Thursday, 20 January 2011

Oh no… here comes a lengthy and relatively serious blog post…

I have been thinking over the past few days (in between revision panic) about why I started blogging.

I remembered that I started a blog once before, at the beginning of my second year in uni. I’d just moved out of halls and into a house with my friends and I’d decided to get my life organized and along with that get my thoughts organized. One of my housemates and I both decided to start blogs based on our ridiculous student lives. Hers was extremely entertaining, well written and witty whereas I felt mine was just plain boring, so I left it untouched after only one post. I was uninspired It’s been barely 18 months and so much has changed since then. New home, new friends, new blog, new me(???)

Ever heard of the phrase “It seemed like a good idea at the time”, well I never thought I’d be one to say that. When I was somewhere around 13 a friend of mine threw a Coke bottle at my head. It hurt a lot and left a nice shiny bump. I was mortified at first, especially since her excuse was that it seemed like a good idea at the time. From that moment I vowed I’d never do something so catastrophically stupid unless I was sure I wouldn’t regret it. I laughed about it afterwards of course.

Moving in with my friends was my first occasion of something seeming like a good idea at the time.  I’d always felt a bit distant from the other four girls I was living with as I’d joined the friendship group quite late into first year, but I was quite excited about experiencing a new part of “what uni is all about”. Living in close proximity to people who turn out to be nothing like you at all can grate on your nerves a little. Don’t get me wrong they're all the loveliest of girls, each one of them has their own unique and wonderful qualities and I miss them all dearly, but their interests converged nicely and mine did not. They were into fashion, make-up, celeb gossip and other such very girly things. I’m totally into all of that stuff but completely in moderation and alongside a whole truckload of super geeky things like reading, anything to do with space, video games, being in the great outdoors, museums, Stephen Fry…

(I despair to this day, while I've now got some really awesome friends who are more me and I feel natural and relaxed hanging out with, they still aren't quite like me. I think it must be the video games. I really need to tone down my intense interest in video games, it's so....manly....)

Gosh there’s so many I can’t even list them. Maybe I will think carefully and do a post based on each of my “most loved”’s? Or I could cheat and see if I still have my Myspace page, from what may aswell be decades ago, and just copy the giant list of likes I have there. Maybe it will be interesting to see what has changed…

I digress.

We didn’t have enough in common so I spent most of my time hiding away at my boyfriends flat, which was probably one shortest spaces of the time in my life so far with more ups and downs crammed in than you could ever imagine. His flatmates were a bit wild. Crazy partys till 4am nearly every other weeknight. The almost daily onslaught of one of his flatmates saying “We need to call the landlord, I got drunk and broke…”. I think the total damages included a handful of holes in the floor, a broken window, broken bathroom door lock (don’t ask) and many broken light fittings. It was Tony and I were living with a bunch of adolescents but I did say there were many “ups” too, like playing Final Fantasy XIII for almost 24 hours straight, playing a fantastic round of beer pong on St Patricks Day and so many laughs, so many memories!

Then, as I was getting back into the swing of things for my third year in uni, I came across my friends blog; Don’t Panic - The Students Guide to Food. Her blogging had inspired me to get back to the keyboard. This time I had a different attitude towards blogging entirely, a much more mature outlook than I’d had the year before. This time I wasn’t blogging to see how many hits I could get or how popular I could become. This time I was blogging for me.

I used to read a lot, and by a lot I mean so much that I can’t even remember which books I’ve read and which I haven’t. Books are so precious to me, I look after them as if they have feelings and have found myself extremely frustrated and upset on the few occasions where I’ve accidentally damaged one of my huge mountain (now stored in boxes in my attic :( ). I get lost in books, I feel every character and I always manage to disappear into the stories as if I’m really there, I often don’t even notice it happening, it’s like I’m dreaming while I’m awake. I don’t have such a vivid imagination even when I try my hardest to imagine something. I think reading has always been my escape, my de-stress mechanism that I never knew I had.

So I suppose that blogging is just another way of manifesting the same creativity and stress relief I’d get from reading a book, just sort of inverted. It’s funny because I’ve tried so hard on numerous occasions to keep a diary and I’ve managed a day or two and then forgotten about it or become bored, whereas blogging couldn’t come more naturally. I don’t even mind if my content is erratic, often doesn’t make sense and ranges from total rubbish to what can scrape as entertaining because I’m still just writing for me. :)

Not that I’m completely selfish of course, I love to read other peoples blogs and I love the friendly community you can grow between a blogger, fellow bloggers and their readers.

Most of all I am a woman of high integrity and morals (teehee, always wanted to say that, it sounds kind of important!) and I have some strong beliefs that I like to stick to. One of the key ones is how important making people smile is to me. The warm feeling from knowing I made someone smile is beyond all explanation. It’s not necessarily making someone laugh, just warming their heart, making them ponder something, giving the right compliment at the right time, anything that brightens their day even just a fraction. Most importantly of all though, is actually meaning it. I’m not nice to people because I want to believe I’m some sort of better person. I’m nice to people because it makes me happy. I’ve had a lot of experience with “fake nice” and I’m not sure there’s many people left in the world who still know how to be genuinely nice.

It’s so ruthless out there. RAWR

Sorry, felt the need to lighten the mood.

Moving on….

Now I feel like the ultimate blogger - sitting in my bed with a lovely cup of tea (I'm British alright!!) and a humungous bar a Dairy Milk Fruit and Nut and, best of all, absolutely nothing to do!

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