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The Pie

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4/10/07 11:39 am - Upset (again)

What gets me most about this is that he never sees how much he has upset me until I tell him. Why should I have to tell him that he has been cruel? He's supposed to be my lobster, my bear, the one who will always love and understand me unconditionally, but why doesn't he understand that this upsets me?

I love him. I love him so much. I'm so afraid that he'll just keep ignoring me, that he won't call me, that he won't really care enough to want me back, that he'll just let me slip away because he doesn't want to acknowledge that he's in the wrong.

I mean, it's just all so ridiculous. He knew all along how much work he had to do, and he just didn't do it. He said to me that even if he'd worked as hard as he could for the whole holidays he still wouldn't have got it all done - what a lie. If he thinks he'll get it done this week then of course he could have done it in three weeks. It's just more proof that he doesn't respect me or care about me.

Oh God, I'm so upset. I miss the old Chris so much. I miss the Chris who would care about me. I don't really know if it's even possible to miss him, did I ever have him? I wish he would just love me like he says he does. I wish he would care enough about me to think ahead, I wish he would respect me enough to not commit to something he isn't yet sure about, I wish he would do me the decency of not saying yes until he'd asked his dad.

It was silly of me to expect he would come, I suppose.

My family is not stupid. They all knew that Chris was supposed to be coming. What am I going to tell them? - that he decided he had too much work. Well, they'll all see that for what it is - an insult. Someone who loved me would have organised himself more, he would have made sure, if he'd committed to something, that he had all of his work done in time to honour that commitment. And someone who loved me wouldn't have made that commitment in the first place without first being sure that he was able to keep it.

I feel so alone. I've given him so much of my time, so much of my love, just to have it all thrown back at me now, and who can I turn to for help? He doesn't even respect me enough to tell me the truth, yes, that hurts too. If he really had so much concern about this work he has to do, then he wouldn't be on facebook, he wouldn't be on gmail, he wouldn't want to go out to jerome's, he wouldn't be stopping work at 5 in the evenings, he wouldn't want to go to couples night, he wouldn't want to see me this week either. He could still come if he wanted to. If he really wanted to, he could work from early in the morning to late at night, he could not come to the weekend away until Saturday, so that he could work on Friday too, he could even bring some work with him to do there. He could even work on the train. He wouldn't even lose that much working time.

But he didn't even do me that simple kindness.

I honestly do not know what to do. I love him so much, but he treats me like this, and he doesn't see anything wrong with it. I am so so so upset by his actions, but he doesn't understand why I am upset. He's even getting back in touch with all of his female friends and asking them how they are, as if nothing is wrong, almost as if he's trying to make me upset.

What happened to my bear? I miss him so much. I wish he was here.

2/5/07 10:16 pm

It hurts so much that they won't even try to understand. Like for example, tonight she just left the house because the atnosphere was "too sad" and she "just had to get out". Does she not care about how it feels for me? I didn't want to be alone. And this morning he was yelling at me about school and driving and eating, I wish he would just hug me and comfort me. I wish either of them would.

I wish uberbunk was my friend. I don't understand him at all and it feels so much like he's just trying to hurt me. And he's succeeding. I've never hurt this much in my entire life.

11/6/06 06:47 pm - pudding and yoghurt

Time for an exciting foray into the crazy history of Susannah! Today I decided to delve into the fascinating world of my various and varied nicknames.

1) SK - awww. my first ever proper nickname. patronised by Miranda, with whom I have sadly fallen out of touch. I met her on a bus once, and she ran away from me (this I thought was VERY very rude).

2) Honk - ahh the memories. Once in an IT lesson, Katy asked me a question, and instead of saying "yes?" as a normal person would do, for some reason I responded with "HOOOOOOOOOOOONK". I think I was in an odd mood that day. Anyway, it soon caught on, and we came up with an ingeniuos set of honking rituals which we performed. Fun at the time, bizarre to remember...

3) Sulfico - we made Sinéad be the sacrificial pig. 'nuff said.

4) Sooz - one terrible day, while queueing up for a science lesson, i was re-christened sooz. it was painful and i still bear the scars. the only good thing to come of this was that apparently that McFly song is about a girl named Sooz, so i got to pretend it was about me. (it's not, FYI).

5) Yoghurt girl - around the same time as the GeekyBoffs started (no questions) i had an unfortunate incident with yoghurt eating, and a very funny joke. It was a bad day for all, especially Kate, Rhian, and me.

6) pudding and pie - soosie poosie puddng and pie got shortened.

7) SK1 - woo india!!! apparently the "SK1" is a type of car. however i remain scpetical. i think i am most definitely not a type of car. i think that i would know!

8) Susie - SO much nicer than Sooz.

Throughout this only my parents, Chris, and Sinéad still call me Susannah. Which is nice. And I get to call him Christopher (tehehe!!).

10/29/06 02:06 pm - Procrastination

"The deferment or avoidance of an action or task.

"For the person procrastinating this may result in stress, a sense of guilt, the loss of productivity, the creation of crisis, and the chagrin of others for not fulfilling one's responsibilities or commitments. While it is normal for individuals to procrastinate to some degree, it becomes a problem when it impedes normal functioning. Chronic procrastination may be a sign of an underlying psychological or physiological disorder.

"The word itself comes from the Latin word procrastinatus: pro- (forward) and crastinus (of tomorrow). The term's first known appearance was in the 17th century, during a sermon by a Reverend Anthoney Walker on procrastination. The sermon reflected procrastination's connection at the time to task avoidance or delay, volition or will, and sin."

Well that makes me feel worse... I am stressed, I have a sense of guilt, I have lost productivity, I have created a crisis, and I believe that others may have chagrin(?). Hmmm. I think one of the causes of procrastination is a feeling that there is SO MUCH to do that there's really no point even starting, because I'm never going to get through it all :( Or of course, it could just be that I am terribly lazy and I don't much feel like working and I probably could get it done OK even if I don't work today...

Eurgh. Sunday's are always such wasted days. I never feel like working on them, and I never get to see Chris, and therefore I get to the end of Sunday feeling like it's all been a bit of a waste. I always tell myself I'm going to work, but there's never any point before lunch time and then after lunch there's only a few hours till I have to go to church so I have to start getting dressed etc.

I don't really have a leg to stand on.

Wait a second, isn't that a leg there attached to my hip?!?! And there's another one! :O I have TWO LEGS to stand on!!!

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

10/15/06 03:14 pm - What do I truly think of my friends eh?

How odd. This isn't true at all :( and there I was expecting great things...

What You Really Think Of Your Friends
Anna MJ is your soulmate.
You truly love Juliette.
You consider Sinead your true friend.
You know that Liz is always thinking of you.
You'll remember Tadhgh for the rest of your life.
You secretly think Chris McQ is creative, charming, and a bit too dramatic at times.
You secretly think that Katy Snorder is colorful, impulsive, and a total risk taker.
You secretly think that Josh is loyal and trustworthy to you. And that Josh changes lovers faster than underwear.
You secretly think Jade is shy and nonconfrontational. And that Jade has a hidden internet romance.
What Do You Think of Your Friends?

10/2/06 10:50 pm - Knowledge of the Past

"they have some real knowledge of the past and it has a determinate nature and, to that extent, resembles eternity" - C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters.

There are times when I honestly wish I could just press a button somewhere and it would all be over. Fast-forward through the tough bits. Rewind through the horrible bits and try, over and over again, to get it right.

Looking back it seems as if I could make it all right if I could go back with all this new knowledge, but I don't think it would really be like that in the end. I don't think anyone really knows what they would change if they could go back. And if I did go back, and I had the opportunity to make a change, and to do something differently, there's no way of knowing that that would even have been the right choice. I'd ultimately still have to face the unknown in the wake of my choices and actions. And maybe there's a reason why I made certain decisions - maybe it's not possible that this could have happened any other way.

I'm torn between the idea that everything in my life has been planned and the idea that it's my choice. It's easier, at times like these, to fall back on some strange belief in fate and tell myself that I had no control over what happened. But surely if I rely on this belief, I cannot have a true sense of self at all - if everything I do is predestined and everything I think preordained then surely I am simply a robot following a set course, and there is no "me" as such to make any choices, but simply a predetermined construct designed to make sure the path is followed.

So even if I want to tell myself that nothing I've done is my fault, I know deep down that I can't. And yet I only have to read passages such as Eph. 1:1-14, Rom. 8:28-30, 2 Th. 2:13 to persuade me that nevertheless it is predetermined. Even so, though, everything inside me tells me that my choices are my responsibility and my fault, and I know that this is true, and that I should understand the above passages in tandem with 1 Tim 2:4, but sometimes I guess I just find it hard to reconcile that belief with my daily life and actions.

It feels like the me of the past is a completely different person. I look back on her and the things she's done and I am completely baffled as to how they are supposed to fit in with the me I know I am at the moment. I guess it all fits in with what I was thinking about yesterday, about who I really am - I suppose the person that I am deep down grows and changes every day. In a sense, then, it's stupid to try to write it all down. I'm never going to be the same person I was yesterday, but instead I'll constantly be changing, growing, and learning new things. And maybe that's a good thing... maybe I need those bad, terrible experiences and choices to teach me more about myself.

So I suppose I wouldn't go back, even if I could. I'd just live through the pain again... that seems about right.

10/1/06 06:00 pm - Me

What makes me Susannah... don't know why I was thinking along this track but I suddenly discovered that I was. And I thought, it's really weird, because I'm a different Susannah around different people, and around some people I'm Sooz, or Susie, or Suse, or SK1, and sometimes they're different people, and sometimes they're the same person, and sometimes they're not, and sometimes they merge and I'm not really sure which one I am. And maybe I change according to what they expect of me, how they expect me to act and talk and live my life. Maybe the people who I know define me in some way, and if this is true then maybe I have the opportunity to become someone else with every new person...

But beneath it all I am Susannah. I am Susannah because of the way I skip when I'm walking, because of the way my smile is asymmetrical and doesn't show my teeth, the way I shake my head to flick my hair away. The way my mood is related to the weather, and how if the sun shines I'll smile all over my face. I can't listen to good music without singing along, even if I don't know the words (but I'll pretend I do), and I do a silly little Susannah dance when I'm singing. I think freckles look cute and occasionally dye my hair purple purely so that I can feel as if I'm reinventing myself in some way. I remember totally random details about people and things and I get annoyed if I recognise someone in a film and can't remember where I know their face from. I devour books, and get through them far too fast. I can re-read certain passages of books endlessly. I have a strange taste in films and a generally odd sense of humour, and an insane laugh. I want to be different from everyone else, but sometimes I feel like all I've managed is to make myself more like them than before. I want to be above the influence. I believe in God, and I believe in love. I believe in my friends, and I believe in myself. I know that if I try hard enough I can achieve anything I want to. I blush far too easily, and far too much, over the smallest things. I'm afraid of being alone. I can't sing, but I wish I could. I like things to be clean, but I don't enjoy cleaning. I like cooking, but I hate starting to cook. I'm afraid of shoe-shop assistants. I believe in saving friendships, and mending broken ones. I will never be happy with the way I look. I only like the smell of one perfume in the world, but all flowers smell wonderful to me. Jeans never fit me properly, and I probably own too many skirts. I believe that music can cleanse, heal, comfort, break, terrify, and save people. I get scared by how easily things change in my life, and how inconstant things are in this world. I would never be able to kill another person, even if my life depended on it. I like to have pretty fingernails and toenails, but I can't really be bothered to paint them. I am terrified of looking at my feet if there might be something wrong with them. I love to shop, but I can't stand it for longer than about an hour, and I hate waiting around in changing rooms. I don't like communal changing rooms/showers and I don't like showing my body to anyone. Whenever someone hurts me, or leaves me, I cut my hair in the small hope that the new Susannah with short hair wouldn't allow that to happen to her. I love poetry. I believe that God has a plan for my life and that everything happens for a reason.

All of this makes me me, and that makes me feel safe. So maybe even though they think of me as different people, I can still be me, and still know what it means to be me.

9/28/06 09:18 pm - Does coffee exist?

Can you imagine a cup of coffee? (Answer: yes).

If I had an actual cup of coffee here, it would be black, it would be hot, it would be a liquid, and it would taste nasty. These are all attributes of the coffee. We can add to this list of attributes that of existence, i.e. coffee exists. However the imagined cup of coffee clearly does not exist. The fact that you have said you can imagine a cup of coffee which does not exist shows that existence is not an attribute of coffee, therefore coffee does not exist. (Having typed coffee a ridiculous number of times for one post, it now looks wrong to me, as if maybe I've been spelling it wrong my entire life.)

This argument springs from a very similar one relating to the existence of God. It runs something like this:

Can you imagine God? (Answer: yes).

God has certain attributes, for example He is all-knowing, all-powerful, etc. We can add to this list of attributes that of existence, i.e. God exists (under the realist definition). However the imagined God clearly does not exist. The fact that you have said you can imagine a God which does not exist shows that existence is not an attribute of God, therefore God does not exist.

To conclude, therefore: God is about as real as coffee. So we come to the real question that philosophers should have been debating for the past few millennia; does coffee exist? Clearly there are many different ideas contained within this one subject;

* What kind of coffee are we talking about here?
* Where was the coffee bought?
* Was it fairly traded?
* Is it black (like my men...) or white?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Seriously, though, I don't like this argument one little bit. In fact I think it's quite silly - I can imagine absolutely anything, and by this argument that makes anything I imagine non-existant. Yet the whole point of the word "imagine" is that you know the thing you're thinking about doesn't exist. It's all silly silly linguistic issues, and Mr. Findlay should go get some coffee. Or a life.

9/23/06 09:01 am - Personal Statement

I have wanted to study Medicine for about three years, ever since I realised how ridiculously overpayed GPs are. With an average salary of about £80,000 a year, and some being paid up to £250,000 a year, I feel that it would be an immensely rewarding and satisfying job. I greatly enjoy earning money, and earning it well, and therefore I feel that I would make a very good doctor as I would constantly be working towards a higher salary. One of the perks of the job of a doctor is, I believe, the fact that you do not need to work a 5 day week. After having done 4 weeks of work experience with various doctors, I have seen first hand how much time off they are able to take, and this has further confirmed for me the fact that I want to study Medicine.

I hasten to add, however, that money and free time is not the only reason why this is my chosen course. The main reason why Medicine has always appealed to me is the great responsiblity afforded to doctors. For example, doctors have access to a great number of drugs (for personal use or for prescription), which I am sure I would put to great use. My past experience with a wide variety of different recreational and medicinal drugs would more than adequately prepare me for this responsibility, as I am by now well-acquainted with all the possible side-effects and adverse consequences, into which I am fully prepared to undertake further research when more drugs become available to me.

It always amazes me how trusting the general public are of doctors. They are willing to put their life in the hands of someone they do not even know; and this thrills me. I am an extremely outgoing person who people are quick to trust, and I use this great blessing wisely. I would find it extremely interesting to experiment with various treatment techniques on my patients, and I am sure that this research would bear great fruit in the world of medicine.

So, why would I make a good doctor? I have a wide range of extra-curricular activites which would make me a perfect candidate for this course. I am very interested in my fellow human beings and their fate, which led me to join the Eugenics club at my school; this provided me with a solid scientific base to my theories, and also meant that I was able to socialise with many very interesting people, and learn to interact successfully with them.

In conclusion, Medicine is definitely the course for me. I would get a lot out of it, and I think I would bring a lot to the profession aswell. :)
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