Frankie says relax ...

So, here we are again. It's the stress fest that is the beginning of term. You've just arrived, have barely unpacked and before you know it you're about to have a nervous meltdown about beginning of term tests, let alone when full term kicks in - overload of lectures, insane amounts of essays to write, huge charitable events to organise, trying to fit in new societies. Aaaand relax, because no matter what has gone before, this term is going to be different.

Last term, the stress got to me but now I refuse to let the expectations of others and the pressures of work affect my wellbeing and push me towards a lifestyle which is an unbalanced, not to mention an unhappy, one.

My plan (aside for power bikram yoga sessions on my new mat which I received from Best Friend for Christmas?) is to be inspired by a quote which mirrors my mentality.

The first one I found was from Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar: 'There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure  but I don't know many of them.' Well, wise though she may be, this quote is simply unfortunate for I do not have a bath at university and 100 miles is rather a long trip to soothe away my troubles.

The next, located firmly in the classics, was from Ovid: 'Take a rest. The field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.' Firstly, I'm not a field and, secondly, I don't need to rest; I need motivation to work yet in an unstressed and zen like manner. Onwards and, hopefully, upwards.


My third quote is from Maureen Killoran,who quite frankly I do not know from Adam but whose advice is sage. "Stress is not what happens to us. It's our response TO what happens. And RESPONSE is something we can choose."

Can I buy you a drink?

Yesterday, after a pretty solid day of revision, I thought I'd earned break and so popped out for some birthday cocktails with a friend who's back from her year abroad. Only virgin cocktails, though ... I'm still on a bit of a detox from NYE! So, I slick on some mascara and bop off to the bar. So far, so good. The group was a little awkward at first but, as the night went on, we all loosened up and it was pretty chilled - just what I wanted from the evening.

But, cherchez le drame, as my tutor always reminds me! As we were chatting and laughing, these two guys outside started dancing at the window. At first, I though they were so drunk they were just dancing at their reflections but it turned out they were dancing at me! One of them motioned at me to come with. Well, as you can imagined, I laughed it off, smiled and carried on with my pint sized class of vodka - I joke, water! Ten minutes later, this guy pops in and says that he sorry to interrupt but would I like to pop down for a drink with him at a local pub. Slightly shocked, I declined as politely as I could, explaining that it was my friend's birthday whilst complimenting him for his unusual twist and swivel dance move. Again, we carry on chatting and joking and then these two guys casually saunter into the bar, trying on the whole 'oh, you're here too?' act. He comes over (apparently, third time's a charm!) and offers to buy me and the birthday girl a drink... so much for the detox! I very reluctantly accepted an appletini (sickeningly sweet, in case you cared to know) and then felt obliged to go over, thank him and then chat to him for a good hour as he blatantly hit on me and I tried to maintain a bizarre balance between polite and friendly yet frigid.

But here's my dilemma: what is the suitable etiquette for such a situation? Essentially, I just wanted to hang out with my friends but there's only so many times I can politely refuse. The whole situation seemed epitomised by the appletini: yes, it was a sweet gesture, and there didn't seem to be a creepy subtext, but it was sickening, if only because I was trying to detox at the time and hang out with my friends and didn't want to be pressurised into flirting with a guy who I wasn't particularly blown away by. This was not helped by being referred to as 'little lady' all night.

I was only too happy to be distracted by the arrival of some of the boys, even if it meant being mercilessly mocked for my debauched NYE antics!

New year's resolutions

I firmly believe that I am cursed when it comes to NYE. Two years ago, I was stranded at the world's most bizarre party. A friend and I came up with the marvellous plan of ringing up an old friend and inviting ourselves to his house party in Euston. However, after missing the last train, being dumped by a cheat of a taxi driver in the middle of nowhere and faced with policemen who seemed to be having difficulty with the concept of London let alone with the notion of providing directions, we decided to call it quits. We finally arrived (at 3am) back at Victoria to stumble back home to bed. Last year, a group of us were having a lovely dinner before we realised that we had not organised a single thing. Cut to us texting everyone in our phone books trying to scout out a glamorous location for midnight (not my proudest moment, I'll admit). Finally, we got an invite from a girl whom we knew from school. In our desperation, we headed over. Whilst sitting at her glass dining table, it spontaneously smashed to pieces which I found a very fitting metaphor for the entire night. We left at approximately 5 past midnight.

So this year, with absolutely no expectations (perhaps the downfall of many a NYE), we set off for our party. Lovely dinner beforehand and a brief stop off at the pub before we arrived, all quite merry... And when I say merry I mean I can't remember much past midnight. It is such an unpleasant feeling not being able to remember how I behaved or what I did and I feel terrible for placing such a burden on my friends. I've not been able to stop thinking about it for days and feel ridiculously embarrassed as well as unable to work out where I went so wrong.

However, I've resolved not to dwell too much longer on the whole debacle which completes my triad of dubious New Year's Eve parties, save only to take away these realisations: Firstly, how lucky I am to have such savvy friends who did such an amazing job taking care of me. Best Friend's dad was also (unexpectedly) amazing and all made me feel a little bit better in the morning by gently mocking me for my drunken behaviour including believing we were living in the 1990s. Secondly, to curb drinking so much. More difficult as I can't pinpoint exactly where I went wrong and am sure I've drunk more than that before but hopefully this memory will serve as an acute warning in the future, if ever I feel myself tempted towards one to many.

This brings me to my general new year's resolutions, aside from being grateful for my friends and trying fairly hard not to become comatose too often. People often treat resolutions with such disdain but I love the feeling of hope which a new year brings, a feeling that one can start afresh and not be dogged by past attitudes and behaviour.Et voila, one no longer even has to try with such an amazing website - why not give it a go?

Tidings of comfort and joy

Yes, dear reader, I am bringing you tidings of comfort and joy of my lovely Christmas period which is now being completely sullied by horrid collections (as you can see, I'm revising hard).

The nightmare before Christmas:
Having rushed round the shops in near blizzard-esque conditions (sc. light dusting) I dashed over to Best Friend's dragging an oversized suitcase with me since I was staying the night before we headed off to Dublin for a couple of days with the girls. At least, this was the plan before RyanAir and snow conspired against us. We packed all our clothes into our liquid-free hand luggage and combined all the rest of our belongings into a giant suitcase of
a) make-up
b) alcohol
SO CHRISTMASSSYYY! But, alas and alack, we returned from a celebratory dinner to find that our marvellous plans had been ruined by the dastardly Ryanair who only deigned to inform us that flight was cancelled two hours after scheduled to arrive and even had the cheek to label their message 'urgent.' So, we slept a lot, exchanged birthday presents and trumped off back home again. NYE is definitely the new Dubs.

All I want for Christmas:
Is an internship. Seriously. Before Christmas, I almost landed the DREAM internship - charity+arts+glamourous location+big celebrity laden party to organise = a very excited bunny. I spent the entire day before hand trying on multiple corporate outfits before tottering off to the interview only to be told that our dates clashed. I couldn't have felt more disappointed (I think the word I'm actually looking for is bleugh) but have come to realise that not only was it a great experience but I also managed to sneak in a casual bit of networking. Score.

Joyeux Noel:
Lots of enjoyable little events made up my Christmas this year: going to see the Winter's Tale with the cousins, lovely carolling in the chapel, the big day before our very own version of a Winter's Tale: going to see our other cousins on boxing day who (almost a year and a half after moving in) still have no heating! Then more family and more bored games (sorry, I meant board games, honestly) before the FEAR set in. For those of your unaccustomed with the concept of the FEAR, it's what you need to get in the ZONE, which is where you want to be if you have high hopes for exams...Yeahhno, I'm not 100% on these buzz words either.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Coffee art

Spent yesterday afternoon just sitting and chatting with two old friends in a lovely, independent coffee shop with big misty windows and all the tables squashed in tight. Picturesque, though I did have to steal a chair which somebody had reserved for their handbag but, let's face it, inanimate objects do not chair privileges get. 
Fings wot i like: 
1) That I have people in my life that I can not see for months on end but when we get together again the conversation's easy because we've known each other forever. However busy university life gets, you can always make time for something you really want to do.
2) Coffee art. Literally makes the coffee taste better, or the caffeine flow quicker! Definitely a topic for scientific study right there.

Get Lost!

I'm so proud to be part of society which has grown so much in the past few years and which can truly claim to contribute something worthwhile to a university which often fosters a self-centred perspective. The event Lost sums up what RAG means to me, really: a bit crazy, oodles of fun, successful and a great event for charity. Hitch-hiking from the middle of nowhere - on planes, barges, buses, trains, trucks, you name it - to get back home as fast as you can ... what else are Saturdays for?
Just like RAG, Lost's getting bigger and bigger. From £2,600 in its first year, and just under £9,000 in its second, this year promises to be even more spectacular.

Amazing posters, brand new website, (ice cream flavoured) support from a lovely local palour... Now just to secure some fantastic prizes! German music festival or tour of an F1 factory anyone?