Back on the treadmill.

Yesterday, I finally forced myself to go back to the gym, after what must've been a few months off, while I was stressing over the end of uni, deadlines and wandering into the real world. 

Nobody told me thag I would be at a disadvantage if I had a degree. Not one person. Admittedly the job hunt wasn't as pro-active as it should've been to begin with, but now it's in full swing. At the age of almost 22, I am unemployed with a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. I want to break into that discipline, but living in the north east of England, it seems relatively impossible. I can see people trying to conceal their eyes rolling into the back of their heads as I announce 'I want to write.' Frankly, if I had a £1 for every time someone had said to me, 'so are you just going to teach?' I wouldn't even need a job. Credit goes out to those who see that as a life they want, but I'm not one of those people. I lack the patience, the desire or the determination to teach. My passion lies with writing. Picking up a pen, or in this case, my iPhone, to blog. It's soothing writing down my thoughts, even if I'm editing them all as I do so. 

I've been pretty down about the job hunt, as well as some other things lately, but yesterday I powered through. I set my alarm, got up, had breakfast, put my gym attire on, grabbed my keys, a water bottle and some headphones, and I was off. Although I struggled through the hour I was there, I felt better for forcing myself to get out of bed and exercise. It was a step forward. It was something pro-active, and until then, I don't think I'd considered it so. Whether I used to like to hear it or not, my P.E. teacher used to tell me that, 'exercise relieves all your stress, Eleanor' and yet, despite her prevailing, I hated it. I walked into my physical education lessons, entering via the changing room back doors, and while all the other girls were chatting away, I didn't say much. 

I passionately hated PE. 'I can't do it,' was my favourite excuse. In case you hadn't noticed, I have a strong, stubborn negativity about me at times. Even at the height, I was a 16 year old who was very self conscious, and didn't believe she was sporty whatsoever. I'm still not. I still have that attitude. I will probably never run a marathon. I will never be on a sports team. But I figured out early on, that was because I didn't want to be, rather than any capabilities I did or didn't lack.

My point being, the exercise that once scared me half to death, actually does make me feel better. It's a stress reliever definitely, for me anyway. When discussing this with my boyfriend via text the other day, I just happened to drop in a relevant Legally Blonde quote, and he had no idea what I was saying, having never seen such a brilliant film. I'll leave you with the quote, that is seriously relevant, very daft and almost always puts a smile on people's faces. Even after what can be described as a really shit few weeks, or even months, I know that getting back on the treadmill makes things fade away for a bit. 

'Exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy, and happy people just don't shoot their husbands, they just DON'T.'

-Elle Woods, Legally Blonde.

The Dissertation nightmare

It has just occurred to me that it's been ages since I posted anything here, and not that I am under the impression that my (ha!) readers are eagerly awaiting the next update in my boring life with bated breath, but still, I like the fact that someone may be reading my chaotic ramblings, and getting something out of them. I've been busy to say the least. I should be busy right now, but I'm nursing a massive tequila fuelled hangover, and am lying on my bed, feeling bloated from a massive Nandos feast, so yep, I am not being the constructive person I need to be. My final uni assignments are due in 7th May. After that, it's game over. I will officially be out of the education system after years of school, sixth form and university. As of July, I will be awarded my DEGREE!!! What! I know, I can't believe it either. Still a few hurdles to go, but the one suggested in the title is settled at least. 

My dissertation. The thing I was dreading the most. 8,000 words of prose. I pride myself in being able to write prose at ease, and yet I underestimated the workload. I took on a massive challenge in my piece's structure, and it's taken me months of drafting, reading, redrafting, moaning, swearing and sending passive-aggressive stressy emails to my tutor, but finally, it's done. I need it binding and handing in to the office, and then that's a weight off my shoulders. With a Shakespeare essay, and an Eastenders portfolio still to tackle though, I can't relax just yet. With the aim to finish my work almost a week early, I am stressy! I'm uninspired, bored and just ready for a break. I have absolutely no career path in mind. I have no future prospects that are practical or in any way probable. I want to write. It is my passion. It runs through my veins and it is the only thing that has ever come naturally to me. To pursue a career in it, would be life changing. I'm a bit lost though, as I am a student and I need the money, as I'll soon have over £30,000 of student debt (HAHAHAHA WHAT.) and I have no idea how much money that is, and I'll never know. But still, I hope I get somewhere after three gruelling years of hard work, stress and tears. I've met some lovely people at uni, had some genuinely brilliant laughs, learned things I wouldn't even imagine, and yet, given my time over, I'm not sure I would make the same choices again. For me, uni, even from living at home, has been hard. I am not a naturally gifted person. I work hard for my marks, I've had three 1st marks in as many years, and I honestly felt like framing them, because I was shocked and proud to get those marks. I've never ever not put work in and fluked something. I'm the kind of person who has to read the novels, revise the plays, recite the poems, turn up with annotated copies of things, make notes in lectures and pay attention to what I'm told. Nothing about these last three years has been easy. There were times I've been ready to chuck the towel in, ups and downs like you'd never believe, and not just in my uni life, but it's been an experience all the same. 

there will be a certain amount of nostalgia when we raise a glass to the last three years, say a fond farewell to our fellow students and step out into the cruel wide world as graduates, as adults with degrees who are supposed to have their shit together. I'll miss it, maybe not for the reasons I should, but God, there will be a teary moment somewhere down the line. I'm leaving what I've always known, because it's time, I guess. It's time to be the person I've become. 

Once again.

This time last year, I was determined that 2014 would be the best year yet. In good old fashioned, clichéd style, my eyes were full of optimism and motivation. The blood pumping through my veins was buzzing with excitement. The new year countdown would be the best yet. Everyone would be smiling, merry and singing to auld lang syne with tequila slammers at hand. 

This was a world away from how I saw in 2014. In fact, I can't even remember half of it. I spent around two hours in the pub, after spending four getting ready, and countless more in prep and organisation. What started out as a casual, sociable night with friends soon turned into me doing a dissapearing act. I then ended up at a then friend's house, totally off my face on 60% proof white rum (wray & nephew shots will make you hate yourself the very second it passes your lips.) 

I had a numb face and barely any control of my legs, but luckily I had someone to make sure I was okay. Giggly, embarrassingly drunk and a total mess, I end up at my *friend's* house and end up meeting his family, in my drunk stupor. Luckily, everyone was numbed by alcohol which made the event a bit less awkward. More drinks, more laughter, and more celebrations. I woke up beside him with a banging headache, a raging hangover and the biggest smile on my face. 

The friend in question has now been my boyfriend for the last 11 months and I couldn't be happier or luckier. A new start doesn't always come hand in hand with a new year, but maybe instead of the completion of an old one. There's nothing to say you can't change something any day. New starts aren't just for January 1st, even if mine was.

From now on.

Seven days into 2014, and I've just sort of realised, where are my resolutions?! As a slightly neurotic, occasionally OCD person, I love to make lists. Shopping lists, to do lists, reminder lists, anything. So this is it. The one list that should count, right? My New Years resolutions. Here goes nothing, (or may be everything.)

1. Be happy. I mean it. Really, genuinely happy. This year has got off to a great start, so here's to hoping to just gets better. This year, I put my happiness first. I do what's good for me. 

2. Work harder. Uni wise. Also, I need a job. I constantly live outside of my means, and I need to get a grip and start living in the real world, even if I don't like it much. Everyone keeps telling me I'm so capable, so maybe it's about time I proved them right. 

3. Take risks. Lots of them. I'm tired of being scared of doing something, because of the chances of failure, messing things up or just not working out how I'd like. The bottom line is, if I'm not willing to take a risk every once in a while, I probably won't get to where I want to be. 

So, there's three. Seems a bit OTT to do many more, and it'll just fall into my obsessive list-making habit anyway if I continue. Today has been tiring, in the best possible sense. Even if I didn't do an awful lot. I'm drained. The festive season is well and truly over. New year is just some nostalgic memory fading on the horizon. The banners have gone, the decorations ripped miserably down as the clocks changed over and the ball dropped. There was no messing about. No hesitation. Once it's over, it's over. We don't dwell on it. There's dibs on who gets to sit on Boxing Day and say "well that's that over for another year" in such a nonchalant way that you'd think we didn't kick up such a fuss in the first place. 

To me, the eight days between Christmas Eve and new year are the only good things about winter. The hustle and bustle of eveything seasonal. The panic-buying, the happy crowds getting all tense and impatient, the food and not forgetting, the eight or so day binge we all have on alcohol. (Okay, most of us.) So it's all over. The presents packed away, no tinsel in sight, back to work, school and uni we go. Real life spells January blues, snow on it's way and the usual post-Christmas fads that usually die out by the second week of the year. I'm tired. Okay, scratch that, I'm absolutely exhausted. Everything is just so. Every smile, every breath, every movement, it all seems..well, right. I keep gushing about how happy I am, but I honestly can't emphasise it enough. (Lukas, you can take credit for this! You got a shoutout, even if you didn't want one, but I'm pretty sure you're grinning right now.) It's a hell of a big deal for me, and I'm still getting used to it. 

Happy nonsense.

Right now, I'm even struggling to write clearly. And no, I'm not drunk. I'm actually stone cold sober, and yet I couldn't make sense right now to save my life. I feel lost. Drugged up to the eyeballs. Totally, irrevocably wrapped up in my own life to even come up for air. Selfish as it may be, I really don't care. I'm stupidly happy. It's ridiculous. I've found someone who has the amazing ability to make me grin uncontrollably. Someone, who I won't name, because sometimes, secrets are nice. I don't know, would he like to be named? If so, I might spill. Then again, it is just a blog. I don't think I've ever met anyone that makes me this happy. Someone I'm so comfortable around. Who knows me, even the stupid things. My ability to quote the entire boxset of Friends, knows how neurotic I can be, my coffee habit and love for sambuca. My quips and traits, flaws and failings, passions and dreams. I have absolutely no clue why he isn't running a mile, but I'm unspeakably grateful that he isn't. I'm grinning from ear to ear, totally, utterly high on life. 

21 days and counting.

So, I've heard Fairytale of New York about half a dozen times today, there's a tree and lots of tinsel adorning many houses, and advent calendars have begun to be opened, or in some cases, demolished guiltily on December 1st. (We've all done it, don't lie.) The Americans across the water have celebrated thanksgiving, cards are being sent and received and panic-buying for the festive season is at an all-time high. Yes, I suppose the Christmas countdown really has begun. Excitement fills the air as many children cross off the days until Santa arrives, and adults make plans of festive cheer and buy shed loads of Christmassy food and crates of alcohol to see in the new year. 

All of this hustle and bustle, and the imminence of snow, has got me thinking about the ending of one year, and the anticipation of another. As of midnight on January 1st, we will be in 2014. Kind of has a good ring to it, doesn't it? I'm sort of looking forward to it. Maybe because (it's no secret) I love the run up to new year, the organisation, the making plans, the fresh start, clean slate, all that kind of sentimental bullshit bandied about all over greetings cards, fridge magnets and social networks. It's kind of true though. There's something quite liberating about drinking your way into a new year, a new beginning, full of possibilities and new opportunities. Everyone's singing and swaying to Auld Lang Syne with alcoholic beverages in their hands, messily entering a new year. It's just wonderful.

I'm never overly strict with New Years resolutions, but this year, I'm going to make a concerted effort to stick to it. So you're thinking, with bated breath, 'what now?' Well, I'm not planning on anything too unrealistic or unachievable, just this: my New Years resolution is to be a nicer person. Yes, I'm going to make the effort to be a kinder, more helpful, thoughtful individual in 2014. I'm going to try and be selfless where I can, and show the lovely people in my life how much I value and appreciate their presence. Nice and profound ey? Well, who can blame me? It's something a lot of people should work on. I've got one or two people in mind when I say that but I won't give them the satisfaction of naming them. 

So that's mine, what's yours? Or do you have more than one, or an entire list? I imagine that closer to the time, I'll end up compiling a '2014 To Do List' because I'm just the most neurotic person ever, but that's all I've got for now. Anyway, that'd be different. I'm intrigued what everyone else has in mind for a New Years resolution, so let me know. Tweet me: @eleanorward_ or send me a message/comment on here. I'm interested.

You're never too old for a new start.

Well I've done it. I've finally come reluctantly into the 21st Century, the modern age, the blogging phenomena. I'm actually (yes) blogging from my brand-spanking-new iPhone! It feels weird to be doing it, after all I've kind of come to associate blogging with my lovely little laptop. It's funny to think I'm now able to write on-the-go and post a thought immediately. It's kind of cute anyway in my eyes.

So, summer is drawing sadly to a close, and as every second ticks on, I realise that I'm one reluctant step closer to turning the horrendously big 2-0. However, there are upsides to this. As autumn approaches, so does the new uni semester, meaning that I get to see my three fave girls again, which I'm super excited about. (Hiya girls!) The workload, well, you can practically hear my brain sighing lazily as I even just mull over the idea. But then I guess the good things in life usually (we hope) outweigh the bad. Meaning this; when winter draws bitterly in, we'll appreciate the summer more when it arrives again next year as promised. When it rains, we know the heavy downpours are only temporary and its only a matter of time until it lets up. Sadness makes us realise how happy we usually are, loneliness makes us appreciate company and loss makes us grab love between our fists like an iron vice. 

So come at me winter. I'm ready, with my Hunter wellies and my parka, for anything you can throw at me. I'm ready to kiss goodbye to sunny nights and embrace cosiness and thick duvets for a few cold months. There's no reason for me to be unhappy any longer.

Kisses

x

(I had to add a cheeky little PLL reference in there, I mean OMG!)