Yesterday I made a first in my life. For the first time ever (and this is rather shocking given my addiction to the internet) I legally downloaded my first two music albums. And what a buy they were! After taking what seemed like an age to get all the tracks to add to my music library in media player, I cracked it and have been playing them ever since.
I'm not sure what I'm most proud of though; the fact that I was a law abiding citizen, or the fact that I downloaded music by someone I found randomly on YouTube about two weeks ago and who a lot of my music savvy friends haven't heard of. I'm usually the last person to discover good music - I'm not the biggest MySpace surfer in the world. Usually I'm the person being introduced to random acts through MySpace and YouTube links over MSN.
So for once, I'm the one doing the discovering. And boy, the feel good goes a long way.
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Tick tock... tick tock... I've only got four minutes, I mean weeks, to save the world
Time flies when you're having fun. I hate to admit it, but it's damn well true. After all the stress and horror of September to May, now that I've started to really enjoy myself and be able to appreciate my situation, I suddenly only have a month left to do so before moving on.
Yes, dear reader, I said enjoy myself. You see, I got out of the horrible situation I'd let myself stay in for 7 months, and moved into a new flat with a new, lovely (and, consequently, English speaking) flatmate. And the past month has been utter bliss. I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I seem to only be able to write when frustrated/angry. I don't often feel motivated enough to write when everything's going good, even though I should push myself to write sometimes, just to be able to say that I've done something productive with a small chunk of my time.
And so the time has come to start stressing about the next step. Not about the uncertainty of the future, but it's near certainty thanks to the way I've mapped it out. And although it's what I want, and the only thing I can honestly see myself doing, it's still very scary. I don't know how well suited I'll actually be to teaching, but at least I'm finding out. Face the fear head on, that's how to overcome it, right? It better be.
But, the silver lining is cracking. Despite being much happier both in myself and my surroundings, I still manage to waste a horrific amount of time. It's not like I don't have a to-do list as long as my arm, so why do I do it? I can't decide between it being a result of having nothing to do once it's done, or just being too damn lazy to get on with it in the first place. Either way, it has to get done. All I need to do is push myself to do it.
I'll let you know how many boxes I manage to tick.
Yes, dear reader, I said enjoy myself. You see, I got out of the horrible situation I'd let myself stay in for 7 months, and moved into a new flat with a new, lovely (and, consequently, English speaking) flatmate. And the past month has been utter bliss. I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I seem to only be able to write when frustrated/angry. I don't often feel motivated enough to write when everything's going good, even though I should push myself to write sometimes, just to be able to say that I've done something productive with a small chunk of my time.
And so the time has come to start stressing about the next step. Not about the uncertainty of the future, but it's near certainty thanks to the way I've mapped it out. And although it's what I want, and the only thing I can honestly see myself doing, it's still very scary. I don't know how well suited I'll actually be to teaching, but at least I'm finding out. Face the fear head on, that's how to overcome it, right? It better be.
But, the silver lining is cracking. Despite being much happier both in myself and my surroundings, I still manage to waste a horrific amount of time. It's not like I don't have a to-do list as long as my arm, so why do I do it? I can't decide between it being a result of having nothing to do once it's done, or just being too damn lazy to get on with it in the first place. Either way, it has to get done. All I need to do is push myself to do it.
I'll let you know how many boxes I manage to tick.
Friday, 18 April 2008
Je n'aime que moi
My hiatus got cut short. Within an hour of their return I was upset and going stark raving mad trying to stop myself from murdering one of them.
I even had a 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' moment after the disastrous reunion, albeit in a much less romantic fashion: I got off the bus and walked through the streets without realising it was raining. Heavily. So I got extremely wet. At least it cheered me up, anyway.
If I can take anything away from this horrible situation I've been living in of late, it's that I've learnt a lot about myself. I think I can look at things less subjectively now, for want of trying to see what I've done and how it might aggravate the atmosphere in my "home". So at least I can walk away from the situation knowing even though my head's been messed up in more ways than one this year, I'm a more encompassing person for it. I was never highly intolerant before, but on occasions I would make false judgements based on one or two encounters. Now I like to think that I live by that age old saying "time will tell". Because, after all, the passage of time allows us to accept and explore new people and things, and that time does tell us exactly how we feel about something or someone having changed our minds several times throughout the course of any given period.
Time teaches us who we are, and where we figure in the grand scheme of things. Which is probably a good thing. It's nice to think that I'm the centre of the universe from time to time - even if it is a little selfish of me.
I even had a 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' moment after the disastrous reunion, albeit in a much less romantic fashion: I got off the bus and walked through the streets without realising it was raining. Heavily. So I got extremely wet. At least it cheered me up, anyway.
If I can take anything away from this horrible situation I've been living in of late, it's that I've learnt a lot about myself. I think I can look at things less subjectively now, for want of trying to see what I've done and how it might aggravate the atmosphere in my "home". So at least I can walk away from the situation knowing even though my head's been messed up in more ways than one this year, I'm a more encompassing person for it. I was never highly intolerant before, but on occasions I would make false judgements based on one or two encounters. Now I like to think that I live by that age old saying "time will tell". Because, after all, the passage of time allows us to accept and explore new people and things, and that time does tell us exactly how we feel about something or someone having changed our minds several times throughout the course of any given period.
Time teaches us who we are, and where we figure in the grand scheme of things. Which is probably a good thing. It's nice to think that I'm the centre of the universe from time to time - even if it is a little selfish of me.
Monday, 14 April 2008
Hiatus
After an extremely stressful few weeks, a two-week break is gratefully welcomed. I have a little break away in a different place, I come back, and do nothing. Doing nothing spills over from one day to the next, until suddenly I realise that I haven't left the flat properly in almost a week.
Some would find this worrying. Before I went away last weekend, I'd have agreed. But at the moment, it couldn't be better: I don't have to go to work, where I get stressed out, and my flatmates are away, thus relieving the stress of my homelife. This hiatus is amazing, and I've made a remarkable recovery. To a certain extent.
Half-way through the last school holiday of the academic year, once I go back to school next week, I will be working for ten weeks straight. There is a long weekend at some point in May, but that can hardly be regarded as a break, as such. But next week also marks the return of my flatmates, one of whom will probably darken my mood and let me sink back into the near-depression I experienced just before this holiday.
There was a time when I was this confident, outspoken individual who was clear about who she is and where she's going. Now, when my flatmate is around, I feel like a shell of my former self. I feel that I should be conforming to what my flatmate questions me on with regard to my approach to how I look. Then, I get flashes of anger that I'm even questioning whether I have the wrong approach. Everyone has their own opinions on this subject, but the bottom line is, whatever makes the individual happiest portrays the best image to others. And the fact that I don't give a stuff if I have a hair out of place to go to work, or that I'd rather have an extra half hour in bed every morning than to get up and cover up a few flaws on my face says a lot about my character. Or at least I thought it did. I guess it still does, in a sense that even though I feel much less confident about myself these days, my stubborn streak hasn't faltered, and so I'm sticking to my guns as a form of rebellion, protest.
I wasn't broken before I came here. But somehow in my mind I'm trying to fix myself, trying to bring myself round to my flatmate's way of thinking. Then I get all upset about it and realise that I'm being silly even contemplating changing who I am because of someone I've known for less than three months. And so I carry on as I am, resulting in this merry-go-round of emotions that is cutting me up but also making me stronger, bit by bit, insult by insult. The only thing that rings true in my mind these days is something my mother has said all my (and her) life:
"Take me as I am, or not at all."
That may sound stubborn and uncompromising. But all it says is that I have my principles, my reasons, my own mind. If a person can't respect that, then maybe that person isn't worth getting to know and becoming friends with.
Some would find this worrying. Before I went away last weekend, I'd have agreed. But at the moment, it couldn't be better: I don't have to go to work, where I get stressed out, and my flatmates are away, thus relieving the stress of my homelife. This hiatus is amazing, and I've made a remarkable recovery. To a certain extent.
Half-way through the last school holiday of the academic year, once I go back to school next week, I will be working for ten weeks straight. There is a long weekend at some point in May, but that can hardly be regarded as a break, as such. But next week also marks the return of my flatmates, one of whom will probably darken my mood and let me sink back into the near-depression I experienced just before this holiday.
There was a time when I was this confident, outspoken individual who was clear about who she is and where she's going. Now, when my flatmate is around, I feel like a shell of my former self. I feel that I should be conforming to what my flatmate questions me on with regard to my approach to how I look. Then, I get flashes of anger that I'm even questioning whether I have the wrong approach. Everyone has their own opinions on this subject, but the bottom line is, whatever makes the individual happiest portrays the best image to others. And the fact that I don't give a stuff if I have a hair out of place to go to work, or that I'd rather have an extra half hour in bed every morning than to get up and cover up a few flaws on my face says a lot about my character. Or at least I thought it did. I guess it still does, in a sense that even though I feel much less confident about myself these days, my stubborn streak hasn't faltered, and so I'm sticking to my guns as a form of rebellion, protest.
I wasn't broken before I came here. But somehow in my mind I'm trying to fix myself, trying to bring myself round to my flatmate's way of thinking. Then I get all upset about it and realise that I'm being silly even contemplating changing who I am because of someone I've known for less than three months. And so I carry on as I am, resulting in this merry-go-round of emotions that is cutting me up but also making me stronger, bit by bit, insult by insult. The only thing that rings true in my mind these days is something my mother has said all my (and her) life:
"Take me as I am, or not at all."
That may sound stubborn and uncompromising. But all it says is that I have my principles, my reasons, my own mind. If a person can't respect that, then maybe that person isn't worth getting to know and becoming friends with.
Monday, 31 March 2008
Teething problems
Everything has a dodgy first few days/weeks/months/years. Babies have those horrible few weeks of pain as their first teeth start cutting through. Businesses have a worrying first few months wondering whether they're going to be a success or not. Heathrow's T5 is having the first week from hell.
But why? BAA have been banging on for months and months that T5 was going to be the best air transport facility in the world; that it was going to be the most efficient terminal of them all at Heathrow. Yet they've managed to cancel upwards of 400 flights in this first week, with no real idea when the chaos will end. A backlog of 28,000 bags in transit just makes the situation even more farcical. State of the art baggage system that can process 12,000 bags per hour? I can see a bit of blame shifting in the near future, what with the considerably higher luggage allowance for long-haul flights and all that.
Did anyone look at the logistics of moving the location of all BA's operations in one go? With all that's gone wrong since opening to the public last Thursday, it makes you wonder. But then, Eurostar moved all their operations from Waterloo to St. Pancras over one night, and as far as I recall it went without a hitch. Granted that wasn't on the scale of T5, but honestly, if a load of trains can find their way from one side of London to the other between the hours of daylight, surely a couple of planes can veer their way from one spot of tarmac to another within the same hectare? It's not as though T5 is out of the way of the rest of the airport now, is it?
The question on everyone's lips now? 'Will BA and BAA be fined for the chaos this hideously expensive venture has caused?" Personally, I think they should - Network Rail gets fined for having more than a certain number of late running or cancelled trains, why shouldn't BA/BAA be subject to the same? I know thousands more people are affected by late running or cancelled trains every day than they are delayed or cancelled flights, but it's the principle I'm getting at. In such a short period of time, after such high-profile (and, in hindsight, overhyped) publicity in the build-up to the opening of T5, the parties involved have really shot themselves in the foot. Maybe the government will shoot them in the pocket now... it won't buy back any time lost by all those poor poor passengers, but it'll hopefully make BA think twice about new terminals in the future...
But why? BAA have been banging on for months and months that T5 was going to be the best air transport facility in the world; that it was going to be the most efficient terminal of them all at Heathrow. Yet they've managed to cancel upwards of 400 flights in this first week, with no real idea when the chaos will end. A backlog of 28,000 bags in transit just makes the situation even more farcical. State of the art baggage system that can process 12,000 bags per hour? I can see a bit of blame shifting in the near future, what with the considerably higher luggage allowance for long-haul flights and all that.
Did anyone look at the logistics of moving the location of all BA's operations in one go? With all that's gone wrong since opening to the public last Thursday, it makes you wonder. But then, Eurostar moved all their operations from Waterloo to St. Pancras over one night, and as far as I recall it went without a hitch. Granted that wasn't on the scale of T5, but honestly, if a load of trains can find their way from one side of London to the other between the hours of daylight, surely a couple of planes can veer their way from one spot of tarmac to another within the same hectare? It's not as though T5 is out of the way of the rest of the airport now, is it?
The question on everyone's lips now? 'Will BA and BAA be fined for the chaos this hideously expensive venture has caused?" Personally, I think they should - Network Rail gets fined for having more than a certain number of late running or cancelled trains, why shouldn't BA/BAA be subject to the same? I know thousands more people are affected by late running or cancelled trains every day than they are delayed or cancelled flights, but it's the principle I'm getting at. In such a short period of time, after such high-profile (and, in hindsight, overhyped) publicity in the build-up to the opening of T5, the parties involved have really shot themselves in the foot. Maybe the government will shoot them in the pocket now... it won't buy back any time lost by all those poor poor passengers, but it'll hopefully make BA think twice about new terminals in the future...
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Je suis sérieuse, je ne veux jamais boire comme ça encore! Promis...
It appears I may have learnt my lesson. I know it's the classic line when one suffers a hangover, but I honestly think the years of my mother telling me to drink more responsibly and stop bingeing may have paid off. So, as the clocks spring forward and I have an extra hour of daylight to call my own each evening, I've made a summer time resolution: gone are the days where I'll drink just for the sake of it; arrived are the days where I know my limit, and don't go past them, no matter what the occasion.
It's so simple to write down, and say, but after the torture that was yesterday's hangover, I think this may be one resolution that I'll manage to keep. And I may keep hold of my principles en même temps that way too. For instance, in the bar we were in on Friday, the bar staff had many gimmicks which were not too funny at the start of the night. A few cosmopolitans later, and they were hilarious. Why? Thinking back now, I'm totally ashamed that alcohol changed my view. But as is always the case, it did.
And so now the main goal in life is to enjoy it, savour it, and - most importantly - remember it. Summer will mean no hanging around, the sunshine will motivate me to get things done that have needed doing since forever. Getting that oh-so-desired beach bod won't happen if I have many more wild night like Friday, will it? Once I open up the shutters and let the sunshine in that is. And then I have to get over the shortage of sleep imposed upon me by daylight saving. That gives me an excuse for continued procrastination for the next week or so, at least.
Saying goodbye to winter always makes me feel good though. Living on the Cote d'Azur, I had the good fortune of welcoming spring around three or four weeks ago. Slowly but surely, the woolly jumpers and winter jackets are finding their way to the back of the wardrobe, and the pretty floral spring/summer outfits are coming to the fore. I surprise myself by how much I smile just at being able to wear something pretty to match the nice weather, as opposed to wrapping myself up in as many layers as possible to match the dismal cold weather of the winter months.
Boo winter. Vive l'été! Just let me wake up first, eh?
It's so simple to write down, and say, but after the torture that was yesterday's hangover, I think this may be one resolution that I'll manage to keep. And I may keep hold of my principles en même temps that way too. For instance, in the bar we were in on Friday, the bar staff had many gimmicks which were not too funny at the start of the night. A few cosmopolitans later, and they were hilarious. Why? Thinking back now, I'm totally ashamed that alcohol changed my view. But as is always the case, it did.
And so now the main goal in life is to enjoy it, savour it, and - most importantly - remember it. Summer will mean no hanging around, the sunshine will motivate me to get things done that have needed doing since forever. Getting that oh-so-desired beach bod won't happen if I have many more wild night like Friday, will it? Once I open up the shutters and let the sunshine in that is. And then I have to get over the shortage of sleep imposed upon me by daylight saving. That gives me an excuse for continued procrastination for the next week or so, at least.
Saying goodbye to winter always makes me feel good though. Living on the Cote d'Azur, I had the good fortune of welcoming spring around three or four weeks ago. Slowly but surely, the woolly jumpers and winter jackets are finding their way to the back of the wardrobe, and the pretty floral spring/summer outfits are coming to the fore. I surprise myself by how much I smile just at being able to wear something pretty to match the nice weather, as opposed to wrapping myself up in as many layers as possible to match the dismal cold weather of the winter months.
Boo winter. Vive l'été! Just let me wake up first, eh?
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
Tears on my pillow
It takes quite a lot for me to get so upset about something that it makes me cry.
But this morning, my flatmates managed it with ease. Not content with constantly disturbing my sleep pattern with their bedroom antics, it would seem that my contribution to the household isn't quite how they would like it. My rent is paying for their utility bills (at their own admission, might I add), and I myself contribute as much as is physically possible to the chores, despite being awkwardly confined to my bedroom most of the time (from where I'm writing this post).
They went away on Sunday morning, and returned last night. Rather than notice that I'd done a lot to clean up the kitchen, which is filthy as a result of the renovations they started last week - namely knocking down interior walls resulting in an insane amount of dust everywhere, particularly in the unprotected kitchen -, this morning they hang on the fact that the bathroom and toilet floor hasn't been mopped. Yes, that's right, because of all the dust throughout the rest of the flat, the bathroom and toilet floors don't stay clean for long. And so given that I was out all day Monday and working yesterday, the bathroom and toilet floors haven't been mopped since Sunday. Oh dear, that should surely result in a penalty rent rise, don't you think?
Now, normally I would just take this on the chin, and grin and bear being called "evil", "a villain", "lazy". But this morning that's just not possible. Not when I had to use my mobile phone to guide me through my apartment when I got in last night so that I didn't walk into the fridge or get electrocuted by hanging live wires. This is the last straw. There seem to be no niceties passed between me and them any more: our only topic of conversation is whether or not I've done the housework in the last six hours.
J'en ai marre. J'ai ras-le-bol. Je n'en peux plus. Faites-moi quitter cet apart. J'en ai marre de ce putain d'inquiétude. Mais qu'est-ce que je peux faire en fait? I don't have a plan B...
But this morning, my flatmates managed it with ease. Not content with constantly disturbing my sleep pattern with their bedroom antics, it would seem that my contribution to the household isn't quite how they would like it. My rent is paying for their utility bills (at their own admission, might I add), and I myself contribute as much as is physically possible to the chores, despite being awkwardly confined to my bedroom most of the time (from where I'm writing this post).
They went away on Sunday morning, and returned last night. Rather than notice that I'd done a lot to clean up the kitchen, which is filthy as a result of the renovations they started last week - namely knocking down interior walls resulting in an insane amount of dust everywhere, particularly in the unprotected kitchen -, this morning they hang on the fact that the bathroom and toilet floor hasn't been mopped. Yes, that's right, because of all the dust throughout the rest of the flat, the bathroom and toilet floors don't stay clean for long. And so given that I was out all day Monday and working yesterday, the bathroom and toilet floors haven't been mopped since Sunday. Oh dear, that should surely result in a penalty rent rise, don't you think?
Now, normally I would just take this on the chin, and grin and bear being called "evil", "a villain", "lazy". But this morning that's just not possible. Not when I had to use my mobile phone to guide me through my apartment when I got in last night so that I didn't walk into the fridge or get electrocuted by hanging live wires. This is the last straw. There seem to be no niceties passed between me and them any more: our only topic of conversation is whether or not I've done the housework in the last six hours.
J'en ai marre. J'ai ras-le-bol. Je n'en peux plus. Faites-moi quitter cet apart. J'en ai marre de ce putain d'inquiétude. Mais qu'est-ce que je peux faire en fait? I don't have a plan B...
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