A glorious Sunday afternoon. I woke up feeling very tired this morning but as the day wore on I felt better and better, and here I am at one thirty in the afternoon beaming at the softly swishing creature (the laptop). This week has been a truly great week. I finally got rid of my German presentation, which thankfully went quite well, and I managed to get myself into some kind of exam-oriented mood. My contributions towards my noble end of faring well in my exams have gradually evolved from contemplating the patterns on my bedspread to actually writing down a considerable amount of notes. Unfortunately most of these notes display a worrying tendency to copy attractive-looking chunks of sentences and phrases rather than summarize and "put in my own words" (those magic words that all aspire to), but I'm slowly improving, hopefully. Strangely enough Phonetics and Phonology (the subject with the impressive scientific terminology to impress people with) is proving the easiest to study, which is making me feel all smug and logical and scientific. On the other hand, Poetry is another story. Studying it must be the most effective ego deflator possible. Firstly, there are all the references which refer to things I've never heard/read about. Secondly, there is the infinity of meanings and metaphors that escape me and thirdly, there is the infinity of criticism I have never read. AND fourthly, there's my glaring inability to formulate a coherent, relevant sentence about the works concerned. Yet, despite all the wounds my pride and morale endure, it never fails to leave me awed, impressed and inspired. Guess it is actually true that art raises you from the mundane to the sublime. Anyways, enough of this because I fear that I'm starting to sound pompous.
My good mood keeps astounding me. Such high levels of optimism have been hard to trace in the past few years. Maybe it's because I'm growing older (oqqow) or maybe it's because I've realised I'm too young to sulk :-D. Or maybe life is truly lovely after all. Last night was great. But as usual it is followed by the feeling that it is illegal to work on a sunny Sunday afternoon, which will inevitably be followed by a feeling of nerdy guilt. Oh well, we will see.
Have a lovely Sunday,
Lizzy
xxxxx
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Dark Ages Revisited
Really nice day today. Oddly enough lately I've been repeating this phrase a lot. Guess that little piece of advice that my mum used to drill into my little head- count your blessings- was not such a useless cliche after all. I seem to have started rediscovering my enthusiasm for life, and I'm grateful for this. A few days ago I dug up three Radiohead cds I had bought as a young pimply (does this word even exist?) secondary school student. Now I know you must be thinking that I must be going mad if I rediscovered my enthusiasm through a band who has made a career out of telling us all what a miserable dreary world we live in, and maybe you're right, but, i beg thee, let me explain.
I like to call my secondary school years the Dark Ages. Like most people I was awkward, had no nice clothes, was infested with pimples and black heads and was basically a human grease factory, spent the best part of every day buried underneath an unspeakably hideous uniform, longed for boys who would not even be seen dead with me and had an unwavering conviction that the whole world was intent on ruining my life. In my case, things were just that little bit worse. I don't feel like going into the reasons for this, but a look at the photos of the time should give one a fairly clear idea. I rarely ever left the house except for school and mass and by the age of sixteen had applied make up and worn heels only about three times. Yes, I know. Sad. And while I acknowledge that I could have made more of an effort to at least try to fit in, well, I had my reasons, and I guess, for an immature fourteen-year-old, they were more than valid. At the point where one must be wondering what on earth I'm rambling about, I will finally get to the point. For three years after those Dark Ages, I was happy to forget they even happened. And this is where Radiohead come in. During the Dark Ages I was absolutely obsessed with them. I identified with their bleak dreary point of view, besides the fact that they sounded good. After I entered the Junior College, I vowed I'd never be the same girl again, and accordingly I simply let those cds I'd spent so many months saving up for, gather dust.
A few days ago, my friend's boyfriend asked me to send him some Radiohead songs, and on hearing the first notes of No Surprises, tears started welling up in my eyes. (Btw No Surprises is a song about suicide- I was that emo!)However, then I found the good sense to shake myself out of the self-pitying nostalgic state I tend to repeatedly fall into and realized that it is exactly the 'silent silence' (quoting shamelessly from the song) of my early teenage years that made me who I am now, and despite the countless defects, I am quite happy. I guess sometimes one has to look back in order to go forward, and those very moments that make us cringe with shame are the moments that will give us the strength to admit our weaknesses and try to do something about them.
Oh God it has taken me forever to write this blog! But I really really had to write it, even though it is patronising and has probably bored you to death AND I took forever to come to a rather obvious conclusion. Besides, I have no energy to proofread, so excuse any mistakes.
Take care
Till next time,
Lizzy
xxxxx
I like to call my secondary school years the Dark Ages. Like most people I was awkward, had no nice clothes, was infested with pimples and black heads and was basically a human grease factory, spent the best part of every day buried underneath an unspeakably hideous uniform, longed for boys who would not even be seen dead with me and had an unwavering conviction that the whole world was intent on ruining my life. In my case, things were just that little bit worse. I don't feel like going into the reasons for this, but a look at the photos of the time should give one a fairly clear idea. I rarely ever left the house except for school and mass and by the age of sixteen had applied make up and worn heels only about three times. Yes, I know. Sad. And while I acknowledge that I could have made more of an effort to at least try to fit in, well, I had my reasons, and I guess, for an immature fourteen-year-old, they were more than valid. At the point where one must be wondering what on earth I'm rambling about, I will finally get to the point. For three years after those Dark Ages, I was happy to forget they even happened. And this is where Radiohead come in. During the Dark Ages I was absolutely obsessed with them. I identified with their bleak dreary point of view, besides the fact that they sounded good. After I entered the Junior College, I vowed I'd never be the same girl again, and accordingly I simply let those cds I'd spent so many months saving up for, gather dust.
A few days ago, my friend's boyfriend asked me to send him some Radiohead songs, and on hearing the first notes of No Surprises, tears started welling up in my eyes. (Btw No Surprises is a song about suicide- I was that emo!)However, then I found the good sense to shake myself out of the self-pitying nostalgic state I tend to repeatedly fall into and realized that it is exactly the 'silent silence' (quoting shamelessly from the song) of my early teenage years that made me who I am now, and despite the countless defects, I am quite happy. I guess sometimes one has to look back in order to go forward, and those very moments that make us cringe with shame are the moments that will give us the strength to admit our weaknesses and try to do something about them.
Oh God it has taken me forever to write this blog! But I really really had to write it, even though it is patronising and has probably bored you to death AND I took forever to come to a rather obvious conclusion. Besides, I have no energy to proofread, so excuse any mistakes.
Take care
Till next time,
Lizzy
xxxxx
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Lovely day
Today was unmistakeably a lovely day. There's no other way to describe it, despite the fact that I spent it locked up at home trying in vain to finish my German presentation. The presentation is about Social Problems in Germany, and I have basically managed to touch upon all the ills that trouble the place, all except for drug addiction! I just cannot find a decent website which gives me decent information about drug dependence in Germany in German. Actually I can't even find one in English! Don't all the website-makers (for want of a better word) in the world know that in Germany there is a considerable group of hardcore junkies who deserve to be acknowledged in colourful bar graphs and pie charts and line graphs and the like? The only websites I found were insufferable scientific texts choc-a-bloc with names of chemicals, hormones, cells and the like which, while highly impressive, put me in a state of boredom which verged on some sort of trance. Anyways, after polishing the rest of the presentation and postponing the drug addiction part yet again, I realised that it was high time I did something useful, so I went downstairs and resumed reading this really interesting book I got from the library about Coleridge. Usually books about literature make very slow and heavy reading but this little old book has proved to be quite stimulating and useful (hopefully!). Moreover it is thin, which at this rather stressful time of year is of great importance.
After two hours of reading and underlining and hoping I understood, I realised it was already seven o'clock and hence I called it a day, ate and sat myself here to type the blog I'd been intending to type for quite a few days. Typically I have gone completely out of point and am rambling rather aimlessly. But then again, I'm not. These last few days have been just lovely, for no particular reason, except that I've been feeling better than I had for a long time! Even an ordinary, rather unproductive day like today could not dampen my spirits. And this, for a professional moaner like me, is no mean feat. The thing is, I have decided to stop putting myself down about being so undecided and lost and start putting all my energy into the things that I love, hoping something will come out of them.
On an even more incredibly positive note, I must say I actually enjoyed the Group Skills seminar!!! The group I was in was great and some of the activities were good fun. There was the inevitable dose of bullshitting (excuse my language) and overanalysis of the simplest things and actions in a vain attempt to go deeper than the surface. However, at the end of the day we did go a bit deeper, in that we got to know each other just that little bit better, and I suppose at the end of the day that's the whole point of such seminars.
Anyways, guess that's much more than enough for today. (The problem of me boring myself keeps recurring! Dammit!) And, no, I won't be giving the details of last Saturday night! There's only so much laughing that I can allow Disirenn (;-p) and Claire to have at my expense hehe! Jokes aside, thanks for being there when I needed you!
Till next time
Take care and enjoy the sunshine
Lizzy
xxxxxxx
After two hours of reading and underlining and hoping I understood, I realised it was already seven o'clock and hence I called it a day, ate and sat myself here to type the blog I'd been intending to type for quite a few days. Typically I have gone completely out of point and am rambling rather aimlessly. But then again, I'm not. These last few days have been just lovely, for no particular reason, except that I've been feeling better than I had for a long time! Even an ordinary, rather unproductive day like today could not dampen my spirits. And this, for a professional moaner like me, is no mean feat. The thing is, I have decided to stop putting myself down about being so undecided and lost and start putting all my energy into the things that I love, hoping something will come out of them.
On an even more incredibly positive note, I must say I actually enjoyed the Group Skills seminar!!! The group I was in was great and some of the activities were good fun. There was the inevitable dose of bullshitting (excuse my language) and overanalysis of the simplest things and actions in a vain attempt to go deeper than the surface. However, at the end of the day we did go a bit deeper, in that we got to know each other just that little bit better, and I suppose at the end of the day that's the whole point of such seminars.
Anyways, guess that's much more than enough for today. (The problem of me boring myself keeps recurring! Dammit!) And, no, I won't be giving the details of last Saturday night! There's only so much laughing that I can allow Disirenn (;-p) and Claire to have at my expense hehe! Jokes aside, thanks for being there when I needed you!
Till next time
Take care and enjoy the sunshine
Lizzy
xxxxxxx
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Cool? No, thank you.
I've just been watching this TV show called virusproject and I could not have slept peacefully without expressing my disgust at its incredible presumptuousness. I guess this show purports itself to be some kind of underground subversive alternative to the mainstream stuff we usually get on Maltese tv. Well, while I appreciate the effort these guys made to try to come up with something different, what they came up with is something we have seen ad nauseaum and, to be honest, got quite tired of, on stations like mtv and mtv2. What's wrong with that, one would ask? Isn't it laudable that these people are trying to be more in tune with what's going on on foreign youth-oriented television? Perfectly so. But what is so disgusting is the self-satisfaction that oozes out of these people's every pore, when they're not even capable of being original. They break their backs trying to be cool and the result is that what they do seems forced and lacks substance.
Gianni, the "cool" presenter, speaks like he has something stuck up his derriere and I'm starting to agree with my mum in thinking that he's an incompetent big-headed jerk with not much more than fluff in his head. His guests aren't any better. They sit on the sofa, acting all laid-back and, yes, you guessed it, cool. They punctuate their singing with sounds such as "woohoo" and "yeah" to ensure that we are fully aware of their overflowing confidence and coolness. I simply couldn't bear this nightmare for one more minute. To add insult to injury Gianni proceeded to display his belching talents. Wtf? This programme is just another way to celebrate mediocrity by disguising it as edgy originality. And why the forced coolness? I was well beyond trying to be cool at least as early as my 16th birthday. I had to lock myself up in my room and listen to the entirety of Keane's Hopes and Fears, so that maybe I'd listen to something untinged by such endless pretensions and coolness and shake off this feeling of contempt. And yes, maybe Keane are sometimes a bit too naive and squeaky clean, but at least they're honest. I consciously refrained from using the phrase "be themselves" because such a phrase is often used to describe supposedly edgy shows such as virusproject. The thing is, there's a really fine line between true and genuine originality and edginess and the appearance of it. Here in Malta we must learn to hesitate before labelling anything which seems slightly different as a groundbreaking novelty.
As you might have noticed, I'm not in the best of moods. Tomorrow I wake up bright and early for the Group Skills seminar in Bahar ic-Caghaq, which for a Fgura resident qualifies as Far Far Away. P.S. a final note of thanks to my sister, who spurred me on to write this blog through her witty comments which always hit the nail right on the head.
Take care everybody,
Lizzy
xxxxx
Gianni, the "cool" presenter, speaks like he has something stuck up his derriere and I'm starting to agree with my mum in thinking that he's an incompetent big-headed jerk with not much more than fluff in his head. His guests aren't any better. They sit on the sofa, acting all laid-back and, yes, you guessed it, cool. They punctuate their singing with sounds such as "woohoo" and "yeah" to ensure that we are fully aware of their overflowing confidence and coolness. I simply couldn't bear this nightmare for one more minute. To add insult to injury Gianni proceeded to display his belching talents. Wtf? This programme is just another way to celebrate mediocrity by disguising it as edgy originality. And why the forced coolness? I was well beyond trying to be cool at least as early as my 16th birthday. I had to lock myself up in my room and listen to the entirety of Keane's Hopes and Fears, so that maybe I'd listen to something untinged by such endless pretensions and coolness and shake off this feeling of contempt. And yes, maybe Keane are sometimes a bit too naive and squeaky clean, but at least they're honest. I consciously refrained from using the phrase "be themselves" because such a phrase is often used to describe supposedly edgy shows such as virusproject. The thing is, there's a really fine line between true and genuine originality and edginess and the appearance of it. Here in Malta we must learn to hesitate before labelling anything which seems slightly different as a groundbreaking novelty.
As you might have noticed, I'm not in the best of moods. Tomorrow I wake up bright and early for the Group Skills seminar in Bahar ic-Caghaq, which for a Fgura resident qualifies as Far Far Away. P.S. a final note of thanks to my sister, who spurred me on to write this blog through her witty comments which always hit the nail right on the head.
Take care everybody,
Lizzy
xxxxx
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Easter!!!
Blogging has got me hooked.I just love writing and knowing that someone might read it, even if just a handful of close friends. I used to keep diaries and still do, but I always gave up on writing much in them. I just never had the patience and my own careless, inconsistent handwriting oddly enough was the thing that most got on my nerves. I seemed to be unable to keep the same handwriting for more than three lines, and that bugged me, only God knows why. Maybe it's the romantic, babyish, film-like notion of diaries with constant, flowing, slanting handwriting that I have. Could be. I can be rather superficial, as you might have noticed. (P.S.Feel free to butt in telling me how I astound you with my depth and that such superficial reasons only symbolize some deeper meaning ;p)Anyways, bottom line is I like to blog, and whether you like it or not, I'll be pouring my infinite wisdom on whichever poor soul bothers to have a look.
Today is Easter Sunday(!!!) and thankfully it was a rather idyllic day, the likes of which I hadn't had in quite a while. For the first time in ages, I did no academically related activity without feeling guilty. The weather was glorious and, in the absence of sufficient motivation to leave the house, I enjoyed it by drenching myself in the glorious (I love this word) sunshine in the balcony. Yesterday was also a great day- I almost finished my German presentation- progress didn't remain so snail-like after all- and had a wicked night out with claire. Yes, I must admit these are good days after all, and even though that feeling of emptiness still creeps up on me quite often and my irrepressible urge for dreaming of better times and better places is still, well, irrepressible, I'm slowly learning that life is not so bad after all. And that such feelings can actually be positive, in that one continuously strives for something better.
Lately I've also been thinking about going back to writing after a three year absence from the global literary stage hehehe. Jokes aside, a friend has been encouraging me to give writing a try again, after having written nothing (apart from literary criticism essays for school, of course, I'm an exemplary student ;))for three whole years. The thing is, when I was younger I had to write narratives and discursive essays for school. I enjoyed this and always put in that extra effort, something which was noticed by a few people who encouraged me to try to build on what they saw as my 'talent'. However, as I grew older, I realized that writing something remotely decent was much harder than I could've imagined and this dampened my enthusiasm and eventually destroyed it. Yet, lately I've noticed that writing is the only thing that seems to raise my morale and put me in a good mood (apart from listening to Keane, that is, haha). So maybe, just maybe, I should give it a try again. Don't get me wrong, I'm not aiming for worldwide critical acclaim (though it would be more than welcome) but maybe one day I'll get to write some articles and short stories etc etc... Blogging has been a step in that direction, and I blog everyday though I don't post everything (Some entries are just flat). But I'm a firm believer that the more you write, the better you'll do it in the end, so I'll keep bothering you poor things.
That was one long blog, and I honestly doubt anyone actually bothered to read it till the end. Yet I just had to explain the situation, since these thoughts are foremost in my head at the moment.
Hope you had a lovely Easter
Enjoy the figolli!!!!
Take care
xxxxxxx
Today is Easter Sunday(!!!) and thankfully it was a rather idyllic day, the likes of which I hadn't had in quite a while. For the first time in ages, I did no academically related activity without feeling guilty. The weather was glorious and, in the absence of sufficient motivation to leave the house, I enjoyed it by drenching myself in the glorious (I love this word) sunshine in the balcony. Yesterday was also a great day- I almost finished my German presentation- progress didn't remain so snail-like after all- and had a wicked night out with claire. Yes, I must admit these are good days after all, and even though that feeling of emptiness still creeps up on me quite often and my irrepressible urge for dreaming of better times and better places is still, well, irrepressible, I'm slowly learning that life is not so bad after all. And that such feelings can actually be positive, in that one continuously strives for something better.
Lately I've also been thinking about going back to writing after a three year absence from the global literary stage hehehe. Jokes aside, a friend has been encouraging me to give writing a try again, after having written nothing (apart from literary criticism essays for school, of course, I'm an exemplary student ;))for three whole years. The thing is, when I was younger I had to write narratives and discursive essays for school. I enjoyed this and always put in that extra effort, something which was noticed by a few people who encouraged me to try to build on what they saw as my 'talent'. However, as I grew older, I realized that writing something remotely decent was much harder than I could've imagined and this dampened my enthusiasm and eventually destroyed it. Yet, lately I've noticed that writing is the only thing that seems to raise my morale and put me in a good mood (apart from listening to Keane, that is, haha). So maybe, just maybe, I should give it a try again. Don't get me wrong, I'm not aiming for worldwide critical acclaim (though it would be more than welcome) but maybe one day I'll get to write some articles and short stories etc etc... Blogging has been a step in that direction, and I blog everyday though I don't post everything (Some entries are just flat). But I'm a firm believer that the more you write, the better you'll do it in the end, so I'll keep bothering you poor things.
That was one long blog, and I honestly doubt anyone actually bothered to read it till the end. Yet I just had to explain the situation, since these thoughts are foremost in my head at the moment.
Hope you had a lovely Easter
Enjoy the figolli!!!!
Take care
xxxxxxx
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Clueless!
I've already written another blog and discarded it, cos it was just complete rubbish. Okay, it wasn't complete rubbish, (Complete rubbish can't come from such an awesome person like me, now can it?;p) but anyway it was just completely chaotic and it was confusing even for me.
Anyways, but wherefore all this confusion, I hear you ask in a mighty harmonious concerned chorus? Well, the usual problem. I feel empty. Hollow. I honestly don't have a clue where I'm headed. I don't even have a clue about where I wish I were headed. I'm that clueless. I suppose I'm a hopeless romantic and a dreamer gone wrong. Rather than working towards my dreams, I work towards trying to figure out what they are. And what's more? Every goal I figure out seems too ridiculously absurd to work towards. Dear me, I'm even a shame to all real hardcore dreamers! Oh God, I really need to get a life!
Back to reality. My current practical feasible goal is doing well in my exams, which might and might not happen. I don't have a clue (there I go again- I just love the word 'clue') since I've never yet sat for English Literature exams at the university, and therefore it's gonna be a leap into the darkness. According to my sister I should not worry, but I don't know about what I should worry according to her. Let's just hope I do well in them, since literature is by far the most stimulating part of my flawed course. At the moment prospects aren't so brilliant. The only thing I'm capable of doing towards this noble end of doing well in my exams is worry and stare at the flowery patterns on my bedsheets, in between reading some poetry and trying hard to decipher my dear sister's scribblings all over the pages.
Anyway, I' ve been writing this blog for so long that I'm now totally fed up and don't even know whether I actually got down to writing down what I initially intended to. I'll give you thrilling updates about my snail-like progress on my inhumanly long German presentation next time. And if you haven't registered it by now, I'm pretty darn disillusioned at the moment, so please excuse me if I'm being a complete pain. Take care!
Till next time,
Lizzy
xxxxxx
Anyways, but wherefore all this confusion, I hear you ask in a mighty harmonious concerned chorus? Well, the usual problem. I feel empty. Hollow. I honestly don't have a clue where I'm headed. I don't even have a clue about where I wish I were headed. I'm that clueless. I suppose I'm a hopeless romantic and a dreamer gone wrong. Rather than working towards my dreams, I work towards trying to figure out what they are. And what's more? Every goal I figure out seems too ridiculously absurd to work towards. Dear me, I'm even a shame to all real hardcore dreamers! Oh God, I really need to get a life!
Back to reality. My current practical feasible goal is doing well in my exams, which might and might not happen. I don't have a clue (there I go again- I just love the word 'clue') since I've never yet sat for English Literature exams at the university, and therefore it's gonna be a leap into the darkness. According to my sister I should not worry, but I don't know about what I should worry according to her. Let's just hope I do well in them, since literature is by far the most stimulating part of my flawed course. At the moment prospects aren't so brilliant. The only thing I'm capable of doing towards this noble end of doing well in my exams is worry and stare at the flowery patterns on my bedsheets, in between reading some poetry and trying hard to decipher my dear sister's scribblings all over the pages.
Anyway, I' ve been writing this blog for so long that I'm now totally fed up and don't even know whether I actually got down to writing down what I initially intended to. I'll give you thrilling updates about my snail-like progress on my inhumanly long German presentation next time. And if you haven't registered it by now, I'm pretty darn disillusioned at the moment, so please excuse me if I'm being a complete pain. Take care!
Till next time,
Lizzy
xxxxxx
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Mounds of ordinary stuff
Today was a lovely day. The sky seemed to be beaming down on me as I stood in the balcony listening to some lovely songs (yes, I admit it, Keane again, I just can't help being in love with everything about them) and getting my daily supply of Vitamin D. I just couldn't bear myself lazing about for one more second and simply had to write something down - even if just a stupid little blog. These days are odd- bittersweet one could say. I come in contact with all these things that inspire me and fill me with a sense of infinite possibilities- poetry, music, books and the like (I've finally got down to doing some of the 'recommended reading' found in the English course catalogue). But then once the book is closed or the stereo switched off, that deafening silence comes back again and it seems that life couldn't possibly be more uninspiring. There seem to be so many beautiful things out there, yet I seem to be buried under mounds of ordinary stuff. It's like life never seems to live up to its promise. On paper I should be having the time of my life but in reality it's just all potential and no actuality. To make matters slightly worse, all my friends seem to be moving on with their lives, working towards their goals, while I'm stuck in a rut, idealizing, knowing that I want something but not knowing what it is and how to get it. Ah, life is indeed complicated! And then I see people who're going through the kind of suffering I can't even fathom and they seem to have that sparkle in the eye and that fulfilment I so desperately yearn for. And I am dumbfounded and bewildered. Maybe someday I'll get it.
Until next time
Take care and Happy holidays
Elizabeth
xxxxxx
Until next time
Take care and Happy holidays
Elizabeth
xxxxxx
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