Je suis fatiguée

I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so very very tired. College is an exhausting experience, and it make me want to punch anyone who says that these are going to be the best years of my life right in the face.

Yeah fuck you person. These years suck, so if they're the best in my life then I'm completely fucked.

Personally, when I stop to think about it, I can't wait until my thirties. Cause hopefully at that point I'll have job, I won't have to deal with teachers, I'll be able to pay for my own stuff, and I won't have to deal with all this young adult angst bullshit.

I am so fucking tired right now.

"Enjoy your youth" I hear my mother cry. "Go out and socialise, be young, go to parties loosen up and live your life the way you supposed to (they way everyone thinks you should".

No. Fuck off.

I can't wait till I can have a grumpy old body that will match my grumpy old personality. Honestly I think I'm older than both my parents. Let me be grumpy in peace.

I'm so tired. I just want to not be tired anymore. I'm so so tired.

Noisy Neighbours

My neighbours are ridiculous. Actually horrifically ridiculously noisy.

They're probably lovely people. But I hate them sometimes. Them being noisy during the day would piss me off, but I could handle it, you know? But they make their noise from seven in the evening to between eleven and one in the morning.

One in the fucking morning. Fuck you neighbours. Fuck you very much.

Once they started a party at four in the morning. Let me repeat. All was quiet, I was asleep and then all of a sudden guests arrive at my neighbours and they start to have a fucking party.

Are. You. Shitting. Me.

And they leave the TV on, and listen to music all night, and it's ridiculous. Just ridiculous. I have school man. My flat mate has school. We need to sleep so as to function in the mornings.

We had to go and see them at some point. We had to go up and say ''listen guys, listening to loud music and having freaking parties after ten in the evening on week nights is not cool. Please stop. For the love of all things holy, stop''.

They haven't stopped but at least they've toned it down a bit. Usually at eleven they turn off the music, and they're only obnoxiously noisy on the weekends.

My neighbours make me really angry sometimes. I just want to sleep in peace man. Is that really to much to ask?

But on a less angry note this has made me discover the magic of earplugs. Like I've slept with them Every night for a year. They're great. They were a bit uncomfortable at first, but I got used to them. You can get used to anything really.

Dealing with noisy neighbours. Wow. I guess I a grown up now. Shit.

Bitter Disappointment

I get optimistic every now and again. I start to think that life isn't so bad, it's not so hard. I convince myself that all my issues and fuck ups are all just products of my imagination. I pretend to believe all that and sometimes it feels true.

And then life happens.

Usually what happens is that I go back home. And it's not the same as I imagined it would be in my head. 

I'm not making sense. Sorry.

I remember things in a certain way. I make them beautiful, and I latch on to those memories. Like the village where I grew up. I transformed it into some kind of wonderland and so whenever I go back there's always this vague sense of disappointment. It's like my brain is giving out to the village, like it's saying "this isn't what you're supposed to be. You're supposed to be perfect".

And obviously it's not. I mean why would it be. It's a village, a place where people live and it's changed since I lived there. But I still keep getting disappointed.

It's silly really. I'm not sure why I do it.

These days it's my parents that disappoint me. I have an image of my relationship with them, of what I used to feel with them. I used to feel safe, and loved, and cared for. I don't get that vibe from them anymore. I haven't in a while. 

My brother is my Dads favourite. My sister is my Mums. This isn't me feeling sorry for myself, this is just fact.

My Dad loves me, but doesn't seem to know how to show me, and my Mum loves me too but from the way she acts you wouldn't think it sometimes. She gives the impression that she doesn't give a shit about me. Which is a little hurtful, I'll be honest.

I come home from school, or from holidays, or whatever, and I'll get my hopes up. I'll think "maybe Dad will give me a hug. Maybe Mum will listen to me when I talk, instead of just ignoring me".

It usually takes five minutes max before I know it's not going to happen, and then I have to leave the room. Disappointment is a bitter thing, and it's hard to swallow.

Very few people have not disappointed me. I think that's why I like cats better. And Teddy bears. Velvet and Bob have yet to disappoint.

(And Tamar. I love you for that.)

Friends having babies

I am twenty years old. And this year not one, but two (TWO) of my old school friends got pregnant.

What the fucking shit.

Seriously it's madness. Like first I get a text message from Friend number one (lets call her P) and I am understandably surprised. But then not even a week later I'm told that friend number 2 (who I will call M) was also pregnant.

Guys. Stop. You're my age, you can't have kids. I am a kid.

It's times like these where I remember that, technically speaking, I am in fact a grown up. I keep forgetting that little detail. Like me? An adult? No no I'm fourteen and a baby.

So yeah. Babies. Wow.

P and M both had girls by the way. P's baby is adorable, and I haven't seen M's small child yet.

And I mean they're both very happy with their babies, and I'm very happy for them cause they're happy you know?

No one is miserable is what I mean.

It's just that I thought I had at least another ten years before I had friends who were mothers and also my age. Like this situation feels like it happened a little bit ahead of schedule.

You can't stop life from happening I guess. 

Massive dork losers

I am not a cool person. I never was, and chances are I never will be. I've always been a bit of a dork, a bit of a loser.

I mean looking back on myself between the ages of twelve and fifteen it's a little hard not to cringe. I mean I had the braces, the ugly glasses, the not very fashionable clothes, and a frankly dreadful taste in shoes.

I like to think that I have improved on those fronts despite remaining a loser. But I mean seeing as yesterday and today I made my hair up like Lagertha and Aslaug from Vikings, I think we can all agree on the fact that I'm not exactly the coolest cat on this street.

Whatever. My hair looks awesome today, I don't care. Most of the time.

When I'm on my own surrounded by people who are cool, and who have been tricked into believing that I'm a fully functional human being that could possibly be allowed to hang out with them, it's not so fun.

"So Chloe what do you like to do with your time off ? "

"Oh you know, nothing special, I like to sit at home in the dark with my teddy bears and my cat watching way too many TV shows and rereading Harry Potter for the 800th time"

But when I'm with friends it's awesome. Cause my friends are also fucking dorks. All of the them. Seriously. Some of them are very good at camouflaging themselves, but trust me, they're dorks.

 Losers, the lot of them. God bless.

So yeah. I'm a loser. It's not so bad. I'm pretty well surrounded. And besides, being cool always seemed pretty overrated.

Tomorrow will be kinder

I get these moods where nothing feels real. Where I don't feel sad, or happy, or angry, I just feel empty and I also kind of feel like I'm floating.

Those are days where there is virtually nothing to do with me. The best solution is to abandon me in my room with the Internet and Bob (you know my dolphin teddy) , and maybe a comfort book (meaning Harry Potter, preferably one of the three first ones. Prisoner of Askaban is my favourite).

Leave me there, let me mope (as my mother would call it) and then let me sleep it off. I'm usually better the next day. If I'm not then repeat.

When I'm in my bed I feel warm, and safe, and protected. My mum and Granny have both recently expressed concern over how much time I spend in my room, but I like my room. It's safe there. No one can hurt me when I'm in my room under my blankets. With Bob. Obviously.

Admittedly I get lonely sometimes. But not often enough to make me want to get out. I'm not an extrovert, and not at ease with large groups of people. And I like being alone sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder if my mother thinks I'll walk out someday and then come back with a boy. Or with a girl. 

And I wonder if she thinks that the reason I want to stay single is because I'm shy or something. 

And then I wonder how I might have to explain myself one day. After all I'm only twenty, being single is hardly unusual. But maybe when I'm older.

And I'm scared that I might get lonely. But not scared enough.

The last time I tried to hint at this subject with my mum, she told me that she thought I was protesting a bit too much about never wanting a partner.

I replied that if I protest so much it's only because no one is listening.

I still don't know what I'm doing

I forgot to write here again. I just kind of lost all motivation, all will to keep trying. I mean let's be honest here. I am not the most interesting person out there, and I don't have all that much to say.

But you know I did start this thing for a reason. And there are two or three people I know who do read my ramblings and who, on different occasions, have asked me to look after my blog a bit more.

So here I am. Writing on my blog. Check me out.

I am on holidays after all, it's not as if I don't have time. I mean I literally just spent my entire day in bed watching "Orange is the New Black" and "Firefly". My mother is probably going mental cause I have no social life and all I do is "mope" around the house.

I have a job this time though, so unlike last summer she can't guilt trip me about it. I take my victory's where I can get them.

Shit, it's february

So I haven't written anything here since September. Sorry. I've been busy. I'm still busy really, but my cousin just asked for my blog and I realised just how long it's been since I've checked it myself.

Anyway, oops.

I've been really busy with college. I'm trying to get it right this time, and I'm terrified of failing again. I'm not sure what I'd do. Cry I suppose.

I go to class, come home, work, eat, sleep and start again from the top. Doesn't leave much time for recreation and so when I do have time to myself I like to do stuff that doesn't demand any work on my part.

Writing demands work, unfortunately.

In any case I think I'll try and write again. Not as often as I did though. I definitely don't have time for that. But maybe once of twice a week. Or month.

We'll see.

Headache no more

My headache (the one I had constantly for about a week), as almost completely gone. I still get a little ache if I'm in front of the computer too long, but I just feel so much better man.

I hate feeling sick, although I guess everyone does really.

Inspiration

There are some days when I have three separate ideas for a story all at once, and then there are days when I have no ideas at all. The problem is in both situations I end up not writing anything at all.

If I have too many ideas, well then I can't decide and so I daydream about them instead, one after the other. And if I have no ideas well it's easy enough to understand how I might not write then, isn't it?

There doesn't seem to be any middle ground, or at least there isn't much of it.

Procrastineuse professionnelle

Monday is the worst day of the week, I'm pretty sure this is common knowledge. I mean I don't know anyone who gets up on Monday morning and goes "Yes! I have to work now! TGIM".

If I ever met someone like think I would be very afraid.

And it just so happens that Monday is my longest day in terms of how many hours of class I have (at least for the moment), and it's also the day where I have my least favourite class.

Jurisdictional Institutions.

Even the name turns my brain to mulch. Anyway I survived the lesson (barely) and I've been at home for three hours staring at the blank piece of paper I'm supposed to be preparing my notes with.

Basically instead of working I've been messing around on the Internet and daydreaming. And the longer I wait until I actually start working, the later I'll be finished. Which means I might end up working when it's late and I hate that. And yet, here I am, writing this instead of getting my shit together and just finished the blasted work.

 Procrastination is an evil thing indeed.

Clare is a champion

My Irish side of the family is sport obsessed. Wait. Actually no so is my french side.

Ok so my entire family is sports obsessed. But the French side is mostly obsessed with kayaking whereas on the Irish side it's more like "Woo Rugby! Woo Hurling!", and whatnot.

Anyways so my family and I come from the magical county of Clare. And today Clare won the all Ireland championship (at least that's what I think it's called).

Everyone I know from Ireland pretty much went mental. And I'm just left standing here feeling pleased but quite bemused too.

I have no idea what we've won, how we've won, or why it's so special?

I suck at sports. I can't do sports and I can't follow it either. The only sport I can get mildly into is rugby (I'm not entirely sure why either), everything else is all the same to me.

But sshh don't tell my family they'll be angry with me...

Might as well celebrate anyway, I mean even if I'm completely lost and have not the slightest clue what going on, it's as good an excuse to be happy as anything else.

Up the banner?

Locking up

I moved in with one of my best friends this year, and we've been living together in our apartment for about a month now. This weekend she went home, and I didn't and so I spent my very first weekend alone in this apartment.

I was a lot more nervous than I thought I would be. In the day time it was fine, it wasn't that different than usual really, cause I could just imagine that my friend was in class or something.

When night fell it wasn't so easy. I guess I don't feel as safe when I'm sleeping in a house alone. I mean it's the same when I'm alone at my mums or at my dads, except that I'm more used to it I guess.

In any case I ended up doing a lot of stuff to make myself feel safe enough to sleep. And by stuff I mean I shut all the doors in the place (the only reason I didn't lock them is because I don't have a key), double locked the front door, made sure all our windows were closed, and then I locked myself in my bedroom (I have key for my bedroom).

And then I slept just fine. It's funny though, how you sometimes feel safer when you're in a smaller space? It's like you're in control of that space and all is well. I like that.

Downloading

I'm trying to download a TV show on itune and it's taking forever. Seriously it's ridiculous. It shouldn't take all day for a tv show to go from itunes to my computer.

At least I have nothing better to do anyway.

Headaches

I've had a headache for four fucking days.

Four. Long. Days.

It's not a real headache, like I'm not in any real pain, it's just a tension headache. It certainly isn't helped by the fact that every morning by the fact that I spend every morning in class typing out on my computer screen.

I'm just tired man. Tired and sick.

Moving on

I came home to my mothers house the day before last, after spending a little over a week at my apartment with my friend.

It didn't feel very welcoming.

It's a strange feeling, kind of like being out of place. A feeling of not quite belonging. I don't think I belong here anymore. Which is a little sad.

But maybe it's a good thing too. Maybe it means I'm finally ready to go out into the big bad world, and actually face it without crying for my mothers arms and my fathers protection.

I'm not sure I am quite ready though. I'm certainly readier than I was last year, but I don't think I've gotten to the point where I can claim that I'm ready for independence yet. I'm still very afraid, and I still need someone to hold my hand.

Maybe I've just changed the hands that I'm holding.

I have a cousin who inspires me to believe that I can be great, a friend who lets me hold her hand, and another who tells me what I need to hear when I need to hear it.

So powers that used to belong to my parents, belong to those three friends now.

And I'm glad because I love them. But I'm sad because I miss my parents. Sometimes I miss them when they're right there in front of me. They're starting to feel so distant and I think that the only cure is to leave.

I don't know. I hope I will someday. In the meantime I have my friends, my books and my faith. And Bob, no one must ever forget Bob.

Working hard

I started class Monday, that is to say, yesterday. It went pretty well actually. I didn't know anyone but I managed to start talking to someone and now we sit together.

The classes are interesting enough, but I'm a little bored for the moment because this is all stuff that I've already done.

I have, however, made an important resolution.

I am not going to wait until the mast minute to study and work on my notes like I did last year. No damn way, I am not doing that again.

So after class I'm going to make my revision papers immediately, because it's a lot easier to condense four pages every day, than to do forty, or even fifty (and that's per subject) in less than two weeks.

I just really hope I keep the rhythm, as it is, after all, only the beginning. Woopi.

"Do you have time to speak of our Lord and Saviour?"

Yesterday I was just chilling with my friend and house mate in our apartment, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Assuming it was our friend who had come early we both went to open the door only to discover that it was, in fact, not her. Oh no.

It was two very nice looking ladies who asked us if they could ask us a few questions. We then assumed they were doing some kind of survey and agreed.

They were not doing a survey.

They asked us what we thought the cause of all suffering was (I answered war because I got embarrassed by the sudden pause of talking), and then one of them noticed that I was wearing a cross and asked me if I was religious.

Still not getting what on earth was going on I answered yes.

She then zeroed in on me, showing me her pamplets and quoting the Bible. She said a lot of stuff about salvation and "the meek shall inherit the earth", etc.

They then said goodbye, telling us that they might come by in a few weeks after we had read the pamplets in case we were interested.

Only after they had left did I read the title on the pamplets that I had been handed by the nice but slightly pushy lady.

Yeah they were Jehovahs Witenesses. Oops.

P.S

I was meant to have my first day of class today, but it turns out I actually start next monday. So this morning instead of having to get up and concentrate, I got to sleep in and then watch a movie.

Some days are just a pleasure to live.

Writing letters

I love writing letters. I mean I love emails and text messages just as much as the next person, but there's just something more special about getting an actual paper letter.

Usually when I write a letter it's a spoof letter, because for giving actual important news email is just easier. But funny joke letters are always brilliant. At least I try to make them funny. My humour isn't always top quality. But hey I try!

I sent a letter today, except that it was an actual proper letter. I just felt like writing a real letter to my uncle who lives in America. Every now and again I give him some news via email, and I don't know I just thought that maybe an actual letter might be more fun. I mean it's different, isn't it?

I hope I don't come off as crazy or anything. Just because I'd love it if people sent me letters doesn't mean that's the case for everyone.

In any case it's done now. It's sent, and I don't regret it. I'm not sure how long it takes for a letter to go from France to the States though. I'll probably forget I ever did it and then get confused when/if he ever answers.

Oh well.