Hmph.

OMFG I can't believe how rude and selfish #2 is.

Anyway, back to the foray.

Mmmmm books

I don't know what's wrong with me, why my moods change so much. Last night, on the way home, I felt really positive. I have a job, I've handed in all my work on time, I have a (semi) strategy to resolve how crap I am at Chinese, and things are going swimmingly with my friends, even the friendships I thought I'd fucked up through a combination of drunkenness and stupidity. I was looking at London by night from the top deck of a double decker bus, listening to music, and I thought, hey, this isn't too bad.

P seems to have made a reappearance, which is good. I thought his essay had actually swallowed him up. I kept talking complete gibberish to him, as I'd only had 3 hours sleep (essay) and I was happy to see him. Later on I started ranting on about how crap it is to be a girl, what with the fallings out girls have, and the bitchiness that is on the one hand expected, and on the other hand, completely criticised. I wouldn't want to be a guy either, which I think is quite a destructive tension in my life. I tried to explain this to P but I don't think he understood what I was talking about. Sometimes I just want to talk to (or is that "at"?) him for ever, because he's insightful at the same time as actually being far more innocent than I feel. That probably doesn't make much sense. I'm going to try and stop being such a mentalist all the time. I'm sure he's sick of me crying. (I'm sick of me crying)

Yesterday I actually felt warm for the first time in ages. The Bierodrome in Angel has a fire, and leather armchairs. All that was missing was a cat, curled up, and a tumbler of whiskey, and maybe some comfy slippers and a pipe. I suggested marshmallows but M told me I was americanising the experience. But as L said, he's German and he would probably try and stick sausages on the fire. We were talking about how we want to bring up kids in the countryside. Sometimes I feel so old. Youth of today, etc.

A called me earlier (but I was sleeping). He wants to go for coffee. I've decided to go because I'm civil like that, and cos it's on the way into town, where I'm going to the Oxfam Books and Music in Marylebone. Anyway, otherwise I would just stay in my room all day and cry and listen to German electronica. Yeah, cos I'm cool like that. Why do I feel so miserable? Shoot me please.

My essay is a pile of wank.

Oh crap. I have an essay due tomorrow at 4pm. I've written 600 words, but seeing as at 10am today I'd written nothing, and in between then and now I've been to uni and been to a job interview. Oh, and I cut my hair again. I nearly cut my ear. At uni I was told I looked spruce. Heh. I only look in any way smart when I'm standing still. I fell down the stairs and now I have a limp. My hip is really painful, walking up slopes is tricky, which may mean I have to change my route home, to avoid Kings Cross station.

Jeez, why am I writing this? Like it's interesting. Hmm.

Got the job, I start on Wednesday. Yay for employment.

Oh, and it's official. I have a proper crush on the guy I had the sex dreams about. I saw him today and I was all bashful and it was a bit awkward in a nice way. He told me that I suck and that I'm a loser. But he was joking. I hope he was joking. I told my friend that I like him, in a very obscure way, but I think she's in some way psychic cos she knew. I also confessed to googling him. Hahahahah.

I hate my essay.

My winter "look" is getting a bit boring now, thanks

I keep having sex dreams about this guy I go to uni with. He's really cool. Obviously I haven't told him about the sex dreams. He told me something a while ago and I didn't believe it but I googled it and it's true!! I was very excited.

I haven't even started my essay yet. My main problem with it is that I just don't care.

I've started wearing a blanket in the library as the heating is broken. I look really homeless.

In Soviet Russia, flu will catch you!

Oh man, I am so bored. On Thursday I kind of collapsed at school and then had the journey from hell trying to get home, what with London having fallen in on itself in the wind. #1 made me some lemsip and I stayed up to watch the 10 o'clock news, then went to bed with a hot water bottle. Then I slept until about 5pm today, only waking up to take ibuprofen and to try and actually breathe. Flu is nasty.

Today I have been up and about a little. I went to Sainsbury's to buy the Guardian because they had whale stickers - yay. Watched a film. I tried to smoke a cigarette. I pondered the dream I'd had about a boy I probably shouldn't have been dreaming about, but why did I not realise how cute he was before? I also had a dream about the Pope so I guess I shouldn't read too much into my dreams.

You know those boxes of wine you can get? On Saturday night I stayed in and drank one of those by myself (2 litres, yes). I was remarkably productive and installed some stuff on my computer, had a mass cull of all the music I own but despise, and sorted out 3 drawers worth of junk I'd been carrying around. Then I was sick, really really violently sick, though I'm a seasoned drinker so I made it to the bathroom for that one. Result.

On Sunday/Monday the ongoing text drama continued with him saying "it was a joke" and "I like you" and me asking the girls on my course (who are great, by the way) what I should do, and in the end sitting in the SCR slagging off men.

I went to the ballet. Not the racist ballet (the ENB), I saw the Royal Ballet doing La Sylphide. It was awesome (but I suck at writing about ballet, so maybe I'll attempt it when I feel more well). In the interval, I was practising some hanzi and the man sat next to me asked what I was writing, and I told him it was a critical essay about some Tang dynasty poems. He was very impressed. As I would be if there was even a chance in HELL of me being able to write anything more than the juvenile scribblings I'm currently capable of.

On Tuesday I laughed a lot at my ineptitude, then went to my anthropology class where I sat on the floor and gazed adoringly at my new favourite teacher (he's so cool). Then this woman said the most stupid thing and I involuntarily had a sort of head-desk moment. P has since informed me that EVERYONE noticed, even the people who couldn't actually see me. Look, did I say I had social graces? No, so don't FLAY me for it.

G came to visit and he laughed at my poor taste in men (specifically, he informed me that the boy I maintain is truly beautiful is "nothing special"), and we had a lovely time not really doing very much. The others came home from work the next day and announced that we looked very loved up, and I guess we felt like that a bit cos he nearly missed his train cos we were kissing. Only real bad point was when we were play fighting and my hips got stuck. He said that he would still come and visit even if I was a cripple. Cos I'd still be able to have sex. I asked if he'd still see me even if I couldn't have sex, and he said he would. It's all very sweet, though really, it's meaningless.

I have decided I like computers. I think I would like to know more about computers if only so I could pretend I was clever when in fact I have come SOOOOOO close to stapling my ID card in the stupid automatic stapler thing.

A message I recieved this afternoon

In life we must produce and deal with substantial amounts of bullshit. Part of this process invloves lying, being lied to and tolerating or feigning tolerance for people who, in an ideal world, would be strangled at birth. If you know of an alternative to this perspective please let me know. Otherwise perhaps you could at least pretend you like my friends. I mean if I can do it I'm sure you can. Hope you're well.

This is bollocks, right? Firstly, what the fuck, who are you to tell me how I should act? Secondly, don't be a hypocrite and say YOU can do something when clearly you have TOLD ME that you have done the absolute opposite. Thirdly, what is this sanctimonious attitude?? I'm sorry I didn't like your friends - they were boring. That girl looked a fucking state as well and if I had to draw a picture of desperation, it might look like her (good teeth though). I wasn't rude to her. I did talk to your friends, even the one who was wearing 1980s aerobics clothes. I was civil. But that's as much as you're going to get out of me, especially on a Friday night, especially in Shoreditch, especially considering all the things that don't need to be said.

I don't know. You know, I'm SO SORRY I'm a social retard. You know me, you know how I am. You even pointed out that I change from one thing to another so you damn well do know how it is. If you bought anything I said about how happy I am and how I'm "an amazing human being" then more fool you as I only say that because it's a very very old in-joke and for fuck's sake, open your eyes, is this really a happy face? Yeah, I can be a bitch. So can you. So can everyone.

Anyway, I totally disagree with the whole idea of tolerating people. Why not be around people you actually like? I'm not being paid to talk to these people, it's not WORK godammit. Social niceties are a load of bollocks - why not be nice to nice people and mean to mean people? I'm fucking CIVIL to people I don't like. I would do anything for my friends. I'm not a bad person. Don't castigate me for having opinions that you don't like.

Next Friday I think I'll stay in and do my TAX RETURNS.

Bucket seal is not amused....

Honk if you're lonely tonight

- Wake up Potta! I'm going to see a rapist. Should I take the 37 bus?

Awoken from a bad sleep, I give #1 a hug and lock the door behind her. I contemplate eating something and eventually decide to eat a bread roll. Food has lost all appeal. I haven't eaten carbs properly in about a month. I am well aware that this is a problem but there is nothing I can do about it.

Morning television sucks. I don't know, it just seems like life is a series of cheap shots. I go back to bed, and retrieve my copy of Charlotte Gray from where it has got trapped between the bed and the wall, and try and get lost in the book.

The phone rings. I ignore it. Then I remember my resolution to answer my phone a bit more often. It's #1. She couldn't find the rapist. She comes home and we have coffee. She's angry and sad. I want to help but I don't know what to say. She leaves to go back to work and I wander about in my room, aimlessly picking things up and listening to TV on the Radio.

Yesterday I spoke to G and he laughed at me for being such an alcoholic, though it's not really funny. I told him about P. He laughed at me again, cos he thinks I'm being ridiculous about the whole thing. He says I should be more proactive. "'No' is so negative," he told me. "It's far easier to say 'yes'." I didn't tell him about A, I don't know why.

S thinks it sounds like a fairytale but I think it sounds like yet another fuck up on my behalf.

Last night I got out all my old photos and I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. Today it's not quite so funny and I'm getting tired of feeling so rundown. I can't go back to bed because I have a test tomorrow. I don't want to do the test because I lose at Chinese, but I console myself with the thought that things will get better.

oh christ

Despite the whole no-drinking-in-january idea, I've now completely fucked it up. On Saturday I was meant to be writing my essay, but after the trip to Asda, I decided to have a glass of wine. A bottle later and I'm watching Top Gun on the sofa.

I finally finished the essay and handed it in yesterday (for what it's worth, it's shite). I planned to return my books and then go home and do things like EAT and SLEEP as I hadn't managed either in a while. But I bumped into F so we went to the bar. We discussed singaporean sex. Then D came along, I chatted to French-A and I was getting a bit hyperactive cos it was lovely to see everyone. Anyway, was feeling a bit pissed and thinking about going home and limiting the inevitable social carnage. Then my friend from secondary school, A, turned up, who I haven't seen in six years. It was so cool, he's amazing, and it was so funny reminiscing about everything. Long story short (my head hurts too much to write at the moment), I got very drunk, hung up on G despite him calling to ask how the essay had been (I am a bitch) said god knows what to P (doooooooooooooooooom), asked M if he wanted to come round for dinner, then went to a pub with A and had a fight with his friend and then went home and continued the drunken drivel about spreadsheets this time, and then me and A had sex.

This is despite me saying to F earlier that I couldn't be bothered to have sex cos it involved taking my clothes off.

I have yet more injuries, and managed to lose both my ring and an earring. Plus I completely spazzed up my dad's birthday and possibly my entire life. But I think it would be okay if I knew what the fuck wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf is going on and can I touch you again please?

A very brief update

As S has demanded an update, this will have to do...

My black eye has faded and I'm left with a scab, which I'm trying hard not to pick, cos I'm charming like that. It's still quite sore. I have a cold and I have snot in my ears according to the doctor.

I am in essay purgatory. It's due on Monday, I've written NOTHING and yesterday I had a complete change of heart and decided that I am a post-structuralist and now I am trying to alter my entire essay plan and I'm kind of wishing I'd read more Western philosophy as the crux of my essay seems to be me slating it in its entirity. Err yes. I've read Chinese anthropologists and philosophers though and I'm slating their Western-ness too. I am soooooooooooooooooooooooo SOAS.

So I'm in my room surrounded by papers, listening to Holst. I haven't been sleeping well as I have a cold and can't breathe all that great. We're going to the Asda in Clapham tonight as a break from studying (and cos we only have the car for a little longer and need to stock up on food). I think they're trying to fatten me up cos I've lost so much weight.

I need to go and define footnotes, referencing and bibliography for P. And then try and find the departments essay regulations, like WHERE DO I HAND IT IN and other such related things, which can be summarised by the phrase: WHY IS SOAS SO UNORGANISED? I almost miss Carol Toms (LSE International History bitch of the century).

2007 so far...

Day 1 of 2007

Picture the scene. It's 8 am. I am awoken by a strange noise, which on opening one eye, I see to be my mobile, vibrating on the wooden floor. I ignore G's calls. I try to go back to sleep, but something seems strange. I slowly realise that I am not in my bed. I am on the sofa, with a rug on top of me. I am wearing my pants, some socks (which I clearly put on in the night as I had been wearing tights), and a yellow towel that isn't mine. This seems strange. I get up, as I might as well get a bit warmer, the towel and the rug not quite hitting the spot. I go into my room and find a nightie. I spy an upended glass of water on my bed. I briefly wonder why it's there but decide that these sorts of questions can wait til later. My room is a pig sty. Someone - maybe me, maybe little fairies - has emptied two of the drawers onto the floor. I leave my room before I notice anything else. In the bathroom, I try to take out my contact lenses but I only poke myself in the eye, and in doing so I vaguely recall throwing them on the floor the night before. Speaking of eyes, only one of mine can open. I peer closer into the mirror and see that I have a long red mark across my forehead - some sort of scratch - and a black eye. With blood on it. I go back to the sofa and get the spare duvet, and go back to sleep.

I am as yet uncertain as to how I got the black eye but it's very painful and swollen. I don't appear to have any other injuries, which is unusual as I normally bruise at least one of my limbs on a night out. New years eve was lots of fun with #1, with possibly too much brandy being consumed, plenty of dancing ON A TABLE (oh yes), and ohmigod we called the German a Nazi. I met a very sweet girl who told everyone she was my aunt, then I kissed some random man who I then spent ages ignoring cos I wanted to dance to the Ghostbusters theme tune. My phone informs me that I called P at 2.33 but I have no recollection of this, and he's now not answering my texts.

Day 2 of 2007

Contrary to all my new years resolutions, I have thus far spent the day in bed reading Jane Eyre. I have eaten a Flake and two mini Milky Ways. I have also spent a not inconsiderable amount of time looking at funny pictures of cats. I really need to do some washing.