Monday, October 25, 2004

Well, I'm slightly pissed off right now. I guess I'm still half resentful of my housemate's apparent lack of concern for their degree studies, but I'm also pretty pissed off that they haven't left yet so I can watch all new The OC in peace and quiet. Fucking bastards. Harsh maybe, but a reflection of my true feelings. I hope they fuck off soon.

Special difficulties or difficult specialities...?

Today is going to be a special day. Special in that it's going to be my first time leaving the house in over two days. Today is also going to be a really difficult day, because I haven't had a cigarette in over 24 hours. I was supposed to quit ages ago, but then there was that thing, and how was I supposed to know? Anyways, I'm on patches, but since the nicotine is being administered in an almost intravenous fashion, I quite often get these weird pains in my leg... great! Only another 11 weeks and 5 days of that to endure. Perhaps I'll end up with lungs that are in slightly better condition, but I have a feeling I could have numerous blood clots by that time. Ouch!

How very self-absorbed...

Monday, October 18, 2004

who needs enemies...

I don't know whether it's intentional or not, but it seems to me that ever since I've come back to Portsmouth and met up with the guys again, I've ended up feeling pretty down and depressed. Am I really depressed, or just being melodramatic? Saddened, then. Disheartened. Whatever.

For example, D, I and L decided to go out tonight on a lad's night out. I was adamant that I would not go. Apart from the fact that being around them 24 hours a day is starting to do my head in, I've got a seminar at 9am tommorow morning, so I didn't want to have to fall out of my bed like some extra from a Romero movie. I hate feeling hungover, especially when I've got a class. Which is cool, or is it? I don't know. I sometimes feel that by caring about how I come out at the end of my course, I'm missing out on the social aspects of student life. I guess I resent them in a way. Given my inability to find anybody special, and their ability to have special people and still find others, I guess I just feel socially inferior. No. I know I feel socially inferior, I know I am socially inferior, and they know all that too. And the fact that I know that they know that, probably means that I'm paranoid, or something like that. Anyways, I just feel like I'm being mocked sometimes: that my social deficits are being made light of at my expense. And nobody likes being the butt of a joke. Perhaps I should remember this feeling when I turn sarcastic on peoples' asses. I won't. But I should.

However, rather than dwell too long on my so-called dilemma, I'm going to try my best to plan how I'm going to improve myself in the face of it... or at least learn to ignore it. Now where do I start...?

Looking back on my weekend now, I can see that it was almost entirely without point or excitement of any kind. Friday night was lonely, and scary. Who knew that one could get paranoid from isolation? I thought that the presence of an external source of validation (or invalidation) was needed for that. Anyway, I watched ER and that was about it.

Saturday was no better. I tidied my bedroom and the lounge, but gave up when I got to the kitchen. I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or not. The bedroom and lounge are now back to their usual state of looking like bombsites, while the kitchen has remained a bombsite, and a feeding ground for god knows how many bacteria and deadly viruses, all along. Now, is it better that the bedroom and lounge have been cleaned at some point, OR, would it have been better to conserve that energy for something else when it is considered that said cleanliness wasn't exactly long-lasting. I don't know. (N.B. I have now realised that I am repeating myself, but I'm feeling a little fragile now, so I'm going to pretend that I haven't and that I'm making good use of the time).

The afternoon consisted on shopping for stationary (or is that stationery - I think it's the one ending -ary), napping, watching a bit of Lost in Translation, crawling away from the appeal of the great Bill Murray to do some work on my 'Literary Detectives' unit, before later watching Shaun of the Dead and The Cell. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to watch Shaun of the Dead because I picked it out, but only because I felt I had to since I was going to be watching whatever was picked with D and I. Frankly, I would have preferred working my way through the sheer magnitude of ER episodes I've been supplied with by MDR. I've only managed to watch one episode over the entire weekend, and that wasn't until about 12am this morning once the lounge area had been vacated. (I hasten to add that the lounge was not entirely vacated throughout the 45 minutes of that episode, as I had D and I making guest appearances, and, I, myself, was there occupying it. Anyway, moving on from the technicalities of watching ER...).

Sunday involved doing more work on the 'Literary Detectives' unit, followed by a bit of Tesco Express, followed by a bit more work, followed by the week's essential viewing of The OC (sadly, I'm becoming a bit of a girl with that programme... and when this is considered alongside my liking of ER, I think I should consider having a sex change and calling my self something like Roberta. I don't know. Just a thought). This was followed by more studying, some listening to music, drinking of wine, eating of maltesers, and acting like a fool. After this had all happened, I tried giving Sex Traffic a go... however, after a copious amount of alcohol, I found it pretty hard to keep up with, so opted for the slightly less weighty option of ER as aforementioned.

This of course, leads me up to today, which has been eventful in its own right. A very nice computer has suggested that I should consider midwifery as a career, which is interesting in its own right. Then there was the mind-expanding lectures (2) and tutorials (only 1, so tutorial really) I attended, and now, which consists of listening to those tracks of mine on iTunes that I seem to have neglected in favour of, well, other stuff. I aim to start reading Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe at four, for a couple of hours.... after that, who knows?

(N.B. I realise that I'm not the most unpredictable person in the world, and that afterwards only three things can happen... possibly four. A) I watch TV. B) I watch ER. C) I listen to music and browse the internet. Or, the most unlikely of the four, D) Go out and be sociable. I'm guessing B or C, but A is a distinct possibility).

Saturday, October 16, 2004

I'm having something of a cleaning spree. I've managed to begin ordering the stuff in my room, and have even begun to allocate drawer space a little more efficiently. I've hoovered the carpets, and dusted the furniture in both my bedroom and the lounge, and have put a load of washing on since it seems like it could be a fairly good day, and I really need to think about changing my bedsheets. I don't think I have to worry about them getting a personality of them in the near future, but they've been on there for two weeks now, so they need to be changed really. I'll make a start on the kitchen later, but I need some new dishcloths, a broom, a dustpan and brush, and a decent mop. I guess this random act of cleansing makes up for the fact that I'm feeling a little lonely right now. My housemates seem to be busy being with their girlfriends elsewhere in the country, being with their girlfriends in bed, or being seriously hungover after a rather stupid night out drinking after smoking weed. Nevermind.
My delivery came from an un-named source today, except it was not what I ordered. I ordered a Jose-Eisenberg purifying facial exfoliator, and they sent me a facial mask thing. I don't particularly fancy walking around the house with that on and cucumbers on my eyes. I'll have to see if I can fob it off on to somebody else. Perhaps L or E. If they don't want it, I'll have to go farther afield. I'm not sure giving it to B would be a good idea, since her skin is not too different to mine, and I know that if she gave me something similar, I might feel a little offended if the gift wasn't given with careful consideration. Since I'm pretty careless by nature, and usually end up hurting people's feelings without meaning to, I don't think giving it to B would be a good idea.
And with that, I think I'm going to go and check on my washing then take a shower. There's some serious cleansing and organisation to be done.

Today started well. I got up at the fairly remarkable time of 8.30am (or thereabouts), and proceeded to make oneself a coffee, and do some background reading. Naturally, I gave up after working on the same article for about two hours - though that in itself was not solid, but I had background music - and, after showering, shaving and general bodily pampering, I made my weary way to class. In an odd twist of fate, however, my most dreaded unit this semester has already become a contender for my favourite within the first week. It's going to be hard work, but I'm confident that 'Contemporary European Thought' will be fresh enough for me to enjoy, and different enough for me to relish a break from literary studies. There was a down-side though, since this unit seems to manoeuvre quite strongly around the concept of 'modernity', which subsequently requires a consideration of 'capitalism', and that's where it gets depressing and I feel bad about my largely consumerist lifestyle.
'Mad, Bad, and Dangerous To Know' leaves less of a melancholic feeling, but, on a Friday afternoon, is not a particularly great start to the weekend.
Other than that, I walked to Tesco Express in the rain, and bought wine, milk, onion bagels, and garlic and herb 'Philadelphia' cheese spread. I went home, fucked about for a bit, then fucked my head up for a bit, then crashed out and watched ER whilst my fellow housemates all seemed to carry on normally with their social lives. I sometimes resent their ability to go out clubbing and have a good time when all the ingredients are so rubbish, but know that I will never be able to appreciate dog shit as gold, no matter how well perfumed it is. Now, I'm listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers and am beginning to think that the dog-shit that is the union is a little bit less runny than the dog-shit that has been my evening. I long for an opportunity to do something different, to spend time with my friends in an environment that doesn't revolve around excessive alcohol consumption. And on that note, one of them has returned in a less than respectable state, and unable to walk in a straight line. I'm going to kill some air.