Fabuleux destin de Gabrielle

gangster music and dissertations

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 14:09:56 +0100

I haven't wrote for quite a long time, been too busy with my exams and things. That is the joy of being in my final year. I have been writing to publishers being a smidge away from begging for a job.

Actually, I am becoming quite embittered about having to leave in a few months and enter the real world. It annoys me when people don't experiance the full uni experience and instead moan about it. I honestly have loved uni and have got drunk with the best of them. That is proberely why I have kidney problems now. At this actual moment, I am not even letting my dissertation get me down. I am writing it while bopping to gangster music in the library.

My third year has been pretty strange. Basically, I had this one group of friends from the first year but for one particular reason have drifted away from them and I think that it was a blessing in disguise. I think I have changed so much from my first year that I simply am not that person anymore and also have found amazing best friends this year.

Anyway, my weekend was good. My sweetheart came down and we went to a party on saterday night and I got riduculously drunk but not as drunk as him. I have just seen the photographs that I don't even remember people taking and they are quite amusing. God knows that I was doing with that door.....

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Me and John Keats

Sat, 10 Nov 2007 13:29:47 +0100

Autumn is upon us once more. I love this season. Everyone complains that it's the season of death but I think that its more about hope. I take comfort in the idea tha after I die, there will be spring again. Life will continue it's cycle.

Yesterday before my lecture, I had to read "Ode to Autumn" by Keats and while reading it, I cried. I haven't done that for years. Doing an English Degree, you learn to become immune to books. It kills off any passion you have for the subject since you normally have to get through reading 4 books a week.

When I was about 14, I got into reading. Although, I have read since as long as what I can remeber, (My dad used to joke that I would resort to reading the back of a crisps packet if I had nothing else to read.) However, when I was 14, I matured to reading all the "great classics" like Dickens, Bronte, Austin and after each book, I would normally cry. Even if they had a happy ending, I suppose I was crying through the sheer beauty of it. The fact that there was hope out there. There had been someone who could craft such artistry in a world that sometimes seemed so empty.
When I was about 16, I fell in love with romanticism. It seemed like it spoke to me about all these ideas that I have about the universe. My passion for the romantic was held by a certain William Blake who I still adore and hold up as a hero.

Nowadays, when I read something, I normally find myself analysing the sentence struture or stanza length.I felt so joyous at my tears yesterday, I thought that this demanding degree had destroyed my love of literature but thankfully, maybe not.

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Cold hands / Warm heart

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 15:52:45 +0100

I am in the library (aka as my second home at the moment.)

My hands are seriously cold as well. Why we need air conditioning in the middle of winter is beyond me, but thats beaucracy for you. So i am sitting here in a punk t shirt, torn jeans a bit chunky scarf and my red hat. I thought that the coat might be over-doing it a bit.

At the moment, I offically don't have a life. I haven't had a night out since monday and I'm already feeling the pinch.It's quite sad that I need other people/drink/music for entertainment and can't just sit and watch TV.

I have basketball training tonight which I normally like. It involves running around like crazy for half an hour, learning some moves to use in a game, (which I forget the moment that we start playing and instead run around screaming "I'm free!pass to meeeeeeeee!!") and shooting the hoop (which I miss despite being 10 feet taller than other girls.)However, I always feel better after and it's justification for eating enough chocolate to feed the Vicar of Dibly.

I'm not going tonight because I have a bad cold ( proberely result of the bloody air conditioning) and instead are going to mope about in my room still eating enough chocolate to feed the Vicar of Dibly but without the justification.

On other exciting news, The Byron essay is nearly done. I'm now over my word count and the entire thing is rubbish but it's still nearly done!
I was aiming on getting a 1st degree but highly doubt it now. I have put too much pressure on myself to have this perfect life. It's like a checklist in my head that I will never manage to complete.

Instead, I walk along in a bit of a daydream.

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That Phone Call

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 16:01:51 +0100

I am a bit scared of my phone at the moment. As pathetic as it seems, that rubbish bit of samsung technology is frightening.

I've been with my boyfriend for almost 3 years. Very long time when you are 20. Anyways, after coming up to my uni last week, we had the most almighty row after a party. He was completely in the wrong and understands this yet I just can't let it go. It's opened up such a huge can of worms that now whenever we talk on the phone, there's this huge elephant in the (mobile) room with us.It all comes down to this;

Should I stay with him?

Now, it wasn't like he cheated on me, or beat me but I just don't know whether in 5 yrs/10yrs time, it will all go down the pan and I will be thrown back in the dating game fun which I haven't been in since I was 17. Before, I was sure we would grow old together but now I'm so not sure.

I know I have blown it all out of proportion but I feel like at any moment, the glass floor of my life is going to break and cause me to start haemorrhaging everywhere and blood is a pain in the arse to get out of fabric.

So, as a result, I was ignoring most of his calls. His was calling me / my sister/my mum/my cat non stop for about 2 days. Finally, I was brave and answered and told him everything. Hence, another almighty row about trust this time and now he won't ring me and has been send scary texts about him having to think now.

In other news, I bought a bright red hat that makes me feel artistic and has inspired me to carry on with the dreaded Byron essay.

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The politics of the Library

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 12:39:28 +0100

I am having an torrid affair filled with passion.
This affair is with my Byron essay due in for a week's time.
All I do is think about it, dream about it and worry about my future with it.

Seeing as it is meant to be handed in a weeks time and if I am even 5 minuites late with it, I will FAIL ( in capital letters!) I am sitting in the library daydreaming out the window. As I look down the row, 15/20 students are doing exactly the same thing but if anyone came up to us, we would all proclaim that in fact, we are the most busiest people in the world and can't stop for a coffee now. Unless of course, if that person is our best friend or if we fancy them. If they are our best friend and we fancy them, then we would already be gone with not a backward glance out of the window.

Byron.......Byron is a funny character in English Lit. I am over my word limit despite not putting in a single quote from one of his amusing poetry. I am arguing that Byron was in fact the first rockstar who lived a lifestyle that would rival Pete Doherty.

This is my first Blog and yet, I am still going on about Byron.

Halloween/Bonfire night was good if not a little crazy, my bank balance has certainly had a bit of a scare. I have exactly £11 to live on for the next month and that must include food. Normally, I would ring up my mum and have a moan and pray that a few pounds enter into my bank account like magic but I have decided that this month, I am going to learn the hard way to stand on my own 2 feet. Even if I have been half starved and no longer pysically able to stand; mentally I will be there like a byronic hero of all students.

wish me luck.

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