My Mumbling Thoughts

Now that quite a bit of time has gone by and it is a new year, I've decided to update my description of all my flatmates that I get along with, simply because I feel like it and because I think it's necessary. This way, if I mention them here on my blog, you can know at least a little more background information on them. These girls have all become my family and without them, I know for a fact I'd probably be curled up in a cardboard box somewhere begging strangers for random change on the street.

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Zoe: She is known as "the Irish one". I never was particularly close to Zoe, but these days we've grown closer and I feel like our relationship is one with potential to be a lot more. She surprised me one evening when she came in my room with £50 and said that her mom had transferred it to her just for me. She knows what kind of financial problems I've been having recently and I almost started crying when she offered it to me and said that I didn't have to pay her mom back. Of course I'm going to as soon as I get a proper job and I'm also going to buy her a gift on Mother's Day, but the fact that she reached out and did that for me was not only surprising since it's not her problem and all I ever really wanted was somebody to listen to me bitch about it for a while, but it was so kind and restored some of my faith in the human race. We share the same interests as far as writing goes and hopefully we'll be working together soon to try and tackle the London media. Who knows what will become of it, but I'm sure if we do it together, no matter what happens, we're going to have loads of fun.

Helen: She is the English version of me only completely opposite. Physically we resemble each other except for the fact that her hair is blond and mine is brown. We both have similar red jackets, we bought the same jumper from Asda, our dishes match and all of our boy problems seem to be parallel with one another. I can sit and talk to her for ages about every single subject under the sun and never get tired. We've stayed up until half six in the morning once just obsessing and over analyzing every last thing about the boys at Bede House. She was the first flatmate that I got on with straight away and I hope that we know each other for many more years to come. She's so smart and reminds me of how I'd like to be while I'm at university. Just little, simple things like being more responsible and she brings me back down to earth when I'm so far gone in my own dramatic, fucked up world.

Fiona: My dear, sweet Fiona. She is definitely most like me personality wise. We get each other's jokes, we have the same opinions on practically everything and if there's ever anyone I need to procrastinate with to do anything like coursework or my washing up, she's the girl to go to. Like Helen, we can stay up for ages and chat shit all night long like it's never been done before. It's uncanny how similar our lives are as well. Her and I spend most of our time laughing and making jokes that most people would find offensive but we find it absolutely hilarious. I always tell her that it's nice to know that I'm going to have a friend with me in hell that I can laugh with.

Carlene: It took me the longest to feel like Carlene and I were properly close. I think it was because I always thought of her as the mother figure in our flat even though she is a year younger than me and therefore, I treated her as if she was my mother in a sense. I always kept her at an arm's length and never wanted to do anything that I thought would disappoint her in any kind of way or upset her. Just knowing that she was off with me by a tiny bit would send me in a spiral and I'd feel awful as if I had done something wrong. It wasn't until I started thinking of her as a flatmate, rather than the unstoppable mother, that we started to really get close. I realized that she, too, is a person. She also has flaws and makes mistakes just like the rest of us. I consider her to be one of my best friends now and she's one of my favorite drinking buddies.

Lauren: My roommate that I never asked for but always wanted. Sure, she doesn't live in our building but she is a flatmate and my first year at uni wouldn't be the same if she hadn't been with me through it all. She has seen me at my best and my absolute worst. She has her own towel, her own toothbrush and half of her wardrobe in my room. We share practically everything and I'm so glad to have met her. Sure, there are times when I'm annoyed with her and would prefer to be alone, but we can talk things out rather than have a proper go at each other. I tell her when I need to be on my lonesome and she can tell whenever I get into one of my moods. I talk to her all the time about everything and there's not one subject that we've never discussed at least two times. We are known as the odd married couple and where there's one, the other is sure to be following close behind.

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Those are my main girls, the ones that I've been living with and who I've bonded with the most since I've been here. I love each and every one of them to bits and pieces and they have grown to not only just be my flatmates and my friends, but I consider them to be family. I may not have mentioned them that often on here, but every day we see each other, every day we talk, every day we do something that brings us that much closer. We've had our fall outs and have wanted to kick the shit out of somebody else at least once or twice, but at the end of the day, I love these bitches and would walk through fire for them if I was asked to.

Posted by Sam at 01:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I thought it was going to be an early night. Everything is set up and ready for me to close my eyes and drift off into my own Dreamland. The lights are off, my bed is all warm and snuggly, I've washed my face and brushed my teeth, but even with my new iPod (Sugar) playing soothing tunes in my ears, I simply cannot shut the voices off in my head. They won't leave me alone. And it's all my fault.

I've watched two dvds, drank two small cups of tea, made an egg sandwich, smoked two fags, printed off my essay that I need to hand in tomorrow, checked everything that there is to check online, caught up with my e-mails to people back home and yet nothing works. I sit, staring at my blank wall with my eyelids so heavy and practically shut, and yet all I can think about is how badly I want to stand outside in the wind and freezing cold rain with nothing but rain boots on. For some reason I find that hilarious.

Things that I've been ignoring for the past month or so is creeping it's way back to the front of my mind. Things that I've said, that I've done, that are horrible and completely out of character, that I'm ashamed of, embarrassed of, that I've been denying for so long is just now starting to properly effect me. And my sleep pattern, so it seems. I can't help but feel it now. It's faint and almost undetectable, but it's there and I can feel it growing roots inside of my brain.

Part of me wants to try and right the wrong that I've done. Not to clear my guilty conscious (well, okay, maybe that) but to put an ending to something that has been begging to be put to rest for ages. Every story, even the bad ones, deserve a proper ending, no? Something that says, "yes, that is over and done with now." Something that will allow you to sleep at night and not have the little questions and worries fester in your mind and that randomly strike you when you're standing in line at Sainsbury's buying more bread and Southern Comfort.

The other side simply says to leave things alone. What's done is done and for fuck's sake can't you for once just leave it be? Enough damage has been done so let's not try and cause any more.

There was a moment in time when I thought, "fucking good riddance! I'm glad that's over with. Let's go to the bar, shall we?" I immediately forgot about the words that should have never been said and the things that should have never been done. As far as I was concerned, I no longer had that problem anymore. All I needed was a drink to wash the memories away and I'd be fine.

But lately, these past few days I've been thinking about what happened. I'm not sure what brought it on either.

You are a complicated woman, Samantha Leigh. The man you thought you loved and treated you like a queen, you fucked off and basically told him to drop dead. The man who treats you like shit and barely acknowledges your presence, you obsess over and want nothing more in the world than for him to show any kind of sign that he likes you back. You pathetic, pathetic thing. When will you ever learn?

It's a scary feeling knowing that you are the primary cause for so much pain. It's not something that I ever wanted cause. I've sat and said the excuses to myself and then tossed them out the window because they're bullshit. I know what I did. It's not because I was going through a tough time. Shit doesn't just happen and you move on. Sometimes you just act like an asshole and then can't be mature enough to clean up your own mess. It sucks.

And what's even scarier is that I think maybe that is our ending to our story. There isn't a castle, a white horse or a fucking sunset. All that's left is the broken glass that smashed when I threw a rock through the window to my dream house.

Posted by Sam at 12:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

The cold, the wind and the rain keep us all inside left to entertain ourselves. There's no point in getting all dressed up to go out when you think about freezing your legs while waiting on the bus or taxi and having the wind toss your hair around before you even make it to the bar or club.

So we stay inside, drink inside, watch dvds inside and only leave to get bread, milk, fags and more alcohol.

Mel left back for the states this past Saturday and I could tell that she was ready to head back over the pond and rejoin everybody else who lives in a reality that I have completely forgotten about. A steady job? Huh? I wonder what that is. Bills that I have to pay every month? Can't remember what that's like.

She said she had fun and a really good time, but that she couldn't keep up with it all anymore. I do think it was quite the shock to her system as it was to mine, but I think it was a lot easier for her since I was here and all of my flatmates were really good to her. By the end of her stay she felt just like one of the girls and was already picking up on how things run around here. She knew that we had to catch the 85 to get into Kingston and how even if you don't drink or live the party life when you're in the city, life here costs an arm and a leg. She tells the time differently (i.e. half four or quarter past five, instead of four thirty or five fifteen), eats toast with most of her meals now and has learned about nutella and how it is a gift from Heaven.

We had a good time and when I left her at the airport, I knew she was going back home with new stories to tell everybody. I got a little misty-eyed after I watched her pass through the security gates at Heathrow, but I knew she would be back. Her and Momma both would be back.

Since then, I've been sat at home working on some of my coursework that's due this week and having some good 'ole bonding time with most of my flatmates. We're celebrating at the end of this week after everybody has finished handing in their work and taking their exams. It will be three non-stop days of drinking and properly living it up. We can't sit at home any longer. We've been home bodies for way too long. All we want to do is put on some make-up and dance to the cheesy pop music that we know and love.

But we also know that we need to pace ourselves this semester and calm down a lot. One evening when Fiona, Carlene and myself stayed up until half seven in the morning, sober and talking about every subject under the sun, we all discussed how we need to chill the fuck out and not make the same mistakes we did last semester. It was funny to hear how we're all similar in the fact that we all had full time jobs before we came to uni and how we've all mentally turned back to how we were when we were sixteen. The uni life does consume you and now that we're aware of it, hopefully we'll be a little better in recognizing it and not letting every little problem stop the whole world. I don't want to be the stupid, selfish, drama queen that I was last term. That's not who I am and not who I want to be. I do have a rational side to myself and I shouldn't let petty stuff distract me from the rest of my life.

The subject of who we were going to live with next year came up as well. We won't be on campus anymore and will no longer have somebody come in every day to clean our kitchen or bathrooms. Things are definitely going to change. Nobody knows if it'll be for better or worse. All I know is that I want to stay close to the campus so I can still go to the bar and the bop without having to worry about transportation back home.

Sure, it's odd to think about the future, both near and far, but as much as I want to be more responsible and be that person I was back home, the other half of me simply can't be bothered and I'd be more than satisfied to sit around here, eat my mix of sweets that I buy from Woolworths and remain in our little uni bubble for just a little while longer. Life is so much warmer inside.

Posted by Sam at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)