Cram Bag

Today, I have bought a new bag. 

I am not a fashionable bag and shoes kind of a girl. I own one main handbag; it's purple with plaited shoulder straps and it is perfect for my general needs. I own a couple of smaller cross-body bags that are useful for going out or short outings when I want my hands-free and don't have much to carry. 

While I don't care much for new season clutches or holdalls, I am always interested to know what people have inside their bags, their rooms, their houses, their minds... I like the kind of entries that give an insight into personality that you may not otherwise see, although as remarked on  recent posts; I do not understand how some people's bags can be so tidy?

A few years back, I did the "what's in my bag" thing; and this is what it revealed:

And my bag, of now, three years later. I am a reformed, matured character and now, of course, I only carry the bare essentials:

Welcome to my life, via the medium of my bag. This is not necessarily what I cart around on a daily basis, but just a snapshot of today's load. To be honest, the contents surprised me somewhat, too, but there was no point in carrying out a clear-out before spilling it to the internet. To display this is to confess: I am mostly messy and not proud of it. I'm sure it tells personality beyond that, though. A responsible dog-owner; an obsessive nail-painter; someone who is serious about about oral hygiene and enjoys a decent cup of tea (or, I have travelled recently). Spot anything else that tells you more?

I am not a fashionable bag and shoes kind of girl. 

Flitterbox: Stereophonics ~ Handbags and Gladrags

Lying Down

I like lying down. I do it whenever I get the chance and I have someone crazy enough to join in the game with me - The Lying Down Game. You may have heard of it.

Here's the deal: lie down, face to the ground, arms by your side, feet perpendicular to the floor and get someone to take a photo of the position. The more interesting the surroundings, the better the shot, but you can do it literally anywhere you fancy. 

Sweet Treat

Today, I have cake.

I like coloured cake

I like currant cake

I like chemistry cake

I like castle cake

I like C-cup cake

I like cake.

On the jukebox  Eurythmics ~ Sweet Dreams

Wild Child

Today, I have stayed in.

There are many benefits to being an adult. Independence is one of them. I can go out any night of the week and while people care where I am or if I'll be around for dinner, no-one will expect me to give them a play-by-play or demand that I do what they say. I don't need to consult anyone else to do what I want to do. This ties in with the freedom of being single, which is not to be sniffed at. Yes, it would be nice to cosy up in bed with a boy and a blanket, but there's always time for that.

Last week was a heavy week, socially speaking. I was out four of five evenings, but home before midnight for all but one of them, which is the best way to be, especially when there's a full working day ahead of you. And for your benefit, and for my own personal reminder that I have not gotten too old and boring just yet, I shall lay it out for you...

First was drinks with an old housemate to celebrate her birthday. Not a late one, because we're past the big two-one now and now it's just a flinch with every digit that's added. Eeek, how ancient are we? A good chance to catch-up and find out more about the daily life of someone I used to see every day, but now average around once a month, which is odd but not that odd.

Next up was the band. I'm with the band, haven't you always wanted to be able to say that legitimately? Well, I did. I was on the guest list and I didn't pay for entry and I was that oddball that dances madly and knows the words to this niche folksy indie band that no-one's heard of. It was awesome. The main act wasn't half bad either. And afterwards? We went for drinks with the band; we got bought drinks by THE BAND. On the whole, it was a cheap yet fantastic evening. Though I was one of the youngest ones there, which was also strange to see in a place that's usually filled with people a similar age to me.

In complete contrast, the following night was Disney on Ice, which was filled with people a quarter of my age, as well as those who were at least a decade or two older. I love that I'm at such an age and place in my life that I can appreciate both of these totally different experiences on consecutive nights. The ice-skating was amazing, the princesses beautiful and the princes handsome, as it should be. And it was full of wishes and magic and dancing and singing and all the stories we know and adore. Wonderful.

As the weekend arrived, it was a crazy night out at the neon glow bowling alley. We were the last ones left there and I lost quite spectaculary across two games, even without an ounce of alcohol in my system. But it was ultimate fun and lovely to be able to spend time with people I only tend to see once or twice a season. Even if I did feel like a bit of a seventh part of a six-wheeled car especially when the talk swung 'round to engagement rings. I'm fairly sure I'm going to live the cliché within the next five years or so. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. But there's still time, always time.

So mixed in with the chemistry, the cooking, the lab and the laundry, that was my week. Living with your friends is like having a slumber party every night and yesterday my housemate put Archers in the fruit salad. Today, I made a snowflake out of filter paper and I still get excited about christmas.

I may be an adult, but I'm not all grown-up yet.

On the jukebox: Peter Pan ~ You Can Fly

Tea Time

Today, I have had a cup of tea.

"when did everyone suddenly become obsessed with drinking tea?!"

Not 'til student days did drinking tea become habitual for me. Prior to then, I remember clearly one of my first trips into tea sips on a freezing cold, wet and dreary day out. I don't like chocolate - a cup of hot cocoa was never going to be an option - so I had some tea to warm me up. I wasn't overly enamoured with the stuff, but then it did come from a machine - grey, bitty, lukewarm liquid in a polystyrene cup - so perhaps not the best start.

Once at uni, tea-drinking was to the daytime as alcohol-drinking was to the night. That is, there was the potential to find yourself left out without a mug in hand, or alternatively, a part of a fabulous group of friends purely based on the fact that you shared hot water from the same kettle. It was a bonding thing, to make a cup of tea was to make people like you. And since I was Queen of Mugs and Chief Milk Provider, I was quite popular with the tea-drinkers. We'd sit and sip and chat and share and watch banal daytime TV as if we had nothing better to do, which in actuality is not so far from the truth, we were students after all...

Do you care for tea?

Why yes, I'm very fond of tea

So yes, it's tea all the way. Milk, no sugar, thanks. Ordinary or Earl Grey, preferably, sometimes Green, White or Chamomile in the evening - too much caffeine makes me jittery and aids insomnia. No biscuits, no chocolate wafers, no jam & bread. Just tea will do me. Tea's comforting. Tea's wonderful. I love the Tea. (and the jewellry...)

it's always tea time

On the jukebox: Arcade Fire ~ Wake Up

Felis Catus

Today, I have been picking up on that feline beat

'cause everything else is obsolete

On the jukebox: The Aristocats ~ Everybody Wants To Be A Cat

Keep Swimming

Today, I have consumed a packet of chewing gum.

Three cups of tea. Two bowls of museli with honey. The not-quite nervous breakdown appeared again this morning. Half an hour of text messages exchanged and a brief phone call later, the storm has passed.

"You always do great"

True, but that doesn't stop the irrational fear of failure and persistant panic, propelled exponentially by the sight and sound of peers' perfect notes and superior knowledge. Lack of routine leads to a wandering mind, one which is reluctant to return to full concentration once it's left to drift away. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...

"Fancy trading revision for the real world?"

There arrives the perspective. Of course, revision is tedious, arduous and downright depressing. But probably preferable to the alternative. Revision means that I can afford to spend the day under a duvet and fit in yet another birthday meal (fifth one of the fortnight, win!) in a longer lunch break than would be permitted in The World of Work.

I'm not ready to give this up.

Exams start in two days.

On the jukebox: Anna Nalick ~ Wreck Of The Day <3

Big Sis

Today, I have been the older sibling.

I often adopt the big sister role. I don't know how to play it any other way. I have younger siblings and I have always been the mature, responsible, head-screwed-on one. But my part in this act extends beyond family boundaries. Among friends, I am the look-afterer, the listener, the one who holds your hair back while you're sick in a bucket, the one who you tell when you start smoking, or self-harming, or when you don't know what to do about a boy.

I've never had an older sister, a female role model that is just a few steps ahead. I never know where to go for advice because I'm the one who dishes it out. I don't know how to be vunerable because I am never allowed to be, it would ruin the natural heirarchy and people would lose that sense of security in the order of play as it's always been. The big sister is supposed to know what to do and what to say and how to solve all these problems. The big sister is supposed to be on your side, a guide to the right path to take, 'cause you know, mum and dad just don't get it. I feel like a fool if I admit to feeling less than adequate sometimes, that I'm not up to the job bestowed on me. That I can't stop you feeling like that, that I can't find the words to explain why it's not a good idea, because if I can't convince myself, how am I supposed to expect you to understand?

So, although I don't like to admit it, I like it when you take care of me. I know I am more than capable, eventually, I'd find my own way, but sometimes, it's nice to have someone else take control, to have someone to look out for you, to protect you, to make fun of you when you're being stupid and naïve. Most of the time, I don't mind being the older sister, it makes me pleased to know people feel comfortable confiding in me, that I'm there to lend an ear if they need it.

All I ask is that there's someone like that for me, too.

On the jukebox: The Long Blondes ~ Once and Never Again

May Day

Today, I have a sprained knee.

I slipped down the steps in the rain and my leg is in pain.
It's sunny outside, but what's the point?

I'm still not studying much, I'm still not eating much
I feel like I'm just floating along.

Exams start in three weeks.

On the jukebox: Buddy Holly ~ Raining In My Heart

Golden Curls

Today, I have flip-flop blisters.

I turn twenty-one in twenty-one days.

I'm not eating properly, I'm not sleeping well.
I feel in a bit of a daze.

The last of the autumn leaves have been swept away.

Exams start in a month.

On the jukebox: The Kinks ~ Sunny Afternoon

Psychotic Pyromaniac

Today, I have played with fire.

In the beginning a flame,
very pretty,
often hot and fierce,
but still only light and flickering.

I like the flames.

On the jukebox: Kings Of Leon ~ Sex On Fire

Goosey Gander

Today, I have watched a flock of geese cross the road.

8 minutes later...

Trez amusant!

On the jukebox: Katrina & The Waves ~ Walking On Sunshine

Chit Chat

Today, I have spoken on the phone.

You keep on talking trash,
but you never say anything.

The art of conversation. It's probably a good idea to ask questions but not too probing, tell stories but only if they have a point of interest or humour to them. Talk about work and holidays, but not every detail of your day/week. Listen and offer mmms, ahhs, ohs and yeahs as appropriate; there's no need to repeat exactly what has been said to show you've taken it in. Try and relate the people or concepts to the person you're talking to, tailor the conversation to suit their relationship with you.

Above all, make it a two-way thing. Ensure an even distribution by recognising when you are going off the point, talking for too long or remembering that while the other person may know every single thing about what you do on a day-to-day basis, you have little concept of what their work entails.

Two and a half hours of conversation, and it was only in the last ten minutes that we got to what I was doing that weekend, in my life, or anything about me in general and by this point, I was so dying to get rid of the person on the other end of the line that all my responses were fairly short and noncommittal. I would have gladly said more, but there wasn't much of a chance to get a word in edgeways prior to then, and questions were only asked once the other person had run out of things to go on and on and ooooon about...

Texting FTW!

Today has taught me: there's a reason why I don't like to speak to people on the phone, I only need one conversation to confirm this.

On the jukebox: Spandau Ballet ~ True

Feet Fetish

Today, I have painted my toenails.

Now has begun the season of open-toed shoes, it is appropriate that I should colour my toenails to co-ordinate with my outfit. Unfortunately, the haphazard application of suncream has resulted in golden feet, but magnolia legs, which is fine... as long as I have trousers on!

I'm not one to polish the phalanges very often, toenails even less so than fingernails. Feet certainly aren't my favourite part of the body, my toes are kind of stumpy and my feet are too long and too wide - I don't tend to get them out in public very often. But I love the extra dimension that painting your nails adds to the outfit.

As quoted by someone, it makes me look "like a girl". Cheers, that is the look I generally aim for.

Today has taught me: if I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. When applying suncream, be sure not to miss key areas - such as feet, hands and ears. It's not a good look.

On the jukebox: Madonna ~ Holiday

Fairly Hairy

Today, I have long hair.

You ask almost any guy "long or short" they say long, at least in my experience. Long hair has its advantages - looks more feminine, easier to style, easier to manipulate to how you want it to look. Maybe it does look better. But it's also a lot of effort - washing, drying, straightening, plaiting - it just generally takes eons longer than with a shorter style. Sure it looks good for show - sexy, girly, beautiful, but is it worth it for you, the owner?

However, to keep hair short and sharp involves regular trips to the hairdresser which in my opinion, is not a favourable option. So I keep it long, until it gets so long that it begins to drag me down, such a heavy head of hair that I sometimes wish I could just chop it all off and start again. I am at this point currently. I desperately need a hair cut. It just seems senseless to me to spend the same amount on cutting my hair as it costs for a flight to Europe.

Long Hair or Short Hair?

On the jukebox: Yomanda ~ You're Free

Turning Three

Today, I have celebrated my third anniversary.

"Hi everyone!
This is my blog. You don't know me, yet, but if you look over the following days (or months) more about me and my life may begin to unfold as you learn about things that annoy me very much. You may laugh at some aspects or you may find it totally dull as it is about people and places you neither know nor care about. Whatever you think, feel free to leave a comment, whether you plan to make regular visits, or you are just passing through cyber space, i'd love to hear from you..."

Three years; four names; two sites and countless entries later, here I am. Three years has seen through a hell of a lot: painful heartache, boundless excitement, simple amusements. Three years is an awfully long time, especially in proportion to the pieces of my life that I actually remember. Three years of an almost daily diary-type publication gives a more comprehensive view of feelings present at particular moments than mere memories can manage to conjure up from scratch. I wonder what I'll think when I look back on it all in three years' time?

To you,
The ones who leave their spark,
Upon my own blog spot,
Even if it's just a small remark,
It really does mean a lot.

I'm happy

On the jukebox: Bright Eyes ~ First Day Of My Life :o)

Picture Perfect

Today, I have used my new camera.

After having spilt water on my trusty digital compact camera a couple of days ago - meaning that it now no longer even switches on - I felt compelled to buy a new one. The fact that a holiday is drawing near meant that this decision was more hastily made than I might have liked, but still, I now have a working compact camera, which is a hell of a lot easier to cart about than a DSLR.

Photography is an art that often has me wondering - is it due to the skill of the operator, the luck of the composition or the quality of the equipment? Some days, some situations, some moments, I think - well, you'd have to be completely incompetent to not take a passable photo given the perfect shot in front of you. Is photography a talent to be marvelled at, or just a chance opportunity? Are there good photographers, or only good photographs? Well, I'm sure if you manage enough of the latter, you can be considered to be the former. But what makes a good photo - the technical specifications, or the specific moment caught? Can photography even be considered an art at all? Surely anyone can take a photo, especially if equipped with decent lights, camera and a suitable scene of action.

Just as anything, it's not black and white - a good photographer would combine expert knowledge with creative insight to work out what works for an amazing picture. Sometimes, I feel like photography is an innate ability more than a learned skill. It's part of the reason why I find it so hard to judge, to understand how to measure a talent in something that seems to have no set rules for success. Sure, I know, you can teach someone how to take better photos, and some places you can't fail to take a decent shot but I think part of the skill of a good photograph is the instinctive sense of what makes a good photo - even if you don't know why it is that it works well. I'm not sure if what I'm trying to put across actually makes sense, but whether you speak as a person who is into photography or not, I'd like to know what you think on the matter...

On the jukebox: Irene Cara ~ What A Feeling

Summer Scenery

Today, I have let go of an old companion.



What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.




No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.



No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.



No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.



No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.



A poor life this is if, full of care,



We have no time to stand and stare.



Farewell Fujifilm Finepix F11. You have served me well.
August 2006 - July 2008
RIP

On the jukebox: One Republic ~ Stop and Stare

Rave On

Today, I have gone with the flow.

Students are a bizarre breed. Last night, I had a bit of a flashback-from-the-future. It's weird, how you look back at how you were once upon a time, and it just seems so alien to the you that you are now. How can I have ever been like that? Did I really used to drink that much? Was it as carefree and simple as I remember? Was it really all party party party?

However much one is affected by alcohol, it's fair to say that most of the time, people are too involved in what's happening at that moment now, to take a step back and observe the situation. It makes sense - reminscence happens after the event, not during. It all seems to flash past so fast, life flying through 'til all that's left is last minutes and lost evenings. Then, every now and again, I find myself in the throng of it all. Here I am, on the sidelines of studentdom - this is what they talk about university living. Here I am, a part of it. Here I am, belonging to this unnatural way of being. I find myself in situations I could have never imagined even happening to anyone, let alone myself being connected to them. It's so strange.

When I look back on this all in years to come, I suspect that I'll remember it as a sort of not quite real, rose-tinted view of the way students are. It's part of the reason I keep this record, I guess, a kind of virtual pinch to wake myself up to the fact that these things did actually happen, it's not remote stories of someone else's life. I was there, it was real. However crazy, however random, however stupid, however regretful, I did it - it was me.

And I won't sit down,
And I won't shut up
And most of all, I won't grow up

On the jukebox: Wiley ~ Wearing My Rolex

After Exams

Today, I have finished.

Now what?

The beginning is always today

On the jukebox: Eagle-Eye Cherry ~ Save Tonight