Is this normal?

It's Sunday.

Sunday's have never been great in my opinion.

Sunday's are the days that consist of 'Shit, I've forgot to do this... Or I haven't done any uni work... Or, bollocks... my washing's been left in the washer for 2 days' 

I know why I feel like this though.

I got a shitty mark on one of my assignments. The same time last year, I did an assignment, the exact same one albeit interviewing a different person and I got a worse mark this year than I did last time. 

Surely, I should be getting better at this writing malarky? 

Last year, I got 64. This year I got 60. Someone got 70 fucking 5. That's better than a FIRST?! How the EFF is that even possible?

I'm catastrophising. I know I am. I think my life is over. I've failed uni already. I'm shit at writing. I should go work in a butchers. 

I might transfer. Closer to home. But then again, I want to stick it out. I want to push myself so I end up as good as these others who are getting good grades. 

If I transfer, I feel like I'm giving up. Not taking the rough with the smooth and all that crap.

So now, I'm just sat in a blind panic, getting all anxious about fuck all really. 

I need someone to slap me. There's no-one here though. Damnit. 

I'm gonna see if I can do some work and see if I feel any better. Peace. 

Am I ready for those flashing lights?

So it's been a while, but I thought I'd make an unscheduled appearance and ask for some advice.

My university is producing a new newspaper. We have been asked to take part and I decided I'm probably more suited to a feature story rather than a news story. So, we have been asked to gather ideas. The problem is, I am stuck. 

I don't want to do music, nor am I really very good at reviews.

I want a fresh idea that would be good. But it's hard to think of one when it's never been done.

I was flicking through Elle earlier and I came up with 2 idea's... Neither seem very good right now.

1 - A beauty column... Which unfortunately means I am going to burn an even deeper whole in my tobacco stained, crumpled receipt filled, 2 pence city that I call a pocket. 

2 - A piece on up and coming talent. No, not the fit boy in Nike Air Max's who gets on my bus, or the guy with the earring in Evisu Jeans and a tight grey cardigan who, again, I was drooling over on a bus journey or even the Polish looking, hair-in-better-condition-than-mine guy who has a penchant for odd socks....Sorry, I'm getting carried away. Annabellka, control yourself! 

 OK - So yes. Ahem. Talent. By this I mean, the elite of the university. I have a guy on my course who is now the editor in chief of his own music website and has had the privilege of meeting some our most famous UK bands, artists, DJ's. Along with someone who is maybe, trying out for the Olympics, someone who has made an amazing invention. That kind of stuff. 

The problem with the last idea is that, the aim of the new newspaper is for it be available to people outside of the university. General citizens of Bournemouth might not really give a shit what the drunken youth's, that piss all over their front door at 2 a.m, have a talent in. 

I have also decided I am probably going to do a post on here in the next few days. It's going to be slightly different. Whilst speaking, I am very colloquial. By this I mean, 'F**k off, you ******* **** **** bag, you look like a *** ***** ********' or something along those lines, depending on the day. Yet, surprisingly, my writing style seems to be mature - at least that's one thing - and so I might try the more crude, vulgar way of writing. Yes, it's not going to be to all tastes but this blog is all about finding out what I am best at so I'm going to give it a bash. 

For now, I am going to contemplate any more idea's for what I should write about for the newspaper and if anybody flies past this page and has an idea please do share! I'd be very grateful. 

Peace. x

Scribblings On A Postcard

It's Tuesday.

Its 13:00 hours.

I'm sitting downstairs on my cold, leather couch. In my dressing gown.

It's raining outside. Not like cute rain. Like heavy, grey, soaking wet, horrible rain.

I've got the ' Tuesday Blue's.'

August....Pfft. Yeah right.


Anyway, on to more pressing matters.

I had a read through this blog the other day and realised that my original vision to create a portfolio of work which would have a certain amount of journalistic credit, has somehow become a distant memory.

So what did I do? Felt sad for a while, felt like a failure for 2 minutes and then decided to make a new blog.

Yeah I know? Blogaholic.

Anyway, I am going to keep this blog as I do still need a page to scribble my everyday musings about life.

My new blog, however, is a simple page - no embellishments. Just my work. Work that I produced whilst at uni, but also work that I have written over the last few days.

Nothing major and ( in my own cynical view) not that good but don't forget I am attempting to get back into writing from a bit of a break.

I also, quite strangely discovered this whilst lying in bed last night, found my niche.

I loved writing features whilst at uni, I like writing things with a bit of emotion put into them rather than a straight forward piece of reporting on a subject.

I like to, not only give my opinion, but to put a little bit of raw emotion into my pieces. To, hopefully, make people think, question and argue.

Maybe this is my market?

I did love the idea of music, but my tastes expand so far and wide that I'd never have an audience. I doubt people who love a little bit of Adele would also listen to a bit of Tarkan, Valeriya or Aventura.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh............. Nearly forgot to put a link to my blog.

Here it is. Enjoy.


scribblingsonapostcard.blogspot.com

I'm attempting to get back into the swing of things

So....

The last year has been turbulent.

Uni didn't work out for me. I fell ill and had to drop out.

I had a chat with the powers-that-be, however, and I'll be back in September.

Good news right?

Wrong.

I'm scared. More so than last year. Because I cannot afford (literally and financially) to take the year again after this, so effectively it is my last chance. No pressure.

This really explains the lack of posting for the last few months... I am now trying ( have left it a little bit late, no? Maybe I'm just a pessimist) to get back into the swing of things.. Attempting to start writing again.

As the month's has flown by, I have noticed a lot of my friends from the course have dived into the world of Journalism head-first, some even writing for MTV!

So anyway, I realised.. I need a subject. I need an area and an audience for whom I am going to write for. Up until this point, I have just loved writing. But now it's time to get serious! It's time for a target audience, a pitch, a subject I am going to love.

Any ideas?

In other news, I made a book.

No, no... I am def not turning into good old JK Rowling. I mean, I have made a book to inspire me. It's got my goals in it. For example:
- Study and practise Russian.
- Make a timetable with certain amounts of time for each activity each week.
etc..

Also, I have put some motivational phrases in to inspire me to carry on and not give up ( That is one in itself, oui? )

'Be yourself.'
'Its OK to have an opinion. You will be respected for that'
'Choose your own miracles'
'Someone is rich, not by the belongings they own but by the qualities they possess'

And my favourite:

'Everybody dies but not everybody lives' ( Taken from the philosopher herself, Nicki Minaj, haha! )

The last one is something I have pinned up in my room. I recite it over and over again... Yep, I'm becoming NEW AGE! It's def something I am going to remember for the rest of my life. I was even considering tattooing it on myself... Kinda like 'Memento' so I can look and remember... But I'm still unsure of it.
P.S - I don't mean PHYSICALLY tattooing it on myself. I have a very gifted tattoo artist who is a dear friend of mine... So obv I'm gonna rope him into it :)

Ciao x

Seems I did cry after all.....

I sprained my ankle :( Bad times.

Bed beckons.

Shall update the story behind the cankle tomorrow......

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to

It's my birthday!!!

Another year older and another year wiser.. So I'm told :)

Hope you all have  a good day on my birthday!! xx

A question........

Pot pourri.

I have just looked in my room and my mum has put out a pot of pot pourri.

Which got me thinking.

Its just dead plants right? Dead, dried, fragrant plants?

So basically, some idiot once bought his girlfriend some flowers for her birthday and by the time he got round to giving them to her - they had died. So he sprayed them with perfume and said 'They are supposed to be like that..'

She, unwittingly, believed him and now we have a habit of putting dead crustations of plants in our homes and calling them 'decorative'

This is, I believe, the origins of the dreaded pot pourri.

Its like you never notice me

Beautiful eyes can hide so much....

I can't keep up with your turning tables.

I'm back at uni.

This is a bit of a sombre post. I'm sorry.

I'm listening to Adele. I love her. She has the most amazing voice, but I have to be in a certain mood to listen to her. Just as I do with all music, I have my going out music, my chilling music, my creative music, and my contemplative music.

I feel a bit down today. I'm not sure why.

I don't think uni was what I was expecting. It is quite difficult. I know people say students have it easy, I dunno. 

I feel like I am letting myself down. I wish I could try harder and keep the motivation but I can't. I can't keep an eye on cash flow, I can't get a job, I am struggling. The 'I can's' in my head are getting more and more distant as the days pass. 

I'm beginning to think uni isn't for me. But then I have strived to come here for so long. Maybe I chose the wrong uni? But I love uni. Maybe it's not the right time for me? But I don't want to go back to a dead end job. I wish I had an amazing talent. Just like Adele.

Ahh well. Swings and roundabouts.

Show a little respect

Yes, this post as you can tell from the title is about 'Respect'

Currently my mother is tending to daughter duties in Russia and looking after my Granny. Which leaves me to look after the brood (The dog and 2 cats) and the house.

Now, at uni our flat was subject to a flat inspection.. Noooo, we aren't that bad. Uni is just THAT strict. I think. Ha.

But we always manage to pull it out of the proverbial bag and clean it to a 'satisfactory' level. So I thought, 'OK Anna, there is just going to be you, the dog, the cats at home. How hard could it be?'

Very hard, coincidentally. Not only do my animals like to bring corpse's of God-only-knows what animals into the house, my dog insists of bringing mud in from the garden. And I'm talking like, HUGE clumps of mud attached to half of my lawn under his nails... Not only does he bring it in - He then runs away when I try and wipe his feet which scatters the mud and grass under each nook and cranny ever invented.

Oh and whilst I'm speaking of my dog, He doesn't quite grasp the concept of walking on the pavement or on the nice dry dirt-track on the  back field. No no no. He would rather jump through the sludge, roll in what can only be described as 'Swamp Mud' and then try to drink from the local brook... Now that would be fine, if the water wasn't orange... and frothy.

So, my mums back today and I'm on a frantic mission to clean up all the crap left behind by myself and my animals. Now under no circumstances am I saying I'm a domestic goddess. I've got a cold, so I have effectively used a gazillion tissues whilst coughing and spluttering. And no, I haven't even watched Titanic recently.  For some reason, unknown to myself at this current time, rather than putting my tissue's in the bin.. I tend to leave them on the window sill, on the table, on my bedside cabinet. A few of them, in my defence, have ended up in the bin and that's only after my dog has tried to take a swipe at them and eat them. That's another story. Let's just call it 'Benjie: Tissue Eater'.

Oh and also, I have decided to leave all my washing up until now. Not one of my better idea's. Bone idle may be the most apt term here.

Whilst I have been cleaning this afternoon, I thought I better put down in words just how hard it is to look after the house. I ought to show a little respect to my mother as she does this on an everyday basis. My proposal, to show how much I take her for granted, is (once the washing up has been done) to bake her a cake and make her some dinner for when she gets home. This is another problem, as I am the world's worst cook, but hey I'll give it a try.

So, I just want to say, I love my Mum, and wish me luck!!

Nice to see you... To see you, nice.

No no, don't worry I am not turning into Bruce Forsyth's younger sister.

I am merely telling you how nice it is to be able to update my blog again.

To say I've been busy is an understatement.

I honestly did not think there would be THIS much work involved in University.

Call me naive, but I kinda thought it would be easy. Oh Golly! How I was wrong.

So anyway, I've been away for a considerable amount of time.. Not away, just away from blogger.com. Ha.

In this time I have managed to lose a passport, a student card and... let's say... 'several' bank cards. My mother is not amused. And neither am I.

It, never once, occured to me before starting uni that I lose things on a daily basis... Namely my keys. But I do.

I am currently at home, up in the North. Looking after the animals/zoo.

Due to return to Sunny Bournemouth in a matter of days. It is actually quite sunny up here today... I really want to make the most of it... Sod it, I'm playing out in the sunshine!

Until next time...

You are beautiful... No matter what they say

Yes it's a lyric.

Cheesy for a title I know.

But I've been thinking. Shock horror. Yes, I actually have.

I've been thinking about beauty.

What is beauty?

beau·ty   
[byoo-tee] Show IPA
–noun, plural -ties.
1.
the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest).
2.
a beautiful person, especially a woman.
3.
a beautiful thing, as a work of art or a building.
4.
Often, beauties. something that is beautiful in nature or in some natural or artificial environment.
5.
an individually pleasing or beautiful quality; grace; charm: a vivid blue area that is the one real beauty of the painting.
6.
Informal . a particular advantage: One of the beauties of this medicine is the freedom from aftereffects.
7.
(usually used ironically) something extraordinary: My sunburn was a real beauty.
8.
something excellent of its kind: My old car was a beauty.

(Taken from dictionary.com)


Throughout my life, I always wanted to be beautiful. I hope I am not alone when I say, I don't think I am the only one who has ever felt this way. Why as humans do we strive for perfection? Perfection of a look that does not exist.

Surely, the sole reason that people dye their hair, or fake tan themselves, or paint their nails, or cut their hair even is for the purpose of being more attractive. People say 'It is because I feel more confident in myself'.

Fair enough. But let me put it to you this way: If nobody in the world dyed their hair, if nobody painted their nails and we all walked round a la caveman chic... Then would you still go against the norm and decide you wanted straight/long/blonde/curly/purple hair? Really? I know I wouldn't.

I think beauty is a very dangerous word. It makes people strive for the wrong things in life. Of course, when the word is handled carefully then it can be seen as merely 'enhancing' your current assets. But not for all of us.

I know I would much rather be desired for my attitude, my morals, my beliefs, my intelligence and my ability to participate in an intelligent conversation. Oh and did I mention, my writing ability?! (Shameless, I know! But it's gotta be done!)

The same applies with beauty of an object. I love nothing more than putting my glasses on (Yes I am getting old... I need glasses to see. This scares me.) and looking. Looking out of my window. Looking around my room. Looking at my animals. Anything really.

I, for one, don't look at an old, withering tree and think 'Oooooh. This has an excellent use for making paper or for giving a home to hundreds of insects and birds.' No. I would much prefer to look at a tree with an abundance of leaves, dancing along with the wind.

So really, beauty is all around us. Beauty is not something we can get away from. It's how we interpret that beauty which is important. An object or person should not be judged on beauty alone. We should instead, wish to look further, beneath the skin of someone or something to truly appreciate it's value. What is good about the human race, is that the saying is true 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder' So fortunately for mankind, what is beautiful to one person may not be so beautiful to another. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure'.

Wow, I am really going for it with all the proverbs today. I'm not sure what the point of this post is. I had a sudden urge to take note of what I was thinking, so there you go.

In other news, I am back at home relaxing for a few weeks looking after the animals whilst failing miserably to do some much needed catching up. I did, however, manage to bake a batch of cakes yesterday. This for someone who's best dishes include buttered toast and noodles, is quite an achievement I think.

So, what do you find beautiful?

The letter.........

D.C,

I call you D.C because there is no other name that fits.


Dad - no, too personal.


Father - Bioligical maybe, but I always have the connotation of 'Fatherly Love' 'Daddys Girl' when I think of that.

Parent - Don't you actually have to 'parent' to be called a parent?


I guess I write this now, after a considerable length of time to let you know how I feel. The reason for this is that you aren't around to ask. You never have been. I, in no way, have any intention in sending this to you. The reason being is that I don't see the point. I am 22 years old. There is nothing you could possibly offer me that would make my life any different now or add any value to it at all. I am a woman and you missed out on most of my life. For what? To be with whatever women you ended up with, to raise children that were not your own and finally to have another child who you so dearly care for.


No I'm not jealous. I'm not envious. I'm happy. I am happy that that child will have what I didn't have. You may think that your lack of contact in my life did little to hurt me or little to affect me. But it has. It has and I feel quite ashamed to tell you, or anyone for that matter. I seek constant approval from people, I have an overwhelming desire to be liked and to fit moulds to try and get along with anyone. I am extremely sensitive, I am in constant fear of losing anyone I have around me. I have also been less than successful in relationships. I was never expecting to be married by this point, don't get me wrong, but all my relationships have been a giant leap away from HEALTHY.


Why does that have anything to do with you, you may ask. That's just me. Just my character.



No, D.C. No. As a child, you rejected me, you called my mother names in front of my face when all she wanted is for you to spend time with me. She fought for me when I didn't have my own voice. You refused to spend time with me. You came and went as you please. I didn't see you for years, then you would come along and spend 3 hours with me once every 3 weeks. That lasted for a couple of months, then you decided when you would come and when you wouldn't. I sat by my window watching to see if you were coming. Then, at times you would come at 4 p.m and leave at 5 p.m.


As a child, all I wanted is for you to love me and WANT to spend time with me, being that I was your only child. But you didn't. What did I do? What did I do wrong? I didn't ask to be born D.C. I was a child and you didn't want me. I don't think you realise how that affects someone, because of course, you had your mother and father in your life. Why should I be any different? What gives you the right to walk away from your responsibility?


You have damaged me. Because of your inconsiderate actions and lack of parental guidance or love I have extreme fears that people don't like me, I have extreme fears that I am a bad person and people do not wish to be my friend or to know me. Is it because of the environment I come from? No. Is it because of my mother? No. My mum has survived in a foreign country, she has put her own happiness and life to the side in order to allow me to achieve my goals and be closed to my so-called 'FATHER'.


After all these years, I have tried and tried to make contact with you. I have longed for you to want to spend time with me and love me like a father should. You sent me an email earlier this year, apologising for stuff you haven't done. Yet, you don't list any of this STUFF. Is it because you didn't help me out with money when I asked and you promised? Is it because of all the lies you fed me over the years? About wanting to see me and staying over in my town so we could get a whole day together? I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG to you to warrant lies and deceit.


This is my first and final letter to you. I sincerely hope your son grows up to be a wonderful young man. I hope you have learnt from your mistakes, for me it is too late, but for your son, it isn't. Love him, cuddle him, spend time with him. Give him the best you possibly can. Show him you can be an amazing father, like you weren't for me. I should have said these things a long time ago but never could find the courage in case you never wanted to see me or speak to me again. I am sorry I couldn't be the child you wanted. I am sorry you don't love me. I am sorry if I ever did anything wrong but I now no longer regard you as a father, dad, parent. In fact, I don't regard you as anything. I wish your son nothing but the best in life, one day I would love to meet him. As for yourself, I have spent too much time dwelling on you being in my life that I would like to say: I no longer need you. I no longer wish for you in my life. I am now going to move on with my life, away from the past, away from all the misery and things that hold me back. I write this letter for closure. To finally get things off my chest, in the hope it makes ME a better person. In the hope, that now, I can draw a line in the sand and do everything I ever wanted. In the hope that now, I can be an amazing woman and have an amazing life because I deserve it. Just because you didn't love me does not mean I am not worthy.


Farewell.