Just as I was a few weeks ago, I’m in my homeland high on pills and getting better. There’s info on that at the end of this post because it’s less depressing that way (lol spoiler). In the meantime, things have been like this:
I am a baking god.
Baking is usually my little sister’s domain – super handy for the lazy fattie that is me. Alas, she’s not at home, so I was driven to trying it myself. Remember, last time I tried baking it ended in goopy chocolate chip cookies that tasted like popcorn (emphasis on the GOOP). This really isn’t my arena.
…And these are a garish shade of pink that are making my eyes bleed (not so bad in this photo, thanks to Photoshop), but it was part of a much-needed rebellion. Coloured icing is taboo in this household. I’ve always campaigned for it when people bake, only to be shot down. Homemade orange choc chip ice cream isn’t allowed to be dyed anything but orange, either. Do these people not realise how cool it’d be to be eating blue and tasting orange??
This is my new room.
Our new house will be finished in just over a month. Everyone always complains about how lazy builders are, but these guys are building an entire house in just six months (I thought it’d take a year, lolz). PEOPLE ARE GOING TO LIVE IN THIS, there is no rush. In the same amount of time I still haven’t been able to pick a paint colour for my room. Getting increasingly tempted to opt for glittery pink though, so someone needs to remind me that I’m 22 and not blonde enough to be Elle Woods.
All I know is that I want a cabinet to display my Lord of the Rings action figures (my youth was so rad). This would also give me an excuse to buy Altair and Ezio action figures too (shut uppppp). I will forever remain an eleven year old boy. Albeit one that challenges gender stereotypes with those pink walls, but still.
P.S. ~Someone~ will be relieved to know the wardrobe is inbuilt. You can see in the photo!
I’ve been studying Latin.
I can now study for more than an hour without getting tired, which is quite exciting when you’ve not been able to do that since March. Also my handwriting is atrocious, but I apologise for NOTHEEENG.
This is from Book 1 of Virgil’s Aeneid. It plagiarises the Odyssey as propaganda for Augustus, telling the origins of Rome: Aeneas escapes the fall of Troy to fulfil his great destiny of founding a city in Italy. His descendents would later continue this family tradition and found Rome. As his journey progresses he goes from being an selfish, impatient douche seeking glory (ala Greek heroes like Achilles and Odysseus) to a dutiful goody-good who actually thinks about the people around him (putting your country/gods/family before yourself is very Roman). Year 13 Classics, whoot!
My favourite part is when Aeneas’s comrades have been lost at sea for seven years after escaping the horrors of the Trojan war. They’ve just endured a storm where lots of ships have been crushed. Everyone is miserable and soggy and tired, so their inspiring noble leader Aeneas tries to comfort them by saying: ONE DAY WE’LL ALL LOOK BACK ON THIS AND LAUGH (“forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit“).
This cat has become a victim of my love.
The poor fluffy thing. We found her as a wee baby in a hedge in 1999. She has a broken meow-box and can only squeak – “EHHCK EEEEEKK” – unless there’s a special occasion, like announcing a caught bird, where she’ll manage a throaty warble that makes her sound like she’s drowning.
I spent hours with her yesterday, and keeping my parents updated on everything she was doing. There was a running commentary on her staring deep into a garden. What was she looking at? Is she about to pounce on something? WHAT IS GOING ON. It was quite anticlimatic when she decided that no, she wanted to go drink some milk.
Certainly I’m losing my mind. But in a totally different way this time.
On the state of my health
I have depression, hurr! ISN’T THIS UPLIFTING. It’s probably been around for about a year, just to make this news super cheery. But the medication’s working and every day I feel like I’ve just been accepted into Law all over again. A bubbly feeling inside my chest. While it didn’t take long for the CONSTANT MISERY part to vamoose (THIS POST IS SO MUCH FUN NOW), getting past the slump of not being able to do anything has taken a bit longer. I can now, however, do more without dreading how exhausted I’ll feel, or guessing how long it’ll take to recover. And I’d have to do this for things as simple as going to a lecture, cooking dinner, watching a movie with someone, or even just popping across the hall to visit a friend.
Some of my lecturers recommended withdrawing from this semester’s papers because I’ve missed so much work, and that’s what I’m doing. This means I’m going to be attempting Jurisprudence for a third time next year (HAHAHAHA), but I’m not worried cos I’m so delightfully medicated. Mmmm.
I’m taking on a lighter workload next semester – maybe two or three papers. I’m also going to do the things I’ve always wanted to but lacked the spoons for, which I think is quiiiite important for people seeking to be less crazy. I’m going to bake tons, learn piano, BE MORE SOCIAL (ffs), volunteer at places I’ve wanted to since last year (!), and I’m going to learn how to function normally again.
In short, my semester break has already started. Enjoy your exams! ;D
I straightened my hair. For kicks.
Alas, my hair takes a while to calm down from such trauma, and so, despairing at its thick fuzzy glory, I donned a hat before hurrying outside. I really can’t afford to miss anymore Classics lectures, hurrr.
Now I usually feel conspicuous enough with straight hair, but a hat as well? Overwhelmingly so! So my day was spent cringing and feeling wildly self-conscious. Hoping people weren’t thinking things like, “STRAIGHT HAIR? A HAT? WHAT MADNESS IS THIS. OMG WHAT WAS SHE THINKING.” I was eavesdropping for this even, and every time I heard someone laughing I was certain it was at me. Woe.
Throughout all this I was texting my friend (oh heyyyy~). She said nice things and asked for a photo. “If I haven’t died of shame by the end of the day, then sure!”
I’m sorry you can’t really see the hat properly, but I’m not persisting, aha! How can fashion bloggers can take photos of themselves without dying inside?
I should have made a background check before grabbing my camera: yes, I relapsed – I drink Coke again (it’s magnificent). And yes, that’s a can of frosting IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK, I LIKE BAKING OKAY. And yes, that’s a dinner plate; I had mince that was a week past its best-by date. It smelled unusual when I was cooking it, but as of yet I’m still alive. Gosh, I have lived through so much today.
You’ll be relieved to know that Classics was worth this stress, by the way! There were gladiators were fighting their huge penises which had turned into panthers.
(Cool story, bro.)
I am about to break three personal blog rules today (try to spot them!):
- Don’t apologise for, or mention the lack of updates. I detest blogs that start off “I’m sorry I haven’t posted for a while!”. Stop this.
- Don’t talk about physical insecurities. Though this is a life rule, not a blog rule as such. No one has really noticed your jiggly thighs – it’s okay. Besides, James May has a slightly paunchy belly and it is adorable. Flaws are beautiful.
- Your blog is not a personal journal. I don’t need another one. Check out that username I actually spent money to get!
And this is not a rule, but I’m doing it anyway: there are going to be lots of them today. Someone asked for a new post, so you really brought this on yourself! This is the REVENGE part. Now for the rest.
I saw Amanda Palmer live.
HIGHLIGHT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE.
First song was Sex Changes, which isn’t even sad, but I was wringing my hands trying not to cry. I DON’T KNOW WHY. And I did cry through the second song, because I remember stealthily trying to wipe my eyes without the guy I’d just met noticing, and thinking, “IT’S JUST… SO HOT IN HERE THAT MY EYES ARE SWEATING…. THAT’S IT.“
Luckily I didn’t spend the next few hours wrestling with myself like that, and was able to join in on the cheering and happiness. That is, until she came out for an encore and played Astronaut, and while other people were singing along to the piano, I was more like “DON’T CRY DON’T CRY DON’T CRY“. I hate those weird hysterical fans, and it turns out I’m one of them! D: I’M STILL COOL OKAY. ALWAYS AND FOREVER.
I’ve stopped drinking Coke.
My dependence on this stuff is embarrassing. Over the summer, I’d occasionally have as many as six cans in a day. I REGRET NOTHING. Then a few weeks ago I saw that a 600mL bottle would lost ~$3. $21 a week? Bah! So I just stopped buying it.
Beautiful things have since happened! I now drink two litres of water a day. My skin looks nicer. My perpetually enormous belly is somewhat flatter. It’s also easier to fall asleep! There are people who do this with no effort, leaving you to lie awake hating their every contented snore. I am now joining those people, and quite smugly, too. I never knew Coke had that effect on me! I AM A SLEEPING GOD.
…Having said that, in the first couple of weeks, falling asleep was so easy that I struggled to stay awake past 5pm, and I’d only be able to groggily sit at my computer refreshing my dashboard on Tumblr. We are past this stage of withdrawal now. Phew.
I do feel like I just lost a crucial part of my identity, but we can just replace this with something else. Like creme eggs.
That is all! Congratulations if you made it this far! ♥
This is going to be an incoherent post, but I don’t care (blogging makes me think I’m productive). I know this because I tried four times to spell “incoherent” correctly. Three to spell “spell” properly.
I have a mad and unreasonably passionate love for Latin. Slight mockery makes me resent you. Praising Latin’s awesomeness makes me explode with little bubbling hearts. Studying Latin makes me crush on you. Stalk you. Consider naming my firstborn after you.
…Why am I so creepy.
However, in the last two years the most complicated Latin I’ve faced is “nemo dat quod non habet” (Property Law ftw!). Finally reunited with Latin, I was made to read a speech Cicero wrote at the peak of his career. When he wrote this, he had long been established as Rome’s best lawyer. The year before he had been consul. Meanwhile I couldn’t even remember how to recognise a gerundive – it’s true that parts of your brain rot when you stop using them.
…Luckily, it was much easier this time around to learn all 31 noun declensions, etc. Yuss~!
In this speech, Archias the Syrian poet might be thrown out of Rome because he’s been accused of not being a legal citizen. Cicero comes to the rescue with convincing legal arguments:
- Prosecutation wants evidence that Archias enrolled as a citizen at Heraclea. The law states that he must have done this.
Cicero: HOW DARE YOU ASK US FOR EVIDENCE WE DON’T HAVE. THIS IS SO UNREASONABLE.
- Prosecution asserts that Archias didn’t have a permanent residence at Rome, like he needed.
Cicero: ACTUALLY HE DID BUT I OFFER NO PROOF OF THIS. INSTEAD I WILL MOCK YOU FOR SAYING HE HAS NO A PERMANENT RESIDENCE WHEN I JUST SAID THAT HE DOES. SUCH INCOMPETENCE YOU GUYS.
There are more, but I don’t want to ~blow your mind~. Cicero then spends most of his speech ranting about how poets are magical beings (NO REALLY), and how without them society would just fall apart omggg.
The GREATEST LAWYER OF ROME, everybody!
(Also, he won.)
How miserable that in defence of such liberal arts, Cicero must emotionally declare that “ROCKS LOVE POETS, THEREFORE SO SHOULD WE”. Failing that, there’s “Well, no one ever died because I read literature!”. Archias faces the same prejudice that Arts students do today, and that is all Cicero has to defend us with. I feel so reassured.
…Now try writing an essay about Cicero’s apparent persuasiveness. Keep in mind that he apparently knew what he was doing (I remain cynical). Do it without any sense of despair. I dare you.
Worst essay ever. But I blame Cicero. Seriously, what were you on.