Being a Night Owl

You may notice some of my posts go up past midnight occasionally. This is because I rarely sleep before midnight, in fact if I do, I usually end up waking up at like 5 a.m. which isn't particularly practical. I prefer the night time- it feels like I have far fewer responsibilities at night for some reason. You don't have to talk to anyone and everything's quiet. You can do pretty much what you like.

If you look outside, the world is different, calmer. The few cars that pass outside seem more purposeful in their travels. You notice more of the nature around you; the foxes come out and you can watch silently from your window as they bring their cubs to explore your front garden. There's more space to think, to think about the day that's passed and try to plan out what you want for the next day or for years to come.

It's at night that I decided I needed to move university. In fact, I've made most of the important decisions of my life when I should have been a couple of hours into a deep slumber. But night time isn't just for thinking, it's mostly for relaxing. You can spend far longer watching programmes on the internet during the night without feeling guilty than during the day. During the night, it's fine if you don't make the effort to make a meal and just snack.

You don't have the anxiety that you might bump into someone and have to make conversation. You don't feel like you have to do work (unless you have intentionally pulled an all-nighter for that purpose) because night time doesn't count. You don't have to continue that difficult conversation because they've gone to sleep.

The only guilt you feel is when the birds start to chirp outside, and the darkness fades to sunrise. For night owls, the sunrise isn't such a beautiful sight as others might consider it to be. It's the sign that you've stayed up too late, that now you have to be a responsible adult during the day on 2 hours of sleep, if that. Fingers crossed you've got your de-zombifying technique down (drink plenty of water, eat breakfast, try to imagine you didn't spend all night staring at a laptop screen) roll out of bed and into the daytime.

Mother's Day Blues

Mother's Day today has made me especially nostalgic and homesick. These last two years, I have realised just how much my parents do for me and how much I rely on their support. When you're little, your parents are the worst people in the world because they make you eat broccoli and don't let you do the things your friend's parents let them do. You argue over such stupid things. You neglect the little moments you spend together, where you've taken a day trip out together, or have done something in the small hours between finishing school and bedtime.

I remember as a small child seeing a teenager out with their parent and they seemed to get along, whereas I percieved that all teenagers hated their parents. I vowed that I would always get along with my mum, idealizing being a teenager who walked about holding her mum's hand. Obviously that was a somewhat ridiculous notion, and of course I went through the stage where I didn't want to be seen outside with my parents. I just hope I didn't upset them too much when I scoffed at their mentionings of spending time together; I hope I never made them feel neglected by me.

Not being able to go home on mother's day is breaking my heart because I'm unable to participate in the yearly tradition of buying my mum daffodils (only great big yellow ones, none of the white or orange cop-outs) and going out to Chartwell House. My mum's told me they're not going to Chartwell this year because it's raining, they're going to Costco instead, to pick up ten tonnes of food shopping. Not exactly how she would choose to spend mother's day. My sister is still in the stage where she somewhat hates her parents, so I wonder if my mum will even get a present this year.

It's funny how distant from your parents being a teenager makes you, and then being in your 20s springboards you back closer to them. Even though I was only home last week, I can't wait until I get to go home next weekend and see my family. I've been trying not to get homesick as it is, but seeing everyone posting pictures with their mum on mother's day has definitely made me count the seconds until I can get in my car and drive home.

On Writing

When I was younger, the dream was to become an author. This was the age where I was into Jacqueline Wilson; I even went to see her to get some books signed and told her I wanted to be an author. I think this thought stemmed from when I was really young, when I took it upon myself to copy out half of a Cinderella book into a notebook. I soon grew bored of just copying, so I made up my own ending. Reading it back, it's so terrible, but at least it made me use my imagination at a young age.

From here, I began to write my own stories, and went through numerous notebooks in the process. I enjoyed imagining myself in these worlds I had created, and especially liked giving the stories to my family and getting a response to them. In primary school, we had specific times dedicated to creative writing, and I would just write solidly for an hour and a half, or however long those times were, filling up pages upon pages of my exercise books. My teacher would encourage me by letting me read my stories out to the class at the end of the session, which I enjoyed, except from the time I had reached a particularly gory stage in my imagination and became embarrassed when I had to read out my story about a man ripping his own heart from his chest.

I can remember to this day the disappointment I felt in myself after writing the most terrible story in the creative writing section of my 11+. The exam paper gave an introduction to a story, and you had to finish it whilst showing off creative skills, as well as good grammar and spelling. My nerves got to me, and I just wrote without really thinking it through, scared I would run out of time with nothing written on the paper. I remember I wrote about a weird pixie creature (from the planet Eixip, no less) visiting this girl in the middle of the night. I even cringed at it myself after I wrote it, and I was 11. After the exam, I asked the girl sitting next to me, of whom I had made friends with, what she had written, and it was some detailed detective story. I thought for sure I had failed the exam, but surprisingly passed.

Even into secondary school, I would make the most of creative writing assignments (thin on the ground as they were, and usually a small part of a larger, assessed module). My mum would often ask for copies of my stories and hand them out to the family (we're THAT kind of family). At this stage though, I hated being graded on my stories-I put too much of myself into them and could immerse myself too much in their world to care about what some teacher had defaced them with. It was at this point that I stopped writing. I had too much time devoted to revising subjects I didn't care about, like maths and religious studies, but it was important that I got a GCSE grade for them, so that I could forget about them for the rest of my life.

I feel that the latter part of secondary school stunted my creativity. That's probably harsh to say, but that's how I feel. Everything seemed guided towards getting the perfect grade, not exploring the parts of a subject that you enjoyed. I understand that's what school is like now and whether that's a good or bad thing is another discussion. Even in my favourite subject, English, which I enjoyed, I felt limited. Essay structures prevented you from steering away from the question at hand, meaning you didn't really explore away from set topics. I had stopped reading and writing in my spare time completely.

It's only now at university where I've been able to feel creative in my writing again. Yes, I am still restricted within structures and guidelines, but have more time to explore topics that interest me, because I'm not devoting that time to studying subjects that have no relevance to me (like MATHS!). This blog especially has helped me explore things that interest me, and helped me to find out my opinions on things that didn't even cross my mind before. While I am restricted in the way I set it out (so it's readable etc), I can write about whatever. And that's great.

Being a Baby

Apologies for the lack of posting recently, everything's been a bit manic.

I quite enjoy being short, it allows me to blend into the crowd and hide easily. I don't know why, but it also makes me feel more feminine; if I am wearing heels and am taller than the majority of the guys I am with, I feel like an ogre. However, being short also emphasises how ridiculously young I look-my sister is way taller than me and she is three years younger than I am. One time, we got asked if we were twins, which was awful for us both because we both aspire to be nothing like each other! As well as being short, I have a round face, which further makes me look like a child. No matter what amount of compensating I do with my fringe, I have yet to overcome it.

Older people don't understand why it is such a burden to look young. "When you're older, you'll wish you looked younger", they patronisingly say. They don't understand the difficulties of having to carry around ID EVERYWHERE you go, in case you end up in a pub or need to buy a lighter. I attended a party the other week and some guys who were sitting next to me really loudly whispered to each other that people starting uni were getting younger and younger, clearly talking about me, even though due to starting this university a year late, I was actually older than half the people in the room.

At least I share this trait with a number of celebrities, and at least I am not yet a thirty year old who still looks underage. My favourite example of a celebrity who looks half their age is Lauren Mayberry, lead singer in the band Chvrches, who is twenty-seven. I love her band and feel like I can relate to her on some level because of the age thing.

Choosing clothes is difficult. I had to avoid the dungaree trend a few years ago in order not to look like a toddler. On the other end of the scale, if you want to dress up to go out, you wonder whether you can get away with more risqué clothes, or if you will look like a try-hard. Despite having to carry round ID to prove you are in fact the age that you are, if you try to get away with child tickets on public transport, suddenly it's ridiculous that you would be considered underage. I haven't tried to get away with that for a number of years, after barely getting away with it due to my hotter friend flirting with the bus driver.

The worst is when you realise how old you are in relation to those around you. In my first year of university now, I am constantly surprised that the people I am talking to are younger than me. Similarly, I used to work with a load of sixteen/seventeen year olds, and they couldn't believe I was twenty and not their age. It becomes really difficult to judge people's age when you first meet them. It is so depressing to be told you look really young, because of the amount you feel you have changed since that age. Since I was fifteen, I worked out how to use eyeliner and NOT look like a goth (even though that was probably the aim back then). I dress better (I hope), I speak differently and many of my opinions have changed. Plus I can handle my alcohol way better!

I don't know what to do! -But watch me look back on this post in ten years and wish I'd made the most of it, unless I'm Jennifer Aniston?