I just had to tell someone...

... so let me just tell the whole internet.

I've been away for a few weeks now (might write about it later, might not). Currently staying at a hotel in Orlando.

And I have the biggest crush EVER on the guy who works the front desk at nights.

There. I said it. He's so tall, and gorgeous. And he said my accent was cute. AND he said he liked my new t-shirt (it's MIB-inspired).

I still like my boyfriend. I promise.

But this man is just so good-looking. He has a good voice as well, deep. Southern accent. Just makes me want to ruffle my taffeta and my long skirts and invite him to my impossibly large mansion for lemonade on the porch. (Yes.)

Maybe I'm just starved of that sort of attention. So when I've not seen my boyfriend for a month and an attractive man comes along, does his job (i.e. he's competent and friendly) and tells me that English accents are cute, I'm going to notice him.

I didn't do anything though. Don't really want to. (Window shopping is much better.) Although when I asked him to help me find my brother in the bathroom tonight (he'd gone missing), there was a lady who was like "What's the problem?" and I'm like "There's no problem" and she's like "Suuuuuuure" and I KNOW she thought I was going to have one with him in the bathroom. That's kinda gross. (If it's going to be public, choose somewhere more hygenic, or more inventive, while you're at it. The gym? The computer room? How about a conference room?)

I'll forget about him soon, no doubt. He'll just be a gorgeous hazy memory after we check out on Friday.

But, it doesn't stop him from being some very good eye candy for the next day.

I want my boyfriend back. Sadface.

Hold your hats, folks!

At some point, I made a calendar of the last three weeks of term. I had planned for a couple people to come visit, as well as the Pride-y, debate-y things I'd hoped to do. Attend all the socials, read and gym in the gaps between.

What actually happened is some Tristan time, and lots of other random things creeping in. LGBT Midlands Coalition meetings, WSAF gigs, meetings with David Preiss (DAVID PREISS!), and so on.

In particular, the last five days have been particularly challenging. I suppose I didn't realise quite how challenging until last night, when, in a delirious haze of exhaustion and headpain, I made a cake and then fell asleep almost instantly.

So. This is what I have done recently.

Thursday: Meeting with David Preiss about 4th year project. To get ready for this, I'd had to read a 12-page document, and then read as much as I could about integration in general. On top of this, my brother had given me a piece of work to do too (writing some text for a website), due for Friday. So, already, the week had been quite full of writing and reading. The meeting went really well, then as soon as it was over, Tristan and I drove madly down the motorway to get to my brother's prize giving. After mingling and wine and dinner and "look this is the family house", we drove all the way back.

Friday: At some point in the early morning, say 3:30, we fell asleep. (I don't have a great deal to say about that bit apart from that it was both fun and amazing.) Woke up, eventually, got my brother's work done and emailed to him by the deadline, then rushed into the shower to see my housemate's band play their final ever gig, at WSAF. Came home, made food, went back out, Crash time. Oh, Crash. Drunken, dance-fuelled madness. Nick, Richard, Zal, Mash, Buzz, Engineering Matt, faces and crowds and wonderful things.

Saturday: Entirely unwonderful things, to start. Including lots of chundering. (I did party extremely hard). Hangover started to subside at about 4 or 5, just in time to rush into the shower AGAIN and get to campus in time for dinner in the Duck and watching more bands play at WSAF including the very fun Lilac Joke, and the ever-awesome Hot Magenta. Then, onto Last Exit. More bands, more dancing, and GUITAR HERO which was really good. I chose to play King Crimson. Seven minutes of guitar noodling at an almost impossible pace. Then, Matt and Buzz played Rush, "The Spirit Of Radio". LOL. That was hilariously awful. But, impossible to play. In the end, it turned out that Matt and Buzz had been looking at each other's corners, so they were playing the wrong stuff :P (Matt still won though). After a while, Tash and I crashed out, so Mash and I went home.

Sunday: A relatively relaxing day. Bus trips around the Canley area to pick up icing pens, since my local supermarket doesn't sell them big enough, and it was too hot to walk around, hence the bus. Finally got home, made some chocolate cake, watched England get thrashed. Iced the cake, decorated the cake, went to campus and back to give Katie a disc for the last acronym film social. Early bed time in time for the day ahead.

Monday: 6:45am start, for a 7:45am taxi onto campus, arriving minutes to 8, to await my lift. Why this horrifically real-person start? To teach debating at a school in the Banbury area! A full day with a group of Year 12s. I had a crib sheet, and it worked pretty well. I was nervous at first, but I grew to feed off their enthusiasm and really enjoyed watching the quieter girls grow in confidence over the course of the day. Lunch was 25 minutes, break was 10, the whole day finished at about 5 or so. Got to campus again at about 6 ish. Went to see Tristan. Began to feel kinda tired. Realised I had a cake to make for him. Took a taxi home, collapsed a bit. After resting for a while, I dragged myself outside to get Chinese takeout and then came home and ate it. I felt a bit better, so made the cake bases. By now, it was approaching 10. I realised I didn't have enough icing sugar. Left the house again to get it. Called home; a family member had died. I'm borrowing some of Mom's black clothes to wear for the funeral. (My first ever funeral, occurring the day before we go on holiday.) Mom'd also been to A&E, for some really bad allergic reaction she had. Got home eventually, icing sugar in tow, fell asleep for about 30 minutes. I couldn't help it, I was just so tired and hurty. All the lights and sounds of the house were just throbbing in my head and my eyes. However, I got myself up, took some Norah Jones downstairs on Audrey and dimmed the lights in the kitchen and iced the cake. After this epic set of manly endeavours, I went to bed and passed out.

I'm not sure exactly what possessed me to ignore everything my body was telling me, so I could finish that cake. It's like I found a strength somewhere. I'm glad I did it though. Not sure I'd have forgiven myself if I hadn't. Cake is SRS BSNS.

I guess people do crazy things when they're in... summertime. Yes, when they are in summertime. (That is clearly the word I want to use.)

A thought.

It often occurs to me that there are a lot of memories I have, involving all sorts of people. (Pizza Hut Dan, Emile, Phil, that maths teacher at Bows, Blonde Joseph, not-very-Scottish James, Jack in Year 3, Decimating Ben, Swedish-Israeli Ben, three Matts, Tom E and Tom F, all the Davids/Daves, Bethany, Jewish Richard...)

They might have forgotten me. Several of them probably have. I know, I've probably forgotten some people who remember me.

There's plenty of one-sided memories out there. But, I'd like to hope that I'm remembered by people. The idea of just dying with nobody remembering who you are doesn't appeal to me much.

Playing games.

David and I have been dancing. Around each other, as opposed to with each other. Complicated, convoluted paths spiralling around the house. Patterns to follow.

In a way, I'm almost enjoying it. There's only one real way of dealing with him. Play his game.

He won't leave his room if he knows I'm on the landing. He'll move his food preparations in the kitchen so he's as far away from me as possible. He'll leave any communal area I enter.

So, I play. I spend slightly more time walking up the stairs if I know he's waiting in his room for me to leave. I'll deliberately find myself requiring all the areas of the kitchen when preparing something, just to see if he will move every single time I do.

I know it's a little childish, playing the game because he's childish enough to start it. But I just want him to punch me in the face. This situation where we can't clear the air seems really unhealthy. But, I suppose if we were never able to be honest when we were in a relationship, it seems even less likely we'd be able to communicate after it fell apart.

There was one time, a couple days ago, when I was entering the kitchen, and he instinctively began to greet me, but swallowed it, and just made a small "Oh" noise; a mix of disgust and disappointment that I wasn't Matt or Gary (how you can confuse a short black female-type for tall white men, I honestly don't know.) I'd like to think that this whole not-talking, not-seeing, not-interacting thing is just him being incredibly stubborn, as opposed to him genuinely not wanting to talk to me.

But, it's almost impossible to say. I don't know who he is. I never really did.

(I should really start writing some songs/poetry about this.)

Where is my mind?

Woke up again for the second time by my alarm clock. Normally I wake up a few minutes before it, but I didn't today, and I didn't yesterday. Took me half an hour to get out of bed. I'll wake up eventually, but currently, I'm quite tired.

Living here drains me. My sugar moves, I can't use the kitchen without impeccable timing or stubborn determination, I have to consider the cost-benefit analysis of having a conversation in the house. I can't invite anyone over without pissing him off. I've only got a calendar month left here, but there's enough stress to be dealing with already without not having a home to chill out in.

I'm cold. I have to wear two pairs of everything and a dressing gown to stop shivering. It's May. That doesn't seem right.

I listened to my massive amount of Beatles last night. Played "Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand" quite a lot.

I've been talking a lot to A. Ever since first year, I've always wondered whether it was healthy to have such a firm foot in my past, specifically a part of my past that hasn't always been good. But, we're talking a lot right now and I think that the more I worry about Something happening, the more likely it is that something will. But, I'm pretty sure that I can just about handle hanging out with him and not having sex. I'm kinda excited about having a proper friendship with him - we never really had one first time round.

I have to shop today. I've run out of basics, but I've also run out of money. All I have to do is buy enough to survive until Thursday morning.

The sky is blue, with a few puffy clouds. One looks like a unicorn goring a badger. Another one looks like a pregnant goat.

I should get dressed and start my day properly. Gotta stay upbeat, nothing else to do... ^^

Tiffany Blews

I have no idea what this song is about really. The band Yes have songs where the lyrics are nothing more than a collection of words that sound gorgeous together; they mean nothing, they are nonsensical. If you listened, it becomes very clear it's not supposed to make sense. Fall Out Boy tricked me into thinking this song made sense, and then you read the lyrics, and really, it's no better than Yes, except Yes were never setting out to make sense.

I find myself at a loss for words, at the moment. There are a hundred thousand words, battling for attention in my head, but they seem to refuse to co-operate and line themselves up in an orderly fashion, so I can tell you, my literate audience, what's going on. Maybe bullet points will help.

• I'm seeing someone new.
• He is my best friend. (was, is? I'm not sure.)
• My most recent ex lives in his house.
• My second most recent ex lives in my house.
• Consequently, we both live in our own versions of An Awkward House.
  
• We have a Guitar Hero band. It's called Unicorn Parade.

That's basically the gist of it. Bullet points did help. First time La Roux did the song "Bulletproof", it was actually about how she uses bullet points to help her write, except her agent didn't think it would work as well in clubs if it was about bullet points, cos they're not sexy. THEY WERE WRONG! Bullet points are beautiful.

I have exams starting today. I'm most confident about the ones coming first, so I can just get through them, do my best, and cram like a loon for the hard ones.

Everything I've learnt this year is being put to the test. And, I hate it when people say, "Good luck," because, if you prepared well, learned from what you did wrong before, if you understand where your gaps in knowledge lie, then you don't need to be lucky. You can just go and do a good job Avoid the bits you can't do, make up for it by doing a kick-ass job in the places you know you can. Luck is for the ill-prepared, it seems.

(Wish me luck for my algebra modules.)

27

This is probably one of my favourite songs, there are some really interesting phrases. Not sure if they all work together, but as snapshots of songwriting flair, it's not bad. It's really not that bad.

It's just about being lost in a world you don't recognise, being flung into a world of stars and tours and not seeing your family for months. Sex, drugs, parties, late nights, loud music, bright lights, city living.

So far, it's Day 3. Time passes so slowly when you're thinking about it in the present, but then, before you know it, you're at Sunday, and your exams are tomorrow, and have you done enough? Day 3. Of course, it feels longer, since I was pretty single after the penultimate time I called and he said, "I won't see you for an indefinite time." I didn't have a boyfriend; I had someone who was on my Recently Called list. But, in fact, it has only been three days officially.

I need to think of something to do, use the rest of my 11 obligatory days effectively. Of course, once I get out of 11 days, I have the rest of my (lonely?) single life ahead of me - joy! I really ought to do some song-writing really soon. I want to be able to give myself the time to do it, but not quite yet. There's so much to say, and everything always sounds so much more real when I sing it. It's one of the few times when I can't help but always be sincere, when I sing. (I guess why I'm so afraid of letting people see me sing properly.) Maybe on Sunday night, after my exec meeting, I can just chillax, write a whole bunch of stuff. I'm no Regina Spektor, but I like what I do.

What after the 11 days? Well, meet lots of new people, find most of them perfectly palatable, but ultimately, not quite right. I went to the election debate, they were showing it in the union, and I found a friend of mine, and sat with her, and her friends. And that's how I met Jeff/Geoff. He was kinda quiet, looked a bit pretentious - but he's a philosophy student, so I guess that can't be helped. He shook my hand very firmly, both when we met, and when we said goodbye. He seemed kinda boring, unfortunately. He didn't seem to be the type to get my off-the-wall type of humour. Of course, this is all first impression-y type stuff, so it could be wrong, but, you know, that's all you get first time round.

Then again, not many people get my humour. A kid from debating was at the debate too, and he pointed at the TV and asked me who I was supporting, and I said, "Arsenal, of course." He didn't get it, and I had to explain the joke and then he did get it, and everyone on my table was like "FAIL" and it was kinda funny. (Turns out that he also turns up sometimes to the Sunday Focus meeting I used to do in first year. I was thinking of Making An Appearance once in a while, they're a good bunch of people, and being cooked for on a Sunday is always nice.)

Ben was like that too. One time, we were having lunch in the school dinner hall, and we had the following exchange:

"I'll make a beeline towards you later."
"Why not a flyline, or waspline?"
*silence* "What?"
"Bee, fly, wasp. All flying insects."
"Yes, I did get it it was an attempt at humour. It just wasn't funny."

Yeah, he was a little harsh sometimes. Such is life.

What A Catch, Donnie.

I've got troubled thoughts, and the self-esteem to match. What a catch...

When I first heard Fall Out Boy were going on indefinite hiatus, this song just seemed like the perfect farewell. At the end, a bunch of people (Elvis Costello, Brendan Urie, etc) came and sang a couple lines from some Fall Out Boy songs while the chorus is looped over by Patrick, and it's really cool.

I always thought that quote summed me up to a T. Troubled thoughts, minimal self-esteem. I know that's it's not true. My life's only a mess when I do stuff I haven't thought through properly. When I actually think, my thoughts are pretty clear, and pretty sound. I am a smart person, I just don't use my smartness for some reason. I want to.

I was talking to a friend last night, and he asked me what kind of person I wanted to be. I thought about it for a bit, and I realised I wanted to be brave, kind and smart. It's totally doable. I think I am quite brave, especially when it comes to just approaching new people, not being nervous, and just talking to them. I am kind, when I remember that there's more to life that just what I'm doing. I can be smart, when I actually think about what I'm doing.

I do have self-esteem. I'm not the best person in the world - I'd be mad to think that - but I have definite positive features about my personality.

When I was younger, after I'd broken up with my first ever non-playground boyfriend (after treating him like crap and eventually calling it quits), I thought that somebody like me never really deserved to be with anyone genuinely good, someone who was kind and generous and loving, because I didn't know how to treat them properly. If I deserved anything, it would be someone who treated me badly and made me feel sad, in the way I made other people sad sometimes. I know that's not true. Everyone deserves a bit of happiness, I think.

I am a single person! Thus, another chapter of my life begins. Hopefully it'll be distinctly different from the ones I had before. I want something different this time round, I think. Sex is good, movies are too, but I think I want something more than just that.

...

There's so much I want to say. But, it's not the right time for it. I don't know if there will ever be a right time for it. Of course, you can spend your whole life not saying things that might change everything, because it's "not quite the right time", and then nothing ever really happens to you. Fortune favours the brave; history is made by those who show up; if you don't ask, you can't ever get an answer. I just have to try to be smart, and work out when the best time is, and be brave, and just say it.

It's like the end of When Harry Met Sally, when Sally's at a New Year's party dateless, and once Harry realises he's in love with her, he plucks up the courage to run to the party from his apartment to tell her. She says to him that he can't just show up and tell her he loves her and that'll fix everything, because it doesn't work that way. Before she can walk away, Harry grabs her and tells her various things that he loves about her (including the fact that he loves that it takes her an hour and half to order a sandwich.) He then finishes by saying:

I came here tonight because when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

Hopefully I'll be brave enough to tell them how I feel before someone else finds out how amazing they are. Another perfect quote from this (totally amazing!) movie:

All I'm saying is that somewhere out there is the man you are supposed to marry. And if you don't get him first, somebody else will, and you'll have to spend the rest of your life knowing that somebody else is married to your husband.

(Coffee's For Closers)

A friend of mine came over last night. I've known her since fresher year, but I'd never realised how similar we were, in terms of relationship-type stories. She talked about her exes, I talked about mine, and we just had a pretty good chat. I'll be seeing more of her soon, I hope. She was planning on doing her Masters in a place that wasn't Warwick, but it didn't work out the way she hoped and she figured having a good solid maths background from Warwick won't hurt, given she wants to do a PhD.

Using what I know, what she told me, and general social conventions and age-old wisdom tips, I think I've managed to work out the way you should break up with someone. (At last.)

1. Check you actually want to end the relationship. Are you just having a bad day? Is she just being a nightmare because she's stressed about exams? Is he being neglectful because he's having a personal crisis? Not everyone will be wonderful all the time, but there is a tipping point where you shouldn't have to take a sustained level of crapness.
   
2. Check you think that the relationship isn't fixable. If you're both willing to talk about the problems you have, and you're both willing to fix the broken bits, it's probably worth trying for a little while, and then talking about how you feel it's going. No relationship will ever be plain sailing forever; sometimes it'll just get hard and you both need to work to stay together. If either one of you wants out, and doesn't want to try, no amount of fixing from the other party will help.
   
3. "Let's have coffee. Tomorrow." Try and get it done as soon as possible (after you've established a relationship is unfixable, you don't want to convince yourself that it's somehow okay to stick around.) Do it in person, if at all possible. If you're in an LDR, a phone call is probably best. The relationship deserves respect, even if it is ending. A neutral ground, like a coffee shop, is a good place. They are less likely to get shouty or violent in public, you're not likely to accidentally have sex with them instead of breaking up (like if you were in their place to break up, say), you can both go home to separate places (or back home to the SAME PLACE if you live together. Awkward.) Might be a good idea to order decaf if you're nervous.
4. Explain why the relationship failed. With my Ex/Guy switcharoo, it would seem really obvious that I left Ex because I wanted to be with Guy instead. What actually happened is that the relationship failed because of reasons unrelated to Guy - he just happened to be at the right place at the right time. So, it's a good idea to explain why you're leaving. The less ambiguity you leave, the better. The recipient of breakups can sometimes see things in a distinctly illogical light for a really long time (paranoia, loneliness, depression, etc), and the clearer you make the explanation, the less illogical they can be before facts get in the way. Point out that a relationship is made of two people; just because you're doing the breaking up doesn't mean they're blamefree. Explain what they did wrong as well as what you did wrong.
   
5. Spend a fortnight single. This is an absolute minimum. If you end up meeting someone in those two weeks, and you think they happen to be The One, then hopefully waiting two weeks to date them won't ruin things too much. Basically, the gap is there so you can ask yourself: "Am I dating X to not be alone anymore, or because I really like them?" Plus, your ex is probably going to be sensitive about you dating. If you ever want their friendship, dating within hours of breaking up is probably not the way to go about it.
   
6. Date again, but remembering what you learnt from last time. Very few relationships are ever an entire waste of time, there's usually something positive you can say about them. Remember why you broke up. It's rarely just one person's fault when a relationship breaks up. Try to ensure that the stuff your partner did wrong before doesn't happen again, and try and fix the bits of you that weren't good last time round.
7. ...
8. PROFIT!
   

A sidenote: There's never a good time to break up with someone, but there are bad times which should be avoided unless absolutely unavoidable. Birthdays (yours or theirs), holidays (for example, Christmas, or Valentines Day), just before or during important exams. So, if you determine the relationship is unfixable on, say, December 24, I'd recommend letting the holiday period go by as painlessly as possible, and have a chat on January 4th or something (I'd have said the third, but that's my birthday).

And, as far as I can tell, that's all you have to do. Basically, it's sensitivity, communication, common sense, faith, trust and pixie dust. Now I have to make sure I do it properly this time. Last time I followed this routine, I did this:

1. I did want to end this. I'd been thinking about it for months.
   
2. It *might* have been fixable, but I wanted out. I don't think I wanted to work that hard. I don't think I realised that at some point, I would.
   
3. It was actually Earl Grey, and it was after months of thinking "Should I, shouldn't I?" and finally being persuaded by Guy.
4. I said the relationship was over, but didn't really articulate why, giving him full clearance to assume I'd been dating Guy for a month and was probably sleeping with him, and that I was leaving him for Guy, and that's why she's leaving. I really should have told him more.
5. Spending a fortnight single? Try an hour. (Ex really liked that bit better than anything else I did.)
   
6. Dating again... well, yeah. Guy and I do talk a lot more than Ex and I did about our relationship. And, I'm trying to give Guy some control of what we do, and what's going on, except he never really wants to take it, so we just float about rudderless and awkward until I eventually get things done.
7. ...
8. Profit, of sorts. I got out of one relationship I couldn't stand, but now I'm in one I don't particularly like either.
   

So, now I know how to do it properly (at least, more properly). Perhaps if there's more to add, or mistakes, there'll be additions and corrections. But, I think it's probably a good list.

Now, I just need to wait and think about what I'm doing, for once. Patience is a virtue that I am somewhat lacking in, but I'm getting much better at being patient and waiting for the right time. I just need to wait. And think.

(I'm secretly extremely hopeful for the future, in one particular respect. I won't tell you what that is, though. I just hope it doesn't all go wrong.)

Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet

This title refers to a baseball player that was notorious for sliding onto bases headfirst, instead of the traditional feetfirst. Then he got into trouble for cheating, so he wasn't allowed into the Hall of Fame, which is situated in Cooperstown. Feetfirst is probably a lot safer, right? After all, you're not potentially slamming your head into the ground that way... That'd hurt. A lot.

I ended up talking to my housemate briefly about What Happened with Ex and Guy. I cleared up a little; I wasn't actually officially dating him before I'd split up with Ex, although I admitted things had got out of hand. I think he's just staying well out of this, glad I found a new housemate to fill the empty room, a bit sad that there'll be no Curry Night due to awkward-weirdness. We're still friends, and we're going to have some pizza when he comes back this weekend.

I am pretty glad we're friends. Towards the end of the relationship, I found myself hanging out with him quite a lot, just chilling in his room, reading notes, or talking, or something. I'm finding it really hard now to be alone, and I'm glad he'll be around this term, to stop me just driving myself insane. We're not deep-soul-chat friends, but I know we're close in some ways. Camp Sarah isn't particularly popular at this time of year (when is it ever?!), but I reckon he wouldn't mind coming to visit.

I managed to do some fairly good work today. Finished off Measure Theory, wrote up the important results from the course. Afterwards, I picked up my guitar, and I started to play. I found myself starting to write a song. There's so much material I have to write about now: loss, love, life (other things beginning with letters that aren't L?). Got a germ of a good song so far, it's called Two Years. No prizes for guessing what that one's going to be about...

I remember, when I was in high school, I became a sound techie for the school production of Grease. I auditioned for an acting/dancing part initially. They had a secret ranking: so they'd say a word to you when they'd seen you perform and it was code for what they thought of you. (I recall that "banana" was the top ranking.) So, I was with my friends, and they have two left feet, and I have one left and one right, but they're not on speaking terms often, so they got the worst ranking, and I got the one just above that (which I am STILL pleased about!), and none of us got parts on stage. So, I became a techie instead.

I had a bit of a crush on a few of the backstagers, like my fellow sound worker, and the guy who was in the orchestra playing trumpet. But, I didn't say anything to them. Instead, I went home, and wrote letters to them that I had no intention of ever delivering. I did that for a couple of other people as well, friends that hadn't been very supportive, girls I wanted to get to know in a naked way, stuff like that.

I'm thinking I might write a couple letters at some point. Then, I'll go into the garden and burn them, and let the wind carry the ashes. I'm not massively spiritual, like I'd believe that them accidentally inhaling a particle of my letter would get them thinking about it, but... I dunno. I like the idea of my deepest desires just scattered about the world. Secrets that nobody can ever read.

The ITV Prime Ministers debate is on tonight! It's a very American idea, like a presidential debate. Luckily, the next title is "The (Shipped) Gold Standard", which means that I won't have to shoehorn my post about it into a title, it'll fit neatly, blister-free. All I'll say about it now is Nick Clegg's in it! It's like a two-and-a-half horse race... nearly. I'm pleased though. He's definitely the hottest out of the three that are going to be on. Plus, I actually like his policies. Vote Yellow, and all that. :)

Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes

This title is... insane! The actual song has nothing to do with disloyalty, ordering, water OR buffaloes. But, you know, let's see where we go from here:

Disloyal...

I've been practising being single. Sort of. It's more practising "not having a person around all who does the cooking and the cleaning". Which is entirely different, now that I think about it.

What I have with New Guy is very different to what I had before. It's friends with benefits, but with exclusivity. Sounds a lot like a Relationship, except he's given it a fairly firm expiry date, which... you know, a Relationship doesn't have one of those. Of course, if it turns out he actually sticks around, I'll be pretty thrilled and it'll be interesting to see how it works out. But, I'm not holding out for it. I'd be a fool to.

Order!

Being in the house alone has been quite a nice thing, actually. I play Fall Out Boy as loudly as I like, I always know how much milk I have at all times, I don't have to worry about setting the alarm on anyone, I don't have to be home for anyone. I've been steadily cleaning the house. Bathroom was last night, kitchen was this morning. Over the weekend, I plan to find to vacuum. So, the house will be all shiny and clean and pretty for everyone to come back to.

I'm actually enjoying looking after myself. I got so lazy before, I really did. I am totally capable of buying my own milk and beef, and carrying it home myself, and cooking for myself, and cleaning up after myself, and other things. I don't need anyone to do those things for me, and I really should do them myself.

Water.

My appetite's been a bit off lately. I only managed to eat half of my pasta bol last night, I had to tupperware the rest away. I ate one carrot stick and half a pitta bread dipped in hummous before giving up (I just wasn't hungry). At least I finished dinner today. I don't think I'm sick or anything, it's just a bit weird. I've been going into campus to work 11-3 the past few days. Maybe a bit more walking, and I'll feel okay... :)

Buffaloes!

"Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo." That is all.

F*ck this.

I hate feeling this way. I'm at home, so that's throwing up a whole lot of feelings. I've failed to mention any of the big things I wanted to this holiday (mostly David)... I know that Mom talking about wheatgrass paint and church-related drama isn't the most thrilling thing to sit through, but it's a conversation about something. She decided to tell me the stories, so that's something at least.

I feel so insecure. I know I am probably alright on my own. Like, I can be okay. I don't *require* people to support me. But it's difficult. I just feel pretty worthless to be honest.

I mean, logically, I can say quite confidently I'm not ugly, I'm kinda interesting (I knit, I like strange music, and I can get drunk off nothing but a good atmosphere), and I shouldn't feel so down about myself. I'm me! It's not that bad, really.

I feel like, once again, I've screwed it up. I didn't do it the way you're supposed to.

I really really want this to work out. And, part of it is so that I don't have to be alone, I'll admit that. But, there's more to it than that. I like him. I like him more than I like people I've known for years. It doesn't make sense, but there you go. I get excited at the idea of drinking coffee with him, for fuck's sake. I like watching TV type stuff with him, chilled out in his room. There's so many little things I like about him, things he does, things he says.

I'm scared he'll leave me. It's always seems to be the way it goes when I find someone; either I leave, or they do. Nobody ever stays. I found an email the other day, when Laney left me. Summary: "You're nice, but I don't really like you all that much and I'll probably just cheat on you when I get to uni, so, yeah. Sorry." I remember being really sad when she said that. She'd really grown on me by that point. I remember I had made her this thing out of Celebrations and Quality Street wrappers, it was really bright and colourful, and it had "Penny Laney" on it, cos that's what I called her. I think I threw it away when I read the email, but it stayed on my bedside table for quite a while before I did. For some reason, I just wanted to torture myself, a reminder of how undesirable I was.

I hate feeling this way. Powerless. I guess that's why I hate the idea of love so much. It seems to be okay if both people feel equally powerless, and they're happy with that, but I like to be in control. I like to know where things are going, what's going to happen. I only like surprises if I know they're going to be good. Then again, I hate things being boring, and it is kinda boring being in control all the time. I can't win this way. Something's gotta change (and it's probably me).

When I was younger, 14 or so, I wished that I'd fall asleep one day and wake up as someone that wouldn't fuck things up all the time. Reading through my emails the other day made me realise how little I'm actually changed in 7 years. Still selfish, still cruel, still thoughtless. I'm less like that than I was, though. I do care about people who aren't me. I found an email I'd sent to my first ex, basically acknowledging I was deliberately messing with his mind because it was fun. I don't think I'm that girl any more. I'm still capable, I'd just feel too bad about doing it.

I'm trying to be better. I am. I want to be good for him, and anybody else that might come along later. I want to be good for myself.

Stupid fucking emotions. Getting in the way of my studies. It's the human condition, I guess.

(I'll get out of feeling this way some time in the next few days, and I'll look back at this post and just think "I'm such a whiny kid. Man up!" But, you know, this is how I feel right now. :/)

Today...

Woken up at 8, asked what should Dad buy for me in the supermarket. Decided to roll out of bed, grab clothes, and just go with him. Dressed entirely like a boy (except for the skinny jeans). Bought lots of stuff.

Later in the day, I dressed entirely like a girl. Cute t-shirt, ruffly cotton layered skirt. I had hips like a goddess, which makes a change, cos my hips are actually pretty damn narrow. (Thank goodness for my butt.)

Excellent food day: Weetabix, hot milk and chopped banana; hummous, pitta bread and carrot sticks; grapes and dilute juice; cream cheese on bagel, cup of tea; Chinese take out; slice of toast.

Lazy study day. Made some progress. Easing myself into things. Doing Lie Algebras right now.

Discovered Sesame Street videos. Laughed until I cried. Flailed my limbs about in pure joy. Found a great video of Natalie Portman, dressed as an elephant, dancing with an elephant dressed as a princess. So fucking cute.

Talked to Tristan and Dave about things and stuff. Nothing too deep. Linked them to all the Sesame Street stuff.

Watched a gymnastics movie with a Fall Out Boy soundtrack. Kickass.

Had a two hour nap while the Budget was on the TV. Woke up to see Nick Clegg asking politicians to cut the crap and tell the truth.

Listened to Dancing With Myself, and Imagine (the originals, not the Glee covers).

"That's very smart, Banana, very smart."

Today was a pretty good day. Doesn't quite beat the day in the Bullring with a Krispy Kreme, though.

It's to be expected.

For a while (perhaps since first year, even) I've had a bit of a crush on a Christian.

Gasp! Shock! Horror! etc.

He's cute, pretty serious, good at maths, generally not a jerk, and loves God, but not in an evangelical bible-thumpy way. He just radiates NICE everywhere.

I considered asking him out once, but I realised I was too much of an unholy mess to go for a guy that good. So, you know, I didn't.

Then, the rest of my life happened, and we get to yesterday, when I find out he's "In A Relationship with" a Christian girl. She's kinda pretty, I assume she'll be kinda nice - Christian girls usually are.

I felt a twinge of something when I found out. Such a tiny thing, but I dunno. Pretty silly, really. But I did kinda like him.

It's a Reality Check - people date! I don't really want him anyway, but, it was a feeling that I experienced, and I documented it. So there.

Feelings are tricky.

Fall forward, spring back.

Sometimes, you fuck it up. *shrug* It happens. Pretty often when it comes to me, in fact.

Then you find something wonderful, inside all the mess and entanglements.

I found... a soulmate, I think. We went to dinner last night, Tristan and I, and we talked honestly and we came out the other side. We were both scared, I think, that we'd have just landed on two different opinions that were fundamentally incompatible. But, we didn't.

Of course, everyone at debating jokes that we're this clear obvious why-are-they-not-dating couple, and yet we both agreed we'd be a terrible partnership. But, as friends, it's perfect. We need each other, and we give each other what the other need.

He's my favourite person in the world right now. I can see myself being just as close to him after graduation, and beyond. I will miss him so much when he leaves.

There's still a lot of cleaning up to do, and things that need time to heal, but I am pretty pleased to find that life can throw up something immensely awesome even when you fuck up.

It's not rape o'clock. It never is.

According to the BBC, there's quite a lot of women who think that rape victims should take some responsibility for being raped under certain circumstances.

Let's have a look at this, and get some stuff out there.

Here is a (non-exhaustive) list of things that doesn't immediately mean "It's okay to have sex with me":

• Talking to a man flirtatiously
• Wearing next-to-nothing
• Drinking an entire bottle of tequila, or equivalent
  
• Kissing a guy in a bar or club
  
• Going home with a guy for a coffee/drink
• Talking about sex with a guy
• Getting into bed with a guy
• Being naked with a guy
• Doing foreplay with a guy

Here is a (again, non-exhaustive) list of things that mean "It's okay to have sex with me":

• Saying "It's okay to have sex with me".

The second list is much shorter, I realise. This is because the only way you can consent is if you consent. You can even stop consenting during sex. At which point, consensual sex becomes rape. Of course, if the girl is absolutely silent and appears as relaxed/tense as before, the guy (in a world of sexual oh-my-gosh) might not be thinking of this and looking out for it. This is not a defence of the guy; everyone should check that people want sex all the way through sex. It just seems fair. And nice.

On a side note, how many people actually say, "Do you want to do this?" every time before actually having sex? How many guys really want to hear the true answer? Everyone's had that time when you're desperate to get laid, and your partner is like, "well, I'm not really up for it..." and you're just stuck, aroused as hell in the dark with a sleeping lump of person next to you. It's not fun... but, sex is just much better with consent. So, you can see where I'm going with this.

So, what about this responsibility issue? I think that girls should be careful, of course. Going home with a man you don't know is probably not the best way to stay safe, and incapacitating yourself through drink is, again, not wise. Neither action immediately implies consent to sex.

However, getting into bed naked with a guy you met hours ago could give the impression that you're "up for it". Being too drunk to realise you're pawing at a guy's clothes could give the impression of consent. I think girls should realise the power of actions. They speak louder than words, after all. I am not defending the rapist for "getting it a bit wrong." Clear consent is the only type of consent that's worth having. A slurred "yeah sure, go for it" isn't really consent.

TL;DR - girls should try not to give off the wrong signals, but guys should never use those signals as an excuse.

(I realise this post is pretty hetero-focused. I apologise; I don't know enough about queer rape issues to be able to comment on them. If anyone does know of news articles, etc, I can read, that'd be good.)

Catch up!

Two debating competitions: the IV for university students, the school tournament for school kids. Predominantly reasonably cute sixth-form grammar school girls in the schools tournament. That was nice.

Junk food week of DOOM. Tuesday, Ben and Jerry's fest. Wednesday, Pizza Hut with Dave. Thursday, Curry Night. Friday, chinese takeout with Tristan. Saturday, chicken and chips. There's plans to eat at Varsity on Monday. My poor fat-clogged arteries must be begging for mercy now.

Glitterball was a big worry until it happened and nothing went wrong at all. I was quietly organisational, people noticed, I kissed my lovely boyfriend, everyone got home safe, the food was great, my dress fitted me.

Battle of the Bands. My housemate and his band came THIRD (travesty!) despite the crowd feeling they'd at least come second. Such is life. Again, cue the lovely boyfriend. Sometimes you forget how nice it is to just kiss for ages and ages and cuddle a little bit.

Debating confidence wiggles. The IV kinda kicked it out of me a bit (one of the DCA's didn't exactly take a shine to me), but Schools made me feel good about myself again. I called it right, I chaired a room, I gave warm and sunny feedback to ALL the children.

Sleep. The plan was: stay at Tristan's, eat junk food, watch a movie, go to bed fairly early and get to Schools on time. We ended up going to bed quite late and not actually sleeping until 3 or 4. Waking up at 7 wasn't very fun. But, going to sleep on Saturday night, after Tristan coming over to eat junk food and watch Clueless with me while drinking Strongbow and gin, was bliss.

The sky is perfectly blue. There's a little bit of a breeze. I'm listening to Lady Gaga and Robbie Williams. I have spent the past few weeks trying to make various people feel good about themselves in various ways (myself, debaters, Priders, Tristan, schoolkids). Sheraz gave me a cuddle and told me I wasn't awful at all, and in fact quite alright.

I got the calls right in rooms! I justified my decision and actually agreed with myself!

I have lots of plans, short term and long term. I might even have time to read some maths, or perhaps just read for pleasure. Although maths seems more sensible.

Honestly, I don't think things have been this busy and THIS GOOD for such a long time.

The best part is something that kinda made me feel sad this morning. I woke up alone, and it felt very strange. It didn't feel right. The more I think about how my life's going, it's all become possible because of him. He's the lynchpin of my confidence and success... I don't think I could do all this stuff without him. I'm pretty excited to see him again tonight :)

I wasn't really expecting that.

One summer, long ago, a friend of mine and I were left home alone. Being 16 years old, we raided the liquor cupboard. We ended up making out on my bed for quite a long time, with her alternating between pushing me away and pulling me closer. Finally, she shoved me away and slept on the floor.

The following morning we had a conversation that was essentially this:

"We're never doing that again."
"Okay."
"It was totally a mistake. It's not like we're gay or anything."
"Well... I'm not exactly straight."
*stony silence*

This silence lasted for damn near five years, punctuated with the odd hateful interjection. Since all our friends were shared, I lost everyone, since she seemed to win that particular battle (I didn't even realise I had to fight it).

I even heard from a close mutual friend of ours that she thought that I was in love with her. This was as far from the truth as you could get without coming back.

I just missed my friend.

We had been growing apart anyway; she lost her virginity in a tent with a stranger at a music festival, and the girl I had known wouldn't have done that. She left for university in London, and that was it.

It was her 21st birthday a few days ago. I sent her a Facebook message, "Happy birthday!" I have no idea why. I just felt like it was such a stupid thing we fell out over, and given the masses of posts she already had for her birthday, it's not like she'd have noticed my name in the notifications...

I was wrong.

The following day, I saw she'd left me a message in my inbox. She thanked me for the message, and hoped I was well.

It was nice of her to do that. It's funny how a few years erases things that seemed so major at the time, but really are nothing.

She sent me a festive text.

I would call her "the one that got away" - except I was never close to having her. Nowhere near.

Happy Christmas. You're still weird-looking, eclectic and undeniably sexy.

Dolls and Dolls.

We did the production of Guys and Dolls at school once, and I was working on sounds.

At the start of Act II, the Hot Box dancer girls perform the song "Take Back Your Mink". I remember everyone in the sound and light box would get everything done beforehand so that they could just watch and admire. There's a bit where they rip their skirts off and it's really quite hot, in a lightly titillating way. (It's set in the first half of the 20th Century, so you can't expect much more.)

At the time, I wasn't sure if I even liked girls any more, in a general way. I liked my friend, C, but that was arguably more of a obsession than an attraction. The first time I saw the dancers rehearse that song, I was just as slack-jawed as any of the other techie guys. I think that C just happened to be in the lineup too, but she was just a part of this impossibly gorgeous mass of young women dancing and singing and looking amazing.

Every time I watch Guys and Dolls on DVD, I see that song and remember that crazy thrill of not knowing how I felt, but at the same time, knowing exactly how I felt. Ah, those good old days.