Honestly.

November 20, 2008

Currently, life is not particularly interesting.
Why then, would I be writing a blog at a ridiculous hour of the morning? Well, I have tried watching tv, sleeping, and reading (Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, Choke by Chuck Palahniuk, JPod by Douglas Coupland and Only Strange People Go To Church, by Laura Marney. A fuckton of books.) but to no avail.
I have even texted people. At this time! I am lucky to have friends.
So I am attempting to create something interesting, by blogging. I also hope that by pulling an all-nighter, my sleep pattern reverts to normal. Usually, I have no trouble sleeping, but since becoming a Uni student, I’ve been getting to bed later and later.
Not because of a hectic party lifestyle. Quite the opposite. If I had one of those, maybe I would sleep better.

A couple of weeks ago, I went on a mini jaunt to London with my boyfriend. It was exhausting, as it’s never advisable to walk ten miles in the space of eight hours, but it was amazing. I paid for my half myself, using my hard earned wage. We were mature enough to negotiate a bustling metropolis he had never visited, and I had last seen when I was about ten. What’s more, we didn’t get mugged or stabbed, and we even fit in a visit to my brother and his fiancee. Yes, we were young adults and loving it.
Upon returning home, we quickly had to resume normal life. And it was lame.
Now that I’ve had this taste of responsibility, I am loath to relinquish it.
I still live at home. Sometimes I’ll think, ‘I’m only 18, and some people don’t move out until their mid twenties. Mid thirties even.’ but then someone will mention they’ve just moved into their own place and my heart will be filled with a swell of jealousy and hatred. The sort you can only feel towards your friends.

Creatively, I think I’m a bit lacking too. On Monday, I painted for the first time in about nine months. But I don’t know if it made me feel any different. Everything’s all just much of a muchness. I like routine, but I do the same thing week in, week out.
I want to be challenged. Problem is, I’m inherently lazy. And the excuse of ‘I’m eighteen’ only works on so many issues, and for so long. I won’t be eighteen forever.
I don’t want to look back on my life and realise I’ve wasted it. At the minute though, I don’t really feel anything about … anything.
At Uni, there was a test in Sociology that I did better at than the other people in my circle of friends. I got a first, whereas they got mediumish respectable marks. Would’ve been happy with that. Did no revision, pretty much. Wasn’t that arsed. But the test didn’t count towards our final grade, so it was somewhat of a hollow victory. I just thought, ‘What was the fucking point of that then?’

Yesterday I began the mammoth task of reading Alex Day’s diary entries, starting in 2003.
Huge because, have you seen how many entries he writes a day? It’ll take me at least a year to catch up.
We’re roundabout the same age, so when he talks about Neopets and Yu Gi Oh, I’m in the right age band. The things he talks about, I know I felt at some point.
It makes me miss early teen Laura. She was whiney and a little bit annoying, probably. But she was naive, which I don’t think is a bad thing. Aah, when times were simple. I am such an old woman.

I know why I’m feeling like this!
Too much Douglas Coupland. Problem solved.

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One Response to “Honestly.”

  1. Andrew said

    Btw, there’s no time stamps on these that I can see, so “at this hour” is ambiguous to a degree. Just FYI =] Do you commute to school or did you just mean you live at home when uni is on holiday? Living at home after uni is the worst. It always occurs to me to stay at my apt at school instead of going home during breaks. Unfortunately, all my uni friends go home and the city is dullsville, so I go home as well. I’m going to live at home a little after I graduate to get situated before moving out, in theory. I’m not sure I can stand it. An easy way to get over missing early teen you is to go to a high school (or whatever your equivalent) sometime after your second year of uni. Just go visit an old teacher or something. The conversation and atmosphere will probably be enough to make you realize you’ve out grown it. Pettiness just doesn’t have lasting value somehow.

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