i do it for the thugs & the mother fuckin' gangstas

There ain't no therapy like retail therapy! Ayyyy!! Haha no but seriously. These necklaces were a super-score, and I'm feeling the Rachel Zoe aesthetic (devilishly skinny, unconcerned and a perfect monotone with a tendency for nasally extending vowel sounds.) $2 each from Dotti.

"The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same."

I woke up this morning feeling just as shit as I did before bed. Sure, I was rested and it wasn't 2am and I wasn't crying anymore. How much does that really matter when you've had one of those nights you've been dreading, where truths came out and more than one person cried and instead of epiphanies all you're left with is doubt seeping into everything. Doubt, and all the progress you think you've made is gone, and all there is, in the end, is a girl who fucks up everything.

I hope I'm not deluded in thinking that I may be alright for this exam, if I keep up the cramming. Then sixteen glorious days in which to study health microbiology (read: Staph, Toxoplasmosis, Giardia & the microbiota of the oral cavity, tres fascinating!!) and MAOR110 then GET BLAZED, pack my shit, move houses and GO HOME for five days before hitting up WELLINGTON, watch people get married, CELEBRATE TURNING 21, hang out with dee & photowhore the fuck out of Wellington (oh, this city, it holds fast in the chambers of my heart!) before going home again and working two jobs (transient stage) before settling back into Birkies & croissants and getting slight poisoning from the Link bus exhaust and selling shoooooooes & impulse shopping in my breaks.

I am meant to be writing essays for virology, full of protein names & virus mechanisms. The boys I study with find it enthralling, the girls, not so much. I ended up in an impromptu study group at the science library this weekend, which was fun/stressful/laced with donuts, KFC + lots of giggles.

I also figured out that the iTunes library on my laptop is just a copy of my Music folder and is therefore a waste 0f 5gb of space :/ And in an ill-thought out move I just deleted my iTunes library, changed my preferences & am re-adding all my music. I couldn't find a way around it! So there goes all my play counts, which I was strangely fond of. But yeah, in other news I found three copies of the Wicked OBC sitting on my laptop hard drive, so I guess the deleting was good in that way, highlighting all doubling/tripling up I do by accident when I DON'T DELETE SHIT OUT OF MY DOWNLOADS FOLDER ASAP GODDAMN.

Times like this I really miss MediaMonkey, which was a fucking demon at figuring out where I had two copies of a song and getting rid of it, whereas iTunes is like 'Aw, chill bitch, the more the merrier', completely missing the fact that I am particularly OCD about my pretty little music collection being uh, pretty, and streamlined. Also, the B-side for the Juno soundtrack is called 'Juno B Sides: The Almost Adopted Songs' which made me grin pretty wide, y'all.

Shaun and I are gonna go halves on an external hard drive, and I will finally be able to scrapbook my music, in a way, as well as stockpile TV shows. I'm pissed at his internet, the Pushing Daisies soundtrack had 1mb left and it disconnected, merde!

I went to the gym this morning and was reading a Cleo where they sent these chicks on exercise bootcamp to lose a ton of weight and then they loved themselves and all was well; all very aspirational, until I stopped skim-reading and caught that these girls were sent to the gym a minimum of four times a week. FOUR.TIMES.A.WEEK. Where in God's green Earth are you going to find the time to go to the gym AT LEAST four times a week for between 60-90 minutes at a stretch? Fucking ridic.

I'm procrastinating, but considering I spent twelve goddamn hours at the library battling goddamn virus replication and viroid replication and host defence evasion and all that shit, I think it's amazing I'm just procrastinating and not uh, en route to Mexico to buy a chihuahua and live in bliss drinking margaritas and organizing drug smugglers.

Oh, and Glee? I love you desperately, but stop trying to make Myspace happen. It's not gonna happen.

waist deep in thoughts of you

This is a good song, chums. What, you ask, has Char been up to today?

I woke up at eight, squirmed around in bed and read a trashy novel til quarter to, got dressed in the biggest tumble & rush and headed off to one of my favourite places in university - the science library. It has no pretensions towards being cutely retro or terrifyingly futuristic and the people who inhabit hold a place in the inner chambers of my heart because they speak to the geek who lives inside me. You don't come here to socialize, or because it's a pretty place to study or even because it's particularly comfortable; you come here because it's so easy to get inside your textbook and spend the day all cosied up with the inner workings of virus replication. And if you're really lucky, like me, you end up with three like-minded cronies and halve the work you have to do by sharing essay prep. Yep, in the course of the day, in twelve hours, I've managed to collect notes on six essays. SIX! And I still have that unopened Pocket Rocket staring at me from the tabletop. (Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was called Pocket Rocket and I was in love with two boys whose names both started with a J and I was fifteen and fearless.)

I'm feeling anxious about stuff at my flat again lately, but am determined to not worry about it.

halo halo halo

Tired. Strangely anxious. Eyeing up the V Pocket Rocket I scored from a promo girl on the walk from Shaun's to med library and trying to calm myself down. The two holes in the arm of my cardigan are making me feel better, funnily enough. I'm uh, not studying as much as I should be. Ruh roh.

I just feel like I haven't vented in ages. And i don't know whether it's stress of not, but I'm not vocalizing things. And I'm being really honest. Which probably isn't a bad thing but I don't internalize what I usually internalize, and vice versa.

I hang with the micro kids, I hang with Shaun. Pretty much. And I do feel guilty for not spending time with my flatmates but I don't think I should.

This cheers me up. Go on, give it a listen.

sit down, shut up and hear me

I'm here. I'm here and I can see the finish line.

I'm exhausted. I am working so hard, I have never worked this hard or wanted this so badly. And it terrifies me to say this out loud, say it at all, but here it is. I am so close, and I want this. I want it so much, and if I don't get it, I will try as hard as I can not to let it break me, but I'm not sure I could do it.

All along I've wanted not to want things, so when I didn't end up getting them I wouldn't feel like a failure. And now events are in motion. Applications have been filled in, signed off, panicked over and it seems, at twenty, I am finally about to prove myself; I've finally given in and given myself a chance.

And I am terrified, and I am so close, and I am desperate. Please, just let me get this.