...'the blogger'

The blogger - definition*:

One who is given this label due to the writing of a blog. Often given this label in jest - for the amusement of others.

This is an odd post as I have not - and am not currently - aspiring to be 'the blogger of the group'. It is a label that has befallen me ever since word spread to the masses about this blog of mine (when I say masses, I mean my facebook friends).

Last night, I found myself surrounded by said 'group'. The subject of my blog popped up in conversation as a fan of mine (bahaha) mentioned to the others that I had a blog, and that he was a frequent reader - excellent news. However, the mention of my blog did not spark a discussion on the quality of writing, the role of blogs in our society, or a discussion on how it came about ('my story: from blog-rags to blog-riches'). What did occur was an explosion of blog-related gags and witty comments that flowed for the rest of the night; my drinking game name was blog-f*uck and it wasn't a problem if anyone missed a joke, or an anecdote, as I would blog about it the next day.

I want to note, at this point, that none of this offended me or had me crying in the loos - regretting the day I submitted that first post. It was flattering (to a degree) and yet it made me think about how some people must now perceive me.

This may come as a shock to you all, but many of my 'friends' on facebook and twitter are not actually my friends. I KNOW - it's disturbing (lets just keep calling them friends for now for fear I might offend and because it is possible these 'friends' include you). Yet these 'friends' can still get to my blog, read it, judge it, scorn it, praise it, without knowing anything else about me but what is written here. So to many of you out there, I am the girl who blogs - 'the blogger'. I am simply that girl who is having money troubles; the one who went to the same gym as a dwarf and a dennis the menace lookalike; the busy one. Forever** people will say to me, 'you write a blog don't you?' and the words, 'I read your blog today' will be the sentence that saves me and this other person from that awkward silence that comes in a conversation after the pleasantries are out of the way.

So, I have become the blogger. I suppose there could be worse things.

p.s. They were right. I have blogged about it the next day.

*unofficial definition
**I say forever, my blog could dry up next week, but I'm taking the 'glass is half full' route here

...a bee: part II

Me - in a nutshell:

...a bee

As in, the busy type.

Although there is really no need to aspire with this one - I have aspired, achieved and am already feeling the consequences!

I have always been one to bite off more than I can chew, and third year at university is apparently going to be no different. I can hear my Mum already, 'you just need to prioritise, Georgia'. Yes, yes, mother, that is all well and good, but when you have agreed to be 'on air', broadcasting to the world at 1 o'clock on a wednesday when you know full well that some weeks that is definitely going to clash with hockey matches (for the hockey club that you gave your allegiance to years ago), it is a little hard to 'prioritise'.

Anyway, I have prioritised. I prioritised fitting in all of my commitments over eating/resting/communicating with others (these things waste so much time, don't you think?).

So, here is a little run down of my week for all you aspiring bee's out there:

Monday - The first day of the week is kind to me  - schedule wise - like an old friend, who can see I have fallen on stressful times, and eases me back into things gently. I have a lovely free morning.
Then - things get going. 3 hours of dance, 2 hours of hockey training, some sort of dance/drama audition and finally, home for dinner by about 10pm.

Tuesday - 10 til 5 lectures. What a bitch. Tuesday is in no way kind, like my old friend Monday, therefore I have nothing more to say about it.

Wednesday - An early start. First to the library to catch up on work, then - a radio show at 1, a hockey match all afternoon, and social to follow.

Thursday - write a blog, plan my radio show, tidy up, go to the physio, more uni work. Then at 6pm, BOOM, I have 3 hours of dance rehearsals.

Friday - The worst day. I hate Friday. I hate you - do you hear? Up at 7am for fitness at 8am. At 10am I have lectures....until 5pm. At 5pm, I have to be at hockey training. After this, I should be social and go out to the union, but I have no doubt that at this point I will fold inwards and collapse into a pile of exhausted dust particles (can dust be exhausted? I'm sure after a day like Friday it can be). I will not resume my former shape and 'wholeness' until the following morning.

And finally, The Weekend - A time for relaxation, for catch ups and phone calls to friends. Or, in my case, the days you write your essays, do your reading, fill in your sketch book, go to drama school auditions and play league/cup hockey games. Awesome.

As well as these commitments, I am choreographing a dance for which I need hours of rehearsal time; I am planning to get a job and work; I have to go and see exhibitions and shows to supplement my course and at some point, I need to chill the f out. I don't make my life easy for myself do I? I also feel the need to tweet about it all day long too, which is another time consumer. Not to mention getting my daily fix of facebook. Sometimes, I wish I was a technophobe.

Or a life-aphobe. That would just be the best solution to be honest - to be afraid of living. Then I could just curl up and sleep all day, everyday, without the worry of meeting my goals, or feeling fulfilled or keeping fit. Yeah. That sounds perfect. So then, a life-aphobe it is. Looks like I will be seeing you all never.