The latest purchase

Introducing: 

One day someone tells my mum that Zumba for Wii is "an amazing workout but a lot of fun too!". Before you know it, this brightly coloured ab-tastic box is sitting amongst the spring onions, pitta breads and taramasalata in our tesco shopping trolley.

Me: "But you don't ever use the Wii."

Mum: "I will now!"

Me: "That's what you said about Wii Fit."

Mum: "Well this is different."

Me: "How?"

Mum: " 'It's an amazing workout but a lot of fun too!' "

Me: ....

Needless to say, I'm sceptical about her devotion to it. 

In the interest of objective opinion however, I wanted to see if it lived up to the hype. Cue 5 minutes (a full beginner's class is 20) of hip swirling, bum wiggling, arm waving, foot tapping, chest shaking, huffing & puffing physical labour. Maybe it was because I wasn't in the best attire (apparently jeans aren't considered correct zumba uniform... who knew), or maybe it was because I'd just returned from an hour long food shop that had involved debates over the best tomato, but 5 minutes of step learning and a further 5 minutes of a Zumba class, and I was about ready to sue Wii. 

I started out trying to learn a few of the 'basic' steps. HA. Best example of misused language ever. To begin with, your instructor a.k.a Zumba Bitch (her new official title) seems friendly enough. "You're doing a great job. Keep going!" This is all fine and dandy when all you're doing is putting your right foot forward and back, forward and back, but as soon as the speed increases, the steps change almost without notice and Zumba Bitch isn't giving you any instructions, all her friendly encouragements becomes useless when it's pretty clear that you're doing it all wrong! This is the major downfall with Zumba for Wii- the lack of vocal instruction, especially in the beginner's stages. The only way to learn is by mirroring Zumba Bitch, and unfortunately she seems to think that we're all Jenny from the block. Learning step basics: HARD

Frustrated with learning the steps, I threw myself into a beginner's class. I was already quite tired from the anger, frustration and abuse screamed at Zumba Bitch in the step lesson, so that's why I think I only lasted five minutes in the beginner's class. However what I did experience seemed a lot more promising than the step lesson. Zumba Bitch seemed to have toned down a bit- no longer was I striving to be J-Lo or Shakira. The steps started simple enough and then gradually got a little more challenging, and I no longer felt the urge to hurl my Wii remote at the screen. In fact, the remote remained comfortably in my Zumba Belt: Exhibit A: 

You can see the belt around the hips. And yes, that's me. Or at least it will be once I get over my slight dislike of Zumba Bitch and persevere with the sweat inducing, muscle aching exercise. Because I hate to say it, but despite the agony of trying to get the steps right, and the acute pain in your soles if you try doing it bare foot, if you like dance workouts Zumba looks to be what it was promised: "An amazing workout but a lot of fun too."

And on that note, I'm off for my next showdown with Zumba Bitch. 

"Come on shake your body baby do that ZUMBA. I know you can't control yourself any longer... "

That's that then.

My last ever essay was handed in at 13.35.

At 20.30 I proceeded to go out and get beautifully drunk until 1:56.

And now that's that.

The real world begins and responsibilities follow.

At around 10:46 -ish I'll wake up and realise that I'm actually quite terrified of the future.

At 11:01-ish I'll start a frantic job search.

At 14:32-ish I'll convince myself that no job will ever have me.

But for now, at 2:20, vodka has made me too mellow to panic. 

That can wait until later in the morning.

Until then I plan to sleep well, knowing that my University workload is completed. 

Thank fuck.

Royal Weddings, Carboot Sales, and Mr.Whippy.

Kate's dress. Thousands. 

Fashion sketches found at a carboot sale. £20.

First Mr.Whippy in about three years. £1.20

A weekend of early starts, heavy lifting, tea in a thermos, haggling with stubborn fools, cleaning, baking, interrupted naps, and forcing pills down a kitty kat's throat. Not so priceless. Tired, overworked and grumpy about the fact that I have to rush my final piece of uni work, all 6000 words of it, in a week. 

Bring on the next weekend. 

"The best books, he perceived, are those that tell you what you know already"

The mere idea of putting words on paper about one of the greatest ever collections of words on paper is fairly terrifying. George Orwell’s ‘1984’, the hugely acknowledged masterpiece, really does speak for itself. Trying to say anything remotely complimentary about it would only be an embarrassing waste of language.  On the other hand I’ve just finished it and desperately want to rave about it, tell everyone who hasn’t read it to do so, and pretty much serve it to someone on a silver platter with a fine wine, expensive truffles, a plush velvet foot stool and a gentle string quartet as background reading music because this is a book that needs to be experienced.

However I think I’ll just settle on the happy medium and encourage all who haven’t read it- or even those of you who have but can’t remember it- to sit down and enjoy. Because that’s the thing; yes it’s smart, inspiring, relevant, affecting, eerie, prophetic and hugely profound, but it’s also just a great read! It hasn’t gained ‘classic’ status and amazed millions simply because it was a clever idea- OK, beyond any normal levels of intellectual, 'clever' that is- it’s also compulsive. Enjoyable! I challenge you to start it and not find yourself hours later, confused as to where the time has gone on.

So, go on. Give it a read. It’s pretty damn good :P

Stability

Finishing university leaves a person with a horrible sense of uncertainty and inconsistency. What do I do? Where do I do it? How do I do it? CAN I do it? Confronting questions that demand answers and leave you feeling inadequately prepared for life in the real world after the cushy comforts of uni life.

I'm currently finding myself amongst this whirlwind of terror when faced with the prospect of reality, and am desperately trying to cling to anything steady that will give me a sense of stability. 

Stable Clutch 1: Family

I count myself very lucky that I rarely feel the urge to commit a familial homicide. Yes, mum drives me crazy when she tells me to straighten out my socks before putting them in the washing machine. Yes, Tat's (Tata = Dad in Polish. Tat = English derivative created by myself & siblings) numerous phone calls do leave me feeling slightly exasperated. But all in all, my family network is very supportive. Trying to get into the world of TV, Tat's gotten me in touch with an agent. Trying to write the perfect CV, mum's fixing my sentence structure. The help is much appreciated, and I recommend taking advantage (in a good way) of family support. They love you unconditionally- remember that.

Stable Clutch 2: Old Friends

If after eight months of minimal contact you can still start complimenting each other's boobs a few seconds into a greeting, you know you've got a friend for life right there- even if she doesn't want bridesmaids at her wedding... After seven years of being part of the 'good girls' at school, going separate ways for University could have meant that myself and Miss J.S would have eventually lost touch. But every meet up, no matter how long the absence in between, is just as easy as it was on the grass outside the library at school. It's nice knowing that no matter what else is going on in life, there's still a familiar face craving your updates... :)

Stable Clutch 3: Attention grabbing hairballs

Barbie and Toffee. Names don't get any more badass. Fourteen years old now, perhaps they're no longer as stable as I'd like them to be. But they've been around forever, alternating between constant demands for affection and food. When they're not sleeping on my face they're trying to eat my dinner, or they're puking up on the carpet, missing the litter box, scratching the cat flap and growling at pigeons. Wouldn't have them any other way. 

So, if you feel like life is melting in your hands as University starts to become part of your past, find those things in life that keep you grounded. Think of it this way: everyone needs a pipe...

Don't expect

Nothing at University is certain, and so it's often best not to expect.

Don't expect to find your best friends for life. If you're lucky, you'll find the odd few that will remain constant and whom you'll be having lunch with in ten years. If you're normal, you'll also meet one or two who seem brilliant to start with but soon turn out to be the opposite of what you expected and who leave you with a permanent doubt.

Don't expect alcohol to always be on your side. Sometimes it will be and it'll lead to entertaining photographic evidence and long-winded but funny anecdotes. But more often than not it'll end in vomit, tears, anger, confusion, hatred, violence, depression, injuries, deathly hangovers and major regrets.

Don't expect to meet 'the one.' The concept of 'the one' is iffy to begin with, but if you're determined to stick with it, University isn't necessarily where you'll find it. Or perhaps you will, but you'll just never do anything about it because 'there's plenty of time' or 'if it's meant to be, it will be.'

And finally don't expect certain marks. This can only lead to disappointment, and is the reason behind this particular post. When expecting a fairly average but positive mark and you're landed with a below average unsubstantiated shit mark, it can cripple you. Especially when you get it on the last day of your last term of your last year. What a way to end University, right?

Hopefully some positive posts will follow soon...

There aren't enough suitcases in the world

Whilst trying to cram three years worth of accumulated treasures into a few meager suitcases, you learn some things:

1.When you don't need them you will keep tripping over elastic bands (yes, that is physically possible...) When you do, they'll be nowhere in sight.
2.A suitcase isn't a tardis. Although it may first appear bigger on the inside, when the contents of your underwear drawer fails to fit into it you realise your eyes must have been deceiving you.
3.Those tweezers you've been looking for were under some essays-behind your bed-next to an old packet of gum the whole time.
4.Eighties tunes are perfect for packing. Sex and the City did suggest this and I've just proven it.
5.Your housemate didn't steal your favourite jumper. You just scrunched it up and discarded it at the back of your wardrobe.
6.Dust really does get everywhere.
7.You probably didn't need to keep that backlog of hair magazines.
8.Lemon pledge smells awesome and Family Guy's Conseula knows what she's talking about.
9.It is still possible to lose something after packing it away.

And finally, 10. You most definitely have hoarded more than you realised.

Oh. The. Joys.