Tuesday, September 27, 2005

'Tis the season of the New Pencil Case.

I wrote a post yesterday. I'm not going to claim that it was a terribly good post, but I wrote it and then Blogger decided to spit it out into the swirling ether of the 'ternet, never to be seen again. I was a bit relieved, actually, as it was a complain-y sort of a post, and you wouldn't have liked it. I didn't like it. But I do still feel like, as its creator, I should be the one to decide whether it was fit for the consumption of others or not. Stupid Blogger, ruining my life.

Anyway. The gist of it was about how a whole year has passed since I graduated (more than a year, but I counted the summer holidays last year as university time). It was about how strange that is, and how it feels like loads has happened, but also that nothing really has. It depends how you choose to measure it.

Ways To Measure The Year (a concept ruthlessly stolen from the musical 'Rent'):

Boyfriends: Three.
Jobs: Three and some exciting temping.
Addresses: Two.
Steps taken to further career: Some. Not sure how big they were, though.
Blogs: One. Little one.
Tattoos: One.
Bottles of wine consumed: One. And a half. Maybe. Give or take.
Hairstyles: Two. Sort of. In that I now push my fringe to the side.
Robbers encountered: One.
Flirations with strangers on the tube: Three hundred and sixty five multiplied by twenty?... Ooh lots.
Fun times: So many. Too many. My bank account will testify.
Shit times: Also too many. But in the words of Jill Scott "sometimes we've all got to swim upstream". (nods wisely) True, Jill, true.
Friends made: Loads. Really, actually, loads.
Friends lost: One or two.

Anyway. It's been eventful. There've been some really, really rubbish times, when I've felt like I couldn't get up, let alone go on. I know myself, I know there will always be those times, because that is part of who I am, like it or not. I am capable of deep depression and ecstatic highs. I've learnt that in the last year. I've also learnt that there are some people who cannot understand that, who will not understand that, and some of those people, whilst not understanding, can accept it. Some can't. And that can be shit. But it's the Way Things Are.

If you know what I mean. That last paragraph was a bit tangled up.

Does there come a time when you stop thinking in academic years? Autumn will always be the start of a new year to me, I think. And it's nice because, to quote Bridget Jones, it is also the season of New Boots. For which I say this: HURRAY!

So. Here's to a new year. May it bring more fun times, more new friends, and perhaps another bottle and a half of wine along the way.

8 Comments:

Blogger Anon said...

Only one and a half bottles of wine? Come on, come clean, its gotta be more!

On a totally different note, i'd love to get a tat but it'll be with me forever so i need to make the right choice! If you don't mind me asking... what's it of? If you do mind me asking just say, 'fuck off', i won't be offended, honest.

12:03 pm

 
Blogger Léonie said...

Alright, alright, you got me. Two bottles, max.

My tattoo is on my lower back on the left hand side and it is a thing I designed myself. It's a design that I'd been drawing for years - a bit like a treble clef, shape-wise. About three inches by one, and black.

I LOVE tattoos. I'm not sure quite why. Where were you thinking about getting one (if you don't mind me asking) (we're so polite).

12:37 pm

 
Blogger chindi said...

When I was 15, I think, I shaved the sides of my head and had a mohawk (when up). Since the hair was real long, I could cover the sides and my parents didn't notice for days. When my mom did, she freaked (good thing I had washed the hair dye out). One of the things she told me was "No peircings and no tattoos." And you know what, to this day 12 years later, I still have nothing peirced nor do I have any tattoos. My brother is a different story and he's younger. But, I digress. I just went and looked into getting one. Now all I need is the money to pay for it.

12:53 pm

 
Blogger Anon said...

Well, being polite is the British way.

I really wanted something on either one of my forearms for a while then decided that it would look a bit much. Especially the massive gothic cross that I picked out. I’ll probably go for one on my back. Either one of my shoulders, so it can be covered by a t-shirt. I just don't know what to get. I’ve just been doing the same as Doug, looking at getting one, whether or not I make the plunge is a different story.

1:30 pm

 
Blogger Kelly said...

Aggghhh needdles *faints*

*Comes round* Ok, no tattoos for me.

However I really liked this post. I am coming up to a sort of anniversary for me and been thinking about writing a post along these lines. Might have to steal the concept ruthlessly stolen from the musical Rent!

5:21 pm

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

There does indeed come a time when you stop thinking in academic years. You'll know it happens when you hear from a friend of a friend that people are back on campus for school, and you say, "The kids are back in school ALREADY?" Then it has happened.

I find myself thinking in "lease years" - or when I lived in a particular apartment. My current era will be up at the end of Nov, when my current lease expires. (Seriously, that's how I have any clue what year anything happened in anymore - I try to remember what apartment I was living in.)

8:47 pm

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I also graduated a bit over a year ago, and it was so bizarre to hear about friends going back to school that first fall, but I thought it would be less weird the next year. It wasn't.

But I do point my finger and laugh at them when they seem to constantly be talking about midterm and final exams. Tee hee!

10:33 pm

 
Blogger Bug said...

I didn't even GO to uni so I can't do a rundown of my year, but I'm WELL impressed that you've had 3 boyfriends in a year. Go you good thing :)

5:04 am

 

Post a Comment

<< Home