The Graduate

*Insert intro from Simon & Garfunkel's 'Mrs. Robinson'*

I had every intention of writing about this the week it actually happened, but as luck would have it, certain family members took their sweet time in sending me the photos from the day.

All in all it was an interesting day for both myself and one of the administrators at the ceremony who collapsed right as I was about to walk onto the stage. 

 

Now, my mother and aunt were sitting approximately 10 feet above all the action and couldn't see this moment unfolding. Needless to say they thought it was me who had collapsed and my mother's instincts kicked in and she ran down the stairs, meanwhile Mrs. Admin had been dragged (literally) over to a chair and the graduation proceedings continued. In her haste and high heels on the stairs, my mother actually missed me actually graduate entirely. Well done Mum!

I can honestly say that it still hasn't sunk in that I have my degree - despite the fact that there's quite a fancy looking piece of paper sitting in my room somewhere. While I realise that there are so many positives about finishing my BA, but at the moment I'm really only thinking that I can no longer go into JRUL with an air of false importance one gets when they are a student. 

For everyone that made any sort of impact - positive and even negative - thank you, your words, actions, and non-actions have helped me get this far without too many screw-ups.

Bloggy Naysaying

I will be the first to admit that the idea of blogging can be construed as a bit of an ego trip for some people. My mother has been doing this for a number of years and from the beginning I thought two things (1) I kind of resent having a mother who knows how to use, and likes using technology and (2) I find her style a bit too personal and revealing for my liking. I think the worst thing is when she's mentioned myself or my siblings in a post it can become a bit 'did you really have to mention me'.* In all I have just bucked up and accepted that she has an active online presence ranging from her Facebook profile to her two (yep, two!) blogs she regularly updates.

However recently a third revelation has become apparent: (3) I have become a hypocrite for laughing at her blogs while writing my own.

While some people write about their innermost thoughts and fears, that is not my style. I find that a bit weird. I think the way in which I have commented on things that have occurred in my life over the last couple of months has been decidedly less 'I feel (insert relevant emotion)' and more 'this is the shit that went down' about the situation at hand. I realise that it is almost impossible to not evoke emotion into a personal piece of writing such as this, but I make an effort to leave my private emotions 'at home'. After all this started as a bit of fun to share some music, some tales of university life, and the odd interesting photograph.

I know that there are people out there that laugh at the mere thought of my doing this.  I have narrowed them down to a two types: 

(1) Those that read my blog once and laughed and just thought it was stupid, and (2) Those that read every post (or most of them) and laugh, think it's stupid, but continue to read 

I have no problem with either one. I think it's a perfectly reasonable thing to laugh at what someone writes and then decide that it's 'stupid'. I encourage people to have opinions and even if it's not a great one 'stupid' is an opinion. Three months ago I might have even been with the Type 1 group, laughing at the ridiculous stuff that people posted about their lives on the internet like the best of them. Although while I have always drawn the line at verbalizing any nastiness, it is in the nature of the internet for people to hide in their anonymity and say whatever the hell they want to. That is probably one of biggest freedoms the internet gives us, no matter how dangerous it can be sometimes. And so while I know that the Type 1 exists, s/he and I have no issue. At least not until one of them verbalizes it to my face, which I've accepted will probably happen sooner or later.

Now to the Type 2. I just find it amusing. If you find my writing 'stupid' or uncalled for in anyway, why do you still read it? If it's to gather fuel for an eventual attack then I will suggest now that you might need to speak to a therapist now before it gets to that stage, otherwise why don't you put down the mouse for a minute and either embrace the fact that you're secretly enjoying reading it or quietly transform yourself into the near-harmless Type 1 and just stop reading.

The fact is I write about stuff that a lot of my University of Manchester counterparts have knowledge of or are thinking about themselves. In the words of a friend: 'Rosie, you write about the library, that's funny'. 

I hope it is.

I had one small aim when I started writing and that was to not give up and I haven't so far - so that's a minor success. So if you want to piss on that, do so, just keep it to yourself in your heads. I'm not asking you to be opinion-less, just be considerate of others when forming them.

If you're not enjoying what I'm writing, don't read it. It really is as simple as that. 

*So I mentioned her here. I'm not above retaliation. 

Such is Life

Where I would like to be sitting: 

The park outside my window

Instead I enjoy this view:

Such is Life.

An Open Letter to JRUL

Dear John Rylands University Library, 

I think that it is about time that you and I had a heart-to-heart about our relationship.  

You cause me stress and make me ill. I sit all day from 9am within your walls working hard while I have cold upon cold. I persevere through this though to maintain our slowly deteriorating relationship and so that I can write my dissertation. But you annoy the crap out of me.  You change your opening hours to the extent that I just do not know what is going on anymore: is it 11am or midday on a Sunday? 9 or 9:30am on a Saturday? Make up your mind. Soon I will not be able to afford all these coffees I’ve been buying around the corner I wait an hour for your doors to open. You change the rules whenever you want don’t you? Why can’t I eat on the ground floor like I used to? I don’t want to eat my lunch on Blue 4 with all the studenty ruckus that’s going on. If I want a quick chat with someone – what’s the harm in doing it near the exit? It doesn’t hurt anyone. These changes are slowly picking away at what is left of my patience. You know that students don’t respond well to change. So why?

I know that I have my own flaws. I know that it was my fault for breaking my student card in the self check-out machine (for taking out too many books jokes a friend). I’m not above admitting that once I hid a book on the shelf so that someone else wouldn’t find it. I was a scared first year who felt like she had a lot to prove. But in doing so I did well on that essay – you helped me do that. I admit to snacking while on the computer. But it was just a KitKat, I promise that the crumbs stayed away from the keyboard. I’m not insisting that I’m perfect. I know I’m not. But JRUL, I’ve paid my fines. I sit quietly not disturbing anyone else. I wait in line for the computers. I don’t jam the printer. I use my phone in the appropriate phone designated areas. Come on it’s been three years now! I think I deserve a little respect. 

You seem to take some sort of pleasure out of this don’t you? I will be arriving at the doors  tomorrow at midday to discuss these issues I have brought to light. If you’re open at 11 then you can consider this relationship terminated. Time waster.

Faithfully yours,

Rosie