Silly Spectroscopy

Today, I have had my exam results back.

I failed a module. I say this does not surprise me, but I can't pretend I'm not slighted by it - I've literally never failed anything in my life before, so perhaps this will help in getting my head through the door on those days in which I get too big for my boots.

While I am somewhat disappointed, I suppose that's what I should expect when my answers contained such gems as:

1. Describe the spectrum of hydrogen...[insert blahblahblah] [8]

The spectrum of hydrogen is very... .... ... pretty.

2. Draw the molecular orbital of [insert species] including the [insert list of specifications] and the lone [electron] pairs. [7]

I half attempted the question, knowing I hadn't learnt this part (or indeed any part - ref. a fornight or so ago) effectively, and ended up doodling in the corner of the exam paper:

I was hoping for some marks for creative insight or humour in the face of adversity? I guess they don't play that way...

There is another test tomorrow, and instead of preparing, I'm replicating pointless artwork that was of no use or purpose in the first place. Perhaps not the best way to step up my grade. But to be honest, I'm not all that bothered. After all, what is it worth?

On the jukebox: Queen ~ Bohemian Rhapsody

Beautiful Girls

Today, I have been the most attractive girl in a room full of students.

That doesn't happen all that often. It's another aspect of chemistry I like. When I say the most attractive girl in the room, I really mean the only one. Not the only attractive girl, but the only girl. Full stop.

The easiest way to win is to get rid of the competition. ;oP

Usually it's about 60:40 boys to girls ratio, I reckon. If you discount the foreigners that stick to their own language and culture, the biochemists and couple of randoms who are only in the odd module, it's probably even makes the females more of a minority . Most of the lab demonstrators are male. This is advantageous in some respects, not being self-obsessed, or anything ('sif!) but I kinda get the feeling they do gravitate towards the girls more. Come on, it's probably the only opportunity they get where girls will willingly approach them and listen intently to their every word. Hah, perhaps I'm being unfairly stereotypical - some of the guys are good-looking as well as being genuinely sweet, so I doubt they have it too rough.

But like was so readily remarked on by a fellow (male) peer last year (to the PhD students):

"You clearly only do this job to get to flirt with the freshers"
"Well I can't say that's not a bonus"

Heh, just unpop your labcoab, whip up a smile, and they're putty in your hands... ;o)

Of course, the fact that most of the department is male and incapable of empathy, it means there's a somewhat lack of genuine higher authority support in the pastoral care side. But that story's for another day...

On the jukebox: Roy Orbison ~ Pretty Woman

Deep Sea

Today, I have been sad.

Pessimistic, tearful, disillusioned, down, neurotic, upset, annoyed, unconfident, frustrated, frayed, stubborn, difficult, restless, selfish, angry, desperate, hopeless, enraged, knowledgable, loyal, insecure, helpless, competitive, awkward, tired, confused, defensive, dependent, confrontational, patient, useless, quiet, silly, unproductive, hopeful, struggling, overwhelmed, bitter, chatty, unsettled, misunderstood, unstable, upbeat, positive, helpful, useful, conflicting, disappointed, worried, stupid, troubled, concerned, jaded, horrible, needy, happy, awful, stressed, hurt, studious, compromising, argumentative, understanding, assertive, submissive, incapable, lost.

But mainly sad.

On the jukebox: McFly ~ I'll Be Ok

Further Education

Today, I have felt dissatisfied.

Reasons for sticking at university:

1. I don't know what I'd do with myself otherwise.
2. I've spent too much time, money and effort on it already.
3. I have the incessant, unnecessary need to prove that I'm clever.
4. I wouldn't make many friends anywhere else.

Reasons for wanting to give up:

1. It makes me lose sight of what I'm living for.*
2. I'm working full days, unpaid, unfufilled. And the rest.
3. It makes me more unsure of my intelligence with every assignment.
4. I'm barely even friends with most of my housemates and feel so alone much of the time.

Everyone who genuinely cares about me is a million miles away. Suddenly, hott PhD demonstrators aren't a good enough reason anymore.
*I guess if I stick around I'll prolly get shot anyways

On the jukebox: Coldplay ~ Fix You

Bear Hug

Wrap
your warm arms
around me,
Hold
my tired head
next to you.

Keep
us close
tight together,
Hug
me now
don’t let go.

On the jukebox: Starrfadu ~ Let It Out

Wandering Mind

Today, I have gazed out of the window.

I see that it's not raining. For the first day this year? Quite possibly.

I see the sun is setting. Shining through the picturesque tower block flats. Oh, the beauty of the industrial backdrop. Quite calming.

I see into the house opposite. The kitchen. I find them making food, talking on the phone, talking to each other. They see me watching. Quite embarassing.

I see the walks of shame. Sunday morning, Sparkly clothes and high-heeled shoes. Quite amusing.

I see my thoughts. Manifested in the clouds in the sky; the birds in the trees; the cat on the fence; the people passing by. I see the bigger picture. Quite satisfying.

I see that I have friends. Friends who will walk me home in the early hours so I don't get mugged or raped or shot. Friends who are like me; friends who like me. Friends who are genuinely happy to see me; to know me. Quite flattering.

I see that it doesn't matter much about the rest. I see that I am here, and I am alive. Who I am is my choice; what I want to be I have plenty of time to find.

I don't need to see much more than that.

On the jukebox: Snow Patrol ~ Chasing Cars

Shocking Tales

Today, I have heard the same old stories.

Saturday Night Activities breed Sunday Morning Accounts.

I'm a bit sick of it, to be honest.

"Oh wowoz, you pulled an old ugly bald bloke? OMGZ, well done!?11>!"

"Wassat? You got lost in the centre of town and complete random man walked you home? And you took your clothes off in front of him and invited him to stay the night? Yah, that's perfectly regularly acceptable and has no hints of anything less than innocent, yah, yah, naturlich..."

"Hark, what's that I hear? The sound of relentless vomiting? Oh, what a melody to behold upon this day of rest!"

Meanwhile, I had fun at a nice people party with nice people conversation and people stupid dancing to old style music. The insecurity brigade can continue with their farcical attempt at social interaction, I arnt reet bovverd. I'll do it my way.

La la la la la, life goes on...

On the jukebox: The Beatles ~ Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Contagious Disease

Today, I have herpes.

Perhaps I should stop spending time with random people on a Saturday night?

Of course, by herpes, I am referring to herpes simplex type 1 virus - the kind that causes cold sores and is seperate from the other type of herpes, so in case you were concerned, in admitting this ailment, I have not just declared the state of my sexual health (or indeed, sexual activity) to the internet.

As I understand it, herpes is for life. Remaining dormant in the body until it resurfaces when the immune system gets a little weary with emotional upset, or psychological stress; or fatigue and tiredness. I've had all of that in the past week, so I suppose it's no great surprise that my little fiend has recurred once again.

Most unattrative and très annoyant. Also, I haven't got antiviral cream, so this bothersome bugger could be here to stay for a while. Darn.

On the jukebox: Nickleback ~ Rockstar

Face Paint

Today, I have worn eyeliner.

Since like, always. That's it, though - it's pretty much my staple face base. I often wear mascara, sometimes lip gloss, too. What I don't understand is girls 3 inches of thick bronze foundation, 3 mm thick eyelashes and full on blusher to finish. It's just not attractive. Especially in the harsh daylight, it honestly makes me cringe to see how obvious the slick of orange liquid painted on their face is.

I always saw make-up as a tool to enhance, not as a cover-up. Sure, sometimes people get spots or bad skin days, and it's required as a confidence-builder, even though chances are no-one will notice as much as you do and what's more, no-one will care. However, much of the time these girls don't need it, they just like to wear it.

Seriously, what is the reasoning behind piling so much on? To feel as if you are attractive to the opposite species? To hide behind? Comparison to other girls? To conceal an insecure facade? Because you feel like you should? Because you always have? Someone explain, please?

Perhaps it's more acceptable to see it on a night out, but a lecture at 10am in the morning when you know you're only going to see the world for an hour or so before you go back into bed? How do you have the time? Aren't you here to learn, anyway?

I rarely, if ever, see a girl of my age for whom I think - "she could do with a little more make-up" Geez, among my friends with an average age of twenty, our skin is as young as we can be to appreciate younger looking skin. Most girls look prettier with some subtley placed make-up. But too much is too much.

Quel est le point?

On the jukebox: Hiliary Duff ~ Wake Up

Let Down

Today, I have had a bad feeling.

"We need to talk :-("

That's never gonna be a good thing, is it? The simple combination of colon, hyphen and bracket translates the tone just as well as any voice could. I've got a sinking feeling in my stomach, I don't know what it's about, and it may not be what I think it is. Even if it is, it might not be the worst thing in the world. But it's getting to a point where if it is what I think it is, I wish I had known earlier, because it seemed that last week everything was mostly ok and forward planning and now it's like - what are you playing at?

It's really put a downer on my day.

On the jukebox: Snow Patrol ~ The Finish Line

Perfect Pretence

Today, I have had a skewed perspective.

Putting things into perspective is something I do not do well, concentrating on the little bug-bears is annoying, indeed, but so often, I just can't help myself. To alter the way of thinking, to perceive the true place of minor worries is a skill I have yet to master.

Perceptions can be peculiar. How such little parts of the big picture can be focussed on so intently when in reality, in the grand scheme of things, they are so ultimately insignificant. That the world will keep turning, and life has a funny, funny way of helping you out.

Of course, it's not so easy to just let go, I don't think so. A control freak; a constant worrier; a perfectionist: that's me. It is important that I be thoroughly competent in everything I do. I hate being less than best, setting my sights and standards far too high, because I believe, if I set my mind to it, I could achieve those goals, because I can't aim for "good enough". Over-analysing and losing sleep over fretting about so many things that I could easily change or that will undoubtedly sort themselves out somewhere along the way. There's no need to worry so much.

All it takes to break away is a reshuffle of thoughts, of mind-set, of perspective, to lead the path to a more fufilling life, a content means of being.

Illusion is the first of all pleasures.

On the jukebox: Nick Drake ~ Fly

Chemistry Reaction

Today, I have figured out why I carry on at it...
...but not why I keep going on about it ;o)
Reasons I do chemistry:

• It's logical and full of patterns.
  
• There's usually an absolute correct answer.
• To prove I'm clever.
  
• For the astounded response upon first confession of degree course.
  
• If you can do chemistry, you can do almost anything.
  

Reasons I do chemistry at this uni:

• The guy who promoted it on open day is one of the nicest, most helpful academics I've come across. He's lovely.
• Most of the lecturers genuinely do want us to do well; they're not there to catch us out.
  
• My fellow geeky cliquey chemistry chums, growing in number by the day, and the way we bond (chemical bond, geddit? hawhehaw...) with each other over the difficulty of our proper degree.
  
• One of the PhD students at my initial interview was really hott.
  

I've finally completed my difluorodiazene coursework. I'm going to do good in it. Awesome.

On the jukebox: Renee Castle ~ Everything's Alright

Sex Games

Today, I have thought about the strange movements in environments involving student species.

Here, I shall use as an example, a particular tribe of female students species and the so called alcoholis drunkance routine. The dance is a mating ritual, intended to entice the opposite sex. What these strange creatures seem to fail to realise is that the ability attract the male species in this setting not due to physical or mental prowess or even the way they dress. It is because they are intoxicated with a certain drug & young & free and therefore prime targets for the male's basic desires. That is not all they are worth, but in this uniunique situation, this is all that matters. Each member of the tribe has their own signature trait, sometimes they will borrow aspects of others' routines, but mostly they stick to their own winning habit:

The Grinner
Sways to her own time, with a banal grin on her pretty phizog as her main move. Perhaps she believes that the inane smile makes her look more attractive. The reality is it serves to show how drunk she is.

The Pouter
Steps in rhythm to the music, with pursed lips in a way that suggests she is ready to kiss anyone who falls into her. Indeed, this is how she works her magic.

The Fiddler
Bobs side to side, adjusting her skirt or top or boobs whilst running hands through hair, or twirling it or flicking it over the shoulder, every, oh, two seconds or so.

The Aguilera
Moves like she's about to orgasm on the dancefloor.

These are the main types that have been observed in the immediate vincinity. Often, these mating rituals are successful because of the primal mating instinct. As the male of the species are at their sexual peak, many will go for a female where the minimum requirement is that she remains conscious. After all, these are not lobsters or penguins. These partners are for the night, not for life, and who needs more than a simple satisfication for that?

On the jukebox: Christina Aguilera ~ Dirrty

Forming Frowns

Today, I have been feeling fed-up.

Frustrated. Fed-up of workin' 9 'til 5. Fed-up of paying thousands of pounds for the priviledge. Fed-up of getting so worked up by work, when it's so essentially worthless. Fed-up of never finishing. Fed-up of never being able to relax guiltlessly. Fed-up of setting standards too high. Fed-up of feeling unfufilled.

I've had enough, enough.

One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important.
-Bertrand Russell

On the jukebox: Phil Collins ~ No Way Out

Heath Ledger

Today, I have found out that Heath Ledger is dead.

It shocked and upset me this morning, hearing on the radio, it seemed unreal. This evening, I was on the the phone to someone who said she felt saddened for the whole day, and it brought on the tears. It seems a bit weird, somehow, mourning the loss of someone you don't really know, but I suppose it's also to do with the feelings triggered that are associated to it all - first connecting with friends over 10 things I hate about you (possibly my favourite film of all time?); losing people you love (where almost every death acts as a reminder); suicide & depression (what's the point in living, again?); memories of particular people with gorgeous accents (I want sexy back...) all wrapped up in a young movie star's drug overdose. I fear that his films (of which I have three staring at me at this moment) will be forever tainted, or will they become so readily disconnected from his eventual end? That perhaps someday in the far future it'll jump into my mind suddenly and I'll think - hey, remember the day that Heath guy died?

It's a sign of the times that within 24 hours of the event, a facebook group dedicated to his memory already has over 9,300 members with over 1,000 posts.


:,o(
On the jukebox: Jeff Buckley ~ Hallelujah

Sweet Dreams

Today, I have nothing to look forward to.

Except sleep. Sleep is good.

O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours, shine comforts from the east,
That I may back to Home by daylight,
From these that my poor company detest;
And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me a while from mine own company.

You know it's getting bad when a science student starts quoting Shakespeare...

On the jukebox: Mika ~ Relax, Take It Easy

Oxygen Bomb

Today, I have studied burnt sugar.

An oxygen bomb isn't as exciting as it suggests, as is the case with most aspects of my course. I learn about how northern lights, fireworks and illegal drugs are created. I discover how to solve a murder mystery and methods to resolve the global energy crisis. I make paracetamol, plastic, perfume and play with fire. I could probably choose to present chemistry as a fascinating subject. Believe me, it's more tedious than it sounds, which is hard to achieve considering how boring it is to talk about. I should probably stop chatting chemistry constantly, I'm sure it's making you all feel terribly inferior - coz I is well cleva, innit, lol!!1?>! ;oP

On the jukebox: The Hollies ~ The Air That I Breathe

Dirty Stop-out

Today, I have been nightclubbing.

Technically last night, well it carried across to early this morning, so technically, it was today, but whatever. It amuses me the way my parents refer to the activity as “nightclubbing” rather than the effortlessly hip and cool terminology of the young folks, dropping the superfluous prefix to talk of ‘clubbing’

I don’t really like clubbing.

It’s alright for a bit, have a few laughs, have a few drinks. I go to keep the social wheel whirling, does the soul good to get out once in a while and all that. It’s a way to meet new people, and hey, might as well get my kicks while I’m still young enough to get them. Until I wind up old crazy cat lady alone with the only chance encounters I make are through bridge club or bingo nights. It seems, for my generation, the only way to approach new people is to be so drunk that you don’t need to talk sense. Or talk at all in many cases. Traditional introductions and opening conversations are sooo last millennia. Don’t you know the process? Get trashed, get grabbed, get groped. After all, you may never see them again – I’m not certain whether that’s used as justification or commiseration, or both:

“I may never see him again, I might as well get all I can from it while he’s here”
“I may never see him again, it doesn’t matter that I act like a complete slut”

I suppose it depends on the company one keeps. I’m an old bore, I’m sure, but somehow, I don't need to get so drunk I can't stand straight in order to enjoy myself. I'm insecure and immature, probably, but somehow I don’t need to nab a guy to have a great night. I’m unnecessarily uptight, I’ll bet, but somehow, I don’t need to cheat on my boyfriend to prove that I can still pull. Call me a loser, that doesn’t bother me. I know where I stand, and I’m alright with that.

On the jukebox: Bettie Serveert ~ A Lover I Don't Have To Love

Pantomime Time!

Today, I have been to a pantomime.

In keeping with my age and the time of year, I felt it was appropriate. I haven't been to a panto since...well, since my friend's 18th birthday, ha. I enjoyed the one this afternoon, of course, there was the token six-year-old among our party to justify our presence at what is ultimately a children's entertainment show. The clichés, the cheesy jokes, the predictable punch lines, all included as standard. I smiled at the irony of the particular story - Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up, who wants to stay young and have fun forever and ever in Neverland.

Naturally, one wouldn't expect RSC level acting, but for what it was worth, it was worth it. I absolutely adore trips to musically-enhanced theatre productions, all the dancing and sing-a-long songs, it's such a fantastic atmosphere. I've often thought I'd like to be part of a panto or musical, it looks like fun. The fact that I can't dance or sing is a slight hitch in my aspirations, but it's also fabulous to watch and be able to appreciate.

It's great, I think, that we can still appreciate pantomimes in this country, truly British as they are. In a world of commercialised entertainment; computer games and electronic toys, it's something that takes away from all of that into a magical world of wonder created by a few costumes, actors and a bit of imagination...

On the jukebox: R Kelly ~ I Believe I Can Fly

Cluttering Crash

Today, I have been clumsy.

I was kneeling on the bed to get a proper glimpse of myself in my non-full-length mirror. I slipped off the bed and hit my head on the radiator whilst doing so. A wild grab of the shelf resulted in dislodging a mug full of many pencils... and pencil shavings. After nursing my carpet-burned knees for a minute or two, I started to pick up the pencil sharpenings, stood up to take them to the bin and somehow managed to lauch my molecular model kit off the desk. So now, I have hundreds of little atoms and bonds scattered around my room. As if that wasn't awkward enough, a trip to hook the mirror back on the wall involved a step on still-hot straighteners and a trapped finger.

Perhaps this is a subtle lesson to teach me to be less vain...

On the jukebox: Frou Frou ~ Maddening Shroud

Mathematical Mix-up

Today, I have figured out where I went wrong.

Not in life, no, ha that would take far longer than a day, or else is immediately apparent - I'm not sure exactly which one. No, no, the reason I wasn't getting an integer was because I was dividing by six as shown in the example, when it should have been division by four for my particular species. Oh, I know, it seems so simple when I put it like that, but believe me, that took me the best part of the day to figure out...

It's such a relief when it clicks into place.

On the jukebox: Bright Eyes ~ I Believe In Symmetry

Thrifty Shopper

Today, I have given to charity.

Five whole pounds. Well, £4.97, to be exact. Though, I suppose I’m not as generous as the act may initially appear. I paid a fiver to charity, but I did get something else in return. Charity shops can hold such bargainous gems. Nowadays, I’ll often go sifting through the music and literature, see if I spot anything of interest. It’s a past-time I’d definitely advise if you’re into 90s pop music and movie soundtracks, or classic crime novels and well renowned prize-nominated books. They’re the stuff I usually see, but of course, the stock is unpredictable and ever-changing, you’re bound to discover something you never realised you were looking for, for a fraction of the price you’d pay in regular store. Today, thanks to me, a dog might get a home, children will be cared for and the aged will be helped. In addition to that, I have lots of new reading fodder and listening material – it’s a win-win situation. Alright, so perhaps a fiver won’t make much perceptible difference, but to coin a supermarket motto – every little helps.

On the jukebox: Pulp ~ Help The Aged

Dinitrogen Diflouride

Today, I have made trans-N₂F₂

The short tube is a double bond with a nitrogen atom each end. The long tubes are single bonds each attached to a flourine atom. There is also a lone pair of electrons at each nitrogen atom. Twenty-five percent of my module is based on this species. I know next to nothing about it other than what it looks like. Instead, I have spent my time playing with a molecular model kit and photo-altering software. What a way to play the day away.

On the jukebox: Lostprophets ~ Rooftops

Periodic Pains

Today, I have been told to watch CSI & ER for homework.

That, and learn and reproduce the concepts of Group Theory and apply to specific molecule for the coursework. As well as revise the principle reactions of Organometallics for the upcoming assessed test. Along with continual revisiting of ideas from last semester in order to be able to keep up with the new more complicated stuff. My exams may be over, but the work hardly stops there, does it?

Having just entered my times for this week in my diary, I see I have 22 contact hours at uni next week. Of course, that's including 12 hours of organic laboratory work. In case you're unfamiliar with my woes, that combines my two least favourite parts of the subject in 4 sticky sessions, every week. I am so not looking forward to those.

In addition to this all, at some point in the next couple of weeks or so will be a meeting with my Tutor to discuss my abysmal attempt at the recent examinations.

Sometimes, sometimes, I wish I were reading Psychology. Sure, there's essays to write and it's not as well respected, but come on - 6 weeks' vacation from university due to the absence of exams in January, come back for a week and then going away abroad for a week's holiday again?! I feel lucky just to have gotten a week's respite; it makes me sick to see these true slackers.

Why am I doing a chemistry degree?! /moan

On the jukebox: Semisonic ~ Chemistry

Sticky Stars

Today, I have made a sticker chart.

Well, in reality what that involves is buying a half-price diary (which is still half more than I should have paid for it, given that I don't use a diary generally, so what on earth made me think I need to buy one?) and some sheets of 99p stickers with stars and smiles and butterflies on. Putting them together gives me my sticker reward chart. My psychiatrist said it would help with development of a peaceful and positive inner being.

My psychiatrist likes to treat me like a seven-year-old. And since my psychiatrist is actually an alias for myself so I don't sound so childish (and instead sound schizophrenic and in need of a psychiatrist...), I think I'm okay with being treated that way. After all, where's the fun in being grown-up?

So, I get stickers when I do good-girl or studious-student or happy-happening things. Hopefully, the total thrill of seeing a colourful cheery sticker on my page will be enough to encourage me to have a brighter day! I'm kind of strange.

On the jukebox: Smash Mouth ~ All Star

Carrot Top

Today, I have contemplated carrots concerns.

Whilst I was standing there pondering whether to get chantenay or green-topped or organic or bagged, I was approached by someone else also considering buying carrots:

"Do you know how much these are, love?"
"69p" says I, pointing to the price label.
"Oh, thank you dear, I'm partially sighted, you see"

It was an elderly lady. We then proceeded to discuss the cons of carrots in a big bag, 'cause well, they go off, don't they, wouldn't use them all in time, perhaps better to buy the individual ones, then you can pick the ones you like the look of, etc etc...

The encounter lasted all of a minute or so, but that exchange stayed with me for far longer. She was obviously shopping for herself, alone. I was shopping for myself, alone. She has most of her life behind her, all seen and done and been. Perhaps she will go home to an empty house, perhaps she will have a carer or a visitor every now and again. I have most of my life ahead of me, all still fresh and ready to go. Though I know, I too, go back to home to an empty house. I, too, have to consider the implication of buying a whole bag of carrots when I know I probably won't be able to use them all before the best before.

What it comes down to, is that while I am young and she is old, we had one very obvious common factor. We are both alone. I am alone.

I decided not to buy any carrots.

On the jukebox: Amy MacDonald ~ Mr Rock & Roll

Positively Grinning

Today, I have watched Blue Peter.

The world's longest-running children's television program will celebrate its 50th birthday this year. Today was the first time I've actually sat through an episode in years. The first thing that struck me was how young some of the presenters seem, suddenly these grown-up adult presenters aren't that old at all. Especially Andy Ankinwolere, the newest presenter, he is not that far off my own age. Well, at least there's good old Konnie Huq, she was 'the new one' all those many years ago, and now, after more than ten years in the game, she's the longest-running female Blue Peter presenter! The second aspect I noticed was how they're all far too happy for my comfortable appreciation, the way everything was so brilliant and amazing and wonderful got on my nerves a little. (Though I guess swimming with dolphins is kinda wow...)

What say? People being positive on a children's show? Damn those optimists, damn them. Go watch the News and depress your overcheery spirits. Having said that, I was going to watch Newsround afterwards, but there's only a limited amount of headline worthy good news in the world, and to be honest, I didn't feel I needed to tune in to hear yet another "and a baby panda was born in this zoo last week..."

It's possible that have too much time on my hands and not enough access to digital television or other examless friends. I've been shopping two times in as many days. I've bought far too much stuff for far above the amount I should really be spending. But at least it makes me happy...
Perhaps I should actually start my coursework at some point.

On the jukebox: REM ~ Shiny Happy People

Dance Dance

Today, I have played music really LOUDLY.

There are no more exams. There is no-one in the house. I have a few fantastic friends. It is better than having lots of mediocre aquaintances.

I don't know what I want to do. I don't know where I'm going. But that's okay. Because I'm free to do anything I can do.

And I can do anything.

On the jukebox: Cyndi Lauper ~ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Sober Student

Today, I have lost faith in myself.

The exam was absolutely awful. The socialising afterwards was great, though.

I didn't plan on drinking. Last time I drank to celebrate a finish, I drank way too much. It was one of the physically worst feelings I'd ever experienced, with emotional embarassment to boot. To be honest, I still feel slightly sick when I think of drink. It's not as if I vowed never to touch alcohol again, but it's definitely altered my attitude towards the ole demon beverage.

It's interesting point of view, seeing through sober eyes. Watching how the behaviour of people change. Noting how the conversation gets gradually louder, people talking over each other, admittances that you know wouldn't be uttered had there not been the beer in the bloodstream, observing how obvious it is that there's a a bunch of drunk twenteenagers in the corner who are totally oblivious to the attention they are attracting on an otherwise quiet afternoon.

Well, I suppose I'm not so much of an old bore/teetotal saint/sanity-conscious kind of gal as while initially keeping to the J₂Os, I was eventually goaded into getting a drink or two (or having them bought for me...) and while I didn't even teeter past tipsy, it was fun while it lasted.

It possibly wasn't the best idea to go to the library for a bit afterwards. Somehow, a gaggle of giggling girls stand out a lot more in a place of silent study. And of course, we couldn't forget, as we aimed to point out to everyone else we met, that wait a miniute - have we finished out exams?! Yes, yes, I think we have, and oh what a shame, do you still have to revise...? Oh it's a bit cruel, but so very amusing...

On the jukebox: The Go-Go's ~ Head Over Heels

Night Owl

Today, I have stayed up past my bedtime.

A flashback of when I were much younger, and midnight seemed such a mysterious & forbidden time. And getting older, when staying up until the early hours became the place of sleepovers and secrets. Now, it seems, most of the time, staying up late is all about studying and smooching. Not at the same time, obviously.

I wish mine were not the former reason. Or the latter, to be quite honest. At this moment in time, I'd rather just be getting some shut-eye.

On the jukebox: Eels ~ I Need Some Sleep

Slacker Student

Today, I have been so very unproductive.

Tonight, I have...

...made dinner
...eaten dinner
...watched TV
...washed up
...surfed the web
...read a book
...coloured in
...straightened hair
...chatted to housemates

Tonight, I have not...
...revised. At all.

Tomorrow, I have...
...the last exam. Oh no.

I am not going to do well and it's all my own fault.

On the jukebox: Spice Girls ~ Who Do You Think You Are

Tears Time

Today, I have become demotivated.

I kind of want to give up. I kind of want to go home. I kind of want tomorrow to come. I kind of need more time. I kind of need a hug. I kind of want to sleep.

I kind of want this to all go away.

On the jukebox: Ingram Hill ~ Will I Ever Make It Home

Net Nerd

Today, I have figured out why I started a new blog.

Everyone who I have never met in this peculiar little land can be traced back to my orginal blog face. Some indirectly so - I followed a link to a link to a link and somehow end up absorbed in some of the most fascinating pieces of writing, or sharing laughs and memories with people who have never even seen me smile.

What a freak. You have friends that you met on the internet!? Gasp, shock, horror, that’s just not normal. No offence, but you’re a bit wrong in the head. Go and get laid, dear, get out a bit more, spend time with that nice young lad, speak to some of your real friends.

Perceptions can be misleading. Okay, so there’s a lot to be said for body language, tone of voice, actual conversation or whatever. But still, I think I can judge the character of someone I’ve known for two years better than some people I've known for two months..

Over two and a half years ago, I came into existence. Today, instead of studying and stressing for an oh-so-important examination that will mean nothing to me in two years time, I am stalking someone in particular. The me of two years ago. It's embarassing, to say the least. But it's also it's surprisingly heart-warming. Strangely so. The advice, opinions and seemingingly insignificant remarks that people have made over the time I've been around are interesting to look back on, and some specific comments made by certain people have meant more to me than they will ever know.

It's weird to think of some people who, for both of you, the chance meeting was a fleeting blog hop that perhaps turned into a blossoming banter between two people - one that could flourish or finish just as easily and abruptly as it came about. It's weird, it's different, but sometimes, it works. I lost a sense of that a bit when I made my space private and so, though I know it won't really make much difference, as it will be the same wonderful people who visit here as did there, there's still the option to open more doors, you know?

On the jukebox: Petula Clark - Downtown

Fashion Follower

Today I have worn Fur Cuffed Flat Boots.

Despite their rahrahrah association; despite the fact that the heels become misshapen within like, a week; despite the fact that they are a wholly unpractical colour and style for damp and dirty days; despite the fact that they look like puppet feet... yes, yes, despite all these serious misgivings - I own a pair of these ugg-type boots, against my better judgement. To be fair, they were a Christmas present, it’d be rude not to make use of them. Of course, I haven't actually worn them outside yet, since I am being a complete hermit at the moment, but they are just so cosy, and so comfy and look so cool according to popular opinion...

...I'm a tot, je suis une tot, Tilly, Tom and Meee....

On the jukebox: Andy Williams ~ Music To Watch The Girls Go By

Stupid Student

Today, I have so much to learn and only so many hours in the day.

That's not just it, though. Of course, it's annoying that I waste time fretting over the smallest issues. Of course, it's frustrating that all the worry expended on exam stress is essentially worthless, because at the end of the day, you get a 54 or a 67 or a 72 and that's it. You get a few numbers on a bit of paper, and that's supposed to be good enough to represent all the turmoil that was caused in achieving those scores. That's part of the reason I don't like to over-study. There's nothing more disheartening than making your best effort, working your hardest, and then finding it doesn't pay off. At least if I don't study to the limit, then I can pleasantly surprised to discover that there's something I can answer, rather than being bitterly disappointed that all the studying strain still wasn't enough.

However, there's more to my discontentment than that issue. It's more the dip in the pit of my stomach that surfaces when I find that I'm not good enough for two of my good friends. I know it can be a little bit tiresome to have to deal with those of lower intelligence or less intention to suceed at the highest level, you don't want to be wasting your time explaining simple concepts to others when you're struggling with more complex problems. I suppose I've just never been that person before. I've never been the dumb one before.

On the jukebox: Billy Joel ~ Vienna

Rainbow Butterflies

Today, I have coloured-in.

I’d like to rationalise this statement. Perhaps by saying that I study Geography, therefore colouring-in ability is an essential skill for my degree. Perhaps by saying that I am a Young Leader at Brownies, therefore I needed to have an example of what we are going to create this week. Perhaps by saying that because colouring-in is cathartic and frees the mind of its troubles, my therapist suggested I try it. I’m afraid none of these are the correct explanation - though the last one may have some truth to it - the real reason is that I am secretly a seven-year-old girl, masquerading as a university student and sometimes I like to revert to activities more commonly practised among my own peer group...

It offsets the complexity of quantum mechanics. Plus, it’s really fun - you grown-ups should try it sometime.

On the jukebox: Cyndi Lauper ~ True Colours

Fatal Attraction

Today, I have played with magnets.

Magnets are magical: the strange, inexplicable, invisible forces that are involved in the attraction of one lump to another. Okay, so maybe there’s many forces like that – gravity, love? But none so easily and tangibly observed as this.

The mystery of the unexplained interactions is fascinating. Okay, so maybe there’s a law of physics behind it; it’s not so bizarrely baffling. Still, I think magnets are fantastic. I like to pretend it’s the scientist in me, but of course, it’s really the child in me that gets wowed so readily by such a simple phenomenon.

On the jukebox: The Foundations ~ Build Me Up Buttercup

Conscientious Student

Today, I have an exam.

Now, I need to GET OFF THE DAMN INTERNET, already.

On the jukebox: Pat Benetar ~ Love Is A Battlefield

Krazy Kangaroo

Today, I have drunk too much tea.

I tend to do that when I get a little stressed or have so much to do and only so many hours in a day. Mainlining caffeine is the way forward. Alas, it has the somewhat unfortunate side effect of making me seem a bit of a hysterical maniac or as one friend so aptly put it "like a kangaroo on speed" I babble incomprensibly at 93 miles an hour and leap about the place like a lunatic while singing songs of O-Zone the moldovan pop act rather than studying studies of ozone the stratospheric substance. In a mad world, only the mad are sane...

On the jukebox: Rednex ~ Cotton Eyed Joe

Re: me

Today, I have ignored a message in my inbox.

A friend I haven't seen for a while sent me a message a week or so ago. I haven't replied yet, and it's getting to the point where it's a bit rude, especially since it's obvious I'll have read it by now. Usually I'd respond with comments appropriately. But to be honest, I can't really be bothered.

So in order to deal with it, get it done, the method I took was to only answer anything asked, not go into too much detail. So I scanned for questions. There were none. About 2000 characters of mememe - melife, meproblems, mework. It's pretty much expected, that's happens in our conversations, anyway. In print, the inbalance is made even more obvious. But to not so much as offer a "how've you been?" did surprise me a little.

I do have news! Just one simple pretence of interest would do, a customary "how was your holiday?", even if you don't care, even if it's just out of politeness, even if I don't have anything much to say. Just a brief deviation from the self-centered natter.

This is a good friend indeed, a lovely person, meaning no harm, always would be understanding if I actively sought, I'm sure. And perhaps these problems are worse and more worthy of discussion than my own meaningless, consumer-driven life. But gosh, I wish I'd hear about the same issues a bit less, sometimes. It's not fun to have the sole topic being "Story of My Life and Related Traumas". It does get dreadfully dull, sometimes.

On the jukebox: Coldplay ~ Talk

Lazy Dayz

Today, I have not left the house.

Oh, the joys of a student life, eh?! I’ve been up, washed and dressed since half past eight. Revising. Oh, the woes of a student life, eh?! I am on my fourth cup of tea, and my eighth slide of notes. Slide eight of about 8918. That is all I have achieved in four hours. The exam’s tomorrow. I guess I’d better get cracking…

On the jukebox: Snow White ~ Whistle While You Work - A Happy Working Song!

Chapter 21

Today, I have started a blog.

There are two main reasons people choose to do so:
1. Self-indulgence
2. Public Interest

I suppose this is a mix of both. A release for me, mainly. An insight for you, marginally. 'You' being, of course, any people who will come aclicking to my space. Because there's someone out there, isn't there, isn't there...?

...is there?

On the jukebox: Nina Simone ~ Feeling Good