Extremely extremely delayed posts

Right, so now I have internet on my laptop, I can put these posts online - the first one is from that time long long ago, just before Easter started, when we thought that we would spend the Easter holidays working....those were the days. So, this is my writing up of the last night out:

Anyway, since I’ve still got half an hour on the train (I’m in proper gorgeous sunny countryside now, feeling more content – have headphones on, music on shuffle and gorgeous views rolling past the window. Oh look there’s two wooden houses outside the window, painted in rainbow hippie colours – one says ‘pray 4 peace & justice’), I’ll mention last night. So the early evening, and Ego’s presence was somewhat disrupted by the revealing of the blog that shall not be named, so it was a little late by the time I got around to beginning to get ready. The day had already seemed long and strange – probably caused by the realisation that my time in the flat, the balcony, Varey is coming quickly to an end.

For some reason, that seemed even more illogical when we got to e1, we didn’t really pre-drink, apart from a little vodka courtesy of Spanna. Chatted to Pat and Anna whilst getting slowly and surely ready, convinced that Jen, Long-hair and Alex were drinking less slowly, but very surely, in Drapers. Finally make it out, met with Chloe and Elena, waited for Matt to put finishing touches to his lip-gloss, and arrived at Drapers, to be greeted by a scene of absolute chaos and people who should be sedated, strapped down and tattooed with wanker on their foreheads in order to warn people who might accidentally stay on the same side of the road as them. When I thought about e1 being rammed full of people, I imagined it being rammed full of people I know and like. I forgot so many wankers go to QM, I must have been lulled into a false sense of security after avoiding Happy Monday for so long. We were denied access to Drapers, which is an odd experience from any point of view. Our particular point of the queue was the favourite place to push in apparently, which meant we ended up squashed on every side. I had the particular pleasure of having a random guy’s arse in the small of my back. Wanker.

Anyway, we managed to pass other people’s tickets out of the scuffle and make our way to e1. It was at this point more than any other that Anna and I realised how sober we were, and how drunk you have to be to enjoy e1, and the incredible gulf between those two states. We headed straight for the bar. Two drinks each. And Anna’s rule of thumb – if in doubt smoke, and there were lots of doubts. There were bunny-ears, there were school uniforms, there were long queues at the bar. I’m trying to think of things that happened. Oh yes, everybody and everybody’s friend spilled their drink down the back of my bare legs. And then put their cigarette out on my back. I slid over and ended up with black e1 slime on the back of my leg. Sarah arrived to much joy, the three day hangover hit Jen, Alex wore a gorgeous topsical, and we danced like fools to Drum and Bass and some cheesy house music – I was being ironic, honestly. Some people disappeared simultaneously- was it significant? Who can tell? We thought so. Nudge nudge. Drinks were drunk…and anyone who wants a lesson in the power of music should have seen Sarah’s face when the last song came on. I glanced around to see an e1 completely flummoxed, a Jen wetting herself with laughter, and the jointly ironically joyous faces as Sarah celebrated that which is the Baywatch theme tune. “Some people stand in the darkness…” You get the idea. The lights flashed on, we met Chelsea and her new hair on the stairs, and Pat outside. And home.

Here's another random one from the first week of the holidays:

I’m sitting on my sofa, laptop on knee, and I’m not entirely sure if it’ll ever see the light of day, since I’m having problems swapping things between computers. I’ll warn you, this is likely to be a long post – likely to be a rambly type of thing. So, I’m back in the countryside. It’s gorgeous and beautiful and disconcerting in its silence – no traffic, no sirens, no drunken students shouting, no 4am greeting from Jen. It has been fabulously sunny – dangerously so, where revision in concerned – I’ve been dozing off in the sun and wriggling my toes in satisfaction. On Tuesday, Char cycled round and we went on an expedition. Well, it hardly counts as an expedition – an hour tramp through woods, over hills and along fields, to the cosy house of Lell, for lunch. Amazingly beautiful views. Unfortunately, also through a farm. Farms are horrible. Why are they always depicted as attractive places? They are horrible, smelly, shitty places, full of rusting bits of machinery, mangy noisy dogs, and random toxic fires. I love the country. I hate farms. I also love going to lunch with lovely people – I’ve known Lell since I was about nine, and haven’t seen her for a couple of years. She’s in her last year doing drama – guess what her dissertation involves? The woman who does interesting things with a scroll – sound familiar at all, Jen?

I accidentally ended up in the pub last night – it involved giving up my last hour of revision, and The Apprentice. It was a lovely, properly rural pub experience. I was squashed in a corner of the pub (not even standing room left mid-evening, but luckily found a stool), next to the open fire, drinking cider (which wasn’t Strongbow), and watching one guy with an acoustic guitar and a microphone sing folk and modern folk (the type of song introduced as such ‘ this is a song about a wench who was seduced by a sailor, who turned out to be a devilish type of chap), as well as a cover of Hendrix, Purple Haze, and a self penned song about road rage – Toxic Haze. Someone else did a few Jack Johnson covers and Damien Rice. Love the mix of people – proper Presteigne hippy oldies, dreads, Mohicans, old pub men and hoody-wearing teenagers. It’s weird though. I didn’t go to school in Presteigne, or really go out in Presteigne when I was younger, so I really can’t join in ‘Do you know what so-and-so is doing now?’ and ‘Is that so-and-so’s brother’s girlfriend?’ etc. Is this a good thing? I can’t decide. It doesn’t feel like a good thing at the moment. It’s nice to know lots of people, but I suppose it can be kind of irrelevant if you have few but fabulous friends. But it’s still weird not knowing many people at home – apart from a vague, ‘I’ve met you a couple of times, know one of your siblings, or have been taught by one of your parents’ type of knowledge.

Ended the evening in Char’s little red car, sat at the top of my hill, listening to Superstylin’ and having a toke. So teenage! It was like a bad take off of some ghetto experience – car, loud music – the only difference being the panoramic views, the deserted road and our general crapness at the ghetto experience. Much fun.

So, life continues. No junk food, no trashy magazines, no smoking. I reckon Jen would question if this was life at all…! All is good, but hardcore revision starts tomorrow (ha!), and am contemplating risking my hair at the local hairdresser.

Right, one last question (god – can’t you just imagine SJP reading it out?!! Bleurgh) Do you think it’s possible to get to the point where you’re no longer intimidated by people?

I’m still find so many people intimidating…most of you lot when I first met you (hehe – have a guess who and who not!)…basically people who are self possessed, confident, elegant – the type of people who wouldn’t fall on their arse in the middle of a station, who wouldn’t blush when talking in a seminar and who wouldn’t get randomly paranoid. Also, how the hell do you become one of these people, instead of a little squashy clumsy one? Answers on a postcard.

Love and fun to all xxxx