Monday 22 February 2010

The joys of being poor.

I am poor, no doubt about it. But as a student its no longer skanky right?

Here are a few things, good and bad that I've noticed about being poor.


1) You dont feel obliged to buy drinks, because you know you'd have to sell your shoes to do so, and no one expects that of you.


2) Taxi drivers feel sorry for you when you start fishing coppers out of your sock-come-purse and let you off with a lower fare.


3) People notice that you've been wearing those socks for a good three days because you can't afford washing.


4) Your nan has better clothes than you. (not entirely unusual)


5) Asda price vodka freezes...


6) When someone charges you more than 2 pound for a drink you raise your eyebrows and sigh.


7) Getting your drink spiked doesnt seem so bad after all.


8) Finding 5pence is the best thing that happened to you all day.


9) Anything more than 4pence for noodles is 'extortionate'


10) You broaden your social web - Hobo's aren't all bad.


11) You limit your bog roll use : 1 piece for a wizzle, 2 pieces for a poop, unless it is a hangover poo, in which case you can use up to five, but drip dry next time to make up for it.


12) You get thin, because you cant actually afford anything other than space raiders and peas.


Sunday 21 February 2010

My first reflective walk in Bournemouth.

Today I woke up and felt a little unsettled. No reason. Just felt off, a bit uncomfortable.

Back at home I would walk across the beach by my house, climb up on a rock and sing or just gaze at the vastness of the ocean.
Today I walked down to Bournemouth beach which isn't half as nice or private as the ones we have at home but it's still pretty. I brought my notebook, a pen and my ipod.
I left my phone at my flat- nature and modern technology should never be side by side.

I walked away from the chaos of the main beach and headed up towards Boscombe. My music was on, set to Dashboard Confessional and City and Colour, I climbed onto a groyne and walked along it until I was surrounded by the water crashing at the wooden legs. I like it when the sea matches my mood. I looked across the water, it was never ending, I love how the sea makes you feel tiny, like there's so much more than what is yours.

I stood there for at least 2o minutes, just listening and looking. I sang so loud, no longer caring if anyone was nearby. I cried a lot. For nothing but my own satisfaction and the release of letting go.

Back at the shore, I wrote, the sea always makes me write. I wrote about anything that came into my head, disjointed and scrawly.
I wrote part of a song- a chorus and two verses. I needed James there to make the tune in my head beautiful on his accoustic. And right then I knew what was wrong, I missed home, for the first time since September. And I didn't miss my family or the nightlife or even my friends very much. I just missed having somewhere I could call my own.

At home Waterwynch beach is mine, no one goes there and it's where I've had my most emotional times, sometimes being there from early morning until dusk. It's tiny but it's full of my secrets and sorrys and happy moments.

Nothing here yet has my identity scraped into it, where it will never fade.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy, I'm the happiest I've been for years, my future is in view and I can shape it whichever way I want to.
Everyday I wake up proud that I've gotten where I am, that I worked hard enough to make my aspirations possible.

This post is full of cliches, but I dont even care. It's my truth.

Saturday 20 February 2010

Everyone is dispersing.

It's come that time in my life when everyone around me leaves, not in a horrible, abandoning, depressing way, more a kind of growing up sort of way.

Most of us girls are in uni now, and we are no longer the girls that get invited to all the parties or the girls whose parties everyone wants to be invited to.
Now we are just girls.

We are all off, outside our small town bubble, trying to make something of ourselves without all of our previous components.
We were pretty tight knit before we left and now we hardly speak.

One of my best friends Biki is going travelling soon. She has been such a fantastic friend, there through the tough times and the fun times.
She's been there when I cared what boys think, when I didn't care, when I pretended I didn't care and when I didn't know how to care.
She has the most amazing smile in the world, and the most contagious giggle.
She is a true gem and I will really really REALLY miss her, which counts for a hell of a lot these days.
Sometimes I'm not sure who my real freinds are, I have uni friends and flatmates, friends from home and abroad, but I sometimes wonder which ones would still stand strong when I was at my worst.
'Cause that's how freindship works isn't it? You can't just be there for the fair weather, you have to be there in the thunder and lightning, carrying a spare umbrella to protect each other from the rain.

Friends who were as close to me as a sister no longer seem to care where I am or what I'm doing, and that is the saddest part of all about growing up.
They aren't mean or rude, I'm just not in there mind anymore, it's no-one's fault but that doesn't stop it hurting.

I suppose this part of my life is the part I have to do on my own, just like everyone else, and then it will all make sense, one would hope.

Friday 19 February 2010

Lent - carb city.

For lent I decided to give up meat and alcohol, I am not religious, but I like to test my self restraint every now and again.
Its Day 3 and I'm feeling quite good about it all, apart from that dreaded food group...CARBS.
don't get me wrong I like carbs, I LOVE carbs, but that is of course the problem.
Being vegetarian kinda restricts your diet if you don't know how to cook fantastic vegetarian food.
So day 1 I strutted into ASDA filling my trolley gallantly with fruit and veg (hiding the pizza of course) and waving about pro-biotic yoghurt like I was actually going to eat it.
Half way round the store I gazed into my trolley and was struck with fear - what the fuck could I cook with all this?
I mean, I love veg and I can happily eat a plate of it, but 2 meals a day for 40 days? Really?
So I casually jogged over to the frozen section with desperation in my eyes. Isle 12 - ' frozen vegetarian ' - worrying.
I grabbed as much imitation meat as possible, hiding it under my elaborate vegetables(artichoke is FOUL by the way) and proceeded to the checkout in the hope that this new diet would make me super thin and fabulous in everyway.
Boy was I wrong. I have gained an estimated 4lbs and am consuming at least 4 pieces of bread a day, a carb that was previously strictly banned from my diet. Not to mention the 2 bags of crisps and occasional raw potatoe when times are tough.

To cut to the chase, I'm getting fat AND I lost my gym card, the chances of getting laid are getting smaller and smaller, whereas I am getting larger and larger.

But hey, here's hoping my body will for ONCE obey my wishes and drop a bit of jelloid deposits, preferably from my stomach, please.

Thursday 18 February 2010

Chatroulette - what a blast.


Last night, I found myself typing in that dreaded URL for the first time, yes, I was indeed a chatroulette virgin. Thinking it would be fairly tolerable, and maybe a chance to laugh at girls who put on a full face of make-up and smile sweetly in the hope that they'll meet their dream man online. I was wrong.
There was very little in the way of savoury entertainment, I've never seen so many dicks in my life. Seriously. The first time I saw some faceless man wanking off infront of his webcam I saw myself blush onscreen. The second I was shocked and by the 6th I was laughing.

It does bother me that people must sit there waiting for someone to enjoy their exhibitionistic outlet. Many men first seemed nice enough, "where are you from? how are you?" etc, but as soon as the basics were covered it turned more into "I want to see British titties". Hmmm. No.

The basic rules of chat roulette are that you have your webcam on and you can talk to people all across the world, when you get bored, jsut click 'next' and your gone, off to a new stranger.

The whole idea has very good intentions, bringing people all over the world together in seconds. But the outcome is more like a montage of porn juxtaposed with fifteen year old girls in their bra's.

At one point 6 of my housemates were in my room with a blow up, naked doll, showing the men her breasts when requesting some 'boobies'. It was funny for a while.
A few times I've actually come across some really interesting/ funny people, who I will never see again. Which I suppose is the beauty of it.

People sit around with all sorts of props, I met some guys dressed as a hostage and a terrorist with a sign saying ' show boobs to save hostage'.

There are also some really disturbing things on there. One of them was a man hanging in the corner of a room, which I presume is a picture and not real life, but still, considering there is no need for proof of age its worrying that 12 year olds could be watching these things.

The internet has broadened our social web but also narrowed it. When was the last time you spoke to a facebook friend in real life? I bet some of mine are more than 6 months.
This need for short term friendship is both exciting and exhausting, and that reflects my real life situations. Sometimes I feel completely out of sociability, I put my ipod in and mute everything around me.
I'm constantly on facebook or blackberry messenger or texting. Its not real, and it's making us lose out on the beauty of real experiences, and actually clicking with people and being able to talk for hours on end, without the aid of a time delay to think of some witty comeback.

I sometimes wonder if I'm shooting myself in the foot trying to meet new people all the time in the hope that one of them will actaully be worht my time.

Maybe looking too hard for another component is whats making me this one (wo)man band.