十六，十七

Something you always think ‘what if’ about. 

Something you are proud of. 

~

The what if thing is really easy.

When I was little I always said I was going to be a vet when I grew up. This ambition was very simply premised on the fact that I adored animals, and found all of them fascinating without exception. I also liked how they never required me to be polite and come out from behind the sofa to say things to people; things like ‘Hello’, and whatever the appropriate answers might be to the questions *insert relative’s name here* might care to ask me by way of small talk.

Anyway, the point is that I lacked confidence. Everyone who tried to instil it in me over the years must ultimately have failed, because I still lack confidence. Painfully. While such character flaws are mostly acceptable in doe-eyed, cherub-blonde four-year-olds, they are a little less forgivable in  tired-eyed twenty-one-year-olds (with hair of god-knows-what-colour).

But up until the point where it started to matter, I aced everything I needed to ace in order to keep my early ambitions a possibility.  Then for some reason I lost all faith in my ability to continue my education in the sciences, and chose to study English, History, Classics and Philosophy to A Level. Which in turn killed all potentially lucrative options when it came to possible University courses. Despite the fact that I went on to do well in all of those things and my eventual university degree, I now very much doubt that I will ever become a Veterinary Surgeon. I lament my decisions from time to time… vets make a lot of money; I’m sure that’s almost worth the horror of having to stick your hand up cows’ backsides every now and then. Having made the choices I did back then, and followed them up in the way that I have, I often wonder nowadays if I’ll ever be able to make money out of doing anything I vaguely enjoy. Not to mention the fact that the confidence has waned still further as a result; simply not being terrified of anything I might possibly decide to do seems like an unattainable Holy Grail nowadays. I’ve backed myself into a corner so that I pretty much can’t avoid living a lie, and I’m tearing my hair out in my efforts to figure out which lie would be best to go for.

~

Something I’m Proud Of.

Hmm.

My little sister loves me?

.

Here is a picture of a stumpy dog and its owner walking in the sea at Filey:

~xx~

What am I to do with all this, Silence?

This made me giggle when it came up on my Facebook news feed this morning:

(This morning at 7.05 before I went to work. Tough times. I need every little bit of help I can get with facing the day, when the day happens to be Friday or Saturday…)

Also, I know it’s basically nothing at all, but this makes me smile:

http://www.usefulstudents.com/useful-times/archives/3219

Other than that, I find myself without very much to say. That may have something to do with the fact that I’m reeeeeally tired. I feel like I’m failing here, now. But seriously. No more words.

I’ll try harder tomorrow.

~xx~

Sunday Mornafternoon

It feels like morning to me, I only just woke up. It is, however, 1.47 PM as I begin writing this. Call me lazy if you like, but A) I was out last night, and B) I had work at 8am on Friday and Saturday and absolutely suck at getting to sleep any earlier than normal – normal being like, 1am on an average night – to compensate for the early mornings. I also seem to require more sleep than I used to these days, in order to function properly. I had some catching up to do.

So I haven’t done an awful lot yet, on this here Sunday. But I do already have a smile to share with you.

…

As a method of waking up I was listening to music on Spotify, which was set to shuffle. I recently transferred lots of music from my old computer back home to my laptop here, and so my music library expanded considerably. Cue the re-emergence in my life of some old forgotten gems.

One such gem was this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nsi3eqjY1UY

That particular song was grin-worthy for a number of reasons, (some of which I will probably forget whilst telling you about others, because I’m stoopid like that, but) not least the fact -Yes, Fact, bitchez- that it is an awesome song.

See, when I was little (and when I was a bit bigger, and then a bit bigger than that, and right up until I was only a little smaller than I am now) that song was one of the best ones from all the crap – term used loosely – that my parents used to put on regularly. We had a pretty decent Hi-Fi system in the front room, and some of the best days of my life at home were the weekend days – usually lazy Sunday aftermornings like this one –  where I would be woken up by whatever CD, or vinyl back in the early days, Ma or Da had decided to have breakfast to that day. Led Zep’s Physical Graffiti, and this song in particular, was a favourite of mine. If I hadn’t been so shy I would have danced my way into my little-girl clothes, to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then down the hallway (our house was a bungalow until dad rebuilt it into a big house a few years ago) to the kitchen. But but but someone might have laughed at me. So I did not do so. Rest assured that nowadays when I hear this song, I usually do dance. Just a little. Secretly, in front of no-one. I still think it’s a great song to wake up with. My Dad was/is, besides the Led Zep,an AC/DC, Guns n’ Roses, Cult, Rolling Stones, Who type of guy. My Mum was/is a David Bowie, Beatles, Blondie, Cure, Talking Heads, ELO type girl. Their preferences met in the middle somewhere around Pink Floyd. I owe them an awful lot in terms of music taste, but shhhh don’t tell them that. *wink wink*

Another reason why that song brings a smile to my face is that it is the perfect illustrator of that classic scenario I call ‘I-Never-Had-The-Faintest-Clue-That-It-Was-All-About-Sex,Back-Then’. I don’t know when it dawned on me, but the grin has been wider since it did.

So there you go. Incidentally, it’s my Mum’s birthday tomorrow and my Dad’s on Saturday. So I’mma goin’ home soon, which is another nice thought.

(It’s at this point I worry a little, as there’s a small chance Ma might have figured out how to read this blog. Hi Mum?).

Oooh Look, A Squirrel! –

…

Hope y’all enjoy your Sunday.

~xx~

The problem with making bold statements

Like the one about chasing bears up trees the other day,

Is that the feeling never lasts.

I spent 90% of yesterday – well, the part of yesterday where I wasn’t at work faking friendly-happy-awake, anyway – sleeping. And I only woke up an hour ago. I can’t help but think this is a very bad thing. *Here-I-go-again-Eye-roll*

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was all a little less predictable. I mean… every time. Every single time. So slowly and so gradually, and yet not so slow or gradual that I’m not acutely aware that it’s happening. Enough that the people around me aren’t, mind. (Unless I try to tell them. Which I tend to do to the people “around me”, not the people around me. Sorry guys. Also, it may be worth pointing out at this juncture that no amount of *cuddles* and indeed probably no amount of cuddles, is going to change a damned thing. Then again, it may be worth keeping quiet about that detail after all. Everybody knows that it’s the thought that counts).

On the plus side I had a dream, during my far-too-much-sleep last night, that a massive spider bit me on my heel. (This is odd, because I’m not usually afraid of spiders. That said, I’ve never actually met one that could bite). So I’m gradually losing the ability to walk as I lose all feeling in my right leg. I struggle on, because I seem to have somewhere to be. For some reason I am in a castle – a really cold, old, grey castle – frantically trying to find the people who are supposed to be there with me. In classic dream tradition I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with this mission, even before the spider bite. Then I fall headlong down a gigantic flight of stairs. It gets darker and darker outside, and colder and colder inside, while I keep trying to get up and just can’t. Strangely, there is no pain from any of the multiple horrific injuries I must have sustained in the fall.  Maybe it’s the spider venom spreading through my whole body. The only thing I can feel, vividly, is the icy cold of the stone floor against my cheek when I finally give in. Oh, and the steady footfalls of a second spider making its way along the inside of my left arm. (Look up how tarantulas walk).

(There was also something at some point – a separate dream – about one of my old best friends being pregnant, and me being really angry with her for it, but let’s not go into that).

I like it when I can remember my dreams. Especially when they’re bordering on horror movie material.

(Hello, hello, hello, hello how low).

…

Today’s smile, then. Or yesterday’s smile. Or just A Smile. Because that was originally the point of this thang, y’all.

Erm…

Ooh. I found out yesterday that Apple Strudel – my baby (my first goldfish) – is still alive, having fully recovered from the horrifying diseases she’s been suffering from lately as a result of my introduction of Chuck Norris/Ed Sheeran (god rest his soul) to the tank. (I took them home with me when I went the other week, because they were sick and I didn’t want them to die and fester in my room while I was away. Then I didn’t dare bring Strudel back with me because she was at death’s door and I didn’t think she’d survive the car journey. I miss her and her swimmy little ways. Sad face).

Look how pretty she is:

 

…

(A denial, A denial, A denial, A denial, A denial…)

…

~xx~