Sunday, 9 March 2008


I've been thinking about the idea of aging a lot lately....well, more than usual. Every year since I turned 18 (ok so that only makes two years so far) I've been crying on my birthday. 17 will always remain one of the biggest, craziest, best years of my life (I doubt lol). I thrive off of the fact that people admire how much I've already done at such a young age. People over here are constantly amazed that I will be going into my third and final year of University at 19, and graduating at 20, ready to start a life in the US on my own; independent. But that is so useless to me. If only they knew the life I lived when I was younger. ULTIMATE OVER-ACHIEVER! And now that I think about it, I guess that's why I was bullied so much. Then, with my depression, I just stopped...achieving, period. I didn't give a shit. And I was the most popular kid around. EVERYONE wanted to be my friend, and they would still tell me how great I was, which made me even MORE depressed. And now, I feel all washed up. I want it back; the skills, the envy, the admiration. There are kids on here like Miss Couturable who make me feel like dirt. Anyways, I guess, reading this passage over now, I see that it has just been something I needed to get off my chest. I hope it makes me start working my ass off now. I AM NOT OLD. Someone please tell me. People laugh at me for crying on my birthday and I am not even legal in the US yet. Tell me. I HAVE A LOT AHEAD OF ME. I HAVE NOT YET LIVED. I AM NOT. OLD.

Yesterday, my parents and I were having a serious and seriously long discussion on Skype about my accommodation situation here in London. My particular course (Creative Writing) doesn't have exams in it so we finish the school year much earlier than everyone. This year, I'm finishing by the end of April, while people are staying on 'til June (SUCKS TO BE YOU!). But then, it also sucks to be me too in this case. Basically, I'm on campus, and have already paid off my accommodation fees for the Spring term, which means I'm set to fuck about in this room until 6th April. Then, the summer term begins..and we have to pay £868 to stay here from April 7th to June 5th. So...I emailed the accommodation officer to tell her I would be going back home on May 1st, and only staying 3 weeks into the summer term (which at £90/w I calculated would be only £270). She emailed me back to tell me I would still have to pay the whole thing. So I freaked. I started packing my suitcase and everything! Because I WASN'T DOING THAT!

Why is this related to old people? Well, my Grandfather is my only remaining London-based UK relative. The three other families I have to run to in the UK if I ever needed a place to stay are:
1. My aunt and uncle and their 4 kids who just moved to Cambridge
2. My aunt and uncle who live in Derby
3. My aunt and her two kids who finally got tired of London's ridiculousness and moved to Qatar a month later after being offered a job.

BUT! My dad told me his father (my grandfather) was back in Florida where he has another house. 'He told me he would be back since November!' I cried.
'Well, things happen. The house in Florida has serious flood damage so he is stuck there fixing it. Did you know, his wife, your grandmother's birthday is today and she fell and broke her collarbone? So he is staying longer because of that too. Please take some time today to call or email her,' said my dad.

So I do NOT know where I will be living in April, because of old people (yes, the accommodation officer is also old with a stern jaw and reminds me of Glenn Close's character in 'The Devil Wears Prada'). I. Hate. Her.

One of our assignments for class on Tuesday is to take a piece of writing we did back in Year 1 in our Life Writing class and try to re-write it the way we would like it to be written now; with regards to the knowledge we gained in the past year on what would work better for a story etc. So, over the past few days I've been looking at one about my grandfather dying called "A Death in the Family", now renamed "Loss". It was pretty good but I had a lot to change about it this time around. Instead of it being a real life event plucked from my youth, I sort of fictionalized it this time to make it more interesting. Because, really, all it was before, was me talking about my grandfather dying...and....whether we like it or not, people die all the time. So, I've been deep in the past recently, re-thinking that whole incident and what my grandfather's life was like. It's been a sad, pensive couple of days.

BUT he also helped me realise something! I don't think I told you, because I was afraid to do so before, but I am entering the Vogue Talent Contest for Young Writers this year and one of the entry requirements is a piece on someone who has been an inspiration to you, and that's been the toughest bit of the entry for me thusfar. Even though I don't know who the hell I am at 19 with severe mood swings, the 600 word Autobiography bit took me 45 minutes to write! And I am already ready with something to nail the 600 word contemporary arts review., I'm thinking I should talk about my grandfather as an inspiration.

I have also been don't know what/who, I guess dead people everywhere, to share with you said short story. I've been so afraid all these years to share my work but Year 2 has really been an impactful, life-changing year for me so it turns out, I am now ready to share! I am now ready to get a move on with life, I guess. Which is great because I thought I would die before I ever got my work published because of my fear. But I AM YOUNG, and there is nothing I can do wrong at this stage. So, why not? What's the worst that could happen? (that was me trying to be positive about age). I'll post it in the next post since this one is dreadfully long.

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