When I got into work this morning I knew how this entry would begin. The first sentence was going to be There is a kind of wildness in me. A freshness, fierce and fleet of wing. I stayed in London last night and adventurously commuted to work from Kings Cross, on the Cambridge stopping service that wanders through fields and past small, misty, ( Read more... )

Dear all,

You are hereby cordially invited to the flat-warming of the Satyr Suite, also dubbed the Flat of Love and the Young Ladies' Seminary for the Taking In of Eccentric Waifs and Strays by various of its inhabitants. These are elise, libellum and strongtrousers, otherwise known as the Satyr (or, on occasion, Sapphic) Suities ( Read more... )

Today has been one of those delicious wastes of a day. I slept my hangover off (last night we celebrated elise's 21st birthday, again), then sought out caffiene (tea) and salt (leftover Pringles) and curled up on the sofa in the dining room with a trashy Anne Rice book for a few hours. I've spent the afternoon at fellatiovilla catching up online using cantabulous's computer, ( Read more... )

I got a first.

My god.

I got a first from fucking Cambridge.

The Calling was grand, although FAR TOO HOT. The sweat was sliding down my legs and I was swigging icewater and pissing off the bar staff by asking for "just ice cubes" every ten minutes. I felt slightly guilty for flaking early but I've been drinking pretty much every night for the last two weeks, and tomorrow I need to post cheques and take ID ( Read more... )

I didn't manage to sleep until 5am last night, and after yvesilena's 8.30am wake-up call I fell asleep again for an hour. However, other than that today has been reasonably productive: I had a useful conversation this morning, spent some time doing emotion-sorting visualisation techniques in the shower to try to help me focus on work this week, and I ( Read more... )