Unidentified
Describe your personality.
That is one of the questions I always find so hard to answer. I’ve realized that it’s hard for me to describe my personality because I
don’t have one. I don’t have a personality – how
cool is that?
For one thing, I’m not a fun person. My humor is bad and I’m more or less boring. I’m awfully shy around people, and the only interesting topics I can be enthusiastic about are different fandoms and the beautiful world of weirdness. I don’t go out a lot, and when I do I prefer doing it
alone – in
bookstores. I have the personality of a
brick.
Unlike other people, especially those from my school, I don’t have a lot of friends who I hang out with after surviving midterms or something. I’m friends with the library; I’m friends with reading. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop myself from not being diligent. While others are taking everything lightly on their hands, I’m overthinking every single issue like my life depended on it. It’s really frustrating. Sometimes I just want to take things slow and chill a bit, but a few minutes on it, I immediately start to get bothered by my procrastination. When I take things less seriously than how I used to, I have this feeling that I’m betraying someone, this anxiety about something invisible. I always try to push myself too far because, as I’ve realized through the course of time, it’s the only way I can prove to myself that I’m worthy. Worthy of what? I have no idea.
I can’t afford to not be diligent and hard working because those are the only areas where I excel. I’m always that smart kid, that assiduous student who tries to do things perfectly. I can’t be anyone else: I can’t be that funny person everyone is friends with; I can never, in any dimension, be the hot and popular cheerleader. Being a
nerd is the only character I can best play. Have you seen cliché American high school movies where canteen tables describe the clique one belongs to? There’s the popular table, the incognito table, the artsy table and the nerds. Sometimes I take a seat at the incognito and the artsy, but most of the time I’m
glued to the nerds. I’m not saying that I was born a genius and I get perfect scores every freaking time. No. I’m just hard working. One professor told me that thesis is actually easy, so I shouldn’t stress myself too much; but he added that I can’t take it easy because I’m already known as the student who submits one of the best works. Well, that’s just like saying I can’t flunk because everyone’s expecting me not to. That’s it, right?
Expectations.
God, I hate that word. It has always been my weak spot. When people expect too much, I get really crazy and anxious. Their expectations, with the way I’m taking them, feels like the judgment of my life, like the fate of the remainder of my life will depend on their outcome. You’d ask me, why not just shuck the whole thing and forget what they think? I tried, God, how I tried. I tried slacking off and don’t give a shit about it, but in the end, I’d always remember that it’s my reputation on the line. If I do really badly, I would not only disappoint the “expectants”, but I’d also disappoint
myself. I’d get frustrated and depressed, thus my remotely low self esteem would get awfully lower it’s already friends with the Tartarus staples.
Sometimes people would look at me funny when I spend most of my time buried in a book or a puzzle, and I don’t really give a fuck. It makes me happy. I may not have the best Friday nights that are worthy to write a song about, but at least I get the grades that would look fantastic on my transcript. The day may pass and my hair would look like it has never met a comb, but at least I get a pat on the back. Really, I don’t get why some students hate school. They’d whine about how school wastes their time and how Mondays are the worst, but really, when you get rid of everything else and focus on the things that
actually matter, school would make your List of Things I’m Grateful About. A decent education is one of the best opportunities one can acquire. These kids should know their priorities and be thankful that they can afford a good education. I’m not saying that I’m in love with school – that’d be hypocrisy; I also hate Mondays and homework and demanding professors, but I know that all these shits I’ve gone and is going through are my stepping stones to be the best person I can be. They are some pretty hard and pointy stones, but, just like the constant annoying tick of the clock, you just get used to them as time pass.
So do I have a personality now? I’m not sure. Can I just say I’m that person who has a not-so-socially-colorful life but like talking about it nonetheless?
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Unidentified
Describe your personality.
That is one of the questions I always find so hard to answer. I’ve realized that it’s hard for me to describe my personality because I
don’t have one. I don’t have a personality – how
cool is that?
For one thing, I’m not a fun person. My humor is bad and I’m more or less boring. I’m awfully shy around people, and the only interesting topics I can be enthusiastic about are different fandoms and the beautiful world of weirdness. I don’t go out a lot, and when I do I prefer doing it
alone – in
bookstores. I have the personality of a
brick.
Unlike other people, especially those from my school, I don’t have a lot of friends who I hang out with after surviving midterms or something. I’m friends with the library; I’m friends with reading. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop myself from not being diligent. While others are taking everything lightly on their hands, I’m overthinking every single issue like my life depended on it. It’s really frustrating. Sometimes I just want to take things slow and chill a bit, but a few minutes on it, I immediately start to get bothered by my procrastination. When I take things less seriously than how I used to, I have this feeling that I’m betraying someone, this anxiety about something invisible. I always try to push myself too far because, as I’ve realized through the course of time, it’s the only way I can prove to myself that I’m worthy. Worthy of what? I have no idea.
I can’t afford to not be diligent and hard working because those are the only areas where I excel. I’m always that smart kid, that assiduous student who tries to do things perfectly. I can’t be anyone else: I can’t be that funny person everyone is friends with; I can never, in any dimension, be the hot and popular cheerleader. Being a
nerd is the only character I can best play. Have you seen cliché American high school movies where canteen tables describe the clique one belongs to? There’s the popular table, the incognito table, the artsy table and the nerds. Sometimes I take a seat at the incognito and the artsy, but most of the time I’m
glued to the nerds. I’m not saying that I was born a genius and I get perfect scores every freaking time. No. I’m just hard working. One professor told me that thesis is actually easy, so I shouldn’t stress myself too much; but he added that I can’t take it easy because I’m already known as the student who submits one of the best works. Well, that’s just like saying I can’t flunk because everyone’s expecting me not to. That’s it, right?
Expectations.
God, I hate that word. It has always been my weak spot. When people expect too much, I get really crazy and anxious. Their expectations, with the way I’m taking them, feels like the judgment of my life, like the fate of the remainder of my life will depend on their outcome. You’d ask me, why not just shuck the whole thing and forget what they think? I tried, God, how I tried. I tried slacking off and don’t give a shit about it, but in the end, I’d always remember that it’s my reputation on the line. If I do really badly, I would not only disappoint the “expectants”, but I’d also disappoint
myself. I’d get frustrated and depressed, thus my remotely low self esteem would get awfully lower it’s already friends with the Tartarus staples.
Sometimes people would look at me funny when I spend most of my time buried in a book or a puzzle, and I don’t really give a fuck. It makes me happy. I may not have the best Friday nights that are worthy to write a song about, but at least I get the grades that would look fantastic on my transcript. The day may pass and my hair would look like it has never met a comb, but at least I get a pat on the back. Really, I don’t get why some students hate school. They’d whine about how school wastes their time and how Mondays are the worst, but really, when you get rid of everything else and focus on the things that
actually matter, school would make your List of Things I’m Grateful About. A decent education is one of the best opportunities one can acquire. These kids should know their priorities and be thankful that they can afford a good education. I’m not saying that I’m in love with school – that’d be hypocrisy; I also hate Mondays and homework and demanding professors, but I know that all these shits I’ve gone and is going through are my stepping stones to be the best person I can be. They are some pretty hard and pointy stones, but, just like the constant annoying tick of the clock, you just get used to them as time pass.
So do I have a personality now? I’m not sure. Can I just say I’m that person who has a not-so-socially-colorful life but like talking about it nonetheless?
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Profile
Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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