Catching my breath

Monday has come round, met with a combination of relief and despair. After the last few days, it feels like it's bound to disappoint. Maybe I'm being cynical, but more so, realistic. 

Thursday was our usual evening, spent at the pub quiz, where we usually avert our gaze from those teams who wrongly assume that because we are the youngest competitors, we must cheat our way into the league. To our shock this week, after going for what must be months, we won. Most of the teams clapped and cheered for us, Agatha Quiztee, the winners at last, if only for one week. Some stared resentfully in our direction as we celebrated with raised glasses and big grins. 

Friday began, and it was hell. Waiting frantically for results of my final degree grade was torture. Results were supposed to be released 12pm, on the dot. Little did we know, that meant everyone. Every single individual graduating from Northumbria university in 2015 got their final degree classification posted online on the same day. Later, obviously, this proved that the planning had failed dramatically, as five and a half hours later, I was one of the first to receive my classification, with others left to wait for an email instead that would arrive by 7pm. However, I couldn't complain. Three years of intensely hard work, tears, anger, stress, headaches and laughter, I got a 2.1 classification for English Literature and Creative Writing. All I could've hoped for. I was ecstatic. 

And what a way to end a weekend, than a Saturday spent in York, shopping, eating and drinking cocktails with my boyfriend. I feel like I'm just taking it all in now. With just over two weeks until I graduate, and no real career path in sight. I'm trying to be optimistic, trying to enjoy the lead up, trying to catch my breath and take it all in. 

Final year.

It's here. The looming summer is over with. So, with sour, miserable faces and wool-clad limbs, we brace the onset of northern autumn and of our final year as degree students. 

It's supposed to be great? Who said that.  Today is my second *technical* day as a third year. (I'm only actually in three days a week, but shh.) Reading lists have been doled out, schedules explained and deadlines highlighted in luminous colours in our diaries and planners. This year matters. This year determines your future. These are the kind of supposedly motivational statements that will be thrown at us from lecturers for the next 20 weeks or so. So, yes I'm majorly stressing out. 

Also, this week, after a really hasty decision, I'm having an impromptu birthday party on Friday to celebrate my turning 21, albeit five days premature. We have food to make, a room to decorate, hair and make up to be done, outfits to be planned, taxis to book, a cake to collect, balloons to blow up, and the rest of the room to pay for. Oh, and fit uni in, and all the work that comes with it, round the troops up and achieve all of this and be at the venue before 7pm on Friday night for the celebrations to start. Excitement is brewing but stress is too. My skin is breaking out, the slight furrow between my eyebrows is becoming more evident by the hour, and I'm feeling drained. All I want is someone to greet me off the bus I'm currently falling asleep on, carry my heavy bags filled with uni books, fetch me a good cup of coffee and run me a lovely hot bath. 

Tomorrow, I have a day off. Thank god for small mercies. 

July daze.

So, it's here. Today. The seventh month of 2014. That sounds strange. Gosh. (I never, ever say that, but it seems fitting today.) I'm speechless. Sitting on my bed, in sweats, (yeah, I do that now) and no make up and freshly painted nails of which I've been trying to establish the real colour for about a week now (we've settled on 'heather.') I have my iPod attempting to play a soundtrack that seems fitting for July, but I keep my forefinger stubbornly paused on the 'Shuffle' button. I'm restless today.

I feel like I haven't had enough sleep. I feel dissatisfied with July already in one respect, and in another, I'm totally, utterly and completely happy with everything. No sun = poor excuse for summer, well, in my eyes anyway. I have Coldplay strumming right now. Maybe it fits, there are clouds hanging heavily in the sky outside my window, after all. I feel like I should write something profound and substantial. Pinch-Punch and all that jazz. Here goes. Here's to trying.

#1: Today, I read Gracie's latest and probably, the most important blog post. A fabulous girl I write about frequently, and yet, I've never so much as clapped eyes on her in person. (This year, we'll share a coffee, in person. At some point, I've vowed.) I let my coffee go cold as my eyes adjusted to what was appearing rapidly on my iPhone screen. My mouth fell open. My eyelids gathered salty tears. My heart seemed to stop a moment. Not only is this a very beautiful piece of writing from a lovely girl with a huge personality, but I can only even try to comprehend how hard it must have been to write. For reasons, that if you give it a read, you'll know. Hell, of course you'll read it. She's wonderful. Gracie is someone I feel like I've known for years, and in reality, it is merely due to reading her blog intently in a pseudo-stalker-like fashion (oh, and a few avidly typed tweets: Come say hello!@eleanorward_) Anyway, she's been through an awful lot lately, and deserves acknowledgement, and a very strong Jack and Coke. That's my first 'July' thing. I'm sending her lots of love, because I have a lot to thank her for, and she's one of my favourite people.

#2: July sparks something for me I've never been able to say before. Exciting! As of a few days time, me and my boyfriend will have been together for six months. Half a year. To some, that's probably not a big deal. To me, well, it really is. I hope he won't mind me saying all this, well actually, I know he won't. It's pretty surreal to think it's been almost six whole months. It's a blur. A happy blur at that. We've known each other a lot longer than that though. It's a funny story. Well, maybe it is, but that's for my own memory. We were friends for a long time, and have known each other for around 15 months now. I won't throw all the soppy clichés your way, except maybe this one: not only is he my other half, but he's also my best friend. That's all I'm saying. He's incredibly important to me, and how anyone copes with me for a week, let alone six months is beyond my comprehension, but I'll not complain! Stop grinning Lukas, this isn't for your ego.

#3: July is the limbo for me, between holidays (Ibiza and Menorca) and just some of the space that makes up the journey between Year Two and Final Year in degree lingo. This year, my final desperate shot to prove to myself, and everyone around me that my degree has been anything but a waste of time and money. I need to prove myself. I need to "write something substantial." I need to do something that scares me but maybe will open up an array of opportunities for me, and ultimately, I need to decide on what I'd maybe like to do in that scary thing called Future.

July is full of indefinite possibilities, opportunities and events. It's getting warmer. It's getting closer to Decision Time with regards to my degree. It's closer to my 21st Birthday, which I'm really excited about, but also kind of apprehensive. 21 means responsibility; and not just being able to cross the road on your own, or standing on your own two feet. July features my mam's birthday, the anniversary of my Grandad's death, and the cram of planning and organising for a family holiday that has filled all eight of us with a sense of dread and excitement at the same time. Also, here's a random fact: July was named after Julius Caesar, as it was his birth month. I'm positive, I'm excited, and I'm ready to go. Metaphorically speaking, that is. In reality, I'm lazily perched on my bed, still, checking my phone compulsively and eagerly awaiting my latest purchases from my beloved ASOS. Russell is making his way to my house, to deliver what I hope will be the most beautiful handbag I've feasted my eyes on. Only time will tell.

"If anyone's worth letting your coffee go cold for, it's definitely you."