Students are the sleepless, coffee slurping creatures of the world: up from dusk till dawn writing essays, papers and presentations while lurking on Facebook and Tumblr and laughing hysterically at things that shouldn’t matter. When the light comes up, we stay in bed: we wrote our papers and handed them in, why should we go to class?
This is a stereotype that normally doesn’t concern me, but you’re meeting me at a strange point in my life. I’m nearly graduating, nearly as in, at the end of January. And at the very end of studying this literary bomb that is English, I’m suddenly turning into a clichéd student. While I am writing my very first blog a Word file is opened, showing the signs of the start of a short essay about The Good Soldier (Ford Madox Ford), a story of which I still know very little of. It is alarming that I am now writing this, instead of that.
Things that I am noticing at this moment are that it is in fact 00:07, which means it’s now November 28 and this is the monthly anniversary date of me and my boyfriend’s relationship. Hurray! He’s already in bed, I’m doing this. Also, I have a new email. I’m afraid it’ll be a rather boring one, since it’s in my Official Non-Embarrassing Emailaddress inbox. Do you have one of those? It’s not like you ever look into that inbox because it will contain emails from companies and university, mostly, or from work-related people you barely know so were scared to give your idiotic emailaddress to. (I clicked – holiday advertisement.)
Facebook is showing no signs of being lively. I look at it anyway. In another tab the Easyjet website is opened, wanting me to pay 4 euros so I can pick out my own seats on the flight this Friday. I’m going to Liverpool, very exciting! I’ve never been there but friends are studying there for three months, doing all kind of cool courses and learning about the Beatles. While the last part was a joke, I think there’s no getting around the fact that I’m going to Beatles’ Town, I mean, even the airport is called John Lennon Airport! Really.
I look at the story I’m reading and the letters are blurrying away into the distance. There’s rich people talking about fountains and dolphins and rotten apples. I think I shall like Liverpool, Liverpudlians have funny accents and I’m quite used to rain, really. Also, did I mention the Beatles. WHY isn’t Facebook doing anything?
My word count here says 422, my word count in my essay says 70. This is a problem. I should really switch these numbers around and write this awesomely intelligent, but witty piece on snobs and the technologies in their lives. Why is it that I am at this point using every technology possible, staring at Facebook, staring at my laptop, staring at my phone now and then even, but I seem to be unable to write 400 words about it? I could just hand this in: blogging is a new communicational technology, right?
Chocolate coins. London A-Z mini map. The front paper of my BA thesis. A little donkey toy. Transparent nail polish. The guidelines to a board game. A pencil in the shape of a stick. Anything that is not this screen.
Hi. Welcome to my life! Sometimes I do this, sometimes I do more exciting things. I will not hesitate to tell you every little detail.