Down.... Get out!

I shouldn't feel crap right now, but I do. So much so that I have one of those stressy headaches. The ones that, at first, feel like a migraine (scaring me silly) but turn out to be just a reasonably bearable nuisance.

Technically, I'm more "happy" than I've been in a long time. After a year "out" (working), I've returned to college for a postgrad. And in IT, of all things! It's fantastic, very interesting so far, and full of nice people. Great Modules: Java Programming, a bit of Web Design, and - who knows - might be sucked back into the online world and start tending to this poor aul neglected blog again.

We'll see.

And I have a lovely new home, lovely new area, lovely new leather boots... Lots of "new"-ness. Fresh - exciting - hopeful - engaging - refreshing - etc. I feel like things are finally moving again. A stagnant year is over, and I only realised how discouraged and defeated I had been feeling when it hit me that I didn't have to wake up for WORK on Monday mornings anymore... but something far better.

Day 1 Journalism:
"50% of you won't make it to final year"
"Of those that do, most will have to move abroad for jobs"
"Of those that even get into journalism at all, very few will ever make a living wage on it alone"
(^pre-recession, btw!)

Day 1 Grad Dip in IT:
"Most of you might get offers before you graduate. Employers come to the graduation too, looking for CVs, but by then it can be too late."

In fairness, those journalism "facts" didn't turn out to be very accurate (we pretty much ALL got to final year, and a good chunk of my ex-class are working in the media and doing pretty impressive stuff. I'm not, but I was always a bit of an oddity.)
But, all the same, isn't that a reason to be happy? Isn't that enough to reassure me that I won't be an aimless drifter forever? That I can play it by ear, with confidence, from 'ere?

I read somewhere (?) that people have a certain "happiness level" that they default to, regardless of whether they win the lottery or land their dream job. It explained why money doesn't make people happy, etc. I worried about that for a while.
But... it's not exactly true. So, I stopped worrying about that, and started wondering why exactly it is that I'm unhappy now.

• It's not work. (My reduced hours have helped me find a new enjoyment for the job)
  
• It's not college. (It's only week 2 - but I love it)
  
• It's not fear of not getting a job. (I'm on a good track)
  
• It's not my relationship. (well, I hope not. We have little things to work on, but they're little. And nothing a good aul pow-wow won't fix next time we've a free evening.)
  
• ...?

But... my friends are all leaving the country. (Those that haven't left already, that is) My brother, and sister, and oldest friend, are gone now too. My other best friend's been gone over a year.
Those left in Limerick? I never see'm. I'm working every weekend.
I miss them all, terribly, and maybe that puts strain on my relationship, too. Suddenly, maybe, it feels like he's all I have; I'm putting more pressure on things to be "right"; I'm scared more when things aren't.
But it's more than that...
It's that I can't go!
The promise of a sure-thing at the end of my IT tunnel is both a huge reassurance, and a very, very scary realisation:
I never got my year out.
Never lived or worked abroad.
Never even went on Erasmnus ffs! Or J1. Or Interrailling.

**********************************

...Oh COME ON.

I've moaned and panicked for years that I'll never have a career, never decide on something cos I enjoy so many different things, study forever and try loads but never realise my potential, etc etc.
Now that there's some hope I'm moaning even more? Job = money. THEN I can travel. New career = new friends AND money, AND holidays I can use to visit my old ones.

Snap out of it!
Time to get out of the house.



Or...at the very least... out of my jamas.

New, and altogether different

Broke. Scraping by. Over-worked. Stressed. Sick. Chain-smoking. Living on caffeine and 20min naps in the (less interesting) lectures..... Some of the many things I DON'T miss about being a student.
(well, the naps were pretty nice, actually...)


And yet, this day two weeks, that's exactly what I'll be once again.


One of my old DIT lecturers popped into my shop the other day, picking up a repair for his wife, and smilingly said, "Studentdom is wasted on the students. You'll appreciate college so much more this time."


Hope so.


The course I'm doing is open to all sorts: geeks who fell into jobs and finally want formal qualifications; geeks who've been fiddling with their own computers for years and finally decided to study IT formally; and geeks who were a little misguided on their choice of undergrad (i.e. me) and want a chance to ctrl+y the whole college thing... Like any postgrad, and unlike an undergrad, we're all going to be at different ages, stages, levels of experience...


I just hope I'm not gonna be the dunce in the corner! Much as I've always been interested in computers and all that, tbh I'd be exaggerating to even call it a hobby. Hell, since teaching myself quick, proper typing as a kid, and then basic html in my pree-teens (to build fansites for pokemon, etc, that never made it online..!), I haven't done a damn thing. That's over a decade. My myspace page, a brilliant practice-ground, has been gathering dust for what feels like millennia, and this blog? Well. You can see how often I update the content - let alone the decorative script. Tech-Aoife is someone I haven't seen in a LONG time. She's more than just rusty, she's practically fossilised.


So, I'm worried I'm too out of touch. Too far behind. I don't want to be slower than the others. I don't want to be blatantly struggling. I'm usually "the weird, slightly cold-at-first, nerdy girl"; I don't want to be "the weird, totally in-over-her-head, ditzy girl". Christ. Not in a classroom full of people who could've fuckin' written the course itself (and just need the cert. to prove it...) I feel inferior, hugely inferior, to people I haven't even met yet.


This is stupid.
What am I on about?
Like everything new, this is daunting. Even... scary. But I pick things up quickly enough, I'm interested (I must be - I chose it over every other course i could find - not for the title, but for the modules themselves), and being interested means I'll be at an advantage straight away. It's something I've always been interested in, and faffing around with journalism for four years doesn't make me an airy-fairy arty type who won't be able to grasp the tough stuff. On the contrary, I'll be shorthanding my notes and kicking ass with my essays and finding the theory-side a piece of cake, leaving more time to study and absorb the more alien info. Yeah!


It'll be fine.
*breathe*
Whew...

All I can do is my best. And it'll be grand. (So long as the money doesn't run out...) Roll on studentdom, brokedom, over-workedom, stressdom, (and all the other doms)... Things have been static, stagnant, for too long. At least this is a change. And, whether change is good or bad... at least it's something.

Burgled! (also hello hello, been a while, etc)

Nothing major stolen from me. I haven't much worth stealing, it seems... An unopened perfume/make-up gift set I'd just gotten that looked valuable, some electrical items.... And a hat. (Which I imagine was used to prevent leaving prints as it was tossed outside by my back door). My housemate, however, lost laptop, camera, etc... Poor guy.

Landlady got an earful (seeing as it was entirely her fault) and agreed to take a chunk off the rent to make up for the fact I've been (a) robbed and (b) essentially been homeless for a week and a half. BUT my window's now been fixed, and new more secure bars go up tomorrow. I may then feel comfortable staying here again. I miss my room, but couldn't very well expect to sleep soundly with my window hanging by one hinge and only a bike-lock between me and the burglar's return.

The gardai who came to have a look around and take fingerprints gave us one piece of advice: Move.

Evidence of rats (and human-rats) hanging around outside our back door, bad plumbing (filthy)... But mainly because we are so completely exposed at the back of the house. The bars will help make the place more "secure" but, 'though we won't have another break-in, they will hinder a speedy exit in case of fire (actually, they'll make it near impossible, but that's a worry for another time)

So, move I shall. Not right now, but soon enough.

But where to? This prime-positioned but grotty home of mine may be convenient for work and everything but, come late September, Northside may be a better location as I'll be spending most days of the week doing my new course.
Yes. After a year working aimlessly, I'm going back to school again. I.T. this time. Should be fun!

Why I.T.? It just happened that way... I finished my thesis, FYPs and all the related rubbish this time last year. Done. I then went into a kind of hibernation - working away, minimum wage, pretending the epiphany would strike any minute and/or I'd be poached from my shop and whisked away onto the first rung of the career ladder of my dreams. Any minute now...!

I just went to work and wasted the months away; daydreaming, but not doing. Once fed up with that, I started trawling through course after course online...
Masters, Post-grads... Even brand new BAs... Evening courses, Part-time courses, Internships, Everything. I even looked into the possibility of packing it all in and going back to study Art! (Which is what my very talented little sister is doing, despite the fact I was the more "arty" child...)

I don't envy her achievements and plans; I chose the path to here, and am happy with that. What I do envy, however, is her certainty. She knows what area is hers, and even where within it she'd like to get to. A talent I lack.

I decided against the art thing. I didn't want it badly enough first time around, and I don't fancy investing another, what, 3-4 years in something I'm just doing for the sake of a pre-teen whim I've long grown out of. Once upon a time, it was my "thing". Not anymore.

I looked at courses in publishing, media, script writing, editing, radio, tv production, and all sorts of semi-related crap. Most seemed interesting. None seemed right.

I then saw an article on a website praising conversion courses - the handy way to re-route your studies with a short, practical, graduate-only course.

*click*

I.T.? Hmm... ok... just to see...

*click*

When the page loaded up, a list of modules appeared. All were subjects I've often wondered about, always wanted to learn more about, but never did. All were covered in one, fabulous year. I sent the deposit away today. It's official.

As for moving? The bars will buy me some time. I've been asking myself whether I'm ready to move in with himself yet or not. The dust is settling here, slowly, and my room and home will be my room and home again soon enough. When I can think straight once again, I suspect it won't be a tough decision.

Let's hope I don't procrastinate long enough to burn to death, 'though.

See?

This is exactly why I've been so reluctant to buy a wireless USB thingie.
True, it makes college work easier, email more accessible, saves on paying for internet cafes... all very good, yes?

Ah, but you see... it's 4am... and here I am.

I've been googling the Dublin Hellfire Club* (freaky shit right there), as a dude in work has organised a trip there late this Friday. Eep.

At least two of the lads are going dressed as ghostbusters. Hell yeah.

Shhh - Yes I know I have college stuff, and the play, and all that jazz, but dya honestly think this is something I was gonna miss?




*why that link? well, it's the first article i read that really sparked a thirst for more. wikipedia's too dry-shite-y and reasonable - it's the hearsay and crap that makes this ooggy-boogy stuff fun.

Today, I stood up to a wasp! ^_^

I’m sorry, but I’m very, very excited about this and HAD to post.

I’m not afraid of much – I’ve always wanted a pet snake or tarantula. I think mice are adorable. As for insects… Flies are a nuisance, ants are to be avoided, but aren’t scary. And bees? I actually quite like bees.
Wasps, however, petrify me.

They always have. Don’t ask me why. I haven’t the faintest idea. It’s completely irrational. It’s nothing to panic over. And it doesn’t make sense that bees don’t scare me. I’ll hear the buzz and begin to panic and see it’s a bee and go “whew” and relax.

I’ve been stung before – and it’s not so bad. A little pinch, and itchiness. Not so scary. I get migraines every week! A wasp sting is NOTHING. It’s not that painful. And I know this. I know it well. But knowing that doesn’t help.

It’s the way they flit around and are everywhere at once and are so fast and small; before you know it they’re behind you, or beside your head, or in your hair, and they chase you when you run and they buzzzzzzzz so viciously and the noise is all around you! And, I dunno, I’ve pretty bad depth perception too so when a wasp is there zig-zagging towards me I can’t tell how close it is and – argh.

Horrible.

One time there was one in my room, and I hadn’t noticed, and I was standing in front of my wardrobe, and I heard the buzz – directly above my head – and, without thinking, I dropped to the floor and scrambled out of the room… army-style. You’d swear a grenade had gone off.

Another time I was staying with a friend, and we got home from a party around 5, and at 6 or 7ish the sun came up, and the wasp that’d been in the room (asleep on the skylight) woke and started circling and screeching and I was awake and out of the room before I even remembered where I was. Not wanting to wake anyone, and having taken my duvet with me, I sat on a chair outside the room, hoping the little shit would roam into the hall and I’d be able to dive in and barricade the door behind me.

My friend found me later that morning, sound asleep on the chair, duvet ‘round me, still clutching my rolled-up magazine - waiting. He walked into the room and casually shooed the monster out the window. Mortified, I went back to bed.



*****



Some psycho woman went for me in the bar last night.

I quietly, smiley-ly, politely asked her to stop spraying deodorant on her feet in the middle of the bar, as another customer had said they were allergic to those sprays. I suggested she maybe go up to the bathroom or something.

“Are you threatening me? Fuck off!”
No, of course not, there’s no need to raise your voice…
“Where are you from? Listen you dirty cunt, I’m a Dub, right? I’ll kick the fuckin’ gee out of ye!”

Charming, eh? I’m still not sure what I said to set her off.

Unsettling? Yeah! Unexpected? Definately. But scary? Not really. I didn’t know what to do, and when she swung at me and kicked me, I blocked, but mainly just stood there like an eejit, knowing the lads would be back any minute to gimme a hand, quietly asking her to calm down – I knew I’d be in serious trouble if I so much as laid a hand on her, and didn’t raise my voice once. By the end I’ll admit I got a little thick with her, maybe – but you should’ve heard her!

Anyway, the other barmaid finally came downstairs and helped me get rid of her. She’ll be barred for good. Turns out she was barred years ago for similar erratic/violent behaviour. Our club’s like a magnet for oddballs… What happens to people to make them that way?

That should have been scary, right? Apart from the (godsent) customer who stepped between us, I was on my own with the batty bitch.
But it was grand, like. I kept my cool.
And yet I’m petrified by a little wasp?



*****



Today, I heard that familiar, harsher-than-yer-average buzz… and froze.
But, this time, I didn’t sprint out of the room and slam the door in panic. OR hide in the bathroom.

I kept calm(ish)… I crept over to the window that it was bopping its stupid little head against. I slowly reached up – my hands inches from the tiny, angry beast – and pushed it open. And… miraculously… out it flew!

Just like that.

I am so proud of myself.