Eleven

You were one inch from the edge of this bed

I dragged you back

A sleepyhead.

Sepia

News of the day is that my face is full of cold, and my arms feel like I've had every vaccine on earth in one go, and therefore, I am lying in bed while the night is still young, ready to fall straight back to sleep, having been awake for all of 4 hours, as soon as I'm done with this entry.

Also as a result, I've been on a liquid diet of John Mayer and soft piano covers all day, as anything heavier makes me feel nauseous. I'm not even joking. It's odd, I haven't listened to beautiful, innocent music for such a long time; it's weirdly refreshing, and kind of reminds you of the point of everything.

I've had a pretty cool week. My little sister came to stay last Wednesday, and we filled up the evening with fairground rides at Leicester Square, and dinner, and secrets at bedtime... I love that finally, we're growing to become really good friends rather than a counterpart to tolerate.

I spent the weekend in Oxford at a conference for Model UN... yes, I'm a ridiculous nerd, especially to find myself in a 'WHO' committee, where nobody else had made themselves aware of the finer details of the virology of HIV. But I want to get good at public speaking, and debate is a no-go as I view it in the same way as 'going' running- if you're not trying to get anywhere, what on earth is the point? And debate is argument for argument's sake.

Anyway, the sessions were fun, and the evenings I boycotted were awesome: I went to a Halloween party with Brasenose college with my friend, dressed up as a hipster and greeted by dumbfounded stares when I tried to explain, and hit on by every male within a two-metre radius of me at any given point, as I was 'fresh-blood' / Oxford guys are super sharky. Thank you Lord that I go to UCL. On the other hand, having told my friend that I wasn't really up for going out as I had to be up at 7.30 the next day, I danced until 3 in the morning, and had an amazing night.

I spent the next night curled up on the sofa next to my Mom and a hot chocolate, watching Saturday-night TV. I had a similarly chilled scenario on the Sunday evening, when I got back to London and went straight over to Ted's house to drop off the prints from my disposable photos from Ghana and Togo... I ended up staying for tea and poring over the photos together, laughing at the irreversible, candid beauty that is what I love about disposables. They are such an awesome bunch of images- the kind that you can laugh at and remember every minute of the day it was taken in 30 years time.

Monday was spent -and I am now starting to realise why I'm so behind in work- at said house again, and to be fair, a lot of reading was done whilst Louise, Viki, and I were sat together; descent into hyperactive chaos began once Ted entered, and sugary treats (as always, provided by Louise) were introduced to the equation. I had an awesome evening, including watching Anatomy videos with the funny-accent guy ("meta-tar-sal"), which only got funnier once I got home and Leo arrived.

And tonight I've just got back from Tom's, and have definitely written enough for one post, and so will summarise the evening by saying that I'm so grateful to have so many amazing people in my life (:

Exhale.

Shut eyes.

Sleep.

Orchid.

Dandelion Kiss

I'm listening to Avril Lavigne. This can't be good.

Curses, curses for not writing more often. Shaking a metaphorical fist at myself is firstly physically awkward, and secondly not going to create a mystical history-pen, so let's go from here.

I have now been fully immersed into second year, and I've decided I don't like it. I take my own words with a pinch of salt here, because they are accompanied by a sticking-out lower lip, and therefore may change in poignance with time. An hour may well be enough.

To clarify; everything is amazing. I love every single one of my classes: Palaeoanthropology (I can now tell you, from a mere fragment of bone whether it is fossil, living, ape, human, fibula or femur, and more); Primate behaviour and ecology (lecturer has lived longer with apes than with humans. Specialised in primate homosexuality); International health policy... in which I get to learn in great detail how impossibly corrupt the entire world is; and Medical microbiology- just pure nerdy awesome.

I love my house for being so cosy, my housemates for being so crazy, and my new neighbourhood for being so green and beautiful. Hampstead Heath is only 10 minutes away; I went for the first time on Sunday and it really is as gorgeous as everyone says. It's no Bagley Wood, but I don't want it to be.

I have a job, I have a pot of flowers, I have my sewing machine, I have a bicycle. It would be nice to have some friends to cycle to.

Things are so different this year. I am exaggerating; I do have friends, but they are new ones. Newfound friends who too care about dance- who live and breathe it too; those who can't sit still and watch all the crap that goes on in the world and want to do something about it; and those who simply occur in my day-to-day. I guess what's easy, goes.

And what isn't falls apart.

Distance isn't easy, apathy isn't easy, and changing what's important to everyone- who's important- isn't easy. What makes me sadder than anything is that it doesn't even feel weird, and I seem to have learnt simply not to miss anybody anymore. All that happens is the occasional awkward moment, sitting on a bus by myself, remembering how good things were not too long ago, smiling, and then remembering how excited I was for this year to be exactly the same. It will be golden. I just really, really hope, in a birthday candle way, that it doesn't have to mean losing those people who were my rock.

I almost hope I still can't live without them.

Orchid.

Jack

Dear Blog,

I am about to begin another melancholy drone, and have realised that you have become one of those friends one only speaks to on matters of self deprecation. I do apologise, however, I shall continue on my miserly tone until the next time we speak.

Faithfully,

Orchid

I feel awful.

I tried calling my Mother today, and realised that despite feeling lonely, I don't really want to speak to anybody right now. Every word I hear from somebody I know makes me want to cry out for freedom from the damn conversation, and yet I want to curl up into familiar arms, and stay there for a while. I feel incompetent, inadequate, ignorant, and a failure.

Jack of all trades, and master of none; I don't know how I'm going to be able to do anything with myself. I don't have the time (or currently even the patience) to see my friends; nor am I going to be a marvel within the things taking up my time right now.

Listless, in a word.

Orchid

Church

What a week.

God, I hate that phrase, but really, what a week.

It has been carefully composed of some unforgettable days, with unforgettable people; forgivable days, with certainly forgettable people, and of course, the Sabbath, a day for no work (broken), and quiet reflection on the crap that you don't have to think about on weekdays.

My mind is fairly insane right now- it's a week since I got back from Ghana, with so much that we did, achieved, so much to tell, to write- and all I can think of is who I am.

Who I am.

Who I am??

Who cares? I thought I hardly did, and the thought of soul-searching somewhat disgusts me, but here I am, thinking about what 'everybody else must think of me' and how 'I'm a poor excuse for a human being, especially more so for a woman'; and worrying, eyebrows curved permanently into a distant seagull, of 'what should become of me' in the future.

And this isn't the anxiety of a day, one that can be blown away forever by the good words of a friend, or a song I've been missing. It's one that waxes and wanes- given enough time to ponder- and I don't know how to fix.

In similar news, here are some being-back-again vows:

I shall take up pilates.

I shall take a photo of myself everytime I cry. I cry far too much for my own good, and bizarre as it may be, I think recording every occasion on which I do cry will help me stop... crying is often very self-indulgent, and maybe I can embarrass myself into becoming less melodramatic.

Last thing- I shall begin to use the word 'I' less often.

It's a rather poor excuse for the subject of a sentence.

Orchid.

Jade

I dont' think anything on the internet has ever made me smile so much:

"Today I was driving by the lake and I saw a Jeep full of guys pass me. They were hanging out the windows and the sunroof, paddling with canoe paddles, and singing "Just Around the Riverbend" from Pocahontas. It easily may have been the coolest thing I've seen, ever. MLIA"

Yep, I'd say that's about it for today.

Orchid.

40,000 Knots

On Wednesday afternoon, looking out onto a rain-drenched Deutschland, I suddenly realised that: 2 weeks ago exactly, I was marching swiftly through central London; 1 week ago exactly, I  was drifting through some Oxonian field; 1 week later I would be sleeping in Cairo, and 2 weeks later I would be haggling for a band, studio time, and some materials for film props in a market in Accra. 

Sweet.

The past few days in Cologne have been amazing. I saw absolutely nothing of Germany aside from multiple, slightly-different-from-British H&Ms- God bless H&M, really, truly- and made up for a lot of lost time with a small corner of my family, staying up until the early hours talking, laughing, crying. 

And so begins the rush to get packed, organised- not to mention insured- for Ghana, see a few more of my dearest, and head off... first on my list is getting my copy of Teach yourself Turkish... why not?!

Orchid.