turnaround

Ok. Life is better now. You guys have no idea.

Technically right now I should be striving to start on the massive pile of next-weeks readings. I even like the content, but, well, you know. Procrastination, etc.

Uni so far is awesome. So awesome. I get to write for my assessments. No essays, no structured-research-papers-that-make-me-want-to-scream (well actually there are one or two, but they don't make up the majority of my assessment. S'all good), no MLA and Chicago and Harvard citing (cough, see last parenthesis). I get to write creatively, and that makes me SO HAPPY. Poems and creative non-fiction and, indeed, a blog. Yay! I'm pretty much in my element thanks to my double major. Now that I've passed the torture of first-year general-ness, the subjects and content have become something I actually want and need to study. Also, the lecturer for Poetry is hilarious. Definitely going to have some stories from that.

Also this week I found out I got the job I mentioned aaaages ago. Finally. I've put off searching for other part-time work since I quit bar tending because I was hoping so desperately to be hired for this one. During the four months it took them to offer me a position, I had a phone interview, a group interview, a personal interview, another group interview to meet the boss, and then I was security checked. Then I waited and waited and stared at my phone, and waited still, and emailed, and called, left a message, waited, called again, finally got through, was told to wait some more...
It was a very very very very long, agonising process.

Who cares. I got it in the end!!!!!

Goodbye Summer.

So like I said in my previous, rather short, post: I haven't been up to much. Really, the idea of sitting down and writing something of interest just wasn't possible, because I've entered that moment in the holidays when you simply NEED to get back to whatever you've been holidaying from. In my case, uni (and I guess technically work. That position I was waiting to hear from? I'm still waiting. Sigh). I definitely need to be forced to think again, because right now my brain feels like sludge. Uni will be a nice change! Luckily, I've only felt bored for about two weeks, so I had a good three-and-a-half months of carefree holiday fun.


Expect better things in about a week. Promise.

blahs.

Ok, I know I said I would be blogging with more consistency, but I've literally been doing nothing. I thought it wouldn't be prudent to discuss my boredom here. You guys shouldn't suffer with me.

I'm about to make some brownies, though, so SHITS GONNA GET INTERESTING.

A Cough With HACK-itude.

I'm sick at the moment. I've had a cough + mild fever for about a week and a half, and yesterday I finally started taking antibiotics to get fixed. Apparently that cliche "things always get worse before they get better" decided to become literal and KILL ME. My doctor step-dad confidently said the medication will start working straight away, but that I will still have a reaction (i.e the cough).

This cough wants to fight. It's realised I am being cured and has said HEY, BITCH, NO ONE GETS RID OF ME! Consequentially, I spent most of today lying on the floor not being able to breath or talk, my eyes and nose streaming, my throat aching from the effort of not splitting open.

My parents were both out today, but my sister stepped up in a rare bout of attentiveness and looked after me. She went and bought some cough syrup which tasted like fairies and worked some of its own magic.

I can't express how helpless and vulnerable I felt before she aided me. Being unable to even call for help was a little terrifying (although, my thunderous hacking was a help-signal on its own), especially when I couldn't think straight or even move. I guess I just appreciate that my little sister can come out of her 'YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME' universe and help her sister not cough up a lung.

Goodbye 4am, Need I Never See You Again

I'm being mildly consistent with this. Whoo!

I've been working at a pub for about three months now. I learned how to pour a proper beer (not as easy as it looks), mix certain drinks and, where appropriate, when to cut certain sleazy men off after they come up and slur, "Eyyyy wanna make me annotther beeer sweetheart?" Regardless of that aspect, working as a bartender has actually been my favourite jobs so far.

Unfortunately, there have been two major problems:

1. The usual knock off time is 4am. FOUR IN THE MORNING. With this finish time, it was normal for me to start work at 10pm which meant I completely screwed myself over trying to keep to a human sleeping pattern (at which I failed miserably). I'd wake up at 1pm, 2pm, or even 3pm, eat 'breakfast,' then I'd have a couple of hours to watch tv or see friends and what not, and then I'd be back off to work again. Lovely.

2. The bar is home to a manager from HELL. He is a horrible person with disgustingly harsh, unforgiving, and unreasonable ways. A person with a temperament of such awful standards that he should not be allowed to manage twentysomethingyearolds when he has an unhealthy grudge against all of human-kind. He's bitter, he's mean - and in no way am I exaggerating. One shift I was found crying in the fridge after he screamed at me in front of customers for making a mistake (after not being taught the appropriate procedure in the first place).

Anyway, today I quit! Good riddance.
I'm actually still waiting to hear about another position I've been undertaking interviews for, so fingers crossed I actually get it. Even if I don't, I won't regret leaving the bar. I'm not the type of person to stick around a place where the staff are treated so poorly. I'm going to miss sooo much working with some of my best friends.

I know I'm not alone in work-horror stories. I suppose they at least give people something to complain about. I'd love to hear some of yours!

Keeping it some-what real

Oh, the blogosphere. How I've wanted to return many a time, but didn't. I am a creature of laziness: the very idea of sitting down to 'type stuff' again was too much for my tiny brain to comprehend. 'Words?' It said, 'Why on earth would you want to make those?' (I understand that by talking to myself I was in fact making words... this isn't really going anywhere).

I don't even know if this is me returning... I mean, I've long ago proved that my dedication to keeping a consistent online presence can be either super committed(!) or non-existent. I think what I needed was a break for all of this. Putting my life out there with various degrees of openness eventually got to me and I needed to stop. The blog, my videos, my whole internet life came to a halt (minus twitter and facebook and tumblr) because it was all too much. Plus, I was a lot younger than I am now. Looking back, I see a massive change in my personality, my maturity, and my view on life in general.

Writing is something I intend to study over the next two years and yet over the past year I couldn't even write for the sake of writing. I think I had become too caught up in the whoosits and whatsits of the internet (WHO is reading my blog and WHAT should I write to keep them entertained?) when I really should have been writing whatever the hell I wanted. Whether this is read by 200 people or just by myself shouldn't be important. I want to write for the pleasure of putting words together and leaving them here forever (because we all know that whatever mark you leave on the internet will be an annoyingly-irremovable stain in techno-world). If I am lucky enough to have someone interested enough to keep reading what I have to say, then that is just a fantastic bonus.

What I want now is to keep a consistent journal for myself first, and secondly for anyone who wants to read what I have to say. There is no point hiding from a world that has so much to offer. Thoughts and experiences should be recorded. Here, I will leave some of mine.


Right! Now that's out of the way, how has everyone been? (Are you still there?)

Sick

Of all the days my body decides to catch a cold, it has to be the day we're doing Pride and Prejudice in Lit. I mean, sure, when we did three weeks straight of Romantic Poetry, I was fine (the topic sounds a lot better than actually it was. I wasn't interested at all in what we learned, despite my love of the Romantics).
But now I won't be able to hear about how my rather pretentious lecturer feels about Mr Darcy. Which is really the only reason I'd want to go.
Not really.

A lot of people seemed interested in what I'm studying at Uni. In short, it's an Arts course. I'm hoping to double major in Creative Writing and Media and Communications, if I still feel like it next year. Uni is alright... half my subjects this semester are either boring or completely shot my expectations, but I adore creative writing, and music psychology.

And that's all my sick brain can throw at you guys today. Sorry!!