Rush, write, relax.

The proverbial faecal matter hit the fan this morning.

It would seem that buses near me don’t run on a Sunday. Therefore I cannot get to Doncaster train station by bus. No Doncaster station = no train to Newark. No train to Newark = No mini-bus to Stanstead. No Stanstead = No Berlin = Untimely and gruesome death.

So this is karma well and truly bending me over and kicking me with its size 11 steel toe-cap boots firmly up the arse. I tried to be slightly spontaneous recently. That will not do!

Thankfully when I panic I think of lots of situations/possibilities. So an hour later I’m now getting a lift (which I’m paying for in Euros) to Retford train station and then I’m getting a direct service to Newark. Thankfully it won’t cost me as much. Not so thankfully it’ll mean I’m in Newark 2 hours early and without starbucks. Oh the sacrifices we make. So, should you bump into me today in Retford or Newark before 2pm allow me to give a word (or three) of advice. DO NOT APPROACH! lol, I’m all flustered now so methinks a bit of alone + ipod time is required. Thankfully I love travelling, more so at times than actual holidays, so I’m not too worried about all of this. Now I know I can actually get there I’m fine. I even considered taking my mum’s car, well for part of the journey.

Anyhoo, I need to go soon and I think a cup of tea is in order before-hand.

I feel much calmer now than when I started writing, oh the wonders of blogging, lol.

Bis bald x

Bonjour. J’ai eu un bon jour :D

So, today has been epic.

I awoke relatively and mooched around the house until about 10am. Then I dressed and walked into town and caught the first bus I could to Lincoln. It turned out that I got on the OAP service, being as I was the only passenger under the age of 50. Until half way through the journey. Then an old friend from secondary school got on. We spent the rest of the journey comparing our experiences of our different colleges. His sounds so much better than mine. Namely as he has a social life, lol.

I got off the bus and decided to take a walk along the river for a bit. So I followed the river out of the city centre for about 10 minutes and came to a quiet spot. Then I sat for a while and listened to my ipod and watched random pieces of litter flowing downstream, I even decided to video one piece. Becaus, well, I had nothing better to do. It’s only a short (and, I expect, mind-numbingly boring) clip because my camera seems to increase battery-usage ten-fold when videoing so I made it short for fear of wasting my batteries before I’d started the day properly. I had brought spares of course.

And then I walked up the hill, and back down. On the way down I found a little alleyway which was quite quaint. And then I made my way back to the bus station. Then I made my way to Waterstone’s. Firstly the big one, I had my usual flick through the latest satirical political commentaries – as recommended by the Waterstone’s e-mail I get weekly (ok, maybe a tiny bit sad, but I don’t care.) I then considered buying a book about Berlin because I’m going there for four days tomorrow. I then thought against it and instead decided to make my way to Starbucks. But on the way to Starbucks I remembered a letter I got recently asking me whether I’d read anything interesting or not recently. The answer is no, so I diverted myself to the second Waterstone’s in Lincoln and set about finding a book. I wanted something fictional for once, because recently a lot of my reading has been very factual, and often technical. But I wanted something that would be interesting and make me think. Thankfully I stumbled upon an absolute gem. (Note; I’ve only read a quarter of the book so far so it may not be a gem, just a quarter gem.) The book is called “Jack” and it’s by A. M. Homes. The author wrote Jack when she was 19, and you can perhaps tell from the writing style. It’s also written in the first person, so it reads almost like a blog. The plot is sufficiently complex enough to adequately mirror the life of the average 19 year-old and the use of humour and suchlike makes it really easy to empathise with the writer. Yes, the events of the story are slightly more extreme than some of us are used to, but so far so good. I’ll endeavour to tell you my opinion of it when I’m finished.

So, having bought the book (£7.99 – £5 of which I paid with a book token, yet still got Waterstone’s card points for the entire price! ) I made my way to Starbucks where I had planned to meet a friend. I got myself a Caramel Latte and a Belgian Chocolate Fudge Brownie (as pictured above) and sat down to read. Unfortunately the aforementioned friend had neglected to wake up that morning Eventually, an hour and fifty minutes later, I reached for the brownie and there was none left. (Let me please highlight the momentousness of that statement – I made a brownie last 1h50mins! Which proves that the novel is extremely engrossing!) So I closed the book, drank the cold drags of the caramel latte and started the hike up to the cathedral.

Any of you who’ve ever attempted to scale steep hill in Lincoln will know that it’s more than capable of giving the late Edmund Hillary an exhausting run for his money (well, especially now being as he’s dead and all.) But it wasn’t too bad actually. The air was cold so it was quite thin and I managed it with much more ease than normal. Then I walked around the Bail briefly and then the Cathedral. Adequately awed, and with a now adequately filled camera memory card, I made my way down the curvy hill past the Usher Gallery and back to High street. I had a walk down to the football stadium and then back up and then decided to call it a day.

(I quite liked this picture: http://img406.imageshack.us/my.php?image=lin082ba5.jpg just because of the lack of clouds )

It seems that during the day, the amount of old people that it is possible to fit in a bus increased massively! So after an hour long spell in God’s portable waiting room I found myself back in Gainsborough. I walked home, via a takeaway where I purchased egg-fried rice with House Special Curry (the special bit is that it costs £1 more and has what vaguely resemble mushrooms in it.) I then scaled another hill to get home and heated my cuisine and ate it.

Then I had a bath, then I took all of my neatly ironed vetements and threw them onto my bed. Then chose a random selection of trousers (read: jeans,) T-shirts and jumpers. I then folded them so they were even smaller and shoved them into my hold-all for tomorrow. Shortly afterwards, they were joined by underwear and two towels. I’m yet to sort out what toiletries to take, and then of course come chargers, electrical devices, weapons of mass destruction etc.

Having almost packed my bags I decided to write about what had actually been quite a nice day. And so, a considerable number of minutes later here I (that “I” was the 1000th word in this post by the way!) am. So in conclusion, today has been pretty good. I risk sounding socially retarded here, but I actually enjoyed being alone but being surrounded by people. It was quite refreshing.

I’m quite excited about Berlin now. I set off at 9am tomorrow morning, we get to our Hotel (the Hotel Domicili – http://www.hotel-domicil-berlin.de/ ) at around midnight CET (GMT+1.) I’m really really excited because it’s a small group of us, and I’m really good friends with everyone that’s going. So yeh, if things were looking up anymore they’d be looking behind me That made sense in my head too!

Now I shall love and leave you all, for now.

Bis Bald! x

(Un)muted frustration

    It’s been a while since I last blogged. And I guess I should, or rather could, start by explaining why.

    I’ve been hit, square in the face, by a brick wall of complete and utter apathy. Of late I am, quite possibly, the single most boring person, emotionally speaking, on the face of the planet. At the moment I can’t help but feeling, well, grey.

I have no idea what to say. I don’t have any particularly momentous thoughts at the moment, no emotions are tugging heartstrings, nothing is peeving me off to the extent that I feel I have to denounce it openly in writing. In fact, if anything less was happening in my head then I’m pretty sure I could be classed as brain-dead. The emotions I do stumble across in my penumbrally wandering state are often mere pebbles at the roadside. Whereas usually I’d encounter great potholes and hurdles across my path.

    So, taking an objective view of all of this. Essentially, I seem to be more apathetic and more detached. Well, that’s great? Surely that means that I don’t have reason to complain or grumble, criticise or attempt to make sense of anything. Maybe, just for once, I can shut the fuck up. Well, no. Because I’m trapped in a cloud of grey and I’m used to the LSD-like colours and surroundings of an almost psychotic and mesmeric parallel world. So, sorry, but grey is boring my pissing socks off! And not only that, grey has meaning to me. Usually this greyness is the sign of things to come, or things passed. But now this is my past, present and future. I’m drowning, and the longer this goes on the deeper the water gets. I can feel myself sinking away from the reality that was previously so damn perfect. And so now I feel myself feeling bitter, cheated. And I enjoy that because it’s emotion! Sod what type of emotion it is, I’m feeling it so i’m enjoying it. But now I’ve revelled in it the bitterness has gone and I’m back in the penumbral cloud of grey. I’m using grey a lot. I don’t dislike the colour grey itself. I just chose it to describe this state. I’d say it was beige? But I quite like beige too. Black? Love black. Pink? too happy. See, not only am I apathetic but I’m indecisive and plain stupid too.

I can’t imagine how utterly fucked up this will sound to read. And to be fair, I don’t care. Well, it’s not that I don’t care, I just, don’t understand? ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!

FKJLASDJLLGJASHAH!!

I HATE THIS

ABSOLUTELY EVERY FUCKING MOMENT OF IT

I CAN’T DO IT

    And, I don’t expect anyone to understand because I don’t even understand it. I just feel like I’m no longer living my life, but watching it being lived. I feel like a spectator of myself. I’m frustrated, angry, upset, confused, bewildered and bitter. And I hate it, but none of these emotions are half of what I’m used to. And I know I sound melodramatic, attention-seeking and pretty much outright mental but I just need to feel something.

    To those of you who know me, I’m sorry if this makes you feel awkward around me but I just had to get it off my chest. To the two, who know who they are, I love you both very much and always will do. And I’m sorry if of late I’m detached, moody and downright bastard-like. And to those of you who don’t know me. Well, consider yourselves lucky I guess.

    I probably shouldn’t have written this. And will no doubt delete it at a later date. But for the moment it will stay. As, it seems, will my cloud. However, I do have a sliver lining. And I’ve mentioned them previously. Thank you. I’m sorry.

P.S – I’m also extremely sorry for my language in this post. It’s not big, and it’s not clever – but it does serve as some elementary form of primitive release.