Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Claire and i went to see Sons and Daughters. On the way home we talked about Barbie dolls and being the stars of our pre-adolescent school plays.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Today, in my newsgathering workshop, we learnt how to search for things using google. I am really starting to wonder "what is the point?" Again. However, whilst searching i thought to myself, i wonder if i can search for my blog? So i did. And i found a website that found my blog last year and said they liked it. Which made me feel quite good about myself for about a minute.
I also bought an ace red belt from a stall in my student's union yesterday. It is quite 80's. That also made me feel good about myself.
Monday, November 21, 2005
We sat in the cafe with our expensive bagels and panninis and talked about how we would rather eat here than in McDonalds. It is a beautiful cafe, large and old fashioned and the sort of place you would go to meet for coffee and a chat about your horse who is lame, "... so i said 'Jeeves, we're going to have to have him put down!' It's frightfully sad." When you walk in the windows are steamed up and the menu is written on the boards in chalk and everyone greets their friends with flushed cheeks where Jack Frost's fingers have been pinching at them. The cakes are stacked on stands and the crisps are home made.
We are too obsessed with Parisian Chic.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Guess what, guess what, guess what. Sometimes i hate her. I hate him. Sometimes i have to bite my tongue.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Makes me sick.
My house next year = french chic/crack den.
We love ourselves, our black and white images shall adorn the walls. Sitting in Starbucks Stacey said, upon questioning, "we picked up cigarette butts from the ashtray and pretended to be Pete Doherty and Kate Moss coupled with Yorkshire barmaids serving from an appple sourz tower."
Hounded by the paparazzi, struggling with drug addictions. But still pulling those pints. Or shots.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
My room is a bit of a mess, as in... clothes strewn everywhere and some to be ironed in the corner next to my bin and a witches broom from my halloween costume. It was a wonderful costume and a not so wonderful night. There are also several piles of books which are doing an incredibly good job of not helping me with the assignment i have due in at 10am on monday morning. So i shall spend all of tomorrow writing words the just sit dormant on the computer screen rather than actually forming sentences that are going to help me pass this course. Little bit of panic arising. A little bit of panic arises everytime i get set a piece of work actually. Yet still, even with this feeling, Stacey texts me and says "i'm walking into town tomorrow if you fancy a wander" and instead of saying "sorry, i've desperatly got to write an essay" my fingers tap out the words "sure thing xx"
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
"The circus girl fell off her horse, now she's paralysed."
So, therefore, the show is over.
"Oh," she said, "It's not like we have a problem here. It's just a minor mishap." Then she walked straight past me as i picked up three papers and hastily bundled them into my bag. Our eyes met, but it was nothing more than a curious glance. My skirt tangled, my hair a mess, nail varnish black and tights shimmering in the weak morning sunlight. Winter is arriving. Sigh. Breathe.
Bye___________________________
