The Day I Failed at Revision (again)

3.30am last night found me sat on my own on the Downs, staring up at the moon and feeling sorry for myself. Luckily Jack came to rescue me, and then had to put up with my emo whinging, for which I can only apologise. The basic jist of this whinging, for anyone out there who is in the least bit interested, was that I worry that I'm never going to be content with anything, because for some stupid reason I never appreciate the good things I have, and find myself seeking out things that are a bit more risky, rather than what I know will make me happy. It's as if my mind works out the course of action that will logically result in the greatest happiness, mulls it over for a while, then thinks "nahhh, that's way too easy". I also seem incapable of learning from past mistakes. But enough of that.

I woke up today feeling sick and hungover, and it has pretty much only just worn off. Alcohol is the work of the devil, I tell you. It also led to me asking a barmaid if she would sleep with the guy standing next to me, because he told me that he was hoping if he waited around long enough then she would. Oh dear. Plus I'm a bit worried about my heart, it keeps beating really quickly for no reason, and both last night and when we were at Ramshackle last week I had to go sit down for a while because I felt like I was having palpitations.

I feel like I should put something happy and cheerful now to make up for all the moaning. I made spaghetti bolognaise, and it was tasty... Also Laura Marling is well good.

The Day Jim Went Home

So yesterday was the supposed day of my 19th boat party - but it decided to piss it down with rain, so instead I just went to the Treaty with Dan and Jim to watch Colour Me Wednesday play a gig. They're so much tighter as a band now than when I was with them. I'd like to think that isn't purely due to me leaving the band, but that could be the truth. I really need to start playing guitar/bass again, it's such a good skill to have, and fun of course. There's so many things I need to start doing really, like exercise and eating well and revision and just being more productive and purposeful. I spend 50% of my time in bed, which isn't conducive to me achieving anything with my life. Dan was saying yesterday that he feels like life is passing him by and he's not doing anything with it - I'm feeling rather similar, although perhaps not so much that I'm not doing anything, just that I should really change the things I'm doing. Next term I'm going to try and streamline my life. Feel free to place bets on how soon I fail.

Oh dear, too many things have happened since I last wrote a blog that I can't decide which are interesting enough for me to write about. I went to stay at Jim's for 5 days last week, which was rather lovely - we went hill walking and cycling and things (which is probably what has motivated me to do more exercise, I almost died walking up the hill); and his mum is very nice and cooked tasty vegetarian meals! Then it was my birthday on the Wednesday, and I went to Camden with Rachel, Louiza and Sara, which was pretty cool, havent been there for a while, and it's always good to spend time with them peepz. Then went for a meal with my mum and Tyson, before heading to see Paul Chowdry and the comedy place in Ruislip. He was reasonably good, although a lot of his material seemed to be based on improv-ing from the audience participation, and nobody wanted to participate much...

So yeah, that's pretty much it. Jim came down here yesterday and got to see me in full water pikey mode, moving my boat and emptying the toilet. FUN. Especially in the rain... But luckily I didnt bang into anything whilst moving the boat, which would have been embarrassing.

The Day I Thought About Graffiti

I'm not 100% sure which motorway it's on, or whereabouts... but there used to be this graffiti on a fence in a field on the side of - I think - the M40 coming into London that said "Why do I do this every day?" in big letters. This graffiti has now been painted over with more graffiti that says, among other things "sweaty bollox". I'm not particularly impressed by this; I liked the old graffiti - it was in really simple letters, the only thing on this fence, facing all the commuting traffic, and I liked to imagine that it was painted by, perhaps, a banker who drove into London every day to work 9-5 in a big office, then back out again to his comfortable home in Buckinghamshire, until one night he just couldnt take his mundane, anonymous life anymore, so crept out into the field one night, tie blowing loose in the wind, to paint his angst for everyone to see. Then perhaps he would have run away to an Indonesian island, to sit in a hammock sipping a cocktail, thinking of all the commuters left behind to look at his reminder of their monotonous lives. OR I thought it was painted by a young graffiti artist who wanted to impress on the commuters that there are other, more anarchic, ways of living, but that they too will result in the same monotony. It could go either way.

Today I talked to middle-aged people about my life at uni. It wasn't particularly interesting. I have an intense dislike of talking to people that I feel I can't relate to; annoyingly this seems to happen quite a lot.

The Day I Got Called Fundamentally Lonely (Just Like Everyone Else)

So today there have been two things of note. Well, not exactly of note, but two things that I fancy talking about. (Lots of other things have occurred in my life since my last blog post, but maybe I'll save them for later).

Firstly, tonight I went to see a comedy show in Ruislip - that famous centre of comedy - with Paul Foot. I'd never heard of him before, by my hopes rose when I saw a slideshow of "Unknown Paul Foot Facts" on a projector before he came on; for example, my favourite was "Paul Foot is capable of love. Tragically, though, he is one day fated to die." I also liked the fact that his first piece involved questionnaires and venn diagrams, and the second revolved around complaining that Jesus wasnt a very good carpenter, and that, being the son of God who had spent most of his life as a carpenter, he should really have contributed more to the field of carpentry, such as the "Jesus Join".

However, he then went on to talk about how we are all fundamentally lonely and that relationships are nothing more than two lonely people deciding to stay with each other in order to briefly (but, in the case of relationships, consistently) quell their loneliness. He also then picked on me, as an example of how (his words) a "very attractive lady with lovely hair will go home later and sit in front of the mirror and realise how lonely they are." This was followed by an amusing joke about texting, but whatever. In short, he was a good comedian, if you like a certain type of humour, but he also made me feel a little bit... uncomfortable? I'm not sure that's the right word, but it was a bittersweet experience. Personally I go to comedy shows to try and forget about bad things in life, not to be reminded how we are, naturally, lonely.

Anyway, the second thing of note that I saw today was a card in Clintons that said "Sympathy on the loss of your mum". This card made me feel a little bit angry. I just can't see how sending that card could ever be a good thing... I found out a little while ago that one of my close friends' mum is dead, and the thought of giving them that card is a little bit sickening. Firstly because if your mum has just died, receiving that is not going to make the blindest bit of difference - that is one of the worst things I can imagine happening, and getting something as twee and commercial as that would just seem to be almost an insult. But as well as the fact that this pale blue card with it's italicised writing could never improve the life of the person that you might send it to, how could it ever sum up how you feel about their loss? Without wanting to sound overly dramatic, the wave of compassion and heartache that I felt when I found out about my friend could never be expressed simply with the words "sympathy" on a mass-produced card. Arhhh... I'm not sure why it made me so angry, but I really hate that card, and anything like it.

PS. Apologies for the fact this is quite badly written, I don't seem to have my head in the right place for writing tonight.

The Day I Got Up At 4.30pm

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this blog, seeing as nothing in particular has happened recently. As you can see, today I didnt get up until the slightly ridiculous time of 4.30 in the afternoon; I'm not sure why, as I wasnt exactly tired, I just didnt have any energy to get up. Maybe I had an anaemia attack... Jim and Louiza have been pestering me to get tested for anaemia, as it is highly likely that I have it. When I visit Jim in easter his mum may be giving me a test, as she's a nurse, which could be a little odd - "Hi Mrs Jim's mum, nice to meet you, would you like to steal my blood now or later?"

Mmm so today I have done very little apart from watch some Gossip Girl with Lela, which is a terrible, yet terribly addictive programme about the "lives of Manhattan's elite". Then I read an article about Marxism, which was dull to read yet interesting as a whole I suppose. I often find that with my degree readings - I'm really interested by the topics as a whole, but the articles or books or whatever themselves are always a struggle to get through. Need it be like this?! I think I might start a revolution of writing in a format that is actually readable and exciting. How Marxist of me. It followed on quite well actually, as I watched The Motorcyle Diaries with Jim last night, which is one of my favourite films, and is about a roadtrip that Che Guevara took before he was famous. Basically follows their journey across South America, subtly showing the different things he saw on the way that influenced his later life. There's one scene in particular, when him and his friend are sat in Macchu Pichu, and his friend is talking about his plan to democratise the country and lead a revolution via voting, and Che says something like "dont be silly, as if you could start a revolution without gunshots". Mmm, great film.

Makes me think about all these idealistic aspirations I used to have, imagining that in the future I'd be able to change the world. I think a part of me still wants to do that, but perhaps now in a different way. When I was younger I only had things like that film to inspire me, but I've been reading so much more now, and learning more, and I know now that revolution just isnt really possible anymore, or worthwhile. It'd be nice to make the world a better place, but you have to be pragmatic. If every country in the world was communist, and we had ways to protect against corruption, then maybe it would work and we could have a wonderful egalitarian society. But thats just not possible; to make something happen you have to work within institutions and structures. Anyway, basically now I'm considering working for the UN or something when I finish university. I dont think I'd be satisfied with my life unless I knew that I'd at least attempted to make a difference in some way... even if it's eventually futile.

Mmmkay, bye.

The Day I Felt Proactive

There is a woman in the Clifton Sainsburys who is like a checkout machine. She sits, her rather large frame taking up almost all of the available space, sweat dripping down her pink forehead as she scans those items like nobody has ever scanned before. She barely speaks, perhaps believing that her insane speed makes up for the lack of other aspects of customer service, such as telling you how much it costs in an audible voice, or waiting until the previous customer has left before packing up your stuff. Unnerving though it is, her dedication to the cause is an inspiration, one which I have been attempting to imitate.

I have indeed been feeling strangely proactive lately, hence the blog title, which could be due (worryingly) to the amount of work I've had - the fact that I've been forced to streamline my life so that I can fit all the shiz-loads of reading and essaying into it has made it feel like "hey, if I can do all this stuff, I could probably do other productive things too!" I was discussing this with Jack whilst walking back from philosophy on Friday and he set me the task of organising his life over the weekend while he went home; his life luckily coincides with my life, and so I have been planning various things for us to do. These are:

• Start a band. This has been discussed for ages now, but I think I might finally force people to put it into action. At first the idea was for me to go on bass, Jack and Jim on guitars and Dave on drums. But our lack of a vocalist led to calls (mainly from Jim) for me to do vocals, and the idea has been growing on me, despite the fact I dont think I can sing particularly well. But if peepz think I can sing well enough, then I might just do that, and Jim can do bass, as he's got t'funk. Maybe I'll do rhythm guitar as well or something.
  
• Make a short film entitled Troll 4. If anyone reading this has never watched Troll 2, then they must. It's amazingly terrible. Again, this has been discussed for quite a while, so I have drafted a brief synopsis of a possible plot, and if we end up having the time and equipment then maybe we'll film it.
  
• Go to a leisure centre, with a swimming pool and slide. I've done some research and there is one pretty close by, so maybe we'll go next weekend.
  
• Work out a potential holiday in the summer. Center Parcs is looking like a good option, it's fun, cheap (if we go in September) and has a "subtropical swimming paradise"
  
• Start playing basketball regularly. I've got into basketball in the past week for some reason (probably inspired by One Tree Hill), and we've played a couple of times, including a late night basketball drinking game. It's pretty fun, and I should probably get more exercise than I currently do...
  

That's about it really. The band is the main objective; there's a little music festival held in our hall in summer, so the general aim is to play at that I think. Could be fun, and if I can get my singing to a decent level then we could be pretty good as the other guys are all awesome at their instruments. We want to do a Lion King style cover of Killing In The Name Of.

The Day I Spent More Money Than Ever Before

Oh my. Well, dear readers, you'll be pleased to know that I finally have a flat sorted for next year (cue cheers, woops and pats on the back)! Unfortunately this meant that today I had to go and sign away £525.93 of my lovely lovely money... Which is rather a lot, and I dont want to think about how much I now have left. God bless overdrafts, that's all I'm saying. Anyway the flat sounds pretty cool, although it is still being built, which is a little bit worrying; but when finished it should have 5 double rooms with balconies, and 2 bathrooms, and due to the 10 month let it works out pretty cheap =) so yay!

Anyway this weekend I have been up to interesting and fun things, so I shall turn my attention to them. It began last Wednesday, when myself plus the Flat 3 crew (Anna, Jack, Ben & Katriona) went to Propaganda and met Sid from Skins, which was exciting, although I think my night was made by seeing a guy fall flat on his face on the dancefloor, then try to style it out by turning it into a press-up - skillz. Then the next morning I woke up with alcohol still coursing furiously through my veins, and stumbled down to town to get the coach to London. Eventually made it back to my boat, then that night went to see Colour Me Wednesday play a gig at a local pub. This was so much fun, me and Helen danced and sang like crazy fools with no shame. Then for the unexpected encore they played Russian Roulette and me and Helen got up to do gang vocals. Good times. It made me feel really nostalgic, both for the times before uni and for being in a band. I'm also so proud of them, they've really improved and sound awesome.

So that was Thursday, then on Friday I went to stay with Louiza in Oxford. This was also really cool, and based a lot around food, which is always good =) Friday night we went to G&D's Ice Cream parlour and had brownies, mmmmhmm. Was good to meet all the people she's been telling me about, even if they did call me a water pikey (but this is both true and to be expected). Then on Saturday we went for a wander round Oxford and saw an acapella jazz/scat kinda band on the street; got Dominos in the evening - yet more tasty food! Then on Sunday we went into town to get lunch and saw another cool street performer, this time a suited-up black guy doing micheal jackson dancing. I gave him 50p. Other highlights were going and taking photos on Will and Lyra's bench in the botanical gardens, then doing some mad photoshopping to place in our respective "daemons" (koala for Lou, red panda for me) in the picture; we spent quite a while deciding on names for these daemons, eventually concluded on Amenor (Albanian for "maternal") for Louiza and Aiden (Celtic for "little fiery one") for me. Sometimes we are just too cool.

So yes, generally good times! Got back last night absolutely exhausted, so much so that Jim thought I was stoned. But I had a red bull, got some energy and went to see Jack and Anna, where we played Game Cube, span round in circles and played Scattergories. Then today I got back a Politics essay and was frustrated to find out I havent improved at all since the beginning of the year, in fact I got worse. So might have to talk with my tutor and find out where I'm going wrong. Also attempted to write an essay plan whilst high on red bull and coffee and just ended up writing about 3 pages of bullet points essentially listing phrases that were meant to encapsulate "what Tasha thinks about ethics" which probably have no relevance to the question and will not help at all. Might go running to Jack in a bit and ask him to sift through my ramblings.

This has now turned into an essay itself, so I will reward you with a picture:

The Day I Lost A House and Gained an Epiphany

I'm not sure you can really "gain" an epiphany, but it worked better in the title, so screw grammatical accuracy. Not sure we technically "lost" the house either, since we never had it to begin with, but in my mind we did, and it sounds more dramatic, so screw technical accuracy too.

So today began fairly hopefully: we had decided last night to get this lovely (in my opinion) house in Cotham - Georgian, big rooms, massive windows, good price etc - so I handed out the application forms and told everyone to get them to me today to give in to the estate agent. At 11.30am Anna went in to hand in her form and said that the house was still available. At 1pm I had rung Zoe about 20 times to try and find out where she was and get her form, but no luck, she appeared to have gone completely AWOL. Decided this probably didnt matter too much so headed down, and at 3.30 me and Lela went in with ours and Adam's forms, all prepared to get the house of loveliness. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, some FCKING TWATBAGS [sic] had got there already and given in all their forms. Cue Tasha looking like a small child who's ice-cream has just been swiped from under their nose by a laughing prostitute.

Safe to say I was not a happy bunny. Cant help feeling like if I'd pressured everyone more last week, or even last night, we could have got it, but its pointless to think like that I guess. Anyway, after my lecture I ended up wandering back across the downs feeling like crap and realising that the stress of organising everything was going to continue for some time yet.

However, walking across the middle of a muddy field watching a little kid being chased by a dog can have a surprisingly calming effect, and so we turn to my epiphany; somewhat un-dramatic though it may be. The past few weeks I've realised that I have become increasingly stressed, and lie awake almost every night going over and over all the things I need to do - sort out houses, find my chequebook, get a job, do my reading, write an essay, get some food, print out train tickets, etc etc. And so, in light of this, my epiphany consisted of three realisations:

1. I am water pikey. This means that for the first 14 years of my life I slept in a bed two foot wide, in a corridor, with a kitchen that couldnt really fit two people at the same time. Therefore, I dont really give a shit what kind of house I live in; obviously it would be nice to have a big room, but if I end up in a little one, with a tiny kitchen, then fuck it, I can live with that. If other people want a bit more than that *cough*Lela*cough* then they can fucking sort it out.
   
2. I am in my first year of uni. Yes obviously it's important for me to do my essays, but if they are a bit shit it doesnt matter.
   
3. I have actually succeeded, at least so far, in getting over my main emotional issue of the past two years (of being shit at relationships), and am really happy with Jim.

So really, it's not that bad.

The Day I Was Humped By A Red Panda

So today is the day after that day we shall call Spend-Money-On-Me-Cause-I'm-Awesome-And-Society-Tells-You-That-You-Should-If-You-Want-To-Show-Me-That-You-Care-Dammit Day. Not that I want to belittle it entirely, because I'm very grateful for the stuff that Jim got me, and it was nice to give him some presents (read: cheese-based items) too. But then, we got each other stuff that actually kinda meant something, and was personal, as opposed to the queues of men I saw outside the flower shop rushing to buy roses for their girlfriends, or the women wearily selected cards saying "To My Special Husband" from WHS Smith in their lunchbreak. That kind of stuff seems utterly pointless, and slightly sickening. I have no issues with people showing affection through consumerism (what a surprise...), so long as they are actually showing affection, not just doing it because they feel they have to. In short: my boyfriend is better than yours, na na na-na naaa.

No, of course I am sure that other people have wonderful boyfriends, and that many many other people gave each other presents that genuinely showed they cared, or in fact will wait until a random day when they see something that they think their loved one will like (as our taxi driver said last night: "if you love someone, every day should be Valentines Day." Wise words) Nevertheless, Jim is pretty damn cool. Evidence A: he took me on my first proper date, to ASK, and we ate tasty food. Evidence B: he bought me Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice-cream. Evidence C: he is generally awesome. Evidence D: he bought me a red panda toy =D

This toy is called Red Panda, and his accent is undecided. Chinese or Bristolian would make most sense, but personally I think he looks a little bit Irish. He also humped my face quite a bit, although I have a feeling he was being egged on by Jim, and is in fact not a particularly rapey red panda.

Aside from all this romantic shizz, today I have been learning about the pluralist and elitist approaches in political science, and how they are both a bit shit. It seems like your dream, Jen, of an over-reaching theory that has been properly thought-through and actually works, is unfortunately going to be a mere dream for a while yet. My thoughts on the subject, poorly backed-up though they may be, is that people try and get too specific with their theories, trying to find some magical formula that applies to everyone everywhere and explains things in this precise way; when common sense suggests that there will be lots of different ways that things happen and for lots of different reasons, and that the best approach is probably to try and combine all the existing theories into one big theory, or just give up.

Sigh. Reading is hard. So is writing blogs; I think it's impossible to write one without sounding a bit pretentious and lame. Oh well!

Toodles

The Day I Went To My Seminar

Today, in order to prove Jim wrong and win a bet at the same time, I went to my nine o'clock seminar for Approaches to the Study of Political Science (one of the longest and, I suspect, dullest unit names eva). In it, I learnt a lot about the exciting behaviouralist revolution that took place in the 1950s, and the post-behaviouralist movement that came along in the '60s and said "hey, wait a minute, behaviouralism is a bit shit and didnt take into account lots of important things." I also learnt that I really don't give a crap about behaviouralism. Perhaps I should.

Then I came back and watched some Green Wing; I'm still undecided about whether I like it or find it annoying. I am constantly disappointed by Brian-from-Spaced's character in it, who is funny for about 5 minutes then just becomes irritating. Oh look, he stutters and is socially retarded, ha ha. Then I made an AWESOME VEGGIE BURGER (TM) which featured not only a rather tasty sainsburys veggie burger but also fried onion, tomato, lettuce, cheese and mayo & relish. My life is well exciting.

After this we went a looked at a house near uni, which sounded like it was gonna be really good but turned out to be situated in a dodgy council-estate-looking-thing. I thought I was going to be shanked by a drug dealer just walking around looking for the damn place. Then ended up looking at another house off Park Street (recently featured in Skins zomg!!!!) but that was also a bit grotty. So the search continues! Cotham Park house tomorrow tho, which I rather like.

Other highlights of my day were:

• finding the combination of the words "muffin" and "cookie" really hilarious. Eg. "mookie", "muffie" and "cookin"
  
• listening to Avril Lavignes first album. Nostalgia ftw

Mmm yeah. Bye