Where The Lost Things Are.

Have you ever put two socks in the washing machine and, on going to collect your clothes, found that one of them has vanished into thin air? No matter how many times you search the machine or shake out your wet clothes, eventually you have to accept the fact that the sock is gone, and that it probably won't be coming back. Is there an explanation for this? Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. The point is that lots of things are lost; they disappear without a trace, never to return. These things that disappear, where do they go?

I've developed a habit of losing things on a daily basis, the thing I lose most of all without a doubt is my keys. I've found them in every place possible: on top of the wardrobe, down the back of the bed, in the fridge, in the sink. Losing my keys is the least of my worries right now, though. I'm more concerned with losing the bigger things: the list of things I need to learn for my English Language exam, the ink cartridges for my two favourite pens, my phone, the USB stick with my coursework on it, my mind, the ability to pull that smile from someone who means the world to me. Things like the final one in that list, those are the things that are worth searching for and retrieving if possible.

I like to think that there's a place where all the lost things gather. Similiar to the place Cecelia Ahern describes in her novel "A Place Called Here", where all the missing and forgotten things exist, gathered together hoping to be found. People, keys, odd socks and too many pieces of paper to count, all there waiting for me to track them down. With them now are memories that I always thought would be worth holding onto, a day where things far beyond my imagination occured and gave me more false hope than any person should ever have to face. The point is that the memories of the feel of arms around me, of a face aganst mine, of breath against my ear, against my neck, are fading fast, readying themselves to flee and join the things I have already lost and forgotten.

The Curse of Curves.

Is there such a thing? I really don't think so. It's a body shape that can at times but more than a little difficult to dress and there are limits on the clothes that you can wear, but if I'm completely honest, I wouldn't want my body to look any other way.

It's the classic pin-up shape. Small waist, boobs and bum. It's classic, it's sexy and in no way should it ever be seen as a problem. The wish to be thin, straight up and down, was one that stuck with me through most of my early teens but now, as I get older, I see the advantage of looking how I do. There are far too many women who made, and still make, it okay to not be the desperately sought after thin shape that, for far too many girls, is not realistic. Women, like Marilyn Monroe. She died in 1963, and yet her image still graces the walls of many people, myself included. She was full of all of the qualities that could be admired in a person, and after spending many an hour reading books and articles about her, and browsing many pictures of her, I came to realise that the way she felt about her body she be embraced the world over: love what you've got.

“The body is meant to be seen, not all covered up.”

With all things physical, I realise that it most certainly comes down to individual taste and preference, but I am beginning to lose count of the times I have heard that curves are the best things to have, by both male and female friends. The saying "more to hold on to" has been uttered a few times, too. And I've come to find that there is nothing better than accepting your body and, even more than that, being able to embrace it and be willing to highlight your assests and just becoming comfortable in who you are. After all, how can you expect anyone else to see you in a positive light if you can't even do that for yourself? I don't think I'm perfect -far from it. I can still stand in front of the mirror and pick out a flaw or ten, but that is something that will never go away. What's important is accepting it and realising that for every negative, there will always be a positive.

There is nothing wrong with not being tiny. Nothing at all, I know it now and I love that I've learnt this lesson and that I'm happy with who I am. And I know that I am not the only person who appreciates the classic shape, and shopping has become a much more pleasant task since I've become more willing to experiment with colours and patterns, etc. It's a body shape admired the world over. There's a reason that Jessica Rabbit manages to grace the list of sexiest women, despite being a cartoon.

Take a guess why that might be...

"Honest To God, I Will Break Your Heart. Tear You To Pieces, And Rip You Apart."*

After thinking about it for a few hours today, I have come to the conclusion that people should come with health warnings, in the same way that alcohol, cigarettes and various other potentially life-threatening substances do. Imagine the time that could be saved if someone came with the label 'Will Screw You Over' already attached. I know, we should all believe in the exception and the idea that people can change, but let's be honest, how many times have you known that to happen? I'm pretty sure the answer will be small enough to count on one hand, if a number even exists. I sound ridiculously cynical right now, but a quote I heard on a TV show (Samantha Who?, in fact, which I always found rather entertaining, has stuck with me ever since I heard it for the first time):

"People cannot change. If people could change, would you be you?"

Personal opinion? Good point well made. Let's be honest: we all have things about us that we think we should change. Not physical changes, I'm talking about the person that we are at our very core, that thing that really cannot be changed with intent. There are too many outside factors for us to be able to decide how we are for us to be able to get involved and attempt to control it, and so we should just accept it, and let people know upfront about the intentions we have.

I think about a bag of peanuts, which I think carries the best health warning ever written: "May Contain Nuts". Then I think about someone who has the ability to make me feel like I'm flying and then crashing to the ground within two seconds, and I've decided that their particular health warning should read as follows: "May Contain The Inability To Make A Decision Or Give A Straight Answer, Followed By Potential To Break Your Heart."

Long, yes, but to the point.

* A quick explanation of the title: Ever since it's release, I have been far too obsessed with 30 Seconds to Mars' album, This Is War. A band I have loved for a very long time, I was extremely impressed with the songs and decided that it had definitely been worth the wait. As much as I loved 'A Beautiful Lie', there was something about the new album that just took my breath away. Most of the tracks have hit the 'Most Played' list on my Zen and it is almost always on in the background as I revise. Seeing them live without a doubt made my year, and not just because I was two inches from Jared Leto as he ran through the crowd singing 'The Kill'. The lyrics on the album are simply incredible, especially those from 'Night Of The Hunter' which I have used as my title. They sum up my feelings right now perfectly.

Red Nails and Heels.

I don't wear much make-up. I don't like it. I've got no objections to other people wearing it, but I neglect to see the point in painting up your face to the point where you are no longer recognisable. The make-up I do wear is limited to lip-gloss and nail varnish: at the moment, red is my particular favourite. Special occasions are an exception; at the point, I am most likely ro apply eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow. I don't see the need to make myself stand out in an obvious way. The idea of being too obvious turns me off in so many ways.

Some people are naturally eccentric, I except that. The Boy is no exception to this. I've never met any quite like him, he naturally is far and beyond everything that can be considered normal, but not in a way that demands attention and the spotlight. He just is. It's a shame that the same can't be said for some other people that I've met recently. I've come into contact with more and more people, from all walks of life and with different ideas about life, the way to act, even fashion, and it sickens me when I see falseness amplified for the sake of attention. It makes me want to scream. But at the same time it must be nice for some people to live in their own heads, to think that they're the Midlands' answer to Marilyn Monroe or Edie Sedgwick, or one of those other women who simply SCREAMED originality and beauty.

Red nails and high heels - right now these are my two favourite things and I think that's okay. You don't always need to stand out and have the whole world looking at you. You may like all eyes on you but as soon as they turn away, the words they're saying aren't things you want to hear. Your so-called amazingness gets lost in ridicule as people comment on how awful you look, how unoriginal you really are and how you seem fake. It's a shame, underneath it all you may be a lovely person (on the other hand, maybe not. All evidence points to you being a bitch of epic proportions) but you're not giving yourself a chance. I have many a friend who can be called one of a kind, and it's not just because they don't try, it's because they don't care. Can you say the same?!?!

(I apologise for this rant. It may seem a little OTT, but this has taken four attempts to make it seem like I'm not insane, and that I don't just attack people for no reason.)

One final thing: you're good, darling, I'll give you that. But you forgot something...I'm better.

An Hour To Go

Time goes really quickly. It's something people have always said to me, that as you get older time moves quickly, and I never believed them. I've been proved wrong. I cannot believe that tomorrow is my 19th birthday. So much has happened since I turned 18: I've moved away from home, started university, made friends I know I will keep for life, gained confidence I never thought I would find and realised the person I truly am, and the person I want to become.

Here are a few things I've learnt in the past year:

- If you work hard enough, you can do anything. All the things your parents and teachers tell you about being able to do whatever you want is true. You just need to believe in yourself and be willing to put in the work. Life does not hand you things on a plate, and it feels so much better to get something that you've earned.

- Boys are completely foreign creatures. In fact, sometimes I do believe they come from another planet. They can bounce from one mood to another, hot to cold, in a matter of seconds and leave your head spinning. Then they do something amazing, give you butterflies to the point of giddiness, and make you fall for them all over again.

-As a continuation from above, although people would argue otherwise romance is NOT dead. (I'm not talking about cliche, mass produced romance; I'm talking about the personal kind of romance that really means something.)

- When you're having fun, time slips away, and so you must make the most of every moment.

- Photographs are one of the best inventions EVER. They document everything and you get the opportunity to remember all the good times that sometimes fall out of your head. As well as photographs, diarys, notebooks and blogs are amazing. Documenting your life, especially the important things, is something that you will appreciate. It's amazing to go back and remember every little detail.

- The people you think you can't live without slip away and it's frightening to realise that your life can go on without them.

- The people who stay in your life when you move on are the people you least expect. They may be few, but they will be all the more precious because they are some of the last links you have to home and the past.

- You don't need to talk to someone everyday for your friendship to work. As long as you know that person is there, and that they love you and will always be there for you, any time, no matter what, then your friendship is safe.

- You never forget home: the places or the people. But you will go home after three months and find so many new shops and changes in the town centre that you will feel a little confused.

- Being pushy and annoying can be effective. Be careful not to cross the line into 'insane territory' but don't give up. Patience is a virture, and eventually there is a good chance that you will get what you want.


Personally, I feel I've made progess this last year. :)

A Penguin Leading A Camel In The Desert.

Everyone's had that moment, the moment where you realise that you acted without thinking and that maybe you should have taken a moment to think about what you were doing. I'm not talking about regrets; I'm talking about the moment when your brain kicks into action, hours or even days too late.

We're all guilty of acting on instinct, of letting our emotions and heart guide us, rather than listening to the logical reasoning of the brain. After all, sometimes there's no time to go through the ifs and buts and it's just a lot easier to take notice of your heart and do what feels right. It's the age-old dilemma of head or heart?

Sometimes things don't make sense. That's the whole point of life. To learn, to make sense of the things we don't know, and to take the experience that we gain with us when we move on to the next stages of our lives. And at the same time, there's no need to be serious. Even the good things, the people we love and the things that make us laugh, don't have to make sense. The title of this blog comes from a conversation I had not even half an hour ago while looking at a friend's holiday pictures. It makes no sense, it made us laugh and for a moment we were happy. And that's the most important thing. Act on what will make you happy. Do something if you know that if you don't you'll spend forever wonderng. After all, there's nothing stopping you. If it's a mistake you'll learn, if it's not you could find opportunities that you didn't even know existed. Let nothing stop you from doing the things that make you smile. Even if one day the choices you made make you said, remember how you felt at the time. Remember the smile that wouldn't leave, the daze of contentment and the excited butterflies.

It was worth it.

The day you lose the ability to smile is the day you lose the ability to live.

Election Night Party.

Downstairs, it's still going on strong. I knew it was important but there was no way I could have predicted the mass hysteria that has swept halls. The JCR is full of screaming people, far too many of which do not even live in this hall, and there seems to be nothing that comes on screen that doesn't warrant some kind of yelling. It's loud, to say the least. And people are becoming more and more agitated. The drinking game seems to have finished far before the results came in. The number of people hanging around has dwindled as time slips later into the early hours. At this moment in time the total in the corner says Conservatives: 161, Labour: 127 and Lib Dem: 24. It was exciting today, voting for the first time and sitting and watching the outrage at the amount of votes that the BNP received. But now it's late, I want my bed, and I wish those screaming Conservatives would go home.

Pure Procrastination.

It's happened again. That time of year is finally upon us; that glorious season of unpredicatable mood-swings, excessive energy drink consumption and sleeping patterns that will eventually lead to some kind of breakdown. Say hello to exam period. We hate it, we dread it, we promise will prepare for it and come to panic when it arrives. Deadlines are fast approaching and, even though there's time to spare, people are beginning to act like the May 17th is the official date of the apocalyspe. I'm guilty of far too many exam stress habits, the worst being the promise of "I'll start it tomorrow."

Coming back to halls was just the mix of excitement and misery that I expected it to be. I'm missing everyone from back home but the catch-ups with everyone from uni have been great. Today, I went to collect mark from my last essay and started to choose modules for next year and, while these things sound important, they're just ways of putting off the more important things that need doing. The most committed I've been to anything since I've been back was the task of painting my nails red; a task that was a waste of time in the end because it chipped not even half an hour after it was done. My priorities are all wrong right now: I'm more concerned with the formal next Tuesday and all the things that come with that than I am with the assignment deadline that falls two days later.

In an attempt to motivate myself, I went to see what a friend was doing tonight. The visit was not the flying five minute trip I intended, as more friends arrived and it turned into a discussion on deadlines, followed by a conversation about blogs and the different things that people write about, and the reasons why they write at all. I'm writing right now to avoid doing anything else, which isn't the best reason in the world. The truth is, I'm comfortable, curled up against my many pillows with a tube of Pringles and a latte mug full of blackcurrant squash. I'm a mess. I need to adopt the student cliche and I need to sort my life out, but I just can't be bothered. I'm more concerned with the fact that my internet needs refreshing every five minutes, something which I'm sure the tech staff are behind in an attempt to keep us all off Facebook.

I've accepted that I'm not going to do anything tonight and I have found a way to justify this: if the internet is only going to work in five minute bursts, I can't do the work I need to. It's not even possible to conceive of doing anything without the aid of Google, let alone the promise of some kind of social networking as a distraction when it all becomes a bit much ten fifeen minutes after I get started.