Entry tags:
Entry tags:
Political correctness gone mad
"I left him, sobbing into a cage of scorpions - which aren't insects so I don't know what they were doing there - and moved on to Laura from Sloths.
LAURA: I can't stop to talk, I'm sorry, they're going absolutely beserk! Daniel put that down! They're always like this after a shift. Mandolyn, stop chasing Andrew! It's just... they're out there for 8 hours, just hanging from their toes and doing nothing, so of course, they want to let off steam. Eddie put that down! Kathryn leave him alone! Felicity will you please stop juggling! What did you want anyway?
FINNEMORE: I was just going to inquire-
LAURA: Jonathan don't you run away! Don't you dare! OK I'm sorry, look I've really got to go and catch him, I'm so sorry!
[Sound of motorbike riding into distance]
FINNEMORE: Well you're not going to catch him now he's gone on that motorbike...
LAURA: No... No I realize that. I don't know why we gave them motorbikes... It's political correctness gone mad!
FINNEMORE: What's it got to do with political correctness?
LAURA: Well, nothing! That's the point! That's why it's gone mad! Normally when people say political correctness gone mad, what they mean is "political correctness I don't agree with". But in this case, political correctness... has given some sloths a motorbike. I mean, it has actually gone mad.
I left her chasing her sloths and stumbled away into the drizzle of the evening. I seemed no further forward then when I had begun, but one of them must be the mole..."
Source: http://j-f-s-p.livejournal.com/7440.html
LAURA: I can't stop to talk, I'm sorry, they're going absolutely beserk! Daniel put that down! They're always like this after a shift. Mandolyn, stop chasing Andrew! It's just... they're out there for 8 hours, just hanging from their toes and doing nothing, so of course, they want to let off steam. Eddie put that down! Kathryn leave him alone! Felicity will you please stop juggling! What did you want anyway?
FINNEMORE: I was just going to inquire-
LAURA: Jonathan don't you run away! Don't you dare! OK I'm sorry, look I've really got to go and catch him, I'm so sorry!
[Sound of motorbike riding into distance]
FINNEMORE: Well you're not going to catch him now he's gone on that motorbike...
LAURA: No... No I realize that. I don't know why we gave them motorbikes... It's political correctness gone mad!
FINNEMORE: What's it got to do with political correctness?
LAURA: Well, nothing! That's the point! That's why it's gone mad! Normally when people say political correctness gone mad, what they mean is "political correctness I don't agree with". But in this case, political correctness... has given some sloths a motorbike. I mean, it has actually gone mad.
I left her chasing her sloths and stumbled away into the drizzle of the evening. I seemed no further forward then when I had begun, but one of them must be the mole..."
Source: http://j-f-s-p.livejournal.com/7440.html
Brexit means... something we're not quite sure about actually.
"So, let me get this straight... the leader of the opposition campaigned to stay but secretly wanted to leave, so his party held a non-binding vote to shame him into resigning so someone else could lead the campaign to ignore the result of the non-binding referendum which many people now think was just angry people trying to shame politicians into seeing they'd all done nothing to help them.
Meanwhile, the man who campaigned to leave because he hoped losing would help him win the leadership of his party, accidentally won and ruined any chance of leading because the man who thought he couldn't lose, did - but resigned before actually doing the thing the vote had been about. The man who'd always thought he'd lead next, campaigned so badly that everyone thought he was lying when he said the economy would crash - and he was, but it did, but he's not resigned, but, like the man who lost and the man who won, also now can't become leader. Which means the woman who quietly campaigned to stay but always said she wanted to leave is likely to become leader instead.
Which means she holds the same view as the leader of the opposition but for opposite reasons, but her party's view of this view is the opposite of the opposition's. And the opposition aren't yet opposing anything because the leader isn't listening to his party, who aren't listening to the country, who aren't listening to experts or possibly paying that much attention at all. However, none of their opponents actually want to be the one to do the thing that the vote was about, so there's not yet anything actually on the table to oppose anyway. And if no one ever does do the thing that most people asked them to do, it will be undemocratic and if any one ever does do it, it will be awful.
Clear?"
Source: https://www.facebook.com/benjaminblaine/posts/10153470938266707?pnref=story
Meanwhile, the man who campaigned to leave because he hoped losing would help him win the leadership of his party, accidentally won and ruined any chance of leading because the man who thought he couldn't lose, did - but resigned before actually doing the thing the vote had been about. The man who'd always thought he'd lead next, campaigned so badly that everyone thought he was lying when he said the economy would crash - and he was, but it did, but he's not resigned, but, like the man who lost and the man who won, also now can't become leader. Which means the woman who quietly campaigned to stay but always said she wanted to leave is likely to become leader instead.
Which means she holds the same view as the leader of the opposition but for opposite reasons, but her party's view of this view is the opposite of the opposition's. And the opposition aren't yet opposing anything because the leader isn't listening to his party, who aren't listening to the country, who aren't listening to experts or possibly paying that much attention at all. However, none of their opponents actually want to be the one to do the thing that the vote was about, so there's not yet anything actually on the table to oppose anyway. And if no one ever does do the thing that most people asked them to do, it will be undemocratic and if any one ever does do it, it will be awful.
Clear?"
Source: https://www.facebook.com/benjaminblaine/posts/10153470938266707?pnref=story
"We want our country back."
Is it even vaguely possible that a man living in Britain today could be pushed to the brink of murder could be pushed to murder by political debate and the political situation? I don't care where you come from; I don't care who you vote for; that's the question I've got. Can you conceive of circumstances in which somebody living in Britain today could be pushed to a point where they contemplate this sort of conduct?
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
I keep on wanting to apologise.
No, I've already said it, I don't need to say it again. #1apologyLaura
Entry tags:
RIP John x
Sophie opened the door to my bedroom to turn my light off without asking and it took my two hours to get home and last week was totally shitty and I was going to write a post about that.
But I've just had a message on Facebook about how my friend's dad has died. I knew he hadn't been well, but we hoped it would be months - perhaps a year - before it took him.
Last year after going food shopping, his dad took a step into his living room... and fell through the floor.
Except it wasn't the floor that was weakened. It was his leg bone.
Medical attention revealed he had some form of bone cancer that had settled around his spine and was unoperable. It was a question of when, not if.
I didn't know his dad very well, but whenever I met him he was also kind and humble. We happened to be in Scotland at the same time and he drove me around, bought me fish and chips, and saw me home all without a single request from me. He brought me home late one new year, and my parents thanked him by giving him some wine. I think the relationship peaked when he was in one of my dreams, in a case where he famously tried to con me by selling me hollow fruit. Regardless of how well I knew him, he was a gentle man who will be missed.
I don't know what my friend is going to do. Worse yet, I know he will shun pity and ignore any actions people take to reach out to him, I know he will try to handle it on his own, because he's an intensely private man. There's very little I can do, but I will try to do it anyway.
Makes me want to get in touch with my family. It's my dad's birthday tomorrow, so I'll give the home a phone. And perhaps Aunty Rosemary and Uncle Stephen too.
But I've just had a message on Facebook about how my friend's dad has died. I knew he hadn't been well, but we hoped it would be months - perhaps a year - before it took him.
Last year after going food shopping, his dad took a step into his living room... and fell through the floor.
Except it wasn't the floor that was weakened. It was his leg bone.
Medical attention revealed he had some form of bone cancer that had settled around his spine and was unoperable. It was a question of when, not if.
I didn't know his dad very well, but whenever I met him he was also kind and humble. We happened to be in Scotland at the same time and he drove me around, bought me fish and chips, and saw me home all without a single request from me. He brought me home late one new year, and my parents thanked him by giving him some wine. I think the relationship peaked when he was in one of my dreams, in a case where he famously tried to con me by selling me hollow fruit. Regardless of how well I knew him, he was a gentle man who will be missed.
I don't know what my friend is going to do. Worse yet, I know he will shun pity and ignore any actions people take to reach out to him, I know he will try to handle it on his own, because he's an intensely private man. There's very little I can do, but I will try to do it anyway.
Makes me want to get in touch with my family. It's my dad's birthday tomorrow, so I'll give the home a phone. And perhaps Aunty Rosemary and Uncle Stephen too.
Third post in a month and it's still cold ffs
I've done lots of things in the last few weeks or days that have lead me to think about the way I build and have relationships.
An acquaintance from twitter has been poking his head round again after I went off him because he was a bit creepy ("I'll always love the stars, we met because of them.") and I've promised myself that I'll face my fear and give him a second chance.
I met up with Mum last week because she was down in London for some work thing, and next time I phoned home she kept trying to keep the conversation going, about the things we'd just discussed that minute, like she thinks we're all pally now that I'm doing OK and I've got my own life.
I made an incredible friend last year, and when she was too touchy feely, I got mixed messages and freaked her and myself out. I can't stop feeling completely attached to her and it's still difficult to draw a line, because when it's warranted (and she's usually very good about that) she's very comforting.
I guess what I'm saying is that there's still a huge Want in my life, and it's not going away. I don't understand how people have romantic relationships and I'm not sure I'll ever feel that kind of love. I read people trying to introduce me to asexuality and aromanticism and stuff, but I don't *want* to be those things.
I'm beginning to think that my behaviours with friends and family have been abusive, mentally or emotionally, and when the time is right I need to go back and say sorry. But I don't have that many healthy relationships in my life, and I've noticed more and more that it feels rude to say no. I feel "no" but I end up saying "could do" or "maybe this instead?" or directing attention to a new option. It means I have difficulty standing up for myself and that means I'm not even at the beginning of knowing a healthy relationship when I see one.
An acquaintance from twitter has been poking his head round again after I went off him because he was a bit creepy ("I'll always love the stars, we met because of them.") and I've promised myself that I'll face my fear and give him a second chance.
I met up with Mum last week because she was down in London for some work thing, and next time I phoned home she kept trying to keep the conversation going, about the things we'd just discussed that minute, like she thinks we're all pally now that I'm doing OK and I've got my own life.
I made an incredible friend last year, and when she was too touchy feely, I got mixed messages and freaked her and myself out. I can't stop feeling completely attached to her and it's still difficult to draw a line, because when it's warranted (and she's usually very good about that) she's very comforting.
I guess what I'm saying is that there's still a huge Want in my life, and it's not going away. I don't understand how people have romantic relationships and I'm not sure I'll ever feel that kind of love. I read people trying to introduce me to asexuality and aromanticism and stuff, but I don't *want* to be those things.
I'm beginning to think that my behaviours with friends and family have been abusive, mentally or emotionally, and when the time is right I need to go back and say sorry. But I don't have that many healthy relationships in my life, and I've noticed more and more that it feels rude to say no. I feel "no" but I end up saying "could do" or "maybe this instead?" or directing attention to a new option. It means I have difficulty standing up for myself and that means I'm not even at the beginning of knowing a healthy relationship when I see one.
it is 2015 where are my clipclothes and hoverboards
First post of 2015! Hurraay! I've got about a million new years' resolutions this year, but write more in my LiveJournal might be one of them since it really helps me nail down my thoughts, gives me somewhere to vent my feelings and in general is a safe space to put words down. It's not a promise or anything, but it's a start.
So. Twenty fifteen is here. For the first time I worked between Christmas and New Year, which was weird, but not uncomfortable as such. It meant I didn't have any choice where I spent new year, but I had somewhere nice to go so I guess it's not all bad. (I went to Lily's party where I drank a fair amount on an empty stomach and then desperately tried to line my stomach with the mozzarella sticks I'd bought for everyone else. Oh well.)
London travel was free on 31 Dec-1 Jan until 4am so I went home and on the way started my year with some nice old fashioned street harrassment and then went to bed. I don't really remember going to bed, but I obviously did. I woke up at 2pm, and then slept some more. I finally had breakfast at 5. So starting the year as I meant to go on then.
On the 2nd, I recovered, waking up slightly earlier but still keeping to the house and not doing a great deal, then went over to Monica's, where I stayed with her until 5th.
( just avoid this bit tbh )
I remember reading in someone's LJ ages ago that they'd had a wonderful weekend with someone and then when they'd had to go home and leave it all behind, it was "coming back to Earth with a bump". I can understand that now: my year started off so lovely, it seems like it can't go anywhere but down :/
So. Twenty fifteen is here. For the first time I worked between Christmas and New Year, which was weird, but not uncomfortable as such. It meant I didn't have any choice where I spent new year, but I had somewhere nice to go so I guess it's not all bad. (I went to Lily's party where I drank a fair amount on an empty stomach and then desperately tried to line my stomach with the mozzarella sticks I'd bought for everyone else. Oh well.)
London travel was free on 31 Dec-1 Jan until 4am so I went home and on the way started my year with some nice old fashioned street harrassment and then went to bed. I don't really remember going to bed, but I obviously did. I woke up at 2pm, and then slept some more. I finally had breakfast at 5. So starting the year as I meant to go on then.
On the 2nd, I recovered, waking up slightly earlier but still keeping to the house and not doing a great deal, then went over to Monica's, where I stayed with her until 5th.
( just avoid this bit tbh )
I remember reading in someone's LJ ages ago that they'd had a wonderful weekend with someone and then when they'd had to go home and leave it all behind, it was "coming back to Earth with a bump". I can understand that now: my year started off so lovely, it seems like it can't go anywhere but down :/
Saturday and Sunday
Weekend has gone by in a bit of a blur. I feel like I haven't woken up this whole time.
On the flip side though, it's been a good weekend :)
At 6pm on saturday, I got a call out of the blue inviting me to a "thing at the globe, well a band" so I went to that. There was late-night pizza to end.
Sara, who invited me the night before, came round again today and we went to the original open day at the Police Station. Learned all about riot gear, got my bike marked and then sat in all the different police cars! :D
One of them was from 2006, one from 1995 (think The Bill), another 1983, and one from 1973. I managed to get the phrase "am I back in time?!" into my conversation a lá Sam Tyler. Pretty proud of myself.
We spoke to a historian of the police service who was convinced that "we've stopped catching so many criminals since coppers had to wear hi-vis. They can see them coming a million miles off now, and then just leg it. Better when they couldn't be seen. And there wasn't a drug problem back then either. Far fewer criminals, far fewer drugs."
WELL. My erstwhile friend diplomatically pointed out that hi-vis was a key part of *prevention* and that it meant coppers were safer too.
"Nah, we did better when coppers were sneaky."
We walked away quickly. Neither of us were up for any more of that shit.
i went to the ladies, just in time to hear some kids talking:
GIRL1: It stinks in here.
GIRL2: It's a police station, it's not exactly going to smell of roses is it?
then GIRL1 started singing loudly, banging doors and running around. GIRL1 points out that it's OK when it's just them, but they're not in public at the moment; they are representing their family and "garden", so they have to be well behaved or they might get judged. "Some people get judged quicker than others", she said, somewhat sagely.
I thought it was particularly poignant bearing in mind these were black children saying this in a police establishment. For a child younger than 10 to know such prejudice is tough to bear. I feel like pointing out that whoever their parents are, they've brought them up to be savvy, but saying that might be on the edge of victim blaming.
Tellling, nonetheless.
We walked to Stratford, went to eat at GBK and had a catch up; Sara's thinking of moving to London so it was nice to do a bit of forward planning as well.
This weekend is going to be a bit mad (huge event on 25th) but next next week is my holiday! WOOHOO!
so, this post didn't end up being what I wanted it to be, but that's OK.
I'll leave you with a video of Madness because WHY NOT
- I slept in on both Saturday and Sunday - didn't hear my alarm either time, which is slightly worrying.
- I went off to an open day on Saturday, only to find out it was the wrong day.
- I lost my purse, locked myself out, and spent about half the day doing... well.. not much.
On the flip side though, it's been a good weekend :)
At 6pm on saturday, I got a call out of the blue inviting me to a "thing at the globe, well a band" so I went to that. There was late-night pizza to end.
Sara, who invited me the night before, came round again today and we went to the original open day at the Police Station. Learned all about riot gear, got my bike marked and then sat in all the different police cars! :D
One of them was from 2006, one from 1995 (think The Bill), another 1983, and one from 1973. I managed to get the phrase "am I back in time?!" into my conversation a lá Sam Tyler. Pretty proud of myself.
We spoke to a historian of the police service who was convinced that "we've stopped catching so many criminals since coppers had to wear hi-vis. They can see them coming a million miles off now, and then just leg it. Better when they couldn't be seen. And there wasn't a drug problem back then either. Far fewer criminals, far fewer drugs."
WELL. My erstwhile friend diplomatically pointed out that hi-vis was a key part of *prevention* and that it meant coppers were safer too.
"Nah, we did better when coppers were sneaky."
We walked away quickly. Neither of us were up for any more of that shit.
i went to the ladies, just in time to hear some kids talking:
GIRL1: It stinks in here.
GIRL2: It's a police station, it's not exactly going to smell of roses is it?
then GIRL1 started singing loudly, banging doors and running around. GIRL1 points out that it's OK when it's just them, but they're not in public at the moment; they are representing their family and "garden", so they have to be well behaved or they might get judged. "Some people get judged quicker than others", she said, somewhat sagely.
I thought it was particularly poignant bearing in mind these were black children saying this in a police establishment. For a child younger than 10 to know such prejudice is tough to bear. I feel like pointing out that whoever their parents are, they've brought them up to be savvy, but saying that might be on the edge of victim blaming.
Tellling, nonetheless.
We walked to Stratford, went to eat at GBK and had a catch up; Sara's thinking of moving to London so it was nice to do a bit of forward planning as well.
This weekend is going to be a bit mad (huge event on 25th) but next next week is my holiday! WOOHOO!
so, this post didn't end up being what I wanted it to be, but that's OK.
I'll leave you with a video of Madness because WHY NOT
On tipping, and making the world go round.
So I went home for the weekend.
And hi, I'm back (I've wanted to post about three times in here since that other post, which I'm taking is a good thing).
It was great. I mean, the travelling (both ways) suuucked but I made it and it was totally worth it. I have been reminded about being careful what you wish for though. By the time I'd got my train in and then a taxi to the house, it was 1.15am and the house was wonderfully, peacefully, strangely quiet. My parents had gone out to meet some old friends and still weren't back. It got a bit awkward when I was in before them.
On the way back, I secretly wanted to have plenty of time to drive and to get through the music playlists we'd put together, and dreaded driving through the busy-ness of central London. We set off at 6pm and there was a crash on the A1 which meant we didn't get into London until about 1am.
That said though (=thinky post alert=), I have wished for some things and they happened more better than I can have imagined.
Cats remembered me.
Home bed was more comfortable than ever before and I had the best sleep I've had in a while (well overdue).
OK so Mum got offended because I gave her a gift but I did it in the wrong way but mostly we avoided argument. Even when I was driving back from the christening and Dad decided to launch into me about how I'd stolen the family photos and they were theirs and they wanted them back I managed to calmly explain the situation and.... divert the fight. while I was **driving**. Super impressed with myself, ngl.
Early last year, or maybe the year before, a house mate told me something that changed my fundamental beliefs. She said that if she goes out and receives bad service, she tips more than she normally would. I remember thinking at first that it was a mad idea - why would you reward someone who hadn't done their job properly? - but then we talked through it. That if they weren't doing very well, it was probably because they were having a bad day, and why make someone's job harder? The very fact that they were trying when their day was so hard made it worth tipping that much more. And the beauty of this, is that you can turn someone's bad day into someone's "well, that turned out OK actually" day. You can make someone's blind cussing into a smile, by recognising... well, them.
I think I'm rambling, but what I'm trying to say, is that I couldn't see a bad side. A little bit of happiness goes a long way. Maybe you help break a cycle and that person does a better job next time, or remembers to keep up standards for the rest of the shift, or manages to keep a job for one day more.
It got me thinking about people's motivations, and in particular how hard it is to be polite and pleasant and open and fair... when you're in a bad mood.You might be in a bad mood because of you, or because of other people, or because of inevitable bodily functions. Any number of reasons. Whatever the case, if that person runs over your toe with their pram when you're already at the end of your tether because people have been rude to you all day, you're hardly going to grin and bear it, are you? If people are cruel, or unkind, or mean in anyway, you probably should be nicer to them than you would normally.
I've been practising this philosophy for a while, and it works. It's not always easy - who doesn't have bad days? - but I haven't found anything to disprove it yet. And in excusing people's behaviour, or at least considering it in context, I'm understanding a lot more about people and humans in general, not to mention myself. It's pretty great, actually.
To paraphrase a favourite TV programme, why not give it a try?: making excuses for other people.
This post is brought to you by the letters H, U, and H and doesn't know what it wants to be when it grows up.
And hi, I'm back (I've wanted to post about three times in here since that other post, which I'm taking is a good thing).
It was great. I mean, the travelling (both ways) suuucked but I made it and it was totally worth it. I have been reminded about being careful what you wish for though. By the time I'd got my train in and then a taxi to the house, it was 1.15am and the house was wonderfully, peacefully, strangely quiet. My parents had gone out to meet some old friends and still weren't back. It got a bit awkward when I was in before them.
On the way back, I secretly wanted to have plenty of time to drive and to get through the music playlists we'd put together, and dreaded driving through the busy-ness of central London. We set off at 6pm and there was a crash on the A1 which meant we didn't get into London until about 1am.
That said though (=thinky post alert=), I have wished for some things and they happened more better than I can have imagined.
Cats remembered me.
Home bed was more comfortable than ever before and I had the best sleep I've had in a while (well overdue).
OK so Mum got offended because I gave her a gift but I did it in the wrong way but mostly we avoided argument. Even when I was driving back from the christening and Dad decided to launch into me about how I'd stolen the family photos and they were theirs and they wanted them back I managed to calmly explain the situation and.... divert the fight. while I was **driving**. Super impressed with myself, ngl.
Early last year, or maybe the year before, a house mate told me something that changed my fundamental beliefs. She said that if she goes out and receives bad service, she tips more than she normally would. I remember thinking at first that it was a mad idea - why would you reward someone who hadn't done their job properly? - but then we talked through it. That if they weren't doing very well, it was probably because they were having a bad day, and why make someone's job harder? The very fact that they were trying when their day was so hard made it worth tipping that much more. And the beauty of this, is that you can turn someone's bad day into someone's "well, that turned out OK actually" day. You can make someone's blind cussing into a smile, by recognising... well, them.
I think I'm rambling, but what I'm trying to say, is that I couldn't see a bad side. A little bit of happiness goes a long way. Maybe you help break a cycle and that person does a better job next time, or remembers to keep up standards for the rest of the shift, or manages to keep a job for one day more.
It got me thinking about people's motivations, and in particular how hard it is to be polite and pleasant and open and fair... when you're in a bad mood.You might be in a bad mood because of you, or because of other people, or because of inevitable bodily functions. Any number of reasons. Whatever the case, if that person runs over your toe with their pram when you're already at the end of your tether because people have been rude to you all day, you're hardly going to grin and bear it, are you? If people are cruel, or unkind, or mean in anyway, you probably should be nicer to them than you would normally.
I've been practising this philosophy for a while, and it works. It's not always easy - who doesn't have bad days? - but I haven't found anything to disprove it yet. And in excusing people's behaviour, or at least considering it in context, I'm understanding a lot more about people and humans in general, not to mention myself. It's pretty great, actually.
To paraphrase a favourite TV programme, why not give it a try?: making excuses for other people.
This post is brought to you by the letters H, U, and H and doesn't know what it wants to be when it grows up.
Hi. Hello. Not dead.
*ahem* hi. yeah, hi. That's how these things start, right? I'm Laura and I've been MIA since.. what, March?
I logged in to post a comment on a fic blog but I've seen some of you posting and I thought I'd take the time and opportunity to ... well. Write back to you, I suppose.
I'm still living in London, with new housemates (and a new address) since my last entry. New job, since July too. Now working in an educational charity in Hipster Central Shoreditch High Street. Still feeling a bit out of place too, and not really happy. But I am enjoying most of my time here, and in lieu of all the other things I haven't done, feels a bit like a rite of passage.
I kinda think that's all there is to it, really.
But I wanted to say. Once a Hufflepuff*, always a Hufflepuff. I live on other internet places now but I've put my various handles below. Maybe I'm hormonal or something, but I have been thinking about you and wondering about how you're getting on... I miss you.
tinymattresses.tumblr.com
@tinymattresses
&
this is me on goodreads
Alternatively, I'm more than happy to email or text or something. PM me if you're cool with that. I don't know what to say, except maybe, "hello"?
*I'm on Pottermore too, but I hardly use it, tbh.
I logged in to post a comment on a fic blog but I've seen some of you posting and I thought I'd take the time and opportunity to ... well. Write back to you, I suppose.
I'm still living in London, with new housemates (and a new address) since my last entry. New job, since July too. Now working in an educational charity in Hipster Central Shoreditch High Street. Still feeling a bit out of place too, and not really happy. But I am enjoying most of my time here, and in lieu of all the other things I haven't done, feels a bit like a rite of passage.
I kinda think that's all there is to it, really.
But I wanted to say. Once a Hufflepuff*, always a Hufflepuff. I live on other internet places now but I've put my various handles below. Maybe I'm hormonal or something, but I have been thinking about you and wondering about how you're getting on... I miss you.
tinymattresses.tumblr.com
@tinymattresses
&
this is me on goodreads
Alternatively, I'm more than happy to email or text or something. PM me if you're cool with that. I don't know what to say, except maybe, "hello"?
*I'm on Pottermore too, but I hardly use it, tbh.
How do you stop finding things, especially people, annoying?
I'm sitting in the South Bank Centre, wondering why I'm unhappy. I used to be happy, I think. I used to be happy with dips of low and now I'm low with dips of happy.
I have a job, and one that I love. Some great people and whether it finishes in May or not I'll have learnt so much and had a fabulous time doing it.
I'm not living with my parents anymore and I'm taking control of my life, even though I still don't feel independent of them as much as I'd like. But I did something and I'm proud of what I've achieved, and earning respect and a name for myself, which is something I've always wanted to do.
I'd like to say I had some amazing friends, but I don't feel I do anymore. I've recently been unable to accept them for who they are and it means all I see are flaws. One of my friends constantly considers her boyfriend(s) over me; another has delusions of grandeur and can't stop trying to tell me his life is better than mine. I think I've forgotten how to tolerate people. Or, more than that, how to love them when I find things annoying. When things are annoying, I end up thinking that means we're incompatible, and then I stop making any effort, because, logically speaking, why bother?
Take out the "logically speaking" and that sounds horrible. In fact, leave it in and out sounds horrible. I don't want to be that person, and yet here I am, getting pickier and pickier about who I choose to spend my time with. It's funny: I'm getting more picky about friends and less picky about food. I thought I'd grow out of being picky about both, tbh.
At the same time, I'm still undeniably single. I can't help feeling the two are related.
I'd appreciate any ideas, by the way. I really would. Right now I just want to sit down and cry about it. I think I'm doing this "people thing" wrong. Maybe I'm not saying enough, maybe I'm saying too much, I have no idea.
I have a job, and one that I love. Some great people and whether it finishes in May or not I'll have learnt so much and had a fabulous time doing it.
I'm not living with my parents anymore and I'm taking control of my life, even though I still don't feel independent of them as much as I'd like. But I did something and I'm proud of what I've achieved, and earning respect and a name for myself, which is something I've always wanted to do.
I'd like to say I had some amazing friends, but I don't feel I do anymore. I've recently been unable to accept them for who they are and it means all I see are flaws. One of my friends constantly considers her boyfriend(s) over me; another has delusions of grandeur and can't stop trying to tell me his life is better than mine. I think I've forgotten how to tolerate people. Or, more than that, how to love them when I find things annoying. When things are annoying, I end up thinking that means we're incompatible, and then I stop making any effort, because, logically speaking, why bother?
Take out the "logically speaking" and that sounds horrible. In fact, leave it in and out sounds horrible. I don't want to be that person, and yet here I am, getting pickier and pickier about who I choose to spend my time with. It's funny: I'm getting more picky about friends and less picky about food. I thought I'd grow out of being picky about both, tbh.
At the same time, I'm still undeniably single. I can't help feeling the two are related.
I'd appreciate any ideas, by the way. I really would. Right now I just want to sit down and cry about it. I think I'm doing this "people thing" wrong. Maybe I'm not saying enough, maybe I'm saying too much, I have no idea.
(no subject)
So 2013 is here. And I am sort of indifferent to it. There is nothing in 2013 that I can look forward to. Nothing. I am moved out, and (technically) employed, not quite earning but definitely getting somewhere. I have friends, and am making new ones while I'm working in more ways of seeing the old ones. I am finally proud of myself, and positive about my future. Except there's nothing exciting about 2013. It's either more of the same, or less of the same. My cousin is expecting a baby, but I doubt it is going to be super exciting when I hardly see him anyway. It's all a damp squib after the joy that was the Diamond Jubilee, the Olympics and the best summer of my life.
Whilst we were walking along the Southbank, I pointed this out to a friend. I was so sad to see 2012 go; what is there to hope for in 2013?
He couldn't help but see the positives, and spoke of how I was in for a year of knowing where I stood, and the number of times you get that are rare. I hopefully wouldn't have to move jobs; I knew where I was living and my self-confidence wasn't taking a knocking everyday; my networks were developing and I could see a list of my own contacts ahead of me. It was all good.
The only thing he thought I should do, was improve and grow my friendships. At first, I was surprised. In London for less than a year and I have people - friends - to go out with several times each week, if I want to, not to mention the people I work, live, and practice Tai Chi. Starting from nothing, I had found friends, I had found friendly people, and I had a social life that had been different from anything before. "I can't go any faster!" I wanted to tell him. I don't trust others easily, and I'm not going to rush it. There's not much of a love life for me, but I tell myself that will come when I'm ready (and I don't think I am yet, tbh); otherwise I am happy and things are great.
But I asked him what he meant, nevertheless, because input from friends is always worth understanding.
He erred for a moment. "Do you want to stay in London?" he asked.
"Well, I don't want to go home," I answered. "I could probably live anywhere, as long as there were some things to do and work for me, but going home would be a backwards step."
"So let's take it that - providing you get paid work and that looks likely - you'll be in London at least for this year."
"Ok?"
"So you need to have people who are there for you..."
I thought about the mental list I constantly bear in mind entitled, "People who would be there in an emergency, whatever the cost to themselves." He's on it.
"I do."
"I mean, here." he indicated.
It sounds naiive, but what he'd alerted me to was something I hadn't considered before. It was a brand new concept.
I've rarely moved house - in fact I never moved before going to university, which I'm not sure really counts, and even now it wouldn't be far out to suggest my family home acts as a "base" - and this is the first time I've had to find some people that I like to spend my time with, without having any means of specifying the pool in which I find them, like in University or School. I have friends here, and people I'm on friendly terms with, but where are my Friends? In that moment, I understood what he was talking about.
"You mean, Bridget Jones Stylee?" (And yes I actually say 'stylee'.)
He was in the middle of trying to elaborate more, but stopped to confirmedly agree.
I thought about Bridget Jones for a bit. There she is in this pokey flat, not sure where her job or life is going, and annoyed at her parents for being a bit pushy, but whatever happens, whatever the weather, she's got her friends.
My family have never lived around the corner, and moving away from uni never affected my relationships with my school friends, so it's not surprising that I'd never thought about making really good friends more conveniently close to my living arrangements. Now he'd noticed it, I couldn't help noticing it too. I depend on my friends everyday, to stop me going insane and to keep my heart warm (I'm a hufflepuff, we run on friendship) and yet while I had several really good friends across 4 different counties, none of those included places that could have been listed under the heading "close enough to have a coffee with me at lunchtime" or "can make arrangements for the evening on the day". Of course when we're in the same places we do these things, but we have to arrange these things, often weeks in advance.
I'd realised that all my friends lived a distance from me last year, and had felt the consequences of having to make all those arrangements. But I've never considered the other side of things - that maybe I should make better friends closer to home as well.
The thing is, that I can't stop thinking about this. Where does one find best friends? What happens if I can't? Should I try? Should I just try to be happy with the way things are? Wouldn't it be good if I did have someone in London like that?
It made me understand a few things. I have people who (I think) look out for me, but who is there to come round to see if I'm ok or suggest a film? I end up having a lot of fun, but wouldn't it be nicer to not have to tag along to other people's events all the time? Where are the people who I can be sure will definitely want to do something with me? Where are the people who I can feel entirely comfortable and cosy with? If something happened, whose sofa would be closest?
I just can't stop thinking about this bloody hole in my life. It'd be nice to not be lonely.
He couldn't help but see the positives, and spoke of how I was in for a year of knowing where I stood, and the number of times you get that are rare. I hopefully wouldn't have to move jobs; I knew where I was living and my self-confidence wasn't taking a knocking everyday; my networks were developing and I could see a list of my own contacts ahead of me. It was all good.
The only thing he thought I should do, was improve and grow my friendships. At first, I was surprised. In London for less than a year and I have people - friends - to go out with several times each week, if I want to, not to mention the people I work, live, and practice Tai Chi. Starting from nothing, I had found friends, I had found friendly people, and I had a social life that had been different from anything before. "I can't go any faster!" I wanted to tell him. I don't trust others easily, and I'm not going to rush it. There's not much of a love life for me, but I tell myself that will come when I'm ready (and I don't think I am yet, tbh); otherwise I am happy and things are great.
But I asked him what he meant, nevertheless, because input from friends is always worth understanding.
He erred for a moment. "Do you want to stay in London?" he asked.
"Well, I don't want to go home," I answered. "I could probably live anywhere, as long as there were some things to do and work for me, but going home would be a backwards step."
"So let's take it that - providing you get paid work and that looks likely - you'll be in London at least for this year."
"Ok?"
"So you need to have people who are there for you..."
I thought about the mental list I constantly bear in mind entitled, "People who would be there in an emergency, whatever the cost to themselves." He's on it.
"I do."
"I mean, here." he indicated.
It sounds naiive, but what he'd alerted me to was something I hadn't considered before. It was a brand new concept.
I've rarely moved house - in fact I never moved before going to university, which I'm not sure really counts, and even now it wouldn't be far out to suggest my family home acts as a "base" - and this is the first time I've had to find some people that I like to spend my time with, without having any means of specifying the pool in which I find them, like in University or School. I have friends here, and people I'm on friendly terms with, but where are my Friends? In that moment, I understood what he was talking about.
"You mean, Bridget Jones Stylee?" (And yes I actually say 'stylee'.)
He was in the middle of trying to elaborate more, but stopped to confirmedly agree.
I thought about Bridget Jones for a bit. There she is in this pokey flat, not sure where her job or life is going, and annoyed at her parents for being a bit pushy, but whatever happens, whatever the weather, she's got her friends.
My family have never lived around the corner, and moving away from uni never affected my relationships with my school friends, so it's not surprising that I'd never thought about making really good friends more conveniently close to my living arrangements. Now he'd noticed it, I couldn't help noticing it too. I depend on my friends everyday, to stop me going insane and to keep my heart warm (I'm a hufflepuff, we run on friendship) and yet while I had several really good friends across 4 different counties, none of those included places that could have been listed under the heading "close enough to have a coffee with me at lunchtime" or "can make arrangements for the evening on the day". Of course when we're in the same places we do these things, but we have to arrange these things, often weeks in advance.
I'd realised that all my friends lived a distance from me last year, and had felt the consequences of having to make all those arrangements. But I've never considered the other side of things - that maybe I should make better friends closer to home as well.
The thing is, that I can't stop thinking about this. Where does one find best friends? What happens if I can't? Should I try? Should I just try to be happy with the way things are? Wouldn't it be good if I did have someone in London like that?
It made me understand a few things. I have people who (I think) look out for me, but who is there to come round to see if I'm ok or suggest a film? I end up having a lot of fun, but wouldn't it be nicer to not have to tag along to other people's events all the time? Where are the people who I can be sure will definitely want to do something with me? Where are the people who I can feel entirely comfortable and cosy with? If something happened, whose sofa would be closest?
I just can't stop thinking about this bloody hole in my life. It'd be nice to not be lonely.
I guess most of you should just avoid posts where I use this icon :S
Entry tags:
Quick update.
Went home to Sheffield to see Pulp this weekend. Sister came back from university and the family dynamic has changed somewhat. For the good, I hope, although I had to be a lot more serious than I normally am because I had so much to do. I didn't sleep well either, even though homebed and CATS. Enjoyed being back though.
In other news, I need a haircut and to stop having feels about something which I was last excited about in 2008.
In other news, I need a haircut and to stop having feels about something which I was last excited about in 2008.
(no subject)
Just finished watching The Power of Three. Normally when something is so obviously fanservice it makes me cringe, but this was done right, I think. Adorable and sweet. L'ill bit in love with Doctor-Ponds friendship, ngl.
Can't think straight so words are coming out a bit pickled for anything more than that, sorry.
Can't think straight so words are coming out a bit pickled for anything more than that, sorry.
Time to tell you things in WORDS
So. I've been working out a way to write this and how to talk about it but I've come up with nothing, so I'm going to go by my usual plan and write whatever's coming out of my brain.
Tbh, that's probably not the best way of doing things, because for the last almost two weeks, I've been learning all about PR and Media, and a lot of it comes across as just bloody well keeping your mouth shut.
Well, a bit more than that, but it's something I'm not all that used to doing, to be honest with you, so I'll be taking an alternative route.
Yes, I have a new job. Away from Supermarkets and Sainsbury's and shitty soaps and suds. NO LONGER AM I A CLEANER! (Not that I am snobbish in any way - far from it, especially now I know what it's like - I just did not enjoy being judged and looked down by other people who assumed I lived a cleaner's lifestyle.) I mean, in a way, I've gone down the ladder, because I'm not actually *earning* anymore; nope, FREEDOM FROM CAPITALISM AND MONETARY SOCIETAL STRANGLEHOLD IS MINE!!! But also I have no money to live. So there is that.
I'm in London, and it's exciting. I'm pretty proud of myself too, and I'm not worried about saying that; living in a London postcode (albeit Zone 3 *shrug*) is something I wouldn't have felt, let alone been, able to do barely three months ago. I'm not sure what changed, but I've just paid my rent, I'm working in an interesting and creative industry (although "being taken advantage of" may be more appropriate since it's unpaid, but still, the experience at this time should hopefully be invaluable), and while I'm not sure it's even properly hit me yet, I am beginning to live my own life. My thoughts and wishes and wanderings are my own. I come back when I like, I eat what I like (and surprisingly healthy too! Note to self:BUY SWEETCORN! DONE!) and I think I'm enjoying it. It's been a bit topsy-turvy, confusing, in relation to my health and ability to think straight (change of sleep patterns + new living arrangements + LONDON + FT work + stress = WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED I DON'T EVEN HOW IS IT TUESDAY but on the whole, it's hugely exciting, beautifully liberating and very enjoyable. It sounds like I've missed a few arguments at home, which is nice, and I know this is going to sound a bit strange, but I'm beginning to have my own thoughts again. It happened when I went to Uni for the first time, and reversed when I had to go back home afterwards; instead of more-than-automatically cancelling thoughts before they can get out of the box, I'm beginning to (what I can only describe as) 're-feel' an authority in my own beliefs and critiques, I'm able to spend time on my ideas and be my own judge of whether they are worth voicing. It's one of the side-effects of living with an emotionally-unstable illiberal guardian that you end up keeping a lot of things to yourself and limiting what you say and I suppose think.
It's nice to think now that my creative (with a small 'c') side is on the road to recovery, slowly but surely, every day dissolving the fences I have laboured to put up the last few years; it's like one of those MAGIC! flannels that you had when you were younger (or maybe now, I don't know your flannel habits and tbh, I don't really want to) - add a bit of cool refreshing moisture, and it starts to breathe.
I don't know if that made ANY sense, and I feel very much like I'm coming across as a 13-year-old days before OMG ONE DIRECTION RELEASE THEIR TOUR TICKETS AND THEIR GOING SLIGHTLY NEAR MY HOUSE AND OMG I LOVE THEM #1Dfamily lovelove or something. [DISCLAIMER: I have no idea where the '1D' tour is going and frankly, I do not care.] I think that is probably because the tumblr and the twitter.
the tumblr makes me type in this tone when i only use lower case and have this sort of vaguely pensieve mood where i wonder stuff aloud and question the world through rhetorical questions without any punctuation
my inner linguist is going to look into that
My twitter makes me use CAPS and get excited and not really think about what I am typing, tbh. Also acronyms and I suppose run-on sentences? Alongside being pretty frank and not really worrying what people think of me. And I think write for me rather than anyone else - I'm not narrating an event, I'm just venting my challenges; it's not to you, it's at you. I hope to one day get some decorum back.
But yes, for now, everything from my home life to my writing style has changed, and I'm loving it.
Tbh, that's probably not the best way of doing things, because for the last almost two weeks, I've been learning all about PR and Media, and a lot of it comes across as just bloody well keeping your mouth shut.
Well, a bit more than that, but it's something I'm not all that used to doing, to be honest with you, so I'll be taking an alternative route.
Yes, I have a new job. Away from Supermarkets and Sainsbury's and shitty soaps and suds. NO LONGER AM I A CLEANER! (Not that I am snobbish in any way - far from it, especially now I know what it's like - I just did not enjoy being judged and looked down by other people who assumed I lived a cleaner's lifestyle.) I mean, in a way, I've gone down the ladder, because I'm not actually *earning* anymore; nope, FREEDOM FROM CAPITALISM AND MONETARY SOCIETAL STRANGLEHOLD IS MINE!!! But also I have no money to live. So there is that.
I'm in London, and it's exciting. I'm pretty proud of myself too, and I'm not worried about saying that; living in a London postcode (albeit Zone 3 *shrug*) is something I wouldn't have felt, let alone been, able to do barely three months ago. I'm not sure what changed, but I've just paid my rent, I'm working in an interesting and creative industry (although "being taken advantage of" may be more appropriate since it's unpaid, but still, the experience at this time should hopefully be invaluable), and while I'm not sure it's even properly hit me yet, I am beginning to live my own life. My thoughts and wishes and wanderings are my own. I come back when I like, I eat what I like (and surprisingly healthy too! Note to self:
It's nice to think now that my creative (with a small 'c') side is on the road to recovery, slowly but surely, every day dissolving the fences I have laboured to put up the last few years; it's like one of those MAGIC! flannels that you had when you were younger (or maybe now, I don't know your flannel habits and tbh, I don't really want to) - add a bit of cool refreshing moisture, and it starts to breathe.
I don't know if that made ANY sense, and I feel very much like I'm coming across as a 13-year-old days before OMG ONE DIRECTION RELEASE THEIR TOUR TICKETS AND THEIR GOING SLIGHTLY NEAR MY HOUSE AND OMG I LOVE THEM #1Dfamily lovelove or something. [DISCLAIMER: I have no idea where the '1D' tour is going and frankly, I do not care.] I think that is probably because the tumblr and the twitter.
the tumblr makes me type in this tone when i only use lower case and have this sort of vaguely pensieve mood where i wonder stuff aloud and question the world through rhetorical questions without any punctuation
my inner linguist is going to look into that
My twitter makes me use CAPS and get excited and not really think about what I am typing, tbh. Also acronyms and I suppose run-on sentences? Alongside being pretty frank and not really worrying what people think of me. And I think write for me rather than anyone else - I'm not narrating an event, I'm just venting my challenges; it's not to you, it's at you. I hope to one day get some decorum back.
But yes, for now, everything from my home life to my writing style has changed, and I'm loving it.
tl;dr learning how to learn is HARD and sometimes books lie
Sooo, I feel the need to blog. Here. I have been neglecting it, and yes I'm sorry, but I will be making amends and it's definitely worth getting back into this whole "think in longer sentences" business so that's what I am doing. Tick.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to blog, and here, although I suppose today, whilst it hasn't been all that eventful, has seen me feeling somewhat refreshed and quite thinky, for want of a better word. Pensive, maybe. Hmmm.
I went through a box of papers, and it had bits of everything in it. Bus and train tickets, plane tickets even, but then magazine articles about Pompeii and a purposefully tea-stained letter from my my GCSE History days. I'm fed up of having loads of tat in my room - it's beginning to look positively store-room-ish because I'm such a hoarder - and so I was harsh (ish) today. I think I ended up chucking half the box out, which is okay. What surprised me though, was just how much it became clear that I resented my time at uni. All these things about information for Freshers and receipts and even my notes... I just wanted to get rid of it. Didn't want to see it again. Hadn't liked what it had made me.
And it had made me something. Or rather, somebody I didn't like. Who just... wasn't me. It's taken so long to realise it, and I'm still not sure I'm entirely there, but university made me a bit of a monster, tbh. Not to anyone else, I'd argue (although the fights I had with Mum were pretty epic. In a BAD WAY. No lols.), but in myself. Unrecognisable, and quite possibly suffering from some sort of Winter of the soul. My education was corporised, my home limbo'ed, and my friends changed. My life moved out of the ladder-shaped routine it had been suited to at home, and fell into the quick moving river (at times getting stuck in an ox-bow lake). I had to learn to do a lot of things very quickly, not least Learn the Right Way. And learning how to learn is HARD.
Here I was, used to teaching and questions and boards and discussion, and arguably THRIVING on that for the majority of myschool years, and now the goal posts are moved and actually it's "Sorry Laura, we'll have to sit this one out, it's up to you now."
"What the foof?! It's up to ME?! Since when was it up to me? I sit here quietly, have a giggle, take it all in, wow people with my knowledge and enthusiasm, give people a couple of laughs for being outspoken, tick a couple of boxes, and write an answer we just planned. Batta bing, batta boom; everyone goes home happy."
"Er, no, Laura, no bing or boom here. Or even batta. Read a book, do your work, and get on with it BYE"
"but but but... what. How do not stories books?"
"I dunno. BYE."
Yeah. It was basically that. I hardly used the library until Third Year, and even then it took me forever to learn how to properly use those kinds of books (No reading from start to finish; you just rip them apart, abuse the f**k out of them, basically). Even then, someone had to teach me. It all made me feel very stunted, behind, and all rather unclever. Added to the fact that I don't think my heart was ever truly there, and my mindset adjusted for that, shrugging everything off to stop it being important. I suppose it's not surprising I became such a shell. No heart, no mind, no matter? Not me.
I felt stupid, and I thought it was because I wasn't doing enough; because I was getting less smart, and not trying; because I was in the wrong place doing the wrong thing. I still think that now - that maybe I shouldn't have gone to uni just then, or that I should have considered a lot more unis than I actually did - but I know it in a different way now. Reading is a bit of an Old Boys Club, tbh, and I'm very much convinced it was the wrong place for me, but only because I wasn't ready for the kind of learning it wanted to give me.
I'm absolutely not putting this down to the North-South divide (I'm not that aggravated) but my previous education (and myself, if I'm honest) had not readied me for this. I didn't know what was happening, I didn't understand why it was and how to turn it around, and I didn't yet have the tools to protect myself against the only answer I saw: that it was me, and I was "too thick". I honestly don't think I'd recognise that me, if I met that me now. It's like I'm recovered, because I certainly wasn't well then.
I doubted myself. I doubted who I was and what I loved, and where I wanted to go. The little voice that had only had to whisper before about what I was doing and the kind of person I was, was getting lost in the fog that filled me, even when it was shouting. In resentment it turned nasty, started telling me things I didn't want to hear. And I didn't have the strength - or really the knowledge - to not believe it.
Now THAT was an eye-opener: That I didn't have to believe things people told me. Well, I knew that. I'd developed that skill in my A-Level classes, even before; the source was important and ulterior motives were something I had to look out for. Clare broadened the meaning of "people" though; explained that just because someone has published something in a hard, bound, heavy book, didn't mean their writing and theories were any more factual. They might say this was what truly happened, or evidence for that particular thing, but they weren't me. Sure, they had years worth of experience in the field and plenty of research behind them, but I was one lowly BA student ready to challenge them all. No, I was new. I didn't get it for a while, but as learnt a bit more here and there, and started putting things together, and realising I could put them together, and that I didn't have to suppress them, I gained a gentle confidence in my own ideas. I'm still practising not suppressing them now - a lifetime of having an emotionally unstable mother will do that to you - but as I began to see a book as something that could be wrong, I began to see a tiny passing-through thought as something that could be right. My views... could be... GOOD. They could get marks, be admired, open someone ELSE'S mind!
Tied in with my module on what was basically Myth and Dichotomy, which posited that pretty much everything could be given the response, "Says who?" this philosophy took hold and now won't let go. Sometimes I forget about it, because I think you have to, to have a good time (you can't go thinking, "Oh! That was some SEXISM!" at a comedy gala, for instance; you have to 'blinker' as I think me and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
4492 call it.), but then I go back into it and it's like I'm set back from the world, and while there are *things* in the world, there's no web for them to sit comfortably *in* anymore. It's a very confounding experience that can't happen too often because otherwise I'd go mad.
It's nice to be Separate sometimes though. Helps enormously with reading the newspapers and understanding the goings on of the outer bubble, which is the rest of the world when I'm Separate. It's focused those early A-Level skills too, about seeing where something has come from and relating it to other things that are happening at the same time. Like with that Tory Party Donor happening to be recorded just at the moment he's talking about something scandalous involving the Tory government, as reported in a normally Right Wing Murdoch Newspaper. As reported in a Murdoch Newspaper during the Leveson Inquiry. It's also made me a lot more confident in myself, and secured the platform my heart stands on, the one that keeps it out of the dregs and above the smears around it; the one that enables my mouth to speak up and say "No."
I daresay I'm maybe finally ready for university.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to blog, and here, although I suppose today, whilst it hasn't been all that eventful, has seen me feeling somewhat refreshed and quite thinky, for want of a better word. Pensive, maybe. Hmmm.
I went through a box of papers, and it had bits of everything in it. Bus and train tickets, plane tickets even, but then magazine articles about Pompeii and a purposefully tea-stained letter from my my GCSE History days. I'm fed up of having loads of tat in my room - it's beginning to look positively store-room-ish because I'm such a hoarder - and so I was harsh (ish) today. I think I ended up chucking half the box out, which is okay. What surprised me though, was just how much it became clear that I resented my time at uni. All these things about information for Freshers and receipts and even my notes... I just wanted to get rid of it. Didn't want to see it again. Hadn't liked what it had made me.
And it had made me something. Or rather, somebody I didn't like. Who just... wasn't me. It's taken so long to realise it, and I'm still not sure I'm entirely there, but university made me a bit of a monster, tbh. Not to anyone else, I'd argue (although the fights I had with Mum were pretty epic. In a BAD WAY. No lols.), but in myself. Unrecognisable, and quite possibly suffering from some sort of Winter of the soul. My education was corporised, my home limbo'ed, and my friends changed. My life moved out of the ladder-shaped routine it had been suited to at home, and fell into the quick moving river (at times getting stuck in an ox-bow lake). I had to learn to do a lot of things very quickly, not least Learn the Right Way. And learning how to learn is HARD.
Here I was, used to teaching and questions and boards and discussion, and arguably THRIVING on that for the majority of my
"What the foof?! It's up to ME?! Since when was it up to me? I sit here quietly, have a giggle, take it all in, wow people with my knowledge and enthusiasm, give people a couple of laughs for being outspoken, tick a couple of boxes, and write an answer we just planned. Batta bing, batta boom; everyone goes home happy."
"Er, no, Laura, no bing or boom here. Or even batta. Read a book, do your work, and get on with it BYE"
"but but but... what. How do not stories books?"
"I dunno. BYE."
Yeah. It was basically that. I hardly used the library until Third Year, and even then it took me forever to learn how to properly use those kinds of books (No reading from start to finish; you just rip them apart, abuse the f**k out of them, basically). Even then, someone had to teach me. It all made me feel very stunted, behind, and all rather unclever. Added to the fact that I don't think my heart was ever truly there, and my mindset adjusted for that, shrugging everything off to stop it being important. I suppose it's not surprising I became such a shell. No heart, no mind, no matter? Not me.
I felt stupid, and I thought it was because I wasn't doing enough; because I was getting less smart, and not trying; because I was in the wrong place doing the wrong thing. I still think that now - that maybe I shouldn't have gone to uni just then, or that I should have considered a lot more unis than I actually did - but I know it in a different way now. Reading is a bit of an Old Boys Club, tbh, and I'm very much convinced it was the wrong place for me, but only because I wasn't ready for the kind of learning it wanted to give me.
I'm absolutely not putting this down to the North-South divide (I'm not that aggravated) but my previous education (and myself, if I'm honest) had not readied me for this. I didn't know what was happening, I didn't understand why it was and how to turn it around, and I didn't yet have the tools to protect myself against the only answer I saw: that it was me, and I was "too thick". I honestly don't think I'd recognise that me, if I met that me now. It's like I'm recovered, because I certainly wasn't well then.
I doubted myself. I doubted who I was and what I loved, and where I wanted to go. The little voice that had only had to whisper before about what I was doing and the kind of person I was, was getting lost in the fog that filled me, even when it was shouting. In resentment it turned nasty, started telling me things I didn't want to hear. And I didn't have the strength - or really the knowledge - to not believe it.
Now THAT was an eye-opener: That I didn't have to believe things people told me. Well, I knew that. I'd developed that skill in my A-Level classes, even before; the source was important and ulterior motives were something I had to look out for. Clare broadened the meaning of "people" though; explained that just because someone has published something in a hard, bound, heavy book, didn't mean their writing and theories were any more factual. They might say this was what truly happened, or evidence for that particular thing, but they weren't me. Sure, they had years worth of experience in the field and plenty of research behind them, but I was one lowly BA student ready to challenge them all. No, I was new. I didn't get it for a while, but as learnt a bit more here and there, and started putting things together, and realising I could put them together, and that I didn't have to suppress them, I gained a gentle confidence in my own ideas. I'm still practising not suppressing them now - a lifetime of having an emotionally unstable mother will do that to you - but as I began to see a book as something that could be wrong, I began to see a tiny passing-through thought as something that could be right. My views... could be... GOOD. They could get marks, be admired, open someone ELSE'S mind!
Tied in with my module on what was basically Myth and Dichotomy, which posited that pretty much everything could be given the response, "Says who?" this philosophy took hold and now won't let go. Sometimes I forget about it, because I think you have to, to have a good time (you can't go thinking, "Oh! That was some SEXISM!" at a comedy gala, for instance; you have to 'blinker' as I think me and
4492 call it.), but then I go back into it and it's like I'm set back from the world, and while there are *things* in the world, there's no web for them to sit comfortably *in* anymore. It's a very confounding experience that can't happen too often because otherwise I'd go mad.It's nice to be Separate sometimes though. Helps enormously with reading the newspapers and understanding the goings on of the outer bubble, which is the rest of the world when I'm Separate. It's focused those early A-Level skills too, about seeing where something has come from and relating it to other things that are happening at the same time. Like with that Tory Party Donor happening to be recorded just at the moment he's talking about something scandalous involving the Tory government, as reported in a normally Right Wing Murdoch Newspaper. As reported in a Murdoch Newspaper during the Leveson Inquiry. It's also made me a lot more confident in myself, and secured the platform my heart stands on, the one that keeps it out of the dregs and above the smears around it; the one that enables my mouth to speak up and say "No."
I daresay I'm maybe finally ready for university.