Blog Clog?

I have to be honest, I can't find it within myself to become completely thrilled by blogging. I know I do it and so that makes me slightly (ok very) lame for contradicting myself, but I honestly cannot see how it becomes the window to something bigger, something more.

The way I see it, it is an outlet for individual needs, to express explain or rant about something that matters to them, but it doesn't actually open any doors.

I know for others, the lucky ones, it has opened that door, but in amongst all the bloggers just trying to make it onto the 'scene' of something that used to be considered for those who are 'cool' and all knowing on the rarity of expressing yourself onto a computer screen, it now clogs up the blogsphere. It is truly hard to find something special in amongst all the wanabee writers and social bloggers, where is the diamond in the rough, and how long do I have to search to discover it?

I want to read a blog that matters, that makes a difference to me.... something that makes me think, challenge my views, consider another, and want to read more. So far, I have found two. One of an old friend who blogs so eliquently his words stick in my head for weeks, in exact prose, swirling and taunting me on how I didn't think of that first. I like that though, it's challening, engaging, annoying? haha! Another is a commercial blog, not so much a diamond in the rough. It's called amusing planet and looks at odd things that happen around the world each day... it provides excellent pictures and entertainment.

But it isn't it sad that for the half a year or so that I have found myself a member of the blogging sphere, I have only found these two that tickle my fancy? I hate that someone may stumble across my blog, and hate it, but love that they may enjoy it. I love blogging, but it confuses me. I want to say what I have to say, but should I present myself how others may want to see me?
Do i NEED to bE purfekt?
I wanna spell things wrong, not out of laziness, but because I can't actually spell them, without coming across as stupid... I just wanna say what I'm thinking. But the annoying thing is I want it to matter to someone else, as much as it matters to me, and I'm not sure that in amongst all the others with something to say, I'm just another person, with something to say. Where's the unique-ness in that? But at the same time, who wants to be the cocky one, who is the unique one?

So, whilst I'm still struggling with the concept of blogging, I find myself persevering in the hope that one day I shall have an epiphany and realise why I continue to do this.

Itch

It's that time.
It's happening, it's coming, daunting, looming, growing nearer, edging towards us, creeping through the shadows and leaping out when you least want or expect it to. It grabs you by the throat and twists you until you forget how it all started. It lodges itself inside your mind, swirling, vortexing, making it all happen, making it all start.
Then it happens.
Your feet.. they want to move. All . The . Time.
Your hands, they want to twiddle.
You, You, You want to move. Somewhere, anywhere.

It's the itch.

And I've got it bad.

No... it's not some kind of STI you dirty minded creep, or a disease, its the itch for something different. I know my entire life turned upside down, oh only 3 months ago, but yet, I want more. Nothing ever seems good enough, a worthy enough change.

I wanna be somewhere else. Busier, more hustle and bustle. More knocking on the elbow and almost getting run over, more everything.

I want busy-body fever, I want it all!!

And guess what, pretty soon, I'm gunna get it. I'm moving again, this time from outskirts of town in to student halls... it's about bloody time! And I can't wait.

I think the itch has started because it knows what's coming, it can sense it, smell it, it's almost close enough to touch, yet still every so slightly unimaginable, making the itch thrive. It wants to know more, it wants details, it wants times, when, where, how will it all happen, why me? Why has my itch been chosen above others, is mine greater? Is mine thirstier?

It means the tunnel is coming to a close, and this chapter of year one is (not so) sadly over. It means I can start almost fresh again, see unfamiliar faces again, voices, feel like I'm in a totally new place, when I'm not.

I'm too restless. If I don't like change, I don't wait, don't watch the minutes tick by, I move forward as fast as possible, morphing the change into the itch, then hopefully a new change thereafter.

I can't wait... (I blame the itch)

Sleep Deprived And On Overdrive

I swear I actually have insomnia... I know I know I am one of millions that do the same thing... can't sleep so blog instead!! Ridiculous... but we do it for an outlet, so leave us be!

But yeah, I honestly am worried, I think I am a potential or actual insomniac. And a bit of a hedgehog, meaning during the day... no problemo in sleeping for hours at a time, however, once night falls, nothing happens. I am awake, bright as a button, after drifting through the day like some zombie idiot. Eyes open, brain on overdrive. Yet during the hours of actual sunlight, there is nothing, no activity and the day breezes past me. Weird huh?

Hmm, now I think about it the weirder it seems.

Do you ever do that? Think of one thing too much, then the concept flies out the window and doesn't seem normal any more, even though it hasn't actually changed. Like when you say one word over and over until it doesn't sound right, but you know it is! Why does the human mind do that? Is it a mean little trick to confuse us?

And why am I thinking of all these questions? I feel hyper active ... too much to think about and do, so little time and my fingers only allow me to type so fast.

When I get into this little weird state it takes me hours until I finally fall asleep, and even then it is restless, dream ridden and uncomfortable, right up until that moment when the alarm clock goes off and then it's the best nights sleep in the world and I don't want it to end! Yeah, when I'm in this state I start thinking really odd things. Recently, I have managed to convince myself that there is a ghost in my room and whenever I feel a sudden gust of air (the covers falling off me in the night usually) I freak out. Over nothing. If I can see the light from my laptop across the room, I convince myself its a supernatural being, even though it isn't. And once again, freak out.

I do other weird things in my sleep... when it happens. Today, I had a full conversation, by text, with my best friend without evening knowing I had done it! I woke up to my phone buzzing, read a message that made no sense, looked back over my messages and realised for the last 20 minutes we'd been chatting and I didn't remember any of it.

I'm slightly worried... I'd love to do one of those sleep tests, when they put wires on you and measure your brain activity to see if my weirdness is in fact normal and less towards the scale of crazy town.

Night all.

Loneliness

I always thought before I moved away to Uni that I would be fine living by myself. Okay granted I'm technically not alone, I do have three housemates, but really I am alone - I'm with strangers. In a house of other people who are also alone.
This past few weeks I've realised how lonely it can be, living on your own.
I don't mind my own company, I can mess around being a general loser having hairbrush singing moments as often as I like, eating everything without feeling bad or like a disgusting pig, stay in trackies all day and do the clean freak thing.
But who am I kidding?
Being on your own sucks. I obviously am one of these people-persons... but I'm starting to wonder why the lack of constant human interaction is what is getting me down? Why does that make me feel like this?

I don't think I will ever understand it, it's just depressing!

I am one of these people that live for the weekend - so to speak. I LOVED weekends back home, I could get loads of stuff done ... go visit a member of my enormous family, catch up with friends, chill out completely, club club club, buy new clothes, work.

And now... I have no money so it's not like I can go out loads. And I live far away from town unlike all my friends so I'd have to pay for a taxi - soooo expensive - especially when your ALONE because all your housemates have left you and gone home for the weekend, for the millionenth weekend running. So my friends are out, my housemates are out, what am I doing?

When your alone, you think too much. Time passes slowly and you find yourself embroiled in pointless activity after pointless activity, ending up with boiled mashed brain for breakfast the next day. It makes you think... the alone bug creeps in... paranoia sets in, worthlessness.

I sound a bit suicidal sorry!! haha... I'm not but I've found myself writing this at one of the moments I've just described - at the bottom of the pit when you get all stupid and emotional.

PT Manners Matter ??

I don't know if everyone thinks the same way I do, but I have always thought that when using PT (public transport) there are unwritten rules that apply. Recently though, I have noticed that many tend to ignore/trample all over/completely piss on these rules, displaying no sense of group respect that fellow travellers do follow. Usually I would turn a blind eye, but I honestly couldn't believe my eyes at these encounters, and thought you'd find them as funny as I do now I'm excluded from the situation!

Examples you ask?? Many.

This weekend I've decided to come home, as lovely as my life with no money or home comforts is at university I really REALLY miss my double bed, so decided that I needed an escape... sort of like a mini holiday! To me, a holiday starts the second you leave the door. So, there's me, coat clad with THE heaviest bag known to man (including a laptop, a LOT of make up and hair products and some shoes) trapsing down the road towards the bus stop ... glamourous image! So... seeing me in this 'state' Mr I-Own-The-Pavement not only stares me up and down as we walk towards one another, he smirks at the bag of goodies then proceeds to continue walking faster yet towards me, without moving out the way, when I dodge, he dodges, like he actually wants me to 'accidentally' smack his bollocks with giant hacki-sac of rocks until they shrink into the size of raisens screaming "WHYYYY?" It's like he saw me in my state and purposely decided to be a pavement hogging bully!! How rude. Worse still, this appalling excuse for a pedestrian then pressed on with being vile and checked me out VERY obviously. (Okay okay you think I feel genuinely secretly a little flattered... but I honestly was not in the mood to be flattered by some old guy who looks like a fish monger... really?? no thanks) So this was lack of unwritten PT (sort of) rules for my journey home.

Then, I get to the bus stop. I sit down next to someone who I couldn't even describe as male or female (lets just say if it's questionable, it's never a good thing... unless of course that's the look your going for, each to their own!) They then decided that my bag was far too intimidating and promptly stood up... preferring to stand rather than have me sat next to them. So then there's the awkward feeling of 'oh shit do I smell bad?' and then trying to secretly smell yourself in a public place without anybody noticing. Or is that there is a giant condom wrapper stuck to my shoe? Or a big bogey sticking out my nose... BATS IN THE CAVE!! What did I do, why was I rejected by a seemingly transexual at the bus stop midday on a Friday? Do I not look good enough to sit next to and forever be linked to through this bus stop experience? Clearly not.

Ahh well... after this person wanted to share no part of their day with anybody in public... Mr My-Phone-Is-My-1-True-Love-In-Life wanted to share his entire day. I've found there are certain people in this world who just happen to be unlucky at choosing seats on PT... I so happen to be one of them. Drawn to unique-ness and obscurities I often, accidentally might I add, pick the worst seat on the bus. I flop down relieved to no longer be weighed by enormous bag onto a seat behind a man who appears to have torrettes and cannot stop moving his head and shaking it dramatically every time someone of ethnic origin happens to climb aboard the PT shitty express. Great, a wiggly racist. Then, Mr I-Love-My-Phone joins the 'gang' of stragglers and within 30 seconds the iphone 4G is ringing away, he picks up, lips slightly parted begins to speak, but hang on wait...
Some Turkish monster has taken over his entire body and is extremely angry with the poor bastard on the end of line... his buttocks rise slightly from his seat as if he is skiing on Wii sports, with slightly less grace... think of a small child trying to fart in public quietly whilst sat down! (a small child/me!? what... I have no idea what your talking about?! :-0) He clenches his fists, knuckles turning purple with the anticipation of what other Turkish monster is going to reply with, what will his come back be? Well the entire bus seems utterly overjoyed with the 'conversation' phone lover is having, wiggly racist in particular, and all can hear both sides of the story. Of course, this is England, I am English, and frankly, do not understand nor speak Turkish, so to me it was like the incredible drone of a baby crying in a changing room - annoying, overpowering on all emotion in your body and incredibly frustrating.
Not only did I want to hurl this piece of machinery down the bus and through the windscreen just to entertain and change the atmosphere, I also wanted to hunt down and personally attack whoever it was that kept calling him! Wonderful start to my holiday actually...

Thankfully, people on the train had slightly more manners than these. Oh, that is apart from that awkward moment when you catch somebodies eye by accident and they linger a little too long, and then you spend the entire train journey trying to not look in their direction just in case the paths of our retinas happen to cross once more. I enjoy people watching - I consider it one of many strange hobbies that every human being possess' whether they know it consciously or not. It's always, what ARE they wearing, oh dear her pants are tucked in her knickers or I wonder what they're listening to on their ipod. human behaviour is something all other humans are interested in - just not when it involves bad manners in public spheres!

Okay, I know I am a little anal for feeling worked up by my encounters with those from planet moron who haven't yet been trained in PT manners, but it bothers me!
What happens if it becomes acceptable for people to start picking through your hair and eating the bugs buried within - lets remain slightly civilised please.

The Sunny Side of the Street?

Recently, I've had one thing on my mind.

NOT that... you dirter!

Money. As a student there is nothing more worrying than knowing your a hundred into your overdraft - and counting. It's a constant struggle to stay above the 0 line, and the only thing that worries me is knowing I have enough money to eat! (Food is important ... yummm)

So... get a job, problem solved! Simple, right?

Unbelievably, irritatingly, terrifically... wrong.

Getting a job when you only live in one place for 41 weeks of the year is very very VERY difficult. I have been turned down by about ten different places now, and the confidence is starting to get knocked.
"Are you a student?" "Yes"... "Sorry but we don't take on students"
"Do you go home for christmas?" "Yes"... "Sorry we're only looking for christmas staff to work boxing day and new years day"
"Have you got experience in chopping peoples heads off? We're only looking for dickhead employees I'm afraid"

You see a bunch of headlines month after month moaning and exploiting the figures of how much in debt the average student gets across the front pages of every national newspaper... yet no where will employ a student! Why not sort out the job market, then place your bets on how many students would jump at the chance to have enough money to cook themselves something other than Asda's own chicken flavoured super noodles... which taste like utter shite FYI!? Why not see how many would rather see themselves slowly creep out of the overdraft which so kindly is there for the back up plan? Why not wait and see how many students would love to earn money and know they can buy new shoes!!

It seriously grates on me how these rich kid government bodies have the cheek to winge at the poorest in the country, whilst sitting in a shiny polished swanky office, with a personal assistant and tea and cake on tap. How about they get paid less, and invest more tax payers money into what matters, so then the entire country doesn't come out of our education system in a sea of debt while they pop their feet up on a designer leather sofa and watch a 100" bloody TV!

Yes, being a student is hard. It's a reality. But it's made a whole lot harder being in this kind of environment where the government detests you for wacking up your debts, yet they're the people who set the tuition fee's, employers won't take you on unless you have a degree and said debt, food bills are ever-growing, yet the cheapest stuff to buy is the stuff that results in obesity, but we have a government working on a healthy eating campaign.

Everything to me seems like a massive contradiction and that is why... ITS FRUSTRATING and i'm mini protesting by being a lazy bum with no job!!

Rant over... good night.

Live Your Life and Laugh

This past week I've been completely hyper-active and in a 'live life' sort of mood. I've wanted to do everything, go everywhere, every party and every social event. I've wanted to buy every item of clothing I can lay my grubby child-like excited hands on. I've wanted to try one of each sweet, lick each lollypop and eat everything in the cupboard (which I've done ... woopps!!). I've wanted to write a blog post each day... but haven't because there's been too much going on. I've wanted to listen to every new CD going, but can't afford to buy it... spotify is the saviour of that situation.

Seriously I've never wanted to cram so much in. And this week has flown! It's been amazing!! 

I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I am one of the only people I know, bar my housemate Erin - we're were practically separated at birth, who didn't go to the cinema to see Avatar when it was released. This week - that cherry popped, excuse the pun. And I've been missing out!! Why didn't I get off my lazy arse and go and see it in IMAX 3D? One is highly disappointed in one's self. It was amazing... James Cameron has one hell of an imagination! 

So, this in mind, I've been prompted to say 'yes' rather than no to opportunities that come my way... and I'm even fishing for more to do! This is possibly the most alive and active I've ever wanted to be, and I'm loving it!! 

Last night, I went to see Tinie Tempah in concert at an o2 academy near where I live. It was amazingly good, he is so much better live than I ever imagined! He sang with Chiddy Bang and Joe Robinson, as well as plowing through his own set for a good hour and a bit! The only problem though... 

I'm a midget compared to the rest of the human race. At 5"6 I thought I was pretty tall for a girl... apparently not!! Sir McGiant was stood in front of me, so tall I couldn't see his head when I looked up, just a mass of shoulders staring back at me! At one point I laughed and poked my tounge out at a friend, just as Sir McGiant shuffled backwards... I licked a total stranger, and he tasted like student. Miss McPleasant was not impressed. After wondering if he would ever moved, I eventually mustered up the courage to poke him and ask if he'd mind me standing in front of him so I could see, hoping he wouldn't roar and eat me alive due to my stupid request. Luckily he didn't, and I did get to see the last ten minutes of the concert :) 

So, carrying on with the idea of living life... tonight I am going out on a pub crawl, it is Friday after all... dressed pub golf style with 70 other mad drunken first years... it's going to be beautiful... I'll let you know if I can get a hole in one...