they don't come much more sick than you

in the time that i have been gone i have (not) read hemmingway, wyatt or conrad but i did manage to survive shakespeare, marlowe and eliot.  i also played pokémon, got sick, got better again and then got even sicker than the first time.  i bought myself yet another black lace shirt to console myself because everything is falling to pieeeeeceeeeeees.  yeah.  i'm giving up unhealthy things for lent.  i never pay any attention to lent, but feeling superior to people (as subjective as it is) makes me happy, so instead of divulging in those heavenly veggie burgers i love so much i will take greater satisfaction in stating "no.  no i do not want to order pizza" to my flatmates as they slowly all grow much fatter.  on that note, i remembered that i am nothing but a mere lump of consuming bacteria and i want some porridge.

also i got a relatively good grade on my creative writing piece so woo, apparently i am good at something after all.

maybe it's not my weekend, but it's gonna be my year

i have to read thomas more's utopia for friday.  it would cost me £30 to buy the anthology, so i downloaded a copy online and it's taken me nearly 24 hours to read 21 pages.  i'm the sorriest excuse for a literature student that there ever was.  it's just so... so... mind numbing?  i can't do it.  i've so far read the wiki page and i'm working my way through the sparknotes in an attempt to help me understand who the fuck is speaking.

i'm drinking my new found love of apple squash and lemonade, something that my boyfriend made me last night in an attempt to coax me into sleeping.  it didn't work.  i didn't go out last night because i had my first two lectures from 9-11am today and i wanted to be wide eyed and eager to learn, unlike the zombie-like state that consumed me towards the end of last semester.  howeveeeeer, i didn't account for sixteen of my flatmates coming home wrecked and proceeding to eat takeaway outside my door until 5am whilst i felt like dying.  it's somehow made my illness worse, so i've sent the boyface on a mission to get me night nurse and bottled water so i can sleep in preparation for tomorrow's 9am lecture.

i am well aware i could have just paraphrased all of this to say 'i'm sick, i'm a terrible english student and i have inconsiderate housemates', but typing this helped me procrastinate from utopia even more.

love/hate

i may always leave you, but i'll always run back.  you know i can't live without you and you love it.  three others.  that's how many i tried to replace you with.  and the last one, well, two years... i thought it would last.  but i'm back and i'm stupid and i'm sorry.

i'm such an idiot for thinking that tumblr could replace blogspot.

if you're interested in whatever i've done in the past two years, then here you go, but i doubt that you are and i kinda wanna start afresh.

hey, internet.  i'm rosy parrish and i've had this obsession with foolishly thinking the internet gives a shit about my opinions for the past three years.  youtube, twitter, blogspot, tumblr... the list goes on.  but i'm back, s'up?  i've been doing the usual ritual of finding new things, obsessing over these things and then forgetting said things and now i'm happy because i just got my reading list for next semester and we're doing gatsby, and that's my favourite.