Susie is contemplating blogging.

A few of my friends have blogs. It’s nice. But I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t always read them as well as I wish people would read mine. Granted, sometimes I will honestly and thoughtfully read them and comment or talk to them about it later; but more often than not, I find myself just skimming through them. And just five minutes ago I started wondering what it is that I actually skim read for. Do I look for something that involves me? For my name to come up? Am I looking for some piece of gossip that I can spread or bitch to someone about? Am I looking for suffering? And if so, am I looking so that I might help them, or judge them, or simply relish for the moment that I’m not suffering the same? Am I looking for them to reveal some secret that I’ve always wanted to know about them? Unfortunately, I have a feeling the answer is all of these things. And I’m not sure I’m alright with that.

A non-blogging friend of mine asked me recently why I do it. I said that it was a place to organise thoughts and moan and that ultimately, I find writing soothing in many ways. She said that she could never put all her personal feelings down somewhere that everyone could read it, and I explained that I was more comfortable putting it somewhere public, where people could come and go as they please, than telling someone one-to-one; which ultimately I think just puts on pressure to say something worthwhile.

The thing is, I don’t think I treat my friends’ blogs as I should. Rather than outlets for ‘all their personal feelings’, I spend half my time treating them like some assigned text that I have to get through, and the other half like some trashy gossip magazine. I’m not saying they’re masterpieces or anything, but none the less I reckon I should be taking them more seriously. I sort of wish I had the commitment and compassion to read them as I suppose I hope people read mine, occasionally.

Susie is aware that it is Christmas eve eve and this blog entry has only now mentioned the word once. Susie is assuring readers that she is very very excited about Christmas this year (2 times), and will probably write about it another time. If it is not before the day itself, have some tidings of comfort and joy on her.

Susie is in 'full time' education

I’ve been sent out of my morning biology lesson, not because I did anything interesting or rebellious to annoy the teacher, but because I pulled a sicky on Monday and missed the test. I don’t have time to do it now because I have to have a needle jabbed in my arm in twenty minutes, and clearly sticking around in the lesson when everyone is going over the test answers would give me somewhat of an advantage. The arrangement was working pretty well for me until I realised no one else had a free this period and now I’m sitting quite alone in the kitchen.

Fortunately, some genius has found a way to bypass the school safety nets, so I can actually get on blogspot and make some, albeit rather frivolous, use of my time.

Susie is moving on to something almost serious for once.

I’ve been thinking recently about families, about how people get along with their families, love them, appreciate them, all that jazz. And I wonder if I do, or ever will feel the same about my family. Granted, there is nothing wrong with my family; they’re good people and my life at home is probably above average. And I love them in that family way that no one can ever really get rid of, even if they want to. But whether I like them or not is a different matter. It sounds pathetic and teenager-y to say that we bicker all the time and it annoys me, but it’s true. Somehow I can’t seem to say a single thing without my dad arguing with it, or my brother butting in with some mocking comment because he thinks he knows me better than I do, or my mum laughing at me and telling me about how much harder her life is.

It’s mundane and stereotypical to argue with your family, and I imagine that all I’m going to hear in response to this post is that I should be grateful for what I have and stop complaining because it’s normal and people go through much worse. But ultimately, I have a right to be unhappy with this. It makes me tense and stressed when I shouldn’t be and it makes me feel guilty every time someone shows that they like their family, because it just reminds me that I really don’t.

Susie is still stunned at her brother calling her a cunt this morning for turning his light on. Even she thought he had more class than that.

Susie is beyond exhausted

I’ve had an unusually busy weekend this week and as a result I have about as little energy as I’ve had in ages. For some reason I woke up at 8.15 on Saturday morning; some practical joke of my body’s or God’s or the person with the mouse playing the game of The Sims I’m in. Well they should know I’m fast approaching 4 red bars on the tiredness-meter and soon I am going to fall asleep on the toilet or in the swimming pool and die.

A group of us cleaned out Zoe’s loft on Saturday, I don’t think I ever realised what tiring work that is. I genuinely ache. And yesterday evening was the Church Anniversary Supper; a generally fairly excruciating event where members of the church get on stage to showcase some talent or other. There’s always a piano recital from a lovely 90-or-so-year-old man, with sufficient hearing to play faultlessly, but not to hear that he groans loudly throughout the piece – enough to prompt Ally to say ‘is someone snoring?’. Theo the 10 year-old will beast out a tune or two on the piano and clarinet, ridiculously good for his age and equally as irritating, thanks to his astonishingly pushy parents – one of whom also performs without fail. Ally plays his ‘cello, and I’m sure he amazes me more every year. I forget that behind the big goof I know and love he’s actually really talented and works really hard. The youth group always puts together a bit of a comedy act, which inevitably is left to the very last minute but somehow comes together on the night.

There’s a lot to be said about my church, not all of it positive. There’s often a certain lack of charisma and energy that’s so prominent in other churches, which is hardly helped by people pointing it out all the time. But for this one evening every year, the whole church just comes together as one. Everyone is there to support one another and enjoy each other’s company. From the outside, the supper must be the most cringe-worthy shambles; but it doesn’t matter to us. It’s a tradition and it’s ours and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Avoiding eye contact with everyone during the terrible singing of two favourites, because we all know that one snigger from one person will soon put the whole congregation in hysterics – it’s what our church is about deep down.

Susie is genuinely sad that she’ll be away at university this time next year, and might not be able to come back for the night that makes being part of Brentwood Baptist Church worth it all.

Susie is sleepy

Susie is grateful for Ami’s handy ‘Blog Buddies’ list; however, it does instil her with a slight sense of guilt when she sees how long it’s been since she last blogged. Susie is giving into this guilt now.

...

Susie is apologising to anyone who was expecting a worthwhile blog entry now, she was too. Susie is hoping that said people will take solace in the fact that the 2 hours Susie spent writing half-paragraphs and jumbled ideas were sufficient to calm her out of the fairly ugly and petulant mood she was in beforehand.

Susie is finally understanding why this is not one of those famous blogs that gets thousands of hits and comments. Yes she does know how many hits she gets. Susie is giving a big hello there to her new Israeli audience, but somewhat missing the Dartfordians. Susie is hoping they come back soon, she quite likes Dartford.

Susie is making decisions

It’s a pretty exciting time at the moment, when I think about it; what with university choices and the such to be made. Gradually I’m making decisions about how much or little I love the places I’m applying to, looking back at the lists I made only a few months ago and wondering what it was that made me cross certain places off. But I think I’m happy with my list nonetheless.

Susie is too boring for words.

I think perhaps it’s an unfortunate thing that my blog only seems worth reading in times of utter crap. I think it says a lot about the world that the only emotions that are taken seriously, or indeed are displayed with any sort of veracity are the negative ones – sadness, anger, shame, disappointment. When someone is sad, we feel an obligation to comfort them, to reassure them, to demonstrate that others too are suffering; and yet when someone is happy, we make little effort to rejoice with them. The old phrase ‘I’m really happy for them’ should just be thrown out in my opinion, I don’t know if it’s ever really used without a bitter, jealous undertone these days (like that time in friends when… - if you know what time I’m talking about, you’re as cool as me and we should get together more often). Even at the most basic level, I look back at which blog posts on this site have been commented, and which haven’t, and almost without exception, the happy ones have none. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all the lovely things people have said to me when things have been hard, and I’m not asking for more comments on other blogs, but it does somewhat prove a point, don’t you think?

I keep finding little things I want to do: books I want to read, films I want to watch, lie-ins I want to make sure I have. I’m just not sure I have the time these days. And to add to it all, I have now booked my driving test, so really I could do with some practice.

Susie is off for an early night, there’s one thing off her list.

Susie is sure someone said she deserved better than this

I think getting over this situation quickly was a bit of a ridiculous notion; deep down I think I knew I could never do it. Although I suppose the fact that I tried was more effort than I’ve made in the past. Ultimately I was always dreading but never expecting something like this to happen. Doesn’t stop it feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach though. Whatever this chemical is that’s making my heart beat so unnaturally fast and hard, I’m sure they should be using it in hospitals somewhere.

And to top things off, everyone else seems to be going through much worse things; so I feel far from justified to feel like this and act like I do.

Susie is feeling like shit. But she’ll pretend she isn’t, don’t worry.

Susie is tanning up nicely

Susie is sorry if you were expecting a pleasant holiday-recap-blog today, and to be honest, her holiday was fantastic; but there’s something else that she would rather write about, because it’s negative and judgemental and ranty, and currently occupying her thoughts beyond the Floridian villa and theme parks and stingrays. Susie is just like that.

It’s desperately irritated me for quite a while how so many boys (oh yes, it’s about boys, Susie is that much of a teenager) go for the same stereotypical girl. You know the type; the short, skinny, pretty, flirty girl, who’ll sit on a guy’s lap and play with her hair and laugh at everything he says, even when it isn’t funny. The girl who knows exactly what she’s doing and knows that guys are looking at her and wanting her. The girl who’ll act stupid so that he’ll take the piss and she can hit him on the arm and he can say it doesn’t hurt.

And I suppose I’ve always accepted that ‘boys’ in general go for that kind of girl, but it gets to me when I see that the boys I choose to be friends with are exactly the same. Even the most lovely, seemingly mature, well-meaning boys will always chase after that same girl; and it astounds me how they don’t realise how much they are manipulated by her. I know it shouldn’t surprise me, but somehow every time I manage to convince myself that maybe that’s not what they’re bothered about, that maybe they actually do look beyond all the crap that ‘she’ puts on to the person she really is - these boys, my boys, my friends, always do something to prove that they’re just like all the others, and that I’ll never really match up to that; I’ll always come second best, because that’s not me. And much as it kills me every time I realise that, I don’t want that to be me.

It’s obvious even to me that this is all just a jealousy thing (which ultimately is something I need to work on anyway), but even so, I wouldn’t want to be ‘her’ I don’t think it’s right how she treats boys, and I wouldn’t want to be so blind as to not realise that ‘she’ was me. Much as I may dislike what things are like at the moment, I wouldn’t change it. I think I’d rather have something to complain about.

Susie is done with this.

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Well, there's a million other girls who do it just like you
Looking as innocent as possible
To get to who they want and what they like
It's easy if you do it right
Well, I refuse, I refuse, I refuse
Paramore - Misery Business

Susie is calming down

I still can’t quite believe the summer is here. This is the time that we look forward to every year, relaxation and all that jazz; but I’m so used to only having short holidays, that I keep expecting it to finish any second – I’ve never had that before. But then I don’t think I’ve ever been so overwhelmed by the thought of finishing a school year as I am this year. Looking back at the blog I wrote before going into year 12, I can’t believe how quickly this year has gone, how quickly I sank into the day-to-day of being a sixth former: frees, munch, the kitchen, non-uniform. It’s been a bloody good year, no? All those things that I was excited about in September, forming closer friendships with special people – they’ve all happened; and I really love it.

I’m going to Florida in two weeks; I think it may well be the best holiday of my life. Not only are we staying in a villa with our own pool (which has made me blissfully happy for the last 3 years around Europe), but we’re going to theme parks and shopping malls and eating way too much fast food in a country where everyone speaks our language, topped off with a ‘have a nice day’ (which I’m sure will get annoying eventually, but I can still be excited about it now, right?). Above and beyond all that is the time I’m going to get away from everything, to think and work stuff out – right now, I reckon that’s what I really need.

Susie is going to be alright, she thinks; this summer will do her the world of good.

Susie is up and down, apparently

Things change, don’t they. One day things are fine, the next, they aren’t. Today? They aren’t. Again, I’m in a shit mood; again, I’m crying. I just wish days like yesterday were twice as long as days like today.

Susie is off for a fucking nap, she doesn’t even want to be awake right now.

Susie is not crying this evening

Man behind counter in Tesco: Hi
Me: (placing box of 5 Tesco Finest Chocolate Tiffin squares on counter) Hiya
Man: You’re not gonna want a bag for these are ya?
Me: (judging that I probably have enough space in my school bag) Nah, you’re alright mate
Man: You’re just gonna munch ‘em anyway
Me: Yup, pretty much
Man: Awesome, that’s £2.02
Me: (hands money) cheers
Man: Thanks a lot, enjoy them won’t you
Me: I will. Thanks.
Man: See ya later.
Me: See ya.
(smiles all round)

It’s little exchanges like this that not only make my day, but make me wonder why we don’t talk to strangers more often. I tip my hat to all those people who are brave enough to find something to say to the people they pass on the street; it’s such a rare sight these days. Why is it that humans are so resigned to such indifference? We can stop and talk to a dog that passes us on a path, two squirrels that have never seen each other before would never just pass by each other with no communication; so why is it that one person smiling to another is so strange, and as for actually stopping and talking, well, that’s reserved for those charity people who harass you on the street and religious nuts?

I’m not saying that we all need to stop every time we pass someone, we’d never get anything done. But what’s so difficult about saying hello? Or good morning? Or having a conversation with the bus driver, or the person working the till at the shop we go to, like I did today?

Susie is quite sure that there would be far less loneliness and depression in the world if all the people of it paid a little more attention to one another.

As for myself; things have been forced into perspective a little since my last blog. Although I’m pretty sure I’m not actually any happier than I was a week ago, I’ve been able to take some space from the thing(s) making me feel quite as crap as I did, and I think at the very least it has made the feelings a little less imminent. Perhaps it’s not safe for me to block things out quite so much, it’ll only lead to a crash later on, but there we go.

For now, I am looking forward to the summer, taking advantage of the extra time school unwittingly gives me for sleeping, and hoping that I will so successfully not think about the things that bother me, that soon they won’t bother me at all.

Susie is better; not ok yet, but better.

Susie is lying when she says she's ok

I’ve got to say, things aren’t going great at the moment. I suppose it’s stupid that the only place I possess to write about things is here, but I’m too scared of some people reading it to actually use it. Fortunately, so many people have been a wonderful help to me recently: letting me ramble and complain, and telling me actually exactly what I want to hear; that I think if I were to write it all down here, it would just be repeating myself, and probably not really helping anyone. I owe a lot to these lovely people I’ve managed to find.

These days I think it takes a lot to actually make me cry. Minor irritations or upsets tend to get laughed under the rug, and even when stuff really gets to me, it usually leads to other things than tears. But there hasn’t been a day this week that I haven’t cried; things that no one else would understand set me off; stupid things, stupid reasons. The fact that they make me cry scares me above all else, because I know how long it’s going to take for me to get over them properly.

So much has changed recently, and it’s taking my mind a little while to get used to it all. ‘The way things were’ just isn’t quite the same anymore, and I’m not sure I’m handling it very well. I don’t know if it’s helping or not that school is such a waste of time at the moment. I only had one lesson today, first period. Granted, I love to doss; but it tends to leave a lot of time for thinking and feeling sorry for myself and getting caught up in things.

I’ve spent a lot of time reading recently; well, a lot of time for me. Normally I only ever read when I’m away on holiday, but over the last couple of weeks I’ve felt the urge to re-read some of the books I read last summer; probably, as Zoë put it, to try and escape a bit. And actually, it’s wonderfully effective. There’s something refreshing about being able to switch off that conscious part of your brain that worries and gets emotional and stressed, but still be able to stimulate the bit that gets left out when you’re just dumbly watching some crap television. I think when real school-time rolls around again, I won’t have as much time for such a luxury, so I plan to make the most of this in these following weeks.

I wish I could end this entry by saying that I feel better, or that I think tomorrow will be a brighter day; but ultimately I know that I’m only going to end up crying again, and actually, I don’t feel better. Not yet.

Susie is certainly not overdramatic or emo enough to think that she is actually heartbroken, but this is as close as she’d ever like to get.

You took my hand
You showed me how
You promised me you'd be around
I took your words
And I believed
In everything
You said to me

If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
Cause they're all wrong
I know better
Cause you said forever
And ever
Who knew

When someone said count your blessings now
For they're long gone
I guess I just didn't know how
I was all wrong
They knew better
Still you said forever
And ever
Who knew
Pink - Who Knew

Susie is keeping it short

After weeks and weeks of ‘study leave’ and ‘world of work’, tomorrow is finally time to go back to school. It terrifies me a little bit all the grown up things I’m going to be doing in the next year; which, as our beloved senior management love to remind us, technically starts tomorrow, 8.45am – because attendance to registration is key, of course. Things like doing my A2s, the last qualification of my school life; applying to universities; visiting universities; going to interviews; being in the oldest year in the school. After a few discussions with school people, we’ve established that we’re all only GCSE students at heart, year 10s, maybe 11s at a push, but it still shocks me that I’m a sixth former and I don’t think I’m ready for it yet.

Things have been a bit strange recently, and I think I must have been one of the most terribly irritating people to be friends with; I pity and thank those who have put up with me. Day to day I seem to flick from really happy to really not, based on circumstances which probably don’t even change. I’d write about them, but I don’t even know what’s going on myself; and I think I’ve been told quite firmly that waiting and trusting and ‘seeing what happens’ actually is the best thing to do.

Susie is watching George Sampson’s first audition again, and is still very much in love with him.

Susie is waiting

So technically I’m really happy at the moment. Exams are over, so I no longer have to continuously feel guilty for not revising more, or face relentless nagging from my parents along the same lines; I have nothing to worry about, and a week to relax not worrying about anything in; I have lovely friends and things are basically just wonderful. Unfortunately today is one of those days when I’m so tired and bored that I’m struggling to actually feel happy at all. Everything does just seem that little bit worse when you haven’t got the energy to appreciate it.

And I’m sitting here with absolutely nothing to do other than watch crap TV; write a blog entry which is shaping up to be absolutely nothing worth reading; wait for a text or a call or an invitation I’m never going to get, and think about things. And of course because I’m tired and bored, I find myself only thinking about the nitty gritty details of all the wonderful things I mentioned earlier that make them anything less than wonderful.

I don’t quite know what would actually make things better today, all I know is that I’m actually irritating myself with this blog, so I dread to think what it’s doing to you.

Susie is quitting while she isn’t even ahead.

Susie is walking

For years I told myself that one day I would buy a travel card and just spend the whole day around London by myself. Getting the tube to places I haven’t been before, and just walking and thinking and enjoying the city. And yesterday, I finally did it. Having been lectured somewhat the night before by my mother that i would never get anywhere in life ever if i never do any work, I was frankly in a terrible mood; and it was at this point I decided to go and be productive in a way that I actually wanted to, doing something I’d always wanted to, taking time to think and sort things out for myself.

And it was fantastic. I got off at Liverpool Street and just walked for an hour, not knowing or giving a crap where I was going, what road I was taking or where it would be going to. I listened to businessmen on mobiles talking about 120 grand as if it was nothing, I watched people walking in their expensive suits and thought about how strange it was that they were walking down the same road as me because it was actually the fastest way to get to where they wanted to be, rather than because they felt like it. At one point I found myself at the front entrance to the Gherkin, and let me tell you, if you think it looks impressive from a long way away, or on those big wide shots of London you see on TV, it’s even more incredible from the very bottom of it looking up. I saw people walking into it and people coming out of it for a fag, and thought how weird it was that that was normal for them. I stroll into my school every weekday, go to the room next to the kitchen, that’s what’s normal and natural for me, that’s my place; but these people, their place is this incredible building, and it’s just as normal for them.

A year ago on holiday in Italy my parents decided that a fun day out for us would be to visit these massive caves, I’ll admit, they were absolutely awesome. But we had this tour guide taking us round and telling us about all the rock formations and things, and she just seemed so unbothered by it. We got to this one cave called the ‘Great Abyss’ (fantastic name, don’t you think?), it was hundreds of meters high, and from the top, you couldn’t see the bottom because it was too dark – pretty cool. And of course we had to climb down the side of it; the stairs were barely existent, hideously steep, and of course wet. I was shaking the whole way down, holding onto anything I could find, just incase my feet gave way and I plummeted to my death. But here’s the thing, the tour guide wasn’t. She was hopping down those stairs like they were hers at home; the fear wasn’t there, the amazement at where we were had vanished – just like those people strolling into the Gherkin, it was all normal to her. And that scared me. It scared me that the incredible can just become regular, just because you do it so often. It scared me that I might end up doing a job which I might well love, but that I would lose sight of how amazing it was; I might even lose sight of it so much that I got bored of it. Is it just me who finds that a horrible prospect?

Anyway, back to London. After a couple of hours, I found a nice bit of grass on the south bank to lie on, it was sunny and I think I may have fallen asleep for a bit. It was so nice, I was pretty genuinely happy there. That’s the thing about London; it makes me happy just being there. Something about the mixture of old and new architecture, the traffic, the busyness, the feel of the place; I just love it. I thought about taking my mp3 player with me so I could listen to music as I walked, but I realised I didn’t want to, I wanted to listen to the city, I wanted to walk around it not as an outsider, not as someone looking in, but as part of it. And yes, I managed it. And I was overwhelmed by a sort of pride about the city, our Capital City. As much as I think that any French person has a connection with Paris, so we have a connection with London. And true, it’s scummy in places, there are huge estates that you recognise from those TV programmes about crime and people trying to turn them around and you’re sure that at least 30 people have been killed on some streets, and it’s polluted and there’s traffic everywhere and the prices are extortionate; but who cares? That’s what makes London what it is, that’s what makes it ours and that’s what makes it great.

After lying on my patch of grass for a while, I walked a little further down the bank, until I reached a sign saying ‘Caution, Filming in Progress’, so I walked a bit further up, and who was there? Only Dustin Hoffman. The actual, genuine, real life Dustin Hoffman. I watched filming for a while, and at one point, he had a break, and I swear we had some eye contact. It was awesome.

After that, I was pretty much ready to go home, and spent the entire journey back trying not to let my new celebrity best friend be the highlight of my day.

Susie is wondering if Dustin Hoffman finds acting normal yet. Right now, acting is one of the few things that makes her happy, she doesn’t know what she would do if it stopped being able to do that.

I genuinely recommend taking a day for yourself. Go somewhere; somewhere new, or somewhere you’ve been a hundred times before, it doesn’t matter. Just go. Think and feel and lie in grass and be happy.

Susie is proud that this is the first time she has described something as liberating, without being sarcastic.

Susie is not where she needs to be

I have 2 German exams this afternoon, they’re the first exams so far that I actually need to revise for; and I haven’t really. I’ve learnt about 25 new words, useful ones mind, and that’s about as far as I think I’m going to take it. Mrs Chaudhri is adamant I should get an A, I think I’ll be lucky if I get a B. I’m still not sure if I’m going to carry it on next year or not.

After this, I have 2 weeks with no exams whatsoever; I have a feeling it’s going to be rather lovely, for a number of reasons. Then of course I have 7 exams in 2 days, all the difficult ones, so I suppose there will be some revision in there somewhere.

A wise and beautiful boy recently taught me the joy of being referred to in a blog, and the coolness of a nameless reference which only the two people involved will understand. I only wish that I could give similar joy to all those people who mean something to me; but if I tried, it would just end up with a big game of Guess Who Susie’s Talking About; equally, I know that most people wouldn’t even get round to reading it. So we’ll leave it for now eh.

Trisha Goddard is on the TV at the moment. I wonder what possesses people to actively choose to portray themselves as angry, uncontrollable idiots on national television.

Susie is going to put on some socks, test her portable cassette player again, and then get into school; this exam is going to be a delight, Susie is quite sure.

Susie is home again

I have very little to say, but it irritated me having such a depressing blog as my most recent entry when actually I’m in a very good mood. I had an absolutely lovely weekend away with church this weekend. We were at a new place, because our much-loved Herne Bay went bankrupt and shut down, and it was absolutely amazing. 220 acres of land and a massive stately home, seriously, incredible. Sally decided not to come in the end, so it was pretty much just me and the boys for a lot of it, but it was really good. The weather was beautiful, the grounds were perfect; we spent half the time walking around with cameras and half the time playing cards. Freaking awesome.

Susie is not even thinking about exams tomorrow, even though she probably should be.

Susie is paranoid

And Susie is quite aware she needs to work on it.

I’m not used to things going right; I’m not used to things going the way I wanted. Especially when it comes to all those stupid things that girls care about more than they should and more than they ever let on. I’m scared of being disappointed by things, I’m scared of things happening that I hadn’t expected. You know, those things that just come completely out of the blue and make you feel sick.

For a while, I don’t think it made much of a difference; but now I’m starting to worry that it really is changing me. I don’t know if it’s a poor way of dealing with it, or just general cynicism, but I’ve found I always convince myself that the worst is going to happen. I’ll play through the worst possible situation again and again in my head until I truly believe that that’s what’s going to happen. That way, I’ll always be prepared for it, right? I can be happily surprised by something but never disappointed.

But even once something has gone right, once my genuine predictions have been proved wrong, I’m still just waiting for something to go wrong. When other people would be happy that for once things are working out, I’m sitting expecting it to be over any minute. I’ll look around for things that might mess things up, and convince myself they’re going to happen; sometimes I think I completely invent some myself.

And I feel like I should try to be more optimistic; I feel like I should only focus on the things that are going right, relax and take things as they come. But honestly? I can’t live like that, I’m terrified of life like that. If I’m not ready for the things that go wrong, then I won’t be able to deal with them when they do, will I?

The problem is, now I think this way of preparing myself for things going wrong is actually causing things to go wrong itself. People think I should change it, deep down I think I should change it; but I think I’m too scared.

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perhaps it's just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Susie is sorry, again.

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Susie is nervous, for some reason. And not the good kind of nervous that I get before I'm about to go on stage; the kind that I thrive on and enjoy, where I shake and my heart beats faster and I know that my body is coursing with adrenaline and I’m excited about what I’m about to do. Not even the kind of nervous I get before an exam, where I accept what I’m about to do but equally accept that worrying about it won’t make it go any better.

No, today I feel the sort of nervous I expect other people feel before either of those things, when I tell them to relax or enjoy it because I’ve never understood how they feel those kinds of nerves. I feel sick, I can’t concentrate, I can’t enjoy things, I can’t even sleep. As soon as I wake up, I start thinking over things and the queasy feeling in my stomach comes back, and I just can’t get to sleep again, and that was something I always used to be able to do. And it’s horrible, and I don’t know exactly why I feel like it, and I really, really wish it would go away.

Susie is avoiding important things

Exam time is looming, and as such I have done absolutely no revision, or even work which might help. I’m not sure when I’m going to have that sudden realisation that these are important and that if I don’t try I’m going to fail. Unfortunately, I’m terribly unmotivated. I’ve spent an entire afternoon with the laptop on my knee, supposedly doing my chemistry plan, but actually just watching episodes of house for the second, or in one case third time.

My final German oral is tomorrow morning. I’m still not prepared for it, and I think I’m pretty unlikely to get the A that Frau Chau thinks I should be getting. I think there’s a limit to how many noun genders and adjective endings I can give a crap about getting right when they’re trying to get spontaneous speech out of me. Well, we’ll see how it goes eh.

Tuesday looks to be a crazy day. Chemistry plan and a german paper due in. Then I’m off to see Dara O’Brian in the evening; I think he’s hilarious, so I’m excited.

I have more that I could say today, but I’m not going to. Let’s just say, things are finally looking up :)

Susie is shocked, excited, happy, and above all – so very lucky.

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The next day.

There is a bit in The Kooks' song 'Do you Wanna' which I swear sounds exactly like my phone telling me i have a text. I get excited every time i hear it :(

Oh, and the German oral went alright. Yet another reason to thank the Lord.

Susie is not actually being blasphemous this time.

Susie is thinking wishfully

So let’s face it, I’ve done a whole load of myspace bulletin quizzes recently, they’re pretty dull and are a poor distraction from work and the such, but I suppose they’ve had their advantages (depending on which way you look at it) in that most of what I’m going to write today has been inspired by them. They're disjointed and longwinded, but who are we kidding, this is a blog not an essay.

One question which seems to crop up on every quiz is something along the lines of ‘Do you miss anyone right now?’, and there isn’t a single one I’ve read where the answer to that has been a definitive no. I guess missing people is just something that happens all the time to all of us. It’s something I’m not sure if I admire or despise about the human race, that we have such a desire to be sociable, that the inability to be so actually causes us a level of pain.

One of the best known side-effects of pregnancy is unusual cravings. A little while ago I learnt that cravings are actually based on genuine needs your body has. If you’re Vitamin C levels are low, you may well crave citrus fruits. The reason women get such weird cravings during pregnancy is that their hormones mess things up so they misperceive the genuine need. Could it be that we actually crave the company of a certain person? Maybe that dull ache we call ‘missing someone’, is actually our bodies’/brains’ way of telling us we need them.

I’ve come to realise how very much I appreciate consistency in my life. You wouldn’t believe it, because I’m one of the least consistent people you’ll find. In German for example, I hadn’t handed one piece of work in on time this year, until this week, were I handed all three in on time. In relationships, I chop and change; I’ll be happy one day and depressed the next. Perhaps it’s just called being a teenager, but either way, I’m horrifically inconsistent. But for some reason, I like the simple constants I have. I like to have a bracelet I wear every single day; not because it means something to me, not because it was a gift, not for any reason other than that I wear it every day. I like having someone I talk to every single day; someone that I know wants to talk to me every day as well. Someone with whom it’s just a given that we will have a conversation that day, and if one of us doesn’t start it, the other one will. Maybe I just think that if something is consistent enough, I can never lose it, and I think I’m more scared of losing things than I like to admit. It terrifies me that one day in the future; I might have completely lost contact with the people who today are so very important to me. My parents never talk to their secondary-school friends. If one good thing comes from the excessive amount of technology around today, perhaps it’ll be that I won’t have to lose my friends like they have.

And every time I think about this, it irritates me how very much effort I have to put into reminding myself that I have a friend who is absolutely and completely constant. I have a friend who I can talk to every day. I have a friend I can talk to every minute if I want to. I have a friend who not only can I never lose contact with, but that can never die. I have a friend who will love me consistently, no matter what I do. God is the only thing that I know will always be consistent in my life. I guess it must just disappoint him that I’m still horrifically inconsistent myself.

Susie is moving on to something else entirely.

I’m starting to wonder if there’s actually anything better than two people being genuinely in love. Because that just encompasses everything doesn’t it? And I don’t mean the sort of ‘love’ I hear about when one of my friends has been going out with her new boyfriend for three months and they really like each other and everything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doubting their relationship (well, in most cases anyway), they could have the closest relationship that anyone can at our age; I just don’t think it’s on the same scale as when we’ve grown up and got a load more life experience. I don’t know, maybe I’m just too cynical, but who of us hasn’t thought we were in love, but then looked back and realised we weren’t even close? Hell, I just really hope I get there sometime.

I’m going out for dinner with Rosie tomorrow, to café Rouge, where we’ve been twice before; to order moules-frites which I’ve ordered twice before; to discuss important things and frivolous things back to back, like we have twice before. Another wonderful little tradition, a consistency.

Susie is really looking forward to it.

Susie is making an announcement

Ladies and gentlemen, I have found a woman I actually like (that will make a lot more sense if you read my last post). Her name is Lizzie, she’s a singer, and she’s incredible. She was the backup singer for the worship group at spring harvest last year, and (much to my insane joy) she was back again this year. Not only does she have an incredible voice, but she’s just awesome. My boys say that she’s too masculine to be hot, maybe that’s why I like her. They also say I’m a lesbian; I remind them that in general, I hate women, so that’s unlikely. I don’t fancy her. I love her.

In the time I’ve been writing this, I’ve also found that she has a myspace and is releasing an album. I have added her as a friend. Unfortunately, I know she won’t be able to accept my request until she gets back from week three of spring harvest, unless she takes a trip to the cybercafé, which I so nobly avoided last week. Having had people attempt to persuade me to just go and talk to her all week, I am going to go about it in the way I do best, hiding behind modern technology to avoid any awkward face to face moments.

Susie is just a little concerned that this blog will receive some fairly hilarious but very unnecessary abusive comments from complete strangers who do not understand her sense of humour. She would like to point out that she does not think she is in love with this woman, that would be ridiculous.



On a similar note, there is the awful possibility that I may be as close to horrifically, shamefully, want-to-kill-myself in love as one can be at 17 with a certain boy. Again.

Susie is not looking forward to this.

Susie is overdue

Back in January, I wrote about this boy I know. I wrote about how much I love him and how much I miss him anytime we haven’t spoken for a while.
We haven’t spoken for 3 weeks now. He just hasn’t been online. Well, that’s not necessarily true, he’s been on myspace (I know not because I stalk him, but because he’s in my top friends so I happen to see the little ‘online now’ thing every now and then), but not msn. I’m guessing I’m blocked or something. I have to say, I would like to know why. I’m doing my best to be angry at him, but actually I think I just miss him. The bastard.

It’s getting to that stage of a drama performance where it’s taking over my entire life; it feels like all I ever do is rehearse, or think about rehearsing, or write a bloody portfolio about rehearsing. I love it though, I love having that kind of project, and I know that I’m going to love performing it on the night. Even if I’m not the biggest fan of certain members of my group, and a little doubtful of their ability to actually act. That sounds pretentious. I don’t care.

Susie is misogynistic. That’s a new and exciting word I learnt recently (courtesy of Mr Tom Barnes), and I’ve found myself using it more and more; because I really am. I really just don’t like women. Or girls. They bitch, they whine, they moan, they’re complicated, they over-dramatise everything, they flirt, they can’t do sport, they complain when people tell them they can’t do sport, they treat guys like crap, they’re over-sensitive, they always want attention even if they say they don’t; they’re just so irritating, I don’t see how guys can stand them. And yes, I realise that I am one, and I probably do most of those things on the list, but still.
It’s feminists that annoy me most. If they didn’t get so cagey and arsey about sexism, I doubt it would be as much of a problem. I just don’t understand why they feel the need to argue against people thinking that which is true. Females, biologically, were created to be the weaker, less brave sex, who gives birth and rears young. That’s what we do. Why can’t people face up to it, hell why can’t people ‘embrace’ it and enjoy it. Alright, so I probably won’t be a ‘traditional’ housewife, because I reckon I’d get a bit bored; but if one of my guy friends makes a joke about how a woman’s place is in the kitchen, I’m not going to quarrel it, I’m sure as hell not going to snap at them and try to out-argue them, because they’ve got a fair point. And if that is what they want in a wife, they have every right to look for it. People who say women’s sport should be as well-recognised as men’s sport, no it shouldn’t! Women’s sport is shyte compared to men’s. Live with it.

Would I rather be a man? Nah, maybe I’m this way round for a reason. Plus, if I was a guy who disliked girls as much as I do, I’d have to turn gay, and that would open a whole other can of worms.

Susie is going to do some goddamn drama portfolio, because it’s due in tomorrow, and she is supposed to care about this subject.

Susie is all bunged up

I’m off school today. Was yesterday as well. To be fair, I’m not quite as ill as I could be, but my face is all full of stuff it doesn’t want to be and my tonsils are the size of golf balls, so I figure that’s enough; and besides, normally I have to argue like hell with my mother to let me have the day off, and this time it was her idea, so I wasn’t really going to say no, was I?

I’ve slept silly amounts the last few days. Yesterday I woke up at half 5 in the evening, and I’d slept fine all night as well. I tend to figure that if I can sleep that much, I should be sleeping that much. Maybe I’m anaemic or something. I’ll have a vitamin tablet.

Susie is all about the orange juice nowadays, she used to be an apple juice girl.

I’m writing this completely out of boredom, that’s why it’s so shit. I’m sorry, I’ll go to bed now.

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Susie is putting two entries in one, because the last one wasn't really worth reading.

This one isn't going to be either.

I've just been let out of a chemistry lesson to revise, because I missed a test when I was off, and there won't be enough time to do it in the lesson. So now would be a prefect time to get some work done, or actually do some revision, right? Well, I'm not. Internet restrictions have lapsed somewhat, and now we can access blogspot and myspace at school (secretly of course, only a few know how) so the chances of me ignoring these and getting to work were always pretty low.

Besides, I'm off on a trip in 15 minutes, so I wouldn't really be able to get anything substantial done anyway. Well, that'll be my excuse.

I will however, sip my lemsip, mess around on here, and try to think of a way to fix my bag which is very broken and I have to carry to London soon :(

Susie is wondering if anyone has a safety pin she could borrow?

I'm going to an 18th tonight, it should be quite good fun. I'll get to see Sally and my boys, who I haven't seen since last thursday, and finally meet Sally's boyfriend, so that'l be lovely I'm sure.

I'm quite tired actually, not sure I'm looking forward to this treck into London. Granted the History Boys will be at the other end, but still, what ever happened to hiring a coach for school trips eh?

Right, that's it, I'm off on a hunt for a bag fixing device. Laters.

Susie is laughing

My dear anonymous commenter,
The fact that you even wrote that just proves how very little you know me. When I said I was going to be miserable on Valentines day, I was joking. I have by far enough perspective to realise that having a boyfriend is not actually that important, which is why it doesn’t bother me. I have plenty of people who like me for all the reasons that actually matter; far more than you, based on what I can assume of your attitude.
I, for one, never take things out on other people, I’m not sure where you got that idea from. And I certainly don’t take things out on strangers on the internet, without even having the balls to give my name.
‘Jst a idea’ for you. Firstly, learn how to spell and some basic grammar, people will respect you a lot more; secondly, don’t ever assume that you know me, because trust me darling, you don’t.
You really have put me in such a good mood today; because now I can always know, no matter how ‘down’ I may get, I will never ever be as sad and pathetic as you.
Drop by again sometime, sweetheart, it’s been lovely having you.

Susie is almost falling asleep at the keyboard

This is going to be a really bitty entry. I have nothing interesting to say and all the boring things are only small.

Half term has finally arrived, and yet again it seems to be full of things to do as well as that niggling need to do some work. In fact, not just some work; a hell of a lot of work. The chances of any of it getting done are so low, I might not even try.

We had a little trip to London on Monday; Zoë, Raz, Anna, Chris, Fergy and myself. It was a lovely little crew and I had an absolutely wonderful time. There’s something about London which always makes me happy. The whole atmosphere of the place, the sense of being something very small in the middle of a huge city, the architecture; all of it, I really do love it there. One day I plan to just buy myself a travelcard and spend the day there going from place to place on my own, hopefully never really knowing where I am or where I’m going to. It’s so easy to think there.

In 2 hours, it’s going to be Valentine’s Day again. I’m really not a big fan of it, the hopelessly bitter single that I am; last year I got very drunk indeed on an awful lot of Vodka and Coke. But not this year. This year I’ll just be miserable and sober :)

I’ve found a new pet-hate recently: when people say ‘literally’ about something that is clearly not literal. For example ‘this will literally blow your mind’. Shut up.

Susie is probably going to bed soon because she was up until 5 in the morning at Ally's.

Susie is smiling

Isn’t it strange how conversation always seems to flow better when one person is trying to cheer the other up? Or is that just me? It’s worked out that way a couple of times in the last little while, and I’ve never really noticed it before. And somehow, even if you’re not the one being cheered up, you always leave the conversation happier, just for seeing the other person smile.

This is only a short (and sweet) entry before I hop off to bed. It’s fairly rare I feel this peaceful and happy; I just wanted to make a little record of it.

Susie is completely reminded of exactly why she loves him so much, and is laughing at herself for ever thinking she could change that.

You know what? I don't even want to change it.

Susie is rambling on.

I think at some point I made a decision that I was only going to write in this blog when I actually had something worthwhile to say. I think my last one sort of fell apart when I started to write for the sake of it and ended up with truly pointless and deadly boring entries.

Susie is warning readers that this is quite likely to be one of those entries.

Ami’s back from Southend this week, on an ‘emergency holiday’. It’s when I see her again that I realise how much I’ve missed her. For a year or two we saw each other 4/5/6 times a week and suddenly it’s been cut to once a month at most. It’s horrible if I’m honest. Who knows, maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been feeling so crap lately.

She’s my best friend. I love her so much.

I’ve had ‘Tell Him’ by Celine Dion and Barbara Streisand playing for most of the weekend. I’m a sucker for a good harmony, and this song has a beautiful one that just makes you go ‘mmmm’. If you’re like me and Izzy anyway.

I cried because I got a paper cut today. I’m terrified of them and this one was particularly horrible.

Now I’m crying for another reason.
This is just the opposite of how I hoped, but exactly how I expected it would be.

Susie is in a bit of a daze

Today, I had to try and explain my feelings about a certain person to someone else. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried and failed and sounded like a bit of an idiot. But I think I might finally try and work this one out; spell it out for myself and probably still sound like a bit of an idiot.

A couple of things to point out: firstly, yes he’s a guy; secondly, no it’s not like that.

I’ve always thought that I can pretty much tell this guy anything, it’s worked out that he doesn’t really know any of my friends, so anything I say, I know will never get back to them. I never actually see him, which (for this reason only) is a bonus, because I can tell him whatever and not be embarrassed when I have to see him the next day.
But actually, when it comes down to it, there’s a hell of a lot I can’t tell him, because a lot of what I would want to say or get off my chest or whatever, is about him. And even the stuff that isn’t, I’m not sure I tell him anywhere near as much as I used to, because I’m becoming increasingly concerned about what he thinks of me.
The long and short of it is: I can’t remember the last day I went without thinking about him. I adore him. He’s one of those genuinely lovely people in the world, and everything he does just makes me admire and love him more. He’s the sort of person I wish I could be. Somehow, talking to him makes me happy, and I still don’t really understand why. The thought of losing him terrifies me, and yet I barely even ‘have’ him to lose.
But the most ridiculous thing is I’ve barely even met him. I talk to him online and that’s pretty much it [and if he’s reading this and didn’t already realise, he now knows it’s him I’m talking about].

I used to hate how much I love him, because it is pretty stupid, and fairly unexplainable, and completely unreciprocated. But recently, I started wondering if it is ever right to hate love. Is it possible to love someone too much? After all, ‘Love comes from God’, is it not something which should be encouraged rather than disputed? I still haven’t worked out the answer. All I know, is that talking to him, and knowing that I have him, at least on some level, is one of the few things which actually gets me through the days. Which is partly why I miss him so much when we haven’t spoken for a while. And why it scares me that the tiniest thing could take that away from me. Even though it is stupid, maybe just the fact that it makes me happy every now and then is worth it?

This blog has actually ended up shorter than I thought it would be, and I still don’t think I’ve even remotely adequately described how much he means to me. I think he knows though. And maybe that’s good enough.

And what’s more, Susie is bloody happy, because for the first time in two years, she actually saw him today :)

Susie is not dead, don't worry.

Haha, as if you were worrying. Anyway, I’ve noticed that I haven’t blogged for a while. Not because I haven’t had anything to say, just because I haven’t really been able to put it into words. I’m not sure I’m going to do any better today.

During the last week I’ve made a fairly big decision which will probably affect the rest of my life. It’s a very boring decision, but it does change things somewhat. For the last couple of years I’ve been pretty sure I wanted to do zoology or animal science or something like that at university; something which will land me a nice, well paid job with animals. Following a visit from the Oxford Uni admissions officer in PSHE, I’ve come to realise that I don’t actually enjoy science lessons all that much. Perhaps it’s because I’m not doing so well in them this year, perhaps its because half of my teachers are either shit or horrible, perhaps it’s because I’ve never really liked science at all. Basically, I’m not sure I’m a very academic type person. I don’t respond well to mathematic problem/solution type set up. I’m not motivated enough to enjoy a challenge, and I’m not serious enough to gain satisfaction from success alone. And I don’t think it’s worth putting myself through 3 or 4 years of university I don’t enjoy, for a job that probably doesn’t even exist.

So instead, I’m going to do a drama degree. Like I said in a previous entry, I adore drama, I really do, I enjoy every lesson, and I’m even happy to do the written work. The way I see it, so far in my life, I’ve made my decisions based almost entirely on what I enjoy; why should I change now? So many people do degrees and then get a job not even related to them. I’m not deluded enough to believe I’ll ever get a career in drama, so I’m happy to take another route once I get there. Maybe I’ll find something else I enjoy by then. I don’t think I’m the sort of person who will settle for some crap job I don’t want to do, I’ll still be this stubborn when I leave university I’m sure.

Hopefully, this change of direction will make the truly appalling mark I just got in a chemistry module a little less important.

Susie is keeping her fingers crossed

There was another, slightly more interesting thing I wanted to say, but I think I’d rather keep it separate for some reason. I think I might need more time to think about it as well.

Susie is not as hopeful as she might be

I don’t quite understand people who think that a new year is going to be any different to the year before. All it is, is another day, another month; and somehow, because it’s another year, it’s ‘special’. We look back on the past year and think about the good times and the bad times, and vow that the new one will be better and happier and different. But it never is, is it. Years can be good, and years can be bad, but there are still the day to day struggles that can’t be banished by any wishful thinking.

New Year is supposedly a time to make resolutions, to change oneself; when the truth is, if you have any real intention of keeping to your resolution, you would have made it as soon as you realised it needed to be made.

There are so many different statistics on how successful New Years resolutions are, but in the end they all boil down to the fact that they are so very rarely seen through. And it’s because people don’t really care about them; they make resolutions because it’s a new year and that’s just what you do, but to me, it seems like a completely pointless exercise, because everyone knows they’ll never last.

Susie is perhaps just a little too pessimistic.

I’m right in the middle of my year’s resolution. I made it at Easter, when it needed to be made. And although my reasons for doing it are somewhat flawed now, I will keep it up; perhaps just as proof to myself that I can do things if I really want to.

I’ll get back to you on that one. It’ll be a good result. I promise.

Susie is, in fact, a little more optimistic than she thought.