Something vaguely self-centred...

I'm still really deciding what kind of things are going to be posted here. Obviously it's a place for me to cheer and wave my arms in the air when I finish writing projects, and I'll be posting updates on my progress in the '52 Books in 52 Weeks' challenge too. Once I actually start working on them, my responses to the writing challenges will be posted here as well. But what else?

I've been musing over this question, and I'm still not sure what conclusion I've come to, if any. Obviously, anything I post here is going to revolve around writing or reading, but I'm not sure what limits to place on this. The pieces of writing that I've found either pleasing to read or exceptionally well written have come from so many places that I'm not sure if it's useful to place limits on what gets posted here. So I'm thinking that perhaps I'll just post lots of different kinds of writing here, with the one requirement be that I've actually written it as well as I can. On my other blog I'm all too guilty of rambling on for too long, inserting brackets into anywhere that they'll fit, and sometimes even resorting to dot point and one word sentences. Not here.

It does admittedly seem a little bit strange to say that I'm going to try and post well written things here, as you'd think that such a thing would be a more or less universal aim. But increasingly I'm finding that that isn't the case, with me and with others. Often people's blogs seem to dissolve into bad punctuation, oddly formed sentences, and sometimes even some strange variation on the text message vernacular. Um, LOL? All good in context, but that context is not going to be here. In this space, I plan to strive for (and probably frequently fall short of) better writing, no matter what the actual content of the text is.

Since I have to start somewhere, I decided that writing about me was as good a place as any. A little vain perhaps, but let's be honest: most people enjoy writing about themselves. It's still early days in the blog, so I suppose it's not entirely out of place.


Well.


My name is Anna. Not a name I've ever been particularly attached to, but it's the only one that I have. I'm 24 years old, though not too far from 25. All those north of that mark will probably start laughing from this point onwards, but the prospect of reaching this point scares me a little, because it sounds like an age that implies more responsibility and experience than I seem to have accumulated thus far. That's not to say that I haven't had a lot of varied experiences - only that they seem woefully inadequate because despite them all, I'm still chronically (and joyfully) juvenile and ignorant in a great many ways.

Of course, I've seen and done things. A lot of things, in a great many places. It's rare that I find someone my age who has travelled to as many different countries as I have, though I must admit that I definitely don't remember a lot of the destinations - my parents got me started young. By the age of 6 I had already been to more places than most people will ever see in their entire lives. The list only expanded as I got older, and it's still growing - I don't think it's in my nature to ever stop wanting to see different places. On that note, I was one of those kids who always wanted to do everything. I read too much and had far too many hobbies. I was always nothing short of vigorously encouraged on both of these fronts, something that I'm still incredibly grateful for. All said and done, I think that I had the kind of childhood that most people can only dream of.

Of course, life has also been a bit of a bastard in other ways. If I've racked up more good experiences than other people my age, the same can be said of bad ones. By the age of 16 I'd already lost one parent. I finished high school at 17, having a lot of knowledge but very few friends to show for it - for a variety of reasons, I've not always been good at playing nicely with the other children, so to speak. I got married at 23, and had the relationship dissolve messily only few months after my 24th birthday. Perhaps dissolve is the wrong word - I ended it, though not before enduring treatment that I cringe to remember now. The less said about it the better really. I've not always been a happy person. One hand would be insufficient to count the different counsellors I've meandered back and forth from over the years, wondering when one would successfully crack the code of my head. All this said, I don't think life has treated me unfairly. Far from it. I still consider myself one of the luckiest people I know. Most of the bad things were just consequences of my own choices, and I can live with that.

So now here I am. Anna at age 24. I live in Melbourne, Australia - my most beloved city, which I suspect will always be home, no matter how many places I visit. I attend the University of Melbourne, and have done for far, far too long. At the moment I am one year off completing a law degree. Before that it was an arts degree, double majoring in history and english literature, with an honours year devoted to the Black Death and medieval medicine thrown in for good measure. Given this, it's probably unsurprising that I find it hard to comprehend an existence beyond study.

However, despite all the time spent at university, I'm not a particularly fast learner. My attention span is short, and it can take me a long time to comprehend new ideas. I often forget things not long after I've learned them, much to my frustration and embarrassment. It all amuses me quite a lot in some ways. People often expect me to be so ferociously intelligent (I suspect it's an assumption based on the fact that I'm in law school), that I really do wonder how they're going to react when they realise that there really isn't anything particularly exceptional inside my skull. Perhaps this sounds too self deprecating, but I don't think so. I have other intellectual strengths, and I am very proud of them - they're just a little less tangible. My imagination, for example, is a force to be reckoned with.

On the employment front, there is not much of interest to say. Uni has (or should have) taken priority throughout most of my life, so the jobs I've worked haven't been particularly exciting ones. I've worked in a bakery, a pizza shop, a pet shop, and as a tutor. Also for one hour in a call centre - one hour being all it took to convince me that I would never voluntarily return to that place. They have nearly all been customer service jobs, which is probably a little odd given the fact that I am not a people person. For some reason though, I'm good at customer service. Excellent, actually. I just hope to escape it one day.

As previously mentioned, I still have too many hobbies. The most prominent - at the moment, anyway - are writing and knitting, but I also read a lot, bake, grow carnivorous plants, practice calligraphy, swim, dabble in sewing, and draw. As well as about a thousand other things. Heaven knows it probably all detracts from both my studies and my personal life, but I wouldn't change it. I am never, ever bored.

My social life is not a particularly stellar one. I have the usual amount of acquaintances, but few people I would call friends. I've never been much of a people person, for all that I continue to make valiant attempts at it. In all honesty, the opposite sex generally don't seem to take that much interest in me either - though it should be noted that at the time of writing this, there is a certain individual who would say otherwise. Regardless of his wishes though, I am most resolutely single, and expect to stay as such for quite some time.

I suppose all that's left to talk about now is my temperament. It's the trickiest thing to describe though. I'm quiet, except when I'm loud. I'm reclusive, except when I'm overbearing. I'm optimistic, except when I'm depressed. Thankfully, I think that that about covers the more contradictory elements of my personality. I have a sense of humour - I refuse to say a 'good' sense of humour, because I'm not really sure how to define 'good' in this context, but I definitely have one, whether it's good or otherwise. There are very few things in this life that I can't laugh about. Indeed, humour is essentially my coping mechanism, as various poor mortified people have discovered when I loudly poke merry fun about hardships of mine that a normal person simply would not find funny. Still, in my opinion, if you can laugh at something, then you can live through it. And sometimes the only way to salvage any kind of good from a situation is to find something humorous in it, no matter how perverse the humour is.

I'm definitely cynical, though as previously mentioned, I'd call myself an optimist too - I don't view the two as mutually exclusive. I'm very opinionated, though I don't tend to subject other people to my thoughts on controversial topics unless I have been invited to. I like to think that I'm a person with a strong code of ethics. I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever have the misfortune of meeting - I'm still not sure if it's a fault or a virtue, because heaven knows it has served me well over the years. That said, I am open minded too. I like variety, in all things: I don't think that you need to only associate with people who are the same age, subculture, or political leaning as you, nor have I ever understood why anyone would feel that way. I'm generous - though I sometimes regret it afterwards. I probably have a tendency to be self centred, though in all honesty, who doesn't? I am sometimes too paranoid for my own good. I am sometimes a nervous person, though when push comes to shove, I am brave enough to get through it. Of everything though, I think that the thing I like best about myself is that I take pleasure in small things. I enjoy life, am grateful for living it, and on good days I find a small measure of peace in that. It sounds pretentious, but I can't think of any other way to articulate it.

Well, that's me - and that's definitely enough now. And I for one am thoroughly sick of hearing about myself now. I'm off to go and write about someone a little more interesting.