I have been reminded that this blog exists, and with the lack of contact I’ve had with it’s primary readers recently I figured it was about time I added to it.
I’m sitting in my pyjamas procrastinating. For the first time ever I’ve left writing an essay to three days before it’s due to be handed in – not the most terrible choice ever made, but it’s an uncomfortable feeling. I’ve got to find out competition for a compilation of essays on the works of Iris Murdoch – shoulders sag at the idea. This means I have to tackle ‘Nielsen Bookscan’, an online database of practically every book ever sold over the past 10 years – it’s like trying to get blood from a stone. I may not be going out for fireworks this evening after all.
I didn’t even realise who Iris Murdoch was until about five minutes ago…. groan.
November is going to be good, I reckon. We’re moving house back in Devon, which will probably be one of the more heart wrenching moments of my life. When you’ve been lucky enough to grow up in one house, imagining the rooms without their contents sends a shockwave through to your toes. When I told one Miss Emily Shaw that we were leaving it so soon she was outraged; “WHY!? Why would you move out of that house? Where are they moving to? …Beer? That’s not even barely close, that’s ridiculous, you CAN’T! Nothing will be the SAME!” I loved her for that, because that’s exactly what I haven’t said because I know it’s the right thing to do, haha. One thing’s for sure, no one will ever decorate my room as beautifully as I have in the past.
The new house has a balcony as well.
I went to see my favourite band last night. It was a bit of a trek, but absolutely worth it. What is it about going to a rock gig that brings out my inner 14 yr old. I set off fully expecting I’d be thrown into a mosh pit. I had a thick hoody to wrap around my waist, books thick enough to withstand any number of stamping, sweaty moshers and for the first time in over a year, black eyeliner. It made me realise how easy it is for me to look like a teenager… and then, if I want, I can stick on some slightly less trampy clothes and look quite ooold .Good thing?
Anyway, we stood quite sedately somewhere in the middle determined not to have any elbows knock our beers. Excellent 4th November…
