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Wednesday 18 May 2011

"Name the Nicest Thing Someone has Ever Said About You"

I found this question on an online quiz (procrastination is really taking its grip).
I tried answering it and found that I couldn't. Not because nobody has ever said anything nice, they have! I just can't think of any examples.
So why then can I call to mind at least three un-nice things that people have said about me? I don't really dwell on either, so is it  a confidence thing or a self improvement thing? Or are they one an the same??? Way back when cave men trotted around the country side, those who could run fast, kill well and were presumably attractive were the ones who bred. We can imagine that those who weren't naturally pre-dispositioned to be this way trained hard, learnt to use arrows and clubs and...had the equivalent of cave man botox. Whatever that may have been. They were bad at something so improved. Children do the same at schools all over the world. They don't do well in a spelling test so they (are supposed to) try harder for the nest. Is this not what negative comments constitute to? A way to make ourselves more appealing to a wider variety of people, because let's face it, the smelly, fat slob sat in the corner reading 'Take A Break' probably isn't going to be an employer's first choice. And sadly, that is generally what life has come to; the office has become the new hunting ground and where success was once measured on physical ability it now has more to do with the ability to climb and network company ladders.
If you say anything nice to me, anything at all, I will try to remember it. It just seems like evolution doesn't deem it a satisfactory use of mind space. Either that or I should re-assess this question when I have fewer exams, I'm less stressed and generally in a happy frame of mind.

Monday 9 May 2011

My Good Friend Nigella

It's said that the kitchen is the heart of the home, and although my kitchen currently looks more like a post apocalyptic refuge, this sentiment is most certainly true. Food is one of life's biggest comforts; it is necessary to eat at least once every three weeks to carry on living, a piece of chocolate or bowl of rice pudding can make the entire world seem like a better place and there really is nothing quite like a greasy £4 pizza at 3am. But before I sound like a secretly obese whale (although how I'd keep that a secret I'm not sure) let's also remember that food is what you eat with friends, where you go on dates (having said that, I've never really understood the attraction of watching a virtual stranger shovel food into a hole in his face while I frantically refrain from dripping pasta sauce all over my top and around my mouth. But each to their own) and an all round bonding experience. 

This is perhaps why celebrity chefs and cooks (Nigella does NOT like being called a chef) have such a special place in our own hearts. Many people are on apparent first name terms with Jamie, Heston and Delia. Food somehow connects us; it is something that everyone has in common no matter what nationality, class, age or gender. It is virtually impossible to dislike someone who cooks good food...which is a little damning for me when I manage to ruin scramble eggs. But practice makes perfect...Breakfast anyone? 

Saturday 7 May 2011

The Real Point of Uni

Maybe the title of this is a tad generic. Should be something more along the lines of "Why I want to get a degree". I'll change it later. Probably.
When someone asks me what I want to do after I graduate, I instantly reply that I want to do Masters (and no, not in Hull). Although the thought of getting a job and being -dare i say it?- responsible absolutely terrifies me, I don't want to prolong my education to stall for time. Nor do I actually want the Masters to further my career prospects (just don't tell my mum this), although most of the jobs that I'd like do require one. Instead the mere knowledge is why I want those letters after my name. It excites me. Alot. Learning in such depth about something that interests me.
In turn the reason I am currently an undergrad is for similar reasons. I just like learning about Wordsworth's politics, Hardy's character formation and Middleton's depiction of London. For me, my degree is more of an indulgence that has the added benefit of career prospects, valuable life experience (from living with other people and budgeting to not drinking sambuca) and meeting new people, some of whom will prove to be incredible friends and others useful contacts, than being a total necessity. It's a bit like an expensive but high quality pair of beautiful shoes. Costs a lot, you do it for love but ultimately they save your feet from getting dirty. I could read the books at home in the same way I could wear crocs or something equally as repugnant.
There is nothing quite like an active, engaging seminar where everyone has their own opinions, the tutor encourages discussion and you leave feeling thoroughly intellectually stimulated.

Yet despite all this I'm still struggling to find motivation to write my essay.