It has been a week since I last blogged because, believe it or not, I have been too busy! Yes! busy! in this weather! And I am not busy with countless types of ways to amuse myself. I am busy with seminars and assignments as well as work, which starts on Monday. Right now I am supposed to be working on my Interpersonal Skills assignment(which is thankfully turning out better than I thought), yet I simply cannot do anymore after working on the process notes and starting the actual final essay today. Sigh. As regards work, I really do not feel like facing complete strangers every single day for the next seven to eight weeks. It wears me out, the little wimp that I am.
As you can see, today's title is yet another tour de force of subtlety. Yesterday I went to the Bryan Adams concert unexpectedly with Chris. It was the first proper concert of my entire life but that was as far as my enthusiasm went. The last time I had listened to Bryan Adams songs with that sparkle of approval in my eye goes back to when I was eleven or twelve, probably just before I became a Miserable Outcast and a dedicated Radiohead fan. (ref. Dark Ages post). Yet once the concert started I could see what made/makes Bryan Adams such a star. His songs make you feel really good and at the end of the day there is nothing like a positive attitude and a catchy melody to give you that warm glow. I found myself digging up his songs from the recesses of my childhood memories and the lyrics just started flowing effortlessly (and rather out of tune) out of my mouth. I was singing along at the top of my lungs as well as screaming like my life depended on it. Morale of the story- Large-scale concerts are seriously good fun and I should start dragging myself to them whenever they happen. Morale number two- I cannot sing!
Despite the great night (hence the title) I woke up this morning with a dull worry buzzing at the back of my head. It is a rather private matter, so I will refrain from going into it. However it is one of those things I keep trying to solve but I keep tumbling wearily into failure. So I listened to this sweet sweet song I found. And that was me trying to post a link. Hope it works. Sweet songs always seem to attach a certain allure to having problems and they always make you think that there is someone who will make it all okay in the end. That's why they're so indispensable.
I think I have moaned quite enough for today and I shall leave you to enjoy your summer in peace. Till next time, I'll wish you countless airconditioned rooms and delicious ice-creams!
Take care
Lizzy
xxxx
Friday, June 29, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Sweet summer days
Summer (the official natural season not the holidays) started today and it started very well indeed. Last night I met up with two of my oldest friends- Desiree and Andrea- at Birzebbugia. We just walked by the sea, ate chocolate ice-cream, gossiped and giggled and talked, and then finally we went to swing on the swings (I'm sure that there must be some other verb but anyways), which is the perfect thing to do after eating chocolate ice-cream, I'm quite sure lol. Anyways, lovely evening on the whole :). Also a big thanks to Deborah for the lovely gift she gave me earlier on:-D.
This morning I went to the sea with Desiree. I usually always go late in the afternoon at about five or six, either because of work or else because I'm too lazy. So it was nice to have a proper (half) day at the sea. First we went to swim at a really quiet place at Zonqor (in Marsascala). The water was really clear and very cool and there was no one but us so it was pretty much idyllic. At about eleven fifteen, an irrepressible urge for a Maltese ftira with fresh oil oozing out of it started haunting our poor stomachs ;so we had the brilliant idea of walking to San Tumas(another bay in Marsascala). Ever since the legendary hike (ref. earlier posts), I have become courageous in the face of such 'titanic' challenges, so the stroll in the scorching sun would have been pretty perfect had it not been for the green-eyed monster, which reared its head as soon as we started walking by those countless humungous villas which practically touch the sea! Why can't we ever learn to be happy for other people? Finally we arrived at San Tumas, bought our ftira and jumped back into the sea to cool down. We actually swam in the very tiny sandy part of the bay which usually looks like a murky little pond choked with way too much sand and seaweeds than it can handle. In fact, I had never swum there since I was a sand-castle-crazed child. But today the water was simply beautiful- crystal clear and cool and containing not too many homo sapiens- Ah the joys of early summer! After that I went home, showered, ate and collapsed on the bed and tonight just took it really easy.
It was a lovely day- a good antidote for the quiet little lonesome sad mood I had been cultivating of late. I'm not miserable, mind you, but I have been worrying about life and how I have to do something meaningful and all that. I've also been reading my sister's diary again.(I think she doesn't mind). It's the only way we communicate sometimes, and I'm perfectly aware of how similar we are, and of how she seems to anticipate my thoughts and dilemmas- she is older after all (to her dismay). We both have dreamt and still dream of becoming artists/writers of some sort and it's touching to read about that sense of failure and helplessness one feels most of the time. In any case, at least she's tried. All I've been doing is writing utter crap all of these years, or to be honest writing nothing most of the time. I wish I could write. Groan. Desiree and Andrea lectured me about having a positive attitude and about quitting being such a fearful wimp, yet I still think that most probably writing was not a feasible dream. Fullstop.
And Btw, I've listened to Early Winter by Gwen Stefani, which was actually written by Keane's pianist Tim. Oh dear me, I have such a crush on that guy! I haven't had such a crush on someone so unattainable since Batman! But Tim's so perfect he makes me want to weep. Sigh. Dream on hehe. Oh dear this blog has exceeded acceptable readable lengths. Must stop rambling and bid you farewell!
Until next time, enjoy zi sunshine!!! Take care!!!
Lizzy
xxxxx
This morning I went to the sea with Desiree. I usually always go late in the afternoon at about five or six, either because of work or else because I'm too lazy. So it was nice to have a proper (half) day at the sea. First we went to swim at a really quiet place at Zonqor (in Marsascala). The water was really clear and very cool and there was no one but us so it was pretty much idyllic. At about eleven fifteen, an irrepressible urge for a Maltese ftira with fresh oil oozing out of it started haunting our poor stomachs ;so we had the brilliant idea of walking to San Tumas(another bay in Marsascala). Ever since the legendary hike (ref. earlier posts), I have become courageous in the face of such 'titanic' challenges, so the stroll in the scorching sun would have been pretty perfect had it not been for the green-eyed monster, which reared its head as soon as we started walking by those countless humungous villas which practically touch the sea! Why can't we ever learn to be happy for other people? Finally we arrived at San Tumas, bought our ftira and jumped back into the sea to cool down. We actually swam in the very tiny sandy part of the bay which usually looks like a murky little pond choked with way too much sand and seaweeds than it can handle. In fact, I had never swum there since I was a sand-castle-crazed child. But today the water was simply beautiful- crystal clear and cool and containing not too many homo sapiens- Ah the joys of early summer! After that I went home, showered, ate and collapsed on the bed and tonight just took it really easy.
It was a lovely day- a good antidote for the quiet little lonesome sad mood I had been cultivating of late. I'm not miserable, mind you, but I have been worrying about life and how I have to do something meaningful and all that. I've also been reading my sister's diary again.(I think she doesn't mind). It's the only way we communicate sometimes, and I'm perfectly aware of how similar we are, and of how she seems to anticipate my thoughts and dilemmas- she is older after all (to her dismay). We both have dreamt and still dream of becoming artists/writers of some sort and it's touching to read about that sense of failure and helplessness one feels most of the time. In any case, at least she's tried. All I've been doing is writing utter crap all of these years, or to be honest writing nothing most of the time. I wish I could write. Groan. Desiree and Andrea lectured me about having a positive attitude and about quitting being such a fearful wimp, yet I still think that most probably writing was not a feasible dream. Fullstop.
And Btw, I've listened to Early Winter by Gwen Stefani, which was actually written by Keane's pianist Tim. Oh dear me, I have such a crush on that guy! I haven't had such a crush on someone so unattainable since Batman! But Tim's so perfect he makes me want to weep. Sigh. Dream on hehe. Oh dear this blog has exceeded acceptable readable lengths. Must stop rambling and bid you farewell!
Until next time, enjoy zi sunshine!!! Take care!!!
Lizzy
xxxxx
Monday, June 18, 2007
Aimlessness
This post has a pretty straightforward title. I am not in the mood to look for pretty litle metaphors. Yesterday night I came to the realization that I do not have a life. I have all the parts, but not the whole. I have my health, my family, my friends, am doing well at university, have a good summer job, have books to read, CDs to listen to, even my little abode on the worldwide web (this blog). Yet, somehow it does not seem to gel. My days are no longer empty and I'm never stuck at home unless it's my decision. However a lot of the time I find myself wishing I could actually just close myself in my own little bubble. There always seems to be something that has yet to be sorted out, if you know what I mean. (Which would be quite an achievement since I don't exactly know what I mean either.) I still feel a bit hollow most of the time. I'd mentioned it in an earlier post but the whole mad rush of exam-time and the subsequent elation at the end of the school year made me forget about it. But now the feeling is creeping back in. Do not get me wrong, I'm not spending my days moping around miserably. I'm enjoying summer and very cheerful most of the time yet I do not feel fulfilled. It's always the same problem in the end. Time and youth are rushing past yet that dull worry of not making the most of it always keeps buzzing at the back of my head.
The thing with me is that I do everything by numbers. Especially when it comes to writing. I had written a whole post about going back to it. Well I have to admit it, I have not managed yet. Yes, I have been pressed for time. However, I think the problem is that I think that just because I read the 'right' poems and the 'right' novels and the 'right' authors and listen attentively to all the lectures and do well in the exams (thank God :)), I'm going to be creative. It sounds so absurd- I am simply unable to just do something , without thinking there is a right way and a wrong way to do it. I feel I have to learn the right way before I actually start. The thing is, not everything can be done that way and maybe I have to finally admit that I do not possess the creative spark. I feel like I have so much in my mind and then when it comes to writing anything beyond this blog, I cannot even blurt out one decent sentence. It's a bit like being really sad and yet unable to shed one single tear. Suffocating. And I am not saying it to fish for heartwarming compliments. It's no big deal after all. Life is good at the moment. This last week was a shiny sunny happy one, I went out a lot and I got some good results to celebrate, for which I'm very grateful :-D. And, who knows?, maybe I'll find out I'm good at something else, like drilling irregular verbs into the minds of stoned long-legged Russians and loud-mouthed tanned Italians. The joy!
Off to the beach now. Till next time, take care and happy holidays
Lizzy
xxxx
The thing with me is that I do everything by numbers. Especially when it comes to writing. I had written a whole post about going back to it. Well I have to admit it, I have not managed yet. Yes, I have been pressed for time. However, I think the problem is that I think that just because I read the 'right' poems and the 'right' novels and the 'right' authors and listen attentively to all the lectures and do well in the exams (thank God :)), I'm going to be creative. It sounds so absurd- I am simply unable to just do something , without thinking there is a right way and a wrong way to do it. I feel I have to learn the right way before I actually start. The thing is, not everything can be done that way and maybe I have to finally admit that I do not possess the creative spark. I feel like I have so much in my mind and then when it comes to writing anything beyond this blog, I cannot even blurt out one decent sentence. It's a bit like being really sad and yet unable to shed one single tear. Suffocating. And I am not saying it to fish for heartwarming compliments. It's no big deal after all. Life is good at the moment. This last week was a shiny sunny happy one, I went out a lot and I got some good results to celebrate, for which I'm very grateful :-D. And, who knows?, maybe I'll find out I'm good at something else, like drilling irregular verbs into the minds of stoned long-legged Russians and loud-mouthed tanned Italians. The joy!
Off to the beach now. Till next time, take care and happy holidays
Lizzy
xxxx
Monday, June 11, 2007
Free as a bird...
Yes! My last exam took place last Saturday morning and now I face the dazzling prospect of almost four months of freedom and rest. Thankfully I ended the exams on a positive note. Detective Story was not too hard and we were spoilt for choice as regards essay questions so I guess I should be okay. After that it was off to Valletta to drench ourselves in the glorious sunshine and float around the airconditioned shops, buying girly things such as lip glosses, lip balms, moisturisers, stuff whose existence we had almost forgotten during the exams. Ah,and I almost forgot, we had the obligatory post-exams reward of junk food- each of us ordered a McSomething at McDonald's. Saturday night was nice. Clare, Desiree, Andrea and I went to Paparazzi to eat some pizza and Banoffi (Is it really spelt like this?) pie. I also finally wore my new summer dress (I'm not sure it's the correct sartorial term) and my new flat gold shoes! It felt lovely being so girly all over again :-)! The clubs were quite lame though. Havana was okay, yet by the time we got there we were feeling like patata maxx (without having touched a drop of alcohol) and were ready to go back home.
Sunday was the day when the extent of my sweet sweet freedom hit me. The calm, the serenity, the peace with which I can plan my day. The way I can just do everything calmly and slowly, not having to worry that I have to find exactly what I feel like doing and try to squeeze it into the limited free time that I have at my disposition. In fact, on Sunday I could afford the luxury of walking to Mass at Paola (There was the Holy Communion at Fgura) in the morning. I could have caught the bus or gone in the evening. Yet, I felt like walking, and for once, nothing could stop me. These past two days have been quiet, solitary days and I enjoyed them. I really stressed myself out during these exams and I needed to wind down. Most of my friends have not yet finished their exams and the ones who have are busy with other stuff such as TEFL courses and the like. I'm looking forward to all the going out and the chattering and the laughing but a little peace and quiet never hurt anyone. In fact, in spite of all my complaints, today I actually enjoyed my lonely bus trips to Valletta to run some errands, then to University to return some books, back to Valletta to run some more errands and finally back home. Finally also, I have time to quietly enjoy reading exam-UNrelated stuff. Actually being rather green myself, I compiled a list of books we mentioned in Critical Theory that tickled my fancy and am hoping to read as much as possible. weehey!
Summer also brings with it the obligatory reality check. Rather than listening to lectures, I'll have to go back to teaching myself. Teaching English to foreigners is something most can do, I know, but it can still be a bit of a pain, especially in the scorching Maltese summer. Foreign vodka- and amore-obsessed students can also be a bit of a pain, actually more than a bit! But more about that some other time. This year I start teaching at a new school. I just hope everything will be okay, and maybe through some little miracle, I will start to actually look forward to teaching in the real world- Maltese secondary schools, that is.
With a final Good Luck to all those who have yet to finish their exams and a hope that summer 2007 is a memorable one, I shall bid you farewell and promise you that I'll try to make my blogs more interesting as the summer gets going.
Take care
Lizzy
xxxx
Sunday was the day when the extent of my sweet sweet freedom hit me. The calm, the serenity, the peace with which I can plan my day. The way I can just do everything calmly and slowly, not having to worry that I have to find exactly what I feel like doing and try to squeeze it into the limited free time that I have at my disposition. In fact, on Sunday I could afford the luxury of walking to Mass at Paola (There was the Holy Communion at Fgura) in the morning. I could have caught the bus or gone in the evening. Yet, I felt like walking, and for once, nothing could stop me. These past two days have been quiet, solitary days and I enjoyed them. I really stressed myself out during these exams and I needed to wind down. Most of my friends have not yet finished their exams and the ones who have are busy with other stuff such as TEFL courses and the like. I'm looking forward to all the going out and the chattering and the laughing but a little peace and quiet never hurt anyone. In fact, in spite of all my complaints, today I actually enjoyed my lonely bus trips to Valletta to run some errands, then to University to return some books, back to Valletta to run some more errands and finally back home. Finally also, I have time to quietly enjoy reading exam-UNrelated stuff. Actually being rather green myself, I compiled a list of books we mentioned in Critical Theory that tickled my fancy and am hoping to read as much as possible. weehey!
Summer also brings with it the obligatory reality check. Rather than listening to lectures, I'll have to go back to teaching myself. Teaching English to foreigners is something most can do, I know, but it can still be a bit of a pain, especially in the scorching Maltese summer. Foreign vodka- and amore-obsessed students can also be a bit of a pain, actually more than a bit! But more about that some other time. This year I start teaching at a new school. I just hope everything will be okay, and maybe through some little miracle, I will start to actually look forward to teaching in the real world- Maltese secondary schools, that is.
With a final Good Luck to all those who have yet to finish their exams and a hope that summer 2007 is a memorable one, I shall bid you farewell and promise you that I'll try to make my blogs more interesting as the summer gets going.
Take care
Lizzy
xxxx
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Truly Teutonic
I come to write this blog with an air of self-satisfaction. Now self-satisfaction is not a feeling I particularly like to endorse. But I'm really happy with the way yesterday's exam went, and for once I have very few regrets. The exam in question is, as the title might have suggested to all you synonym-experts out there, a German one. A German exam made in Germany for all the poor people around the world who decide to undertake the learning of such a language upon themselves. I say this half-jokingly of course, since I believe German is simply a language like all the rest, despite the perplexed look people like to plaster across their faces whenever I tell them I actually like it. Strangely enough, this general dislike of the German language is what had attracted me to it in the first place. Until about the age of sixteen I used to think it was cool to like things that everybody else found absolutely colourless and insufferable. Hence my love affair with German, gloomy weather and a host of other unsexy things. This was obviously a misguided attempt at playing the cool detached outcast, which thankfully I have managed to gradually abandon.
The loss of my appreciation for every miserable thing others disliked meant that, midway through my first year at Junior College, I realised that German was not so awesome after all and that some attractive Romance language such as French would have suited my tastes much better. Matters were made infinitely worse by the most hopeless lecturer existent on the planet and the most ridiculously dull syllabus in matriculation certificate history. But I soldiered courageously on, and thankfully got a good grade in my A level. To cut a long story short, my passion for the strange sounding tongue had been extinguished, and it stayed so even at university. The situation did not change until around February when the combination of a couple of good lecturers and some nice poems rekindled the flame. And so now I can say I am actually, wait for this, quite HAPPY with BOTH my subjects at university. Obviously one still has to remember the third horrifying dull subject i.e Education. The mere utterance of this word seems to suck out the joy from life. Yet, poetic licence allows me to forget it exists, at least for the duration of this blog.
Returning to the original focus of this blog, the ZMP exam was not as impossible as I thought it would be and the four hours of its duration were thoughtfully punctuated by a fifteen-minute break. You see, Germans are not so heartless after all. Now I just hope I passed and got a decent grade. Should be off to study for my last exam, i.e. my optional credit, which should not be too hard. Before I leave I want to say a big thank you to all those who made my birthday a lovely day! Thanks for all the lovely things you wrote on the lovely cards and for the lovely presents :-D.
Also, I have not yet mastered the complex art of posting a link on my blog, so please look up the song "Dinner at Eight" by Rufus Wainwright. Seriously good stuff, in my musically uninformed opinion at least.
Hugs and Cookies.
Auf Wiedersehen
Lizzy
xxxx
The loss of my appreciation for every miserable thing others disliked meant that, midway through my first year at Junior College, I realised that German was not so awesome after all and that some attractive Romance language such as French would have suited my tastes much better. Matters were made infinitely worse by the most hopeless lecturer existent on the planet and the most ridiculously dull syllabus in matriculation certificate history. But I soldiered courageously on, and thankfully got a good grade in my A level. To cut a long story short, my passion for the strange sounding tongue had been extinguished, and it stayed so even at university. The situation did not change until around February when the combination of a couple of good lecturers and some nice poems rekindled the flame. And so now I can say I am actually, wait for this, quite HAPPY with BOTH my subjects at university. Obviously one still has to remember the third horrifying dull subject i.e Education. The mere utterance of this word seems to suck out the joy from life. Yet, poetic licence allows me to forget it exists, at least for the duration of this blog.
Returning to the original focus of this blog, the ZMP exam was not as impossible as I thought it would be and the four hours of its duration were thoughtfully punctuated by a fifteen-minute break. You see, Germans are not so heartless after all. Now I just hope I passed and got a decent grade. Should be off to study for my last exam, i.e. my optional credit, which should not be too hard. Before I leave I want to say a big thank you to all those who made my birthday a lovely day! Thanks for all the lovely things you wrote on the lovely cards and for the lovely presents :-D.
Also, I have not yet mastered the complex art of posting a link on my blog, so please look up the song "Dinner at Eight" by Rufus Wainwright. Seriously good stuff, in my musically uninformed opinion at least.
Hugs and Cookies.
Auf Wiedersehen
Lizzy
xxxx
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Plinky Plonky
I simply love these two words. I do not think they even exist but I found them in a live review of Keane. (Apparently the reviewer in question thought their music was plinky plonky until he went to a gig and changed his mind.) There's something that reminds me of me in those words- my clumsiness, my sometimes rather fragmented and incoherent thoughts, my inability to deliver at crucial moments and the way I simply break under pressure. Yes. Plinky Plonky. I like. Gives me a feeling of the inconsistencies of Man (as in mankind not as in the monkey-like creatures we eventually have to wind up with.)Ok I'm going too deep now. But it's what stuffing your brain/what is left of it with poetry does to you. Thinking about it, the poetry exam was a plinky plonky affair. I studied, yet two of my four essays (those with more marks btw) were fragmented poorly structured messes of simplistic English (not simple in a good way) and half-forgotten notions. Oh Whatever! I just failed to deliver. I panicked. I'll get over it, even though poetry was probably the best thing the course gave me so far and I really wanted a good grade. C'est la vie, I guess. You work hard and then break under pressure. Phonetics and Phonology and Critical Theory should be okay, though. German Grammar, ZMP (which stands for three impressively Teutonic- and odd-sounding words) and Detective Story should not be too hard and, God willing, by the ninth, I'll be a free woman.
eh and btw! Tomorrow is my birthday! Nineteen! Seems like such a huge number. Dun Gorg will be canonised tomorrow too. Ah the thi thi thi third of Ju Ju Ju June. The date simply reverberates with importance. And then it's Deborah's birthday on Monday! Happy birthday dear! Moreover, today is Tim Rice-Oxley's Birthday. He is the gorgeous pianist and songwriter from Keane. Very easy to describe him: the stuff of dreams. I'll wish him Happy Birthday too but I'm pretty sure he does not read this lol!
Btw The comments section on my last post did not seem to be working properly. There was no 'O comments' written at the end of the post. I'm quite sure no one posted a comment but if anyone did, and it didn't show, I am sorry.
Just as I was finishing this blog I got some sad news. But I do not want to blog about it. It's not blogging material and it's private, I guess. Will still publish first part of the blog though. Till next time, goodbye and take care
Liz
xxx
eh and btw! Tomorrow is my birthday! Nineteen! Seems like such a huge number. Dun Gorg will be canonised tomorrow too. Ah the thi thi thi third of Ju Ju Ju June. The date simply reverberates with importance. And then it's Deborah's birthday on Monday! Happy birthday dear! Moreover, today is Tim Rice-Oxley's Birthday. He is the gorgeous pianist and songwriter from Keane. Very easy to describe him: the stuff of dreams. I'll wish him Happy Birthday too but I'm pretty sure he does not read this lol!
Btw The comments section on my last post did not seem to be working properly. There was no 'O comments' written at the end of the post. I'm quite sure no one posted a comment but if anyone did, and it didn't show, I am sorry.
Just as I was finishing this blog I got some sad news. But I do not want to blog about it. It's not blogging material and it's private, I guess. Will still publish first part of the blog though. Till next time, goodbye and take care
Liz
xxx
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