"Why don't you just cheer the hell up?"

This week I have been trying not to spaz out so much. So far I haven't cried at school, although I was very close to walking out of class yesterday. Partly because I felt very uncomfortable, and partly because it was the biggest waste of time. Instead I whinged about it for a good 30 minutes, much to the amusement (?) of some and the visible distress of one girl, who is very nice but I think her niceness may be the main stumbling block. It was seriously a pointless lecture though. I have very little inclination to learn how "post-modernist" and "post-structuralist" as used interchangeably as labels. For a while I was staring into space trying to remember what SB had done for her A-Levels, and it was only when I was telling this story much later that I remembered the subject that had previously escaped me - psychology.

On Monday, F let me cut his hair. I was very nervous (as noted by some people, as they could see my hands shaking - thankfully F didn't hear, and my hands often shake anyway, so I'm fairly used to it) but it turned out okay! The grand event took place in the soas bar. F asked the barman if it was okay, and surprisingly, he said yes. I was a little concerned that it might go horribly wrong and it might be one of those situations where you wish you'd never said anything at all, and especially nothing like "oh, I'll cut your hair!"... Halfway through, I started thinking that I must know a bit how doctors feel, cutting patients and stuff, and that I suddenly had a new understanding of the medical profession, and that maybe I oculd have been a doctor after all as all you need is a smattering of knowledge and a healthy dose of bravado... Thankfully I soon came to my senses and realised that cutting F's hair is NOTHING like when M had to do her first operation and cut that mole of that guy's arm, and that I should shut the fuck up.

Part of me wishes I had done a science degree as I think it would be more useful, and I would really appreciate having tangible answers and facts and general coherance. I think I hate academia. I want to be a scientist. Obviously it's far too late for this, though my psychologist said I would have been a very good scientist if it wasn't for the fact that I have a very poor grasp of basic numeracy.

On Friday I finally went to the Korean restaurant everyone had been talking about. It was nice, but even better was the conversation, which I wouldn't have been averse to continuing forever were it not for the fact that the restaurant closed and so we wandered about and went into a building that looked like the embodiment of the Third Reich. I went home and got very drunk with #1 and #5. #5 went to bed and #1 made me upset and I felt like a bad person. I don't really remember all that much about what happened next. I was woken up the next morning by #5 who started laughing at me as I was lying on top of my bed with the light on, my glasses on and a book clutched in my hand. The glasses are now fucked, as the frame is quite twisted. They have also left a bruise on my face. Still, I take it as a sign of my hardcore status that I went from what was clearly a pitiful wreck to sitting in a restaurant within an hour, reading the weekend papers.

I saw the James Bond film again. I thought it was awesome again. Everyone should go and see it. Daniel Craig (or Craig David, as F keeps calling him) is the sex. Truly, THE SEX. The kind of sex where you break furniture. You know what I mean. After we'd watched that, we went into Chinatown for a big meal. And I mean big. I had a proper pot belly afterwards, which I was alternately proud and ashamed of. I saw some squid in a restaurant window and I now have more questions about squid anatomy than is really necessary.

slight misunderstanding

The other day I was saying to my cousin about how I'm not allowed to go out with brown boys anymore. He suggested I find myself "a nice Hindu boy".

I think that he thinks that I'm a racist now.

Last night I went out with coursemates, which was quite nice. Although I must learn to be nicer. As I was going to the loo, someone shouted my name - my friend from school and his girlfriend! It was so cool to see them, and so completely random. It's the guy I bump into in the most random places. We're going to have a reunion of people from Cambridge sometime before Christmas, which will be cool, although I should get my hair cut before then. Man, I am so shallow.

The other day I was on the tube and I saw my ex boyfriend. I contemplated saying hello but then I realised I was in my gym clothes and so I hid behind a large suitcase.

我来了！

Today, omg omg omg, we won the pub quiz. I was shocked. I thought we'd got about 5 right. Clearly, my faith is lacking somewhat. We won a grand total of £40, which, split 10 ways, doesn't add up to a lot, but still. Pretty impressive. Although I think the fact that we were the largest team and we're MASTERS students probably had something to do with it... Lording it over groups of three eighteen year olds is probably the new vogue. Let's make it so. You're born in 1988? I'm better than you. Yeah.

I can't seem to shake this malaise. People keep asking me if I'm okay. Well, actually, I say "people" when I mean "realistically, not that many people but I'll exaggerate if I want to". I was described as "edgy" today. What does that mean? I find it hard to get out of bed, although the sub-zero conditions in the flat don't make it a lot easier. This morning I wandered about the flat and put off making calls by reading last weekend's Guardian magazine (can you see a recurring theme?) and then frantically typing letters to people using one hand as the other was hidden under the blanket. It's freezing in the flat but I refuse to put the heating on, especially after last winter's £400 gas bill. Nah mate. I'll take hypothermia. At least it's FREE. Anyway, the malaise isn't shifting. I feel really bad. I am so apathetic about everything. Meh (indeed).

The maliaise does lift a little when I get my arse out of the flat and I do slightly more constructive things. I went to the gym today, though I started feeling really weird and a bit panicked. Still, I had my super-cool knitted shorts on. I love those shorts. I don't care that they cost far more than you'd think, per square inch of fabric, or that they're handwash only (it's a lie, I put them in the washing machine and they're fine), or that they're ridiculously warm. I am known for these shorts. These shorts are a part of me. I wear my shorts with pride. Although I suspect I would wear them with even more pride if I were to lose weight. But that would involve kicking my addiction to yoghurt covered raisins. And that, my friends, is an impossibility. To some people, I am known for my "middle-class, guardian reader snacks". It's like the tupperware, LSE library 2005. Me + tupperware = yoghurt covered (I think it was) apricots = good times. Of course, me + Red Bull + Pro Plus + dissertation = spaz times. Good god, I think it's been engrained on my memory. I should probably start work on my dissertation NOW to avoid that. Unfortunately, my general brain-fuck-up, aka dyspraxia, means I can't/won't, and thus the inevitable spaz out will ensue.

After the quiz, we wanted to watch the Bond film again, but it was sold out until the 23:00 showing. I would have been happy with that (it's probably warmer in the cinema than at home) but there was all this talk of night bus booooo, so we didn't. Ice cream was mentioned as a possibility, so we went to Sainsbury's and got ice creams. There's something so satisfying about an ice cream, especially out of season. Things out of season are always great - like indoor picnics cos it's raining outside, or hot food in the summer. There's also something equally nice about wandering about London. I think, armed with a travelcard, it would be completely satisfactory to wander about forever, given the correct company of course. I think my current plans for the future are to wander about - first London, then Hong Kong, then China, then who knows where. I'll occasionally take pictures on my phone and I'll drink lots of tea and have plenty of pairs of fingerless gloves. Sometimes I'll make people laugh and they'll take me out for dinner. Other times I'll have a gourmet meal of lemonade and crackers, or whatever else I fancy. Of course, by then I will have overcome my shyness and will be charming, pretty, thin and witty. I shoudl really stop dreaming about a fantasy existence and get on with my real one. In other words, shut up and do your homework.

"You live in... this??"

Today I woke up feeling really crap. I was kind of stuck into position by the blinding pain in my hips and back. So I lay still and hoped it would go away. Someone opened my door but didn't see me under the blanket. After a while the pain went away and I got really cold, so I put on two jumpers and got back in bed. I woke up 3 hours later really sweaty. This is why I missed uni today, for the first time ever.

Last night there were floods of tears, which wasn't very happy. #1 wants to come to Hong Kong with me for six months, which should be cool. We are going to get the tiniest flat (HK is expensive) and have a curtain seperating our sides of the bedroom. I am clearly going to have to learn how to be a bit tidier before then.

The weekend was HILARIOUS and the new James Bond film is freakin' ace. Went to a gig, spoke German and Chinese with an Italian accent, went to the 12 bar, went to the library, ate lots of Chinese food, wandered around for hours, ate gruel, went to the cinema, wandered around more and then sat on my bedroom floor. That was the weekend. On Sunday I sat vacantly in my room and then had a tantrum and decided to throw away all my belongings. I really miss someone, but I can't say anything to that person. But it's like they are the only person making me cheerful at the moment and I want to tell them everything.

I will NEVER learn.

Although my sense of disillusionment right now is SKY HIGH.

yakshemaaaaash

Rules of karaoke:

1) Just don't
2) If you really must, don't wear a skirt that goes see-through when lights shine behind it
3) If you fail on the first two counts, at least ensure no one videos it

On that basis, marks out of ten for last night: 0 (Britney song, check; skirt, check; camera phone violations, check)

Today has been wholely unproductive as I have spent most of the day in my pyjama's listening to Lady Sovereign. I panicked that I had eaten too many carbs but I think it's okay (one bowl of cereal, one piece of toast), but I'll go to the gym anyway. Also going to see a Tibetan film later so I should probably get dressed and stop thinking I can be a grime star. Or, as was suggested last night, Chinese rock stars (I could sing canto-pop, right? yes?).

Last night was well fun though - we came 3rd in the quiz and won a bottle of wine! Awesome. Then we went to ULU where said karaoke took place. Today I am taking it easy (see above), which means cancelling on R, who I think just wanted to come round and have sex with me anyway. No big loss. I am so over sex. Dying alone doesn't seem like such a bad prospect as even if you're in a relationship, you're only ever this far from being off the team. So quit that smugness, couples, you could be like me soon.

Also, being single is far more conducive to walking around in a blanket and not shaving your legs. Let's face facts.

I wish this was a brief description of recent activities but I fear it is yet more drivel

Today I had acupuncture, which was pretty cool. It felt really funny. I had planned to take a picture of it, but when it actually happened, I thought hmmm, maybe no one will want to see a photo of me with pins sticking out of my bum? And also, my leg was spasming and I had to hold it down. I must have looked a right state. I'm already pretty shaky (cue me, circa Sunday night, deciding to do some sewing and being laughed at by #1) but it just tipped me over the edge, I was like a jelly, and I had to concentrate very hard not to let my leg move too much as I had more pins in my feet. It felt awesome though and I can't wait for next week... although sitting down is a bit uncomfortable, as unsurprisingly, it feels like I have been jabbed in the bum with needles.

At the weekend I met up with an old friend and had a lovely night. We went out (in Croydon) and then when we got back home, the good old antidepressant sickness kicked in and I spent the night puking. On Sunday I crawled home and got into bed, emerging a while later to eat some cereal and then go back to bed, and call my mum. I read last weekend's Guardian Weekend magazine. #1 gave us all dinosaur stickers to put on our bedroom doors, although we had to promise to think up suitable noises for them. I chose the Lambeosaurus (I had to, really!) but I don't have a noise yet. Today in the bar I did some dinosaur noises for people and they kinda looked at me funny. I think I mainly just slept on Sunday though, which is pretty much the last time I slept.

Yesterday was Monday, and I dragged myself into uni for an action-packed lecture, and then went to meet A for lunch. It was lovely to see her. She's so cool. Like, maybe a bit intimidatingly cool and so self-assured and confident. I think if she was someone else, I would be too scared of her... But she's A and I've known her since I was 16 or whatever I was. She said I looked like a pixie. What's with this pixie thing? I'm trying to look like I'm a sensible (okay, that's a lie...), intelligent, cool, something person and everyone thinks I look like a fucking LEPRACHAUN. Anyway, went back to uni, puked, went to class, sat silently, was given pity looks (I saw them, you bastard), and then went to see my dad, who made my printer cartridge work. Woo! It was nice to see him too, although we'd only spoken the day before, so we didn't have a lot to talk about.

We read The Crucible today. It was fun. I was a comatose girl who wasn't really in a coma and tried to jump out of the window. I'm still feeling sick and I am living almost entirely off cereal (and yoghurt covered raisins). I should try and eat vegetables, blah blah blah. I have been told that I have no decorum and that I shouldn't speak/act like such a boy. Which is why I a) still find "Mike Hunt" amusing, b) had a loud and animated discussion about penis size outside uni with people I barely know, and c) I am currently sending text messages about having a wank wearing a Michael Jackson tshirt.

Oh yeah, and drama funding is going tits up. Need to get my arse in gear.

cooler than cooler than cool

So I had a nice quiet night in after a long day studying. Which means I fell asleep under my coat in the postgrad common room and then started drinking. After drinking with SB and her sister, and then the others, I went home and #1 and I had 2 bottles of wine each. We thought there was a fire and I ran down the fire exit to warn the people - dressed in only a blanket - but there was no fire. Then I told her the thing I don't tell ANYONE (that's right, you don't know) and she thought I would be sad but I was like, yeah man, I probably fucking deserved it. So she gave me a hug. We both ended up in tears. But it was a nice night anyway.

In other news, I have cognitive dyspraxia and I am back on antidepressants because I just want to die. Kept that kind of hidden eh? On the plus side, it surpresses your appetite. So maybe I'll lose all that weight I put on.

On a more cheery note, I can do really good dinosaur noises. I am soooooo cool.

Lambeth Council

Lambeth Council are cunts. What's the fucking point in saying that students don't have to pay council tax when it's actually a big fat lie? I actually don't feel at all bad I just told them to fuck off. The moron on the end of the phone (and yeah, I've done customer service before, so I know what it's like) was refusing to accept my point, despite agreeing with each of my points individually. What the fuck am I paying my £28.25 per month for? I am genuinely annoyed.

I don't know where the sun beams end and the starlight begins, it's all a mystery...

I can't figure things out. Either I am being a complete bitch, or... Or... I don't know. Things at the Mansions are really weird. As everyone who's spoken to me in the last month knows only too well, I'm not getting on with #5, aka Lego. None of us are. I've not been at home very much because I can't study here, thanks to her taking over the living room (and my inability to study in such close proximity to my bed... mmmm, sleep...), and also because she winds me up. She asks me constant questions and tries so hard to be nice that it clearly doesn't come naturally to her. I think she'd like us to think she's a nice girl, but I just don't, it's too forced. She's clearly insecure - aren't we all? - but she tries to get round this by acting superior to the rest of us. Her job is more important, her degree... In fact, we're merely plebs and there's no point explaining anything to us because we just wouldn't get it. And this is all fine. I just don't come home, and I avoid rooms that she's in. And this is all fine.

And yet... Today she cried because I'm being so horrible to her. Yesterday we snapped at each other and today she did something of monumental stupidity and #1 had the audacity to say it was a bit silly. I can't figure out whether I'm being unreasonable or what. I just don't know, I'm so entangled in this situation and I feel sick when I hear her walk down the corridor because she makes me feel ashamed of myself, in a way. She's 4 years older than me, but I feel I should set the example. And I'm not. #1 asked me if I thought we should ask her to leave, but we can't do that. I need to grow the hell up and get on with things. But part of me - the stubborn part - says why should I, why should I have to adapt to this, this is my house. I think I'm just not a nice person, because a nice person would be more tolerant and let her have the living room and let her ask questions and let her dictate how everything is done. I feel like a failure for letting it get like this.

I really miss S and I don't know how to sort that situation out either.

I feel utterly miserable. I'm trying to keep really busy. I feel sick and I can't sleep. All my joking around is worth shit because I feel worse than I have in ages.

Note to self

These are some of the reasons I am really lame:

- I am wearing a hat that I know everyone laughs at but it's at a jaunty angle so that makes it okay in my mind
- I dance on the tube to Nelly Furtado
- I call people far too many times generally just pestering them with questions like "what are you doing today" and "do you think I should I call him" and "do you think he likes me"
- I just downloaded the Ghostbusters theme tune
- I'm generally offensive because either I just don't know how to be nice, or the idea of it scares the hell out of me
- I race people on the cross trainers at the gym

L-O-S-E-R.

Also, wo dann ist der Bahnhof?

I forgot to mention, apparently one of my legs is shorter than the other one. As in, I am Forrest Gump.

Today at work I keep laughing out loud at something I was told yesterday - "You know what the reason there are so many paedophiles nowadays, don't you? Sexy kids!" I know it's wrong and I know it doesn't make me a lady, but nor does sitting in the JCR and having a poll to determine who'd had the worst sex (which turned out to be as no one else had been puked on, though my (male) friend did fake an orgasm once). Not only am I not going to get the boy I kinda like to like me back, but I am going to die alone. My friend's advice is to go for stupid men; my own carefully formulated plan is to get myself an Asian girlfriend and use her as bait. This is probably part of the reason I am going to die alone.

But before I die I am going to buy myself a PDA and use that instead of my Singapore Ministry of Education dictionary. Nod to modernity and all that.

It's like, say there are two thumbs...

Earlier this evening I got a voicemail message from G saying "Call me back, dammit, this is important!" My phone was dead so I retrieved his number from the depths of my mind (how? I'm innumerate?!?) and found a payphone, then realised I had no change, so found one that accepted cards...

G: Hello?
Me: It's me... Are you okay?
G: Oh hello. Why are you calling from an 0845 number?
Me: Payphone, mobile is dead... What's up?
G: What?
Me: Your voicemail. Important. Is everything okay?
G: Oh yeah, I was just calling to tell you that the Borat film is out now.
Me: You called to say that? You PANICKED me to say that?
G: Well, it is important!
Me: I hate you.

Yesterday Flat Dragon got drunk and I laughed so hard I thought I might be sick. Got 10/20 on the quiz but have a dilemma that can't be solved. This morning I saw a man wearing a jacket made out of beermats. Photos of both to follow...

I'm fucking KNACKERED and my plans for an early night fucked up again. Where I'm working only has decaff coffee so I might whip out the old Pro Plus if I'm going to attempt to be coherent at Friday Night Dinner With The Geordies (it deserves capitalisation). Howay pet.