Saturday, December 03, 2011

what a lonely life

There's only one word I can adequately use at the moment to describe my life, and that is lonely. I am so incredibly lonely (violins please). Picture the scene: it's Wednesday and I wake up and wonder what to do with my day. I watch 12 episodes of Pretty Little Liars (epic by the way) and then I meet my one friend (whose actually around) for a drink where all I basically talk about is my lost love and the resulting loneliness. Then it's Thursday. I don't even bother getting out of bed. After eventually getting up I spend the afternoon shopping... by myself. I then see my parents. A bit of face to face contact... good... but let's face it, an evening of only allowing my mature side to show while, you've guessed it, moaning about how lonely I am. Friday. Another 12 episodes of Pretty Little Liars, followed by Death in Paradise, followed by Russell Howard's Good News, followed by World's Strictest Parents (getting desperate now), followed by... well you get the picture. All of this while eating the entire contents of my kitchen cupboard. Oh and I entertained myself with an outing to Asda. I didn't know whether to be annoyed at the woman asking me if Quorn meatballs taste nice or whether to be pleased someone was actually talking to me not through a computer screen. Saturday. By this point I'm not even sure what day it is anymore. Watched more TV, played Tetris for about 3 hours, resorted to writing my essay. And guess what I've got planned for tomorrow... nothing.

I am bored. I am lonely. I am fed up of this term. And I am sick to my stomach everyday because my 'special someone' is a million miles away, watching TV, eating dinner and drinking wine with someone else. I am officially a completely pathetic case.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

i really hate to let this moment go... touching your skin and your hair falling slowwhen a goodbye kiss, feels like this...
don't you wanna stay here a little whiledon't you wanna hold each other tightdon't you wanna fall asleep with me tonightdon't you wanna stay here a little whilewe can make forever feel this waydon't you wanna stay
lets take it slow i don't want to move to fast, i don't wanna just make love, i wanna make love lastwhen you're up this high, it's a sad goodbye
-Jason Aldean

Friday, November 04, 2011

Monday, October 31, 2011

mandatory rant and rave

It always seems impossible until it's done (Nelson Mandela)
Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish (John Quincy Adams)


You may wonder why I am spouting cheesy quotes about persevering. Well wonder no longer as I will tell you. So, this blog has got many posts about exams, all along the lines of "help, I'm gonna fail blah blah" followed by "oh I passed" but that, my dear friend, was my dramatic undergraduate self, before I gained self assurance in my academic abilities. Or not. Because this post is once again along the lines of "help, I'm gonna fail blah blah" but as I am not afflicted with the soul destroying nuisances they call exams, I am instead fearing for the worst about my first assignment.
Four days, four fooking days I have been confined within the walls of my room, staring at the same damn word document about the same bloody article. Which is where the quotes come in. Surviving on a diet of chips, barely any human interaction, inanely playing Tetris in procrastination... I am going insane. So I thought I'd encourage myself with kind words about persevering blah blah.
I'm now at that point where everything pisses me off, especially when my flatmates throw a party on Friday night (which they forgot to actually invite me to) which involved what seemed like hundreds of foreign men dressed in Halloween costumes shouting until 1.30am, and the extinction of the internet as some drunken dumbass messes with the router.
Of course, it doesn't get any better. Tomorrow I may have the joy of leaving the house, but for 5 hours of lectures. Only to come back to this prison for another dose of essay writing hell.
Still, I won't complain too long as it's all fun and games from Wednesday. If this deed is ever completed which at my rate of working I fear I will never see the light at the end of the tunnel.

So, there you go. The mandatory post where I rant and rave about another stupid education hurdle I am jumping through before I can leave the student world and become a fully fledged adult. Don't worry though, it shouldn't be too long before I write about how wonderful life is to have completed the task.

Endnote: in case you worried I had resorted to murdering my inconsiderate, mean and boring flatmates, don't worry, I only resorted to stealing their milk (which most students will agree is a far worse sin).

Friday, October 28, 2011

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Friday, October 21, 2011

basically wiped sobriety off the map

So one cocktail turned to 5, and the white walls of my bathroom turned to pink as I decorated them with my vomit. Not to mention that I am now purple with bruises after causing an earthquake aftermath scene in my room just trying to get the 2 metres from my toilet to my bed. It's one of those mornings when you have a good memory of the events the night before, but actually wish that you didn't. I have not yet managed to locate where I put my contact lenses last night, assuming I managed a semi orderly attempt at removing them and putting them in their case, so I am basically blind and still not quite fully clothed but nevertheless thought I'd blog, because a) i'm probably still a bit drunk and b) i no longer have my housemates to analyse every second of the night before with and it's no fun when you can't share your drunken antics with the world.

Anyway, I had 5 hours of uni yesterday (boo!) followed by a 2 hour long coffee at Neros, followed by above mentioned antics. This concept of being busy all the time is still a bit foreign to me but I'm surviving, just about.

This week is a busy visitors week, Jess followed by Claire and Andy and then Mum and Rachel. Basically that reads as a lot of wine and a lot of food and a lot of oohs and aahs as I show off my sexy halls bedroom. Which unfortunately means I have to make a start on cleaning up all the snotty tissues (I am afflicted with a cold), all the belongings of mine that I sent flying across the room last night, and of course all the sick that is now splattered across everything. I'll start as soon as I have fully regained consciousness...

Sunday, October 16, 2011

how the hell does an iron work?

In an attempt to continue the momentum of my rekindled blogging habit I thought I'd write today even though nothing of any interest (well, nothing mentionable) has happened since I last wrote, and we're due to lose internet connection any day now, so before I am cut off into the abyss they call reality, I figured I would make the most of my time in cyberspace.

I went to a new church today. For the first 2 weeks of term I went to a church which was ideal really; lots of students, comfy seats (very important) and a free lunch at the end. But, they say no church is perfect and I didn't really have to look very far to discover an imperfection that was too big to ignore... You see, I really don't mind churches that are stuck in the 90's with their worship music, but ones which still sing old songs about 'ye thy dynamic spirit' and other sentences that make little sense to my modernised head just seem on a different planet where their definition of boredom is different to mine. I went for two weeks to see if there was much difference but when the vicar introduced the first song on my second week as a treasure from the 6th century I basically ran a mile. Apparently, singing newer songs would 'upset the older people in the church' which is total bull as I have seen St Peters do an amazing job of transitioning from the medieval ages into modern times. I did try and ask the vicar about it but got a pretty sharp response, and one which showed that he had absolutely no interest what so ever in whether some student that's walked in off the street likes the music or not. So long story short, the worship was bad enough (from my point of view) but the attitude of the vicar was even worse.

So this week I went to a church with very few students, very uncomfortable pews, but one with worship led by people who didn't look like they were in a coma. The songs were new (some so new I hadn't even heard them yet which for me is a rare occurrence), and I got a lovely lunch with lovely people afterwards who didn't look at me like I had 6 heads when a concern was raised.

So definitely trying that one out again.

In the afternoon I took a stroll along the canal that runs from the middle of nowhere, through Warwick and Leamington, and then into the middle of nowhere again. I enjoyed lovely views, great company, sunshine, and most importantly the feeling of freedom. Stretching my little legs beyond the bus stop was pretty satisfying. 3 hours of blissfulness. Yum.

So that was today, not exactly one of my wittiest blog posts but some info for those who may be interested in how the church search is going.

In other news, I tried to iron something today and basically after 15 mins of wondering how the hell an iron works I sort of half ironed something. Another one for the domestic goddess CV, although perhaps more impressive is how I've managed to avoid using an iron for 22 years.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

back to blogging


Having basically started my life again from scratch last month, I’ve found myself with a lot more time for the things I enjoy doing. Namely, strumming my guitar hoping it wont lead to any angry death threats from ear assaulted neighbours, creating ultimate mess in my room by exposing the contents of my craft box to my chaotic hands, and as of right this moment, blogging.

In the space of two weeks I’ve managed to detach myself from my ultimately messy life as things have sort of just fallen into place quite perfectly. The repercussions for this humble blog of mine is a total change in tone. Yes, you all who know me and know of my inability to outgrow my teenage angst, I warn you I may express positive emotions and thoughts. Try not to die of shock. Disclaimer done.

So, I guess a quick outline… I am now at Warwick university doing a post grad in Social Work. Which makes this blog read a bit like a story with the most predictable ending. I’d like to quickly interject here to say that being a ‘postgrad’ is like being a nun. Not because of the lack of rock and roll lifestyle (ok, so partly because of that), but more for the fact it carries a certain status, followed by the ability to evoke a common reaction from people. “Hello my name is Fi I’m a postgrad” usually follows with a look of disbelief/respect/interest from the person on the receiving end of my inadvertently juicy confession. So I’m a postgrad and now I’m actually doing a real degree, with real hours, real reading and real prospects (here is where I get killed by my fellow undergraduate psychology students, but hey, I’m a postgrad and I will enjoy the mandatory cockiness such as that we always expressed at people doing their A-Levels “oh my gorsh, as if they could dare to complain that their a-levels are hard, don’t they know what us poor undergraduate lazy sods have to go through”).

For anyone who may read this and be interested: I BLOODY LOVE MY LIFE. Not to boast but I’ve never been one to majorly ‘enjoy’ life. I think ‘endure’ was more the word I’d use. But now I am quite literally having the time of my life. My course is everything I’ve ever wanted to dedicate my time to doing, the people on my course are friendly, like minded to myself, and all quite frankly really interesting people. My room in halls is adequate, and like living in luxury after the evils of Tapton in my first year at Sheffield. I have found people who can tolerate my slightly strange nature enough to actually spend time with me, we received our bursaries this week which basically makes me rich (in student terms), I’ve refounded my organizational side and thus I am almost a normal person again instead of being an airheaded student residing in squalor which pretty much sums my former undergraduate self.  Everything just feels very in control and ’neat’ and I feel less like I’m riding on the edge of the wave just waiting to drown in the shit surrounding me. That said, I’m almost scared to admit I’m happy for fear of the inevitable downturn of events but I think one of the things I’ve learnt this past summer is that not allowing yourself to be happy for fear of being unhappy again is the stupidest thing basically ever.

So, this is it really. I won’t go on with a million anecdotes from the past 2 weeks,  there have been a few special moments (in both senses of the word) but things that probably wouldn’t really interest anyone except my mum.

Happy Fi :)

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

one thousand three hundred and ninety two words and two hundred and thirty three pounds and five pence.

Being the youngest of four children I've always been aware of this looming hazard they name "dissertation". It's a good thing actually because I've always imagined it to be some big, scary, grown up thing, almost a rite of passage into adulthood. Yet although it is bigger, scarier and more grown up than any uni work so far, it's just the top rung of the ladder and through my 2 and a half years at uni I have climbed most the way already (look at me all positive thinking!). So there's 2.5 weeks til it's due in and I've still got 90% left to write. Worried, me... never...

So Monday I'll be getting my exam results. This time they won't be rudely interrupting my summer in the sun in Thailand as they did last time. No, they'll just be rudely interrupting my last minute attempts to scrawl out above mentioned monster. Which means if they're bad, I'll have to try very hard to hold onto any motivation to finish. Luckily for me, I need a 2:2 to get onto my course next year and I'd be surprised if I didn't manage to pull that out of the bag, despite my American TV marathons on the night before said exams.

Onto more exciting things, or should I say, motivation to keep going... I'm going to Paris in April. I don't speak a word of french but I do know I like croissants and pain au chocolats so I figure it can only be a good thing.

1 dissertation, 1 essay, 1 assignment, and 4 exams. Until the end of my psychology undergraduate degree. I'm ticking them off one by one...