Plan A

My Plan A for life is to win the lottery. And as I don't really have a Plan B at the moment, I'm buying all the EuroMillions lottery tickets I can afford. I had 5 tickets for Friday's £100,000,000 draw and now it's another rollover (which, by the way, I find incredible as sales were apparently up 600%. It must be nearly impossible to win this thing) I'll be buying about 10 this week. I don't think it's an unrealistic plan. It's definitely better than Plan A II which was to locate the Real Radio Fugitive (that plan is on hold, until the competition is back on air - then I'll find the bastard) and live off the winnings. At least it has more long term prospects. Winning EuroMillions will set the next twenty generations of my family up for life. Finding the Fugitive would've set me up for about 3 months, unless I blew it all in one day on a flat in London. When I win the lottery, everything else will fall into place and all my dreams will be ready to come true. OK, OK, so apparently money can't buy happiness, but it'll bloody well help. Plan A has to work. Otherwise I might have to like, get a job or something. Bleurgh.

I detest the library

I was a bit hungover this morning and I slept in and didn't have time to brush my hair before I left the house so I look like shit. I felt sick and it didn't help that I'd drank my hangover cure can of Irn Bru before I went to bed instead of leaving it for the morning. Then, it was minus 5 outside. Minus fucking 5. So anyway, it wasn't the best of starts to the day.

Had a nice breakfast with R, reading the Metro and sitting in the window people watching. A roll and sausage and potato scone with brown sauce, and finally a can of Irn Bru. It cured the hangover anyway. That was the only good bit of the day. Since then (and that was 8 hours ago) I've been in the library not doing my dissertation. I have such a mental block and that's not good with 12345...11 days until hand in day. I have no motivation. What's my motivation here? People ask what I'm going to do with my degree and I'm like 'Um...go travelling?'.

There was a girl sitting next to me for a few hours doing her dissertation. Her friends were over and they were all doing the 'oooh my god how many words is your analysis?' crap, and one of them was a bit behind and they were all saying 'You'll be fine!' 'You'll get it done!' 'Don't worry about it!'. Then as soon as the girl walked away they were all 'She is so fucked' and 'She doesn't even care' and 'She's never handing this in on time'. One of them said 'I'd like to be like her, not stressed and just relaxed about it' and the other one replied instantly, 'No. You wouldn't'. Then they were saying 'You'd need to be, like, really shit to get a 2:2 for your dissertation. Really shit'. 'Yeah it's like impossible. Surely'. 'Who even gets below a 2:1 for their dissertation? No one'. 'Oh my god, wouldn't you just die if you got a 2:2 for your degree? What a waste of time'. Fuck them.

The library woman was all moody with me because I took a book to be renewed and it was about 10 seconds overdue. What does it even matter to her? I was trying to use the computer next to the books to look up a shelf code but this fucking ignorant little girl was hogging it to look up her entire year's texts, so I had to go and use another computer. I didn't have any paper so I wrote the code on my hand and then a few hours later I forgot it was still written there and ended up with it printed on my face. I've been leaning on my hand all day. I had to have a Cadbury's Bubbly for lunch, and a packet of Walkers chicken and thyme Sensations. This day is horrendous.

There is a girl with the biggest scarf I have ever seen across from me. It is suffocating her.

Moi

South Park Studio

Plan

I want to move to London some time during the summer. My sister also has this idea about going to Chicago for a few months in June so I would like to go and visit her if she goes. I've never been to Chicago. But then if I was in America anyway, I'd want to go and visit L in Boston or LA or wherever she is these days. LA is a bit far though, so hopefully she'd be in Boston, or come to Boston. And then if I was in Boston, I'd want to go to New York. Yeah. New York, Boston and Chicago. Then come home and move to London. That would be a good summer, I think. I'm scared I'll be depressed this summer because compared to the last two summers it can't really be anything other than shit. At least I'll have that freedom feeling after graduation. Graduation. Fuck I can't believe I'll be graduating in just a few months. Well, 6 months. Maybe that will help things feel a bit less awful. You know, take my mind off the debt and the lack of travelling it causes.

You have to know where you've been to know where you're going

create your own visited countries map

Looking at my crappy grey map makes me want to forget my dissertation, forget uni... I want to get on a plane tomorrow and go somewhere. Anywhere. I don't care where as long as it's new and exciting and different and there's things to discover.

The Libertine is Locked in Jail

'Babyshambles gig tonight cancelled'

'Everything's got to be
Just how it has to be
Or he won't play
And I know that boy wants to
Approach me and say
All he's got to say
Maybe he'll say it today, maybe no'

On the news they said that Pete going to jail will reinforce his 'bad boy junkie rocker' image and make everyone love him even more. They make it sound like his fans are an army of screaming 14 year old Pete Doherty wannabes following him around wearing trilbies and injecting heroin to be like him. Or we're all hoping he'll die so that we can have a new Kurt Cobain to cry over and talk about how he was a tortured genius and carve his lyrics into our skin. Well, I'm not like that. I have no rose tinted glasses when it comes to anything, never mind Pete Doherty. I'd so much rather he was clean, that the Sun didn't give a fuck what he did, that he was happy. That he was never in police custody instead of at a gig I've paid for. I don't think it's romantic or 'rock n roll' or impressive that he's in this state. I feel really sad for him and scared for him. On a couple of forums I've looked at, people turn on the guy the second he's let them down. Really, really turn on him, and say some very nasty things. I'm upset, and disappointed, and a little bit sad. Especially because this was the last possible chance to see him, maybe for a long time. But when I bought that ticket I knew it was a gamble and I knew he's unreliable and that he might get arrested or might just decide he couldn't be arsed leaving London. And even that he might show up when really he was in no fit state to be near a stage. Everyone who bought a ticket knew the risk they were taking. I bought it for the chance it would be an amazing night. It was a gamble, and I might even have known from the start that the odds weren't in my favour, but I still think it was worth it. If he was playing again next week, I'd do the same thing again. Because if it had worked out and he'd shown up and played, it would've been beyond amazing. It would've been worth the money 100 times over. I'm not angry with him, I'm not vowing never to give him another penny, I'm not acting shocked like this was completely unexpected. I'm just a little bit disappointed, and a little bit hoping he'll get his act together sometime soon before he pisses it all away completely.

'I'm so sorry if I neglect you
I mean you no harm, mean you no harm
And I'm so sorry if I disrespected you
Mean you no harm
Oh look around, it's true
Tonight, I'll be chasing you'

If you've lost your faith in love and music the end won't be long

So the gig's cancelled. The tour's cancelled. Pete's in jail. I might as well have thrown my money into a skip

Beyond gutted.

Two Times

Dear Peter

I do, genuinely, care about you. I have sympathy for you and I want you to stop taking drugs and get better and be happy. I want all those things for completely unselfish reasons.

But right now, today, I think I'm allowed to be a little bit selfish. I'm allowed to want you to play tomorrow night because it would make me happy, and the ticket cost me a fortune. Today, I want to ask you please try not to get arrested tomorrow. You were arrested twice today which I think is more than enough for one person, and I'm sure it was almost as inconvenient for you as it is for the hundreds of fans currently waiting for you in Newcastle. So please. Please. Try to go 24 hours tomorrow without being arrested.

Pixie x x x

I know he has a reputation to uphold but does he really have to get arrested EVERY week?

Dear Mr Policeman

Please let Pete go so he can play Glasgow tomorrow night. I would appreciate it very much indeed. It would be even better if you escorted him to the venue, just to make sure he didn't get sidetracked on the way up.

Thanks
Pixie x x x

What a Shambles

Dear Pete Doherty

If I have given every penny I own to some thieving eBay scummy touting bastard out of sheer desperation to be at your gig on Friday night and it turns out that you can't even be arsed being there, I will be severely pissed off. Severely.

Don't let Glasgow down, Peter.

Pixie x x x

Sold Out

Dear Ticket Tout

Thank you. Thank you for taking it upon yourself to act as a middle man in the sale of Babyshambles tickets for the current tour. Some people might say it's easier for fans to get their tickets directly from the venue or from Ticketmaster or some other authorised outlet. Not me. I loooove to see 'sold out' splashed across gig announcements. I love trawling eBay looking for the cheapest tickets. I love the anxious wait to see if I've been ripped off or not. Will the tickets arrive before the gig? Did the tickets exist in the first place? It makes it a bit more exciting, I think. I bet it makes you feel proud of yourself too, knowing that you had the sense to be poised over your keyboard at 9am the day they went on sale, ready to snap up as many as you could. You were faster, smarter, one step ahead of everyone else. Well done. I'm sure you love to watch your auction as the price creeps up past face value. The tickets cost you £15 each but they sell for 4 times that. Congratulations! What a nice little earner you're on to. Ripping desperately wanted tickets out of the reach of fans so you can kindly give them a second chance on eBay 5 minutes later. It's a great business you're in. Thank you for allowing me to bid on your tickets. £40 each? It was almost a bargain.

You fucking cunt.

Pixie x x x x x

The Crap-ness

This whole dissertation thing is killing me. Actually, this whole honours year thing is killing me. As a direct consequence of my decision to stay on at uni for another year, my life has ended up crap. Here are the main effects:

1. I am dependent on Nytol. Last night I had a few glasses of wine with R and went to bed early-ish after eating chips and cheese for supper listening to the Arctic Monkeys album (love it, by the way). These probably weren't ideal sleeping conditions, but alcohol usually has me dreaming as soon as my head hits the pillow. I wanted to take a Nytol, just to make sure (and that's what's happens - I don't know if I'll need a sleeping tablet so I take one 'just to make sure'), but I was scared I'd die (because of the wine) so I didn't. Instead, I lay in bed thinking 'I should've taken a Nytol. I wish I could take a Nytol. I'm never getting to sleep. I can't sleep. I need a Nytol'. For comparison: before this year I had never taken a sleeping tablet in my life.

2. I am watching too much TV. I constantly feel like I need to be writing my dissertation. Constantly. That means I feel like I can't go out, therefore I'm always at home. That combined with the genius of Neighbours lately, and the brilliance of Celebrity Big Brother means that I am officially a TV addict. Every single day I watch Neighbours, Murder She Wrote, Deal or No Deal, Richard and Judy, Hollyoaks, Eastenders, Coronation Street, and Celebrity Big Brother. That is just the bare minimum. There's also Desperate Housewives, My Name is Earl, The Simpsons, and lots of others that I watch when they're on and when I can. I also watch too many DVDs. I fit in as much TV every day as possible. I get upset if I'm out and miss something. I am not always like this.

3. I have no social life. This is the one that's killing me the most. I'm in a constant state of crap-ness, stress and tiredness. I had lunch today with some friends and my dissertation was in my head the whole time. My dissertation and how shit it is and how badly I'm going to do and how I can't do it. I am terrible company.

4. Babyshambles are playing on Friday and I DO NOT HAVE A TICKET. The tickets were on sale and I saw them on Ticketmaster and I thought 'Dissertation, dissertation, dissertation...' and did not buy one. This is not like me. Not at all. When did I re-prioritise my life and put uni before going to see Babyshambles play on their last tour before Pete gets sent to jail? It was a moment of sheer insanity which I will regret for the rest of my life. I wish I could turn back time and buy a ticket. I feel like crying. Especially when I see those eBay ticket touting fuckers who buy tickets just to sell at 3 times the price and piss me off. They were going for around £50 last night. Thieving bastards. I don't know how they can sleep at night.

There are others like 5. I am putting on weight and 6. I have spent all my student loan on CDs and second hand boots but really, I don't have time to write about those. I came to the library for a reason and that was to write my dissertation. So that is what I am going to do.

I Believe

I'm sick of my dissertation supervisor giving me her pitying, falsely kind smile with a look in her eyes which unmistakably conveys the message 'You'll be working in a call centre this time next year'. She thinks I'm crap. She makes me think I'm crap. She tries to be kind about it but not very effectively. She says things like 'I'm not saying this is rubbish, but...' after she has verbally cut my entire 11,500 word document to pieces. Time is marching on and yet she's still starting meetings with 'Well I've read this through quickly...'. Thanks for taking the time to fucking skim the draft I spent days on, that was really nice of you. Hope it didn't spoil your weekend. The hand in date is less than 3 weeks away? Don't worry about it, you take your time.

Thankfully before I went to meet her today I picked up an essay I'd been putting off collecting. A one week late, written in 2 insomniac-y nights, hardly any research, piece of crap essay. Oh yes you can congratulate me on my sixty eight percent. So dissertation woman can go and fuck herself because I. Am. Clever. Enough.

Flab

Actually, I do need to stop eating chocolate. I feel fat. So here's the plan...

Cut the crap - no chocolate, and especially, most definitely no Tesco kid's chocolate crispy cakes. I've already lost my taste for crisps (thank you, Asia) but just in case I relapse, I'll say none of them either.

Those are the rules. Simple. And...easy? Easy. Ish. I blame my parents, really, for my attitude to food. They always used sweets as a reward or a special treat when I was younger and now because I have my own money and I can drive and I can choose for myself what to eat, I still treat chocolate as a way to make me feel better. Even though it fucking most certainly does not. Well, temporarily it does. But in the long term it makes me feel bloated and weak-willed. I think the snacks are the main problem so for now I won't bother adding any stupid rules like 'no roll and sausage and potato scone for breakfast' because that's practically impossible. Yes, I'll simply stop snacking. I know I've put on too much weight in the last few years and it's one of my biggest fears that if I keep going, people are going to start looking at me as a fat girl. 'Pixie? Oh, yeah, the fat girl?'. I can't be fat. I will not allow myself to get fat. I am taking control of my life.

Which is why, from today, it stops.

Everybody Needs

How fucking good has Neighbours just got!? Oh my god, the drama! A bomb, a plane crash, death, love, DISASTER. It's fantastic. Connor, Serena, Sky, Dylan, Izzy, Paul, Elle, Susan, Alex, Lil and David are currently floating around desperately in the sea after a bomb exploded under their plane, causing it to plummet to earth.

Confession: I cried when Serena, David and Lil said their LAST goodbyes. (I know it's their last goodbyes because I couldn't wait to know what happens and joined a Neighbours fan forum (post count so far:1) yesterday :embarrassed smiley: - they're obsessive very helpful with the spoilers over there). I adored, yes ADORED, the heartfelt declarations of love going on between everyone in the cabin, Izzy's hysterically apologetic phone call to Karl, and Jannelle's freaky vision of Dylan making a sandwich in the kitchen JUST AT THE EXACT MOMENT HE THINKS HE'S GOING TO DIE AND IS REALISING HE LOVES HER. And then when they were in the 'sea' (which looked suspiciously like a dark swimming pool with a lot of smoke and a wave machine) and it was all 'ALEEEEEEEEX!' and 'SKYYYYYYYYY!' but no one replied. Then Connor and Serena re-enacting Titanic with 'Co-o-o-n-ner I'm s-s-s-s-ooo co-o-ol-d'. 'I promise I'll never let go, Serena'.... T'was fantastic. Oh - and how lovely was it of the bomber to provide a large digital display counting down the hours until the explosion? If only real life bombers are so considerate to onlookers. And it was great how Serena got her ticket about 12 minutes before leaving but no problem, she just reached into her wardrobe and pulled out the 40s outfit she made earlier. I loved also how even though they were making one of their biggest EVER episodes, they were still reluctant to use up too much of the budget, so one minute they were in the air the next they were in the water. No planes were destroyed in the making of this programme.

There's so much good stuff to come on Neighbours. Connor and Dylan FAKE THEIR OWN DEATHS. Such a genius idea (from the script writers, not Connor and Dylan). Harold goes a big craaaaazy and attempts to murder Paul. Harold! An attempted murder!?!?!? If my grandpa was still alive he would've been horrified at that news. But no wonder. First Kerry, then Madge, now HIS ENTIRE FAMILY. Especially since it was him freely handing out tickets of DEATH that led to them being on the plane in the first place. And who is the bomber? My money's on Elle. She seems a bit fucking mental to me, what with her obsession with her dad and drugging Izzy. She could hardly be described as stable, but how the hell would she know how to put together a bomb? I know you can find out anything online these days (apparently) but where would she keep it until it was needed? Where would she make it? I'm sure Paul would've noticed if she was up in her room experimenting with explosives. Maybe she has friends in the wrong places though. We don't know very much about her. I can't wait to find out for sure but even the Neighbours forum people don't know yet so looks like I'll be waiting a while.

Keep up the fantastic work, Neighbours!

London's Calling

When I move to London, no one will know me and I won't know anyone. I'll be starting over. Anonymous, a stranger. There will be no one who has expectations of me, no one who thinks they know me already. It'll be a new chance. I can be who I want to be. I think it will be liberating, to be free of expectations. It will be good, and I will be better. And different. I'll definitely be different. I hope I'm less afraid of being alone. Or less bothered by being alone, at least. I imagine in London that it'll be OK to go to the cinema on my own. I've never done that before. I can't wait. I'll be less defined by who my friends are. Because I won't have any friends. Ha ha. To start off with, anyway. It'll be a completely new beginning. I am unbelievably excited, but also terrified.

I can be anyone in London. Anyone I choose.

Japanese IQ Test

This drove my crazy. Apparently everyone saw this months ago but no one thought to email it to me while I was out the country so I'm only just catching up.

Trouble

The total amount of my debt (excluding student loans) currently stands at...

£6056.45

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Chocolate. Music. Shopping.

I had a silly new year resolution plan thingy to eat healthily. Last week I even briefly considered detoxing after Grazia almost convinced my of the benefits. But for now, I've decided my stress levels are high enough and so there is no need to add to it by attempting to give up chocolate. Chocolate, music, and online shopping are literally the only things that get me through uni and I'd probably have dropped out half way through first year if I didn't have them to guide me and cheer me up in my darkest moments. Or started smoking.

The library's doing my head in? I better take a walk down to the cafe and pick up a Flake Dipped and some Walkers smoky bacon and I'll feel all refreshed and chilled out.

I can't think of anything more to write? I'll pre-order the Arctic Monkeys album on Play and it'll all be OK again.

Aaargh the stress is driving me crazy! I'll put my head on the desk, close my eyes, and turn Regina Spektor on my iPod for instant calm.

I'm proud of myself for writing 500 more words? I'll find a new pair of boots on eBay to congratulate myself.

It's lunchtime but I don't have time to stop working? A Creme Egg is all I need.

I'm on the train home after an 8 hour study day squashed between an obese woman and a smelly old man with a baby crying at the other side of the carriage? Earphones in, Be Your Own Pet turned up full volume. Bliss.

Maybe it's not too healthy for my overdraft or my waistline but at least I'll have a degree, right? The acknowledgement section of my dissertation (assuming it ever gets finished) will definitely include a line of thanks to chocolate, shopping and music. That's what's getting me through this a lot more than anything else is.

Isn't She Lovely?

A girl who was sitting beside me in the library earlier today offered my a bit of her Cadbury's Caramel for no reason, without me asking and even without me staring at it longingly while she unwrapped it. I think it might've been because I looked so stressed. How nice is that? Of course, I said no thanks even though really I was dying for a bit.

Considerations

The library was really quiet and I was sitting a few seats along from some guy I don't know. Everything was absolutely silent until we both sneezed at exactly the same time. I wanted to laugh but to do that I would've had to look over at him to include him in the joke, and smile knowingly at him as if we'd just shared a 'moment', which would've seemed like I fancied him or was just so desperate for friends that I was all set to form a relationship based on a sneeze. If I laughed and didn't look over at him it would just be rude. So I didn't laugh. Instead I just continued staring at my computer screen as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But then he laughed and kind of glanced over at me very quickly then looked away again. That made me want to laugh even more but I'd left it too long by that point and I didn't want him to know I'd been holding my laugh in because why would I hold my laugh in if something was funny? Or he might think that I was only laughing because he was laughing which again would make it look like I fancied him or that I was faking my laugh and didn't actually see what was funny. But by not laughing I was definitely making myself look like I was Not Amused and therefore boring and crap and 'please don't distract me from my work'-ish. And by the time I'd considered all of that it was far too late to start laughing and I'd ruined it all.

Honda Widow

This Honda forum post shocked me to the core. And I am unshockable, I tell you.

Read to at least the end of page 3 ;)

La La Library

It's Saturday and I'm in the library. Not exactly ideal, is it? But when you've turned into an insomniac things are rarely ideal, as I'm finding out.

The last few nights have been spent pacing around the house, browsing forums, eating Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, cleaning up cat sick, watching Baywatch reruns, writing in my notebook, or just lying in darkness with my eyes closed praying for sleep to take me away. It's worrying because even my no fail sleep strategy - a combination of a Nytol one-a-night plus Pete Doherty acoustic on my iPod, my miracle saviour - has started to let me down. Bastard. I may have to start considering taking two one-a-nights at at time. Which is clearly bad, or else they wouldn't have made such an effort to remove any possible doubt over the recommended dose. Nytol one-a-night. What a rebel.

So anyway, my sleep problems meant I was asleep until 3:30pm most of last week. Yes, that's THREE THIRTY IN THE AFTERNOON. That pretty much fucked up my plan for working on my dissertation for 3 whole no-breaks days which has led to me being in the library on a Saturday afternoon. I've been here for hours and I will be here for hours. I feel sorry for myself although I'm aware that it's all my fault. I hate all the people in the library. A heavy breather sat beside me for about 45 minutes and I nearly had to move. Every breath he took I could hear him exhaling through his nose and it just about drove me insane. I thought sniffers were bad but this guy took irritating library neighbours to a new level. He's gone now, so it's safe to write about him. I went to take some books out at one point to get away from him, and was served by the flabbiest woman I've ever seen, who seemed to think it's OK to wear a white top that doesn't even cover her belly button with her fat belly flopping out over the waistband of her one size too small black trousers, and a three sizes too small bra with a cup that cuts across her nipples and makes her look like she has four breasts. And this woman is at her work, which makes it even worse. I was so offended by the sight that I couldn't even bring myself to make eye contact with her. Cover yourself up, woman.

Maybe I should get back to work, if I want to get home in time for Celebrity Big Brother.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy

I can do this.

I can write a good dissertation.

I deserve a good degree.

I can work hard.

I can do it.

If I put my mind to it and concentrate, I will be able to do it.

One day this will all be over.

I am good enough.

I am capable.

I like it wild and crazy and out of control

With series 2 of Desperate Housewives starting on Wednesday, get in the mood by finding out which housewife you are.

I am Edie. (In my dreams).

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the places and moments that take our breath away

I remember talkin to A when we were both in our first year at uni about careers and what we'd do after graduation. These words actually came out of my mouth: 'I mean, I don't want to travel or anything like that. I just want to go straight into a good job. What's the point in wasting time?'. Oh, how we change. I can't pinpoint exactly what made me change my mind, but it was a series of conversations with different people, I think, and hearing stories of other peoples' summers working in ice cream shops on Bondi Beach and doing Camp America. Now, travel and experiencing new things is without a doubt my top priority in life.

Since I opened my eyes to the rest of the world, money (a lack of) and uni has stopped me doing as much as I would have liked. However, the last two summers have been wonderfully amazing and I have memories that I will treasure forever of doing things that I could never have imagined doing. I never would've thought I'd one day say the phrase 'Guys? I'm just going to unplug the fridge so I can boil water for my brownie mix, OK?', or that I'd see the benefits of spending a night on a Greyhound bus ('Hooray! We won't have to pay for accommodation tonight'), or even that I'd start to crave Thai food every day. Being back at uni and having exams and my dissertation and the rain and the parents and all the crap that goes with living here and having this life, it makes me so sad and so desperate to leave.

I miss travelling so much. Little things come back to me every single day, memories pop into my head when I'm watching TV or when I'm in Tesco or in an exam and actually, those thoughts are the only things that make me smile some days. Today I laughed almost hysterically because the phrase 'compression sack' suddenly sprung to mind. The whole summer we carried all of our dirty washing around in one of those sacks, strapped to the outside of our backpacks. Remembering the sound pedestrian crossings make in Australia cheers me up. I wish I could walk down the street right now and smell durians or incense around every corner, but I can remember exactly what it was like. I truly did have the best time of my entire life last summer. Packing my stuff into a backpack and disappearing for 3 months was the best thing I have ever done and I can't wait until I can do it again.

It's the things that are different about life when you're living out of a bag and changing place every few days that I love. Things like never having any clean underwear and the pure joy you feel when you find an unworn thong stuffed at the bottom of your backpack. Going for days without washing your hair and sometimes without ever getting out of the clothes you're wearing. It's the randomness of the things that happen, that are just the opposite of anything that would ever happen here. It wasn't just about the places we went, it was about the journeys we went on to get there. Buying a ticket and hoping you know the destination but having no idea how you're going to get there was something we did regularly. I learned to go with the flow, to follow the crowd and not worry about what was going to happen next. Because whatever did happen, it was going to be an adventure.

I just miss it. I miss it so much. I miss seeing new things every day, being new places every day, meeting new people every day. Last summer changed me. It made me better. It made me believe in myself and what I can do. I used to be too embarrassed to sit in a cafe on my own. Now I'm planning to move to London by myself. Travelling is just the most incredible thing to do and I want to be a traveller for the rest of my life.

Deal or No Deal

How absolutely fantastic is Deal or No Deal? Who would've predicted Noel Edmonds would ever be back hosting such quality TV?


I adore how they all take it so seriously. News just in, guys: it's a game of chance. My favourites are the contestants who study every game that's been played so far and then go in with a carefully constructed 'strategy' that they're sure is going to take them straight to the big one - the £250,000. They must spend hours working it out. There was one guy who took in a whole notebook full of complicated diagrams and coloured boxes and probabilities. He still ended up winning an average amount. Noel really works at increasing the tension with all the pacing and dramatic pauses, and the heartbeat music is just genius. My favourite bit is when he's on the phone to the banker. It's hysterical but so cheesy. I love how the contestants are all the best of friends and they say things like 'I love you, Carol, so I hope it's small' when they've probably known each other for about a week at most.

Despite it's complete crapness, I am addicted and watch it every day.

Play it online here.

Vote Preston

Tomorrow, I'm going to lie on the sofa and watch DVDs and daytime TV all day. Although if I feel like it I may take the boy dog for a walk after Neighbours.

It is going to be heaven.

(Shhhhhh! There's no need to remind me that on Thursday it will be back to work)

Inadequate

Other students scare me. I feel like every single one of them is better than me and cleverer than me and they're all going to get a first and I'm going to fail. They sit in the 'social room' before an exam with the fucking book of highlighted notes they've prepared reading and reading and memorising and revising when they fucking know it all already. One girl today sat for 40 minutes solid writing essay plans over and over again, like she was in a trance. She wasn't even thinking about it, it was all just pouring out of the pen and onto the paper without her trying. I sit with them, glancing over my my small collection of hastily scribbled notes, trying to learn it all in the half an hour I have left before the exam. One girl made me feel better because I heard her talk about taking Pro Plus at 3am. She's my kind of person. I'm sure she still did better than me today. I am absolutely exhausted. It is 6:20pm and I have another exam in 15 hours, 40 minutes. And as it stands, I know fuck all. 15 hours to learn it. Can I do it? I have to.

I hate this. I honestly, absolutely, 100%, hate this. I can't wait until it's over.

Food, Glorious Food

^^ That is what I do under pressure. When the going gets tough, the tough goes to the 24 hour Tesco.

8 hours, 18 minutes until my exam.

It's not looking so good, is it? 8 hours 18 minutes to learn personality theory to 2:1 standard is wishful thinking. I hate all night cramming sessions. Pro Plus makes me fidgety and I eat constantly until I feel sick. There's a dartboard in this room and I keep getting up and aggressively throwing darts to break the tension and my arm is starting to hurt. Also I'm scared I break the darts because they keep slamming into the brick wall instead of hitting the bullseye. I'm not sitting on a proper chair and I can tell I'm going to have pains in my back tomorrow. Cramming all night makes me feel stupid and it makes me wish I'd been more sensible with my study plan (ha!) and it makes me vow that 'next time I won't be so unprepared!'. I've been saying that since my Standard Grades, 7 years and about 340 exams ago. The thing is, I'm not even that stressed out right now. I can tell because I haven't gone on an online shopping spree yet. I've had about 20 parcels from Play arrive in the last week thanks to my retail therapy needs.

I wish I had more crispy cakes. Four just aren't going to last me long enough (and I've already eaten two of them).