2012-01-30 @ 3:31 p.m.
Dizzy
As I previously mentioned, I�ve been hanging around with Sarah O a lot more recently and she admitted to me how worried she was about finding people to live with next year (which is something she has rarely done before, so it�s an indication she�s coming to trust me). You see, she�d planned to live with a bunch of people she knows from the house she lives in now, but they�d all decided to break off and form a variety of houses she didn�t particularly want to live in, and didn�t seem to be invited to regardless. So, me being me, I told her she could come and live with us if she wanted to.
I realised afterwards that I would need to run this by my other housemates, but true to form they were completely fine with it � which probably has something to do with the fact she�s pretty � boys are so predictable. Plus, I am a good judge of character.
Anyhow, a few days later she told me she definitely wants to live with us. So I�m one part excited, because it will be nice to have another girl around for the girly stuff, and she�s not one of those irritatingly petty girls who constantly giggles about boys and bitches about other girls (making me wish I was standing on a cliff so I had the option of a jump)�no, she�s a bit of a tom boy, essentially.
Like me, she�s a writer and a neat freak, adores books and coffee, gets on better with boys than girls, is generally up for most stuff, likes cooking and baking and still enjoys the girlier things in life like nail varnish and flowery perfume. So, in that respect it will actually be really nice to have her around, and we�re already becoming great friends. But I�m also worried the house dynamic will change even more than it has. I mean, it�s inevitable really isn�t it? You introduce a new element and everything shifts around.
Basically, I�m being a coward. I�m afraid of my relationships changing yet again. In some ways I deal with change admirably, others�not so much. I also feel that silly pressure, the one that tells me I only have room for a certain amount of good friends at one time, because they always seem to want so much from me. I�m worried it will be too much � that I�ll be portioning too much of myself off if I have three good friends in the same household�like there won�t be enough of me left to myself.
It�s ridiculous I know�but by god is it making me paranoid. But I�m not going to back out now. I don�t abandon a friend in need, and I need to stop being so selfish�and so worried for nothing.
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I�ve been in a really funny and disinterested mood the past few days and I wish it would go away. I can�t bring myself to want to go to lectures, and I just want to sleep all the time. I�ve skipped out on two today already, even though I did actually manage to successfully complete my weblog last night and write up my interview this morning.
I haven�t been doing my reading � that�s my problem. It�s like books are the anti-me at the moment. Everytime I pick up some required reading, or even recreational reading, I put it back down again with a sigh. Plus, my poetry module feels like it�s kicking my ass � I really don�t think I could ever be a poet.
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I took my lip piercing out. I had to take it out for the passport photos for my police check and I decided to keep it out. Only Fran at work noticed which kind of made me laugh. People don�t seem to notice when I have piercings � it was the same with my nose. I kind of miss it � I keep pulling the left corner of my bottom lip into my mouth like I�m being coy, when really it�s habit from playing with the labret.
I have this urge to get a tattoo now I�ve taken it out. Like I�ve got to make up for it someplace else. I�m going to start researching ways to change my left wrist tattoo and I think I�ll do it in a couple of months � when I get my money in April. That will give me something to look forward to.
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I forget if I mentioned my Dad sent me a Christmas card. It was kind of odd really. I recognised his hand-writing immediately and knew it was from him. The always cynical and judgemental part of me was disappointed it wasn�t a birthday card, and the little girl in me was touched her Daddy remembered her at all. Especially when I just suddenly stopped speaking to him two years ago. Now I need to work out how to reconcile the two of them and decide whether or not to write back.
He doesn�t know I changed my name and he doesn�t know I�m at University. It never really occurred to me that he�d care, about the latter (I�m worried he�ll care too much about the former) until Noodle said to me, �You�re his daughter, don�t you think he�d want to know you�re at University?� But I seriously don�t know what to do. Bobby�s great advice was, �You already know what to do.� Well that�s just completely untrue � nothing is ever as simple as that. *sighs*
I�m taking some time to think about it � and by that I mean I�m procrastinating and getting no closer to a decision than I was when I received the card.
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I put my Great Grandmother�s cross on my good luck necklace today. It only has two other charms on it � a white enamel cloud with gold edging and a gold filigree skeleton key lock. The cross is gorgeous � about three inches long and carved out of some brown marbled stone with gold filigree flowers carved into it. I don�t care that I�m not religious, though I can tell it will probably cause questions.
I�ve decided though, that I�d like to read the bible. It keeps popping up in my lessons in various forms and I feel like I don�t know it well enough to judge it the way I do. So that is my next mission after I finish Dorian Gray.
A shit load of contradictions, wrapped up neatly, with a nice pretty bow.
Reading. Writing. Zoos & Animal Parks. Bowling. Coffee Ice-cream. Blues Rock/Alternative/Indie Music. Fallen Angels. Wild Flowers. Pastrami. Vanilla Coke. Autumn. Harry Potter. Driving. Turquoise. Southern Comfort. Aviators. Semolina. Christmas. Museums. Dream Catchers. Roller Coasters. Tattoos. Winter Cider. Philosophy. Vintage Shops. Night time. Chinese Lanterns. Hoop earrings. Sci-Fi. Flowery Skirts. Mythical Creatures. Weeping Willows. Castles. Yankee Candles. Rainy Mornings. Ballet Pumps. Baking. Art Galleries. Long pendants. Quills and Ink. Spiced Rum. Libraries. Sleeping. Converse. Forests. Banana Milk. Venetian Masks. Poetry. Fireworks. US License Plates. Graveyards. Quotes. White Chocolate. Cats. Stars. Scrap Books. Shopping. Metallic Nail Varnish. Keepsakes. Phoenixes. Golden Grahams. Horror Movies. Tea (Esp. Rose Earl Grey). Lemonade Shower Gel. Travelling. Tragic Love. Piercings. Old Book & New Sponge Smells. Storms. Witty People. Cherries. Colourful Socks. American Dramas. Airports. Aston Martins. Hazelnut Lattes. Cowboys. Skeleton Keys. Cajun Chicken. Ivy. Dreams. Cinnamon Waffles. Old London. French Cheese. Trilby Hats. Antiques. Colourful Plasters. Postcards. Colourful paperclips. Bangles. Marvel & DC Comics. Key rings. Notebooks.
Dishonesty. Racism. Narrow-Mindedness. Idiocy. Unwarranted Violence. Neglective Parents. Bullying. Unearned Respect. Betrayal. Extreme Heat. Bright Lights. Sickness. Mushrooms & Olives. Alarm Clocks. Unfounded Jealousy. South African Accents. Celebrity Biographies. Suffocating Presences. Restrictions. Superficial people. Game playing. Routines.
Robert Frost Leather Bound Journal.
Small Vinyl Book Ends.
Astro Star Lamp.
designer
joy.deprived