Category Archives: The Mayhems of Student Life

The end of Stalking

I was meant to be writing a paper for Uni, unfortunately I am the champion of procrastination. If there were a subject on it, I could most definitely teach it. I logged onto Facebook, hoping for a good distraction; you never know someone could be “no longer listed as being in a relationship,” or they may just be utterly stupid:

However today I had no such luck, the bastards were all happy. So I decided to do some Facebook stalking. I’ve always wondered about stalking. I have committed such felony once, when I saw a band play and decided I absolutely must snag myself the guitarist or my life as I know it would be over. For the whole night my friend K and I followed them around, she had her eyes set on the lead singer. We did eventually get what we came for and I believe my stalking experience to have been a good one.

I always wondered what stalkers thought of Facebook, for one now everyone has become a stalker via Facebook, so the need for stalkers would definitely be at an all time low. Facebook has probably also taken much of the fun out of stalking, because honestly there is not much work left to do. People freely post every fraction of their lives on Facebook so there is no need to dig up any dirt on them.

They can’t even hang out front of people’s houses anymore taking photos as Facebookers willingly take pervey photos of themselves.

I feel a bit sorry for them after all their occupation has become extinct, a bit like my own.

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My Room

Today I decided that my room needs a good cleaning. I decide this every other month when I realise the carpet it no longer visible. Up until that point I quite enjoy living in my organized chaos, although I must hop cautiously from one free spot to another, I think it is improving my balance and gives my room a similar vibe to that of an obstacle course.

It brings back childhood memories of playing Don’t Step On The Floor, but now it is reversed, Try To Step On The Floor.

My mother is not really a fan of this game, I believe it is simply because she is too grown up. I’m not sure she really understands the rules. Whenever she enters she viciously shoves all the things to one side and her face begins to expand and shape into an unrecognisable object. When I try to tell her about her face being a side effect of touching the untouchable her face seems to reach 5 different shades of purple. It is rather impressive and difficult to replicate even by the most talented of artists.

However on this particular day I decide to destroy my obstacle course, it is a bit traumatic, as I have now found the best way to reach the bed, desk and bathroom from my door. I have grown rather accustomed to the big step, little step to the left, big jump straight ahead, shimmy across on a diagonal and then pounce until you fall onto the mattress. It is the first time The Time Warp has been put to good use. Once it is destroyed I will have to come up with an entirely new routine.

But alas all good things must come to an end.

I begin to tidy, I put the clothes away, the random pieces of paper scattered at various corners in the room, the pile of library books, which I had used as hurdles were also put away in my bookshelf. It took my all morning and some of the afternoon.

Once I had finished I sadly looked at my now tidy room, I felt my childhood vision vanishing before my very eyes.

But fortunately for me (and unfortunately for my mum) I refuse to grow up and start throwing various clothes onto the floor. I hop from one to the other, making a path towards the door, careful not to step onto the carpet. For some reason I have a peculiar sense of déjà vu and remember how my room got to that state in the first place.


Filed under The Mayhems of Student Life


I have come to the conclusion that spending my petrol money on boots was probably not one of my smartest ideas.

I realised this about 8:10AM on Monday morning when I was driving my car, Prince, to Uni. Prince and I have had a fairly decent relationship in the past. He always got me from A to B and I always gave him words of encouragement and patted his wheel caringly when he was having trouble getting it up, a hill that is. We have had our ups and downs like any relationship, admittedly I did once accidentally crash his bottom into a lamppost while I was reversing but in my defence the thing practically pounced at me.

And on this particular Monday Prince was out to seek his revenge:

I was driving along hardly noticing the flashing petrol sign when Prince decided to do a few bunny-hops along the road. Startled I peered at the wheel and tried to talk Prince out of whatever he was thinking of doing next. He went back to driving normally, I do have quite a reassuring voice after all. I thought that would be the end of it but then after a few meters he did it again. And these were not like the smooth playful bunny-hops he displayed the first time. Oh no, these were evil calculated bunny-hops. These bunny-hops meant business.

I was just able to roll him to the emergency exit lane before he finally decided he had had enough. He stopped moving all together and then shut down completely. I got out of the car, which was now mocking me. I’m not sure if you have ever been mocked by a car before, my deepest sympathies if you have, for it is severely cruel.

So there I was stuck in the middle of a highway. I locked Prince and started walking towards no particular destination what so ever. In my head I started going through my options, I could call my friend, “I” but then I would get a big fat; I told you so, and a lecture on spending my money more wisely. I was in no mood for a lecture after all; my Prince had just betrayed me. My friend “J” would probably also be of help but his general belief is that car’s do not have feelings and would try to convince me that this was all my fault. I didn’t particularly want to admit to that fact yet. I turned around glaring at Prince. I am going to leave him there, he can stay there and rust for all I care, let’s see how he likes that. But then I remembered a horror movie that was quite similar to this situation. I remember screaming at the girl on the screen when she walked away from her car and right into the arms of a waiting murderer. I decided I really did like myself quite a lot and did not want to be chopped into a million little pieces so I walked back to Prince and sat on his hood.

I decided to call my dad. My dad was always good in such situations; he seemed to conceal all those around him in a veil of calmness, hypnotising our minds to repeatedly cry “it’s going to be okay.” I always wondered what would happen if he used his powers for evil instead of good. He probably could convince us all we were monkeys if he tried hard enough, then we would all be standing around the car picking at each other’s knits and scratching our underarms. But my dad is fortunately a decent guy and instead he was seeping into my brain trying to convince me that this was my fault and not Prince’s. Although my dad was trying his best I doubt our relationship would ever be the same again. That’s it, I thought, from now on all Prince is getting is tough love. No more cooing, no more fussing, I won’t be speaking to him anymore.

A friend of mine then had to pick me up from the highway, like a first class hooker, and drive me to uni while my dad dealt with Prince.

When I got home I spotted Prince in the driveway looking perfectly pleased with himself. Prince: 1, Bella: 1, I guess we were even now.


Filed under The Mayhems of Student Life


I recently found out that I now belong to the hopeless circle of the unemployed.

I got an interesting phone call, “B, I’m not really sure what’s going on but they are closing down the store, they are changing the locks as we speak so, well this is awkward, you won’t need to come in to work tomorrow or ever for that matter.”


I am not a person who works well unemployed. It seems the more I have to do the more I can get done. I need to work an extra shift: Great. The uni assignment is due tomorrow: Perfect I’ll start it at 10pm. You want a girls night out: I want a girls night out. But it appears when there are fewer tasks to do; I turn into what some people might call a lazy good-for-nothing couch potato.

This couldn’t happen. So I handed out resumes everywhere, and when I say everywhere I mean everywhere. It does lead you to meet some interesting people, an old smiling Indian for example who called his son on the phone while I was handing him my resume, “There is a girl here, she also go to F.Uni and study psychology. You want to say hello? Oh I am sorry. Yes. Oh I understand. I will not bother you now. Yes, Goodbye. Love you my son.” He then turned to me still smiling, “He wishes you all the best. If you work here maybe you meet him.” I just smiled and wished him a pleasant day; he would probably give me the job if I swore to marry his son. Other than that the other comment I heard the most was, “Sorry we are not looking for someone at the moment, but we can take your resume and put it on file.”

But I knew what this sentence meant, I had used it and said it in the exact smug way these people are using it now. When they say they keep it on file it means flick through it, laugh at it and then throw it in the bin.

At this point I was in desperate need of some sympathy, so I messaged my friend. There are no jobs available that want a full time uni student. I’m going to have to become a prostitute but they probably wouldn’t even take me because although it does say “excellent customer service skills” on my resume, I think we would have very different ideas about what that actually means. And to top it all off, there is a sale on at my favourite shoe shop, with the most beautiful most essential boots I have ever laid my eyes on. My life is in ruins.

But my “friend” here, decided that sympathy is not what I deserved: “Maybe this is a good thing, maybe this time period will teach you how to see things that you like, and not buy them. This could be healthy.”

Well this just annoyed me. Why should I have to change? So I marched right into that shoe shop and bought those essential boots…with the money I had saved for petrol that week. But who needs a car when I can walk in my beautiful boots?

After telling my friend about my protest against him, after all he should love me for who I am and now who I am is even better because now I have the boots. My response came as follows, “You need help. I hope you don’t find a job for ages. For your own sake!”



Filed under Unemployment