I have spent the last 14 hours doing nothing but watching sex and the city whilst occasionally moving to get a drink/have a pee/find food. I am a sad example of a human being. I'm ashamed of myself sometimes. I did realise how comfortable I feel with my flatmates though to just sit and slob and poke them every now and then. Good times.

It's strange at the moment. I go from beig hyper and happy to miserable in the space of about three seconds. I've pretty much given up on uni, I'm officially a dropout. But I shouldn't be quitting yet, not until I actually have a job. But I can't help it, I can't face it. It's not that terrible really, it's just not my thing, and I've built it into some mountain in my head. Got my tragus pierced yeaterday, completely spontaneous. It makes me happy. Piercing holes in my body lifts my mood. It hurt like a bitch having it done, I was all cool and confident, having 5 ear piercings already, and then...eeeek! Parents arn't going to like it though, which makes me nervous. But I'm too old to be doing it to rebel from them, not that they'll see that. What I like about it is that few other people like it: it's an odd sort of vanity, I care how I look but only for me. I want to feel like I look nice, screw what other people think. I like to look good for me. Jen got her nose done, her parents are not including her in their will. The bastards. Went for a glass of wine afterwards, suddenly, sitting in the slug and lettuce, it dawned on me: I've grown up, I'm an adult.

Why do I look stupid in smart trousers?! I live in combats, jeans and Dr Martins. I have an interview comming up. No smart trousers fit me= trouble and panick ahead. bought 5 cd's today: Portis head, white zombie, metallica tributes, system of a down and Deftones. Also bought leggins to go with the camo skirt I bought yesterday, I don't feel me like in them. But it's nice to have a change. Sarah's leaving next year. Much as I love some people here, I couldn't stick around for much longer, if I liked my course, I dunno, guess I'd have to. Wow have I fucked up this year. But I've learned lots in the process, so it's ok right? The worst thing is I think I've diaapointed my parents and made them worry, never mind made the folk out £6000 for jack shit. I don't like myself very much somtimes. Not the me who has just sat around watching sex and the city all day, not to mention spent loads on cds. The only productive thing I've done is to post Jonny a reply letter, bless him. I'm gonna miss the people here next year, but if I get this job and they let me keep it even if I go to Africa or if i end up in Cardiff uni, the I'll still be around. My life is so fucking odd at the moment, i has absolutely no direction, path or structure and it's a strange way to live.

Ugh. Came back to Cardiff (home?) this morning, driven by the lovely Jen. Was happy to be back at first, got a nice big hug from El. Now I just feel bleugh and I'm not sure why. Got an interview for the auxilery nurse post, which would be a great job. But just don't feel enthusiastic right now, don't even have the energy to write and/or moan on here. G'night X

And still all I can do is croak at people. But at least I'm going back to Cardiff in the morning (7am- argh!). Looking forward to going back. When I'm home I feel like going to Cardiff and vice versa. Strange way of life this student buisness. Today I have made vegge soup (to freeze for the comming months vitamins so I don't get malnutrition), shopped in Somerfield (sooo much cheaper than Sainsbury's), eaten way too many thorntons chocs, heard Jen claim she's going to finish with Mat, sorted out some photos, cleaned out the fish...my has my day been thrilling. Been getting rid of some of my old junk- my bedroom now finally looks like I've left home and I feel happy that I've broken the hoarding habit that seems to grip my entire family from the older generations down. Nan B refused to come because of my infectiousness. So havn't seen her, which is a little sad, but I guess it beats he dying of some bug I've given her, I suppose I'd feel worse then. Nan S was her normal hyperactive self.

Too much of my life right now relolves around waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting to hear from jobs I've applied to, waiting to hear from universities I've applied to. I can't make plans- any decisions have been taken out of my hands, it's infuriating.

On the upside I applied to be a guineu pig today- aka medical trials. Partly because I'm intigued, partly because I want £1500 to go to Africa, and this seems a nice easy way of doing it. That and it would be good to help the medical world. But I won't be going for anything too extreme. Is it wrong that I'm excited? Probably. At least I'm feeling better, almost normal in fact. Asside from the inability to talk. Ugh. Someone just left a message on the ans machine- ewe on her back. I'd better go sort it X

Been dwelling on the refusal thing. So, I havn't been to visit the uni, and didn't particularly want to go there because if I do do paramedic sci, I'd rather do it at Herts so I can get into the LAS. But still. It's not nice to be rejected. And rejected for something that I really want to do. So I now have 4 places for medicine and one place for paramedic sciences, left. Or I take another year out. But I'm starting to feel like I should get my teeth into something permanenent. And I'm not sure if I'll like being 21 when almost everyone else is 18. But on the other hand a year working and travelling could be amazing.

On the plus side I'm probably going to both Africa and America in the summer. My feet are getting too cold and my throat like sandpaper- I'm off. Bye bye.

So, I was going to write on here every day. Well life, namely, flu (and not the man-flu kind) got in the way. Lets start with last Friday. It was snowing. I wanted to get home. I was going to get driven home but my allocated driver got scared of driving on the snow. So I went on the train. I wore my gorgeous knee high leather Victorian style boots. They'll keep my feet warm and dry I thought. They almost killed me. Stiletto heels+slush+soles as smooth as a baby's bottom+ice+snow=danger. The walk to the station took me an hour, where as usually it takes me around 20 minutes but I had to walk incredibly slowly and carefully not to fall flat on my arse. I almost did, three times. Once in the middle of a 3 lane road when the lights changed to green. That was a rather strong adrenaline rush. But one giant raspberry and white chocolate cookie from miss Millie's and I felt at one with the world again (almost). If only I could taste things now, maybe food would make me feel better. So I missed my train. And the train I got on was late leaving because it somehow managed to arrive without its crew. Then my mp3player died, I almost cried.

So I spent the entire journey on a (freezing cold) train with nothing to do. So I looked around me. Now I don't normally like children, but the one sitting in front of me was sweet. He spent the whole time staring out of the window and looking generally amazed and happy. I wish snow still made me feel like that as it used to, rather than trying to break my neck thus making my pissed off. I also watched the droplets of water flow passed my window, the shapes they make and ow they move is beautiful. At some point I needed the toilet. When I returned to my seat I realised that my stiletto had speared the loo roll and I'd managed to drag a considerable amount of it through the carriages with me. Wonderful.

Then I got off the train to meet my Mum. I was pissed off, starting to feel ill, cold and hungry. I gave her my boots and put on the pumps that were in my bag (I could have done this earlier, but my boots were too big to fit in my bag and too awkward to carry). It was a day of completely inappropriate footwear. Although the pumps didn't make me fall over, they were made of thin material and did make my feet freeze. After a while I couldn't feel below my ankles, it felt odd to be walking on something which I had no sensation of. Then, again because of the snow, the traffic was horrendous. So it took Dad, my lift home, 2 hours to get to us. I froze. All in all it took me 10 hours to get home. I was not a happy bunny. It usually takes less than three.

So then the next day the flu started. My head felt like there was a troll with a pick axe inside my scull doing some serious damage, I had to wear sunglasses because any light made the troll attack harder, I had around 4/5 nosebleeds a day (once I woke up and there way blood everywhere, for a split second I thought I'd killed someone in my sleep), getting out of bed to go to the loo felt like climbing a mountain and when my nose wasn't bleeding it was running. Marvellous. And since then my sense of taste and smell has gone completely, which is very frustrating considering the variation of good food we have at home in comparison to my baron uni cupboard. But at least I'm at home where Mum knows which flavour halls soothers I like (even if I can't taste them). On the other hand Mum keeps shouting up the stairs things like "are you OK?" and I get pissed off because shouting back makes my throat feel like I'm swallowing razor blades (now the flu symptoms have almost gone, I'm left with the joy that is a bad throat). But at least having the flu gave me the excuse to watch the entire planet earth series (deep sea episode was sci-fi style creepy).

So there's my flu story. I found the army careers booklet I picked up yesterday, I think Mu made it difficult to find because she doesn't want me in the army. Sort of thinking about being an army medic to avoid tuition fees etc. Also yesterday (valentines day) I walked passed a flower stall. Big mistake. OK, I'm single and happy with it, but those smug halves-of-couples were everywhere. Eugh. Had my hair cut this morning. When the hairdresser started frowning at my hair and saying things like "erm...I didn't cut this last time..." I had to lie and say it was my flatmate, when in fact I'd done the 6 year old thing, got bored, hacked away at my hair, and created a mess.

I also look like a scare-crow. I've lost a little weight from the flu and I'm now under 8st, which I don't think has happened since I was 8. And I've got that pasty hollow I've-been-ill look. Attractive. I think Mum thinks I'm anorexic now after watching a programme which followed American anorexics, I don't think she realises that I've not been eating because I've been ill, not because I have a phobia of fat.

Oh and the other fun thing that has happened is I've had my first refusal, from the university of central Lancashire for paramedic sciences. Not sure whether to ring them up and ask why or not. I think I will, but when my throat is better so it doesn't sound like I'm growling at them. Mind you, my personal statement was all about how I wanted to be a doc, not a paramedic. So, there's a fun filled week in the life of Rhi. And what a great one it has been. Ugh.