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Better?
I’ve been desperately trying to think of something to talk about between being back to school, attending half a dozen weddings and trying to grapple with the idea of Elizabeth I as a feminist icon for my masters essay.
And I wonder if that might be the problem – that I am too busy to have anything to really say. I can remember being bored out of my brain, lonely and wanting a boyfriend penning 5 entries a day – all of them saying ME ME ME! Notice me world – even if I barely seem to exist. SEE me NOTICE me.
I exist too much at the moment… being pulled apart from pillar to post and beyond. The marking is piling up, the essay is (frankly)crap, the rounds are being gotten in and there is SingStar. Waiting.
I’ve been sad for a few days now, and the boy is frustrated about how long this will go on for. “Will you be better by the weekend?” he asked this morning as I painted an airhostess smile across my face with a melon juicy tube.
Better by the weekend? I can’t be any better than this, I’m barely staying afloat!
Things: Nice/Not Nice
Nice things
1. My best friend from uni is coming to live with the boy and me following a break up with her boyfriend.
2. It should be really fun – we used to get on stupidly well as students – drunk, eating crap, sleeping in the same bed (the boy has special hopes for that one I think!). Better still is the fact that she has volunteered to pay rent – which I hadn’t asked for, but now means that
3. I can buy the shiny new wardrobes that I have had my eyes on! Plus my parents gave me a car for Christmas (although I can’t drive), so the boy sold his skanky excuse for a car for a few hundred and so we can go on a fun weekend in February.
4. I’m thinking… Budapest. Anyone been there?
5. Also, my tutor says my first draft of my first Masters essay is OK. Which is good because I now just have to tweak it, waffle through a few more lines of the conclusion and it’s done, rather than having to rewrite it.
6. Also, I went to my new course yesterday and it was fantastic. 17th century politics are yummy.
7. It looks increasingly likely that I will be able to set up a classics department in my school next year, and be head of it. How much fun is that?
8. I am going to dinner with my friend for his birthday on Friday and there will be two celebrity comedians present. I’m already laughing!
Not so nice things
1. I am shattered from marking, and have to take on a girls geography class because the teacher has gone on maternity leave. Very inconsiderate pregnant lady. When they told me I cried, because I hate geography – a subject which requires you to copy and colour in maps as far as I can remember.
2. The crying may have been due to exhaustion (see first point).
3. At college yesterday I accidentally volunteered to do a presentation on the imagery of Charles I next week, which means I have to spend the weekend in the library AGAIN. Still, at least it’s fairly close to the shops.
4. Last night, the condom broke.
On balance, not so bad!
Something from nothing
I've been meaning to blog for ages because I used to find it a really good way of organising my muddled thoughts.
But so much has happened that it's almost impossible to know where to start... and if I'm not careful I'll just end up making lists of good things and bad things, a poor bloggers trick (and one I to often use).
So I sit here in my school, waiting for the bell. I have to get the bus tonight because my new car broke. Rubbish! I have a girlie evening with my uni mates next week, I'm being enveloped back into their fold and it feels lovely. I tried too hard to be friends with the unpleasable for the majority of my twenties and its taking me a while to remember how to be myself. It's fun though.
Tomorrow is Australia day and my antipodean friends and I are heading to my local walkabout to tie kangaroos down and drink schooners of VB.
Anyway...
Blue plaques - I love them and read everyone I see, but I must be a bad historian because I rarely know who anyone is:
Thomas Tree: Philosopher, philanthropist and inventor of time visited the dentist here in 1921.
Karl Marcheti: Revolutionary. His sister lived here 1919-1923.
All I know is that they invariably conjure up images of red wine, long nights and leather chairs... there would be cigar smoke surrounding the blue plaque owner at all times. These are the rules.
Perhaps I should start smoking cigars, because I would like my own blue plaque one day. But as this rambling sod of a diary attests to - I never do anything worth writing down.
For the record
I have asked to do something career changing at school.
If I am allowed then I find out tomorrow.
I yam scared and excited.
Woo.
On another note - if you have dedicated something to someone (like a trophy, or a work of art, or a book) can you take it away if you don't like them anymore?