Reasons to be cheerless

Well! Well, I'm sick of hinting obliquely at vague 'drama' and not actually telling you, dear reader, what's got me in such a huff. If you prefer positive Anna, it's very possible that this post won't tickle your happy button; however in the interest of maintaining emotional equilibrium (i.e. not being a total morbid bitch), I'll intersperse my whinging with pictures like this:

Non-threatening businessman LIKES this!

On monday, my group was supposed to gather for a uni project and I was the only poor sod who turned up. As I have already said, this irritated me. Only mildly, but enough.

Thanks, The Elderly!

Then there was Tuesday, when I seriously called into question my ability to be a writer. I really started doubting whether I have the talent or skill to  do it.
I think that's the day we had an Emergency House Meeting about the cleaning as well (fun!). Furthermore, my friend from our university course gave me the breakdown of the social dynamics in our university course and made me hate myself a little more.

That's the spirit!

On Wednesday, our project was due in. I think we all felt that we could have done a lot better, but I in particular was freaking out because we were supposed to submit a work log along with it - which I hadn't done.

I think this was also the day I received some very distressing news about the health of a family member / friend / much-loved person. I feel a bit flippant mentioning this among all my petty problems, but there is no good place for news like this.

That evening I went to my last refuge of sanity and accidentally created drama there too. You know how Pandora caused something of a kerfuffle by unlocking that legendary box? Yeah, it turns out you can cause just as much by locking a door absentmindedly.

You go, girl!

On Thursday I had a day off uni and came down with a shitty cold. I spent most of the day huddled up in my room with the usual symptoms - leaky nose, sore throat, coughs and sneezes - and had to show people around my room because my landlord (who I'd been trying to contact for about a week) has decided we're all moving out next year. So there's househunting to 'look forward to' as well.

Who's awesome? YOU'RE awesome.

Friday actually hasn't been too bad. Some of the damage from Tuesday and Wednesday was undone, and I've potentially got some people to move in with next year - people I actually know in advance, which makes a nice change after three years of randoms. I was supposed to see Gav, but there was an organisational misunderstanding, and that fell through. We haven't seen each other for a week and I miss him.

Even WOMEN can put their thumbs up now! I know, crazy, right?

Of course, nobody does proper drama like The Internet. The forum I moderate has been a minefield, with international politics causing tension, and a member who was voluntarily banned (after some friction with yours truly) coming back with a secret identity (and causing friction with yours truly). Honestly, at this point I am willing to accept the hypothesis that I am the cause of it all, and shouldn't be allowed around people.

Yeah, fuck you, The Man!

This guy is my hero now. Look how happy he is! I bet HE isn't considering becoming a recluse just to preserve some semblance of sanity. And if there's any doubt lingering your mind as to how moronic some people can be, read the comments to this blog post that unfortunately became the first Google result for 'facebook log in' yesterday, drawing the attention and rage of hundreds of confused idiots. Read the comments, they're comedy gold!

And on that note I'll leave you. I heartily promise that my next post will contain only happiness and light.

Anna the Drag Queen

As I was wandering in and out of all the clothes shops in town today, desperately searching for a white jumper like the one I made up two years ago, I was reminded of something I learned about in Sociology lessons in high school.

Judith Butler wrote about Gender Performativity, which is the idea that acting, dressing, walking in a female way, so as to appear as female as possible, is a drag act - regardless of the biological sex of the person doing it. She knows the score, man, I'm telling you. As I wandered fearfully through aisles of puffy dresses and stupid shoes, I whispered silent thanks to Ms Butler for explaining this to me.

Y'see, it's not inborn knowledge. Girls don't automatically know how to apply eyeliner, or what to wear to a 'soirée', or whether red works with purple. They don't wake up one day in a tasteful sunglow-gold haze, sit bolt upright, and say "My gosh, I've been wearing dresses with flats all these years!"

So for my entire life, I've been making it up as I go along, desperately hoping that I won't get caught out. I throw on something that probably might look ok I guess, and venture outside into the hostile, judging gaze of those who knows more about fashion than me - i.e. everyone. I fear being accosted by Gok Wan or Trinny and Susannah; those supremely confident beings who seem to know exactly what I should wear despite not knowing who I am or what I like. Maybe they could help me. Maybe they could tell me what kind of occassion those horrible puffy dresses are actually for, and it would all fall into place, and I'd cry and we'd buy me a tangerine clutch to celebrate.

But until the day comes when I pledge my undying allegiance to Red magazine, if indeed the day ever comes, I'll continue to wear stuff I find in charity shops.

My most unfashionable fashion choices:

• a long denim jacket with stars and furry bits on. I bought it because it matches the jeans I got given by a friend and fell in love with. The jeans have since fallen apart, but the jacket lives on!
• man-shirts! I love man-shirts. I have one of my brother's that he gave me, and one of my dad's that he... hasn't noticed is gone.
• a massive black rucksack. It's technically for a laptop, but when most girls don't have room for their mobile phone in those tiny pink bags of theirs, I'm pulling hatstands and stuff out of mine.
• my nails are currently bitten raw, with chipped black nail varnish. Stylish!
• big stompy shoes. They're so worn down that they squeak on every surface known to man, even carpet somehow, so it's time I found some almost but not quite exactly the same to replace them.

Mistakes even I haven't made:


In other news, I'm retiring my Creative Splurges blog. I won't delete it, but I won't be adding to it any more either - instead, feel free to check out my deviantART page!