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.
Wednesday 29 April 2015
Thursday 16 April 2015
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
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
Thursday 9 April 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday 1 April 2015
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.
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.
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