Cute? Me?

So recently I was talking with a pair of my friends in a chatroom. I've never met these guys personally, we've only chatted in text based rooms (for the most part, I have had Skype and Pokemon phone calls with both) so they've never seen my face. So we got onto the topic of looking a lot like our siblings and one shared a photo of them with their brother. In return, I shared one of my brother and I.

And this person complimented me. Not like, 'Oh you look lovely' but called me beautiful and just described me as genuinely cute. Bemused at the reaction, I shared the rest of the post that photo was from and got called sexy in one of the photos. At this point the other person in the chat joined in, adding her voice to the chorus of me being pretty.

Well, firstly I cannot describe how good it feels to be described as pretty and beautiful and all those things. I don't wear makeup either and the photos were taken by my brother so I can't excuse away the compliments as being based on that or because the photographer was good. They genuinely liked me.

It's made me realise that every compliment I've gotten, mostly from my parents, has always either been about my face- my eyes are gorgeous, my hair looks great- or said with a qualifier. I would be a very pretty girl, if I lost some weight. You just need to lose some weight and you'll be a very pretty girl. Lose a couple of kilos and you'll look lovely.

Which is...not great for confidence. I want to lose weight but I also want to eat chocolate and at the moment that's causing a conflict where I'm not actually losing weight. It's tiring monitoring every bite you eat and often I cannot be bothered. So I've just been living with the idea that I'm not really pretty, I just exist.

And this chat has rocked my world with the idea that that might not be true.

Magic Week

Well it has been. So far my week has been BRILLIANT and my plans for the rest of it are only going to make it much better.

Sunday I met my favourite actor, Benedict Cumberbatch. The day was amazing (I did a write up of it here which I'm not going to copy and paste because it's 2000 words) and I met an awesome person, Anna, who kept me company for most of the day. It was lovely and worth it and he's so so sweet.

Monday was a bit meh because I had work but I picked up an extra shift at work which I desperately need. And I got to see some of the people I work with that I've not seen in ages because of the shifts I've been working which was nice.

Then came my birthday, today. About midnight people on tumblr started to wish me a Happy Birthday and that write up I did started to collect loads of notes. The people in chat wished me a Happy Birthday too, complete with a sing along and virtual cake. Which was incredibly sweet of them. Then I checked my email, at 2am, as I was going to bed.

I had my offer letter for exchange.

I am nominated to Exeter!

I'M SO HAPPY.

Plus tomorrow I go to the Easter show and Friday I have my birthday party.

Like I said, this is a magic week.

My Library

Sometimes I feel like I run a library. I've no problem leading books to people, books are meant to be read and I have quite a few. Chances are I won't want to read whatever book is borrowed before they return it and even then, it's not a big deal. I can wait. Not to mention my brother and I act as if our books are interchangeable- so I have a lot of his in my room and he has a load of mine in his.

Only I never write down who has what. So if they don't return it, I'm left in the position where I'm certain I own a specific book but I can't find it and nor can I remember who the hell has it. And with my brother sometimes taking books and not telling me, it can make tracking down a certain book hard.

Right now, I'm sure two people have two Discworld books of mine- a friend at work has Raising Steam and my best friend has Guards Guards (which I don't expect to see for ages as he's a slow reader). But there's a third book missing- First Test, which is the first book in the Protector of the Small series by Tamora Pierce. I know my brother doesn't have it because he doesn't read the Tortall series, excepting those of the Beka series. Which I still have.

And recently I decided to reread the Protector of the Small series. After tearing my room apart, I couldn't find the first book and skipped it. Which annoyed the hell out of me because I love these series and I want to have the complete collection and reread in the right order. I know I own this book but I really can't find it and I'm beginning to think someone borrowed it and never returned it. So I'm getting to the stage where I'm thinking of buying a new book and if it turns up, I'll donate it or something.

I'm just pissed my memory is so poor that I can't ask whoever has it if they still have it because I can't remember who they are. I don't care if it's been lost, I just want to be certain about where it is.

I need to write things down...

Too Much Information?

Or not enough?

So on the way home from Uni yesterday, my parents and I were discussing me going overseas and what would be needed, etc. Suddenly Mum starts talking well, weirdly. Mentioning there's something else to discuss but we'll have to wait until we're home and away from Dad, who doesn't want to hear this. 

Just so you know, my family has the weirdest approach to so called 'women's issues' I've never seen. I was raised to never so much as mention 'that time of the month' in front of my brother and Dad because they'll get embarrassed and they don't wanna know. I'm learning it's ridiculous, this kind of approach but it's still hard for me to not be embarrassed at the mere thought of the stupid thing. Hell, I can barely name it without feeling icky. So. Not the best approach.

But also, apparently, off topic. I thought this was what Mum was talking about and was really confused because I wasn't aware that it would be an issue? I can deal with it as easily there as I can here? But after a few minutes of confused conversation, Dad finally snapped and told Mum to just come out with it because he's not that stupid. 

And Mum wants me to consider going on the pill. Which is...yeah, okay might be an idea. Idk what the pill does for people and if it'll be any use with the ever forgetful me but sure? I'll consider it. 

Just, there were two reasons Mum wants me to consider it. One being the benefits and the other being it would be, and I quote, "protection" for me "in case something happened". 

And it's times like this that I wish I could talk to my parents about my feelings regarding sex. I replied instantly that I had no intention of spending the night in anybody's bed to which I was told "things happen". If I could talk to them about this, they would know the exact nature of my feelings about the entire thing and that really, I'm very much not interested. But instead I can't so I have to put up with being told that what I think (and feel really) is invalid in the face of their experience.

And I managed to not use the word sex in that entire paragraph. Go me?   

More Interview Stuff

So I had my interview for exchange today.

It was very relaxed. Like, I dressed up a bit for it because interview but I really shouldn't have bothered. Though I'm sure it helped form a good opinion. But mostly it was a quick chat, held over my paperwork.

And I think I got in.

Well, more than think, at one point I noticed the way she was talking was as if I was in. So I asked if I was, in fact, accepted. And she said yes, I have been accepted to my university's exchange program because no flags in my paperwork, nothing beyond a missed signature from my faculty. Which is not a guarantee I'll go on exchange, I still have to be accepted at a host university. But it means they'll be trying to get me to one of those and they want me to go overseas.

It's a step. A big step.

If everything goes to plan, in six months or so, I could be living in England. It hasn't really sunk in.

I wonder when it will.

International Exchange

I have an interview for International Exchange.

Oh gosh, I've got an interview.

I'm going to go freak out over there, don't mind me.

Day Six

It's about halfway through the time my parents are away for and I'm not sure if I miss them or want them to stay away longer.

On the one hand, I'm really enjoying having the house to myself (practically). I can get up when I want or need to, I can do what I want without having to plan around the possibility they'll need or want me to do something. I can get things done in my own time, without worrying they'll think I'm taking too long and do it themselves while grumbling at me.

But on the other hand, it's exhausting being responsible. I don't know if I'm doing things right, or if I'm forgetting to do anything. My brother is a step away from useless, seemingly capable only of remembering to feed himself and occasionally watch the dog. I'm running the house while trying to also get myself back into the swing of uni and I've no idea if I'm letting things slide through the cracks.

I also think I'm lonely. The house is dead quiet and my brother is always in his room. The dog is only good for company half the time and there's only so much my music can do to chase away the quietness. It's nothing like my usual nights, spent sitting beside a sleeping Dad who, while asleep, is still actually there.

I'll handle it. I've not much of a choice really.

(And in other news, I get to see Benedict Cumberbatch in April and maybe (if they don't sell out) get a photograph with him!!!! So excited.)