In limbo

I've just cried a bit, one of those comforting bouts of weeping that come from the heart. I had yet another argument with my mother because she still thinks I'm doing something stupid and I should become a teacher. To make matters worse, I went to university for nothing because Dr. Callus was doing the third year viva voce exams and he has not even answered my email. Which is doubly odd, since he'd answered me back when he was on holiday. Lecturers: strange people. The bad thing about all this is that I very easily get discouraged and right now all I want is just to be safely registered in the B.A. course, with no more question marks looming about my poor weary head. My mum just does no help. All she has contributed to the situation is doubt and even more useless worrying, and then she wonders why we're not getting on so well at the moment. She says she's really proud of me and my results, but if she really were, she'd trust me more and stop looking at my decision as some kind of anti-climax. This afternoon she told me that I might be on the way to becoming 'sfrattata' (?!?!?). I was speechless and refused to even continue the conversation. Some statements really cannot be dignified with an answer (to shamelessly copy Bridget Jones), so I stormed upstairs and took comfort in loads and loads of Keane. I know that anyone reading this blog must be thinking I have the most boring musical tastes ever, simply because I've been listening to an overdose of the same band for roughly five months now. HOWEVER, I do listen to other stuff (I just do not document it on this blog) and what's wrong with finding great great comfort in something and sticking to it? I'm listening to some of their earlier stuff at the moment, singles and B-sides they released before getting a good record deal. It might not be very polished but it still has that special genuine sweetness and the lovely melodies that have made them successful. This song is of particular interest. It is one of the few songs written by the band's singer (Tom Chaplin) and it makes me wonder why he stopped writing for the band. It would be very interesting if both Tim (the gorgeous pianist) and Tom wrote, I think.

Anyways, there I was talking about serious things like university and I get sidetracked talking about Keane. That kind of says something about my wish for escapism and the extent of how fed up I am of being in limbo (hence the title). One last thing before I continue. Just in case you haven't noticed yet, I love Keane, soo much! Anyways, I was talking about how my mother called me 'sfrattata'. The reason for this was because I stayed out in the sun after going to uni and Desiree and I went near the sea under the MCC to rest our tired feet in the water. What's more, we even commited the heinous crime of staying out till two on a Sunday night, even though we had been waiting for the stinking van since midnight. I hate transport services!!! What on Earth is happening to the fun-loving, understanding mum I had? She who used to drag me to go shopping and to go to the beautician and plead with me to go out and make friends back in the Dark Ages of my early teens (ref. earlier posts)? I know I am not the perfect daughter. I know I sometimes keep everything to myself and I really do not help in the housework. I also have the bad habit of mumbling and muttering angrily to her for no particularly valid reason, especially when I can't find the eyeliner I'd misplaced myself the night before. Yet, I've always done my level best to act respectably and to practise the values she has lovingly inculcated in us ever since we were kids, and for this she sometimes forgets to give me credit. I wish things were okay since mum is quite a darling at the end of the day. Despite everything, all she wants is that we're well. Yet, her ideas of wellbeing can sometimes be stubbornly limited and exclusive. Steering clear of B.A courses is one such idea.

This entry has been very emotional and soppy but I really needed to let all this out, so please bear with me. I hope things will start looking brighter and I will be able to wax lyrical about the joys of foreign-student-free life soon!

P.S. My lovely brother (I really can't help loving him to bits) told me this lovely line from 'The Pursuit of Happyness'- "Don't let anyone tell you that you cannot make it, even if it is yourself." Why can't everyone be that kind and understanding?

Till next time,

Take care,
Lizzy
xxxxx