OAO...

...It went better than I thought (in that I wasn't told to get my coat and get the hell out!). I don't think my boss is used to people standing up to him, as most of my colleagues are teenagers. After my little rant he came and found me and explained everything I should do in the future and that the current system which had caused me to get in trouble was stupid in the first place. From what I can tell, but I don't know if this is boss-like-spiel to keep the workers happy, a few changes will be made in terms of training and to the system.

Whilst it wasn't a total defiant attempt at defence (I only went in and defended myself because one of my colleagues said I really shouldn't stand for it), at least I did actually do it, and not just shrug it off and cry as I would usually do!

Plus I haven't been the usual overtime slave I usually am, I've had a day to myself just watching TV and lazing about, instead of giving up all my free time because I'm too humble to refuse to cover other people who don't turn up for their shifts.

Where Did Christmas Go...(Allegra goes all sentimental and wise)

It gets worse every year, indeed it flies by quicker every year. Christmas 2004 is done and dusted and to me it didn't even feel like it got started. It just seemed like an exhausting build-up, a flurry of activity and now this, that horrible flat feeling, when all you have is a bag full of gifts gathering dust, and the family's left before you got a chance to chat. Sorry if I sound self-pitying and depressing, that's just how it felt to me, it never really took off. This year was severely lacking in that magical high you feel as a kid all December and Christmas, when it seems to go on for days, not just gone in a minute.

Living further away from family and friends, you truly value and realise how fundamental they are to your life, and your structure. I used to take for granted the network of people who used to be 10 minutes away from me, indeed they often used to annoy me. But spending the weekend with them this Christmas, I finally apprieciated their worth. We're all now spread over the South East, and our meetings have to be logistically organised-phone calls, and scheduling and such. I miss them more than I ever thought I would. It's so sad that despite all our lives taking off for the better, and with age, money, opportunity and the like, that we have to compromise our together-ness, and see each other a lot less.

I'm in a bad mood, yet another thing I didn't really live to the full. And to make matters worse, I can't get a train ticket so I can travel back to uni for my friend's New Year's Eve party. Not only have they put the prices up, but the services are really limited, meaning I'm unable to travel back on the 2nd in time for work, as no trains get into London before 4pm. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

***

However, as many Bloggers worldwide have commented in light of recent news events, all this complaining seems a little brattish when there's thousands of people dead and millions whose lives have been wiped away in ways other than death. People who had nothing to begin with have had that multiplied tenfold.

As helpful as news coverage can be (e.g. SkyNews' decision to dedicate their ticker to messages from those in S.E. Asia to family here in the UK), it seems that it is not always appropriate that the camera acts as our all-seeing eye. The eye-witness footage of two tourists swept away from their resort whilst clinging desparately to a patio table, the shot of a corpse's foot, images of lost bodies floating in the ocean all seemed a step too far to me, as the "interactive coverage" of the Iraq/"Armchair" War did two years ago. Whilst media today should not censor, it should perhaps show a little more humanity and discretion in what it does show instead of slowly desensitising us to such horrific images through it's voracious gaze. The camera renders nothing sacred.

***

It's always been something that my mother drummed into me, me especially, as I have a tendency to be weak, timid and naive at times, especially under authority. But standing up for yourself is a life tool, as I am sure everyone knows. When I was criticized and sneered at by my boss in front of my colleagues for failing to do something I didn't know I had to do in the first place, my first reaction was to crumble into tears and get someone to stick up for me. But I guess it's a sign of growing up that I refused to back down and unneccessarily take the blame, and instead retaliated and explained why I hadn't done as I was supposed to. It's also a sign of growing up that you stop placing everyone on a pedestal because you feel so grateful they are nice to you, being as cool/powerful as they are, therefore allowing them to treat you as they wish (which often means "like shit") and instead see them for what they really are, and learn to protect yourself. It's a good feeling to feel anger and not the preventative tears of despair.

I've just got to take this step with loser ex-flings, pick off the final bristles of my former doormat-self. :-)

Digital Camera exploits...

IMG_0034
Originally uploaded by allegra_collins.

...been mucking around with Flickr and am now able to upload photos from the cam to my blog. Obviously one will not see Allegra herself, but it will help me to "illustrate"! I've always admired those photo-blogs.

And to illustrate here, please peruse the bag of wonderful clothes donated to me by my aunt. They're all timeless classics and designer, so I've saved myself a few quid and smartened myself up in one swoop!

Newsflash...

...as of this morning, PC came back to life, so I now have a big, fat iPod! Also helped me gain a much happier outlook on the world!

***

Whilst out braving the Christmas retail crowds, came across a few gifts I myself would not mind:

• "Confessions Of An Heiress" by Paris Hilton-OK, so she maybe an IT girl/oxygen thief/whatever you prefer to call those beautiful, but frankly one-dimensional socialites, but I was flicking through this out of interest, and it looks pretty cool (note my refrain from using words such as "interesting" or phrases such as "a good read"), there's tons of pictures of our Paris in every fashionable clothing combination thinkable and her classic quote, "Expose your navel. Some say guys like legs and boobs. I think they like stomachs.". As well as her advice to dress sexy all the time, as there are too many cute girls out there for you to not make the effort(!). In short, Paris' philosophy on what she knows as life.
• Dermalogica facial-because my skin is diabolical, it's texture resembles elephant skin, it's pallor a map of the former British Empire (angry, angry red).
• Cute bodywarmer/jacket-I personally think there's no sexier look in winter than a fitted bomber jacket with tight jeans (it took me a while to phrase this, I was originally going to rite "puffa jacket"!). It's very street. I've found one for £20, an absolute steal, with a beautiful fur-lined hood, and bomber jacket styling, with zip-off sleeves to convert it to gilet. I learnt the hard way bomber jackets need to be fitted (after buying a size 14 one in Warehouse last year, because I couldn't be bothered to wait till they had smaller sizes in stock. It consequently slips off my shoulders and is too wide for me, therefore, I looked swamped).
• BVLGARI perfume-just smells divine, and a nice sexy daytime scent.
• The right pair of Ugg-style boots.

Techno Births, Deaths and Marriages...

...argh, the worst has happened. My trusty PC of three years has finally bitten the dust. Kicked the bucket. Brown bread. Whatever. It's just died on me. It beeps whenever I turn it on and does no more. Dad's taken it's shell off and is having a bit of a fiddle around with it, but two hours on and to no avail. It just keeps beeping away at us. Perhaps the poor thing felt unwanted with the great influx of new techno bits 'n' bobs; iPod (now without the stacks of music I gained at uni :'(, the moral of this story being to backup EVERYTHING), digital camera (£30 off little bro today, which involved an emergency trip to buy batteries-alas it is a greedy battery muncher-and get cash out at the only cash machine in the village, which despite being free, would only do withdrawals that were multiples of twenty), new laptop (not a patch on the late PC, needed a new hard drive after barely months and for a totally unexplained reason).

On the plus side, I have found Gemma "Catwalk Queen"'s diary after months of deprivation and scouring her site for any sign of a URL. I'm very excited about my new digital camera and the many Christmas photo ops it will provide over the next week. I'm also embarking on my plan for complete mental nourishment; good books, music and culture. And tomorrow, I get let loose on the town centre for a serious Xmas shop, well as serious a shop as you can do when you have to buy presents for 3 people with a budget of £40 (oh pay day, why so far away?).

But for now, RIP to my trusty PC: 2001-2004

Aiming To Have A Very Productive Christmas Vacation!

Ah, after the longest journey in the world, and the severe indecision of "Should I stay or should I go", to quote the song, as I left my housemate sitting forlorn at the top of the stairs, I've finally reached home, or as close to home as a tiny country cottage mid-renovation can be! But despite the initial boredom and depression suffered yesterday (I literally did nothing), I've woken up fresh (at 11am!!!) and ready for four weeks of ACTUALLY doing stuff. So what do I aim to get done over this month...

• Passing the dreaded driving test-it's got to the point where holding a license wouldn't just be a great novelty, as it seemed to be in sixth form, I just feel now that I DO really need to be able to drive. I'm growing out of public transport, public transport outside of London that is, which really is an experience in itself. I just want that independance, of being able to go anywhere, anytime. So it's just a case of swallowing the bile on the day and hauling ass.
• Catching up on all the work I missed as a lazy second-year. Cause for these exams coming up, it seems you do really need to know your shit!
• Getting a few cool knitting projects done, seeing as a cottage in the winter-darkened countryside is prime knitting territory. A cottage with only five channels and a tempremental Freeview reception, so perfect knitting territory. Although I only really watch BBC Four on Freeview, with it's great foreign films (adding Amores Perros to the fave film list...).
• Catching up on some serious film viewing. Mum's got loads of ideas about seeing stuff at the cinema, as well as a few cool new DVDs. Still got Spiderman 1 to watch, as I've watched them backwards (aren't they the coolest films!). Plus there's Christmas TV, always a film fest, and the massive Blockbuster in town. Anyone got any great foreign/cult film suggestions?
• Catching up on reading. I still have The Da Vinci Code and White Teeth burning holes in my bookshelf, and I want to read Julie Burchill's Sugar Rush before the hols are done.
• Sorting out my style, with the help of a generously donated bag of clothes, many of them timeless classics. I've just grown out of the comic book style of my teens, well except the yeti boots mind. Forgive me for sounding pretentious here, I just feel my dress sense was permenantly immature, and lacking any sense of taste, which sucks in a university full of capsule wardrobe freaks and Topshop worshippers.
• Taking tons of Christmas pics of the family with my newly-acquired digital camera. I'm aiming to have a wall of photos like my housemates all have in their rooms.
• Filling the iPod!

To Pull Or Not To Pull...

...that is the question. I don't know if it's just a youthful phenomenon I seem to have grown out of (like Warehouse for example), I just seem to have reached this ambiguous frame of mind on the subject.

Last year it seemed that the objective of a good night out was that it culminated in a fumble in your room with a handsome stranger after an evening of flirtatious bumping and grinding on the dancefloor. That you really were wearing a good outfit only if it attracted a few instances of flirtatious eye contact. I remember sitting in the corridors of halls about 3am with my friends, lamenting our lack of allure to the opposite sex, that lack of allure painfully contrasted with the frequent bedroom Olympics of some of the others every time they went out. I remember going through a variety of "just in case" preparations alongside the usual pre-club routine; make the bed, just in case, tidy room, just in case, sexy underwear and swimmer-like body hair removal, just in case. And the slow layings of a foundation on which your whole night depended, wandering round alone in clubs just in case someone came up to you, staring out anyone who so much as glanced at you. I think to be honest, I was desparate. And to be even more honest, I still am at times.

See, I'm divided on the subject now, rather than dead set on the idea that good night out=pull. It started the beginning of this year, maybe coincidentally or not so coincidentally round about the time of my twentieth birthday when it stopped becoming a major night-out issue to be ranked alongside the crucial dilemma of Seven or Diesel jeans? And surprise, surprise, just as the experts say, as I forgot about it, they flocked in. To be honest I think I've attracted more male attention this term than I did all last year. Although not all of it has been good, and I think that's why I've taken stock of my whole "guy" frame of mind. Basically I met a guy in a club, we swappped numbers and a little "thing" developed so we decided to meet up, which to be honest, when you only know someone through a few text messages (dirty ones at that) isn't a great idea. Anyway, the whole thing seemed to be going very well, until we got to a nightclub and he suddenly turned very aggressive, making comments that everyone was looking at me. And when we left he terrified me, as he got progressively worse, just shouting at me, telling me to do one thing and then the opposite. Luckily one of my friends was around so I rang them and basically legged it, but it was terrifying nonetheless and shook the trust I had in people.

It just made me think that perhaps I was desparate, to chuck safety out of the window in the hope I would have a boyfriend. And also that, on reconsideration, despite, not fulfilling the contemporary "objective" of nights out in the past, I still have an abundance of memories of good nights, with my friends, people who do count, not a few random blokes I didn't even know the surnames of.

But I am still in a catch twenty-two. I still need that male approval to feel good about myself. Deep down, if I haven't been so much as eyed-up at the end of an otherwise good night out, I still feel a tiny bit insecure. Perhaps that's all it is, insecurity, after all, for centuries we women have been trained to crave the sexual approval of the male sex. I just hate clinging to the fact that if some random has my number, I need him to return my calls. I suppose it's just knowing a man cares about you, another age-old female desire. And to be honest, I rarely make the first move, I'm always too terrified, it's only when someone expresses an interest in me I return it, and suddenly fancy the pants off them. Going out on a date with the guy you've fancied for ages is an alien concept to me, as it's yet another area where I've never bothered or tried. I'm not saying I go out with any old bloke who approaches me, believe me I can rebuff, but it's only one step up from that.

I also feel that the whole pulling in a club, as great fun as it is, is just so one-dimensional, I mean where does it ever really go? As I've discovered, you don't know the fundamentals of each other to have a relationship, well, I mean it rarely works. What really happpens, it's just one night stands, and after a fewds and after a while, those get boring if pursued for tw i fyou foollow that path too long. One night stands are, to me, the gap-fillers. Excedpt when the gaps are far too big to truly fill. to fill. I just feel I want something more from men. You may feel wanted and special for a few days, but once the sex is over, it's just as lonely as it was to begin with.

As for the future...

...well I think it would be a little silly to write down what I have to do. Isn't it totally obvious?!

It's been a long ten weeks...

...and I feel my life needs a serious overhaul. Ah there's nothing like ten wasted weeks to remind you that university isn't going to last forever and time is slowing ticking away. Unless you count the London Lemmy website, which reminds me there's gonna be a time when I won't be partying my Saturdays away in that notorious love-to-hate nightspot, just revisiting my memories through a once-yearly, impersonal party night in London. I just suddenly realised, whilst perusing the reminisces of my predecessors, that in only another two years, I won't be here, and all the chances that lie before me will be gone, and I will be in the real world, and a grown up. That really scares me.

So for those of you who are curious as to what has spouted this pessimistic rant, here's how I have wasted yet another ten weeks of university life:

• Workwise: I seemed to have lost all enthusiasm for my course, after it turned out to be not what I expected. Well let's be honest, I didn't hate it, I just got behind and never bothered to catch up, or to be punctual. It's got to be my worst ever attendance during my whole time in education. And I feel really cheated, because I didn't ever try, I just put it all off for another day. And I've done it again tonight. I also made little effort with my classmates, despite it being the whole motivation for chosing separate modules to my housemates. It's only now, when we will all be changing again, that I'm bothering, in the slightest sense.
• Socially: Yet again, a sheer lack of effort. How many times have I visited my old floormates for tea and a chat? Yet expected them to come see me?! How little effort I have made with existing friends. My problem is that I always expect people to come to me, I expect everything to fall into my lap, and that goes for work as well. Only two weeks before the end of term did I set up any weekly get-together with other housemates. And I've isolated myself. Today everyone's off out seeing various people and I'm on my own because I never bother. I've taken zero pictures of anything we've done, because basically I'm not interested. I've spent hours wandering round clubs bored, rather than join in the dancing, and I don't even know why I didn't want to join in with the dancing!

Gee I suck! I haven't bothered doing anything, I haven't bothered waking up early on weekends to see visitors, or go into town or, shock horror, do work. Gee no wonder nobody bothers with me when I can't even be bothered with myself or anybody else.

And it's another ten weeks gone, just like the first year, when I sat in my room bemoaning my lot on here (oooh it's a little bit of history repeatin'), when everyone made their foundations for friendship, and gasp, spoke to people in other houses.

Sorry, apologies to readers, I'm just so bloody angry with myself. Why am I so lazy and procrastinate? Why do I NEVER bother, EVER? Why is it I leave everywhere saying, "Oh but when I go to sixth form/university/work, etc I will be different, I will talk to everyone."? Why am I wasting the last years I have of freedom and true friendship and fun? Why am I the one jotting a few slapdash notes when everyone is so enthusiastic about their courses?

Things really. really have to change. Everyone else around me, I can really see the effort they are making with each other, why can't I just fucking do it?!

Argh!!!!