I feel like this year is going to be a crucial time for me. 2008 opened with me desperate to leave St Albans, where I no longer feel at home, depressed and confused. Despite some major money issues this year, I've spent most of it in London, living with Bethan and no matter how unhappy my work situation (or lack thereof) has made me, I love living here. I don't want to leave. Now my mother has started to guilt trip me about my apparent failure to find gainful employment, and is suggesting heavily that she expects me to move back home, broke and unemployable, at the beginning of this year.

For a while I thought she might be right. Sometimes I still do.

This year I can clearly see the two paths I can take. I can fail to find work, to scrape together my rent, and I can go back to my parents and be sad, and broken, and fail. Or, I can not. I can find work. I can do something, anything to avoid that fate. I drunkenly told a friend that I would rather, if it came to it, if I'd exhausted every possible option, throw myself off Tower Bridge rather than admit defeat. Too much pride, you see? And this is very melodramatic, I know, but I need to remind myself to be determined. To try other options. Hell, if I have to, I'll start over somewhere completely new. I'll run away to sea. Or something.

Perhaps my mum is being really clever here, actually, because nothing has ever motivated me more than her casual assumption that I will fail.

So that's resolution number one for 2009. Keep living my life. No one elses. Everything else is just a bonus.

But because "earn enough to pay the rent" is a little bit dull as resolutions go, I have at least one more so far:

I think I'm going to actually start running this year. I need to exercise, and it's cheaper than gym membership. I'll get some cheap running shoes to start with, and a sports bra, and I'll give it a go. It would be nice to be healthier, and my solid little beer belly would worry me less. I'm thin, but I'm not fit. And I think an exercised me might be a happier me, too.

Concentrating is HARD. Despite the poverty and the joblessness, writing out my entire job history endlessly (even though the majority is cut and pasted from other applications I have filled out) is SO BORING I could cry. And then I have to try and explain why I am fantastic which takes quite a long time, and a lot of rewriting.

This is going slowly. Although later on after my cinema trip I intend to stay up ALL NIGHT if need be to finish the next couple of applications. Although experience has taught me to wait until the morning to proofread and send because 3am does terrible things to my typing.

But I'm listening to Led Zep, which was always what I listened to whilst doing my homework as a kid, on my dad's old records or the tapes he made me from those records. I associate it with knuckling down to something and it does sort of help, weirdly enough.

I also have a Cadbury Apricot Crumble Crunch bar to eat in the cinema later. Which is exciting me because I think it is new and I haven't eaten it before and it intrigues me.

Yes.

Oh, and I'm reading Neverwhere at the moment, which is actually my first time reading a Neil Gaiman novel. Yep, that's right. I love his short stories, and enjoyed the Sandman comics I managed to get my mitts on, but I have never read his novels (I'm not counting Good Omens here, which I have read LOTS). So far I'm... not masively impressed. It's all silly names and London Underground gags and whilst that is all pretty good fun, especially seeing as I live in London, it seems to lack... depth? I have received conflicting advice too, with one person saying this is their FAVOURITE Gaiman novel and others pale in comparison, especially American Gods, which is a bit rubbish towards the end, and another person saying that this is their least favourite and that American Gods is amazing.

So I thought I'd ask you lot...

Poll #1335640 Neil Gaiman Novels
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 7

Which is your favourite Neil Gaiman novel?

Which Neil Gaiman novel is your least favourite?

Is Neil Gaiman...

Gargh. This week has been very unproductive, mostly because I spent last week cat-sitting in St A while my parents were on holiday (thus doing nothing) and now I'm in London again where I keep filling my evenings with stuff, but wasting my days languishing in the heat of my oven-like flat and watching Battlestar Gallactica for the first time.

I need:
-to get a job
-to do some housework

I want:
-to finish watching season 2 of BSG and Dexter
-to get a job without having to get up and leave the house.

Bah.

Instead I shall ignore my complete lack of motivation and tell you that I saw Murder By Death at the Borderline Tuesday night and they were amazing... If I could earn a living getting horrible (and yet weirdly liberating-ly) sweaty while watching equally sweating men writhe about singing songs about whisky and drinking yourself to death and then back to life again... I would be happy.

Other things that make me happy are:
-Dr Horrible's Sing-a-Long Blog (yay Joss!)
-my current read, Georgette Heyer's Arabella. It's ace, in a snarky Regency way.

What's not amusing me is the fact that I am waiting to hear about this job I freelanced at... They're interviewing some people internally and I should find out this week but I haven't heard anything yet and now I'm terrified they wont hire me.

Also, I need to do some washing but I only ever remember this fact when Bethan has just put a load on. I suck real bad.

My DAB signal is terrible in the flat here. Bethnal green is rubbish for reception, I have decided. We have combated this on the TV by getting Sky, but I miss my DAB! I can only get a few channels here, including Planet Rock, Virgin Xtreme and Birdsong. Hah! Not good enough! I miss Arrowrock, and Magic! I might have to look into getting a booster. I'm not sure how they work but anything that will improve my signal is desperately needed.

I spent this evening mostly practising my shorthand (at which I am still fairly terrible) and doing one of those blackhead remover nose strip thingies, which was totally gross and absolutely satisfying. Take THAT pores!

What else? I'm on work experience at the moment which I'm enjoying so far. OH and how much do I love that Neighbours is on at seven on Five Life? I teared up at that advert with Harold welcoming me back to Ramsey Street... You know, the one where he laments that us students grew up and had to do grown up things at half five, only now we can watch after our tea at seven! I'd link to it but a quick google reveals nothing...

Erm, that's pretty much it. Time for bed now, I feel. My recent obsession with CSI:NY has taken me into season four, which I'm trying to catch up with at the moment... but it's eating up all my spare time! I'm obsessed! I have loads of stuff to do for college so I'm trying to be really strict with myself at the moment but it's not easy, by any means. Aargh.

I have LJ tourettes, this post is rubbish.

Oh crap, and my paid account expired!

I haven't been on livejournal in absolutely ages, which is really sad because I have had loads of stuff to write about! My life has been well and truly getting in the way. Although I love having more stuff to do, it's been getting quite tiring... I could really do with a weekend of doing nothing to catch up on all the tidying and laundry and reading and other things I want to get done.

I should be doing something right now, actually. I have one article to research and write, a shorthand homework to do for the Hot Shorthand Tutor and I have a begging letter to write for work experience (and the necessary research to do for that so I can sound like I've been reading their magazines for years rather than only heard of them today). Instead I am watching episodes of CSI:NY on my laptop. Oops.

But CSI:NY is so good! Not as geeky as Vegas (I miss the dorky scientists of Grissom's lab) but with the latest episodes of the original CSI series showing distinct signs of stagnation (even William Peterson is looking decidedly mouldy), I have been seeking refuge in the enthusiasm of the early episodes of the baby of the franchise. The less said about Miami the better, in my opinion.

CSI:NY has all the classic elements that made Vegas so great; brilliant cast, interesting characters, clever scripts, bizarre cases and an exciting soundtrack. All infused with a dark, moody, grimy, street-wise, New York feel.

Err, but I am a geek. So what I really, really watch it for is the slow-burn relationship between Danny and Lindsay. Actually the cutest canon romance of any of the CSIs, and the most watchable, and believable. I just watched "Stuck on You" which really showed up the chemistry between those two characters, in a far less ham-fisted way than any of Vegas's Sara/Grissom "moments".

Oh, and I watch for Gary Sinise. I love Gary Sinise. Lieutenant Dan can captain my shrimp boat anyday.

That was a bit odd. None of the things I wanted to write about were CSI related... Oh well. Time for another episode!

Ugh, do you ever have those weeks where the universe seems to be ganging up on you and you just want to hide under the duvet until it goes away?

Yeah, of course you do. Who doesn't? Well, this week is my week:

- I started my new short journalism course thing and it's a bit slow so far. We're only two days in but I failed spectacularly at an impromptu we-need-your-classroom-for-an-exam-so-go-away excercise in going out onto the street to find a news story. I cannot find news. I am hardwired to find the world boring and mundane, apparently. I found a good feature but sadly since we were looking for news, I failed. And then felt really bad about it and started doubting whether I'll really be any good as a journalist at all. Except, of course, I don't WANT to be a news reporter. Never have. Hmm. Hopefully I'll do better when it comes to the feature writing section of the course.

- I'm moving house this weekend and I hate packing more than anything else in the world. It never fails to make me ridiculously depressed and therefore make all other things seem so terrible, far out of proportion with the very small amounts of terrible that they actually are. My god that sentence made no sense.

- My Creative Zen mp3 player died on me. I think the battery's gone, most likely. Very upsetting- see above. I think I'll try and send it off to the manufacturer to be fixed...

- I have just had two periods in a row thanks to being sick two weeks ago and fucking up my pill-taking and biological cycle or whatever. Seems to be ending now, but really. A two week period is Not Fun.

- I'm stressing about asking my Dad for money. Which I shouldn't, really, because he asked me to tell him how much certain things were going to cost me so he could give me the money for them, but I hate asking for money and it's driving me crazy.

- I'm commutuing to London this week. This is expensive and uncomfortable and boring since my mp3 player died, and makes me very tired and cranky.

- I'm trying to sort out work experience at a magazine but I'm stressing constantly that I'm not cool enough or I don't know enough about music or fashion or art or cinema or politics to work at any of the ones I'm applying for. Why oh why do I have to be the person who knows a little bit about everything but a lot about nothing? Why am I such a stupid fucking idiot? Why am I letting myself get this stressed out?

At least the following things are good things:

- I am moving out, which brings, yes, more stress but is also a positive step towards... uh... not living here any more.

- I am listening to the new Hot Chip album in demo form and it sounds brilliant. I am also doing the same with the new Cat Power and it too is fantastic.

- I'm struggling with a third, here. I have Cadbury's Caramel in bar form and season two of Buffy on DVD in my room for later on, when I can't resist the urge to hide under the duvet any longer.

I got to clean the bathrooms yesterday. I rather like cleaning bathrooms. We have Clit Bang that I get to spray on things and then go 'and with just one wipe, the limescale has vanished!' like I'm one of those crazy TV adverts. Plus I like the little tablets that fizz when you drop them in the toilet. For some reason, a sparkling bathroom is extremely satisfying.

I'm doing my best to make sure that I help my Mum out with the housework whilst I'm here, since the added burden of my Dad coming home means there's more mess than ever (he is, like all the men in my family, incapable of cleaning up after himself). Since I have been entirely unsuccessful on the job front so far, I'm trying not to stress unduly (what are overdrafts for?) hoping that I can get a job when I go back to London in August and that my parents can loan me the rent money until my student loan comes through. In the mean time then, I'm settling into a nice routine of morning televsion and household chores.

I discovered Stargate is still showing on Sky at 10am, so I can start my day with slashy, sci-fi goodness! Mind you, they're showing the Jonas season at the moment, so I'm Daniel deprived, except that he was in todays episode, appearing to Teal'c to help him not go crazy/die. So slashy, so wrong, so Space Whores. In fact, Teal'c and Jonas were being pretty slashy too! Bless SG-1, you can pair 'em any way you want.

I've almost finished my first knitting project, my green scarf. This is very exciting, as it means the bootee knitting can begin in earnest. In fact, I'm going to go get my knitting out right now...

The ambiguous and elsuive 'they' always say that life is ups and downs. Not very helpful, but entirely true. What's weird is when, condensed over a week, you start feeling a bit like a yo-yo.

My dad got home from China for good (sort of) last Thursday, which is a good thing. We're making him fix the house and drive us places and cook dinners and stuff like that. It's all good.

On the other hand, my cat got ill. I'm talking really, really ill. Try £600 worth of vet bills ill. Cassie, my cat since I was about five years old, had to go into the vets for three nights whilst they ran every test under the sun to try and figure out what was wrong, to no avail. They're stumped, we're stumped, she's actualyl looking better. She's at home now and so far so not dead, but we're still holding our breath around here. People without pets will not understand, but who cares about them, joyless weirdos.

So it's been a bit strained around here for a little while, but I think things are starting to settle down again, thankfully.

The signing of contracts on my new flat in Brockley went ahead as planned yesterday, which was good. My soon-to-be-again flatmates were two hours late, however, and I was left sitting in Greenwich park by myself (actually I wasn't entirely by myself. A swiss bun was keeping me company). On my way home, I got caught in the rain in Covent Garden, which was actually veru refreshing, since I was only wearing light cotton stuff that dried nicely onthe train from Kings Cross. The flat is still gorgeous by the way, although some of the more interesting decorational features my landlord promised to remove, such as the lamp that doesn't light anything up and the shower head that squirts water at the ceiling and will not be convinced to aim elsewhere. Hmm. I demand everyone in the vague vicinity of London visit me once I move in, by the way. I wish to show off my shiny kitchen.

I am still jobless, St Albans having employment opportunities limited to cold calling (oh please God no, not again) and street busking. My brother has opted for the latter. I however have resorted to babysitting for my Ma's best friend who has a lovely three year old daughter who persists in stroking my hair and inducing me to play Animal Sounds Bingo. It's a lot more fun than it sounds, consisting of a machine that spits out bizzarre noises that I'm meant to be able to distinguish and match to my little card. There were three different birds on one of them, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out which chirp was which. She's to impatient to listen to all the noises, so I always win. I've started pretending not to occasionally, and have taught her to whoop triumphantly on winning. Like this: 'woohoo!' See? She's invited me to her fourth birthday party soon as well, and I'm very excited. I went to her second, and spent the afternoon playing in a sand pit with an anonymous baby. Apparently this time they're hiring a hall, and there'll be about five kids per adult, hyped up on jelly and ice cream playing party games. For some reason, unknown to me, I am suprisingly good with kids. They seem to like me. Even so, I am going to be eviscerated.

This all leaves me plenty of time for knitting. I borrowed some books from the city library, my favourite being one called Knitting for Cherished Babies, which confused Alice and I. Cherished babies, as opposed to Knitting for Detested Babies, or Unloved Babies, I suppose. The woman issuing my books just looked at me funny. Hopefully in the next couple of weeks I shall embark upon a pair of bootees for my cousin's baby (due on my birthday!) in a nice, neutral green. I'm sure the first one will go horribly wrong, but I shall persevere! My knitting has considerably improved since I started again about a month ago. I haven't done any knitting in ages, but I think it's coming back to me now. We'll see!