Very recently, two wonderful friends of mine (Beth and Bonnie) wrote some important pieces about the weight loss culture that always rears its ugly head around this time of year. Their pieces, aside from causing me to fangirl over the fact I have such wonderfully talented pals, rung very true to me and resonated with me on a level I wasn’t quite expecting. On the build up to the new year, I started to reflect on what I had achieved over the 12 months of 2018 and what my hopes for the new year were. And as always, one thing I told myself was that this would be the year I’d finally lose some weight. Continue reading
Guess who’s back, back again? Emily’s back, tell a friend. (Wow, how smooth is that amendment of Eminem’s lyrics eh?) I would have been back blogging on this site sooner, but after a rather bumpy end to my second year of university I decided that I needed a little bit of time to mentally recuperate and just let my mind breathe for a while. I certainly needed a lil bit of time before braving, or – more accurately – tackling, all the blog post/article ideas I have in my head that are currently labelled as ON HOLD. Now I am somewhat refreshed, I am super pleased to share I have managed to complete my second year of university with some pretty ok grades – aside from one mistake of a module, but the less said about that one the better. (Apparently, disgruntled lecturers can get away with not even trying to give you feedback that is remotely constructive and completely missing out feedback on one element of an assessment, before moderation picks up that something seriously isn’t right and your work is magically increased by 16 marks…) It’s not been easy, but I’ve made it. Read more.
You should know the drill by now: I post a few blogs here and there and then disappear for an extended period of time. This time it’s been incredibly extensive – since January in fact. What have I been doing since January, you may ask, that has prevented me from taking 5 mins to do some writing? Honestly, I don’t know. If I had to think about what has happened these last 4 months I wouldn’t even know where to begin, aside from by saying it’s been difficult. Continue reading
Let me cast your minds back to the summer months; it was mid-August and Cowes Week was in full swing. For those of you that are lucky enough to not know what Cowes Week is, let me enlighten you to this special annual tradition on the humble Isle of Wight: every year, during August, the Isle of Wight plays host to the largest running regatta in the world. Even though a strong 99% of the Isle aren’t even remotely interested in sailing, everyone pretends to be because it is an excuse to get completely twatted for the best part of a week. Now, I tend to avoid Cowes Week at all costs because it is highly likely you’ll bump into everyone you’ve been attempting to avoid – either successfully, or unsuccessfully. This year, however, I decided to give Cowes Week a go. After consuming my body weight in Strongbow Dark Fruits and creating some incredibly questionable snapchat stories, my week of binge drinking ended as Cowes Week came to a close.
After solidly drinking consecutively for seven nights, it was a shock to my system and the next day I remember waking up and feeling completely numb. This wasn’t some kind of mega hangover; rather, this was the effect that consuming a week’s worth of alcohol had on my system. It wasn’t just the total feeling of emptiness that began to concern me however, what was more troubling was that as I was sat there I was completely wracked with thoughts of suicide. It suddenly hit me that, as someone with mental health conditions, drinking excessive amounts of alcohol was actually very dangerous. Read more.
To the very small minority of people that still have some remainder of interest in the thoughts occupying my head: I promise I have been working on posts to share with you all. There has been one particular post which I have been battling with for a few weeks now, and I am still yet to find the right words to piece together what exactly I want to say. Once semester one is fully over as January draws to a close, I solemnly swear, (there’s always time for a cheeky HP reference,) that I will bring my blogging a-game.
All apologies aside, I thought I would share a post about all the fantastic experiences that the year 2017 has gifted me with. If I were to dissect the year and list off the succession of shitty news stories, I think we would be forgiven were we to lose the small remainder of faith we hold in humanity. (Especially if we are to consider the sheer amount of male actors in Hollywood who have been exposed as utter pigs.) All in all, I think – for the most of it – we could deem 2017 a total write off. Usually, I would pursue this perspective before reaching a fully fledged existential crisis about how frightening the world has become. But for once, I am trying to ground myself in a slightly more positive outlook on things. Looking at this year from a more micro and personal perspective, I would say this year has been pretty good for me. I guess, all things considered, I’m actually quite proud of myself. I thought I would share with you all a few reasons why 2017 has been a special year for me. Read more.
Let me set the scene for you: it was Friday night, and while most students across Southampton were in the process of getting ready to go out, I was in my room attempting to write my first assignment. After becoming increasingly frustrated with myself for seeming to possess the articulation abilities of a five year old, I resorted to ringing my parents where I cried down the phone about how I’m not good enough for my degree. It wasn’t until this phone call that I became to fully appreciate what “second year blues” are. Read more.
There are many reasons for which I am grateful to my former self for making the decision to switch university courses and become an English student. Quite often, I find myself being grateful for the fact that having minimal contact hours almost certainly guarantees me at least a day where I am free of lectures and seminars. This semester, for example, I have an empty Friday – I do love a good extended weekend. Obviously it’s not as if I spend this day off doing absolutely nothing, but it’s always nice to have some time where I can take studying at my own pace. In spite of this, there are, however, some things for which I am not so grateful for.
I certainly adhere to the stereotype of being yet another English student who is a self-confessed hopeless romantic: as I flick through some of the most nuanced romances of literature, I remain enticed by the immutable promise of a one true love. (Excluding the ever cliched Romeo and Juliet – which, for the record, is my least favourite Shakespeare play.) Love that is enduring, intoxicating; an affection that prevails against all. It is this desire for eternal love that has, regrettably, left me so ill equipped for the reality of modern dating in our hedonistic culture. Read more.