So, it's been kind of a shit day.
I couldn't be bothered to go into class today. Despite actually being up early enough, I really just couldn't be bothered. You know, back in highschool and 6thform I was always a good kid, never skipped a class and only took time off ill if I was practically dying (seriously, I had one day off in year 11 and I was literally coughing up blood), I worked really hard even if deadlines have never been my strong point. Now, I really just can't see the point. Honestly I'm sick of learning, and I'm sick of school, I'm sick of writing essays and I'm sick of going to class, and I'm having a really hard time seeing what the point of it all is.
So, I sat in my bed on the youtubes and listened to crappy music all day and got absolutely nothing done. I took some time to see about ordering a new chest binder online, and that's where thing's got real sucky. See, whether I like it or not, I'm pretty big chested. Okay, I'm ridiculously large chested, to the point it brings me up at least two t-shirt sizes. It is not possible to find chest binders in my size. I mean, seriously, not possible. And in the unlikely chance I do, after a couple of hours of searching, manage to stumble across a chest binder in my size it's going to cost me £50 and then another £50 to have it shipped over from the US, and I can't afford to drop £100 on a chest binder.
Before coming out tonight I decided to see if the two chest binders that I already own but don't wear because they hardly fit and I can't breath in them still fit and the short answer is no. The long answer is that I couldn't even get more that a single fastening done up, and if I had somehow managed to do them up I would probably have cracked a rib. So, basically, unless I come into some money or wake up and find that they've shrunk, I'm never going to be able to bind my chest properly. The thing is before I can start hormones I'll be expected to live as a male, which I'm already doing within certain context but I can't correct everybody who calls me ma'am, and I'm getting sick of having to explain to everybody I first meet that yes, I really am a man, even if I don't look like one, and I'm getting sick of people then trying to claim I'm not if I haven't started hormones yet, or if I don't bind, or that I'm just not, full stop. Mostly, I'm just sick of it, and I want it over.
I'm at the pub now, since I actually did bother to get out of bed. There is too much alcohol and too many packets of painkillers in my rooms and honestly it was looking a little too tempting to do something stupid. So, as an alternative to sitting in my room and drinking that nice pink vodka I got myself since I was working on valentine's day rather than going out and getting drunk (yes, my life sucks, but vodka makes everything better) and taking more than the recommended dose of aspirin I decided to remove that option. Common sense and all. I'm going to be honest here: While I currently have no intention of killing myself, and if I did I would certainly pick a more creative method than overdose, I rather like that lightheaded feeling after you take a few too many painkillers and as crazy as it sounds, at times like this, I almost like that really unpleasant burning in my gut (and the dizziness and the vomiting and the occasionally vomiting blood) that comes from paracetamol since I'm pretty damn allergic to it, and I know that this is a really bad idea and definitely NOT healthy and if somebody else were pulling the same stupid shit as I do I would be more than happy to tell them so. Here's the thing, though. Just because I know something's a bad idea that won't stop me doing it, and sometimes the best solution really is just removing the option. So I'm trying to put off going home since I don't want to give myself more opportunities to be a dumbass.
I had hoped that ice-cream might help, but it didn't. Honestly, I'm just having something of an episode, and I'll be fine once it cools off, but I've learned the best way to cope with bad days is with some creative damage control. I'll have snapped out of it by morning.
I don't know why I still do this whole rambling on the internet while I'm feeling shitty, because in theory it doesn't fix anything, but it helps a little, and I suppose that's the important part. As I said, damage control. That's basically just what this is.
Monday, 17 February 2014
Strippers...
Okay, at some point I will post about The Acellevin Project, but for now I have more interesting (and slightly intoxicated) things to post about.
So, first thing's first, I do actually have a bucket list. Not a "I need to do everything on this list before I die" sort of bucket list, but a list of things that I would, at some point, like to experience. I like experiences. While I prefer good experiences (obviously), I like to gain as many different experiences as I can, and there are certain experiences that I would like to at some point experience (not entirely coherent now, I know). One of these was going to a strip club.
First thing's first, societal context - there is an idea amongst a lot of people that strip clubs are just something that men go to, and that all men enjoy strippers. While I'm often the first to call out this sort of bullshit, the fact is that there is a part of me, not only as a man but also as someone who enjoys experiencing different things, that wants to be able to say that I've had this experience. I am currently at university, which is probably one of the most convenient times to experience such a thing
So, personal context - the town where I'm living, which is the one nearest to my university, has a strip club. I've seen it a few times and have considered going in, but I wasn't entirely sure of going into a strip club on my own (because that would imply that I'm some sort of weirdo). I was out at a meal with the creative writing society tonight, and having had a few already, I figured why the heck not.
See, I have this system. I currently have more than one bank account, but only carry the bank card and know the PIN number for one of them, and most of my money is in the other one. This is to stop me going overboard when I'm drunk, and to keep my rent money safe from being spent on non-rent things. If I'm sober enough that I can function internet banking then I'm sober enough that I can be trusted with my money. So far it's been a reliable system. Tonight I was sober enough to function internet banking (despite not being in the slightest bit sober).
So, I went to the strip club.
First impression was that it was... well... dull. I was a little disappointed by the lack of pole dancers, because I quite like watching pole dancing, but really I suppose beggars can't be choosers here. I was already pretty drunk so I didn't buy alcohol, so it didn't end up being to expensive, but all-in-all it was mostly just dull. While that may be, in part, because it was such a small strip club, the fact is that it just wasn't that interesting.
However, there is one thing that absolutely has to be noted here. See, whether I like it or not, biologically speaking, I am female. That tends to colour people's assumptions of me and behaviour towards me. Unfortunately, in the bar and club context, that seems to draw the attention of a lot of weirdos. See, people see a woman doing anything perceived as sexual as they assume that that gives them some sort of right to govern her sexuality, or they seem to think that a woman implying that she enjoys sexual things (such as by going to a strip club) has some sort of duty to do sexual things with them, because clearly a woman has no right to agency over her own body and sexuality.
Yeah, can't you tell I encountered a creep?
Within less than five minute of being in the club I had been cornered by the aforementioned creep, who insisted on harassing me the entire time I was there. Despite telling him, in no uncertain terms, that I am transgendered and thus he was technically hitting on a guy (he claimed to be bisexual; I don't know whether this was the truth or not, and I really don't care, he should have gotten the hint and fucked off) and that I have no interest in men (A lie, but he should have accepted it and fucked off, not taken it as some sort of challenge), as well as explaining to him, quite bluntly, that I was just not fucking interested in him, he did not get the hint at all.
Here's the thing: one, whether I'm actually attracted to men or not, the fact is that someone telling you that they're not attracted to your gender is not a challenge. It means you have absolutely zero chance with them. When this happens, cut your losses and move on. Don't continue to harass the poor girl. The fact is that whenever I've told people (which, admittedly, I'm beginning to realise may be a lie) that I'm not attracted to women, women always accept that and move on to somebody else. It should not be nearly as challenging for men to do the same as it appears to be. That men seem to think that all women have some sort of responsibility to be attracted to them is such a level of entitlement that it's ridiculous. It's like a white person thinking that all black people are obligated to clean their house - fucking ridiculous and it should not be stood for.
Two: Even if a woman is attracted to your gender, that doesn't necessarily mean that she's attracted to you, and to assume that she immediately is is just plain arrogant. You may be extremely ugly, a shitty person, or just really, really creepy. Or maybe she just isn't in the mood. But if a woman says that she isn't interested, just accept it an move on. Don't harass her. That makes you an arsehole, and a damn creepy one at that.
Three: Just because a woman's actions or dress implies that she is sexually active, that doesn't mean that she has any responsibility to engage in sex with you in any way. If she says no then is means no, even if she said yes (or you think she said yes) to Bob down the road. If a woman says no then back the fuck off an leave her alone, DO NOT harass her.
That this even needs to be said in this day and age bothers me greatly.
And, men, if you view this sort of creep harassing a woman, following her about and cornering her in a bar, please for fuck sake GET INVOLVED. Tell him to back off. Fetch a bouncer if you need to. Offer to sit with the girl to make sure that he doesn't come back (without making any inappropriate advances, obviously), but don't let this sort of behaviour go on unchecked because IT. IS. NOT. Acceptable.
Now, that isn't to say that men don't get harassed in bars or that women don't harass people in bars, because they do, but it occurs far less frequently. All the same, the same principles stand. I have to say, though, never have I had a woman take "I'm not into girls" as some sort of challenge, not has a woman ever tried to follow me out of a bar.
I will also say this: "I am not interested", "I am a man", "I'm only attracted to women", "Go away and leave me alone" may not work, but apparently "Stop harassing me or I will call the police" does. Which only proves that these sorts of creeps know that what they're doing is wrong, since if they didn't (and really, how can you not know that trying to follow somebody home is wrong?) they wouldn't be terrified of the prospect of police involvement.
And to think, some people try to claim that sexism doesn't still exist. I'm beginning to understand why my friend thinks that only trans- people should be allowed to decide policies concerning gender. We actually have a fairly good idea of what it's like for both sides.
Another thing of note - I have now been judged by a stripper. It is a special sort of unpleasant when you've seen that "Eww, a tranny" look on the face of a stripper, if only because, given the amount of stigma around that job (a rant for another day) you would think that they may know better than to judge others. You would be wrong. I imagine that this is something that few others besides trans- people and most likely those living with mental illness (blog about that coming up) have to worry about, and let me tell you, it sucks.
Now, onto the positives, since there are actually some. While it was pretty dull, it was an experience, and as I said above I am rather fond of those. I suppose you could almost consider me some sort of collector of experiences. It was my first trip to a strip club and I received my first lap dance, and that's an experience. The dancer (not the one who looked so horrified when she realised I'm transgendered) was actually pretty pleasant, and the bar itself was nice enough, even if it was a little boring. Is it something that I would do again? Probably not, and if I did I would most definitely bring a wing-man to help keep the creeps at bay.
(And, at this point, I gots sleepy and fell asleep, and completely forgot about this update for a whole week. My bad. I will now finish it sober)
So, long story short, I have been judged by a stripper (yay me) I really dislike creeps in bars, I may no longer be allowed to call myself gay (I suppose it won't do me any harm here to point out that bisexuals do exist, and bisexual men get a particularly bad hand in society and the media) and I got to tick something off my bucket list. And, apparently, drunk me doesn't spell all that bad, so at least that's something. Good day, my lovelies, and for heaven's sake please pay attention to what drunk me said above about creeps in bars, because somebody seriously needs to start talking sense on that front.
So, first thing's first, I do actually have a bucket list. Not a "I need to do everything on this list before I die" sort of bucket list, but a list of things that I would, at some point, like to experience. I like experiences. While I prefer good experiences (obviously), I like to gain as many different experiences as I can, and there are certain experiences that I would like to at some point experience (not entirely coherent now, I know). One of these was going to a strip club.
First thing's first, societal context - there is an idea amongst a lot of people that strip clubs are just something that men go to, and that all men enjoy strippers. While I'm often the first to call out this sort of bullshit, the fact is that there is a part of me, not only as a man but also as someone who enjoys experiencing different things, that wants to be able to say that I've had this experience. I am currently at university, which is probably one of the most convenient times to experience such a thing
So, personal context - the town where I'm living, which is the one nearest to my university, has a strip club. I've seen it a few times and have considered going in, but I wasn't entirely sure of going into a strip club on my own (because that would imply that I'm some sort of weirdo). I was out at a meal with the creative writing society tonight, and having had a few already, I figured why the heck not.
See, I have this system. I currently have more than one bank account, but only carry the bank card and know the PIN number for one of them, and most of my money is in the other one. This is to stop me going overboard when I'm drunk, and to keep my rent money safe from being spent on non-rent things. If I'm sober enough that I can function internet banking then I'm sober enough that I can be trusted with my money. So far it's been a reliable system. Tonight I was sober enough to function internet banking (despite not being in the slightest bit sober).
So, I went to the strip club.
First impression was that it was... well... dull. I was a little disappointed by the lack of pole dancers, because I quite like watching pole dancing, but really I suppose beggars can't be choosers here. I was already pretty drunk so I didn't buy alcohol, so it didn't end up being to expensive, but all-in-all it was mostly just dull. While that may be, in part, because it was such a small strip club, the fact is that it just wasn't that interesting.
However, there is one thing that absolutely has to be noted here. See, whether I like it or not, biologically speaking, I am female. That tends to colour people's assumptions of me and behaviour towards me. Unfortunately, in the bar and club context, that seems to draw the attention of a lot of weirdos. See, people see a woman doing anything perceived as sexual as they assume that that gives them some sort of right to govern her sexuality, or they seem to think that a woman implying that she enjoys sexual things (such as by going to a strip club) has some sort of duty to do sexual things with them, because clearly a woman has no right to agency over her own body and sexuality.
Yeah, can't you tell I encountered a creep?
Within less than five minute of being in the club I had been cornered by the aforementioned creep, who insisted on harassing me the entire time I was there. Despite telling him, in no uncertain terms, that I am transgendered and thus he was technically hitting on a guy (he claimed to be bisexual; I don't know whether this was the truth or not, and I really don't care, he should have gotten the hint and fucked off) and that I have no interest in men (A lie, but he should have accepted it and fucked off, not taken it as some sort of challenge), as well as explaining to him, quite bluntly, that I was just not fucking interested in him, he did not get the hint at all.
Here's the thing: one, whether I'm actually attracted to men or not, the fact is that someone telling you that they're not attracted to your gender is not a challenge. It means you have absolutely zero chance with them. When this happens, cut your losses and move on. Don't continue to harass the poor girl. The fact is that whenever I've told people (which, admittedly, I'm beginning to realise may be a lie) that I'm not attracted to women, women always accept that and move on to somebody else. It should not be nearly as challenging for men to do the same as it appears to be. That men seem to think that all women have some sort of responsibility to be attracted to them is such a level of entitlement that it's ridiculous. It's like a white person thinking that all black people are obligated to clean their house - fucking ridiculous and it should not be stood for.
Two: Even if a woman is attracted to your gender, that doesn't necessarily mean that she's attracted to you, and to assume that she immediately is is just plain arrogant. You may be extremely ugly, a shitty person, or just really, really creepy. Or maybe she just isn't in the mood. But if a woman says that she isn't interested, just accept it an move on. Don't harass her. That makes you an arsehole, and a damn creepy one at that.
Three: Just because a woman's actions or dress implies that she is sexually active, that doesn't mean that she has any responsibility to engage in sex with you in any way. If she says no then is means no, even if she said yes (or you think she said yes) to Bob down the road. If a woman says no then back the fuck off an leave her alone, DO NOT harass her.
That this even needs to be said in this day and age bothers me greatly.
And, men, if you view this sort of creep harassing a woman, following her about and cornering her in a bar, please for fuck sake GET INVOLVED. Tell him to back off. Fetch a bouncer if you need to. Offer to sit with the girl to make sure that he doesn't come back (without making any inappropriate advances, obviously), but don't let this sort of behaviour go on unchecked because IT. IS. NOT. Acceptable.
Now, that isn't to say that men don't get harassed in bars or that women don't harass people in bars, because they do, but it occurs far less frequently. All the same, the same principles stand. I have to say, though, never have I had a woman take "I'm not into girls" as some sort of challenge, not has a woman ever tried to follow me out of a bar.
I will also say this: "I am not interested", "I am a man", "I'm only attracted to women", "Go away and leave me alone" may not work, but apparently "Stop harassing me or I will call the police" does. Which only proves that these sorts of creeps know that what they're doing is wrong, since if they didn't (and really, how can you not know that trying to follow somebody home is wrong?) they wouldn't be terrified of the prospect of police involvement.
And to think, some people try to claim that sexism doesn't still exist. I'm beginning to understand why my friend thinks that only trans- people should be allowed to decide policies concerning gender. We actually have a fairly good idea of what it's like for both sides.
Another thing of note - I have now been judged by a stripper. It is a special sort of unpleasant when you've seen that "Eww, a tranny" look on the face of a stripper, if only because, given the amount of stigma around that job (a rant for another day) you would think that they may know better than to judge others. You would be wrong. I imagine that this is something that few others besides trans- people and most likely those living with mental illness (blog about that coming up) have to worry about, and let me tell you, it sucks.
Now, onto the positives, since there are actually some. While it was pretty dull, it was an experience, and as I said above I am rather fond of those. I suppose you could almost consider me some sort of collector of experiences. It was my first trip to a strip club and I received my first lap dance, and that's an experience. The dancer (not the one who looked so horrified when she realised I'm transgendered) was actually pretty pleasant, and the bar itself was nice enough, even if it was a little boring. Is it something that I would do again? Probably not, and if I did I would most definitely bring a wing-man to help keep the creeps at bay.
(And, at this point, I gots sleepy and fell asleep, and completely forgot about this update for a whole week. My bad. I will now finish it sober)
So, long story short, I have been judged by a stripper (yay me) I really dislike creeps in bars, I may no longer be allowed to call myself gay (I suppose it won't do me any harm here to point out that bisexuals do exist, and bisexual men get a particularly bad hand in society and the media) and I got to tick something off my bucket list. And, apparently, drunk me doesn't spell all that bad, so at least that's something. Good day, my lovelies, and for heaven's sake please pay attention to what drunk me said above about creeps in bars, because somebody seriously needs to start talking sense on that front.
Saturday, 28 December 2013
The one where I actually bothered to go to the doctors...
It wasn't a chest infection, merely an extremely severe cold that caused me to pull abdominal muscles from all of the coughing and had me incapacitated for about a fortnight. So, yeah, it was a really bad cold.
Christmas has been an gone, and I can't say I'm not a little relieved. Christmas has this nasty habit of being far more work than it's worth, even if we did manage to avoid the drama and histrionics this year.
I've gotten all of my work in now, save for what's due in mid January, and I only have a couple of exams this year so at least I can have a little bit of a break over the holidays rather than spending the whole thing revising. Which is good, because I only just recovered from the previously mentioned cold in time to actually get all of my work in, which has just about finished me off, and I'm about to take on a pretty big project which I'm sure that I will regret and which I'm about to tell you about.
You see, starting on the first of January I plan to write a 100 word drabble every day for the entire year. Yes, that's write, EVERY. FUCKING. DAY.
Now, I know I have a habit of not following things through (I still don't know a single word of Russian besides yes and no) so that's why this is such a big thing. By putting this on the internet, it will be clear to everybody if I give up after a couple of weeks. I'm kind of hoping that will motivate me to keep at it and not fail miserably.
I've opted to call the whole thing "The Acellevin Project", as Acellevin is the name of the invented fantasy land where most of these stories will inevitably be set. I will be uploading the stories onto this blog here: http://theacellevinproject.blogspot.co.uk/ and also onto a tumblr I've created just for this purpose, if I can figure out how the whole thing works, which is at: http://theacellevinproject.tumblr.com/
While I won't make any promises that this will actually go to plan, I can say I will do my best, or, in the very least, do my best for the first few weeks. Mostly I'm just hoping this won't quite be a complete and total disaster.
And, honestly, I've no idea why I even do these things, because, let's face it, there's no way anybody is actually reading this.
Christmas has been an gone, and I can't say I'm not a little relieved. Christmas has this nasty habit of being far more work than it's worth, even if we did manage to avoid the drama and histrionics this year.
I've gotten all of my work in now, save for what's due in mid January, and I only have a couple of exams this year so at least I can have a little bit of a break over the holidays rather than spending the whole thing revising. Which is good, because I only just recovered from the previously mentioned cold in time to actually get all of my work in, which has just about finished me off, and I'm about to take on a pretty big project which I'm sure that I will regret and which I'm about to tell you about.
You see, starting on the first of January I plan to write a 100 word drabble every day for the entire year. Yes, that's write, EVERY. FUCKING. DAY.
Now, I know I have a habit of not following things through (I still don't know a single word of Russian besides yes and no) so that's why this is such a big thing. By putting this on the internet, it will be clear to everybody if I give up after a couple of weeks. I'm kind of hoping that will motivate me to keep at it and not fail miserably.
I've opted to call the whole thing "The Acellevin Project", as Acellevin is the name of the invented fantasy land where most of these stories will inevitably be set. I will be uploading the stories onto this blog here: http://theacellevinproject.blogspot.co.uk/ and also onto a tumblr I've created just for this purpose, if I can figure out how the whole thing works, which is at: http://theacellevinproject.tumblr.com/
While I won't make any promises that this will actually go to plan, I can say I will do my best, or, in the very least, do my best for the first few weeks. Mostly I'm just hoping this won't quite be a complete and total disaster.
And, honestly, I've no idea why I even do these things, because, let's face it, there's no way anybody is actually reading this.
Sunday, 8 December 2013
A Very Overdue Update
Well, I've been mostly absent on the webs for some time now. I suppose I should probably give you all some updates, hmm?
Well, where to start? I, astoundingly, didn't fail first year, so now I'm a second year university student. I'm probably going to fail this year, but oh well.
I'm also now "Officially" out of the closet as transgendered, though I'm not making a point of making it clear to everyone I meet. I made all of the necessary big steps: telling parents, setting up an appointment with a psychiatrist (not quite as awful as I was expecting), changing my name on facebook - yes, that is a big step, for those of us the appropriate age to be dependent on the interwebs, anyway.
I'm off campus this year, so now I have to pay monthly rent - really starting to feel like a grown-up now. Travel into university is a pain in the arse, but it's much quieter than being in halls.
I also somehow ended up with a twitter account, which is something I mock everybody else for having. I use it more than I would like to admit, mostly during all-nighters or while I'm on the bus.
Other than that, nothing much really has changed. This is still dull and monotonous, I've still nothing interesting to post. I'm still a shoddy writer, as shoddy musician, a shoddy fencer/archer/quidditch-player-person, I'm an exceptionally shoddy student and I'm not too good an artist either. But I suppose you learn to just accept these things and move on.
Also, I've recently come down with what is either an exceptionally severe cold or a chest infection, for which I'm actually going to go to the doctor's for once. Seriously, nothing's changed, and I've nothing new to tell you about.
Who even reads this thing, anyway?
Well, where to start? I, astoundingly, didn't fail first year, so now I'm a second year university student. I'm probably going to fail this year, but oh well.
I'm also now "Officially" out of the closet as transgendered, though I'm not making a point of making it clear to everyone I meet. I made all of the necessary big steps: telling parents, setting up an appointment with a psychiatrist (not quite as awful as I was expecting), changing my name on facebook - yes, that is a big step, for those of us the appropriate age to be dependent on the interwebs, anyway.
I'm off campus this year, so now I have to pay monthly rent - really starting to feel like a grown-up now. Travel into university is a pain in the arse, but it's much quieter than being in halls.
I also somehow ended up with a twitter account, which is something I mock everybody else for having. I use it more than I would like to admit, mostly during all-nighters or while I'm on the bus.
Other than that, nothing much really has changed. This is still dull and monotonous, I've still nothing interesting to post. I'm still a shoddy writer, as shoddy musician, a shoddy fencer/archer/quidditch-player-person, I'm an exceptionally shoddy student and I'm not too good an artist either. But I suppose you learn to just accept these things and move on.
Also, I've recently come down with what is either an exceptionally severe cold or a chest infection, for which I'm actually going to go to the doctor's for once. Seriously, nothing's changed, and I've nothing new to tell you about.
Who even reads this thing, anyway?
What I meant to post during summer
Well, this has been a hectic couple of weeks - okay, make that months, and I should really update more frequently. I finished those masks, and after I get the paint touched up in a couple of places that were chipped in transport, I'll upload some photos for you at some point.
In other news, I'm pretty sure that I've officially failed first year, and while I usually do badly despite having worked extremely hard - or, rather, that's how things used to go - this year I have entirely brought it upon myself. Honestly, I'm not even sure what's happened. I used to be extremely hard working and ambitious, with a pretty strong moral code to boot.
Now? Well, my ambitions are still to join the armed forces, but as a rate rather than an officer, which is still a respectable plan but not quite as ambitious.
I also no longer work that hard, having lost interest in... well... pretty much everything, really. I think I may have just given up at life. Honestly, I've been losing this game for a while now, and admittedly I'm beginning to wonder what the point is.
I'm back home over the summer and now need to find something to entertain myself with. I don't see it going to well, if I'm honest. I still don't have the motivation to really do anything with myself, and I've been ill. I spent some time in the west midlands, and now am down in the west country, so you might actually get some photos
I could rant about multiple different things, too, but I couldn't be bothered to do that when they happened and I can't be bothered to now.
And, in other random news, I at least had an excuse to go out and get drunk the last couple of weeks of uni. We had the SU society awards, which was conveniently a masked ball (yes, I did wear one of the home made masks, I'll let you know which when I upload the photos), and Quidditch won an award for something but I can't quite remember what. I didn't get too drunk, though, because I was ill.
Then, the Rock Society had their end of year festival/12-hour piss-up thing, and the Pagan society were there doing card readings. That was fun, but again, I was ill, and ended up going home early, and didn't get even slightly drunk.
So, yeah, I hate being ill.
EDIT: Holy shit I meant to post this near the end of the summer, forgot, it's just been sitting in my drafts and it's now almost time for the obligatory Christmas rant... Well shit...
In other news, I'm pretty sure that I've officially failed first year, and while I usually do badly despite having worked extremely hard - or, rather, that's how things used to go - this year I have entirely brought it upon myself. Honestly, I'm not even sure what's happened. I used to be extremely hard working and ambitious, with a pretty strong moral code to boot.
Now? Well, my ambitions are still to join the armed forces, but as a rate rather than an officer, which is still a respectable plan but not quite as ambitious.
I also no longer work that hard, having lost interest in... well... pretty much everything, really. I think I may have just given up at life. Honestly, I've been losing this game for a while now, and admittedly I'm beginning to wonder what the point is.
I'm back home over the summer and now need to find something to entertain myself with. I don't see it going to well, if I'm honest. I still don't have the motivation to really do anything with myself, and I've been ill. I spent some time in the west midlands, and now am down in the west country, so you might actually get some photos
I could rant about multiple different things, too, but I couldn't be bothered to do that when they happened and I can't be bothered to now.
And, in other random news, I at least had an excuse to go out and get drunk the last couple of weeks of uni. We had the SU society awards, which was conveniently a masked ball (yes, I did wear one of the home made masks, I'll let you know which when I upload the photos), and Quidditch won an award for something but I can't quite remember what. I didn't get too drunk, though, because I was ill.
Then, the Rock Society had their end of year festival/12-hour piss-up thing, and the Pagan society were there doing card readings. That was fun, but again, I was ill, and ended up going home early, and didn't get even slightly drunk.
So, yeah, I hate being ill.
EDIT: Holy shit I meant to post this near the end of the summer, forgot, it's just been sitting in my drafts and it's now almost time for the obligatory Christmas rant... Well shit...
Wednesday, 5 June 2013
Because I'm procrastinating
Can you tell I have work to do? I got a deadline date mixed up with an exam date, and didn't realise until a deadline date had passed, and haven't done an essay because I thought I had another month to do it in. I have a couple more days to get it done just to get a 40, which is the bare minimum pass mark. Yeah, this isn't going to go well.
I am simultaneously panicking and slacking off.
(Well, this was supposed to be uploaded a couple of weeks ago, but I recall the take-away got delivered and I forgot about it. Story of my life, that)
I am simultaneously panicking and slacking off.
(Well, this was supposed to be uploaded a couple of weeks ago, but I recall the take-away got delivered and I forgot about it. Story of my life, that)
Sunday, 12 May 2013
A Work of Art
So, since this is supposed to be a writing blog, but I don't really seem to be getting much writing done, I'm going to start posting pictures of art projects, too. I actually have on in progress right now, too. Well, slow progress, but you really shouldn't be so surprised by that.
I picked up some plain white masks and other supplies from The Works some weeks ago, and slowly but surely have been decorating them. So I will likely put up some photos when they're finished, since I can't actually remember the password for my Deviant Art account to put photos there.
Because, really, on the off chance that anyone actually does read this you probably want to shut up and do something interesting by now.
I picked up some plain white masks and other supplies from The Works some weeks ago, and slowly but surely have been decorating them. So I will likely put up some photos when they're finished, since I can't actually remember the password for my Deviant Art account to put photos there.
Because, really, on the off chance that anyone actually does read this you probably want to shut up and do something interesting by now.
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