Today was a long, tiring day. I don’t feel like writing a long post now but I will start it. I got my results today. Needless to say I was terrified and barely slept last night and had to drag myself to go see my tutor to collect them but it was with much relief and joy that I found I had passed my exams and ended up with a first. I did get lower marks for Semester 2 than Semester 1, however not so low that it dragged my average down or made me need resits. (And unsurprisingly my lowest mark was for Real Time Systems! :P) Therefore it is finally confirmed that I will be studying abroad next year in Malaysia. This has been so hard not to talk about on this blog- as so much has happened already regarding making the decision to go and starting the preparations- but I didn’t want to put any of it into words until it was confirmed I was actually going. With my results the way they are I think I can finally say I am moving to Malaysia in September and not be afraid of jinxing it. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet really, and I know that my happiness right now will soon turn to stress and anxiety as it dawns on me what I am undertaking. But when I decided to go ahead and put my application in I did so because I would rather regret going, than regret not going. That still stands.
Welcome! Honest Lies is the personal site of a 26 year old graduate electrical engineer living in the UK. Covering every day life, books and various other randomness. Read more about me and the site here.
“No, I’m wrong,” she said flatly, “I am afraid of you. Ignorance is always frightening, ignorance married to power is terrifying; and you don’t know what it is any more than I do. Do you? You don’t know what it can do, or what you can do with it…”
No, of course he didn’t. He had a stranger in his veins, a clamorous, calamitous stranger; and there was nothing he could say to comfort her, he thought perhaps there was no comfort left in the world.
– Chaz Brenchley, The Tower of the King’s Daughter
My last week in halls seems to be passing rather quickly. I have fallen into the stay up all night, sleep all day routine very easily. I go to bed in the small hours and read until its light, eat breakfast, then go to sleep the day away. The first time I did that I slept the best I have in a long, long time. No strange dreams, no stirring awake at any point. I tried to capture that again but now I just feel tired from doing too little and sleeping too much at odd hours. I’m consuming masses amount of media to pass the time and keep my mind off upcoming results- lots of fic, watching and re watching the DVDs I have lying around, tearing through my books.
I think I’m doing a good job on my goal of reading 30 books this year and may yet increase it to 50.
I started reading A Song of Achilles, though I can’t seem to get into it. It’s an exotic setting but a fairly typical storyline- the ‘ugly’, unpopular kid meets the popular one who magically isn’t a jerk and then they fall in love despite their ‘differences’. The storyline is tired and I can’t connect with the characters. I don’t know, I might fall under its spell yet. I’ve also been trying to read the Spice & Wolf novels after loving the anime series, but I find myself torn between liking them and finding them deathly boring. I love the characters of Lawrence and Holo, especially Holo, and they are adorable together but at the end of the day its a book about a travelling merchant being a travelling merchant and I have no interest in economics or currency or whatever. It’s clear I don’t understand that kind of stuff either right?
I also finally managed to finish The Tower of the King’s Daughter, which is the first in a trilogy of fat high fantasy books set in a place called Outremer, which takes inspiration from the crusader kingdoms (source). I devoured the first part of the book in a matter of days but I had to set it aside as it started to get too angsty, and I only just got the courage to finish it the other day. I loved this book but I also hated it because it was just too gritty, too depressing. I spent the first part of the book growing to love the main character Marron, and enjoying watching him fall in love with Anton and praying for them to have their HEA and well MAJOR SPOILER alert that doesn’t happen, and Anton drops of the face of the planet in the second book and I just can’t. I grew to like the other characters but not as much as I loved those two, as much as I loved them together. END SPOILER. The quote is from that book, because they are beautifully written, the world building is incredible and I love the unusual setting, but reading these books leaves me feeling sad, leaves me grieving alongside the characters for all they could have had, all they lost and are still losing. The worst thing is that just as these characters are struggling to find their happy endings, I’ll be struggling through the rest of the trilogy looking for the same thing.
So after being thoroughly depressed by that book I sought out lighter fantasy, and I picked up another Lois McMaster Bujold book, after liking The Curse of Chalion. Chose the first in the sharing knife trilogy of hers- Beguilment– and am left not sure how to feel about it. It took me by surprise, for I thought it would be the typical girl goes on adventure and learns she is the special one who needs to save the world, but instead I spent the book ‘watching’ two amazing people fall in love in a realistic manner- sweet and funny and painful without ever wallowing in the angst. It rather surpassed my expectations, but I still felt a bit dissatisfied toward the end. It was sweet but I wanted more action, and I couldn’t quite get over the age difference (it’s well over 20 years between them, and 20 is generally my limit). One of my favourite fantasy series is the Immortals by Tamora Pierce and I bring that up as it also featured the much older man paired with a very young woman and I think perhaps it was handled better there. The relationship was better paced in the immortals- they worked through their differences in age and experience, and there was that push/pull that kept it exciting, and me on the edge of my seat, for all the books, and enough going on besides to make it all the more gripping. I am somewhat confused as to where these books are going plotwise, and the romance is all but resolved. I think there are going to be some issues with the male’s family next book so I’ll be reading on if only to answer- what could possibly happen next?
It’s 5am (or it was when I started this entry). I went to bed in the early hours of the morning, when was it, sometime between 2.30am and 3.00am and I impulsively grabbed banana yoshimoto’s kitchen to read for 10 or 20 minutes to settle my mind. I ended up staying awake to read the entire book. I want to quote it, but I could not choose a single quote, because I would end up quoting the entire book, as the whole thing is profoundly beautiful. It is amazing how much the author says with so little. I cried for almost the entire time as I was reading, the words blurring on the page but still I kept reading, and even afterward I cried some more. I seem to have myself under control now. My face feels sticky- my tears seem to have left trails in my night cream or something. Currently the sky is light outside, I have my lights off and the curtains open, and I feel perfectly awake. I was going to start on another book but I suddenly felt like blogging and so why not. I think I need a distraction, something to concentrate on, otherwise I’m not sure if I’ll just start crying again.
I went to the wedding reception on Saturday. It was lovely. To risk sounding like Ritsuka from loveless, I made some good memories. No really, I was glad I went, grateful to be invited, even at times I did feel uncomfortable.
The bride looked beautiful, and both bride and groom were so blissfully happy. I didn’t see either stop smiling at any one time. Sometimes you read in books about the way people in love look at each other, and watching them together was one of those instances where I could really understand what that meant. I felt ridiculously happy for them, and who wouldn’t, seeing how joyful they were and how they looked at each other and how great their wedding seemed to have to turned out.
There were some awkward bits for me personally, of course. I clung to my sister like a child, following her around as much as I could get away with, because as as happy I was, I also felt painfully awkward, dolled up in clothes I didn’t feel comfortable in, surrounded by people I mostly didn’t know, some I did thankfully, although only a little. But mostly I’m not social and I was at a social event. Total fish out of water scenario. And there really was dancing and it was a terribly awkward, swaying on the spot wishing for the ground to swallow me whole kind of affair. There was also an incredible amount of cake and food in general, and I ate to the point where I was sure I could not eat anymore (but still did)
The musician was a live one for most of the evening, this seventeen year old who was one of those ridiculously talented young people that makes one feel somewhat ashamed, like you’ve not done enough with your life, being older than them and having so little that could make another person admire you. That kind of talent that makes difficult things look entirely effortless. My damn phone died so I could only capture parts of the performance, which sucked.
I did try the drink to relax thing but in the end that plan failed miserably, as the only alcohol I don’t mind drinking is wine, and that just makes me sleepy. By the end of the evening I was exhausted, probably mostly because of the wine, but still I can’t imagine what it must be like for those who had a bigger part in the wedding, and the couple themselves. I know my sister was emotionally drained. Although I clung to her because I was unsure, I also made sure to be available for when she needed a hug, or to lean into me for a moment. I am left wishing to never be a bridesmaid, and I did ponder what I’d do when my best friend gets married. (Likely, panic and be useless D:) The amount of work that went into the wedding is incredible, but everything turned out great and I think it was the wedding the couple wanted, which is all that really matters isn’t it.
Since then I have been back in halls, passing the days lazily, without much purpose, just idly wasting time. I think to myself that I should be doing more with this time, and I try to remember the things I had wanted to do when I had less free time only to find I can’t remember. I have too much time to my thoughts right now. I am very anxious about exams. This bizarre all nighter has been good in that way- allowing me to lose myself in someone else’s thoughts, and their sadness, instead of wallowing in my own.
The picture is of outside my window, the sky at this time is not as impressive as I’d wish.
I can’t seem to end this entry, or even to write it the way I wish. It’s very early, I’ve had no sleep, and my thought are disjointed. I’ll publish this anyway. It can’t be any worse than some of my previous entries XD
Come on, show your happiness in a new colour
Well, exams are over now. I had my last on Thursday and it went terribly, as all the others did. I’m not surprised at this one; I’m not confident with the subject and I know I didn’t work as hard as I should have for it. I was so fed up after the first three that I could barely get myself revising. I hope I have done enough to pass it at least. Now comes the wait for results. There’s a lot resting on these results and I can honestly say I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail, so I’m trying not think about it (and in that way, its all I can think of)
After the exam I got some celebratory coffee and came back to my room and I suddenly felt so unsure of myself. When revising there are always other things to do. But when you suddenly find yourself with free time its like there’s so much to do and no pressure to do any of it due to the complete lack of time limits, that you don’t even know where to begin. Its like- what do I do now?! I’m done with my first year of university. Already. Its weird. But despite my anxiety over exam results, I am glad this semester is finally done with. That uni is done with for another year. I’m ready to take a break, recharge a bit before having to go into second year.
I came home for the weekend last night . I am attending the wedding reception of my sisters best friend today. It’s strange that the wedding is already happening. I remember sitting in the car with my sister and her friends when this friend announced her engagement, at that time it was still a secret, not quite set in stone. It doesn’t feel like that long ago but it really was. I really wonder what it is like for my sister to watch her best friend get married. Shame, she has had to help organise this wedding and its obvious how stressed and emotional she is. I personally am not sure what to think about going to wedding reception. I’m grateful to be invited, but this is a social event and I am not exactly social. My sister was telling me what was likely to be happening and so I told her “I’m going to have to get very drunk for this, aren’t I?” That may turn out to be true. Gosh, there’s going to be dancing. I don’t dance. For the good of other people, that is.
I bought my dress two weeks ago, and I have some high heels that make me like 6ft tall and I am not sure I can walk in, and I did my makeup nicely although I’m terribly broken out from stress and nothing can cover it and I forgot my pressed powder which is annoying. Its rather weird dressing up like this. I didn’t even go to my school proms! So I’m feeling unsure of myself in this way too.
I hope its going to be fun. I could do with a nice fun evening after exams.
I need to go finish getting ready now- I’m nearly late!
If not now
I’m finding it difficult to sleep lately. I’ve been staying up into the small hours of the morning, afraid of my own thoughts and those horrible hours lying awake with only these thoughts to accompany me. The darkness and the quiet is stifling and I always find my mind going to strange places, thinking about everything from the books I have been reading, to making up random stories, to remembering I forgot to take the trash out earlier. The night before last I went to bed at 3am and lay awake for hours, tossing and turning and unable to become comfortable, unable to switch my mind of. Eventually I lay there, sprawled out on my back, watching the glow of the morning light seeping out from the edges of my curtains, feeling like giving up on sleeping entirely, throwing the blankets off and getting up. It was then my thoughts drifted to my memories. I remembered being in Vic Falls in Zimbabwe, and waking up 6am to go walk alongside the Zambezi river with my sister and watch the sun rise there. I remembered how surreal it all was, the enormity of the place, the mist that clung to everything, how beautiful it was. I remembered strolling to the edge whilst keeping back for fear of crocodiles, peering out into the river and wondering what was there, watching me, that I could not see. I remember the heat and the noises of well, Africa. The hum of many insects and more. I remembered sitting down to breakfast with my sister and us being the only ones there, making stupid jokes and laughing too loudly, too much, attracting odd glances from the staff there. It did not matter, in those early hours it was like it was just the two of us and the world belonged only to us.
When I find myself feeling sad, longing for home, longing for escape, my mind turns to my memories. It’s bittersweet.
I had another exam on Thursday. It didn’t go well. Worse than even the last two. I am even more disappointed in myself, and even more frustrated. Why does everything seem to be going wrong? Is this the moment where everything finally falls apart? After all, just how long can someone like me succeed.
Yesterday after lying awake all night I dragged myself out of bed at 8am, to clean up my room before heading to lectures. My dad came in the evening and took me out to supper. I almost got us lost but my dad patiently explained how to use my phones GPS, and the basic art of map reading, and basically took over and got us to the right place. I know, even after being here a year I am still hopelessly unfamiliar with this city. Its embarrassing for me because I know it shows how little I go out, how little I do with my life, and I can’t help but get anxious about my dad disapproving over it, becoming concerned about it. This place I had chosen was thankfully a nice place, not expensive, but nicer than the average student can afford, and so it wasn’t a problem that it was a Friday night in the city, when all the students come out to be as obnoxious as possible. I had been nervous about that too.
We went to eat Malay food, something both of us had never done, and we were both noticeably nervous about the whole affair. I was especially nervous, being the one who asked to go. Thankfully, it turned out to be good. The waitress was sweet, obviously malaysian, and obviously used to dealing with clueless patrons, and talked us through everything. My dad had these savoury pancakes for starters, followed by beef redang, and I had chicken satay followed by a chicken curry. The food was ridiculously delicious, although very hot and spicy, strong flavoured, the after taste lingering for hours afterwards. It was fun sitting there being able to complain to my dad about my exams and finally being able to confess my fears of failure to someone. I was strangely chatty, almost hyper, though and I wonder if I said too much. Even now I am afraid of telling my parents too much. There are things I prefer them not to know, and I wonder if sometimes I let those things slip out. I’m not exactly good at keeping my own secrets. Sometimes there are so many things I want to say, sometimes I just want to be listened to, and so I end up spilling things to all the wrong people.
Afterwards we went back to my room and my dad started taking some of my stuff, so that there won’t be as much to bring back when my sister comes to pick me up later. Then we sat and ate ice cream before he had to go. He’s going away on a business trip soon, so I won’t be seeing him for a while now. In the parking lot I waved him off as he was driving and he paused a moment to take my hand, briefly holding on, saying something stupid I can’t remember before letting go. I remember laughing, because those stupid things my dad say always make me laugh, because I can see him teasing me and the affection behind it. No matter how old I get I’ll always be his little girl, and I realised just how much I love my father and how grateful I am for him. I hope he knows that. Before he came I was feeling angry with him for many reasons, old hurts coming to the surface, childish emotions that I somehow can’t seem to shake off. But after seeing him again I feel even more childish for such thoughts, and I’m relieved I did not say anything hurtful to him. At the end of the day my father is just doing the best he can for our family. I know that. I understand. And I won’t let myself get angry over stupid things again.
Those few hours were a relief, a moment to lay my childish anger to rest once more, and many more away from the constant worry over exams. Now, I am back to being stressed and anxious. I have just this one exam to go now. Yet, I just can’t seem to bring myself to work for it.
I’m still longing for home, for escape.
I don’t want to be alone right now. The thought hits me suddenly. But the walls I built to keep people out were very effective.