enough for one day

Its time for me to go home. All this studying malarkey has made me forget to eat, which in turn makes me eat junk, which is not my favourite food group, contrary to popular belief. I also have a really strong urge to find some new music, so I want to raid various people CD collections in hope of inspiration. I need something new to make me listen again. I have been listening to the second John Mayer, and its good enough, but hardly totally inspiring. Boo.

The Boy's parent's have bought me a present from their trip to Italy. My mum sent me a text msg addressed to both of us. Apparently, we've both become part of the families. Encouraging. Apparently, his parents also bought him a monkey, so I'm sure I'm going to have to follow up on this. Maybe his text message didn't make proper sense ...

gmail on ebay

Oh my goodness. Gmail invited being bidded on ebay for up to $93. Are they insane? Especially when you get it for free from Blogger whenever you use their service. That's why I have my cutie of an address. That is so weird. But I supposed I might be almost cool now ...

New York Times sums it all up ...

Oh no, its me! And just about 90% of all other people who blog are talked about in this New York Times article. Its got me thinking that my time should not be wasted in this way already. I'm on a slippery slope, and it has most definitely compelled me to get back to work.

more clicks

Someone who knows more about this than I do. Spiderware.com is all about social software, like Friendster, LinkedIn, Orkut.

clickety-click

The The AlwaysOn Generation is something I agree with, but it is something that is more applicable to the US than to the UK. Social networking is something that I am definitely interested in but I am not sure whether it is a way forward or a step back, out of proper networking. Ah well, I don't really need to think about it now. What I need to think about is the American Civil War. Right now I'm working on causes, especially slavery.

Back to the Grindstone

Having had a complete weekend off from studying, and thoroughly enjoying the experience, its a bit hard to find myself back in the library. Furthermore, not only am I back studying, I am having to start at the very beginning again, something I had completely forgotten about. I have barely even looked at my final course, The American Civil War, and so I'm at the horrible stage of not really knowing how much I even have to do or not do right now. This course is so badly taught that I cannot even name the key scholars or arguments. Baad start. It will be fine, I do know that. But what I don't know is how long it is going to take me to be fine. And that's annoying. Especially when The Boy is off to Cornwall to go surfing. Jealous? Just a little.

I fought the law ...

Just went to see my DoS, and he was quite helpful, giving me advice on grad schools, and talking about the Special Circumstances committee, so I feel like that was quite good. However, it was not the highlight of my day dealing with authority. That came whenever I actually fought with my landlord and won!!! This has never happened. Normally he is an absolute bastard, and absolutely useless. However, in a war over whether a joiner will come in this week to fix our doors, I said absolutely no way, since we have exams, and for once he backed down. Shocking. Truly shocking.

I miss The Boy already. Maybe I should get the train down and go see him. Doh.

Sometimes, I think I must be the most conservative, set in stone, person, and I feel sorry for The Boy, since he upsets all my little patterns and habits, and then I’m sure I get grumpy. I should really work on that, shouldn’t I? Yes!! Radio 1 are currently playing one of my favourite songs – Fight Test by the Flaming Lips, which is a blatant rip-off of Father and Son by Cat Stevens, but its still great.

I think that Ash, much as I love the dear boys, should be banned from using the word ‘summer’ in their songs, because it is severely over, over used. Strange, coming from Northern Ireland, which is hardly known for its shiny happy weather. Maybe the power of the sun is greater there, from its under-exposure …

Fun weekend. Its so nice to actually spend some quality time with The Boy, even though he was complaining that it was rushed. Yes, it probably was, but I will be going and spending as much time as possible with him as soon as my exams finish. We had quite a chilled out time, eating fish and chips, lying in, wandering round town, doing some shopping, and drinking iced coffees. I also treated him to a special smoothie. Yum yum. He’s on half-term now, so he’s got a week of relaxation whilst I am stuck continuing on in the study groove, but its only two weeks to go!!

I have to go and talk to my director of studies today about various things concerning exams and things. He is a nice enough guy, but just a little lacking in people skills. He has got a job next year doing some sort of curation of documents, and that will be so perfect for him, because he is totally sweet and adorable, but just not very happy talking and involving himself with human interaction. I always get the impression he’s a little scared whenever I come into his office.

Flatmate Number One’s brother brought home a stolen pool table last night, which is cluttering up our posho foyer. I am sure the neighbours are currently loving us. Well, whatever, we’re out in a month! We also had a long conversation regarding bee-keeping. Both of us think it’s a great idea. We’re already planning out hives and honey. Very cool and back to rural idyll.

The Boy said it was like we were back on a first date when we first saw each other on Saturday. I know that sounds kinda bad, but I think it was actually that we weren’t taking each other for granted. Well, that’s how I took it. I was just so giggly and happy to see him, but also a little nervous, because it had been a while, and because we’ve both been under pressure recently, so we’ve been stressed. It was nice to be relaxed with him.

Find of the day: an old pair of Prada green and white bowling shoes. I haven’t worn them in over a year, but they are very very cool, so I feel bad that they had been relegated in my wardrobe. Shame on me.

Today is a fashiony day. I think it’s because I have taken the weekend off from work, and am going to do all the things that I love, including looking through my old clothes for potential re-runs. I also am about to go shopping – wahey! Mum told me that I could get myself a little treat, so I’m thinking beaded slippers. But we’ll see what the shops have in. Its been a while, so I have no idea what’s been going on, apart from I know that I will not be needed a bikini for a while.

I have noticed that I am typing this pretty slowly for me, and I think its because my hands havent’t recovered from the 40 pages of sprawling handwriting I produced in yesterday’s hell experience. It was most definitely the hardest exam I have ever done, and probably will ever do. I have done exceptionally badly in it as well. I knew what I was writing was of a pretty poor standard, basic, unstructured rubbish really, and I know that I’m going to get torn apart for that. Dear oh dear. But there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Apart from relax over the weekend, and then start working for the next one. Boo.

The Boy is coming up in a few hours. It will be nice to see him, since its been forever. Well, two weeks. But a lot can happen in two weeks. So yes, hopefully it will be a fish n chips cinema night, which I would love love love.

My family are all at a wedding this weekend. Everyone but me. Not because I was not invited, because I was, but because I thought, quite correctly, that I would have exams and it wouldn’t be a good idea. Little Sis finished her exams on Thursday so had to travel with the worst hangover ever yesterday. Ha ha ha. She sounded quite out of form whenever I spoke to her last night.

So, the last ever Friends was shown in Britain last night. It was ok, but not the best ever really. I have to say, as cute endings, I thought that Phoebe’s wedding was a lovely lovely episode. Just whenever Chandler doesn’t say anything smart and just says, ‘you look beautiful’ before they walk up the aisle.

Flatemate Number Two just came in and talked some philosophy about religion, the will, the eternal, and Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. Interesting enough, I guess, but I am not sure I would have the patience to actually study so many people who I completely did not agree with.

Weird. When I set my alarm for 8.00am I wake at 7.30. When I set it for 6am, I wake at 5.30. My body must have the most reliable alarm system ever.

Exam in 2hrs. Little stressed.

Oh brilliant!! A Million Love Songs v1.0 is the perfect way to sicken yourself with some truly nasty cloying music. Flatmate Number One will LOVE the Take That reference. I think I'll leave it out of my future compendium of American music and history stuff though. Not exactly high, or even medium, culture.

Well, drama over. The doctor gave me the top science advice of rubbing vaseline on the mole so as to calm down the irritation, and come back in a week. He also used a very high tech magnifing paper weight that looked like it came free from a drug company to measure it - 7mm by 4mm. So it looks like I am avoiding the scalpel for a week. He was also involving himself in some form of sublimal messaging making sure that I would come back to him by saying 'My name in Dr Brown' as every second sentance. He must have just been to a 'how to make myself memorable' seminar yesterday.

Ever had an experience of thinking you have bought one food item, putting it in your mouth and getting disgustingly shocked by what you find? Yep, that just happened to me. I thought I bought nice crispy apple chips, instead they turned to be soft and squashy. Not quite what I had in mind and now they are giving me a stomach ache. Boo.

I'm having a health scare. I got sunburned on my arm last week, and today I noticed a scab has formed over a mole I have. Scabs are bad, this much I know for sure. So I'm going to head over to the doctor in a little bit, and hopefully they can reassure me. What intsead will happen is that they will have me get the mole whipped off, and instead, I'll be left with a nice scar on my arm. I scar like a maniac, or whatever scars easily. I had a mole off when I was ten, and you can still see the holes in my skin where the stitches went in and out. Great. This is just what you want the day before an exam. Plus, I can't even tell my ex-dermatologist mother (she who had the mole ripped off my back last time) because she is the worrying type, and has my cousin's wedding to go to on Saturday, which she just wouldn't enjoy as much should she know her eldest daughter was facing certain death through malignant melanoma. Melodramatic, moi?

Sometimes I think that this blog is really just a list of stuff I want. And its true. It is. But really, its a permament record of the fact that at one stage of my life I thought I couldn't live without certain things, but inevitably I will not buy them, because (a) I don't have the money and (b) fortunately I don't have that compulsive spending problem documented in Vogue this month. So its more of a tracking device for my current trends and desires. For anyone's information, they currently include things for the REN skincare line, oversize Jackie O sunglasses, a kaftan, white birkenstocks to replace my cheap versions which are a constant liability. The Boy will vouch for bleeding toes in Portugal. Beaded slippers would be nice, as would the ever-desired new pair of summer trousers. French Connection as ever are doing a nice range. But you know? You couldn't possibly define me through my material wants. That would be far too one dimensional for a shallow girl like me.

Maybe because I have a short attention span, but really because I know that boundaries are so very hard to stay within, flash fiction is becoming my new little interest. Dave Eggars writes a piece every week in the Saturday Guardian every week, and its always very tight. Am I jealous? Not a little.

Remembered: I have bagels in the freezer. See, I’m not always a domestic nightmare. Just when it comes to tidying my room. And right now, eating healthily. I’m dreaming of vitamins and meat, but of which are sorely lacking in my diet. That’s another thing that is all change come Friday. Back to the gym, back to Tesco, bring on some real food. Ooh yeh.

Lunchbreak. My little treat of the day was going to go online at Starbucks instead of traipsing all the way up to the library to do so, but then I discovered that it cost a whole fiver an hour! Scandalous, no? So no, I chose not to give T-mobile my money. I’ll relish the walk later, thank you very much.

Days before exams are always weird, I think. Flatmate Number One and I were talking about whether it is best to be the panicker or the calm person. (In a conversation about an exam, there is always at least one of both). She likes to be the panicker, because she feels that she is not living in a world of denial or false complacency. I like to be the calm one, because it’s a sign that I have come to terms with upcoming events. Right now, I veer between the two. I know some topics really well, and others are still taking forever to learn. Everyone says that you can’t learn that much the day before an exam. I’m hoping you can.

So, I told The Boy about this last night. I honestly was not sure how he would take it, but I think that he is ok with the fact that his girlfriend is fast approaching become a time-wasting internet geek. Actually, I am so far from being a geek it is frustrating, because I do not understand or know how to do all the things that I want to be doing. I am so unfortunately held back by my lack of knowledge, and I do not even know how to start properly learning. I suppose once my exams finish I’ll spend some quality time brushing up on my skills. I think maybe, though, that I might not have a brain that thinks in code, as such. I’ve actually yet to work out what my brain does think it, because it is most certainly not as a colonial American either.

It turns out that half a kilo of strawberries is not an adequate breakfast and by 10am I was absolutely starving again. I am sure that my diet of mocha frappuccinos is really filling me up with all that ice, water, and cream calories. Plus, I still have not remedied my breakfast situation, and what with getting up at 6am tomorrow, I know that I need to do something about that.

The Boy said he would come up on Saturday instead of Sunday – yeh!!! I really wanted to spend this weekend with him properly, because it’s been ages since we spent some time together that I wasn’t stressing about exams. It’s not that I’m finished then, but I will be on my weekend ‘off’ from studying, and he is the most perfect distraction and relaxation tool. It’s a singular skill of his. That and making me get into absurdly cold water in the name of attempting to ride a plank of fibre-glass.

Time for my round-up of the day. I thought it was going to be absolutely glorious after having worked so hard yesterday, I was filled with hope and optimism that I was going to become a seventeenth century America genius. However, a spanner was thrown in my plans not five minutes after getting out of bed, because I discovered that I finished the last of my yummy Fauchon hot chocolate yesterday, and therefore had no breakfast. Things were coming apart fast ...

Having to think on my feet a little, I traipsed up to the little shoppee to get some pens, of which they had a truly pathetic selection, and then to Starbucks for my corporate slum. I have to admit that I sat there for the whole day getting quite a lot done, and getting encouraging texts from my mother, who I have to admit received a text message yesterday which had a swear word in it. If she didn't know that her daughter can sometimes have the mouth of a sailor, especially in times of stress, she does now.

Starbucks working was fine. I was delightfully interrupted by a phone call from The Boy, and we got to talking about the modern young white male, and his role in society. Basically, he is feeling side-lined (I am not sure if this is the correct word, I shall have to think about it) since he is not allowed to celebrate his role in the way that women, ethnic minorities, and women are. I can see his point. The sins of his fathers are being visited upon him, and he feels that he has no cultural significance. I am not sure that I agree with all he had to say, but I think that its an interesting point of contention that white men today do feel that whatever acheivements that they may make, they cannot be celebrated because they did not have to overcome any cultural hurdles. Hmmm. I then got to thinking, because that's what I do, how would I insult a white man? I mean, there are plenty of cuss words involving people of almost every ethnic background, and also involving my gender, but there are very few demonstrating whiteness. I suppose it demonstrates the control that white men used to have over language, but I am not sure that etymology moves as fast as society would have us believe. Or rather, does it keep up? This is not to say that I am a champion now of the white man's cause, or I am going to instigate a support group of suppressed white men, or anything like that, but its interesting to think of some sort of post-cold war crisis of masculinity. He's probably going to be pissed I wrote that.

So, I sent an email to a professor yesterday, because I am such a suck, suggesting a book for his class next year, and he wrote back suggesting that he come visit me whenever I eventually make it the the Western US for grad school. Forward, no? Pity our exams are anonymously marked.

Tomorrow is my final day of revision for Seventeenth Century America, my course from hell. Usually, I take the day before exams pretty casually, and not doing much reading, studying or stressing, and more letting the information forment in my brain like a fine wine, but to hell with that. This paper is Beaujolis Nouveau all the way, because tomorrow I am going to be studying my ass off again in my spot at Starbucks, mainlining mocha frappuccinos. Yum yum. Brain food. Like my banana and peanut butter sandwich for dinner.

Things I am looking forward to doing this weekend since I will have a modicum of freedom: tidying my room, going for a run, going shopping, reading the Saturday paper, hanging out with The Boy, going to see The Day After Tomorrow, watching the last ever Friends, Big Brother going Evil, eating fish and chips on the roof, sunbathing on the roof, sleeping in. Only 48hrs to go ...

Poor old Saatchi. All that money and time spent big uping the YBAs, and then a fire has gone and destroyed all that important conceptual art. On a personal level, I would have loved to see some the Chapman bros stuff, and Tracey Emin's tent, but now I never will. I think its a great shame. Poor Saatchi. He doesn't have much luck with his YBA investments. I think that Marc Quinn's sculpture of his head in his own blood also went down the tubes. Quinn froze his blood in a cast and then it was put in a freezer before it went on display, apart from the cleaner unplugged the freezer and the sculpture melted. Apparently Saatchi was pretty decent about it, but to lose all this as well - dear oh dear.

I did my study, I called The Boy, and then I was wondering through the random sites that are MIT Open CourseWare. Yes, the minions, the little people, are allowed to look at, and even read themselves, what the smart kids learn. Awesome. I already feel educated knowing that just as soon as I finish my degree, I'm going to go do some more learning just for fun. Yes, I guess its true, I am a geek. I just like knowing stuff. Plus, its useful for dinner party conversations.

Aren't these games pretty? And a fun, "I'm in the library and I should be working" timewaster. There are a million things I could be doing rather than trying to make a star light up, but fancy that, I'm not. Ok, ok. This is it. For the next hour I am most definitely doing all work and no play. NO DISTRACTIONS.

I have been having some serious trouser issues recently. For some reason, I don't seem to have any that I like beyond my jeans, and I really don't want to be wearing jeans whilst I study. I want to be wearing something loose and funky and light. My favourite all-time item of clothing ever, a pair of blue baggy-ish trousers from Hollister have been getting a lot of action recently, and that's cool and all, but I do feel like I wear them everyday. Anway, I went on a hunt to replace them, or get something similar, and they don't have any trousers in stock - I guess people in California don't wear anything covering their ankles after March, but I guess, I live in Edinburgh and I do! But you know, just because I didnt find any trousers doesn't mean that I came away empty handed. Check out this v cool poncho!! Its so awesome. If anyone sees this and is feeling generous, please please send it to me. It would make me feel lovely and summery, and I would wear it all year round, with my thermal underwear on underneath during the nippier months.

Wow. I have had such a nice day. Apart from being woken at 7.50 (that’s a whole 10minutes before my alarm goes off!) by my poor sick boyfriend, it’s been perfectly lovely. I finally got my work groove on, by finding, admittedly rather late, my work strategy. Writing pages of notes until my arm cramps up whilst drinking sparkling water at the ‘study desk’ in my local Starbucks seems to be doing the trick. I got to listen to some terribly posh girls in the year below talk about their summer plans involving working at Wimbledon (“but not with everyone else who ‘does’ Wimbledon, dahling”), working for some head-hunter (“I’ve done it before, so its not exciting. I might have to call them and come a week late; I’ve got so many parties to go to in June!”), and going to Mexico. It’s quite fun chat to listen to when you are studying how the rich kept the poor down in colonial Virginia.

One of the nicest parts of my day was when an old work buddy called me for some chat and to find out when I come back to Belfast. It’s always nice to be loved. Especially when it comes from someone out of the blue. Another perfectly lovely highlight was meeting Flatmate Number One whilst walking to the library and getting a lovely long hug from her. Just the little things in life that make you smile. The Boy has a wonderful habit of making me smile with his silly, silly but perfectly lovely text messages. From someone who did not even have a working mobile phone until February, he has taken to txting like a duck to water.

I have a problem. I am going to be stranded at Stansted airport on July 3rd. Typically, Ryanair flights are designed to reduce your chances of getting any connecting flights, and so it looks like I cannot get home to native Belfast until the next day, which leaves me a night in the airport. Not a chance. Although I’ll probably have my sleeping bag with me, since I’ll have to bring it with me due to all my stuff being taken home to day before I leave for France. Moving out and going on holiday simultaneously is not the most simplest multi-task I have ever done. So I managed to book 3 of the 4 flights that I needed to today. That’s not too bad for me.

Guess what? I want stuff. I'm a girl, and that's what girls do. So, if you really really like me, have been mean to me in the past and are feeling guilty, then you can go to my Amazon wishlist
and pick something to send me. I've been thoughtful, I didn't just pick the really expensive stuff. There's something for everyone's budget here. Its a shame that I was limited to books, music, and computers stuff, otherwise I could have had a total field day, but still, I think that the 45 items here are good for starters. What, is that the postman ringing already?

I took a test onPolitical Compass - very interesting. I am Economic Left/Right: -5.25 and Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -6.05. So, who am I next to on the chart? Ghandi, the Dalai Lama, and Nelson Mandela. Up there with the modern day saints, and I didn't even cheat.

I have to admit, that despite my absolute obsession with notepads, in particular ones from Smythson , which are just divine (actually, everything from Smuthson is divine), I am not much of a writer. Sure, I carry a Muji notebook everywhere I go, and its where most of my ideas for this go first, but actual handwriting of more than a few sentances rarely gets done. And that explains the case of tingles I now have in my elbow having hand written 35+ pages today whilst I was revising. I decided it was time to get active (thanks to The Boy, who gave me that tip), and it totally helped. I really feel that I have managed to learn quite a lot, as well as wasted several trees and run out of pens in the process. Still, no pain, no gain.

Flatmate Number One and I have just been talking about “The Fear”: the genuine panic that sets in pretty much exactly one week before your final exam. “The Fear” is vaguely motivational, but largely incapacitating. It is really more of an abstract realisation that you have created a situation from which it is too late to change one’s destiny, apart from to make it worse; ie you have to work your arse of just to maintain the status quo.

“The Fear” is the most depressing part of finals. The constant work and the close relationship that you have with your favourite desk at the library are not exactly crucial elements of a fulfilling life in my eyes, but the worst part of exams by a long long way is the fact that you are more likely to go down than up, and that your fate has really been sealed. Most people at this university will get a 2:1. A 2:1 is a good degree; I am currently in line for one. If I worked really hard and got asked nice questions in the exam (by nice I mean ones that are tailored so that I could answer them in my own, unique style, wowing my examiner with my precise knowledge and my original slant upon the said inquisition), then I maybe could get a first. But knowing that me and 90% of the people around me are getting 2:1s before we have even sat the exam is rather depressing. There is a sense that there is no point in working, because we shall all get the same result, but if we don’t work, there is that chance we will get the lowly 2:2. But worse, all this work, the last month of not having fun and getting drunk, of endless reading and staying up late in the library, will somehow seem wasted and anti-climatic whenever I read my grade off the noticeboard and see my number, along with hundreds of other numbers, reading 2:1. For me, there will not be a sense of achievement. Just standard, like everybody else. And then, what would have been the point of all that work? Of course, because we are all doing it. Nobody I know is skiving off, not bothering right now. We have all come this far, and we are probably all just about as smart as each other, we probably deserve to be ranked just about the same as each other. How democratic.

I have a wish right now. I wish that my ever-so-pretty ballet pumps were not made of synthetic materials, but leather. Right now, they make my feet sweat, and therefore my feet smell when I wear them. A nasty and unfitting context to their prettiness. I suppose the solution would be to get some odour-eaters for them. Its on my Tesco wishlist. Along with toilet paper, razor blades, sparkling water, strawberries, and some form of meat. The basics of human existence.

I made this!!! Its the flake by scarlettholly. Looking at the other ones on the page, mine is a little tame, but I didn't spent hours on it, and I'm sure the other kids did. Still, gave me a childish sense of creativity. Gosh, what a lot of studying I've got done tonight.

Listen to this!!! I have really tried not to laugh out loud at Colin doing his hurt Irishman act, because I should not find it funny that a Belfast-man has got this far on the radio, but the Irish-Scottish charms of this pair are waaay too funny. Everyday I try to study during 1 and 3, but really, I just end up gigglling. Gal Pal used to feel like this about Sara Cox, who's off to have her baby, and now I've found my radio genius. Although right now, I'm listening online to NPR and feeling quite saintly and well-informed. Library and public radio. Could I be anymore educated?

I usually try to avoid political statements, not because I'm not political, but I think there are hundreds of people out there who do it better than me, but this Susan Sontag article from The Guardian really blew me away. I've been really quite shocked and have a hard time looking at the photographs from Abu Ghraib, and this article is a really interesting look at the power of photography of this nature, and what it means for the US today. Personally, I really admire Sontag's photography, but I've never really looked at her writing, but I really enjoyed this over my morning brioche.

I guess I am starting this a little early, since I haven’t actually graduated yet, but I think its pretty much a cert that I will come out of Edinburgh with some form of degree, unless I am found guilty of some undiscovered crime which I have not yet committed. So this is a chronicle of the aftermath of attaining a challenging yet not entirely practical degree in American Studies MA (Hons) from the prestigious Scottish institution that is the University of Edinburgh. It is certainly a fun degree; I have had a great time studying it, which could be something to do with my natural love for the subject. What I may lack in natural talent I make utp in enthusiasm. However, I am doing fine on the academic front, so I must not be that untalented.

The eternal question of what to do next pervades most of activities and thoughts. Although the pressing nature of finals take up much time, the future is always the reason behind keeping our heads in our books and desperately trying to ignore the glorious sunshine and the temptation to go and play in the park. Ignoring the sunshine is not always necessary though, if you are lucky enough to have access to a perfectly safe roof for sunbathing that we do, which facilitates the suntanning-studying combination, which had led to funky tan lines and a slight tingling sensation in my shins as I type this.

Moments of introspection, as I said earlier, inevitably lead to thoughts of the future, and how little is actually known, or settled. Obviously, we all have plans, hopes, ambitions, but real-time activities? Not really. And furthermore, I am not even sure what it is I want to do. I have a lot of interests in things that I want to learn more about, take courses in, and study by myself, but not to sure what I would like to be paid to do, to be responsible to others for. Furthermore, there are huge numbers of jobs that I would love, that I am simply not smart enough to do. For instance, I would love to be a policy analysist for a U.S. senator or committee, but I am not even sure that I have spelt it right (it currently has little red underlines in my wordprocessor, but then again, so does wordprocessor, so I do not entirely trust its spelling advice).

There is also the dirty question of money. As I said, I am not entirely without plans. In fact, I have one very concrete plan in place, and that is a proposed round-the-world trip with my Gal Pal. We plan to leave sometime early-ish next year, and spend about six months basically taking a very long holiday experiencing different cultures and challenging ourselves whilst we find out just where are the nicest beaches, the cutest $10 hotels, and whether small Brazilian children are sweeter than small Vietnamese children. We’re only young once, so we’re basically taking our career break before we even have a career. Of course, this all takes some hard-earned cash, and trust me, it will be hard to earn it, given the nature of the job market at the moment, the fact that there are thousands of equally useless but enthusiastic graduates like me. Compound this with a very adorable Boyfriend who happens to live a rather long way from me, involving plans or boats to see each other. Certainly feels like I have my work cut out for me.