Dear Blog,
Halfway through the second year of university and I'm dreading the end. Because like the end of high school once you finish university you are expected to do something with your life, and that is a concept my friend that I do not like.
In my current state I am able to pass by jobless, carless, and prospectless without really inciting any kind of questioning or lectures. However, once you hit 20 (only a matter of months away for yours truly) you have to start becoming a real person. At least that's what I've been told.
In the way of becoming a real person I've been trying to develop both my careers as an artist and a writer. In the ways of writing I have failed miserably but seem to be doing ok on the art front. My sister and I started an art blog (on a rival site *blasphemy*!) which is doing surprisingly well. Alas these seeds are nowhere near ready enough for me to reap a career off so I have to admit that yes, it is not looking good. Pair that with my insanely vague first degree and confusing second degree and you have a recipe for living in a refrigerator box behind a Dick Smith. I better learn how to play a ukulele and buy a scraggly dog as a companion.
One thing that I can congratulate myself on is the increase in the amount of time I spend out of the house. This is partially due to the fact that I am now housing a French exchange kid (again) and I don't really want her to see how sloth-like I really am. Unfortunately now that I'm going for coffees, seeing artistic movies I pretend to understand, and eating a ridiculous amount of desserts my bank balance is looking very sad indeed. Being sociable comes at a price.
My new French sibling (let's call her Croissant) has also opened my eyes to how much of a boring sheltered existence I lead. My idea of a good time is a cup of tea, Masterchef, and pyjamas. Her idea of a good time is smoking, weed, and ten hour sex sessions which I found daunting and strangely impressive ("don't you have errands to run?").
I've spoken excessively about how much of an old lady I am but this now seems to be truly validated by Croissant. Even more so now that I have as many romantic interests as a eunuch (I have been watching alot of Game of Thrones). I don't know if I have impossibly high standards or I just hate everyone. The cause seems to be that I consume too much media and have an unrealistic expectation of men. I would never admit this out loud because I would immediately slap anyone who told me I didn't live up to the expectations of women set out by magazines. I guess that while the way women think men never find them thin or attractive enough due to the media may be valid, we females are essentially guilty of the same crime. Last week I found a (quite cute and friendly in hindsight) guy so uninteresting that I ditched him in favour of getting another five dollar shot I knew would taste terrible. I felt really guilty about it later but maybe he would have had a better chance if he had burst through the window with a machete and whisked me away at the last minute from incoming evil zombie ninjas.
Oh god I'm insane. Bring out the straight jacket.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Limbo Land
Posted by glorified_diary at 1:54 AM
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