Let's ignore that last post, shall we? The whole situation has been sorted out. I won't deny that it hurt, though, so I'll leave that one there. After all, a blog is for documenting things.

I'm currently sitting in my favourite restaurant in Glasgow - Stereo - alone with my boyfriend's Macbook looking like a total hipster. Glorious. I'm happy about things, right now. I've spent the last two weeks alone in Glasgow as all of my friends have gone home for Easter, but it's not been as arduous as I expected. In fact, I'm wondering how I'm going to get back into the swing of socialising when everybody gets back! Total hermit, right here. Exams are looming and money is tight, but those are the only things that may even come close to being worrisome.

My relationships with people are going really well, and yes, I have a boyfriend, and I couldn't be happier. Glasgow is certainly treating me well. I have a flat sorted for next year with my three closest friends, one of which is The Boy. Our flat has four huge bedrooms, two of which are bigger than any room in my house at home, both of which have coal fireplaces within them. Y'know, the kind that you have to light by hand. My room is a fireplace room (whether I'll use it or not is a different matter entirely!), and has the added bonus of having a balcony out of the window. The flat itself is in Glasgow's city centre, 15 minutes from uni and 5 minutes from where the fun things happen. It even has a dishwasher and a roof terrace, and to top it off, it's cheap as chips. We totally lucked out on that one. I'm looking forward to it like you wouldn't believe. I have a job for five weeks in the Summer, working with disabled children, but unlike the last place I worked, I'll be paid this time. Being paid for something I'd do for free is wonderful.

Tonight, I'm going to see the John Butler Trio. He's a musician from Australia, who's gone multi-platinum there as far as I know but is relatively unknown in the rest of the world. For some reason he chose Glasgow to play tonight, coinciding in the release of his newest album, and I can't wait.

Life is good.

Things I Miss: My friends from home, but not to worry because I'm going back between 14th and 19th of April.

I try to keep my updates here positive. I also try to keep them regular, but that's never happened, and I'm going to have to break the positive rule in a frustratingly vague manner now, too.

I'm lost. The last month or two have been something of a whirlwind as far as my emotions and my knowledge of myself and the way I deal with things goes. I've become an enigma to myself. There was a time in my life when I was confident that I knew myself, and from what I can tell that's pretty rare. Now? I'm just lost. There's no other word for it. Confused and hurt and betrayed.

And lost.

My trust has been tested. I trusted and got that destroyed. It's affected me for the worse, but perhaps being less open will protect me in the long-run. I tried to forgive, and I even managed it, and then yesterday that got jumped up and down upon, thrown in a blender, royally fucked up (excuse my language) and left in a gutter to suffer. Yes, I'm being dramatic, but I just can't comprehend this. I can't deal with this. I don't understand, and I'm pretty sure I don't deserve this.

I'm just so sad.

Things I Miss: Being able to trust people.

There is no running that can hide you.

I have just realised that I never considered catching a train down to Birmingham. What was I thinking? It would be so much cheaper and less stressful to sit on a train for four hours, and, when I think about it, I really am rather fond of trains. Being the masochist I am, I just checked the fares. Kill me.

Yes, it's going to be one of those blogs where I talk about inane topics such as my fondness of trains. Or maybe not.

My weekend was nothing short of amazing. Friday night was a good way to start it off, although nothing too exciting. When we got to Cheesy Pop, I spent the night running around the QMU, flitting between friends in different groups, repeatedly bumping into people I vaguely know at various points and hugging them, that kind of thing. I drank minimal amounts of alcohol, won a competition in which I had to tear a piece of paper into the shape of a penis behind my back, saw Ben for the first time in too long, spent less than £10 and managed to retain all of my belongings. I think Friday night can be declared a success.

Saturday night was spent entirely sober. I hung out with friends. We watched Amelie, which just so happens to be one of my favourite movies. We spent some time on Skype to Oliver, being nerds and laughing at dorky things. I went down to library and had intelligent conversation with some people, and finally made my way to bed, feeling awesome, at around 4:30am. Time well spent, if you ask me.

As with Saturday, I woke up at about 4pm on Sunday. We went shopping, procured alcohol and got rather merry. Not much more needs to be said about that.

Despite all of my homesickness, this weekend has really helped me to feel like I belong here; like I fit in. I have made some amazing friends to say the least, and I continue to meet new people and get to know unlikely others. I may pine for the comforts of home, but I love this city and this experience, and I don't regret running 300 miles away to get my education.

It's now Thursday. I went to the gym yesterday and I think it was probably the beginning of the end - I'm going to become one of those gym addicts, I know it. "Monster woman" (thanks Eugene) will soon become She Hulk herself.


Things I Miss: My bath. Showers are great and all, but sometimes you just need to lie in a pool of hot water and unwind.

We sit on front porches and swing life away.

Today has been something of an emotional rollercoaster. I spent the first hour walking around in a haze - I literally could not focus my sight - and then my mood plummeted somewhat. Since the last blog post, I've been thinking about home a lot, and the more I do, the more I want to be back there. This morning was a morning of feeling very homesick. When things are great here I feel on top of the world, but when things get on top of me it's so suffocating. I just felt like I needed to get away. I almost asked my Dad to fly me back next weekend. I was pretty low.

He called me in response to a text I sent him, and now I feel so much better. It really helped. We just talked about anything. One particular highlight was a story he told me about how he accidentally stole a live chicken named Rosie. He was at work and didn't realise she'd jumped into his van. 5 hours and 70 miles later, he opens the back of the van to be confronted by a clucking, quite content chicken. I laughed so much. It was wonderful to catch up with him, and I feel like I can last another month here.

I really appreciate my friends here, too. Josh and I broke up yesterday, and the first thing Charlotte did was walk into my room, produce a packet of Chilli Heatwave Doritos and a bottle of vodka, followed by a hug. She knows me well. Ciara provided hugs and a listening ear. Ben invited me over with the offer of pumpkin soup, and Claire offered me over to hers to escape for a while. If any of you are reading this, know that you're amazing!

Tonight includes alcohol, a girls-only Ann Summers party, and a club night called Cheesy Pop. I wasn't feeling up for it earlier on, but now: bring it on!

I'm feeling a lot more positive; can you tell?


Sexy: My friends here, without a doubt.
Unsexy: I'm feeling too positive for that today :)

You may be a sinner but your innocence is mine.

I am sorry, dear blog, for I have neglected you. Let's kiss and make up, okay?

I was going to say that with university comes increased free time, but that's completely untrue. I may as well be working a 9 'til 5 job. Still, this is a renewed attempt to keep a blog, even if Oliver is going to be the only person reading it (hi, Ollie!). I'm sitting in my room with a bowl of soup and my new laptop, still a little tipsy from last night, avoiding laundry and cleaning. Oh, how responsible I am!

~

The above was written nearly two months ago now, right at the start of the semester. A lot has changed since then, myself included, I expect. I'm still avoiding laundry, and apparently sleep (why is it past 5am?) So here, for Oliver's reading pleasure, is a delirium-fuelled, extensive (but not exhaustive) list of the things I've come to miss about home:

Red onions! Cooking and consuming 'Snobby Joe's' with Peter. Mushrooms. My bed. My living room and the sense of calm it instills in me. Eating at The Warehouse Cafe with Pete and out-staying our welcome, even if we do have something of a quasi-personal relationship with the staff there by now. Baking cupcakes. Rosé wine and pizza with jalapeños. The way that Pete and I have an unspoken agreement that my money is his, and vice versa, and spend it accordingly. Sausage sandwiches. Sweet Chilli Tyrrells, cookies and chocolate soya milk. City Bar with Briony, and re-visiting later in the day to get pancakes with chocolate sauce and ice cream because we didn't have room the first time around. My brother's ownership of all 5 seasons of House, along with my cat, having money, and my Dad.

I notice that many of these items are food-related, haha. I can't say that I'm surprised. I think I'm going to end this one here, before I get past the point of tired. I will leave you with a photo that I definitely think sums up some aspects of university:

Classic.

Sexy: Undisclosed Desires by Muse. My life will be incomplete until this comes on in a club.
Unsexy: People stealing my food.

Don't forget to be the way you are.

I have not given up. I did, however, forget to take into account my occasionally volatile mental state, impromptu open mic nights and the high comfort levels that my bed provide, amongst other things.

I saw my senior tutor on Thursday. Her once reassuring claims of "Don't worry, I will get you into university" are no longer so reassuring; I wasn't buying it. She did say that I could be scratched from the exam if it came down to it, though, so, despite the copious number of tears shed from my eye-sockets, at least something small came out of it. No staying on at King Ed's though. No, sirree. I have no idea what the next year holds for me.

The hardest thing about creative writing for me (well, aside from the self-doubt) is the feeling that I'm trying too hard . I don't want to be like Anthony Kiedis' most recent attempts at lyricism. This genius can be found in such songs as Death of a Martian - either I'm missing something beautiful or that man comes up with a bunch of tosh. I was happy with him singing about sex and girls and camaraderie and Hillel Slovak.

Sorry, slight what-the-Hell-happened-to-the-Red-Hot-Chili-Peppers? tangent there. Back to the point. My vocabulary is pretty decent and Dictionary.com is probably one of my most-visited websites (I probably shouldn't broadcast that I take such a keen interest in learning new words and exact definitions of words I already know) but I still feel slightly false when I use more concise yet more obscure words to convey a point. It feels a little self-indulgent and I'm aware that I could sound pretentious.

Perhaps I just need to stop over-thinking everything.


Sexy: Compassion. Vegetarians and vegans in particular get Brownie points with me.
Unsexy: Men who shout often obscene things at me from their cars. I don't know what they expect to achieve. Perhaps they hope that one day I will turn around and scream "TAKE ME NOW!"

You're something beautiful; a contradiction.

I may or may not have just left this until the last minute. I may also have a Psychology mock in the morning, and the aformentioned Biology essay (that I didn't do this morning after all) is in tomorrow, too.

I watched a film yesterday called Awakenings. Some of the people in it were living in catatonic states and had been for the majority of their lives - 20 years plus - when a doctor finds a drug that brings them back to consciousness and reality. One of the ex-catatonic guys keeps saying how nobody appreciates the little things; that we take so, so much for granted. He's right. It's hard to really appreciate certain things if you've never experienced it being taken away from you, I guess, but I try to make a conscious effort with my health in particular to appreciate my good fortune. The fact that I woke up this morning feeling okay is something I should be grateful for. I have no major health issues and I can walk and see and interact with people. I think it's something everybody needs to pay a little more attention to. You don't notice good health until it's gone, but when it is, boy, will you notice it.

I need to start job-hunting. I figure if I write that here, I may feel more of a responsibility to actually make an effort - reporting back with 'I couldn't be bothered after all' is not something I wish to do. I have absolutely no idea how to write a CV, and most places ask for people with experience, but I'm willing to give it a go.

I talk to my senior tutor about what my options are tomorrow. With only 2 A-levels, I can't get into any of the universities that I want. I'm hoping that she'll perform one of her sorting-things-out-for-me miracles and helps me out of this sticky spot I've landed myself in. If not, I don't know what I'll do with myself; probably have a quarter life-crisis.

I think I'm going to go get an early night and revise in the morning for that test. Sorry for slacking and producing boring blog posts. I'll work on it.

Good night.


Sexy: Geeks.
Unsexy: The way that the guys of Kidderminster insist on walking around topless at the first sign of sun.


Days 'til my birthday: 21.