A piping hot bubble bath and alone time 🙂
Funnily enough, I think this may be the topic that I’ve actually written most about!
I started my blog a little over a year ago, I had just graduated and was embarrassingly unemployed. Starting a blog felt like a logical thing to do, and it felt a lot better than doing nothing.
I used the blog as a form of therapy, I’d started writing about my situation and how it make me feel. I also wrote about things I baked (once), films I’d watched (once also), but mostly about the food I ate (yay!)
I would love to connect with others who are, or were once in a similar situation. Life is hard but sharing experiences with others makes it feel a whole easier. There are supposed to be thousands of other young graduates out there struggling to find a job, wanting to maybe start a ‘career’ (does this even exist – who knows?), but I felt like the only person I knew who was actually facing this. How it is that everyone I know has a job? A well paying one at that! I hoped blogging would help me reach out and support/learn/grow with other people in my situation.
I’m hoping this year to more successfully integrate blogging into my everyday life. I have really struggled with setting myself realistic goals as to what I wanted to achieve with my blog and how often I would post something!
I welcome anyone who relates to anything I’ve said – I can’t wait to meet you!
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “New.”
I am submitting an old photo in contemplation of something new – great huh?
My contribution is all about the new year, and the new me.
I’m excited about 2015 because I have committed myself to making the most out of this year. The photo I’ve chosen represents me when I was happiest because I was out there and doing things!
My initial motivation for starting a blog was to have something to do while I was applying for jobs post graduation. This meant choosing a topic was kind of hard since I didn’t have a whole lot going on in my life during this extremelycash-less period.
But months on, having failed to commit to blogging and slowly having neglected it – is it time for a rebrand?
I once read something which said that no one is going to care what you say on Twitter unless you’re a celebrity, or something to that effect. I feel the same is for blogging. You can’t get away with writing what you want without having a focus, a theme, for your audience to follow. No one is going to read your random sh*t unless you’re famous, duh.
While I love beauty (skincare, makeup, anything) I don’t know if I could compete with the hordes of highly qualified/committed bloggers and their loyal followers. Yes, I frequently daydream at the sheer thought of receiving beauty freebies (eek) but I don’t have the face nor the money to beauty blog.
I just want to talk about FOOD! My first love – food. Not a day goes past where I don’t photograph my meal, where it don’t plan my week around what nights and where can I eat out next!
I now sneakily start testing what FOOD related blog names I can have *lovehearteyes*
One of the things I love about London, is that there’s never a lack of things to do. Much less free (or fairly cheap) things at that! Notting Hill carnival is a great example of this.
It’s essentially a huge street party celebrating African-Caribbean culture, with lots of music, food, crazy costumes, and basically, tons of alcohol. It’s a two-day festival, the first masquerading as a family-friendly day. Um, not so much.
But if boozy fun in a post-apocalyptic setting is your kind of fun then I highly recommend it. If you’re hoping to catch a glimpse of the mesmerisingly beautiful costumes the carnival so heavily promotes, you’re better off catching the highlights online. For every year I have attended, I have yet to find where the ‘carnival’ part of the festivities are lurking. For that matter, I’ve never managed to get to the same part of the carnival as the year before. It’s that crazy.
However, for all my complaining, I did nonetheless enjoy the carnival as always. The sun was glowing – toasty warm, not sweaty warm – and there was plenty of good food and music, and not to forget, company.
Where everything is just – bleh?
Weather is bleh, my weight is bleh, the general lack of anything in my day is – that’s right – bleh. My day is so uninspiring that I’m lost for direction as what to even write about!
My job search has been put on hold the past few days, having charitably offered my unemployment-induced free time to helping renovate my mum’s place. I like to make other people’s lives easier, so I’m happy to help. However, today I’ve been asked to babysit. Now, it’s not exactly a big favour, but for some reason this has crossed a line in some big way. Having a pre-teen, self-centred shadow is not my idea of kickstarting my weekend.
So as I babysit my younger sibling, I feel my future job and present motivation slipping further and further away.
Why is it so hard to say bye to Facebook, permanently?
Let me set the scene. At 16, a friend of mine, who lived abroad in Germany at the time, decided to create a Facebook account for me – so that we could stay in touch once my holiday ended and I had to go home to England. My first few photos were of us dotted around Leipzig, nothing too exciting. I added those friends of hers that I’d met whilst there, but Facebook offered me little more.
Once I had reached college, my old friends slowly joined Facebook, and new classmates were
collected added. Soon Facebook became the bloodline of my social life. Nothing really happened in real life unless it could be verified on Facebook: through statuses – “Pacha was pretty amazing tbh*”; group or food photos – always group photos to validate that you have billions of friends, and food because your meal needs to be seen by others (I still do this); and lastly, while still through photos – sweaty, drunken clubbing photos – hundreds of the same blurry snaps of my friends and I pulling various poses.
By University these habits were exacerbated, but by this time I begun to hate Facebook. But I hated it, whilst still desperately loving it at the same time. Soon, this developed my compulsive habit to de-activate and consequently re-activate my account after a month’s hibernation. Jealousy, boredom, ex’s, attention-seeking were all valid reasons I had developed provoking me to de-activate my account time again.
And this became how I’d use Facebook. Like clinging on to a toxic relationship. Actually, it’s more like taking drugs* because everyone else is, even though you hate it, you just love what (you think) it means for your social life. Dare I let myself be caught out upon meeting someone new, all Facebook-less – “You don’t have Facebook?”, they’d say, “Oh”, they’d finish – with that killing the conversation. In their mind, you can’t really work out why someone wouldn’t have Facebook.
Today, I have Facebook. I can’t say I really use it, but I still miss it when it’s gone. I don’t feel the need to read about other people’s babies, or to compare my life to other’s Facebook version of it in which every status or photo is to remind me of why their life is better than mine. I hope that I keep updated with those I care for because I make the effort to do so. I’m not saying Facebook can’t be used for this, it most certainly is the biggest reason I still have it to keep in touch with my family abroad – it’s just easier. But I just hope that I’ve grown past having to live through Facebook.
One of the biggest things that bugs me about Facebook – is how much will it affect my employability. Scare stories regarding mainly teachers who have been fired over what can be found on their Facebook have been around a while now. It does make you think twice about whether you should approve that tag – where you have a smile on your face and a beer in your hand. It may be common place, but it takes just one bad impression to stop you getting the job you may have spent hours applying for. Statistics suggest that more and more employers are checking your Facebook – an article on ZDNet suggest 56% are checking your social media – to see whether you’re a suitable candidate.
Secondly, it comes down to privacy control. I know by having a blog I am already exposing my life that little bit more online. I try very carefully not detail anything too personal, that could leave me exposed to internet crime (identity theft for example), but with Facebook, it becomes harder and harder to control that information. Even changing my Facebook name and employing maximum privacy settings hasn’t made me any harder to find on Google. I even go as far as turning location abilities off on my iPhone where possible. Now I have nothing to hide, I am fearfully law abiding, but the internet (and Facebook) has made scared that I feel like maybe I should have something to hide.
So I won’t say goodbye to Facebook forever just yet. It is still useful to me. I will, however, still have those internal conflicts on whether I should de-activate my account again, and I will vigilantly monitor what I put online.
What keeps you from saying goodbye to Facebook?
*Actual status from 2007 – cringe.
*I am definitely not advocating drugs and it is used purely for metaphorical purposes.
What haven’t I been putting off?
I got upset with myself just today on this very topic. Procrastination. Now I don’t procrastinate occasionally, I’m literally one big procrastination. I don’t think that makes sense grammatically, but I think you get my point.
There I was earlier, lying apathetically on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself because I was too tired and sleepy to do anything. What am I thinking about whilst I laze? – How much I hate being lazy and feeling useless. And what do I do about it? – Not much.
Now today was a good day. I’m proud to say that after a good cry, I did get my miserable butt off of that sofa and went for a wheezy run to wake myself up a bit. But usually, I let myself believe that funny cat pictures* take precedence over job applications, exercise, blogging, and anything else that would actually make me a better, I-don’t-feel-sorry-for-myself person.
Well, here’s to tomorrow, let’s hope I can be more productive than the day before.
*I wish it was as purposeful as funny cat pictures, it’s more aimless Googling.
Ever take the time to be a tourist in your own town?
This is a question that barricades me every time I apply for a job. Every company, every role – I question – is this really for me?
I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, about how momentous it is to finish university and decide the next step. I spent my final year at university envious of those around me who had secured their graduate job – who knew exactly what is was that they wanted to do. Now I’m spending my post-graduation disorientated, stressed because I still haven’t figured it out.
I remember being around 9, I’d told my mother absolutely that I wanted to be an air hostess. I knew it meant I could fly all the time (which I loved doing more than anything). I knew it also meant I could travel all over the world – constantly able to see new places, try new foods, and spend my time floating in a pool somewhere exotically hot – it sounded like utter perfection.
It wasn’t until I was little older (let’s say 14) that I realised being an air hostess wouldn’t be economically feasible if I were to have the lifestyle I’d envisioned (which had happened someone along the way to becoming 14 and materialistic – I had expensive taste beyond my means).
Other than this, I can’t remember any other time where I was sure what I wanted to be. I just knew it would be something impressive. With my parents’ constant encouragements (and fierce Asian schooling) – I had learnt that to do well in life, I had to do well in school.
Fast forward eight years, and I had upheld my end of the deal. I’d done well in school. But I wasn’t any closer to doing well in life – because I never made a step moving closer to knowing what that ‘impressive’ would mean for me.
In the last month, I have successfully reached the final stages of interviews for two companies. Not one, but two. And with these two companies, I had been rejected at those very last stages – so close to becoming employed – because they had both felt that I didn’t want the job enough. Excuse me? I’m applying for the job aren’t I? Is that not wanting it enough for you?
That’s what I would say if it were the truth – but they had seen right through me. I didn’t want the job, either of them, despite going through the hours of application and assessment it took to even get to that stage. I had applied for those jobs because I needed a job – not because I wanted it.
I couldn’t make that mistake again. I couldn’t let myself down because of something as trivial as ‘not wanting the job enough’. From my understanding, being a recession graduate (don’t get me started the UK’s economy and it’s inability to do anything other than crumble further) I always knew that getting a job would be hard. But I don’t think I would have ever imagined it to be this hard.
I’ll leave this post with me scouring the internet, undertaking quiz after quiz of ‘career planning’ tests in hopes of becoming enlightened to what occupation I will want enough. I have the feeling I will touch upon this topic again soon – a topic that I think about every morning I wake up to start my job hunt again.