Progress?
Posted by: 7selves on: May 30, 2012
Stress will always catch up with you.
In 18 minutes, I have my final year progress panel meeting. And this is how I’m preparing for it. 
This morning I woke up feeling like complete and utter shit. I just want to go back to bed. 
I have no intelligent thoughts in my head and I don’t really know what planet I’m on. So this meeting is gonna be just great. 
It seems that Stuff has caught up with me. All of the running and chasing and fighting has taken it’s toll. 
I want a holiday. I frigging well need a holiday. 
But I can’t have a holiday because I’m moving out of our flat and that costs approximately what a pissing holiday would. 
Which is ironic given that I will, in fact, be spending the majority of next week (when I had intended to be on a beach) residing in said flat on my lonesome. 
Basically, I feel like shit and look like shit and would just like a glimmer of sunshine to come my way. 
But now I have 9 minutes until this progress review lark. So I’m guessing the sun aint coming out today…
Leagues
Posted by: 7selves on: May 29, 2012
Age probably isn’t just a number.
In my head, I am approximately 23 years old. I think that’s because, when I was 23, I had one of the best years of my life. So I wish to remain there. 
The problem is, I am not 23 years old. And I think I’m meant to act like I’m not too. But that’s boring. So I damn well refuse. 
But the problem then becomes me, errrm, how can I put this, taking a fancy to people within the 23 year age range. And when I say ‘range’, I mean it. In age and number. 
And because I’m me, and impatient, and a hopeless flirt, I have no qualms about making my fancies known to said ~23 year olds. But then I feel like a total twat when I wake up and realise that someone who is ~23 is not, in any way, shape or form, attracted to a woman who is, in fact, thirty-pissing-one. The phrase “who am I trying to kid” springs to mind. 
You know, I will never be one of those women who makes men do the chasing. I admire those women who can do that. It would be amazing to have someone come after me with flirtation and invites to dates, and generally feeling that I was worth all that effort. Every girl likes to feel wanted, right?! 
But I just don’t have the willpower to wait for that. Like I said, too damn impatient. And also not convinced it would ever come. 
So call me Mrs Bloody Robinson if you will but I’m still not ready to behave like a 30-something year old. I just want some pissing bloody fun. And surely fun is something I deserve at any age. It would just be nice not to have to ask…
Bipolar
Posted by: 7selves on: May 28, 2012
A person who has 8 selves will not always make much sense.
My dear sister once pointed out to me that, in having 7 (as used to be the case before the single one came along) selves, I probably actually have 3.5, but they’re all slightly schizophrenic. 
And given my change in mood from yesterday to today, I’m inclined to think that the girl has a point. 
Sometimes, I just think that all 8 of me are idiots. For example, someone tries to be friendly, and I go and, true to form, ruin it. Again. 
Which is really quite a skill, given my absolute desire to get things right on that front. Meet Rach: Fucking shit up since 1980. 
I could very easily blame my dumbarse behaviour on Recent Events and the fact that I’m dealing with too much shit and not thinking straight and yada yada. But that would be bollocks. And I sometimes do wonder if I’ve just brought all of this year’s shit on myself anyway. 
But this is just the way I roll isn’t it?! Too much emotion; an absolute inability to keep my mouth shut, and a giant heart on a very well-worn sleeve. 
But if it’s any consolation to those who have to deal with me, I don’t make a right lot of sense to myselfves either…
Lush
Posted by: 7selves on: May 27, 2012
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I have had the lushest weekend. 
A combination of sun, friends, running and, errrm, Eurovision has honestly left me feeling like I’ve just come back from a week on a beach. Things are all good. Finally. 
At the risk of sounding like a right soppy cow, I can’t stress enough how amazing my friends have been lately. I have not stopped laughing this weekend. And that’s all because of them. Love you guys. Mega-loads. 
I also had a little bit of me us time this afternoon, chilling out in the sun by the river in The Village. Which was also pretty lush. 
I thought I needed someone else there to make it enjoyable. But realised, actually, a bit of thinking time was just what I needed. 
Yeap, my 8 selves and friends are pretty much all I need right now. Anything else is just a bonus…
Sun
Posted by: 7selves on: May 23, 2012
One day can make a lot of difference.
“Twenty-four little hours. Brought the sun and the flowers where there used to be rain.” Indeed. 
Yesterday evening I sat out in the sun having girly chat with a friend, and the rays started to rub off on me. Today I had lunch in The Village with two lovely friends. In the sun. And felt properly happy for the first time in ages. I think that’s probably more to do with my friends than the sun or Kopparberg, to be honest. 
So this evening I went for a run and really felt like me again. ‘Me’ being someone who is capable of running marathons. So is used to doing the whole mind-over-matter thing. Who can get whatever she puts her mind to. And can go charging through the pain barrier, out the other side and across the goddamn finish line. 
I think I forgot that for a bit. I won’t be making that mistake again.
There will be no more moping or over-thinking or complications for the rest of this year now. 
I’m keepin’ it simple. Because nobody ever recorded a marathon PB by going the long way round did they?! And I think it’s time that this lady set the pace instead of doing the chasing… 
Light and dark
Posted by: 7selves on: May 21, 2012
There are no shadows without light.
First up, I should say that I had an absolutely lush weekend with a whole load of friends. Who are all mint. And I’m looking forward to spending more time with soon. 
Secondly, I submitted my 3rd year report today. 
I didn’t actually think I’d get there at some point last week. But certain people helped. With various words and alcohol content. Again, mint friends, see. 
Other Stuff is falling into place now too. And there has been a lot of Other Stuff. Which I really didn’t think I was capable of beating at some point. 
But gimme a month or so and I think I might just be on top of it all. Tough cookie, me. 8 of us and all that. 
The daft thing is, things that I’d be perfectly within my rights to completely fall apart over, I’m actually handling pretty damn well. Then there’s other things that should be so easy to walk away from, that I just can’t. 
So, in an attempt to decipher the riddle that is my selves, I’ve been questioning why that is. And I’ve come up with two factors (not enough for post-hocs but we could surely examine the main effects): 1) Desire. 2) Memories. 
To easily turn your back on something, you need to want to, right? So, there are some things I absolutely can’t bury quick enough. And then there are those things I have no desire to bury at all. 
Same goes for memories. There are bad ones (sometimes pretty fucking horrendous ones) and there are good ones (sometimes absolutely mind-blowing ones), right? And, now and again, a place or time or action might evoke both types. So if you find yourself caught in that place or time or action, you’re gonna try your damnedest to displace the bad ones with the good aren’t you? So then the desire is there to keep the good memories alive. And we have a significant interaction. 
My point is, if you’re sitting in a massive shadow, something has to be casting light from somewhere. You just have to be careful that it’s not so damn hot that it burns…
Degrees of freedom
Posted by: 7selves on: May 16, 2012
Degrees of ‘freedom’ is a big fat lie.
Who named them that?! What does freedom have to do with it?! Because all degrees of bloody freedom have done for me today are keep me tied to my desk pulling my hair out over where the hell I’m meant to get them from. 
What even is a pissing degree of freedom anyway?! 
Did I mention that I hate statistics?! 
Why don’t PhD students get lovely demonstrators on demand to help us with our evil SPSS dilemmas?! Where’s my knight in shining armor?! 
I don’t know what I’m doing and I want to cry. 
Just bollocks.
Brain. Storm.
Posted by: 7selves on: May 15, 2012
If your thesis is going tits up, update your blog.
My final year report is due at the start of next week. 
And, with the very best intentions of sitting down today and studiously putting something amazing together, I realised a few things: 1) I don’t have a title. 2) I don’t have a right lot of data. 3) I don’t have a clue. My brain hurts. My 8 selves have had far too much to think about lately and there’s only one brain to go round. It’s overloaded. 
I would just like to sit at my desk and not have Other Stuff pop into my head. I’d like there to be no negativity. I’d like closure on all of the utter shit that 2012 has thrown at me. I’d like to not have to worry about anything other than what my bloody hypotheses are and how I can get 80,000 odd words out of them. 
I just want to concentrate on my work. And I pissing well can’t. Maybe I should have written a thesis on blogging eh?! I’d have been just fine with that one…
‘Jemimah’
Posted by: 7selves on: May 13, 2012
Just a polite notice: When people try to post a comment on my blog, I get sent an email to moderate it. In that email, I get to see the ip address, server and, sometimes, computer name. Therefore, if you are going to pretend to be somebody else and post childish, under-hand things because you don’t have the humanity to realise that maybe I’m not having the best year and haven’t handled it well, but maybe it’s understandable, I will know it’s actually you. 
I’m all for constructive criticism. I’ll even sit here and tolerate out and out nastiness if you really think it’s called for. But I’d rather you had the balls to stand by it yourself, instead of hiding behind a girl’s name. Thank you. 
Out of bounds
Posted by: 7selves on: May 10, 2012
The nicer you are, the more people suspect your motives.
I am, naturally, a friendly person. I flirt. With everyone. They don’t have to be male. And, generally, I see the good in people and wanna help them with shit when I can. I’m a talker. But I’m also a wicked listener. And I give a shit. I enjoy that. I just do. 
But, sometimes, in certain settings, it seems there are lines. And me being that flirty person who gives a shit might not be the best way forward. And maybe might make things kinda worse. Oooops. 
On a different topic, I’ve left Match.com. After approximately 17 minutes of browsing, I remembered why it was never a good idea in the first place: 1) Attractive people do not need to use Match.com. 2) Weirdos do use Match.com. 3) I don’t want to be murdered. 
Which means I now need to find my new man in Real Life. Unfortunately, the only attractive men I currently get the chance to meet are students. Now, I have no issue with students per se. The fact that I’m in the region of a decade older than most of them doesn’t bother me. In the slightest (should it?!). And I can handle the general drunkenness, laziness, poorness, etc. Hell, am I really any different?! No. My problem is, I have taught or might teach some of these students. And that’s not allowed. So that sucks. 
At the risk of sounding like a bit of a slapper, all I want, for now, is a bit of a fling with someone (more than vaguely) resembling Thor. 
I can’t say I particularly want hearts and flowers (chocolate I’ll accept) and slushy words. Vodka, a laugh and whatever follows will do me. 
Of course, in case it hasn’t been apparent from my last, oh, 15 or so posts on here, I do have someone in mind for such a dalliance. But, again, my motives are in question there and said someone probably doesn’t believe it’s as simple as it sounds. Because, to be fair, things usually aren’t with me. 7 8 selves and all that. But the 8th self, the single one, just wants some unadulterated fun now. And she’s kinda bored of waiting…
