it. I plan on continuing with my Daft Punk session and particularly I want to listen to Voyager.
Only a couple of hours more... Anyway, its Saturday tomorrow. Saturday is nothing or anything day, Sunday is work day.
I will update you on how this latest stupid idea goes later. Expect "for god's sake, why am I always having these stupid ideas", or something along those lines!
I don't have anyone to go with but that might be the beauty of it. I plan on continuing with my Daft Punk session and particularly I want to listen to Voyager.
Only a couple of hours more... Anyway, its Saturday tomorrow. Saturday is nothing or anything day, Sunday is work day.
I will update you on how this latest stupid idea goes later. Expect "for god's sake, why am I always having these stupid ideas", or something along those lines!
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Luvina
Here's something I did for my Spanish seminar. After reading a short story by magical realist Juan Rulfo, we had to do a drawing, collage, poem, song - whatever we wanted, to represent his mystical land, Luvina. Luvina is supposed to be a sad, dreary, barren place where there is always a cold wind blowing. This was the best I could come up with in a short space of time:
I know, its pretty crappy. It does look a bit better in real life where you don't noticed the rumpled paper so much, but it's still pretty crappy. Oh well. The writing is a quote from the story. It roughly translates as:
"You asked me how long I spent in Luvina, true...?"
"...The truth is, I don't know"
I know, its pretty crappy. It does look a bit better in real life where you don't noticed the rumpled paper so much, but it's still pretty crappy. Oh well. The writing is a quote from the story. It roughly translates as:
"You asked me how long I spent in Luvina, true...?"
"...The truth is, I don't know"
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