Ah, it's so sad, the guy I fell for at work got sacked. And all because his bike ran out of petrol and he was a little late. Now, I'm not a boss and never have been, but it seemed a little harsh to dismiss someone on those grounds, saying that failing to check if your bike needs fuel, especially for a journey to work, is irresponsible. Surely we all make these mistakes?
Maybe, due to my sexual bias, I'm being a little too defensive?
I'm not only sad because I fancied him, but also because he seemed to be the only lively person in the workplace. And I know that isn't the bias talking because other staff members and regulars have said so. We got on really well, I felt comfortable around him and opened up to him in a way I've never done with work colleagues. In my main job, where I've worked for a year, I'm not nearly as close to my colleague due to my trust and self-esteem issues, which is a shame because they aren't bad people. It's just some people have a way of letting you feel comfortable around them I suppose.
I know this is the way with life, that people come and go and you never see them again, but it just seems so sad. It used to brighten up actually going to work, knowing that while you were there you could have a chat and a joke. I don't know if I will stay there any more, it just seems really boring and too regular. Workplaces always need a little life, as I know from my main job, the banter keeps you going. This is just a weird place, such a wide range of ages means nobody really connects I suppose.
But who knows? Apparently he's the only guy who knows how to do all the stuff round the bar there, as the owners are new to the trade, and have bought a pub as part of a business venture. So maybe with a few protests from the other staff, and the more diplomatic manner of the boss' wife, maybe? However, I don't think someone who phoned back their boss after getting fired to tell them to "Get f****d." would really be the sort to give in to grovelling.

But here's hopin' :-D

***

Back to uni tomorrow, another ten weeks. Another ten weeks and my second year is over.

It seems weird, I still always feel a little dread, like you did going back to school after those eternal holidays as a kid. It's always more fun leaving school on the last day of term than it is going back again. Whilst the promise of new assignments and seeing your friends again is exciting, home is the place you feel truly comfortable I suppose. It is for me, having spent so long hating school and not really making any great friendships home was my world, and my parents and family were everything. Like the best families do, they accepted me for me, they supported me, and I never feared their opinions of me. Being thrown into an environment where you have to make non-familial relationships than are as strong as those with your family when you never even had real friends before remains daunting for me to this day. I'm desparately trying to shake off a little of my dependance on home, and trying to make my friendships seem as important and fulfilling, not just something that has to be done, so I'm prepared for proper adulthood. It's not them, it's me, my friends at uni, I'm sure would be only too happy to reciprocate any strong bonds I tried to develop. I've just got to overcome my lack of trust in anyone not blood-related. Easier said than done.

Here's hoping that this term does actually turn out to be the one where I really do achieve all the big things I want to, like I set out in a list in an earlier post. I have only one term before my last year of authentic youth and then it's all jobs and money, and no time to discover who I really am.

Here's hopin'!

Sunday Musings...

Why do I always fall for the most inappropriate people? And why do I fall for people who are simply being friendly to me?

***

On the lace front, went for the lattice style in order to actually wear trainers on "Observer Run"

Or...

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Originally uploaded by allegra_collins.

...the current lacing method of choice for the local "youths", the checkerboard?

In the true spirit of democracy, and therefore at such a topical time for posts like these...I leave it to you guys, my street-cred and the fate of the laces, lies in your hands...

Decisions, decisions

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Originally uploaded by allegra_collins.

Finally succumbed to temptation and bought the trainers, Nike Air Valentines, which are simply divine. However, in an effort to make them a little more "street", I figured boring old straight across laces might not cut it out there :-) so being the ever-busy person I am, I decided to spend some time researching shoelacing on Google-that's how bustling my social life is at the moment people; going back to university is seriously overdue!

In the spirit of "Election Fever", I've decided to leave it to you as to what lacing style you prefer, this, the Lattice, or...

My shameful media addiction...

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Originally uploaded by allegra_collins.

I always feel a sense of guilty pleasure whenever I open a glossy. I remember English teachers in high school advising us to put down our sopies of tawdry teen bibles like Bliss, Sugar, Mizz and J17 to name a few, in favour of books, preferably classical novels. So even now, when with years of dipping into all the newsagents have to offer and consequentially whittling down my reading to what's deemed as "quality", I still feel terrible spending my time flicking excitedly through the pages rather than delving into a Penguin Classic.
My latest magazine fetish, the fashion glossy, came both through age, and living in a shared student house that happens to have a beautiful, but stupidly big coffee table made from driftwood. It looked bare with merely a few coasters and junk mail, like a doctor's surgery with tattered gossip weeklies, and truly dressed up with our latest extravagant fashion titles.

And through personal penchants, being a soppy romantic at heart, the visually beautiful, no matter how contrived, appeals to me. From gorgeous advertisements for high fashion to artistic photoshoots, and the glossy paper.

I must waste about £20 a month on "mags". Going into WH Smith on a weak day and leaving with a well-filled carrier bag is an experience I am all too used to.

All About Me...

It's not that I don't want to change. And I'm not making excuses for myself. I'm not enjoying the way I am, I would do anything to be different, to have fun just like everyone else. But where do I start? 'Cause it's not a dislike of anyone else that makes me do nasty things, or get so bitter. It's envy, because there's so many people out there who seem to be having so much fun, who don't seem to give a shit what they look like, who wear what the hell they want, can do, and are doing so many things, and are so interesting and likeable. And my whole life energy seems to be consumed by hatred and jealousy, and trying so hard just to look "acceptable", because through my eyes, seeing in the past how people seemed to be deemed likeable, it was always because they looked nice. I haven't got a personality because I haven't got round to creating one for myself. I don't know who I am, there's so many things I want to be. I want to be everything, sexy, funny, sweet-a nice girl, tough, practical, driven, etc. And I don't seem to be any of those things. Because in my head I tell myself that once I look pretty, then people will speak to me, and then I will discover it, or then I can develop an attitude that fits. I always seem to be doing that. I adapt my percepted self to what I thikn is appropriate for the situation. From sophisticated, intelligent and sweet student, to tough-as-nails, street-talking biyatch who dragged herself up from nothing and wears what her "sort" wear.
I always have this sense of diasphora, I am a stranger whereever I seem to be, not just one of the regular folk. At school I was one of the geeks and freaks, a person who spoke so well, at university, amongst the real geeks, and real posh people I was street, an airhead. Everybody here seemed to thikn I was the opposite to what I thought I was at school. I always feel like I am sticking out, that everyone notices how weird I am, how different I am.

***

As for the looks thing, yes it's an obsession. The need to look immaculate for every tiny public outing. The constant comparisons with everyone else on every tiny part of their body and mine, right down to stupid things like cuticles and skin texture. And the boiling inferiority, that I'm different, in a bad way from them, everyone thinking I look like a freak.

For five years, I had people constantly taking the piss out of how I looked, saying I was ugly, I couldn't wear fashionable stuff like pretty girls. And getting treated like dirt, seeing people giving you a disapproving once over. Whilst there were the girls deemed good-looking, everywhere, all over the magazines, in my surroundings, and how differently they got treated. How they were revered, admired, how they seemed to be having so much fun. And behind their backs, revered and compared even more. Everytime I get ready to go somewhere, I hear all those apprieciative comments and strive for them. At university it seems to be a constant beauty contest, there's always someone one step ahead. There's the girls who have all the looks, and a personality, and everyone loves them, and who the hell would like me? Looking like this.

It's not an egotistical thing, I don't want, or expect to be seen as the best, I just want to be considered how everyone else is. I don't want to be forgotten, or have the hyper-awareness I am being bitchily compared, by men, to every other girl. I don't want to be behind the window anymore, looking in at the normal, pretty people.

***

I don't hate my friends, I envy them too. I am so guarded, I think if I'm horrible, or acting all tough to them first they won't pick on me. I'm waiting for them to hurt me, I'm waiting for them to admit they don't really like me, like everyone else has to me, at some point. I'm dreading the inevitable fuck-up I am going to make, like I do with anyone when I am on the verge of any sort of emotional attachment, the accusation they hate me anyway, so I can cut them out, not speak to them, and then turn it all on me and say it was them not me. Like I did with the first true friends I made. The people I was so happy around and had all my interests, but in my paranoia decided they didn't really like me and so I made some excuse and cut them out, pushed them away. I always have to hate people before I love them. And I never accept anyone's faults against me, I justy banish them. I either love or hate people, and those feelings will change constantly.

With boys, all the ones in the past who I think about now and realise with hindsight they were actually interested, but I hate myself so much I just didn't give them a single chance. I hate me, so everyone else surely must. Surely it must be a joke, this flirting, it's a wind-up. Those invitations to the real world, that everyone else actually trusted and took, I couldn't swallow my fear or my pride and just backed away. I do it in relationships or with men as well, this initially flirting and confidence, then the self-hatred, "They aren't really with me, they aren't really interested.", "I bet you fancied pulling an ugly girl.", "I bet your exes were so pretty. Why did you go for me?", "Oh this is only a casual secret shag because I'm so ugly you can't show me off to all your mates.". And the bitter self-defence, when there was really no need.

***

So everyone wants me to get help, see someone, etc. Yeh sure, but where the fuck would we start.

A List...

...of all the things I really want to achieve quite soon:

Pass my driving test
Be productive at work
Be more adventurous with fashion, and wear what I really like, not just the few things I think suit me
Consequentially, try to build up my self-esteem
And cheer up
Therefore treating new people as though they might actually like me, rather than waiting for them to prove they do
Really get into my course, read stuff, investigate, enjoy, interact, etc
Get a few hobbies (after one of my new work colleagues seemed so surprised I didn't really do much apart from shop, go on the internet and read. As well as whinge about my lot, which seems to be my current hobby, as it takes up all of my energy and passion)
Rediscover my youth, I think I may have mislaid it somewhere...

White Teeth...

I dunno if it's just me, but I'm sure there's something I'm missing about this book. I seem to be breezing through it a little too quickly, and not really taking in Smith's philosophical musings.
I wish I knew someone could talk about my book worries with...are you out there?

Apologies for the complete lack of posting, I am on five weeks vacation from university and due to drinking away my student loan and then some, am currently holding down two jobs to put me back in the black. So there hasn't been enough time for me to even fart, let alone post!

***

I wonder how long I can manage to hold down these two jobs without revealing to one employer I am employed by another too? I am sailing close to the wind, with sick days due to lack of foward planning with my shifts...anyone else ever been in a similar situation???

***

Moreover, the whole two jobs at oppostie ends of town, not to mention night shifts for the folks, has reinforced how much I really, really have to pass my driving test. I'm being really selfish, I don't want to rely on anyone else for my transportation anymore. Not the 66 bus I have to wait aeons for, not mum and dad, bless them, I don't know how they are still sane with two kids with provisional licenses burning holes in wallets not motivating. Not to mention the £8k car my dad impulse bought to inspire and motivate us. I dunno if it's a sign of getting older, I just realise how selfish I've been to my parents sometimes. I'm such a brat!
I just want that feeling of my car keys in my hand, my car in the car park, my music on the stereo and having that comforting feeling that anywhere you wanna go, you can go, anytime you want.
Just got to figure out how not to self-destruct during my driving test, as I have the last three times!