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 Happy Christmas!

It's so rainy here it feels more like early autumn that the night before Christmas. I was thinking recently, (actually when I was ice skating in Reading), remembering how intense it used to feel when you were slightly younger and falling for someone. If they didn't want you, it felt like your heart was being suffocated. I remember the intensity. It made me realise that nothing has made me feel that way in a long time.

It makes me ask questions. Questions about what I want to be doing. I'd sell my soul to easily walk away from my degree and go far away. Not for any reason other than to see everything and learn. To work for my day to day life, to meet extraordinary people once more. To meet myself maybe, I know that whole 'finding yourself' sounds corny, but I have no clue where I want to go and I have come to realise recently that I don't really like myself. I don't think I am kind, or generous or extraordinary. I am in fact - extra-ordinary.

If I come across that way, I think it is because acting kindly makes me feel less guilty about who I really am. I should go and meet people who make me feel less cocky and self-centred. I want to learn to live without that guilt about who and what I am. Who I am underneath everyone's perception of me. Then I can look my few close friends in the eye and not feel like I ought to be apologising to them.

I'm not sad about these thoughts, because I believe they are a necessary beginning of any journey. Whether that be me taking some time or continuing this path with a new attitude. I am unclear, but I am feeling positive.

Honesty.

Wales!

One exam, one night out and a 3 hour car journey later, I am in Wales again. It's been extra special by the fact that my dog has been to the groomers, and he smells like talcum powder it's so good. I'm in my lush bed with a hot water bottle having eaten the best eggs for dinner.

Also have my staff party tomorrow night - SO excited to see everyone and have some drinks! Just ecstatic to be back so far. I feel like this Christmas is going to have a lot of good things in store. It's a perfect time for a fresh start, and keeping up the new attitude I have about everything. Next term is so much quieter work wise, which is perfect. None of this is particularly interesting, but it's out there anyway.

Ooh! Actually I do have a funny story, my flatmate left his phone on bluetooth connected to a speaker in the kitchen, and porn started playing out of it. It was so funny, he didn't realise for ages.

Good Places

On another note, I just surprised myself by starting the first drawing in about 4 years. No wait... how old am I? 3 years. I've really forgotten how to do it, it's sort of comical, but I'm glad to see that my patience for it is still there.

Trying to juggle the exam revision, prep for tomorrow, exercise and eat what's left in my fridge so we can switch it off and clean it before I leave. It's all very stressful. AND in a bizarre turn of events, I saved money today. Like this: I got paid, and I transferred some of it into a savings account. I KNOW. Just before Christmas and everything! I don't know what's got into me. Probably a bloody good idea.

Bought another Christmas present today and feeling hugely successful. It's one of the sad parts of being a student, I feel like Christmas is happening somewhere else because we can't watch proper tv adverts, and the house is not decorated because we all leave this weekend. It's really going to hit me when I get home and the house is freezing and there's mistletoe everywhere.

Like a dream come true.

Meanwhile, Milly's mum forgot to pick up their passports at the gate in Heathrow, so she is currently stranded in Dubai waiting for their passports to be flown over so they can get through immigration. Honestly, I despair. So so so funny.

One Exam, One Group Presentation and One Test.

So today was my first exam, it went terribly but apparently everyone else's did too so hopefully it'll be alright... ignorance is bliss.

Now I have one test to complete, a group presentation tomorrow and finally an exam on Friday night to go! I'll be in that car driving home before I know it. Cannot WAIT to see my mum, my dogs, the decorations in the house, the fires, the music. Gives me shivers thinking about it!!!

I feel like Wales has turned me into a country girl. Words can't describe how at home I feel there, and how much I love the community and the people. Coming from where I was before, it's just nice that everyone looks out for each other. Salisbury was great, but it was too big to feel as homely. I'm a very lucky girl.

Just got to plod on with my work now!!!

8 days to go

 This last week has gone impressively quickly! One week to go, this time next week I hope I am already lasagned with my course mates. Did I mention I was grateful for them?

 And then Waaaaaaales yaaaaaay. Words can't describe how excited I am. Can't wait to get back to the cafe... drop some more cups, spill some more stuff and generally bodge up everything. This is going to be the best Christmas yet.

Plus to top all that off, mum's been to the doctors and everything with her heart is looking really good, medication is doing what it should and her lifestyle changes are making huge progress. Which calls for bubbles and mulled wine as soon as I am home. Can't wait to get my tacky faux fur coat back on and walk along streets with fairy lights arm in arm with mum, while she talks at me about plants and christmas food and keeps pointing out different things in shops.

I swear I'll blink this week and it'll be gone again.

May even crack out the jumper soon...

Grateful

Tonight I'm grateful for:
1. Books you can't put down
2. Course friends
3. Lady C's medical problems

12 days...

Happy first of December, I bought the first Christmas present the other day. I'm not sure they'll like it to be honest but there we go... can only improve.

Today I'm appreciating:
1. Messages from far away friends of the past
2. My English coursemates
3. Surprise parcels from those who worry and love me

14 Days and Counting

After a little bit of a panic and stress I'm finally getting to a calmer state about everything that's happening in my course. Out of that list of projects I have at the moment:

• 2 exams
• 1 assignment
• 2 group projects
• 3 online tests
• 1 statistics test

Add to that the extra strain of changing housemates and all the paperwork that goes with it. Whilst I'm very fond of the boys I live with, the majority of them leave everything to myself and Milly to sort. Let's just say I have a lot more sympathy for my mum dealing with her teenage sons now...

BUT I have been exercising regularly, I've lost weight and am already feeling the benefits AND by Tuesday I will have knocked two projects off that list! In 14 days time I will be packing up my jumpers and my houseplants to drive home for Christmas. 

I feel pretty positive right now. And my modules for next term are amazing so I'm in a better place, I've stopped drinking for a bit just to stop the whole becoming-a-psycho-girl thing and try to mend some relationships with people I was um... not great to. But it could be worse right!

Also, Justin Bieber is helping me through this time with his annoyingly good new album (if Joz or Barney are reading this, I'm sorry to let you down).

Panic

I think the emotions I've had frequently recently are as close as I have ever come to panic. I wake up every day around 6am and feel like someone is holding my chest really tight. I've often been waking up holding my cushion really really tight too, which is weird. I take ages to get to sleep because I feel so stressed about everything, and then I wake early and panic and in between I've been having horrendous nightmares.

It's really not a great feeling, I'm normally such a relaxed person. I'm starting to seriously worried about what my head is doing. It seems like a lot of the patterns I'm used to are being rearranged and flipped in my head. I'm not acting the same way I normally do to a lot of things. A bit freaky.

In other news, I bought a bonsai tree. My second house plant now if you count the basil.

My reading thing! I was going to talk about my reading resolution for this year. I have been BATTLING with this book called the Establishment by Owen Jones. It's very VERY wordy and whenever I start to read a bit I get super sleepy very quickly. But I have been trying to get past it!!! I will leap onto other books as soon as I get through more of it! I'm going to write up a schedule tomorrow and finishing that bloody book is going to be a priority, though it is one of the most affluent versions of my personal opinions when it comes to politics it's not an easy read.

Mistakes

I guess I'm going through a bit of a hard time at the moment. Sometimes when you crack, people can be in the middle of their own mess and they don't need to deal with your stuff. I don't like to make a fuss really but I feel like I'm drowning sometimes. I mean really, I've been dreaming it. It's not anything scarring, nothing terrible is really happening to me. It's just feelings, and everything happens at once you know? I feel a bit like I've been doubly clobbered and my actions make everything worse lately. It's got me questioning who I am, I seem to always have love at the top of anything else I may be searching for. That means I end up falling for incompatible people and messing myself around - only to turn around and blame them. I'm only picking up on the patterns that keep repeating themselves. But the worst person I've ever gone for in terms of being an awkward situation has turned out to be the best, because he might be the only person who is really willing to listen to me - years later - and as am I for him. I'm lucky to have someone that valuable in my life no matter what happens. He might be thousands of miles away but he remains my rock since I was just a 17 year old girl. Though I am sorry for everyone I hurt in that process, but it's been the best thing for me.

The only reason I'm posting anything this personal is because I've stumbled trying to think of what to post on here. Also because my viewings are teeny now that I haven't been posting it anywhere online I don't feel it's too attention seeking to write something more emotional on here... it's really an online diary.

"Knuckle Down"

I've been going through a patch recently where I haven't really felt like myself. The workload I have for this term has been an absolute joke, with two exams before christmas both counting as 100% for two modules (obviously the most difficult ones), two group projects, tests and an assignment within three weeks of each other. By Christmas I'll have to remember that it leads to a peaceful second term with only two days a week of lectures!

It's been that with a combination of personal stuff, money worries and not adoring my coursework that has made me feel a little alienated at the moment. I've been taking it out on all the wrong people, friends, flatmates and my parents worrying about me at home (despite the addition of a brand new fluffy dressing gown which dad treated me to a couple of weeks ago). I even had my first ever moment of acting like my mum when she's stressed - that's a scary experience for anyone!

This week was particularly bad, after last Saturday's night out I had to take the liberty of sending THREE apology messages to people the next day who'd I'd unfairly harassed or been rude to... not impressive behaviour. Probably the most psycho I've ever been... I shan't go into details. So yesterday I took the opportunity after doing my work, having a bath and going for an early night to thank everyone important who's suffered from my little breakdowns.

Sometimes when you know you've got a shit day coming up and you're worrying about it, all you need to do is stop and take a step back from it. I realised last night that whatever the problem is, you probably won't even remember in a years time. Or maybe even a month's time. And if it goes horrifically worse than you'd expected? Is it really going to change where you find yourself in five years time? Probably not.

So it is time to let go of all the worries and actually knuckle down with work. My sleeping has been a nightmare for weeks (literally after an array of horrifying bad dreams) so I've been sleeping earlier, reading more and eating a little less. Milly's even going to attempt getting me on her workout programme... ha... how often have I said that before though.

Bit of self-belief, bit of gratitude for the love you have around you, and a bit of momentum was all I needed. You got this.

Self Value

 I've been in a very confusing yoyo motion when it comes to my self worth lately. It started with an unconscious compression of negativity, which I could only identify was around me when I removed myself from that environment and went home over summer; it was like a weight was lifted. I've changed from being beautiful, to average, to ugly and always seemed to believe in whatever I was told. Lately I've learned to realise that the most negative comments come from those who know me the least, and care about me the least. And yet, it's still implanted in my head.

 So how do comments, criticism and complimentation affect your view of yourself? My mum is always furious with me when hearing what people think of me makes me feel low about myself. But it's hard to avoid something boring into your head when it's repeated and repeated and repeated over and over again. One positive comment can become unacknowledgeable in a sea of negativity.

 There's so much we give out just from our attitude and how we feel. It's like that weird experiment which showed that female strippers got more in tips when they were at their most fertile in their hormonal cycle  - when someone believes they are attractive, they seem to become it. It comes in phases too, but it's not really something you can fake.

 I've found that your self-image can affect the way you act towards people. The way I've been with men recently resembles massively the needy 17 year old girl I once was. It's the manic desire to give away love - to anyone - and being unable to recognise poor actions before you can stop them. That's made me question a lot of who I am, whether I ever really grew up from that clingy little girl. Have I ever developed my own way of being attractive? Do I find myself attractive? It's not just what I look like, it's how I act, who I am. And does anyone think that of me, that's the scariest feeling, not being wanted.

 It's a very horrible feeling to be that swallowed up by your own doubt and confusion in the mix of other people's comments and treatment. I feel like I'm tumbling through the middle of that process right now. It's a very lonely place to be, especially knowing it's inevitable and will take its time.

 But this will pass, as ever. Just good to get it off my chest to a silent audience.

Year 2...

 After probably one of my favourite summers: working in a place with the most amazing staff and driving around with friends for months on end, I'm now a few weeks back into uni. I was pretty nervous leaving the incredible countryside in Wales, feeling like the best version of me at that time and heading for Reading - knowing I'd have to adapt to that sarcastic and critical humour from the boys. It's been a bit of a bumpy transition for me, personally, but it's good.

 So far I've celebrated a few birthdays, had my wallet stolen (the bastards spent £500 with my cards and cash!), accidentally flashed my boobs at friends and eaten slightly dodgy chicken.

 I asked Milly the other day about whether she ever worries that she wasted any of her youth by missing out on experiences. We both laughed about the desire we had to try and run away. She told me she once packed her bags and hid in the house, so when they realised she would have the satisfaction of scaring her parents but then be able to just pop out and calm them down. She has the same fears as I do.

 For me I just worry that there are never enough stories to tell about being younger. I was unfortunately, or fortunately however you look at it, incredibly happy as a child. I don't have those crazy stories that weren't funny at the time but are now, because everything was alright. There was nothing to rebel from. When I first passed my driving test, I considered driving with my music on loudly through town as the most exhilarating experience that I could bear. (Mind you I did once hide my sandwiches under my bed for weeks and that was definitely not funny when mum found out.)

 Now I'm 20 and I don't know what I want, still. Well actually that's a lie. I realised a while ago that all I wanted was to be extraordinary. But I fear I may be too lazy for such a life to be realistic, and I don't know how to put that word into practise. Hmmm...

Summer Term

 Have just had the most fabulous two weeks working for a mannequin company in London. It was a place I visited for work experience back in year 10 and I loved the people, the feel to the place and the odd pieces of body parts lying around. Feel so inspired by all the things I learnt while I was there and desperate to come back to the company at some point with the right knowledge and training behind me.

 I also had a fab weekend at home where mum and dad have begun preparing their alternative stag/hen parties. It's a beautiful little space - a bit like a small studio - with windows they found for a few quid at the dump, corrugated tin roofing and stunning views. I will upload some photos soon but don't have any at the moment so instead heres some papier mache balloons...

 Over the weekend I was taking photographs and editing their website for them to get it started. It's still pretty empty at the moment but check it out: http://www.springfieldarts.co.uk There are links to their Facebook, Twitter and Instagram pages which are worth looking at. Currently they're planning to start up alternative hen/stag dos where they teach the people to sing a song for the wedding (I know it's not waking up on a roundabout in Leeds but still).

 Mum and I also discovered that flour + water makes glue (!) and have begun an art installation for the space with balloons and paint. Pictures below:

The festival was also on, saw Stephen Fry talk and that was wicked. And drank pimms. Happy happy days. Feeling very inspired, want to get home and make stuff!

Also I would just like to say that I have a terrible tendency to be a bitch to innocent people when I first meet them. For example, In freshers I met an innocent boy, lets call him Ralph. Ralph could not have been kinder to me, took interest me, and seeked my friendship. Unfortunately readers I chose to, for no reason, hate him. Reflecting now I think to myself how could I hate such a loving, attractive and all round good person. Now the tables have turned and If i want to keep any friends at uni then I need to suck up to him.

You know you love me, xoxo

Attributes

 Recently I've taken on the project of getting my body back to how I want it to be. I've piled on sneaky pounds for just shy of a year now, and I'm done with it now. I have a real limitless stomach and nothing seems to make me full anymore, is the main problem.

 Entering the gym again this week has made me evaluate just what I want to be and who I want to be. I've always been in there feeling like my sports kit wasn't good enough: that I have the 'hiking' Nikes and everyone else has the running ones, in a better colour. I've presumed that my sports kit looks stupid, that I should be doing more time, faster. I feel like everyone in the gym is looking at me and watching to see when I crack. The gym is full of two types of people, I think: people who love themselves, and people who hate themselves.

 This week, I've had an essay to finish for Monday, a German aural test today which took a lot of prep time, a 2000 word report due for Friday, two friends' birthday Friday night, work Saturday and Sunday, and an assignment due in on Monday. I have had no time for revision and I thought I'd be more stressed than I am. But for some reason I've been pretty cheery and happy about it. It's so good to get lots of stuff done.

 There's always the same personality traits to work on as well: speak less about myself, speak less, be there for the people who need you, do the right thing blah blah blah. But it feels like some of those are happening even through this process of constant work. I feel like I'm becoming me - if that makes sense.

Just me?

 I'm praying that's it not just me who's peppering my parents with quotes from uni (Ja'mie King mostly, thanks Raef) and driving them mad with it. I've trained my mum to keep putting her two fingers up and saying 'YOLO' like we all do and when I say "Where are we going?" my parents both chorus back reluctantly with: "Banterbury".

 I think they want me to go back now. And so do I, I am ridiculously home sick for everybody there. I understand that I'm going through the irritating time where uni friends are everything to you, but I really don't care. This feels like my time, finally. Not really sure what I mean by that... I know it entails having -700 pounds, a crate of beers and some of the worst private jokes ever. Happiness.

Listen to this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0k_i8PPM40

5 Books Behind...

 To be fair, before you start judging me as a failure, I have read 10 books since the beginning of this year. And I think that's pretty damn good. But I am five behind and trying to zip through them while I'm at home for Easter.

 I bought a brilliant couple of books in London last week, one of which is a fantastic situational comedy about Hitler called Guess Who's Back: he wakes up in 2011 in a field in Berlin and he is pissed off with the world he sees. He keeps being taken for a flawless impersonator who never breaks character and he ends up on a tv show and all sorts. It's very amusing and also quite shocking, to see how easily someone could rise to fame again for the wrong reasons. The problem with extremist comedy is that there's always a bunch of nutters watching and nodding their heads.

 The second book was the Rosie Effect, a guy with some form of aspergus syndrome is told by his wife they're expecting a baby, car crash narrative from then on. He goes to a park at one point to film children to see how they act, the police come along and he uses his aikido to defend himself from them because he doesn't like to be touched, that kind of thing. Very funny.

 Anyway, I know all that's quite dull. I also learnt this week that my brother is having a book published and also has been asked by a prestigious organisation to write a play for them. Very happy and proud for him, but selfishly it did make me ponder on the relative chance of myself having any relative success. I've always been a bit less... focused shall we say, than my brothers. I don't know where I want to go yet. A bit like Beethoven's sister - he did have a real one, and she did music and it didn't go down so well. Because Beethoven was her brother. Mind you she wasn't a raging drug addict so that's something to aspire to at least...

 It's quite hard to sometimes think where your voice is going to cut through the crowds. I was much more productive in my gap, when I needed to find things to do because I wasn't doing any extra stuff outside of work. How I miss that, finishing at 5 and having nothing to think about.

 Must get on.

1st April

 A year ago today I was on a plane travelling to Vietnam. I don't know whether an hour in was when the food I was served gave me a very bad stomach *insert graphic detail here* or whether it was later. Either way, I was watching Gravity on the main screen because mine didn't work, and I saw the whole film without any of the dialogue.

 That is probably the most boring detail I could go into about that day. I do remember that I'd been incensed that I wasn't going to get an easter egg, so mum bought me one before we left and we were desperately trying to eat about five twirls before I left. Joz, my brother, rang me and said 'Turn around, wave, yep... yep I can see- that's really mean sorry I'm not actually there.'

 Mum cried when I went through the gate. I got to Vietnam and bought a packet of Walkers = 'Lays' and they were green but 'nori seaweed' flavour. That was weird. I slept on a bench for about 6 hours. What an adventure.

 Today I'm in halls by myself, having just come back from London and am going to get a train home today to see mumma and pappa Evans. If you ever wondered what it's like to live in a building with 300 doors but about 7 people, it's actually frightening. Eerie silence all the time - I've actually grown to miss the dude in the room above me who plays music at 3am and taps his feet out of time with the beat. I miss everyone heaps and heaps. Now if I hear a sound outside my room I leap up to see if it's a real person, feeling a bit like Bear Grylls going mad in the wilderness. And shock horror - diet hasn't been great.

 Just read 'The Catcher in the Rye' which was brilliant, very moany teen stuff. Bought a book yesterday which looks hilarious - Hitler wakes up in 2011 and finds the world being run by women and immigrants and he is mighty pissed off to be continually mistaken for a flawless impersonator. Can't wait to start it. Need to finish packing for home now.

Easter

 I've done the brilliant thing and managed to contract an illness just before I go home again! Excellently executed, couldn't have done it in better time! This time though, it's pretty certain (minus the doctors appointment that's happening tomorrow) that it's tonsillitis. You've got to laugh though haven't you! Hahahaha!

 I'm currently sat in bed with Raef (just to top it all, there was no better company going round) and trying to hammer out a German review. Of course, when I say trying, I mean that I'm doing this instead. Now he's going to put his music on... oh good. His 'calm music' is RARI WORKOUT. Loving this. You know the old saying, if you've got a headache - put dubstep on! Raef is on the bus to BANTERBURY.

 Here's a snap from us earlier, when he came in and fell asleep on me while I watched Fifty Shades - which is suitably and comfortingly as bad as I had imagined it would be. Her laugh is very irritating.

I've also got a whacking temperature so I'm half in a very warm 'onezie' and half taking it off to reveal my leggings and t-shirt every 5 minutes.

 But it's fine. Because I'm practically done for Easter now and once I've got antibiotics tomorrow I'll feel better. There's no problems films and Raef can't fix! Thank god for that!

Swings and Roundabouts

 Life is full of ups and downs generally, and it's pretty difficult to understand why it happens that way. Why one year can be awful, or a few months, or weeks. But things do have a funny way of sorting themselves out.

 Turns out I made a right tit of my student finance, by applying for my tuition fees through England instead of Wales, so my parents are wading through paperwork to try and undo this error... sorry mum.

 Been sorting my life out the past couple of days, need to get a cafe job or something to help with money. Also have a few deadlines coming up so it's the library for me tomorrow. Crazy busy weekend though, it's fight night on Friday, they're holding a mock boxing night at union which has sold out - should be brill. Then Saturday it might be union with a friend who's normally working, and this coming tuesday is a boat party for the halls.

 All very exciting. The elections for JCR positions have meant that propaganda has been everywhere for the past few days, posters and post-it notes, scary edited pictures and tall angry south africans. Life.

Guest Writers

 I want to thank Raef for his most recent addition to my blog. It's an absolute honour to have a guest writer on here, it has been a while. I may get someone else to write soon. His post was of course, not true.

 He's also been bugging me because I haven't written about him, so this post will now be dedicated to Raef.

 Raef is a friend from my halls at university. He's borderline ADHD, very fidgety, doesn't wear shoes, rubs his dirty feet all over everyone's bed and is a disgusting eater. He also needs surgery to fix his nose because his breathing is THE LOUDEST SOUND IN THE BUILDING. But unfortunately these habits are accepted by everyone because we love him. Whether it's his little skits: 'don't touch me here, don't touch me there, don't touch me in my no no square.' or his jokes: 'What's the difference between your mum and a bowling ball? Nothing, they both get fingered and chucked down an alley.' we really do love him.

 He just followed me into Milly's room to work and is now watching the Lion King with his head phones on and BREATHING REALLY LOUDLY.

 This is what he looks like. We love him. RAEF FOR SOCIAL SEC!

Hey to all my lovers and readers ... 

i have an anouncement 

im gay 

Going Out Sober

 Every time I tell myself I'm going to stay in and avoid the killer hangover the next day, in the hope that I will actually do my work, the inevitable happens. Saturday night, I had plans to go to the library the next day and blast through an essay due in for Friday with Bea. I was coming back on a train from London, having felt faint and sick all day, and Milly texted me to say she was coming out. So I thought there'd be no harm in going out sober...

...didn't last long.

 When you think about it sensibly, it's never going to be a good time if you're sober and your mates are trolleyed. Realistically, as it turned out, you find yourself pushing through the middle of the dance floor, having never noticed when intoxicated before just how wet you get from the smear of everyone's sweaty backs. Desperately hoping to get outside and some air, when your friend drunkenly starts arguing with you about something you're not drunk enough to care about.

 Saturday was alright in the end, because seconds in to arriving, sober, at the union I bump into Bea, who's said we'll hunker down in paperwork the next day, and she's completely gone. Collapsing laughing on you on the dance-floor as you shout 'library tomorrow then'. Maybe not, as it turns out. She then went outside for some air and 5 minutes later me and three other boys were trying to twist her stiletto out of a drainage system, whilst she was howling with laughter.

 That was the point this weekend where I thought 'screw it, I'm having a drink'.

Life and shit

 Tonight is the first time I've had one of those random erupting in tears moments in a while. Not really sure particularly why that happened, shocked myself a bit. I'm pretty sure it was nothing to do with the Plagiarism essay I was writing... it didn't really help things though to be honest.

 Felt a bit panicky, like I wanted to get away for a moment. Now I've taken a break, finished my work and calmed down a bit I feel oddly positive. Maybe that's because I accidentally picked up my mum's top from the last wash at home, and the neckline is so pretty I may adopt it permanently (sorry ma).

 Really I think I'm just really missing travelling. I want to be in different places all the time, I'm dying to get back out there. At the moment money is so tight I can't see myself getting out of this country ever again, and I'd love to go to Europe this year. Especially when people around you are planning all their trips, it's hard to imagine that your summer is quickly looking like you living in a 9 bed house in Reading alone, working and sleeping.

 I suppose it's part of the adventure. Just a difficult thing to learn, patience.

Detoxed

 "What do you do all day there?" people ask me about being in Wales, with my parents instead of visiting friends in Salisbury.
  I read. I tell them. I read and read and read.
  I say it like I've always done it but it's a recent thing. Having been a bit behind on the '52 books for 52 weeks' thing, I've just caught up and am ready to plough through my next novel.  7 books down, 45 to go...

  The first one I read here was Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. When I saw the film version initially a few years back, I was unimpressed with it. There was too much going on, and it just looked like a badly adapted book. The book is fab.

  It made me want to throw in the towel on everything and travel, properly this time, deep into everything. Deeper than the locals would go. I want to see and do so much and it's this ticking time bomb in me. Obviously on hold until uni is over, so must concentrate on now and enjoy it while it lasts, seeing as I'm aiming to travel to learn to enjoy the here and now.

  Second book was Daughter, which was a rush-read. It's gone a bit over my head, like binge watching your favourite crime series, only to find out that it would have been better to eek out the process more. Plus the ending didn't satisfy me.

  Old family friends are staying for the next couple of days to celebrate the dad's birthdays, theirs tomorrow and ours Sunday. Then I'll be getting a train back to Reading with Fred and diving into catch up sessions and assignments. Hooray.

  Feeling refreshed... but can't shake off this god awful cough now. It bites me in the ass every time I want to sleep.

...talking of which. Night.

Detox Week

 It's "Enhancement Week" for me right now, which basically means half term. 5 weeks of drinking have broken me, had the mother of all colds, back pain, dizziness, feeling faint. It's been bliss. So I've retreated to the comfort of my Welsh home and am curling up on any surface I can find, to be spoilt by my parents. Absolute heaven.

 Need to get back into my reading as well, I've just started Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's been a big comfort so far, she says early into the book that she's envious of those people who are made for travelling, the ones who can argue with border control people and get themselves out of being mugged. They have the kind of skin colour that allows them to blend in anywhere. She says she can't do any of that, including the stern look you need to have on your face which states to anyone that you're in control. But besides this, her love of travelling remains.

 I liked that. Because I was a bit like that, bumbling through travelling, missing some of the best stuff you had to see because I'm horribly lost, and not once did I get offered to go and drink snake blood in some random person's house at midnight. Nor did I skinny dip, get chased by anyone or have to call the British government. In fact, the scariest moment of my travelling was when a fat labrador puppy grabbed ahold of my trouser leg in Peru, which resulted in a lot of me trying to gently kick it and swearing my head off, whilst the two girls I was travelling with were shouting: "You're going to get Rabies!"

 I really should become a columnist. Here's a happy frog.

Death is only a part of life

 How does one tribute the life of a person? Whenever somebody passes away, we find ourselves awkward, unable to know what to say or how to handle it. It's often said that people are uncomfortable because they don't know what to say, how to comfort. I think it's really because we are forced to question our own lives, and facing the fact that often we have our own interests at heart and no one elses. Personally, when someone I know has died, I find myself questioning whether I'm being indulgent in wanting to go to their funeral. Or whether I have a right to message that person and tell them I'm sorry.

 How do I look them in the eye and ask about what happened when I'm just thinking about my own conscience? I'm panicking about how I look to other people. Why they think I'm paying my respects. And knowing I'll ball my eyes out at any funeral is difficult. It looks like a literal 'cry for attention'. I start to think about my life, and what that person meant to me. And identifying the same relationship in my own life and re-evaluating it. 

 If it's someone you know well, or someone you felt responsible for, you find yourself thinking - what am I going to do with my life that acknowledge's the way they lived theirs?

 I wrote to my great uncle for around two years before he passed away this week. I haven't ever really had a wider family, we were very different to both sides. My grandmother, my great uncle's sister, who I tried once to contact, sent me a letter back telling me to have a nice life. So there's no affection there. But her brother, wrote to me and wanted to know everything.

 I used to write and tell him about what I was up to and he'd send me some fab type-written letter back about his past or his late wife, with some wicked jokes. I sent him a postcard from every country I visited. I sent him a silly christmas card with a cartoon of some camel's on the front, one of them had those goggly eyes that stick on, and across the top it read 'Oh Camel Ye Faithful'. He was a symbol of the family I had never known.

 He was very 'proud' of my writing and what I was doing. And now I wonder how do I remember his life when I knew him so little. He was pen and paper to me. Do I use his person in fiction? Some file saved on my computer... do I have the right to see his funeral? I don't know. I don't really know what's the least attention seeking thing I could do. Write a blog post?

 Isn't it funny what death does to us? It is a constant guarantee in life, it reoccurs to those we know well and those we know less. And we are none the wiser. Fascinating.

PARRDDAAAAY

 Well, I got a job. It's one of those catering companies, I'll be booked to do weddings and hold drinks and smile. I might drop things too but he said as long as I don't drop it on the bride it's ok! Touch wood...

 The last couple of weeks I've suddenly enjoyed going out clubbing a hell of a lot more. Every night I tell myself I'm not going out all it takes is Ryan to smile at me and go 'you know you want to' and I'm throwing on my partay jeans and some lippy.

 But now I think I'm going to find the right balance. Looking forward to some upcoming events, and besides those I can pace myself a bit better. I was a bit behind on my book reading, and when I saw my brother Barney on Monday he saw my 'to read' pile and pointed out that one of the books was two plays in one. He said that counts as two books..

 I'm going with that. I read one last night, Rita, Sue and Bob too. It's about two babysitters that start sleeping with the father of the kids and then one of them gets preggers and moves into a flat with him. It was weird. But short. I like short.

 Continuing on my emotional, intellectual and physical education this year. Namely three things I want to achieve: reading for intellect, gyming for physicalect [sic], and arty fartying for emotialect [sic].

HOORAY I ALSO HAVE A BROWNIE TO EAT.

Writing

 Going through a patch where I find it difficult to think of new ideas of things to talk about. I think I put a lot of mental pressure on myself with articles lately, and now I've had a major cold I feel a bit wiped out. You know how it is, when you feel a bit ill and it's hard enough trying to figure out if you want lunch or not.

 Need to keep reading, it's a major stimulus for new ideas, I think. Oh some good news though, I got a first for my blog assignment, so thanks to anyone who read it! Not that that helped... it's the thought that counts yano?

 Got my dad and brother coming for dinner on Monday night, lunch with an old friend on Sunday so it's set to be a nice weekend. Milly's off to her boyfriend's for the weekend and Francesca has her mumma down so I think I may have a lot of time to try and sort my head out...

...or just watch a lot of 4od.

Motivation

 Week 2, it's 2:15 and I've not yet had a shower, dressed properly or got any work done. Need to finish my book still and desperately trying to find ideas of articles to write for Blasting News. It always seems tempting to fob everything off just to watch that chick flick I've been 'meaning to watch'. So so lazy.

 I miss that drive I had when I got home from South America. I was so ready for everything. I wanted, and still do, everything I can get from life. Sometimes I worry things look better on paper than they do in real life. Saying 'I've sent out loads of applications' means I was in bed in my pajamas doing anything but writing my essays.

 Haven't been tempted by any of the societies, still been meaning to dance. Still need to exercise more. Still need to wash my sheets.

 But I occasionally get these mad flashes where loads gets done, and the more I've been reeping the benefits of the incredible social options you have living in halls - enjoying spending time with new people as a mix with those I'm comfortable with - and absolutely adoring that those I've become closer too are starting to trust me with their problems and stories. As am I, I just don't have any problems beyond - my floor needs a hoover, that are worth discussing as of yet.

 I always tell people when they're sad that they should go running because you get so many endorphins from it, so the first step for me should be exercise. In my defence, I've been to the gym twice since I've been back. That's a lot more than I used to go... all of last term I went three times?

 COME ON POPS.

Second Book

 I'm almost done with my third book now and I realised I didn't mention the second. I won't bore you with a review every week but I'll combine this with my life now, as it were.

 So I just read 'Breakfast of Champions', which was a present from brother Joz at Christmas. I should point out there that he's my brother and not a priest. Yes I could have gone back and edited that sentence but it's easier to go forwards.

 I've just sent off a first draft of an article for The Tab which is very exciting. I've asked for some work over summer, I'm getting paid marginally by Blasting News. I'm an overdraft bum, with many CVs handed out and not a lot back. I'm considering doing one of those medical thingies, where they pay you a horrendously high amount of money to swallow some pills for a week. I may become paralysed but at least I'm ground floor at St Patricks.

 Anyway, the book. Was harder to get into. My brothers always give me literature that challenges me and I find it difficult, obviously. But I did get into this one. The writer was in the story, discussing how they, the characters were his creation and he could manipulate what was happening first hand. A very odd storyline, but nonetheless exciting.

 Now I'm on to Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. I am enjoying the plummet into words. I also found out the other day that Salisbury was named by the Celts... many exciting things happening here.

 The other night I went out out with friends, and halfway through the night I thought to myself - 'you're mad' and ran home crying because I thought I was. I've concluded in consciousness that I am in fact fine, and was reacting to something someone had just said to me. But it was pretty weird at the time.

That's all.

BENEFITS: UK NATIONALS VS IMMIGRANTS

Our benefits system has been forced into the light and shown its ugly head. The first time it caught my eye, was in the show Benefits Street, run by Channel 4 and aired in January of 2014. Some of the people on the show were really in a difficult position and deserved the money they were receiving. However, a few of them made me absolutely furious.

There was one particular episode where a woman was chatting to a single mother. The single mother was saying how hard she’d been trying to get a part time job that meant she was around for her kids. This other woman was laughing at her and saying what was the point, she could just go on benefits and the government pay you to do nothing.

Mark and Becky, a shot from the series Benefit Street by Channel 4.
http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/why-channel-4s-benefits-street-misrepresents-uk-welfare-unemployment-1431345

I found it hugely aggravating. And it occurred to me just the other day, that we are penalising the wrong group of people. Many unpleasant citizens of this country blame foreigners for stealing jobs, my thought is this: shouldn’t we be getting rid of the people who contribute nothing to our society, not necessarily foreigners.

It seems to me, there should be a revision of everyone on benefits in the country, somehow. There should then be call outs to meet those people who have cases where they could debatably be working. After these are reviewed and a number of people are identified as being fully able to find work, perhaps they should be given 12 months to find work and get off benefits, or the money stops completely.

That might sound harsh, but the fact is that if our economy really is struggling, maybe just being born and bred British isn’t enough of a reason to stay. We should all be contributing, as much as we can. In the same way we'd support our family financially, our economy should be treated the same.

Ian Birrell, a columnist for the Guardian spoke up about the number of foreign immigrants who are claiming benefits, in contrast to UK figures:

“As at February 2011, 16.6% of working age UK nationals were claiming a DWP (Department for Work and Pensions) working age benefit compared to 6.6% of working age non-UK nationals.”

By more than double, UK residents are more likely to be on benefits. Yet recently, I’ve seen quite a few articles on media sites about how outraged people were, when an Asian Islamic family were able to move into a large council property. There’s been many like that, targeting people based on religion and origin and not thinking of the bigger picture. It also begs to wonder whether papers like The Daily Mail and The Sun which often display closet racism should be called out and forced to stop. It’s easy to inspire hatred to grow at a certain bunch of people. 

Last November, Cameron was under a lot of pressure to try and cap the number of migrants moving over to the UK, from 240,000 to around 100,000 a year. He submitted his plans eventually to the EU: that in order to enter the UK the immigrants must have a solid job offer. This is likely to be refused by the EU, as one of their main principals is for people to be free to move where they like. 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/immigration/11209234/Immi
gration-from-outside-Europe-cost-120-billion.html

Someone else I spoke to a while ago had an interesting suggestion: give everyone on benefits £10,000 each. Half of them will probably waste it buying televisions and games etc., meaning you get a big shot into the economy, and the other will probably save it and use it to better their lives, and may even get them off benefits. It sounds like a crazy idea, but it might be worth it.

Perhaps, instead of benefit receivers getting money, you give them something undesirable like food coupons and a small amount of money for luxuries. Or, when you sign up for benefits the government pay your rent and a set food plan is delivered and paid for per month, the benefit receivers don't choose the ingredients, unless they have allergies etc. Perhaps it’s a vicious and un humanitarian in approach, but something painful like that might just be the cure to a culture of couch sitters, it would also force people to be healthy. No offence to anyone who does work incredibly hard - these are just ideas I wanted to express.

Food for thought though, eh?

Word count: 746 words

REFERENCES

WEBSITES

Anon. 2014: Benefits Street. Retrieved from: 

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/benefits-street

Anon. 2012: Are migrants less likely than UK Nationals to claim benefits? Retrived from:

        https://fullfact.org/factchecks/ migrants_foreign_nationals_benefits_claim_likely_UK- 27395

Watt, N. 2015: European commission set to reject David Cameron’s migration demands. Retrieved from: 

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/jan/05/european- commission- david- reject-                      cameron-eu-migration

Best New Years Resolution EVAH

Every year I come up with the general: lose weight, tone, chuck pants with holes in, buy a new bra without mum's money, learn to make a quiche, continue to be perfect etc etc new years resolutions. But this year I've picked a wonderful one alongside those, obviously, that I think will be super good. No over exaggeration there, although I think if you're my age and normal you're about to be disappointed and just think I'm lame...

Look away non English students - I'm going to read a book a week, for 52 weeks.

My Italian friend Francesca was saying about when her sister spent ages reading lots of English books and her writing and reading improved loads, which is exactly the same when it's your first language. The more I read, the better I'll write and hey! That's handy because guess what my degree is! And guess what I want to do in life! I don't really know what I want actually...

...Woah. Not opening that door.

You may just be going - Aha! What a fool that Poppy girl is. Such high aims for life and such little talent. Well who'll be laughing when this time next year I'm on a six figure salary and married to Rob Sheehan!!

SO HA!

Just completed my first book anyway, (reading it not writing it), by Caitlin Moran - How To Be a Woman. It was good, all be it with what starts out as a quick haha! I'm a feminist and we should all relax about it! Does sort of turn into a bit of a ferocious attack at some points. I'm right in the nitty gritty of learning about her first period and BAM. She says to me: Do you have a vagina? and I think to myself, yes, yes I'm sure about that one. Then she asks: Do you want to be in charge of it? and I wonder to myself who on earth else would be in charge of it. What a ridiculous idea. It's attached to me, it goes where I do. And I have a lock on my door at university and a granny curtain that stops perverts looking in. Silly Moran.

But besides the silliness it really is a funny book. She's taught me that 'foof' is a great name for your downstairs place and tells me about how great bras are and yay! I'm a woman. All that kind of thing. Perhaps it's because it's aimed at her age group, that her cynicism and sarcasm about ageing is lost on me. I find it often more terrifying and bewildering that at some point I may turn into a middle aged woman: either one who wants to burn her knickers at the government's front door, or worse, my mother. Her descriptions about sagging and child birth do nothing but scare the living daylights out of me.

But haha! It was funny. And there's an amusing story about some maracas. Worth it for that.

Goodnight all!!
Goodnight Rob!!!