NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh god.
I must try and fight the urge to throw up everytime I find out something bad.
Seriously, the WORST thing has happened.

I'm sure I'll calm down in a while, but for now I'm just in shock because I never EVER thought this would happen, and also I'd kinda counted on it NEVER happening, and now it has.

Aaaargh and it's eclipsed all my good news, boooo :(

Must. Do. More. Essay. And. Less. Of. The. Panic.

貌合神离

Currently I am thinking about dropping out of uni.

Though apparently I will have to find £57 to pay a library fine before I do that. How did I get a £57 fine? It's all this one stupid little book, which doesn't even have 57 fucking pages. And of course, I haven't read it, bar the introduction, which I thought was interesting but inherently occidentalist.

I'm going to have to stop using long words and quasi-constructs if I'm going to quit uni.

I'm feeling disheartened with everything at the moment really. I went to SOAS after work and it was all weird. I don't belong there at all. Everyone was standing around playing pool, or watching people play pool. I have no interest in that - I used to do that when I was 17, and we'd skive off classes and go to WT's and drink lager. Maybe it's a rite of passage you have to go through, and in the UK you just go through it earlier, by necessity. I don't know. I find the attitude all wrong, as the boys - and it's always the boys who are playing - have some low-level sexism going on. It's very patronising, not to mention boring. Plus, some of the people who were playing were people who I tend to try and have as little to do with as possible. So it irked a little that I was spending time with them. There was something else that was weird too - a very strange dynamic that I couldn't quite place.

After work something else odd happened as well, involving me and a girl who has been trying her best to demonstrate to me just how little she likes me. Yesterday she really took the piss, and she needs to take herself, her attitude and her over-inflated sense of self and fuck right off.

I need to try and write things now. Tonight #1 and I are going out for dinner, and then to the cinema. It's going to be awesome :) But I need to make sure I've been productive between now and then, so I can really enjoy myself tonight. I haven't been to the cinema in AGES, so I'm very excited - and there's no one I'd rather go with than #1.

1 to the 2 to the 3 to the 4, limehouse police knocking at my door

I'm facing facts about my essay/degree - it's kinda fucked. But that's okay, I'm going to the disabilities office on Monday and I will tell Z everything that has happened, and it will all be okay.

Thing is, and I know this sounds ridiculous, I know I have profound thoughts about things, and I know that my views aren't stupid. I just can't face putting them onto paper. I don't want to commit. I've always been like that, not making that final effort in case it goes wrong, or deliberately sabotaging things when they're going a bit too well for me to be comfortable.

I'm such a loser - I have commitment issues with my ESSAYS.

nostalgeeeeeaaaaaaah

I was just thinking about how much I miss Lul. I haven't seen her in soooooooo long, since I guess when she woke me up at 5am to say bye, in Norway. I still owe her a pair of jeans, though they're the ones I have to wear under a dress cos they keep falling down.

Once Lul was convinced that the Chemical Brothers had subliminal messages in their songs. This is why I love Lul. And that she taped up the holes on her Silk Cuts.

veto veto veto YOU

I am veto-ing this essay. I have written nothing, I have the inclination to write even less. I missed my appointment with my supervisor today, which is really crap because a) I kind of need to see him about my dissertation of doom, and b) I have a really illadvised crush on him. Okay, yeah yeah, you shouldn't fancy your teachers, but he's really lovely and we agree on loads of anthropological things and I just kind of trust him... However he thinks I'm an odd girl, cos I was so tongue tied for half of our last meeting, and then I decided to tell him that I'm bulimic. Why did I think he'd want to hear that? I figure SOAS is much cooler than LSE, the teachers are so much more chilled. Needless to say, I didn't fancy any of my LSE teachers (even though Alan Sked spent 3 years trying to have a threesome with me and my ex), except maybe my historiography teacher, but then, only a little, because his hobby was making figurines of battles. Seriously, I googled him and he has a whole website about it. Legend. Come on, everyone has to fancy their teacher at some point. It's the whole power thing - it must be, or why else did everyone fancy that fucking bitch of a woman (the one who said "one day, I'm sure you'll find something you're good at" JUST BEFORE MY FINALS)

In summary, screw the essay. Veto it (that's only really funny if you're in my politics class).

Today I was a really, really nice girl. I went to Kings Hospital for someone else and pretended it was for me. Although that could raise slight moral problems, as my "nice" act involved lying to the NHS, I wouldn't consider it in any way immoral. It's the tip of the iceberg of what I would do for that girl. Sometimes I wonder if anyone would do the same for me - which I know is a really terrible and selfish thing to think - because I would seriously do anything for the people I care about, and yet - I don't know - and yet I'm sat here by myself trying to convince myself not to do all the things that I do (the bad things). I'm going to fail my exams. I didn't do my essay today because I got up really early to go to the hospital, and then have been too tired and anxious all day. I think I try to justify my existence by doing good deeds, which is a fairly good indicator of how little I think of myself.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty chirpy, what with seeing everyone and all that. I do really like everyone at SOAS, and it's such an awesome feeling to get to school and have people say "I've missed you so much, let me kiss you!" and stuff like that. Loads of the people who couldn't come to my birthday were around, which was lovely. I went for a pint with D, who was calling me a filthy heterosexual. I wish I'd made more time for him this year, he's a very very interesting guy and one day we will be the hottest academics in the whole country :) And then I'll exploit the power relations in the opposite direction and snare me some 18 years olds. Then of course THE INCIDENTS last night were pretty hilarious. I tenuously made up with G, though I didn't believe a word he said. Come on, the boy's a compulsive liar. So I lied and said that I'd got given a car for my birthday, but I wouldn't drive over to see him cos I didn't like his house or his face. I can't believe earlier in this post I was talking about how I was a nice girl.

I just can't help feeling like I'm being abandoned. When SOAS is over, everyone will leave for all over the world and I am worried that no one will keep in touch, with me at least.

All I ever do is complain eh.

I'd rather be in the pub.

An hour later, #1 came into my room to look for condoms. Then just now #2 came to get some. Two observations:

1) I should maybe set up my own pharmacy at this rate
2) They are quite literally shagging me out of house and home.

Boris Yeltsin has died, but to be honest I was always more of a Gorbachev girl anyway.

hammerzeit

Last night was my birthday curry and drinks - it was really, really fun! I was so chuffed so many people came out, and everyone seemed to have fun. On the way there I had a minor panic attack and couldn't stop shaking because I was so worried. I don't understand myself. #1 was trying to calm me down, but I wanted to cancel the whole thing. I'm glad I didn't though, cos it was all cool. There were no fights (quite surprising given that a lot of my friends hadn't met each other and I'd probably bitched about them all to each other - kidding) and amazingly, we all fitted in the "VIP room" of the restaurant.

Anyway, I'm a bit of a twat on my birthday. This is a fact. I get it into my head that everybody should love me. I guess it wasn't helped by A repeatedly telling me how hot I was. The good news is that I seem to be getting to be less of a twat as I get older. Anyone remembering my birthday last year will recall that I burst into tears, spilt wine over myself and threw up. Niiiiiice. So yeah, big improvement this year. I also felt much more comfortable because I knew that everyone was there because they liked me, not because they had been invited by my exboyfriend, in a kind of mutual mental masturbatory session (I don't mean that to sound harsh - it's the truth).

Of course, it wasn't just my birthday - it was SB's as well. I'm so glad that now we get to spend lots of time together. It's odd how she was literally the first person I spoke to when we started sixth form, and we're still friends. I was really annoyed that I forgot her present. It's fucking awesome, in a totally childish way (despite the fact that we're "hurtling ever nearer to thirty").

I'm quite impressed that I have waited til this late in this entry to say what I will say next (see how grownup and mature I am?). Now I don't really know what to write. I kissed a boy who makes my insides feel like jelly. It's at once a great feeling, and a disconcerting one - I don't like feeling like I'm not in control, but all I want to do is kiss him.

Also... it's probably fairly obvious to anyone reading this that I self harm. Or at least, that I used to self harm and that I started again about three months ago. Last night was the first time ANYONE has seen me naked since then, and thus seen the 'evidence'. Come on, during the play why do you think I got changed over near the guys (it was dark and no one could see). Why do you think, when I was ill, I wouldn't let anyone in the room (I was wearing shorts and was too ill to get up and put on trousers). I know I'm a mess, it's a fucking joke that at the age of 23 I still believe that this is in any way a good thing to do. I feel absolutely fucking AWFUL that K had to see that last night. I feel sick to my stomach. I promise you that this is it, this is the extent of it. Please don't think I'm crazy. I'm not, I just have this one thing, that's it.

I'm alright though, everything's under control, and actually, I'm pretty happy. I had an awesome time last night. I've got a sweet potato with coriander for dinner tonight. I've got a CD of Serge Gainsbourg. I'm going to go and find out how to say "stop - hammertime" in Chinese now (can you hear the sweet sound of PROCRASTINATION??).

joyeux anniv....

Wow so I'm 23 eh... Yesterday was my birthday. I was woken up by #1 throwing balloons on me, and I jumped out of bed feeling considerably more perky than I had done the night before, when I got into #1's bed, feeling very sad indeed. She'd bought me loads of goodies to eat - chocolate cake and strawberries :)

Went off to work, busied myself with doing sales leads (dullness-times-a-million). M, aka "picasso-potato" wished me "warm wishes" for my birthday and although I tried to control the involuntary shuddering, I couldn't help it. I got to chat to SS a lot more than usual, which was really nice. He's probably the nicest boss you could ever have. He's fair and he's really fun. Plus I like him a lot, we agree on a lot of things (including the new Rihanna song). I think if it wasn't for him and K, I would hate work. Whereas I feel that if I get my work done, I'm actually rewarded for it - whether by having a laugh or doing the stationery order (I am a strangely big fan of the stationery order). That makes it sound really lame. It's not lame at all. My job could be utter shit if the people were all awful - like M, as a prime example - but as it is, I like being there (up to a certain point, which I'll get onto in a bit).

I made a complete tit of myself when I was given a cake (normally I am the one who carries the cake so it was very interesting to be on the receiving end of it!). Apparently I didn't go too red, but I am sure I sounded like a fool. When I was trying to cut the cake, my hand was shaking so much. I hate that my hand shakes. I think it's my medication but it gets far worse whenever I have any pressure or anxiety - hence why when I had that argument with crazy-ayatollah-wannabe housemate, I turned into a lump of jelly. It was so sweet though to get a card, present and cake from everybody.

One of the other people at work had already arranged that we would go to the Fitzroy after work, so we all headed over there (en route I had a very strange conversation with my mum). To be honest, it was quite disappointing. #1 was there, which I was very happy with. A lot of people ignored me. I find it very odd how people can write "lots of love" in a card and then completely ignore me in the pub. That's not to say that the people I would consider to be my friends at work weren't nice. Some other people who I don't even know very well were very sweet and I must try to be less of a social retard when I see them next week (I am completely socially inept). But it's very odd. The pub was packed, so me, #1 and D sat outside the pub and drank wine, but in the end we got too cold and left, and went to an O'Neills. It was so much nicer, and I was glad to be with just #1 and D, who I don't know all that well, but I think is lovely.

I think I've written far more than enough about work now. After we left the pub, #1 and I stood underneath S's window and shouted her name until she came down and let us in, and we drank tea and ate twix bars. S is an amazing girl and I only wish she would recognise it.

On the way home, the train was delayed at Victoria station so we went to get the tube. We suddenly heard "Can Inspector Sands please come to the control room!" on the tannoy. 'Inspector Sands' is the London Underground's code for EMERGENCY, and whether it's meant to be a secret or not, I don't know, because we both knew about it. The staff said there was a fire and the whole station got evacuated, but there wasn't a fire - there was no fire brigade. There was a screen at ground level that showed what was happening on the platform, and we could see police, a lone man, and no trains stopping. Then a fucking BIRD did a SHIT on my jacket. It was strangely comical. Over an hour later, we finally got a train and back to the hood we went.

When we got home, we drank wine and I accidentally made #1 cry. Then I had an argument with G. Then I did something stupid. Then I fell asleep listening to my mp3 player.

Yeah your mum called, she said you're adopted.

Two choice conversations at work yesterday:

K - You remind me a little bit of Mr Darcy, you know.
M - Is it because you like to think of me naked frolicking in a pond?
K - Ewwww. What a mental image. Urgh. No!!
M - . . . .

Later on....

M - What's the name of that actress??
everyone ignores M
M - You know, the really famous one?
laughter from everyone (the AT not WITH kind)
M - She was in "Becoming Jane"
K - Becoming Jane? That's what I call you sometimes.
M - I've never heard you say that!
K - Yeah well that's because I don't say it loud enough so you can hear.

Seriously, you try working with M - "he's got a face like a Picasso painting - his features are all in the wrong place!"

After work I went to the library. It was actually a lot of fun. Me and S spent ages discussing orientalism and occidentalism and whether it could therefore be said that there's a prediliction in human nature to define oneself through opposition to a definable binary opposite (answer: too long to explain at 8:30am, though in summary, when it leads to racism then it's a bad thing). It was far more fun than it should have been to be in the disabilities room with no shoes on, writing ideas about universality on the whiteboard.

Half the time, when I speak, I think I'm a fucking AMAZING human being. The rest of the time, I hear myself and I think, what a cunt.

Off to hospital today, so no work. By the end of the day I need to have written (or at least started) my essay but at the moment I am far too confused by endless conditional parity progression tables, and would rather stay at home and listen to silly music... hello Rihanna and Jay-Z, goodbye remnants of degree...

Fuck you, Justin Timberlake, with your improbably catchy song.

Today was my first day doing normal "real world" things again. You know the sort, getting dressed and going outside. However now I feel like shit. My stomach is clearly not right - I suspect it might be IBS, which is always really pleasant. And now I have a headache that feels like my head might fall off. It's not the normal headache I get, in the middle of my head (the ridged bit that swells up really easily). Instead it's like my whole head is stuck in a very tight vice.

I'm pissed off because I don't have time to be ill again. I didn't have time last week and now I especially don't have time because I have these two essays to do and no time left to do them in. I kind of know what my argument is - in fact I think I'm quite sorted on that - it's just that I have to wade through a few books and about a hundred journal articles to get all the information I need. My mum and brother came to visit the other day and brought me some of my old folders, and looking through my Econ folder makes me sad. That was a 3rd year Econ course that I did in 2nd year, with no economics background, and I did really well. Why didn't I continue with that? Maybe I like growth patterns? Maybe I like drawing little graphs that find Harberger's triangle? So why, please tell me WHY am I doing goddamm international relations (which I have never found all that exciting)? And for the love of god, what made me think that doing language exams again would be a good idea? Did I learn nothing from the Bain Of My Existence, aka A Level German? I think we all know I should stick to what I am good at. Which appears to be Cold War Economics, but this is now BESIDE THE POINT.

Don't get me wrong, I love anthropology. I just had a bit of hissy fit cos yet another book had the names written the old way, not in pinyin. I can't connect the two, maybe it's my dyspraxia or whatever, but I have to translate it into Chinese and then back to English to figure it out. You'd think Ch'-ing = Qing would be easy but no. When I rule the world I will get all the old books reprinted so I can read them.

It's not helping that I have burst into tears at least three times today. I am such a loser. I can't stop crying ALL THE TIME. I'm having to wear less eyeliner because of this. I mean, seriously.

All I've done is complain in this post, which is a shame cos I had some nice/important things to write. Instead I'm going to get in bed and cry until I fall asleep.

This is a post all about vomiting. Just so you know.

On Wednesday morning, about 2am, and I woke up, walked to the bathroom in a haze and threw up. Then I brushed my teeth and went back to bed. This isn't that weird for me. At about 5.30am I woke up again and had to seriously RUN to the bathroom, where I threw up more. I had a pain in my stomach like I was being stabbed from the inside, and I got back into bed, crying. I hid from my housemates and shouted at #1's boyfriend when he offered to make me tea. I tried to sleep but everything hurt too much.

By about 11am, everyone had left. By this point I had vomited everything I'd eaten in the previous two days. I'd tried to sleep on the bathroom floor. My stomach hurt so much that I thought my appendix had burst. I'd tried to sleep on the sofa because it's darker in there, before going back to my bed. I knew I was getting dehydrated so I was trying to drink water. At this point I threw up ALL OVER MY BED. I ran to the bathroom, where I threw up on my leg. Truly disgusting.

In a moment of lucidity I stripped my bed, then got out the spare mattress in the living room, which, being hospital surplus, is wipeable. I got a bucket and put it next to this new bed. I spent the next two days in this bed, occasionally getting up to throw up either water or small amounts of dry toast. I also probably spent a lot of time crying and moaning in my sleep. I dunno. I slept a lot. My head hurt so when I got up I had to put my invalid hat on.

Three thoughts occured to me during one of my more surreal vomiting episodes:
1) Isn't your food only meant to stay in your stomach for 3 hours?? I know I have a love/hate relationship with my digestive system at the best of times, but am I keeping food in my stomach for 2 days? That's surely wrong.
2) Throwing up only water is strangely satisfying.
3) Man, I never realised bile was so YELLOW.

Anyway, I went to the doctor and she said I had gastroenteritis.

This is what is said on the hospital bed:

Pressure sores. Nice.

I don't think I can stop crying. Someone has written the nicest thing about me, and since I read it I have been weeping in my room and ignoring the banging on the door.

I am such a crap person for not noticing what was going on and for being so absorbed in my own world. There are far more important things than me, or what I think, yet somehow I think every attack is directed at me and I have this overinflated sense of self. When really, if I opened my eyes, I would see that there is far more going on, of far more worth, than the bullshit I have in my emo little life. I'm such a fucking idiot.

I don't think I can say sorry enough. But I'm really sorry for not being there - mentally as well as physically - and for being so blind as to everything in the world.

My god I am so far off an adult. I can't believe anyone ever takes advice from me.

And screw these essays.

Note to self

I'm really saying "oooooh yeaaaah" a bit too much.

If French is the language of love, Spanish is the language of lust.

Today I'm feeling quite chirpy really. My back is sunburnt but it doesn't hurt too much cos I've put lots of cream on it. Everyone was shocked at how red I was - I'm like, I'm IRISH, this is our natural colour! Anyway, yesterday was awesome. I love summer in London. I can still do handstands - woohoo - but after literally FOUR, I got shooting pains up my arms (hello, tendonitis!) and had to stop. My body hates me. It's basically an ill-formed, bright red CALAMITY.

Now I'm at home fooling myself that I might do some work, but instead I'm facebooking and listening to music (all of which I hate... I need new music) and trying to decide whether learning the words to "My Way" in Spanish would be a COMPLETE waste of time. I'm also getting really pissed off with the amount of flies in my room. I reckon it's cos of the skips outside, but it's so annoying. My room is not a fly sanctuary for fuck's sake. I am swatting them with a rounders bat, oooooh yeah.

Yeah, well just watch out you don't end up in a bath of sand.

Four day weekend ooooooh yeeeeeeaaaaaah. And it's warm. And we're going to Hampstead Heath and I'm going to go in the ponds. And loads of other cool stuff is happening this weekend.

The night before last I watched "Ultimate Boy Party" and so spent quite a lot of time at work yesterday slapping my face. Then we got worried that maybe the really sweet Chinese girl who sits next to me is disgusted by all our talk of gay porn. I can only console myself with the thought that I'm a gora and therefore morally suspect from the beginning. No respect, etc. Anyway, work descended into marshmallow throwing, and chump-face (irritating boy opposite me) came up with some bullshit idea about eco-forfeits or something. I have found that putting in my headphones when he starts talking is quite effective, even if my mp3 player isn't on. It's a psychological thing. He's just such an awful person - and such a misogynist. I can't wait until he leaves to join his crappy accountancy firm. Maybe then he'll find people he can actually respect (just as long as they fit his blinkered world view of who is superior to him etc).

Anyway, after work I went to Zhao Laoshi's birthday. It was full of journalists - and my teacher, who studiously ignored me. It was a bit weird actually, the whole situation. P was being a bit funny with me - again - and only seemed to act like he didn't think I was the most annoying person he knew when he was talking to someone else who he clearly thought was even MORE boring than me. I'm getting a bit tired of all these silly games. When I told him about my birthday, he sort of laughed at me. Now, okay, maybe I overanalyse... but why would I try and see that in someone? He clearly thought it was a stupid idea. Meh. Eventually M and D turned up, which was cool because they're lovely and at least I know where I am with them. They may be far younger than P, but they act in a far more mature and straight forward way. Unfortunately I had to leave soon after they got there :(

#1's leaving drinks were quite fun, yet more journalists, and a lot of drunken silliness. We got invited to France. Eventually me and #1's gentleman friend dragged her home, where I licked her face, and she licked my ear. Then the fuckwit in the flat above ours played some shite music ALL FUCKING NIGHT.

I'm might walk over to Peckham now. Peckham is officially safer than Oxford Street, but these snobs won't believe me. Oh well, I win.

I have read approximately nothing. Ever.

I take hope in the knowledge that I wasn't the only one who fell for the April Fool's thing. At least I only called ONE person (eh Omar...)

Anyway, the plans for my birthday thing are slowly coming together - seeing as we've been talking about it for five years, this year I will be having a joint birthday celebration with SB. This makes me happy because if no one turns up that I've invited, I can steal all her friends and then tell her none of mine came cos they don't like her. I hope she reads this, the bike geek.... obviously I'm only joking cos she's wicked.

Would you like to see a picture of my ex boyfriend??

Quite the looker eh? I love that photo.

Nothing much of wit to write today. Met up with E, the world's greatest stage manager, after work. I think she's absolutely fantastic. If I write any more it will be sycophantic. I'm clearly rubbish at writing anything that isn't at least vaguely pessimistic - just call it realism and pacify me, thanks.

things that go "hoho" in the night

Several amusing things today:

1. "I just found a whole bunch of pictures of you and Mark West [a guy from school] which I will sell to The Sun when you're prime minister. You have to see these! Am in uni tomorrow. Innit." - potentially hugely humiliating photos of me aged 15, courtesy of one of my friends from school who now goes to my uni and I had the whole 'too much grolsch, not enough sleep, post essay, drunken fighting, one night stand' thing with.

2. "Dear Hattie (if I may)" - how much do I love my supervisor??? I haven't even met him and already I think he's awesome. I might go and google image him now actually.......... okay, he's not a middle aged chinese man so the chances of him fancying me are ZERO but I could see a glorious future for us.

I need to stop with the inappropriate crushes.

3. This story ... it's not true, right?

Please don't think I want anything else but karaoke.

I was just THIS close to throwing up all over the bathroom.

My insides are playing a cruel trick on me. Must have been the gold I was wearing huh.

On the plus - and slightly more constructive - side, this weekend I have washed some clothes and defrosted the fridge. #1 reckoned it was about to explode, and if I fucked up the fridge in any way I would completely ruin the glorious image of when my ex broke the fridge. He decided the best way to de-ice it was to hammer and chisel at the ice, but he only had one working arm because he'd been knocked off his bike and broken his arm.... so of course he chiseled through the gas stuff that makes the fridge work....
... I got home and he'd tried to fix it with an elastoplast and a bit of blu-tack. And was drinking a beer, on the wet, icy kitchen floor.

At this point it would be so easy to make a sweeping generalisation. And I would like to think that I'm above that. But what with that and S's cousin who dug a hole in the floor so that the door would fit, rather than filing the door, I think the only conclusion to be made is obvious.

Anyway, I'm off to check on the fridge now.