a blog about an Essex girl living in Swansea, chatting about baking, rowing, other bits and bobs, and some crazy teaching times in India

Friday, 28 February 2014


The title of this blog post is also the title of my final photo album as a student. I also have a couple of pictures of really fat cats and a baby in a walrus costume in there, I'm not sure why. Despite not owning a camera, and sometimes not even a phone that can take half-decent pictures, I have acquired a collection of photos that catalogue my experiences in Swansea.

Really, really cute. But really, really pointless.

This is the time of year that everyone - literally everyone - is starting to reminisce about their time as an undergraduate. Whether it's a comment on Facebook, an article on a website, or even just a conversation with friends, I can tell most people are getting the blues. We're all also getting excited for the 'next chapter', as one of my housemates so accurately put it. 

Where are we going to end up? What will we be doing? Will our degrees matter a couple of years down the line? Will we be married, have kids? Or will we just be an older version of what we consider ourselves to be in the present moment, unchanged by the passing of time, still sitting in a half-clean kitchen with toast crumbs everywhere and mouldy teabags in the cupboard?

What will you do?

I like making life plans in my head. I've done it several times before, and several scenarios have been created and then discarded when I realise that they are, in fact, completely ridiculous or unachievable. The typical stereotype is that girls plan their entire lives out (wedding, house, kids' names etc.) in their heads before it actually happens. Normally by the time they're five years old. I prefer the stereotype for boys: they just want to be a fireman or a monkey or something and not have to plan anything.

Girl: 'I want a big white wedding when I'm older!' / Boy: 'I can eat 'nanas all day!'

It's kind of true. Of course, not everyone fits into this category. No, people aren't as neat and tidy as that, they can't be separated into different compartments that never spill over into each other. We're fluid. I know girls that feel sick at the thought of marriage and guys that would happily settle down tomorrow.

If I turned out to be what I planned for myself in my childhood, I would be a marine biologist (I'm now doing a degree in humanities...), married (to a man named Mark, apparently) with three kids (Kim, Charlie and some other name that I probably now dislike immensely), and have a pink house with a set of plates that had pictures of Barbie on them. I'd also own as many pets as they have on display at Pets at Home and would have eyelashes the length of half my face (my sketches were very lifelike). Yes, I did draw these scenarios out on a weekly basis, labelling each part (Charlie was spelled about three different ways depending on my mood). 

It makes me giggle when I think about the plans I used to have. I like to think I'm much more grown up now, with higher aspirations, more sensible goals, and the desire to have a neutral-coloured house.

In fact, I would still happily settle for a pink one. Hesitant on the Barbie plates, though.

What were your plans for the future? Have they changed? I really do hope so if you're as ridiculous as me.

Big love, xo

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