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.

As promised, exciting stuff:

1. I make hazelnut-flavoured coffee in the microwave with lots of milk and three sweeteners. As of late I’ve been too lazy to keep going out to buy the vast quantities of milk that my habit demands, so instead have been buying the add water cappuccino sachets for my caffeine fix.

2. I am writing from a laptop that sits on a gay pride flag (used as a table cloth), and yet am not gay.

3. I don’t let myself spend more than £10 a week on food, or spend more than 10 minutes cooking and/or preparing it.

4. I am one of a twin.

5. I do not expect to change the world, but changing a couple of peoples lives for the better would be nice.

6. I am a (potential) organ, bone marrow and blood donor.

7. I “suffer” from lucid dreams, and occasionally sleep paralysis.

8. I can “play” the harp, piano and French horn, but am utterly useless at all three.

9. I have no sense of direction. I am one of those people who constantly, whilst aiming to cover one side of a shopping street, go into a shop and then come out and walk in the direction I have just come from.

10. I have very long and strong nails, which I often use to poke people.

11. I have lived in the rainforest in a hammock for a few weeks.

12. I have swum in a mud volcano.

13. I have been bitten by a giant centipede.

14. I own a dead giant cicada.

15. I have a slight obsession with making lists.

16. I have built a wall in Borneo.

17. I once gained the nickname “pumpkin head” because my head swollen up for reasons I shall never know.

19. I am allergic to mushrooms.

20. I don’t like comedies.

21. I grew up on a farm, and am a vegetarian (largely because I don’t like the taste of meat).

22. I have eaten wild boar.

23. I hate exercise, but love how it makes me feel more alive afterwards.

24. I have strange big toe nails- they curl up slightly towards the tips.

25. I have found that if I breathe in through my nose hard enough my nostrils close.

26. I can voluntarily stop smelling.

27. I have had black, blond, red, pink and purple hair.

28. I am a size 6/8 and yet am not skinny.

29. I am incapable of resisting picking spots and squeezing blackheads.

30. I have chips and Yorkshire puddings in my freezer and coffee, vitamins, sugar free jelly, and tinned tomato soup in my cupboard, and that be all the ingestible items I own. Yet I am too lazy and skint to go buy more.

31. I am a country bumpkin at heart and miss walking on grass.

32. I really, really want a motorbike.

33. I enjoy driving, but sometimes minor spouts of road rage spoils this.

34. I was born 10 weeks premature (and a day after the latest legal abortion date at that time) and was very poorly so am eternally grateful to health workers in general.

35. I am afraid of getting old and having to watch my friends and family slowly drop off one by one whilst my body slowly gives in.

36. I am far too vain regarding myself and yet what others look like matters little to me, including when the opposite sex is concerned.

37. I live opposite a prison.

38. I found learning to drive induced a large proportion of my life’s scariest experiences.

39. I have learned the most from some of the most unlikely people.

40. I have a temper but only recall truly losing it one occasion, which I never wish to repeat.

41. I am rarely a good enough person to apologise, even when I know I am in the wrong, and when I do actually apologise I do a very poor job at it.

42. I am stubborn and have an annoying habit of not budging even when I realise mid argument that it is in fact me who is wrong.

42. I know what it is to be both shy and retiring and confident and loud, I seem to have gone from the later to the former in the last few years.

43. I adore Dr Martin books.

44. I love combat trousers; their sheer comfort makes my happy.

45. I hate the fact that I have lost contact with some of my closest friends.

46. I sometimes worry that I am too cold because when I spend large times away from people I care about, I don’t tend to miss them.

47. I have a stuffing sandwich fetish.

48. I hate going to the docs, and yet I wish to one day be one.

49. I sometimes feel ashamed to be a human.

50. I believe that there is a God, but not in the traditional sense of the word.

51. I have trouble spelling words with “i” and “e” in them next to next, largely due to that stupid rhyme that does not apply to lots of words (thank God there’s spellcheck on here).

52. I did not read the books I was supposed to study for English Literature A-level, instead I watched the DVD’s at 4am on the mornings before the exams, and yet I still got an A.

53. I bite and trim with nail scissors the skin around my nails. It just annoys me.

54. I dislike (ok, hate) my one Grandmother and adore the other.

55. I like play fighting.

56. I have been around for over 19 years, and have spent around the last 14 years of it trying to decide what it is I want to be. Occupations that I have thought about include vet (I realised I care more about people than animals), artist (I enjoy art but am becoming disillusioned as to what it actually achieves) and radiographer (too repetitive).

57. I wish to be a doctor or paramedic, depending largely on which profession will have me.

58. I can turn my tongue upside down and roll it up (tip rolling backwards)

59. I am scared of “relationships”.

60. I am happy single. Many people have trouble with this concept.

61. I hate sitting on the fence when it comes to my personal opinions and yet accept that occasionally it can be justified.

62. I detest crying and vomiting in front of people.

63. I like the smell of petrol.

64. I am utterly useless at sewing and wrapping presents.

65. I think that sometimes I come across as intimidating.

66. I have an amazing mother.

67. I love the sky with its clouds, sunsets and stars.

68. I get very annoyed at “sheep” people; people who just blindly follow and copy others.

69. I do not understand people who do not wish to see the world outside their own small worlds and travel.

70. I find myself feeling both respectful and repulsed by much religion.

71. I like to think that I do not fear much, but really I’ve just gotten good at ignoring it.

72. I need a little time alone each day to function in what society deems a normal manner.

73. I am in awe of fire.

74. I have realised that unless something challenges me, I get lazy and do it badly.

75. I hate speaking in front of more than three or so people.

76. I watch far too much TV.

77. I enjoy using sarcasm and do no believe that it is “the lowest form of wit”.

78. I have watched every episode of “The X-files” that exists, a fact that I am very proud of.

79. I should be in a lecture right now.

80. I tend to clash with authority (teachers, tutors and the like), but only those I deem annoying/bad people.

81. I get on very well with elderly people in general- I feel that they usually appreciate my company, they often have impeccable manners and I respect them for what they have done in the past that has helped my, and my generations, future. That, and most of them that I know are fabulously quirky.

82. I am completely unafraid of death.

83. I have the urge to see and do as much as possible, but sadly it isn’t always strong enough to get my off my bottom and get to it.

84. I am not one of those huggy kissy types, physical contact with people I don’t know very well turns me into the archetypal reserved Brit.

85. I am, at this very moment, eating cold tinned tomato soup…with something floating in it that looks suspiciously like a cat hair. I own no cat.

86. I detest the noises that birds make (peacocks, seagulls, pigeons…).

87. I know what it feel like to carry a rucksack of around 35kgs for ten hours a day in 90% humidity in 40 degree heat for ten days, over hills.

88. I was one of the most naughty kids at school, but still got good grades.

89. I find the thought of childbirth absolutely terrifying.

90. I have given two trees a name.

91. I have my hand prints in yellow paint on random trees in a rain forest.

92. I have had trench foot.

93. The way Americans pronounce “patronising” makes my blood boil.

94. I have stepped on a bee. On two separate occasions. Both whilst running after my brother because he stole my slippers.

95. I was once held above the head of my headmaster by him lifting my up by my ankles.

96. I get angry when people click their knuckles because it makes me shudder, even though many of my own joints constantly click (for examples both my knees when I bend them).

97. I sometimes wish that the worlds would just stop turning to give me time to collect my thoughts.

98. I cannot stand watching television when the door to the room is open, no idea why.

99. I found out yesterday that chips, curry power and salad cream all mixed up go together very nicely indeed.

100. I am slightly self-centred and it’s all me myself and “I” with me (see above).

Ugh. The majority of times I go out I feel low the next day. I feel a little on the frail side, but not ill enough for this alone to make me feel this crappy. Don't know why this is, I think maybe drinking screws up blood sugar levels a bit and this in turn can make you feel down, just a theory. I can't get it out of my head that I've made a £6000 mistake, with my parents money, in doing this course. Over the last hour I have eaten three hot cross buns, doritos, a mars bar, a Mexican cheese pita bread, digestive biscuits, a chocolate sundae and am contemplating eating the cannelloni in my freezer. Comfort eating isn't working, now I just feel sad and sick, rather than sad alone.

Have learned a few things since my last post:

1. I'm not too good at deciding who is gay/straight- gay blokes don't tend to try and shove their tongue down your throat.

2. Mothers calling at 9am when you got to sleep at 5 am makes me angry.

3. When I left school I didn't, as I'd hoped, leave behind the bitchy cowardly girls. There's a lovely new breed of them living right opposite me.

4. I have a temper.

5. Sambuca is evil.

6. When people get stuck in a lift they call the fire brigade who arrive complete with sirens and flashing lights.

I really need to figure out why, when I write things they have paragraphs (honest), and when I post them, they do not.

Anyhow, been thinking since yesterday about what to write on here today and already thinking about what to write has lead to actual thinking about things, however small, which is good methinks. Last night I realised that if feeling a little down, a good old chat works wonders. It doesn't even have to be about anything important. Last night I went over to next doors flat, just because I was feeling a little isolated. And we just sat and talked, about everything from the Welsh language to the circus, and I went to sleep feeling much better.


Strange thing happened this morning. You know when you're waking up and you're at the half awake half asleep stage and your thoughts are kind of jumbled? Well, the first thing that came to m groggy mind was about my career options (doctor/paramedic). Just goes to show how much my own indecisiveness regarding my future occupation is on my mind these days.


Went to do a little shopping today and got harassed by not one, not even two, but three builder/white van man types. This put me in a funny mood: on the one had it makes me smile and I feel slightly flattered (even if they are over 50 and blading, sad really) and half of me gets pissed off being perved on and seen as a nothing but walking hole (sorry to be crude). The first guy tooted his horn and when I looked blew a kiss, the second guy said "wooty woo" at me and then shouted it again at me when I ignored him (did he think shouting "wooty woo"at me would have me gagging for him?!) and the third drove passed me extra slowly whilst honking his car horn in a tune. When he had (finally) gone passed I noticed there was a "baby one board" (I hate those things: you should drive with care around any other cars, regardless of how young the life inside may be) sign on the back window, I can only hope it was not his car and he doesn't have a young family.

Had a funny moment today when, in a usually fairly bust shopping street, I was the only human to be seen. It was a little eerie, like that scene in London from the 24 days later film.

I'm going to attempt the 100 things about me tomorrow, should be a challenge.

Losing my blogging virginity...a scary experience indeed!

Blame Tom Reynolds for my existence on here. Over the last four days I have read his entire blog, from start to finish, whilst managing to attend the odd lecture, get a little sleep and occasionally eat. His is the first blog I've ever read and I'm in awe, not just of Tom's writing (which is fantastic), but of the concept of blogging in general, being a blog virgin myself. What strikes me is that it's odd to know more about a strangers life over the last few years than I know about the lives of some of my closest friends. I almost feel as if I have broken into his house, stolen his diary, and read it. But I feel a little better knowing that this particular diary was in fact handed to me, as a kind of favour, and has helped me for reasons I'll go into sometime or another.To be honest I don't really know what I'm doing here and I feel out of my comfort zone. I feel that my first blog entry should be good, but my writing powers (*cough*) and imagination seem to abandoned me. I could wait a few days for inspiration, but I have time to kill now. I could travel the traditional "why I've started blogging" route, but I'd prefer to do something a little more interesting with my first ever blog post (I don't wish to look back on this and cringe at it's monotony...having a laugh at its stupidity on the other hand would be much better), but what is that something? I could write about myself (the subject I know the most about), but I think I'll be doing rather a lot of that on here, so it would be nice if this post was more inventive, after all I hope I have many years of "its-all-me-me-me" posts ahead of me. I could start by writing what I see out of my window: a prison, a cinema, cars, train tracks...all positively thrilling. Great start Rhi (note: I have a bad habit referring to myself in third person), you've managed to write two paragraphs of meandering bollocks.I'd forgotten how tough writing can be, I've now much respect for bloggers who write enthralling stuff each and every day. And here's me struggling to find something to say in my first blog entry when others are still going strong after thousands. Maybe you need an enthralling life to create an enthralling blog? Which is something that, right now, I am not in possession of. Pursuit of (I've applied to both med school and to do a paramedic sciences degree), maybe, but not possession. This needs to change. So what exactly am I, a failing art student (I figure *curses at how easily American phrases have slipped into my vocabulary* talking about myself in these little bits here and there in this post may make me seem less self obsessed), going to write about? Answer: I have absolutely no idea, largely because I have no idea where my life is going to take me. But I hope to goodness it is going to take me somewhere interesting, so at least I can have something noteworthy to put down on here rather than this present drivel.I think it may be worth writing down what I hope to get from doing this (reversal of my previous idea not to do this), so in short I would like: catharsis (my diary serves this purpose too, but it only allows 3 lines per day, and I like to write a lot), perspective, non judgemental advice (something that is more or less only available from a blog, I'm sure there will be plenty of times when I will need advice and hopefully I'll get the odd reader, perhaps not the way I'm going right now though, who will be kind enough to give it), and a record of my past (I don't like forgetting things, especially things that may help me later on in life).Something that I'm undecided about is anonymity. As mentioned previously I wish to train, and eventually work in, health care. Therefore obviously if I mention people and policies etc regarding these in my blog, which is probably inevitable, as they will become a massive part of my life, then I'll have to be extremely careful not to identify them. But as for myself, I'm not so sure. It's not as if I have any deep dark secrets, but it would be nice to write with complete freedom knowing that the chances are no one I know is reading and knowing that the author is me (because, lets face it, we are, myself included, not completely 100% open with people in everyday life and there are things, for many different reasons, that we just don't go into with them). (I just got interrupted by a flatmate wanting me to join them in watching the Jeremy Kyle show (joy), so I took it as an opportunity (as the television is in the kitchen) too put some Yorkshire puds in the over whilst I was there.) I think I'll do the intelligent thing and figure it out as I go along.Another reason for my writing my blog is that if it goes well (depending on whether my writing style improves or not) it should serve as a reasonable record of what is involved, both on a practical and personal level in changing from a young, naive and ignorant school leaver (or diploma in art and design leaver in my case), who has seen little of this life to a fully fledged health worked (be it a paramedic or doctor, on the subject of which: hurry up UCAS, I want to know where my life is heading!) who deals with extremes on a day to day basis. It would be interesting for me, and perhaps others hoping to take a similar life route, to look back on this journey.I think that now would also be a good time to point out, and apologise in advance for, my useless grammar, punctuation and general annoying habits (including using brackets and commas too much, I am aware of these things but seem powerless to stop doing them, as demonstrated by this very sentence). Great stuff, I left the Yorkshire puddings in too long (damn fan assisted ovens!) and they're brown. Humbug.So, enough of the waffling. Tomorrow I may start actual writing. About what, I am not sure... whatever takes my fancy I guess and whatever I naturally lean towards. I can see myself in a few years time laughing at this whole post in a similar manner to how I now laugh at the diary's I wrote when I was 6 or 7 years old. But hopefully it will be a smug laugh with the knowledge that I've actually learned, and more importantly achieved, something since this was written. I've even learned two things already: that I cannot write, and lead an exceedingly dull life. Fabulous.