It's that time of year for last things: like last minute studying, last exams, last minute paper work and "at last it's all over but what do I do with my life now?"
I'm sitting on the bench in the vicinity of the Royal Exhibition Building flicking through my physics notes. I stop and skim a proof of finding the magnetic field of a line of current and hope that I will remember it if I'm asked to recreate it in the exam, but really I'm hoping that it won't be on the exam at all. I'm hoping to do well in this exam, because otherwise my mad-woman three days of intense study would have been for nothing, but really I'm just hoping this'll all be over soon so I can finally breathe easy.
When impatience and nerves deem reading my notes pointless, I get up and head towards the Exhibition Building. To be honest, I like this fifteen minutes before the doors are opened. You keep catching sight of people you know among the hundreds milling around outside the doors and you realise how many people you've come to know over the semester. There is a feeling of connection in our common edginess.
The examination hall is enormous. It is even bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. It should make anyone feel small, but instead you feel too big in your isolated single desk, the exam paper looming even larger in front of you. It seems almost inconceivable that such a large room of people can be so silent. Perhaps a certain Alice would feel a sense of deja vu if she were to sit an exam here. The silence is broken by the sound of retching from the bathrooms. One thousand people ignore the sound and pick up their pens.
All exams have a last moment. It's around the three hour mark but you do not know when exactly it is, so you either scribble away madly at a question that you just can't seem to work out, or doodle in the margins ready to accept whatever fate brings in the way of marks. And then out of no where the last moment passes and the big booming voice says "PUT YOUR PENS DOWN NOW." There is always one last person scribbling some extra line, like the last horse to cross the line. And we are all looking around to catch the eye contact of people we know to share either horror or happiness.
With people I have never eaten lunch with during the semester, I walk to Thresherman's Bakehouse* and order a sandwich bursting at the seams with relief and a milkshake frothing at the lip with joy. And for the first time in what seems like ages we talk without glancing at our watches, and it is brilliant. In the next few days I donate blood, run revision maths for yr12 students, get my hair cut, see an old friend and meet up with a new boyfriend. It feels just like I have just finished my last exam.
Except that I haven't.
A week later I find myself at my desk again going through notes, doing practice questions, memorising trivia, stressing about getting everything done before the exam day. But my heart's just not into it anymore. My mind and body is complaining, "Why are you putting me through this again? I've worked hard for you. I deserve a nice long break." To make things worse, my friends that have finished their exams keep organising parties and get-togethers, some of which I can attend, but none of which I want to be reminded of while I'm stuck by myself studying.
Its not until 4:15pm on Thursday the 25th November that I walk out of my last exam for real. I head back to Thresherman's with a friend and have celebratory baklava. Usually baklava, flaky on the outside but oozing with honey, is a bite of heaven, but today the baklava is too sweet. And the celebratory nature of it all dampened by one more deadline.
It's 2am on Friday the 26th November; though for me it's still the same day as yesterday. My exchange application is due on the tomorrow that is actually today. I am still writing my resume and exchange essay. The printer is refusing to work. They promise us that exchange is going to be a brilliant experience, and I believe them; it's just a bit hard to feel excited at 2:30am after your last exam when you should be finally free from stresses. It's a bit hard to feel excited when you're applying for something that is six months away and doesn't feel quite real yet. It's a bit hard to feel excited when you've been through hundreds of hard-to-navigate and too-much-text university websites trying to work out which university you want to go to. Its a bit hard to feel excited when you've had to dispatch email after email to get approval for subjects you only vaguely know you want to take. Its a bit hard to write a passionate essay when it's a bit hard to feel excited.
It's 3am on Friday the 26th November, and I am excited. The printer finally put out, and everything is sitting all in the pile in glossy hard-copy. It feels important that I finally have something tangible to prove... to prove what? To prove that there is a pot of gold at the end of the impossible rainbow? Something like that. I am at last excited. Too excited to sleep.
It's 9am on Friday the 26th November, and I press the "All Enquiries" button inside the student centre. A paper ticket with "26/11/10 8:57am NUMBER 001. Please wait for your number to be called at the service desk." prints out. I stare at it for a second. The last time I had one of these tickets the number had been 457 and the number showing at the desk had been 340, and it had been an hour later after I had left for an appointment and come back that my number had been called at the desk. It seems almost ironic that I should be the first in at the student centre when I've been pining for all my last few things to end. I take the ticket.
"Are you number one?" the lady asks me after she boots up the computer.
"Yes. I have my exchange application."
"I'll give it to that guy over there."
The guy flicks through the forms "Is it signed... ah yes. Okay thanks!"
"Uh... is that all?"
"Yup. You're hear from us in the next few weeks."
I walk away a little dazed and very purposelessly. At last, at last it's all over. But what do I do with myself now?
*Thresherman's Bakehouse: best reasonably priced good food place to eat around uni. It's on Faraday Street just beyond the tram stop and you can get anything: pasta, roast, soup, lasgnia, pizza, pie, sandwich, cake, icecream, cookies, milkshakes, fresh juice, coffee, beer, wine, oh and bread. Not to mention that it is also open all day until late at night, and has a nice relaxed atmosphere. What more could you want (other than beanbags)?
Stress! Hello old friend, I haven't seen you since the exam period! What was that, a week or two ago? I have no idea really, I just know it wasn't that long ago...
Anyway. Finally I've got all my results back for Semester 2, and I've gone and failed bloody Chemistry, haven't I? And of course I am only able to view these results after the final day for re-enrolment. I've emailed my student centre, hopefully they will take pity on me, and also hopefully not slap me with a fine for not being able to see results that weren't even posted yet ughhhhhh. A little messed up, no?
So, the Summer Semester. Basically, that translates to cramming a Semester-long subject into less than two months - in other words, one lecture everyday, and in the case of Chem 2, two tutorials a week and one 3 hour prac a week. Some holiday this turned out to be. I'm just concerned that I'm going to have to take a day or two off for events I've already planned - no old dead Chemist will prevent me from seeing Tool live. *shakes fist in vague direction of Europe.*
Another thing to be stressed about! During my first year of university, I've been paying board at my Granny's - ie, I've had someone do most of the cleaning and the cooking for me. Well-p, I'm moving out possibly, into an apartment on the opposite side of the city to where I currently live and am not even slightly familiar with, with one of my favourite friends and her boyfriend (whom I don't know that well, relatively, but he seems like a likeable geek. This I can live with.). Stress. I've been filling out forms like a madman, trying to make sure I don't miss deadlines, etc. Blegh. That is all. Once I'm actually settled in, it should be good though... Here's hoping.
Want more stress? Mum has put up a bungalow in my old home, and this is my room for when I'm not at my term address. Moving all my crap in here was hard enough, since it is quite a small room (even if I didn't have to share with my sister), and not well enough furnished to hold all my crap. Today we went and got my belongings from my term address. So. Yeah. Basically my floor is covered. I struggle to cross my room. If I want to put it away I have to throw things out - which is extremely dumb since I'll probably be moving by the end of the month.
Christmas. Can't afford anything for anyone, pretty much. Yay for being a student. :(
Stress? You like that stuff, huh? Bit of gossip then.
Have you read any of my previous blogs, in which a total douchebag is mentioned? Total Douchebag is still total douchebag, except he's a total douchebag trying to convince me and everyone I am close to that he is not a total douchebag. This would merely amuse me, except for the fact that I can't work out why he's messing with me in this manner.
That story in brief: I told him I liked him. He took advantage of this fact. He gave me nothing but epic - nay, EPIC - phonebills and a reason to not study. He pissed off to Thailand to get with one of my best friends (not that he hadn't told me he was going to do this, basically) and proceeded to rub it in my face. One of my friends gets wind of this story, and emails him about it, angrily.
So, he contacts me all apologetically, and posts a faccebook status that apologises vaguely to someone "very dear to [him]" which makes him look like a hero amongst the people who don't have a clue about the whole messed up situation. Douchebag returns and acts basically exactly as he did before, trying oh-so-very-hard to stay friends with me, to a point where it's just weird.
If anyone has any kind of advice for me right now, that would be lovely. I'm going to go read a nice fantasy novel with a happy ending.
And I could not leave you without giving you the recipe that was the first non-packet cake that I made in about week 8 of this semester. It changed my life, and my lifted my defeated spirits during that mid-semester hump, it's a really easy cake that is simple but delicious and doesn't even make you feel guilty. So if you ever need an excuse to get away from your desk: shopping for carrots, lemons and nutmeg.
And if you are ever feeling bogged down in the middle of swotvac with a truckload of work to get through before an exam, here is the ultimate sound track to help you get through it:
(I was unable to trace the source of this recipe, a friend gave me a hand written copy. I think it may have been from a magazine.)
Ingredients:
- ¾ cup SR flour
- ½ cup plain flour
- ½ tsp bicarb soda
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp ground nutmeg
- ½ cup brown sugar
- 1½ cups grated carrot (~2 large carrots)
- 2 eggs, lightly beaten
- ½ cup sour cream
Cream Cheese Frosting:
- 60g packaged cream cheese, softened
- 30g soft butter
- 1 tsp grated lemon rind
- 1½ cups icing sugar
Method:
Grease a 20cm ring pan, line base with paper; grease paper. Sift flours, soda, cinnamon and nutmeg into bowl; stir in sugar and carrot. Combine oil, eggs and sour cream; stir into flour mixture. Pour mixture into prepared pan, bake in moderately slow oven for ≈50mins. (140˚C fan force, 160˚C conventional) Turn onto sire rack to cool. When cold, spread w frosting, decorate with walnut halves.
Cream Cheese Frosting :
Beat cream cheese, butter and lemon rind in small bowl with electric mixer until light and fluffy, gradually beat in sifted icing sugar; beat until combined. (keeping time: 4days)
Jinghan Says:
This cake is just as nice with some icing sugar, or vanilla dusting sugar dusted over it, if you can't be bothered making the cream cheese frosting. (I still have half a tub of left over cream cheese left in my fridge...)
Now that I have captured your attention with the words "microwave", "chocolate", "mug" and "cake" all in the same title...
After a week, nay, two weeks of being a complete study-hermit, Jinghan finds herself with a predicament. What should she have for breakfast? Weetbix with hot milk, honey and cinnamon* is gorgeous, but after eating the same thing every morning, followed by the same routine of sitting in front of your desk for many hours, one feels like it's more than due time for a change, something to mark the fact that the bulk** of my exams are over.
This cake is dedicated to all you poor souls who have been eyeing the pictures of cake but are still too frightened by the deep dark dangerous depths of that place referred to as the Kitchen. If I can manage to make this in the wee hours of a Saturday morning (ie. 9am) then anyone*** can manage this simple but yummy cake. I must admit I was a little bit sceptical about how a microwave would produce a cake, even as I put my mug of chocolate mush into the microwave, but "kazam!" 2.5 minutes later, there it was: a cake in my mug. (All I was left to wonder then was how I could have a mug of milk to have with it.) I will warn you that its a pretty filly cake, I haven't managed to finish mine yet.
Recipe from www.sortedfood.com
Ingredients:
- 2 tbsp SR flour (not heaped or level – but in between)
- 2 tbsp castor sugar
- 1 tbsp cocoa
- 1 tsp instant coffee powder
- 1 small egg
- 1 tbsp milk
- 1 tbsp sunflower oil
- few choc buttons
Method:
- grab a large mug.
- spoon the dry ingredients into the mug and mix well.
- crack in the egg and whisk to combine with a fork.
- drizzle in the milk and oil and stir.
- drop in a few choc buttons.
- place into a microwave and cook for 2 ½ mins on full power.
- leave to rest for 1 minute then eat with lashings of cream or ice cream.
Jinghan Says:
It's quite a muted cake, so if you like your cakes sweet, add maybe a half spoon more of sugar. Do not be shy with the chocolate buttons. The cake is a little bit dry, so have it with a coffee, glass of milk or just lots of cream. It's a filling cake, so you could even get away with half the recipe if you're looking for something more cup-cake sized.
p.s. Penguin mug!
*If you hate mornings, you MUST try this.
**Still one more to go (informatics), but all the big heavy subjects (maths, physics, 2800 word breadth essay) are over!
*** Conditions apply, see back of packet for details
It really doesn't feel like I've just finished my first year of University. Assuming I pass my subjects - which seems increasingly less likely the more I work out what I should already know - I will have only another two years of my Undergrad degree to go. Judging by how quickly this year has gone by, I will blink and suddenly have my B.Sc. Brilliant.
It has been a good year. Full of tough love. But love nonetheless!
Despite the lows, which have often made it difficult to get some actual studying done (Should Shannon be studying now..? No comment...) it's the highs that have really made my first year of University wonderful. And hey. Without the lows, you can't appreciate the highs, right?
Here's a list of stuff that has defined this first year:
- Meeting new (lovely and otherwise) people. More importantly, realising that I'm not nearly as shy as I used to think I was. Realising that people are very easy to meet; embrace the awkwardness!
- A totally new environment. At the start of the year I was catapulted (the mental image right there, hee hee.) into a totally foreign environment. I'm from the sticks! I've never even moved homes before! The University of Melbourne is comparatively huge - so many people, so many niches, so many things to discover. Melbourne in itself is beautiful. Granted I haven't left the country, but I feel so connected to this city - the random works of art, the fashion which ranges from quirky to catastrophic, the laid-back, beautiful days which inspire you to go for long walks to nowhere - I don't think I would want to study anywhere else.
- Changing as a person. I knew that this year would change me (country girl in big city situation, clichéd yet true...). But no one could have prepared me for how much. I've never been in a situation where I've had to fully manage myself, down to every detail; money, meetings, lectures, cleaning, freeeeeaking Centreliiiiiink, etc.
I've never been used and manipulated by someone, and this year I've learned to deal with that and turn it into a positive learning experience, despite how utterly shattered I was, and am. I've never realised how truly I love my friends, and how far I'll go for them, despite how they sometimes annoy the crap outta me. Hell, I thought I was a loner up until this year. Nope. I thought I was smart enough not to ever fall for a total tossbag. Nope. I thought coming to Melbourne would make me more motivated to study... Ha, ha!
- Learning to heal. I was depressed for a while, as you may have read from a blog back or two. And as above, I was a puppet for a narcissistic manipulator for a while. Realising that you're not worthless at times like these takes a bit of strength, and also you eventually discover that you really should put yourself first. No one else can do that for you. You're in control, baby.
- ... Study? Well. I can't say I've done much studying. Done a fair bit of cramming though, and in fact I should be doing that now... Since I still have no idea what the difference between a chlorarachniophyte and a choanoflagellate is, much less pronounce/spell them. So maybe next year I'll learn to study! YAY! I guess I'll have to keep you posted on how well cramming works for me...
It's been a good year. Tough. But I wouldn't take a moment back. No regrets. Learn from mistakes. ANDSTUDYFERGODSAKE.
Totally unrelated: Supraesophageal Ganglion is the coolest name for a band ever. If it could be pronounced by mere mortals.
And here's something to make you think.
The way in which change occurs so gradually is one which remains a constant source of stimulation. It feels like just yesterday that a new life was starting, in a new city, a new educational experience, new social circumstances. My final years of high school seemed to pass so slowly, and now university is just flying by. It feels like just yesterday that I was writing my first blog of the year, of the strange feeling of a lonely college dorm and an eerie north-facing room, yet this same dorm now has become one in which I struggle to find moments of peace and independence. The mystique of tertiary study has all but worn-off - the motivation aquired from a certain novelty factor now replaced with motivation acquired from a fear of being trapped in an arts degree forever.
Having just seen the new film 'Social Networking', I was reminded just how dominant Facebook has become in my life. I remember a time when it was still just another craze, similar to any other craze of popular culture. However it occurred to me that I have probably checked my Facebook at least once a day for the last 18 months, and rely on it heavily to maintain relations with those in different cities, different countries, and share any kind of information or news cheapily and efficiently even with those whom I make direct contact with on a day-to-day basis. It really does appear that it has become another technological advancement that we rely on, in the same manner as a mobile phone, a camera or an MP3 player.
Writing about change is inevitably going to feel reduntant, and thanks to a certain American presidential campaign, clichéd, however such reflection is needed to appreciate why things are the way they are.
The Wombats - Tokyo (Vampires & Wolves) - the Wombats latest song , check it out.
Hola, hola, my stunnungly attrative readers!
I actually have big news this time around.
I am no longer a collegian. On Tuesday night, in the pouring rain, I dragged a giant bag of dresses and blankets through the puddle-splashing streets of Parkville and North Melbourne to my own home. The kind of home which isn't governed by a Principal, where there are no rules about wearing pyjamas after nine a.m., and where bedrooms don't have numbered doors. Yes, my dears, I'm living in a proper studenty sharehouse, renting with two other blue-bicycle-riding vegetarians. With our green door, milk crates and rickety furniture, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.
Now please, don't get me wrong, I adored my time at JCH, and would highly recommend college-living to anyone starting out at uni, especially if you're a bit anxious about meeting people and getting used to this city and uni life. College, especially such a small and close-knit college like JCH, gives an invaluable network of support which was crucial to my settling into this new life. Nonetheless, I feel ready for something a bit more like the real world, and having to fret about rent and food and whether our house will flood completely, I feel like I've got that.
Last night I was chatting with a college friend of mine (we may have been sitting, tipsy and wide-eyed on a park bench, but that's beside the point) about the grand schemes of life, and I admitted that I feel ridiculously adult. I'm still legally a child for a few more weeks - and yet I feel like I've shouldered all kinds of responsibilities and opportunities that most 17-years-olds don't, and it's been an entirely positive thing. I've got an amazing house, a job I genuinely enjoy, a beautiful girlfriend, and a course which fascinates [and frustrates] me. I feel like if I was given the choice of reconfiguring my life however I chose, this is exactly what I'd select. This thought is both liberating and terrifying, the future always looming a little threateningly on the horizon.
This year has been a huge one for me, in so many ways. Moving three thousand kilometres away from my established life and starting more-or-less from scratch has been an immense challenge, but I can't imagine living any other way now. At times I've been teeth-gnashingly regretful of leaving my friends and favourite haunts, but the more time I spend at uni, in Melbourne, and with the astonishing new people I've met, the more I fall madly in love with this new way of being.
I feel like, now that first year is over, I should be able to come up with some succinct, accessible list of pieces of advice for future students, outlining how to Reach Your Potential and Enjoy Life to the Max and so on, but I really don't feel qualified to do so. So any potential Melbourners reading, just give it a whirl. Have fun, and don't be too much of a douche. Life at uni here is bureaucratic, exhausting, stimulating and potentially fabulous. Make it yours!
Adios, amigos. It's been a pleasure.
I guess it was the nostalgia attached to finishing my classes for the year, but I decided to skim through my first few posts of this year. And found this:
And this, after escaping the rehearsal, was how I found myself travelling home at 7:27pm after my first day at university, feeling like reality had slapped me in the face a little too hard. I certainly wasn’t in high school any more, I told my imaginary Toto. Before the summer I had thought that I knew exactly who I was and my place in the world, but now that I realised the world was hell of a lot bigger than I thought I felt like I had been knocked back to square one. I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be. Never had I felt so young and ignorant.
It was what I had written at the end of my first day of uni. So much has changed. Exactly everything I wrote then has changed.
Compared to day one there's a comfortable familiarity to the journey to and from uni. As I walk around uni, there's a comfortable familiarity in the surroundings. There's a comfortable familiarity in the people that I see, smile and wave at. There's a comfortable familiarity to the feel of being in my own skin.
It's only when I read those early posts again that I realised: I have changed. My view of the world has changed. And it's not an unpleasant realisation at all.
I came into uni feeling "young and ignorant" and not having a clue where I fit in, in this bigger, more real world. I have to admit that I chose Science at Melbourne because it was the easy and obvious option. I knew I didn't want to do commerce, or medicine, or arts - they were just things I had no passion for. I was a bit interested in IT but not willing to declare it the cornerstone of my life yet, nor willing to let go of maths because it came so easily to me. What else was I going to do but Science at Melbourne? It was the perfect course for me, one that would buy me time to think about the consequences of life more seriously, while letting me dabble in all the things that I thought I liked without forcing me to decide what I would do for the rest of my life. I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. The idea of saying something out loud, putting it down concretely scared me shitless. Sure there were expectations, everyone, including myself, had their expectations of me, but expectation is not the same as having a vision for your future.
But now? I have a vision. And it makes me feel empowered. For once, I'm not avoiding it. For once, the more I think about it, the more sure I feel that it is what I want to do. I want to teach. I want to teach! I shall shout it out from the roof of the Richard Berry building without fear: I want to teach! I want to know topics so well that students can have absolute faith in me. I want to inspire young people, not only to learn, but to discover things about themselves. I want to show people that they can enjoy things that they thought were out of their reach (maths!).
And yet, without everything that happened in this year, I could not have reached this conclusion. I needed this year to clear my head of petty academic goals, and to really think about my life. My favourite quote from the film, The Curious Case of Benjamine Button: "... and to think I was actually getting paid for something I would have happily done for free*." I think it is the perfect expression of what happiness should be. So long as I have a place to live and enough food to survive, I'd teach for nothing, and be happy and feel perfectly myself. It surprises and excites me that I feel so sure about this now, when I was so unsure at the beginning of the year. I don't know how many times I had said to people "uh.. maybe I want to go into teaching afterwards, but I guess I have three years to work it out." before I realised that I didn't need the three years.
What made me realise? I think it was just being at uni. Just being around people with big ambitions, people with humble ambitions, people not afraid to think about reality in a concrete way. Being around people who were as passionate about the same subjects as me, which allowed me to learn to be comfortable with myself. Because that was the real hurdle wasn't it? Allowing myself to realise who I am. Who I really want to be. I was scared that if I said, " I want to teach secondary-school maths" people would try and convince me that I could do better than that. But it wasn't what I said that mattered but how I said it. And now, I can say it with such conviction that it wouldn't even occur to anyone to persuade me otherwise. Or if they do, it wouldn't shake my resolution at all.
Back in day one I had never felt more "young and ignorant" but now I've never felt so excited about life. Getting out there and putting my mark on the world. I'm learning stuff for the beauty and love of it. I'm gathering knowledge so that one day I may create my own. That young and ignorant me still has a long way to go, but I think I've grown up a lot in just this year.
Back in day one of classes I was exhausted and scared travelling home form uni at 7:27pm. Tonight, on the last day of classes I was still at uni at 9:15pm, after performing with the Student Union Voices Chior for the Union Theatre awards night. I turn to my friends, one of them a friend I'm still close with from back in high school, one of them a new friend I met just this semester but have already come to know really well, and I ask them, "Hey do you want to go to Lygon Street and get some ice-cream?"
And we walk out into the warm night air, and what a beautiful night it is in deed to end the semester on.
Note from the Author: Stay posted, I'm doubting that this blog addiction of mine will go away that easily. I'm sure this will not be the last post you'll get from me.
*working on a tug boat for six pence a day
I missed my entire last week of my first year of uni.
For the past two weeks-ish, I've had a cold and not one, but TWO ear infections. My body hates me. So I'm trying to get extensions for everything, as I've been able to do nothing. Blah. :(
But overall, a great first year. Thoroughly enjoyable. I love Melbourne Uni, and anyone in Year 12 considering coming here definitely should. All I hope is that next year I'll be able to make some sort of decision as to what I want to do with my life. I'm definitely going to choose the enriched major instead of the double major, but I still don't really know what I want to do. I don't think I want to be a journalist. My problem is that I know what I *don't* want to do, but not what I do want to do. Working at a TV station or a publishing house would be pretty cool, though. I guess we'll see what happens.
It's been a pleasure blogging/not really blogging a lot this year. I hope that my sporadic posts have provided enough insight into the mind of a first-year Media and Communications student. Good luck to everyone for exams etc!
Sorry this post isn't better, my head is filled with mucus. Might see you next year in Back for Seconds? We'll see!
Adieu,
Cristina.
P.S.
Dudes, we totally got through our first year of uni! Fist-bump!
Tomorrow is the last day of University for the year.
Which means, if I pass my exams in two weeks, I will have completed a year of University. What a strange thought...
Although, given that I did only start properly studying today, maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up too much. Chemistry sucks like that.
I am wondering, at the moment, whether or not I've passed the practical component of Genetics and Chemistry this semester. I can't seem to find a way to find out. I know I've been doing very poorly in them, dragging myself along half-dead in the morning, rarely asking for help (because when I do ask for help, it's a dumb question and the tutors treat me with disdain accordingly, SIGH) and barely paying attention to the content or the compulsory preparatory materials. Genetics I've probably passed. Chemistry... Well. I've seen my results. And they're not pretty. But then, my tutor for Chemistry was not the easiest to understand. Or the easiest to get assistance from. Or the easiest to get information from, such as - what do I need to include in this report? What are you marking us on? Should I do this this way? Why are you over there flirting with that guy when I'm getting acid everywhere? - and so on.
SIGH.
Meanwhile. Having started exam prep today - ohshitohshitohshitohshitIHAVESOMUCHTOLEARN - I can honestly tell you that even with only three subjects to worry about, I have plenty to worry about. Thus I am writing a blog about that.
... Bored of talking about subjects. Here are some complaints!
Now! Anyone remember that crush I had on that Douchebag? Oh loyal and attentive readers, of course you do! I referred to him as The Bastard, probably. I'll have to check back... Ah, who cares. Anyway, he's off in Thailand with two of my best friends, one of whom being the object of his affections (who may or may not return the sentiment but who knows! The chances are good, apparently...) They've all left me here on my lonesome to study my brains out, while they all go eat Thai food, go snorkeling, shop epically and do god-knows what else I REFUSE TO THINK ABOUT IT, BAH.
Found out the other day that Virgin have stuffed up my bill again, I've rang up and they have a perfectly wanky explanation which says it is my fault because I changed my plan halfway through the month, but just under $500 IS KIND OF A BIG DEAL FOR ME. I don't get that much from Centrelink in two weeks fergodsake. And it's all The Bastard's fault. Talking to me every-bloody-night. Should have just let me be. But I am an idiot. And he is a jerk.
Prooooobably shouldn't have let him seduce me... I wish he wouldn't lead me on. I feel used.
On the other hand, I feel like such a good person for not getting in the way of the relationship he plans to have with my friend. Even though he's being a damn fool about it - possibly following her to freaking Western Australia next year if he has to. Hooray. At least he'll be gone.
-____-
Oh well. This is a good time in my life to be making dumb mistakes. It's appropriate. Some consolation, huh!
For the good news, I am once again on good terms with my ex. He seems to be in a much better way. It's a good thing.
Embrace the nightmare, children.
AND STUDY FERGODSAKE, ZAITSEV'S RULE DOESN'T LEARN ITSELF.
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