Susie is

Susie is shamelessly promoting

2011-07-23T00:00:00.000+01:00

This guy knows a thing or two about sports. And then a few more.

Worth a check for sure.

http://sportcentraluk.blogspot.com/

Susie is buzzing

2010-03-16T03:42:00.004Z

I’ve just had a really good night.

Tonight was the final performance of one of our modules (Theatre and its Others, for anyone who cares). It was amazing how everyone pulled together, a little weird in fact. We had a pretty full-on day; rehearsals and what-not galore. But at the end of it, everyone was just happy for everyone else. Almost the entire year went to the SU afterwards, and as shit as Drapers is, everyone had a good time because we were all there together. Every person you bumped into would tell you how amazing your piece was, and somehow everyone was being honest.

The standard being set her is so high, I watch other people and am amazed that I am part of the same crowd; also doing a drama degree, also getting the same (if not better) marks. It’s wonderful.

At the end of the night, the tutors (one of whom - my tutor, obviously - I love as much as I loved Rowelly) had a drink with us, and we got to chat with them, and they were so happy, it was great. It’s times like this when I’m so glad I took a Drama degree. There’s a level of teamwork and comradery involved that is so lacking from other courses, but I think I crave. Tonight we all just grouped together and celebrated. Even people I didn’t know but saw on stage, we got to know each other for the sake of Drama (how pretentious does that sounds) and just had a good time.

As much as I love Flat 12, and the values it upholds (laziness and bumming around and not being cool) I do like a good night out. I like getting a bit drunk and I like partying and I like going to shitty Dixie Chicken up the road and feeling like I’m part of the cool group.

That’s what tonight was. I was cool for once, I was accepted, I fucking partied, and I fucking loved it.

Susie is changing scenery

2010-02-25T23:43:00.002Z

So, you will see that this here page has a whole new look. I could have spent this week tapping into the mountain of work I have due in any day now; instead I have spent it reliving my Myspace days - template generators and fumbling through html. Sure, I’ll change my mind about it within a week and sure, my head hurts a little bit from staring at my laptop too long, but I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it anyway. Besides, I’m 19 in 5 days; that makes me 20 in 370 days. And alas, I think that means my days of spending all waking hours in my jammies, fannying about on a computer are numbered.

It’s been a bit of a crap week, if I’m honest. I’ve been bored out of my mind at home - too bored to be happy, too lazy to do anything about it. I think I need structure a little more than I like to admit. Granted, my uni schedule isn’t exactly hectic, but perhaps it’s more stimulating than the (albeit masterfully engineered) TV schedule I’ve been keeping to this week. Maybe it’s just the company I miss; even if we don’t spend every second together, I think I like knowing that I’ve got flatmates down the hall should I want them.

Next week is going to quite counteract this one on all those fronts. I’ve got plenty of work due in, so plenty to keep me busy; I’ll have people around me all the time, from all different areas of my life; I think there’s even a risk I might enjoy going to my classes.

Susie is hoping that soon she will have something interesting to talk about.

Susie is in Essex, innit

2010-02-21T15:28:00.003Z

It’s reading week this week, so I’m back home for a bit. Flat 12 always gets so depressing when reading week comes around. Everyone goes home - well, except for our delightful new Nigerian contingent who will right now be enjoying running like maniacs up and down our hall, using all our kitchen stuff and burning stuff to it. Yeah, they’re a delight.

Anyway, basically, everyone goes home the first second they possibly can. I don’t know if I should feel bad about not missing my home as much as they seem to be. Last term I was home almost every other weekend for one thing or another; this term I’ve not come home at all until now and it really hasn’t bothered me. I don’t really know what I’m trying to say, maybe the crux of the matter is that I’m just not very nice.

What I’ve realised from this weekend is that it will never stop being weird, leaving the flat. Even coming home for just a week, I still find it odd locking my room and not being there anymore. At the same time, I know that it will be weird when I leave home again to go back. I’m not sure I’m made for this living-in-two-places-at-once thing.

The next little while looks to be pretty good. Granted, this week is likely to be a little dull, getting work done and whatnot; but next weekend the boys are coming down to London for my birthday. As ever, I’ve missed them massively and can’t wait for us all to be back together again, doing pretty much nothing like we always do. Then my birthday falls in the middle of the week, on one of my days off (yesss mate). I will be pleasantly distracted from being depressingly old (yes, 19 is practically dead) by a flat 12 trip to the London aquarium. I count myself very lucky that I’ve found a group of people who are happy to be sad and get as excited about fish as I do. Then the following weekend concludes birthday time with a visit from a few of the CHS girls. It’s going to be a good time, I’m sure of it.

Susie is not sure she can read over that blog without falling asleep, it’s that dull.

All the world's a stage and Susie is merely a player

2010-01-27T21:16:00.004Z

I suppose it’s stupid that I even bother having this blog anymore, since most of the time I’m too lazy to write anything, and even if I do get round to it I seem to find little to blog about than blogging itself. (What’s the word for a statement that somehow proves itself? I hope there is a word for it, because that was one).

I guess it comes down to whether I’m writing this for my own benefit or for someone else’s. These days, I’ve found that when I have some issue that I need to work through I usually find someone to rant off to about it. Whereas I used to write it all down, now I think about it and gradually let it out to the people around me. I suppose that’s perhaps a more healthy way to go about things, but ultimately when it comes to writing something down, I don’t really have any more I feel the need to say.

The rather old-school ‘today I did this and this and this’ blog doesn’t really satisfy me, either as a writer or a reader of others; but then there are times when I’d rather hear that from someone than nothing at all. What’s more, I enjoy reading back through old blogs regardless of what kind of content they hold. Maybe ‘enjoy’ is the wrong word, but I do it anyway. I like seeing how I’ve changed and grown up and appreciating how situations which felt horrible at the time resolved themselves and I got through them. Maybe that’s a good enough reason to keep it up.

Things I am enjoying at the moment:

My new double duvet.

The prospect of all of Mike’s friends coming to visit this weekend, all of whom seem like a right laugh and are (thank God) boys. Susie is saying this not because she is desperate and weird, but because she has spent a lot of time around a lot of girls and needs a change.

Being fortunate enough to do a degree in which even the horrible stuff is ultimately still enjoyable. I can’t now imagine having chosen a course for any other reason than it being good fun. Also, most of my new tutors are cracking.

Smirnoff lime vodka. I’m upset it’s a limited edition thing; I would drink it over any other vodka any day.

Being able to wear slouch beanies all day and pretending it’s because it’s cold, not just because I think they’re cold.

Fried cabbage, potato and bacon. Easy peasy, without the peas.

Taking (fairly) impromptu trips to obscure European cities. This time – Oslo, Norway.

Things that are not so enjoyable:

Having to do laundry.

Only being able to watch 72 (or sometimes 42, or sometimes 65) minutes of House/ANTM before having to wait an hour to watch the next bit. Also, having watched all the classic series of House with his original team and now having to decide whether or not to bother with the newer seasons.

Difficult and infuriating people on my course; always ending up in groups with them; having to be pleasant and patient and not smack them in the face.

Spending too much time with an arguing couple. Mike and Caitlin are great, I love them both and I love hanging out with them both individually; but I’m not sure I can stand being around the two of them together as much as I would like. Their arguments are rarely too severe, but awkward none the less and being put in the middle of a row where ultimately neither side is right or wrong is not a favourite pastime of mine. Want a major downer on a trip to Oslo? Go with a 'grumpy' boyfriend and 'irritating' girlfriend.

Susie is off for another 72minutes.

Susie is chilly

2009-12-09T00:33:00.004Z

Things I have learned recently:

Two bottles of cider gives about the right fuzzy buzz for a regular weekday evening.

That probably doesn’t make me an alcoholic.

Having our own washing machine in our own house next year is going to be mind-blowingly amazing, because even though the laundry room is about 30 seconds away from my flat, it is still so much of an effort to actually bother doing my washing that (once again) I am completely out of clothes to wear.

I’m going to miss Flat 12 ridiculous amounts over Christmas.

You can put on a truly crap performance for assessment and your drama class will still tell you it was brilliant, because let’s face it, it’s just polite.

Opening an advent calendar makes my day for about 3 minutes.

Internet TV, a lazy friend down the hall and a tendency to nap is not conducive to an effective work ethic.

‘The Box’ was one of the biggest wastes of 115 minutes of my life.

Wait long enough and you will eventually find someone as obsessed with dinosaurs as you are.

All Cambridge students are the same.

I need to find a better blogging/sleeping balance.

Susie is proud to have imparted these gems.

Susie is disheartened

2009-10-26T17:56:00.000Z

I’ve been shocked this week by how much people are changing now they’re away. Some of my closest friends are turning into people I neither know nor respect, and I don’t know how to react to it. People change, slowly or quickly, it doesn’t matter, it happens. What right have I got to tell these people that they aren’t allowed to, that they have to remain the person that I knew and loved all these years?

I suppose it’s a natural part of uni really. I suppose I just wasn’t really prepared for it, and that’s why it’s hit me so hard today. I’m scared that we’re all going to come back to essex from our various places around the country and not even be able to talk to each other anymore. In some cases, I won’t mourn that loss desperately hard, but in others, it may ruin me.

And ultimately I don’t know if I’m changing to. I mean, originally there was just one person I noticed a change in, but now there are more and more, and I’m wondering if I’m on the list. I don’t even know if I desperately want to be off the list. I don’t for one second think that the ‘old me’ (if there is one) was perfect and all I ever want to be; but I am scared that I could be completely losing sight of her and not even realising it.

Everyone does some stupid things, right? Everyone does things that aren’t really ‘them’, especially when they first go away and they’re with new people. God knows I did. Deep down I’m hoping that that’s all this is, and that my friends are still my friends, somewhere.

Susie is getting used to this shiz

2009-10-08T13:52:00.002+01:00

After a rather over-enthusiastic return to blogging in the first week of uni, it seems I have quite swiftly slipped back into my old ways of feeling like I might want to write something but never really getting round to it – no doubt because I have found a new episode of America’s Next Top Model that simply needs watching.

Susie is turning into a bit of an ANTM addict; further proof that if you deny someone something for long enough, they will eventually want it more than they ever would have if you had just given it to them in the first place.

Anyway, what has happened recentement? The flat has settled down a lot, as I guess one would expect. We’re all working out a little more about each other, how often we’ll be seeing each other, how often we want to be seeing each other – all that jazz. I’ve properly started the course now (Drama, for those of you who didn’t know/forgot) and I’m actually enjoying it as much as I thought I would. I’ve got a fairly light schedule; okay, who am I kidding, I’ve got a piss-easy schedule. I Have 8 contact hours a week, over three days (giving me 4 full days off a week) and 4 or 5 hours of ‘compulsory unsupervised practise’, which so far we haven’t used. It’s a pretty sweet life if I’m honest. My earliest seminar is 11am, meaning every day is pretty much a lie-in, even if I do have to be woken by my alarm. And all the time I have not in seminars is mine to do with whatever I like. As long as I get the (so far fairly moderate) work done, or at least appear to, all is well.

I do of course have one module that takes pretentious pseudo-artistic bullshit to a whole new level. The course summary for ‘Languages of the Body’ looked bearable, it dropped some names of practitioners whose work I actually respect. I then turn up to the introductory seminar and am made to walk around the room and make eye contact with people and ‘if I feel the moment leads me to’ to tell them my name. Alright, I can accept that, it’s a ‘getting to know you’ sort of exercise with some sort of vague theatrical link. But as soon as the course director mentions exploring (everything is explored in drama, never looked at or studied, always explored) and crossing the fine line between theatre and dance, I am quite certain the module is not really for me. This ‘fine line’ which to me seems less of a fine line and more of a glaringly obvious motorway full of cars and big trucks and the occasional dead animal – not really meant to be crossed.

Other than this one module I have great respect for my lecturers and faith in their sanity.

Susie is maybe a little too sentimental for this life

2009-09-25T06:41:00.002+01:00

An update. Right now, it’s 06.25. By the time I finish and upload this, it’ll probably be 7am. As I look outside, I can see the sun rising. And I haven’t even gone to bed yet.

THIS IS UNI.

Earlier today, I wasn’t feeling great. I guess I just wanted to be around people with whom I didn’t have to make an effort. Last night, I was invited out by people on my course; people who I’d spent all day ‘getting to know’, learning the names of etc. I told them that I would see what my flatmates wanted to do, because I hadn’t seen them in a while. Really, all I wanted was to talk to people without asking their names, be in the same room with people without making conversation, be without conversation with people without feeling awkward. I think it was a pretty good job we all went to bed early, because even flatmate time isn’t even completely relaxing at this point. I still feel like I have to make a bit of an effort, I still feel like I have to really concentrate on conversation, and I still feel like laughter is something that is either very deliberately provoked or quite deliberately delivered.

This morning and today, this feeling has only got worse, to be honest. All I want is to speak to really old friends (which is why I’ve been a bit of a text/facebook loser). Beyond that, I need to talk to some boys. Despite my deepest wishes, I’m in a very girl-heavy flat. The talk about shoes and film stars and boys is only going so far, and I really need to talk to some people who will call me names and laugh at me a bit. We took a trip to ikea, and I think I may have been fairly bed company a lot of the time; because every now and then I would make the effort to laugh or say something funny, other than that, I was fairly gormless. I thought about other things and wished I was with other people. I guess that’s what people these days call HOMESICK. I reckon that’s what I am. It’s never really happened before and I don’t think it has anything to do with being at home (although it might to, maybe I just miss the sofa and the bed and being lazy) but more the people I’m used to being around. Meeting new people happens fairly naturally for me, granted there is a lot of trepidation, but I don’t find it difficult once the conversation has begun. None the less, I think I’m struggling to keep up so many new relationships so soon. I want to sink back into old ones which are comfortable and easy.

It’s a good job I have nothing to do tomorrow. I think I may spend most of the day in bed, in my room, or talking to old friends; because right now I really miss it.

Susie is amazed that she is finished by 06.41; she has a lot more to talk about but it will have to wait until tomorrow, because right now it is bed time.

Susie is a proper student

2009-09-23T05:09:00.003+01:00

So once again, I’m a little drunk. This time, it’s 4.30am (fairly regular) and I’ve spent the entire evening with my flatmates (unreal). I’ve thought for quite a while (and by that, I mean an hour or two) about whether or not I’m going to tell my uni friends about this blog. As far as I know, none of them will find a link to it – if there’s one in a public place, let me know. So basically, it’s been my choice, either I tell them it exists; or I let it be a place where I can actually talk about the things that are interesting/exciting/bothering me, without the worry of someone getting offended.

I moved in on Saturday, it’s now Wednesday morning, technically. So the first day, I was terrified. I wish I could say I was just excited; but if I really think about it, the things I was excited about were learning what my new room was like, getting a key, and putting all my toiletries in place. Let’s be honest, all those things were exciting (except the last, where I discovered that every Thursday my bathroom has to be completely cleared for the cleaners); exactly as exciting as I thought and very very good. I moved in and I found a place that was my own, and it was refreshing and exciting and brilliant. Then there was the problem of making friends. The one person, Emily, who I met online, would not be here for a whole day. So the easy ‘I already know you’ conversation was out the window. I would have to start the real conversations; asking names and finding things out about each other.

The whole time, I was pretty nervous, in the bad way. I got crabby and irritated with my parents being around pretty quickly, because I wanted to unpack and people I vaguely knew were speaking to me online about QM (Queen Mary, University of London – I may as well elaborate, because I never have before and no one from here will ever read this) and all I wanted to do was empty my boxes and start properly living here. After the first night, I knew exactly how the flat would work. There was Mr and Mrs Cardiff – not an actual married couple, but seemingly so. Very lovely, but they had obviously chosen halls together, and even 4 days later, they are still fairly segregated. There were also a load of American people, who frankly scared me a bit, because they were obviously older. I had prepared myself to talk to freshers; people who were in the same boat as me, but these girls were international students – here for a semester, and completely not what I was expecting.

Turns out they are a lot of fun. Also in the group is Eve who seems like a massive air-head and the last sort of person I would choose to talk to; but there we go. I suppose I should count myself lucky that there’s only one of her in my flat. She likes to talk about how many people she’s screwed and how many parties she’s been to and what crazy stuff happened there. I couldn’t care less, and she doesn’t even say it in an interesting way, but it looks like I’m going to have to be her friend for a while, so I guess I’ll get used to it.

Susie is so fucked if her uni friends ever learn about this page. Seriously, if there’s any link to it anywhere online, please let her know, because she needs to get rid of it.

Finally in the flat, is Tom. His boyfriend helped him move in and stayed for a day or two. His 29 year old boyfriend, who is nowhere near good enough for him. Tom is facially alright but not desperately hot, but his body is wonderful. He walks sexy, he stands sexy, he even stirs pasta sexy. He’s my new gay best friend, and I’m so happy about it. Emily, my facebook friend and I, will watch him anyday. And the more drunk we all get, the more I am confessing to him that I love him a little bit. So far he has taken it as a compliment, so it’s all good. Emily (Brenda) and I look to be friends for a long time. We'e similar in all the good ways, I think. It's likely that we will be best friends for years. I've already told her about the situation with Ally, and she understands pretty well I think. She's already given me a nickname (Chelmsford, the town I went to school in, because she saw a sign for it and she thought I actually lived there), and it's sad how special it makes me feel, and how excited I am about being 'Chelmsford' for years.

Anyway, other than the rundown of my flatmates, I guess there are other things I could talk about. There’s a lot of talk about sex here. I’m surprised by how much it surprised me. As much as I knew that all-over-the-place sex was sort-of common-place these days, I think that was something I didn’t prepare myself for. Maybe it’s because they’re trying to impress each other, or maybe it’s because they’re actually that sex-crazed, it seems to be a hot topic of conversation at the moment. Eve seems to bring up the stories because we’ll think we’ll respect her for it; Emily seems to have had fairly similar experiences to me, except with the occasional screw; Tom seems a little more subtle about it, but it’s quite obvious he was a bit of a slut in the past. Ok, so sex stories don’t bother me, I’ll listen to them, I’ll talk about them. But at the end of the day, I’m a virgin, and I’m not ashamed of it. I think sex is for long term relationships (if not marriage) and generally, only harm comes from anything outside of that. The stories I’ve heard only confirm that feeling. I expect my flatmates have picked up that I’m not going to share any stories about a time I’ve fucked some guy and he’s completely ignored me in the morning; I hope they’ve realised that it’s because that kind of story doesn’t interest me, and because I wouldn’t ever get myself in that kind of situation.

Maybe it’s just tonight (and maybe the night before) that have been so sex-orientated. Maybe once we’re over this getting-to-know-each-other stage, it’ll die down a little. I’m not too bothered if it does or doesn’t, but if did surprise me how surprised I was by it. This is the 21st century, I feel like I should have expected it from new uni friends.

One of the American girls said that she was a virgin too, and a 19 year old. If all else fails it looks like it’s her I’ll be talking too. I wish that didn’t have to be the case.

Susie is yes, officially drunk. Vodka and then crappy wine make her more honest (apparently) and more willing to bother blogging. She has to wake up in 4 and a half hours, so this blog is so over.

Susie is taking it all in

2009-09-04T01:14:00.001+01:00

To be honest, today has been a little intense for me.

Granted, I started off doing very little indeed. I watched TV, I avoided the errands I had to run, I lay around, I ate shitty food for lunch. Then the post came; I had a letter from the Queen Mary drama department, where I’m going to be studying next year. It told me all the modules I would be sitting, what day and what time I would be sitting them. It was weird seeing my next two semesters written out like that. Knowing what I’ll actually be doing on a Monday morning 11-2 just made the whole uni idea that little bit more real. And frankly, I’m terrified by it. I mean, there’s some things I know I can do; in fact, there’s some things I know I’m good at. But I also know that compared to some people, in these things and so many others, I’m only average. I’m good, I’ve worked that out, but these people are very good, very very good, or brilliant and I’m not sure I’m going to match up to it. Unlike other subjects, where you can sit in a lecture hall with people many times better than you, and get by unnoticed; with drama, it is going to be painfully obvious that I am just not as good as the people around me. I can’t slide by at the back of the class pretending I’m up to everyone else’s standards, being the only one to see my terrible grades when they come back. When I stand up and try to act, everyone is going to realise that I’m not as good as them and I’m ‘that person’ in the class, who everyone hopes isn’t in their group because they’re going to require so much more work.

Beyond that, I’m not sure I’m confident enough to be in a drama class. The people I’m going to be sharing a subject with are at the very tops of all their classes in their schools. Very rarely will it be like CHS, where some randomers choose to take the subject on rather than the people who are clearly cut out to do it. These people will be the high scorers, the ‘loud ones’, the ones who make all the noise and all the decisions in a class, and push people like me aside and make people like me feel like we should be staying quiet. And it takes a pretty loud person to keep me quiet. But I’ll bet any money that I’ll go into these classes and barely say a word and fade into the background. I don’t think I quite have the balls to be the person I wish I could be in that kind of setting; not against these people. I guess that’s one thing I hope will change when I go away; that I will be the person I want to be rather than the person I have been for a long time.

Secondly, I went for my big Ikea shop. I bought all the things that I need to survive at university. Now, compared to the whole Drama Course Fiasco ^, living by myself is nothing; I’m genuinely not worried about it. I think I can look after myself well, cook for myself easily, and frankly I’m looking forward to having my own space. None the less, this did bring it home quite strongly. All of a sudden I was making decisions about how I was going to live for the next year, what cutlery I was going to be using and what pans I would be cooking in. It doesn’t seem like much, but it was really weird picking out these basic things that I’m going to be using daily. And it did hit me quite hard that this is actually happening – now I’ve bought the stuff, there’s pretty much no way out.

Lastly, was this evening. A small group of us went out to the pub, fairly uneventful; but tonight was the last time I will see one of my best friends for a long time. We’ve been through a lot, he and I, and I can’t quite believe we’re leaving. We talked about things we’ve never talked about, in ways we’ve never really talked before; and it was great just spending time with him – something which has been pretty scarce recently but that it turns out I’m going to miss enormously. We’ve known each other for a good five years now and we’ve been very close for three or four of them. Now I can’t quite believe how grown up we are, and I’m wondering if being so grown up means I have to be alright with all of this. I’m wondering if it’s too childish to want to hold on to all the good things and good people I have in my life, rather than taking the risk of finding new ones. I’m wondering if it’s too selfish to want to put my all into making new ‘best friends’, but still expecting my current ones to be there when I get back. I’m wondering if we’ll ever be able to keep what we have now, or if it’s just going to be lost.

Susie is fairly certain that if she was not a little drunk, she would never have written all of that. Perhaps that is the solution to her blogging infrequency.

Susie is officially uninvited

2009-08-29T19:08:00.003+01:00

Today it seems I’m sitting at home while my ‘best friends’ have a good time all together elsewhere. I never quite know how to react in situations like this. Every instinct I have makes me want to burst out in tears and beg them to let me join in; draw attention to myself and make them realise that it actually hurts me and I miss them. But no, I’m going to stay quiet and pretend I had something better to do than lying around watching tv. And when they tell stories about the fun they’ve had and look at me expecting me to join in and eventually realise ‘oh yeah, you weren’t there’; I’ll make a snide comment about how I wasn’t invited and then laugh as if I find it funny too.

Susie is well practised in this, can you tell?

I’ve been lying around for the last 8 hours hoping to fall asleep because I can’t really deal with the gnawing feeling of rejection I have in my stomach. And it’s annoying me how pathetic that all sounds, because I would hope that something so stupid would be simple to get rid of. No such luck.

Argh. I wish I could have come back to this blog with a cheerful post about how nice a holiday I've had, how brilliant results were, how excited I am about going to university next year. Turns out I feel no need to write about all that happy stuff, this really is just a place for me to complain.

Susie is even annoying herself - just leave.

Susie is properly grumpy

2009-07-01T21:56:00.002+01:00

Bad mood this evening. Just got back from a thoroughly unsuccessful shopping trip. I went with a good length of time, a good idea of what I wanted and a good amount of money. It was not a good trip. Could not find anything I liked in any of the shops, when I did find something it didn’t fit, and when I did find something that I liked and that fit, the queue was far too long to be worth it. I came back with one top, one pair of leggings and no more patience.

Last week was my first without any exams, and all I wanted to do was lie on the sofa, watch crappy tv, eat crappy food, take some naps and generally relax at last. None of this could happen because my mum was at home ‘ill’ all week, lying on the sofa where I wanted to lie, watching tv that I would never want to watch, and judging all the food I ate. As a result, I haven’t really had any time to get over exams and leaving school and everything, and I’m still feeling just as wound up as I was right in the midst of it all.

On top of this, I’ve hardly slept; it’s too hot; I’m not seeing Ally for another month and I miss him already; I haven’t got any of the things I need for all the holidays I was foolish enough to plan, and I just wrote an entire blog of complaints because they were too long to go on twitter and too pathetic to go on facebook.

Susie is bored of this.

---

The other day, someone in New York spent 20 minutes on my blog and haven't come back since. I'm starting to wonder if it's this sort of crap that put them off.

Susie is watching and waiting

2009-06-16T22:06:00.002+01:00

I don’t like the way things are at the moment. There’s a horrible uncertainty floating around about all sorts of things and I’m not very good at dealing with it.

These exams are more important than anything I’ve done before. They are what decides whether I get into the university I have my heart set on, or have the difficult decision of whether or not I’m willing to settle for my insurance choice. The next three years of my life are completely undecided and I have to keep stopping myself from planning them all out, because I know that will just make me even more devastated if my plans fall through.
Even in the short term - before all the test papers get sent off to stuffy examiners, and we sit around waiting for results day – the exams themselves are so uncertain. All of the papers I sit, I walk into thinking ‘this could go one of two ways: fine, or horrendously’ and I walk out not knowing much more. I don’t know if the revision I’ve done will be enough, I don’t know if I’ve even learnt it correctly, and all I can do is wait and see how the paper turns out.

Beyond all this crap that other people would call ‘exam stress’ are even more uncertainties that unsettle me even more. Things like whether or not friendships are going to stick. I was talking to someone the other day about needing to let go of old friendships, and look forward to new ones. I assured him that once he was surrounded by a new group of people who would mean just as much to him as his current friends do now; it would be all that much easier to be apart from those current friends. And suddenly all those friendships that I had built up to be strong and everlasting seemed a whole lot flimsier. As excited as I am about making new friends, and as sure as I am that once I have those new friends it will be infinitely easier to say goodbye to those I have now; I’m quite sure I don’t want to say goodbye to them.

On top of all this, are the stupid little uncertainties that when written down don’t seem like much, but having them all floating around my head is making me uneasy. I still don’t know how everyone is going to get to prom, nor do I have shoes, a bag, or a hair appointment. I don’t know how well any of my six holidays are going to work out. One isn’t organised yet; another we don’t know how we’re getting any food or whether we’re going to be able to tolerate each other for a whole week; I don’t know if I have enough money to afford any of them.

I think I’ve talked about this before. I do, I need consistency, I need certainty.

Susie is not getting a lot of that right now.

Susie is 18, and not subtle about it.

2009-06-01T22:42:00.002+01:00

I’ve been all over the shop today. Mood-swingamundo. Maybe I’m pregnant.

Susie is trying something a little bit new with today’s blog. A complete run-down of the day. It won’t stick, she promises.

11.15am – woke up fairly suddenly after a nightmare involving the Joker, craving some tuna mayonnaise. I was craving the tuna mayonnaise when I woke up, not the Joker in the dream.

11.16 – had a bath to fill the 39 minutes before the Gilmore Girls, also because I looked like some sort of greasemonster and there was a chance that Sam and I were going out for lunch, in public.

11.55 – watched Gilmore Girls and decided the tuna mayo craving was going to win over lunch with Sam. A gamble which paid off, because we never did go out for lunch and the tuna mayo was really good.

12.55 – started revision, but a little half-heartedly, in front of the tv.

13.55 – left the tv and started real revision in my bedroom.

13.56 – felt more frustrated with chemistry than I ever have in my life. As the last year has been passing by, I’ve known that I wasn’t learning as much as I needed to in chemistry. The unfortunate fact that one of my teachers was not only my form tutor and a lovely guy, but also an appalling teacher never did bode well. Today, one topic was just not clicking, and I couldn’t seem to find the notes to make it click; if I’m honest, that’s not the sort of thing that happens to me very often, I tend to get things at least in concept, and I didn’t like it.

14.15 – worked it out. Felt the unfamiliar feeling of success as a result of genuine hard work. I wonder if I’ll ever have a job that will actually encourage me to work really hard. Even this minor victory is making me think that it might actually be worth it.

15.30 – told myself I deserved a break from revision. Looked through my old computer for some music to listen to since I’ve lost my iPod and the laptop was downstairs with the cleaner, who I make it my business to avoid whenever she comes round. Found some classic tunes and was hit with various waves of nostalgia, quite nice really.

15.45 – found myself in tears. Every now and then I think about what’s going on at the moment, the idea of leaving school, leaving home, starting uni. I think I’ve come to terms with leaving school friends, because I’ve come to terms with leaving school and the two just come together. Today I thought about leaving Ally. For the past few years, I’ve seen him fairly consistently every week. How many times a week has varied certainly, but it’s been something that I’ve been able to rely on. But it hit me today that that’s all over; already. I knew we were going to have to leave, I knew we were only going to see each other in the holidays, I knew it was going to be hard to keep up the friendship we have. But I didn’t realise that it was all over already. We’ll barely see each other during exams, and then even less over the holidays, and after that we’re off. I thought about saying goodbye to him and I thought how much I’m going to miss him and yes, I cried. Pathetic? I think so.

17.30 – after a load more revision (although not as much as I had intended), decided I deserved to watch Friends.

21.00 – realised how happy I am to be leaving home. Somehow my family, my parents mainly, are capable of annoying me just by being. Everything they say to me seems to irritate me, everything they do. I’m just not sure I like them as people. I can’t decide whether that sounds typically teenagery, truly horrible or both.

22.00 – realised I hadn’t taken my iron tablet. Couldn’t find my iron tablets. Almost cried (again) I got that angry.

22.03 – found the iron tablets.

22.40 – So this is now. Mother has just walked into the room and decided to complain to me about her job. I think she knows that I don’t care, I think I know that I should, I certainly know that if I went into the reasons why I don’t care, I would seem like the nastiest daughter on the planet.

22.42 – Susie is going to bed.

Susie is in the doldrums

2009-05-28T22:00:00.005+01:00

To be honest, the main reason I am writing this is to get Zoë off my back, she is bored of the German, apparently. I suppose I would be too if I had to see it every day. Another reason I am writing this, is because I have recently realised that the whole theme of my blog is now stupid, since Facebook has decided to remove the ‘is’ from their status updates. Lo and behold, we can actually choose our own verbs now, an exciting development, for sure. But now anyone who never had the old Facebook will not get the subtle (intelligent and hilarious) joke and think that perhaps I am just so grammatically inept I have to pre-construct all my sentences. In the third person. Ohh the things I worry about.

---

I wrote that paragraph three days ago then gave up because mainly I got lazy, and also, I didn’t quite know how to word what it was that I think I wanted to say. In the time it’s taken me to get round to opening it up again, Raz has said everything for me. This isn’t the first time I feel like she’s taken the thoughts out of my head, but it’s the first time I’m going to copy and paste it in here, to save myself the effort.

'I feel a bit like I need to slap myself around the face for being so ridiculous. I've been sitting here for nearly a day and a half and I've hardly done any work whatsoever. In fact, I've [watched tv]. That and sitting on Facebook doing nothing. Why can't I do something? I feel absurdly lethargic, and (don't say it) lonely.
I'm not really sure where this is coming from, but it seemed to creep up on me without a whole heap of warning. I was at a party on Monday night, and yet all through yesterday and today I've had the awful feeling that I don't really have anyone around me.’

Perhaps the fact that the two of us feel exactly the same (ok, I can’t guarantee exact similarity, we are yet to actually talk about this) is a sign that the cause lies somewhere within exams, the end of school, this weird limbo we’re in where our purpose for the foreseeable future is just to pass exams. None the less, I’ve been lying around all week feeling sorry for myself because I’m bored and revision is hard, and the little contact I’ve had with people for some reason just isn’t enough for me. Frankly it annoyed me to read that actually I’m not special and this lethargy and grumpiness is nothing remarkable or attention-worthy either.

And even though I realise this, I have no doubt that I will go on feeling exactly the same. I’ve realised recently that I really need people; I need communication, I need hugs, I need company. I’m not sure I ever fully appreciate it when I have it, but I certainly feel it when I don’t. It’s sad for me to expect people to want to see me or talk to me, and it’s pathetic that it bothers me when it doesn’t seem that they do. I don’t know what I expect from people, surely I can’t want everyone I care about to text me just to see how I am or invite me out on a whim? Why the hell can’t I just be happy with what I have? It was my best friend’s birthday today, and instead of being content with the great time we had at his party and the text conversations and the fact I’ll see him in two days; I just sat around moping because today, I wasn’t with him.

The worst thing is, I know that I have no idea what real loneliness feels like. I have friends and I have plenty of time in the future to see them. All this is just an excuse because I don’t want to do revision, because it’s boring and properly important for once, and just too much like hard work.

Susie is betting that anyone with any brain would rather have just stuck with the german.

Susie is back, but brief.

2009-04-07T13:19:00.004+01:00

January 29th I last blogged here. What a waste of a website.

This worries me.
I’m not going to a monastery, and I’m not German. But I have a horrible feeling that this will be the outcome of my week at Spring Harvest. I guess if you’re really bothered, you’ll work out what it means.

Susie is putting down her pen and closing her booklet

2009-01-29T19:14:00.001Z

If there are two things I don’t like in a blog, they’re infrequent posting, and dull posts when they do finally come around. If there are two things I would say to describe my blog, they would be very much the same. It’s more than a month since I last wrote something here, and that wasn’t even worth reading; unfortunately frequent interesting posts rely somewhat on me frequently having something interesting to say.

The last month has sped by in a bit of a blur actually. Not a particularly enjoyable blur; teachers getting stressed and trying to pressurise us into being stressed as well, all culminating towards the exams which, fortunately, finished today. Sometimes I wish I took these things more seriously, rather than relying on luck and whatever natural intelligence I have to scrape me through. In the past it seems to have worked a treat and I don’t think that’s a good thing. By the time I’ve crammed as much as I can and looked over some papers, I tend to feel like there’s nothing more I can do or know; today I realised that actually there probably is – genuine, early revision. It’s a concept somewhat lost on me, I doubt I’ll ever really pick it up.

Even more unfortunately, this horrible mess of work, coursework (for some) and impending exams has completely ruled out any possibility of spending any real time with my friends. I’ve barely been to Ally’s house, which is usually my second home, and time that I usually love at school, during frees and lunch has all been overshadowed by that horrible feeling that we should all be somewhere else doing something more constructive.

Susie is aware that this month was nowhere near as bad as it will get, but is so relieved that it’s all over, at least for now.

Susie is contemplating blogging.

2008-12-23T22:54:00.000Z

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

2008-11-27T11:10:00.001Z

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

2008-11-16T19:54:00.002Z

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

2008-11-04T23:16:00.003Z

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

2008-09-26T21:43:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-07T18:29:00.002+01:00

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

2008-08-26T22:30:00.002+01:00

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.

---
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

2008-07-22T09:55:00.001+01:00

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

2008-07-16T15:17:00.001+01:00

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

2008-07-15T21:01:00.005+01:00

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

2008-07-08T22:54:00.002+01:00

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

2008-06-15T19:10:00.001+01:00

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

2008-06-07T17:18:00.002+01:00

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

2008-05-22T15:35:00.004+01:00

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

2008-05-16T10:46:00.000+01:00

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

2008-05-11T21:40:00.001+01:00

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

2008-05-05T15:53:00.005+01:00

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.

-----

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

2008-04-27T19:06:00.003+01:00

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.

-----

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

2008-04-17T22:18:00.004+01:00

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

2008-04-06T21:01:00.002+01:00

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

2008-03-19T22:36:00.002Z

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

2008-02-27T15:29:00.001Z

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.

~~~~~~~

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

2008-02-17T15:10:00.001Z

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

2008-02-13T22:27:00.001Z

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

2008-02-04T23:18:00.000Z

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.

2008-01-28T21:48:00.002Z

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

2008-01-16T20:08:00.000Z

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.

2008-01-10T20:08:00.000Z

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

2008-01-01T19:00:00.000Z

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.

Susie is regretting placing any importance in anything

2007-12-27T23:47:00.000Z

Don’t you just hate it when you really look forward to something, and long for something for absolutely ages; and then when it comes to it, it’s just an utter disappointment?

I love you. I really do. But you don’t make it easy do you.

Susie is consoled

2007-12-24T15:44:00.000Z

It doesn't take a genius to work out from reading this blog that I haven't been exactly happy recently. I find myself constantly dwelling on my unhappiness, and yet nothing really seems to happen about it. Even when I’m with people and enjoying myself, if I stop to think even for a moment, I’m reminded and convinced that I’m still not happy.

A lot of times, I’ve heard people trying to explain the idea of hearing God talk to you. As soon as anyone hears that that’s what is supposed to happen, I find they are discouraged by the fact they haven’t heard a booming voice, or seen an angel, or flicked open the Bible onto a random page, and looked straight at a verse that applies exactly to them. Personally, I’ve never really been bothered that I haven’t had those sorts of things. God and I have our own way of communicating, which I won’t go into. But today, I had one of those moments. And I’m still in a little shock from it.

Having spent a night at Fran’s and stayed up til the early hours of the morning, I was obviously tired, so I had a nap this afternoon. It wasn’t one of those deep naps where you are plunged into regular sleep, it was one of those naps where you’re never really sure if you’re awake or asleep. Thoughts were constantly in my head, and I had semi-dreams for a few hours. And as I lay there, a Bible verse literally popped into my head from nowhere; Philippians 1:19. I didn’t know where it came from, but every time I stirred a little, it popped into my head again, and I made sure that I remembered to look it up.

Some people believe in coincidences. I can’t. I find it horribly difficult to believe that a verse like this, popping into my head completely randomly, could be anything less than a message for me.

'Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my salvation.'

Things might not be so great at the moment, and I don’t really know why, but I think it’s pretty clear that God has it under control, and I can rejoice, because all this is working out for good in the end. Thanks God. You really are awesome.

Susie is hanging her head

2007-12-22T23:08:00.000Z

I’m one of those people who can’t stand when things aren’t said. If I like a guy, I’ll tell him; if I think someone needs cheering up, I’ll try; if I think someone needs a kick up the ass, I’ll give it to them. In general, I can’t stand when things are all secret, because secrets always get out and it always turns out wrong. But if things are immediately out in the open, then you don’t get the bitching and the bickering. It sound pretty hypocritical me saying this, because I do bitch quite a lot; but if something’s important enough, I’ll always talk to the person in question instead. The whole idea of tension and secrets really does irritate me, and I’ll sacrifice most friendships, I’ll sacrifice being liked by most people to ease tension among my friends or just in myself.

I’ve made an arse of myself so many times doing this, but I’ve always been glad I did it in the end. Things often go wrong, word gets out to all sorts of people I never thought it would, but it works out in the end. I’ve gotten so much closer to some people just by going ahead and bloody saying what I want to say; whether it’s how much I love them, how worried I am about them, or asking them a question that needs asking. I’m known for speaking my mind, and some people dislike it, other people respect me for being honest.

Today, I was blunt with someone. I finally said something which a few of us had been deliberating whether or not to say for ages. And it was horrible; being desperate to say it, knowing that it should be said, knowing that it could potentially make someone happier.

This time, there was a lot riding on it; by sharing this, I was possibly sacrificing one of the few relationships I have that is truly precious to me. And it pretty much blew up in my face. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it; perhaps I was overstepping the mark this time. So far, things aren’t looking up, and I am worried that I might have ruined this for a very long time.

Susie is quite probably about to cry.

I don’t know whether I regret saying this one or not. I think I more regret just being the person I am. I regret being the person that ends up in arguments. I regret being the only person who has the balls to say what needs saying. I regret not being kind and conscientious enough to know when to keep my mouth shut instead. I regret not caring what other people think of me, to the extent that I'll just do anything and cope with the consequences.

I regret that it's always me that comes out as the bad guy. Almost all my friends would rather keep this kind of thing to themselves. I have no idea how they cope with that. But they’re bloody lucky they don’t have to cope with this.

I've fucked up, I know. I just wish that I could make this better.

Susie is so sorry.

Susie is letting her little light shine

2007-12-16T22:40:00.000Z

'No one lights a lamp and hides it in a jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, he puts it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light.'
Luke 8:16

We had a children’s talk based on that verse today. By good ol’ Barbara Clark, who insists on bringing her fairly irritating son up to assist her every time she does one. Today was no exception; however, it was slightly different, in that today I didn’t completely zone out and start thinking about anything other than the talk. She was ‘demonstrating’ the verse - as is always done to marvellous effect in a children’s talk – with a candle, which was supposedly some sort of heirloom, with a nice picture of the nativity on it. It was quite obvious that it had never really been lit and was never going to be. But she ‘decided she was going to light it’, and Theo (son) did, then she quickly covered it up with a jar, saying about how she wanted to protect it and keep it safe and the such. Obviously when she lifted the jar up, the candle had gone out because it had run out of oxygen (which Theo proceeded to explain to us and was met with gasps of amazement at such insane intelligence from a 10 year old. Whatever.). Anyway, even though she went on to talk about shining your light for everyone to see and not hiding it away; it was actually this ‘scientific revelation’ which got me thinking.

The verse talks about allowing our ‘light’ to shine out, letting others see that we have God in our hearts, and not being embarrassed or ashamed to let people know. We should not put it in a jar or under a bed, because then no one will be able to see it. But actually, in practise, it turns out there’s another, more scary reason not to hide the candle/lamp in a jar: because eventually, it goes out. I think there’s a pretty powerful warning in there, that if we keep our faiths to ourselves, if we refuse to share it, if we don’t let it ‘shine out’, then eventually it will just burn out. A faith won’t fuel itself, it needs more than just the wick of ourselves and the initial spark of the holy spirit, it needs oxygen, stimulation, fellowship, worship. In no way am I saying that God is finite, or will change or will ever leave us. But it doesn’t take a genius to realise that we are capable of moving away from Him. We can change; we can hide our faith away and starve ourselves so much of what we need, that eventually we allow our faith to simply burn out.

Susie is beginning to wish she hadn’t given up English, so she’d be able to write a little more coherently.

Susie is smiling

2007-12-12T21:18:00.000Z

Tonight was the final performance for Living With Lady Macbeth, the play that my drama class decided to put on because we love acting just a little bit too much. And it actually went really well. I screwed up some lines and missed some bits out, but I don’t even care. The audience didn’t notice, and everyone said it was great, and that’s all I could ever ask for.

One thing I’ve realised from this is just how very much I love performing. I noticed it after the anniversary supper, with ‘Soul Sisters’; it genuinely makes me happy. So many people dread standing up in front of people, they struggle to be out there and confident and the thought of acting scares upsets them. But what has been made so clear is that I’m such the opposite of that. Being on stage, making people laugh, giving people enjoyment, being someone else for once, is what really does make me happy. I don’t know if it’s just the adrenaline or the endorphins or what, but how I feel now, an hour after the performance has finished, is infinitely better than I’ve felt in a long time.

I wish there was some way I could do this forever. I wish I could change all my plans, switch to acting and actually have a hope in hell of getting anywhere with it.

Susie is going to stop wishing, and start enjoying her brief, but very welcome happiness.

Susie is pissed off.

2007-12-10T21:01:00.000Z

Today has just put me in a really bad mood. That’s a lie. This evening has just put me in a really bad mood. About 2 years ago I started helping out at XS, and when Ruth and Lizzie started hating it, I really didn’t understand why, because I loved it. But now, I dread every single Monday; it pisses me off, upsets me, and just always puts me in moods like this. The girls are at horrible ages where they start complaining and being mouthy and taking the piss, and I know that I can’t do anything, because the slightest thing I do I’ll get complaints about. I can’t shout at them, I can’t swear at them, I can’t put them in detention or stop them doing the stuff they want to, because I don’t actually have the authority for something like that.

That’s the thing with this place you see, they’re not friendly with me, because I’m a leader, but they don’t respect me, because I’m not a teacher. They reckon that because they’re not at school, they can do whatever the hell they like and I can’t do anything about it. And they’re right, I can’t do anything. And it bloody annoys me.

And it annoys me how stupid parents are. As soon as their little darling comes into the world, they suddenly can’t do anything wrong; their word is truth. And it’s a load of bull. Because then you get kids going home and complaining to their mummies about stuff that never fucking happened, getting attention for it and just making my life difficult.

And they have no right to make my life difficult. I don’t do this for money, I don’t do this for the thanks, I sure as hell don’t do it because I enjoy it. It takes up my time, which frankly, I could be using for much better things right in the middle of my ASs. It takes up my energy; and it really fucking grates on me. Why the hell should I have to come home every Monday night in a foul mood because some shitty child has pissed me off? Why should I have to drag my arse back to that place every week just to hate another hour and a half? Why should I have to get condescending looks from leaders and no thanks from any parent or child; when at the end of the day, I’m fucking good at what I do there, because people come in and tell me so. Why should I have to begin to hate most bloody children, just because I’ve been landed with a shitty bunch? The only reason I have to cope with them is because if I quit, and God knows how tempted I am to quit right now, they wouldn’t be able to run the fucking club. Because I bring 50% of all the leaders: me, and my friends who are willing to do it just because it would help me out.

Is it selfish for me to want some recognition for what I do there? Is it selfish for me to want to shout in the faces of every gullible mother and every attention-seeking child? Is it selfish for me to think that this couldn’t possibly be worth a sentence or two in my personal statement? Is it selfish for me to think that absolutely fucking nothing is worth me feeling this shit over?

Susie is sure that if she could screw the lot of them and enjoy her life instead, she would.

Susie is no good at the important things

2007-11-30T21:18:00.000Z

I've realised over the last little while just how bad I am at being a person. People talk about being a good person, and so many people try. But I think before I start trying to be a good person, I should try and sort out some of the basics, that it seems like everyone is able to pick up apart from me.

I'm bad at enjoying myself. I'm bad at liking people, no matter how nice they are. I'm bad at being patient with those people I don't like, which somehow ends up being the majority. I'm bad at trying, bad at putting effort into things, whether for someone elses benefit or indeed my own. I'm bad at staying calm. I'm bad at controlling myself. I'm bad at not being selfish. I'm bad at being grateful for everything that I have. And I'm bad at loving the right people the right amount.

Susie is not just feeling sorry for herself. Susie is seriously in need of some change.

Susie is not worth it

2007-11-09T19:14:00.000Z

It seems that I've quite happily neglected this blog as much as I did my old one. I’m not sure why I bothered making this new one anyway. Today in German Frau Chaudhri was talking about people who plan to do things and think and remember and sort things out in their heads, but never actually get round to doing them. I guess I’m one of those people. I’ve actually had quite a lot to say over the last little while; I’ve half written blogs and then not bothered posting them, then thought about it days later when it’s no longer relevant. I guess I’m just not reliable enough for this sort of thing; never quite motivated enough, even to do something which is purely for my own good and enjoyment.

Susie is never going to get anywhere in life unless she stops being so damn lazy.

I was thinking the other day, as I was walking home on my own, about whether or not I’m actually happy. I mean, when I’m with people, I have a good laugh, I enjoy their company, and all that jazz. But when it’s just me, and I get to thinking, and I don’t have anything to laugh about – I really do find it difficult to find anything to be happy about.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m unhappy; there’s nothing I can think of which makes me particularly displeased with my life – well, in any meaningful capacity anyway. But at the same time, I’m not sure there’s anything which I can think about and know that it makes me happy.

The other day a few of us went to Zoë’s; we all sat around the table and played 21 truths (only for part of the day, that’s not all we did) – it was good fun. Raz got the question ‘what one thing in your life makes you the most happy/you are most happy about/thankful for’ something along those lines. She quite instantly said Max, and it was clear that everyone else was thinking about their answers. And I honestly couldn’t think of anything. Had I been asked the question, I think I would have lied and said ‘my friends’. Obviously, I love my friends to pieces, they make me feel secure, and loved, and I’m glad I have them. But I don’t know if just the knowledge of having them actually makes me happy.

Susie is not sure what happy really means anymore.

Who knows, maybe happiness isn’t about having certain things which make you happy. Maybe just the lack of unhappy things is enough to constitute happiness, perhaps this vague indifference I feel at the moment is what people refer to when they say they are truly happy with their lives.
Maybe I’ll never find anything which will make me ‘truly happy’ anyway, and merely contented will be what I have to live with.

Writing this has annoyed me, because it’s made me sound and feel like a bit of an emo. I know that my life isn’t bad my any means. But sometimes, I just think it must surely be my turn for something truly wonderful to come along, that I will know makes me happy.

Susie is self-discovering

2007-09-28T19:04:00.000+01:00

While I was on holiday, I borrowed some books of Ami’s to read. Being Ami’s, they were generally autobiographical, and in most cases, involved self-harm as a pretty prominent theme. Granted, by the end of the holiday I realised what a stupid idea it was to read so many books on the subject; but there was one book ‘Skin Game’ by Caroline Kettlewell, that hit so close to home that it genuinely stunned me. If I’m honest I really didn’t enjoy the book, it was pretty dull and seemed a little pointless, but certain sections, I swear could have been written by me, they are so accurate to my life. And what’s more, they were thing’s I’d never really found words for or understood myself. So I wrote them down, and now I'm going to write them in here.

Susie is aware that is very long and some of it is pretty strange.

‘I wasn’t one of the popular girls; I wasn’t one of the outcasts either. I had always occupied the shifting territory of the middle ground, sunk low by my hopeless ineptitude at all sports involving a ball, raised up by my standing as one of the smart kids. I slid by on smart. I got by on last minute efforts – and what’s worse, I knew I could’

‘My sister, two years older had served as the measure by which my own inadequacies were perpetually thrown into relief. She was better at board games, better at drawing and painting and projects, more musical, more popular and, of course, smarter.
“Oh, you’re Julia’s little sister” her former teachers would say to me the first day I entered their classes at the beginning of a school year, and though I felt a swelling of prove by association, I could already see how there was no hope of proving adequate to all the expectations implied by that statement’

‘The plain fact of it was that I was miserable, I knew how I felt, but I couldn’t come up with a good enough reason why I should feel that way. I believed unhappiness was something you had to earn through a suitable measure of suffering. And what had I ever suffered? Not one damn thing.’

‘I’ll admit that suffering, or rather, the dramatic interest of being One Who Suffered, appealed to me. What I was feeling, anyway – it wasn’t nearly interesting enough to be true and tragic unhappiness. It felt neither romantic nor poetic, but rather grinding and unpleasant. I was highly suspicious of it, thinking it might, after all, be nothing more than a self-indulgent pettishness.
My situation appeared to me like the continuous twisting loop of a Möbius strip: I wanted to be tragic in order to justify simply being unhappy, but knowing that I wanted to be tragic made me the very legitimacy of the unhappiness’

‘“Why were you cutting yourself?” Mrs Warren asked. I did know, but what I knew, I couldn’t explain. I wanted to cut for the cut itself. Imagining the sticky-slick scarlet trails of my own blood soothed me.’

‘I can offer you my little penny-ante repertoire of teenage troubles. Collectively or individually, however, do they constitute sufficient grounds for taking up self-mutilation? Even as I set forth these explanations I want to withdraw them again. I think what I thought when I was twelve and thirteen and fifteen and twenty: None of these is reason enough; none of these is legitimate cause. Well, how many troubles should equal a legitimate reason for self-mutilation? Ten? Twenty? 100? And how monumental must these troubles be?
We’re always looking for a logical explanation, but some things are too complicated to reduce to a simple equation of why/because. Maybe what drove me to cut doesn’t have any cause I can name.’

‘You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I’d crossed that line the first time, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. It didn’t take much to make me cut. Frustration, humiliation, insecurity, guilt, remorse, loneliness’

‘My scars ought to be a charm bracelet of memories, each a permanent reminder of it’s precipitation event, but maybe the most disturbing thing I can say about my history of cutting is that for the most part I cant even remember the whens and whys behind the wounds.’

I think I’d never have the bravery to actually write something like that where it would be my own words. I’ve always tried to justify my self-harm with psychological and meaningful reasons, to others and to myself; in the hope that they will somehow make it less stupid. If anything this book has made me face up to the fact that I actually have/had no real groundings or reasons for cutting; that any I do find are either fabricated or so thin that they’re bordering on emo.

But somehow reading these reasons from somebody else, in itself, justifies them to me. If anyone else was to say to me that they thought they were the only person that felt a certain way, I would tell them so shut up, because of course someone else does. But a lot of the time, I think I honestly thought that. Because everyone else I had known to self harm had a ‘serious problem with it’, and I did not. It was unusual, and perversely comforting to find that someone else in the world had as minor and worthless excuses for cutting as I had.

But then appears the question, ‘how many troubles should equal a legitimate reason for self-mutilation?’ – what defence is good enough? When can someone be excused for it, and when will the argument just not stand? Why is it that those with some other ‘serious’ issue are forgiven for self harming where as others without these side issues are looked down on for it?

At one time, I think I was told that I did not have an actual, serious problem with self harm. And from that moment onwards I believed it - that I was not a ‘true’ self-injurer; until I could give a reason for it that others could not dispute. Sometimes that was what caused me to do it; by cutting deeper and more times, I could prove to myself that I did have a genuine problem.

No-body knows the full story of my self-harm, there have always been time’s I’ve done it and told no one; and no one knows how imminent a problem it is for me. It’s taken me three years to work out that it’s a problem, regardless of how mitigating my reasons may or may not be.

Susie is well excited

2007-09-03T10:55:00.000+01:00

It's probably strange how very much I'm looking forward to going back to school tomorrow. Normally I'm as gutted as everyone else, even seeing my friends isn't that big an incentive because I’ve seen them so much over the summer. But this year, I’m going into sixth form.

Susie is a big girl now.

I don’t really know how different it’s going to be from the last 5 years at CHS, but I think it’s going to be good. I’m looking forward to only doing subjects I actually want to do (there’s General Studies and P.E. I suppose, but who actually goes to them anyway?); I’m looking forward to having new people in my form and classes, and potentially new friends; I’m looking forward to having frees; I’m looking forward to being better friends with me teachers; I’m looking forward to being in non uniform, even with all the silly rules that have come in; I’m looking forward to pushing in front of small people in the dinner queue, and not having to go to assembly. But most of all, I’m looking forward to the opportunities I’m going to have with my friends. The people I spend my time with over the next two years are going to be the people end up staying in touch with into uni and later life, and I honestly don’t know who it’s going to be.

As much as I love having a huge group of friends who all (on the surface anyway) get on with one another and meet up in huge numbers; what really makes me happy are individual relationships with one or two people - friendships where each provides something special for the other which other friends do not. It sounds really selfish to say that, I think, it sounds like I just want more attention for me, I want to be liked more; but I actually think humans were designed to desire that kind of relationship. After all, without such desires, why would we choose to have boyfriends and girlfriends, and ultimately spouses? Granted, other animals choose life partners, less out of love than for the continuation of the species; but biology and procreation doesn’t explain why we have ‘best friends’, why we bond so closely to one particular person. It’s not that I want to have loads of ‘best friends’, but it’s that kind of thing that I think I’m missing: A mutual respect and love which is not necessarily greater than that for other friends, but is unique to that relationship.

Susie is probably too soppy.

Next year, it is my intention to build those kinds of relationships with people; to set routines which are never broken and hopefully, love even more those people who I love so much already.

Susie is just getting started

2007-07-27T14:35:00.000+01:00

So my suitcase is sitting on my bed waiting to be filled with all the new clothes I bought for my holiday in Italy, which starts at 4 tomorrow morning. And I decide to start a new blog, because I could be the queen of the procrastination society, if only I didn’t stop putting off inventing one. I had a nice online diary for about 2 years, until eventually I got bored of it, and now I think the site has shut down. So I fancied a fresh start, at least in the blogging sense.

No doubt you’ll have seen the ‘status’ features on Myspace and Facebook, frustratingly grammatically inflexible applications that allow you to declare what you are thinking or doing, as long as you do so finishing the sentence ‘(your name) is…’. It was when I was wandering around lakeside the other day and I realised that I now actually think in sentences like this that I found my inspiration for this blog title etc.

Susie is a bit of a loon, clearly.

If the posts in this blog are anything like my old one, they may be very boring, and will certainly be full of teenage angst and ramblings. I only have 3 more years to be a teenager; I intend to make the most of them. Along the way there may also be theological musings, and perhaps the odd picture or something, I make sense and say interesting things too, sometimes. Feel free to subscribe :)

Obviously, I wont be posting anything in the next 2 weeks, because I’ll be up some mud-track in a fantastically isolated Italian villa, swimming in my private pool and having no contact with any one or any computer. But I’m sure I’ll be writing when I’m out there, so that’s something to look forward to.

Susie is going to start packing now.