Photo Thirty Nine

I think I look fuunny heeereeee o:

So last night I wasn't happy.  At all.  At like..4am everything got on top of me.  Unfortunately, there isn't really an "everything" to speak of.  I think that a lot of my life is changing, and I'm finding it kinda hard to deal with, because, well, I'm like that.  So first I'd like to apologise to my Viking as I've been kinda crap and very clingy along with this.  Fortunately not for long.  Now I just can't wait to see you tonight and remind you that I'm pretty alright; or something.  Sometimes I feel like I make you forget.

Anyway.
Basically.
It's just not that bad.
Even when you feel at your wit's end and there's no one to talk to, there's always someone.  Even if it's someone from Samaritans.

I've never had the worst problems in the world (shall we say).  I've had times when I've been down, who the hell hasn't?  I just tend to feel the way that people around me feel.  And if, at times like these, I don't have people around me much, I find it quite difficult because I just don't know what I should really be doing.  I'm like my mum, apparently; she wants people to be around all the time, too.

I think I'm trying too much to be everything, to the extent where I'm kinda forgetting who I actually am.   I can't say I fully know who I am, I can't write a definition, but I want to be someone who is full of energy and happy to be where they are and happy alone or in company (apparently both only to an extent, but whatever).. and I like to think that, most of the time, I am that.

I always like to see the best in people and it's something that I've got worse at recently, but in all honesty I'm not sure that that's a bad thing.  I needed some of that.
I would like to be interested in people again; it used to be that I would spend hours writing someone's story.  I would sit in a cafe and someone would catch my eye, be it a man who was studiously systematic in the eating of his meal; or a builder who was so engrossed in what he was doing that he forgot about his food.. and I would write all about them.  I would write where they had come from, where they were going, why they were distracted, why they were systematic or why they were engrossed.  I miss doing that.  Though, to be fair, I think that it's partly because I don't have anywhere that I feel comfortable enough to do it in Aber.  I'm just glad that yesterday, when I went for a walk, I remembered where my favourite place in Aber is...

I'll just have to remember to go back there now.

Although I have been enjoying this monologue, I really should go and revise.. Especially because apparently my friend's singing in a Glee thing tonight, so I'll be off out from about 7 until about 10.  Unless I get distracted by talking to my Dad, which is really rather likely.

Good times yo!

Big love (:

Home.

I've always been someone who cherishes the feeling of coming home.  Somewhere familiar, after having been away for a long time.  It's something that I find essentially irreplaceable, though I can't really tell you why.

I also can't really explain what home is for me.  A place; a state of mind; a person.  For a while I felt like a person was home, because I felt safe when I was with them... But I grew out of that.  People can't be relied upon in that way because they're just too unreliable.  You expect one thing from them then they suddenly piss off and do another.  The only person you can rely on for stability is yourself because you get as much as you give, essentially.  If you want to mix things up and change things then you just do.  It's not difficult.  It's difficult to want someone to be around when they're not.

I think that might be part of the reason why I'm missing home at the moment.  I just booked my ticket home and I can't wait.  To see my family, mostly.  It's going to be strange though, because my brother's moved out now.  That'll be strange because when my parents split he was the person I spent most of my time with and, in some ways, depended upon the most.  We've always been close even though I've never told him everything; I've always been able to tell him the most significant parts, the parts that I need him to listen to most.  I like to think it's a reciprocal understanding.  But now he's done that growing up thing, and is living in London, doing whatever he does.

Anyway.  When I've been at home, as in Brighton, I've never felt much of an attachment to it unless I particularly wanted to be there. I can remember one time when I felt down, lying on the carpet at the bottom of the stairs to my room and smiling.  I was home; it was exactly where I wanted to be.  I think that was because it was a sanctuary.  No one in home was going to hurt me, like people outside of it could.  That could be why I don't feel particularly attached to my flat in Aberystwyth most of the time; I know full well that the people here may hurt me and do use me.  Example? Well, Josh.  I let him use my stuff and he does fuck all in return.  I'm pretty sure he has my pillows too; I came here with three, I now have one.  They're just not in his room so he assumes that it's not him.  That's like with the washing up: we had two cupboards filled with dirty crockery that he denied was his because he, when making the mess, had used other people's crockery.
It pisses me off how people are physically incapable of owning up to having got something wrong and taking responsibility for their actions. Dicks.

As you may be able to tell, I'm not in a good mood today.  It didn't start well, then I decided to chill out and soon enough get some revision done, and now it's just not really happening.
I wanna go home.  Or at least talk to my dad.  I was meant to last Wednesday, when I went out for a saucepan and accidentally got terribly drunk instead, but there we go.

I think one of the things I miss about home is lying on the sofa watching shitty CSI with my Dad, talking about everything.

I don't particularly want to be alone today, if I'm honest... but there's only so much you can do.
Oh I hate emo posts!  Good side: train tickets are booked and I'm out of here at 9:30am on Monday 28th May.
I can then see my Dad, then my Mum, then my friends, and then I can go to Ireland (SO excited), then Spain, then Norway to see my Viking face, then back home again for my cousin's wedding before Benalmadena with the girls from home (assuming that actually happens).  Though that one is a bit annoying - I said "can we not go to Spain because I'm spending ages there anyway" - so we're going to Spain, really near where I'm going for most of August. Fail, much.
Then it'll be back to Aber with a fresh face and new level of excitement for life.  That's the theory anyway!

When I'm back in Aber, the aim will be to get out and make as many friends OFF my course as I can, because honestly, too much time with the same people isn't good; and really doesn't suit me.  Especially when the easiest alternative for them is my flat, who are both irritating and flirtatious.  So there we go.  Even more exciting: next year I won't be living in squalor and disgusting conditions!  It'll just be Becca and me.

I'm still considering a horse for next year.  Two people have suggested loaning one together; with one of them it would mean no early mornings, and the other would mean half as many as usual.  Which is good.  I would probably need a car though, which is less good....

Anyway, having cheered myself up; revision time.  Yay!

Big love. xo

Photo Thirty Eight

Good evening, blog.  How are we all today?

I have spent my day revising and my evening procrastinating, in short.  I had a lie in 'till 10.30 which helped me to feel a little bit alive again, because I've been exhausted of late, then revised sitting on my Viking's floor until about 3, when I came home, didn't revise much more and made risotto out of my left over drunk gammon.  (I can't remember if I said on here or not, but drunk Cat decided it'd be an amazing idea to buy 2 joints of gammon... I think that's meals until I leave uni sorted!)

Which reminds me; less than a month left.  About 3 weeks, in fact.  As long as I can find somewhere, to leave my stuff, I should be off by the 28th of March (as I will be wanting a large one on the 26th: night of the last exam).  Until then, there may or may not be about 2/3 nights out, but I've become determined to do well enough this year to take the pressure off next year.  You see, I'm doing a FnD (foundation degree) which means that I have to pass this year, my work experience placement over summer, then next year to get said FnD.  However, I'm not wasting two years of my life on a degree that won't even get recognised by most employers, especially when it's called "equine studies".  I mean seriously; does that not scream "thick"?  Therefore, I'll be doing my third year and I'll be trying my best to get used to working properly; getting work done in good time before deadlines; and getting good enough marks to get onto the third year Equine Science (coming out with a BSc in Equine Science would, I think, be a shitlot better than a crap degree in a crap sounding subject).
God, I'm such a snob.
Says the girl wearing a Nike polo top with the collar turned up.

Anyway.
It's time to pop to the Viking's now, so I'll speak to y'all again tomorrow, AFTER enough revision.

Peace and love and lollipops. xoxx

It's Official.

The stories of "what I did last night" are, without a doubt, my least favourite thing on this planet.  There's a reason that I don't drink much, and it's because I don't like those stories and don't think that hangovers are usually justified by the experiences of the night before; particularly because I don't remember most of the night if I pass a certain point of drunk.

Now back to my previous post, really; my point is completely supported.  I had a much better night last night with my Viking than I would've if I had been out.  There's no point in spending a fortune on events I don't remember and don't always enjoy.  I kinda wish that my Fresher's experience had been different because it would've meant I might actually remember it; might actually have got something from it.

With that clarified, now all I have to do is figure out how much I annoyed my friend.  Oh gawd.

We Could've Been Anything That We Wanted To Be

Oh yes, based on the Bugsy Malone song.  What a champ.

I've always been one of those people who want to be exceptional.  Always wanted to stand out from the crowd as pretty, as good at what I do, as someone you want to be around.  This is why I think I need to have a few goals.

1. Run again.  And not in that half arsed way of before.  Properly.  This means three times a week, minimum, no matter of the weather and no matter of what excuses I can come up with.  The goal of running will be to get to the place my Dad and I marked out comfortably; then vary the speed (sprint from one lamppost to another, then jog as slowly as I can to the next one, etc); then talk to Dad about what to do next.  The only problem is the hills and lack of footpaths in a lot of places, but I'm not here for much longer, and when I'm in Ireland there's fuck all around so it'll be easy to have a wee jog around the town either at 5am or 9pm.  It depends.

2. Push myself with riding.  Get more lessons on horses like Mac and get Shelley to teach me because I am fully aware of how good for me she is.  Last time I rode him, it was possible to see the difference; from the horse who would pull against me and not trust me, into a beautiful animal working through himself and round as anything.  It was a rewarding experience.  I want to be able to figure horses out, at least better than I can, by the time I get to Ireland because I will want to impress people there.  If I don't think that I'm one of the best people there (or rather, if they don't), I won't be as happy as I could be.  And why would I want that?

3. Don't drink if I don't want to.  Example: tomorrow I'm going for a meal and then out with Becca and Alice. I don't want to go out. I've spent a fortune this weekend and it's not like me and it's not what I want to do.  To be fair, I've loved this weekend, but if I am going to go on an adventure instead of to the May Ball, I'll want to be able to afford it, as it could easily be expensive.  So tomorrow, I'll probably leave early and I won't drink much.  The good thing about being with people who are drinking a lot at the moment is that it's very easy to act like I'm drunker than I am.  I don't like the feeling the next day.  I don't like finding out what I've done; I don't like ending up feeling like the whole night wasn't worth it. That's what was so good about this weekend: I went out and had an amazing time with someone I don't spend that much time with and that was brilliant.  So brilliant that feeling like shit the next day, and having to have a tactical before leaving the house, felt justified.  I think I'll basically stop going out unless I actually want to: I'll be more like Nick, in that regard.  Even if you're organised to go out, if you don't feel like it, then why bother?  It's just a waste of money on a night which could easily just be shit.

4. Look, think and be happier.  I like being happy.  I have nothing to complain about in my life, either, so it's brilliant being able to just chill out and be happy.  Because of that, I guess I won't be too bothered about people if they're distancing themselves from me.  If people don't want me to know about them, then I won't ask.  There's no point in me worrying about people I have no control over, and who won't worry about me in return unless it's because I'm wearing short shorts and am out with a male friend.

5. Be everything that I want to be.
The only thing in my way is me.
And that, readers, goes for everyone; I can't imagine much that people genuinely can't get around to further themselves and their lives.
Get on it.

Drive By.

Yes, Drive By.
My new favourite song.

"More Than Just Right... Oh I was Overwhelmed, In Fact As Scared As Hell....."


And there I was, contemplating feeling down.  No need for that!

Photo Thirty Seven [Here's To The Moments]

Here's to the moments of perfect clarification.  Ones in which you realise, or sometimes just remember, that although there are so many options in the world, the thing that you want is...........

Let me explain, perhaps.
I've had an amazing weekend.  I went out on Friday with my friend Alex and his friends and my friend Lottie, and had a great laugh (that's where the photo above is from.  I don't know who the guy is, but yano, he was there for a bit, an' ting).  I went out on Saturday with Lottie and another friend called Georgie and we went to what was basically a rave which was absolutely amazing.  We danced with Georgie's flatmates who are amazing!
On Sunday I got to see my man and relax.  On Monday I accidentally went out again; I left mine with a friend under the false pretense of going to buy a pan for Rob, my flatmate whose pans were thrown out of the window by said friend a while back.  We proceeded to get cocktails, drink half a bottle of gin each, and the rest of the day is a bit of a blur.

When I spend time with my Monday friend (inbetweeners moment) at the moment it's really nice, honestly, because we seem to be on the same page about a few things like the people in the flat and everything.  For the past couple of times we've been talking we've had really nice conversations that have been quite in depth.  I've really enjoyed them.  We were doing this while lying on the beach yesterday, drinking gin.

Unfortunately, after this, he got pretty flirty.  Again.
I'm fully aware that I am a flirtatious person.  There is no point in denying it because it would be an outright lie.  However, it is high time to, next time I'm drunk with him, say - essentially - "bitch, no".  It's only fair, and all that.

So the moment that I've just enjoyed is the one that made me scared for a moment: would I cheat on Henrik with him if I was drunk enough?
Answer: No.

What a lovely feeling it is, knowing things like that.  I like trusting myself more.
And I think I have my Viking to thank.



It's weird being in a relationship which is likely to have an end date.  Of course, if it's the price of being with Henrik then there's not exactly a problem with it, because he is good for me and frankly at the moment I need him.  But sometimes I wish I didn't know that it would end.. Even though it will be "getting back together as friends", rather than a breakup, it's still not an amazing feeling.  But as I said, if that's the price of being with him, then that's just fine.

Having said all that, it's kinda clear to me that every time someone has thought that a relationship between me and him could last forever, I haven't, and I've ended up breaking his heart.  Not that I feel like a bitch or anything.  And anyway, there's a long time to go between here and then.

I can't wait to see him.  Have him kiss me on the back of my neck.  Have him bend his legs into mine when he spoons me.
Those are some of the every day moments that I just won't forget.