Starting as I mean to continue. Sort of.
Dates for your diary: Slippery Belle- 27th January (Sunday), Manchester Ceilidh- 30th January (Wednesday).
And thank you all for being there for me during my little drama, your kindness means the world to me and I am a silly mare for moaning. More on this later…
Time is a harsh mistress, which is why it’s now 22nd before I’ve been able to tell anyone about my frankly epic New Years. I hope you all had a wild one too. I decided that pootling off on more adventures was in order and so I went up to Edinburgh for Hogmanay with my pally Ally.
I was worried it’d be a bit of an anti-climax but it was amazing! Ally and I were given a whole flat right near the center of town to stay in by her fabulously wealthy (and in denial about it) friends, who were impeccably hospitable and had us round to their ‘student digs’ (or palaces, as they are known) and put victuals in our bellies and all good things. We went to the street party and watched the fireworks and got disgracefully drunk, and found a DJ who achieved the miracle of finding songs we both liked- this has never happened before in the history of the world. It was a very loving atmosphere, to put it tweely, the only regrettable thing being that Ally went to get our last drink while I asked a copper for directions back to the only student accommodation that has a grand piano in the living room, and came back to me with two PINTS of wine. Ally has only met sensible once, and she didn’t recognize him so he’s been avoiding her ever since out of embarrassment. I was a bit ill after that, but if you can’t get alcohol poisoning on New Years’ Eve, when can you get it?
There were pictures, but we had only a disposable camera from the corner shop and it was raining and we were not entirely sober, so not many of them came out.
This is us in Deacon Brodie’s, where they apparently have great value on cask ales-
And this is a terrible picture of the fireworks, which were not all orange and grainy and small, but this is the best we could do-
Incidentally, my sources tell me that Count Prickular, who broke my digital camera in the first place, was at Briony’s New Year party where he broke someone else’s camera. The man is a menace.
Catherine and Morag, you remember that axe I tried on last time we were up there and it was about £80? Guess what I bought this time for £20! It has already come in handy for dividing cream eggs, an investment I’m sure you’ll agree.
I have made many noble and over-ambitious resolutions too. I have been noticing an increasing number of photos of me turning up on Facebook and places, which I have no memory of being taken. I mean that I don’t remember talking to the person I’m with, swapping hats with them, anything like that, but the evidence is there, grinning dazedly out at me with vacant eyes and smudged makeup. This makes me uncomfortable, so I resolve to Know My Limits, unless it’s my birthday or something. I would ask you all to gently remind me of this in the future. I have also resolved to mend my slatternly, procrastinating ways as I have been doing far too many of my essays the night before they’re due and unacceptable things of that nature. I could blame the poor organization of my course which has led me to be poorly organized, but there’s no time for excuses in this game. I don’t mean this in a boring way (honest) and I know there are a lot of people in comparison to whom I am extremely mild, but I resolve to behave myself. I am aware that by making these intentions known I have doomed them to failure, and so I shall not be telling you any of my other resolutions.
Since then I’ve spent much of my time at work, which has not been fun by anyone’s definition, but I did get to go and see An Ideal Husband at the Royal Exchange with Catherine. We weren’t sure about the first half but by the end we were totally won over and couldn’t stop smiling for about two hours.
Ooh, and I'm pimping the old LiveJournal. I've had it for a million years (approximately) so I thought it about time I got a paid account. I've redone my famous biography too, and when I find a layout that I like it shall be a credit to the internet.
I’m arranging another outing for those who would be interested in seeing Waiting for Godot which runs throughout February at the Library Theatre. Catherine and I are definitely going. The invitation is open to everyone who came to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern there last year, since we all liked the venue so much (Lydia, Emma, Morag, Briony, Dick and Dom), and anyone else who might want to travel down from Liverpool or anywhere, though I can’t offer you crash space. I’m just casting the net here to see when would be the best day- we should all book together because last time we got a tasty group discount.
What else? Hmmmm. The Palace hosted the second round of Britain’s Got Talent last week. Yes, I have met Ant and Dec and several score eccentrics, who wants to touch me! It was fucking frightful actually because I had to be in work at 7:30 in the mornings to look after the contestants and had to stand there till after 3:00. I couldn’t walk by Friday, although this did get me out of having to go to Jilly’s. I also have the national humiliation of appearing on the telly in my awful uniform, though I hope they edit me out. I do want to be on telly but not like that!
I drank it off with the usual suspects at Ally’s on Saturday night. I wish you had seen us, it was like, ‘We’re young, we’ve got drugs, it’s Saturday night, what shall we do? A jigsaw!’
I’m back at university as well. Have you ever been so worried about something that you are physically sick? *hears resounding chorus of the affirmative* I’ve made a huge mistake. Not in the course or anything, but in the way I’m doing it, and I’ve no alternative but to ride it out. I swear to you, I feel like all my limbs are going to drop off and my torso shrivel away with worry. Staypositivestaypostivestaypostivestaypositovestaypositive.
Aside from that, and the fact I am still at The Palace and living with an infestation, I’m not doing badly at all. There was the most spectacular sunrise in I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve seen many, over Piccadilly station this morning, which perked me up no end.
And thank you all for being there for me during my little drama, your kindness means the world to me and I am a silly mare for moaning. More on this later…
Time is a harsh mistress, which is why it’s now 22nd before I’ve been able to tell anyone about my frankly epic New Years. I hope you all had a wild one too. I decided that pootling off on more adventures was in order and so I went up to Edinburgh for Hogmanay with my pally Ally.
I was worried it’d be a bit of an anti-climax but it was amazing! Ally and I were given a whole flat right near the center of town to stay in by her fabulously wealthy (and in denial about it) friends, who were impeccably hospitable and had us round to their ‘student digs’ (or palaces, as they are known) and put victuals in our bellies and all good things. We went to the street party and watched the fireworks and got disgracefully drunk, and found a DJ who achieved the miracle of finding songs we both liked- this has never happened before in the history of the world. It was a very loving atmosphere, to put it tweely, the only regrettable thing being that Ally went to get our last drink while I asked a copper for directions back to the only student accommodation that has a grand piano in the living room, and came back to me with two PINTS of wine. Ally has only met sensible once, and she didn’t recognize him so he’s been avoiding her ever since out of embarrassment. I was a bit ill after that, but if you can’t get alcohol poisoning on New Years’ Eve, when can you get it?
There were pictures, but we had only a disposable camera from the corner shop and it was raining and we were not entirely sober, so not many of them came out.
This is us in Deacon Brodie’s, where they apparently have great value on cask ales-
And this is a terrible picture of the fireworks, which were not all orange and grainy and small, but this is the best we could do-
Incidentally, my sources tell me that Count Prickular, who broke my digital camera in the first place, was at Briony’s New Year party where he broke someone else’s camera. The man is a menace.
Catherine and Morag, you remember that axe I tried on last time we were up there and it was about £80? Guess what I bought this time for £20! It has already come in handy for dividing cream eggs, an investment I’m sure you’ll agree.
I have made many noble and over-ambitious resolutions too. I have been noticing an increasing number of photos of me turning up on Facebook and places, which I have no memory of being taken. I mean that I don’t remember talking to the person I’m with, swapping hats with them, anything like that, but the evidence is there, grinning dazedly out at me with vacant eyes and smudged makeup. This makes me uncomfortable, so I resolve to Know My Limits, unless it’s my birthday or something. I would ask you all to gently remind me of this in the future. I have also resolved to mend my slatternly, procrastinating ways as I have been doing far too many of my essays the night before they’re due and unacceptable things of that nature. I could blame the poor organization of my course which has led me to be poorly organized, but there’s no time for excuses in this game. I don’t mean this in a boring way (honest) and I know there are a lot of people in comparison to whom I am extremely mild, but I resolve to behave myself. I am aware that by making these intentions known I have doomed them to failure, and so I shall not be telling you any of my other resolutions.
Since then I’ve spent much of my time at work, which has not been fun by anyone’s definition, but I did get to go and see An Ideal Husband at the Royal Exchange with Catherine. We weren’t sure about the first half but by the end we were totally won over and couldn’t stop smiling for about two hours.
Ooh, and I'm pimping the old LiveJournal. I've had it for a million years (approximately) so I thought it about time I got a paid account. I've redone my famous biography too, and when I find a layout that I like it shall be a credit to the internet.
I’m arranging another outing for those who would be interested in seeing Waiting for Godot which runs throughout February at the Library Theatre. Catherine and I are definitely going. The invitation is open to everyone who came to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern there last year, since we all liked the venue so much (Lydia, Emma, Morag, Briony, Dick and Dom), and anyone else who might want to travel down from Liverpool or anywhere, though I can’t offer you crash space. I’m just casting the net here to see when would be the best day- we should all book together because last time we got a tasty group discount.
What else? Hmmmm. The Palace hosted the second round of Britain’s Got Talent last week. Yes, I have met Ant and Dec and several score eccentrics, who wants to touch me! It was fucking frightful actually because I had to be in work at 7:30 in the mornings to look after the contestants and had to stand there till after 3:00. I couldn’t walk by Friday, although this did get me out of having to go to Jilly’s. I also have the national humiliation of appearing on the telly in my awful uniform, though I hope they edit me out. I do want to be on telly but not like that!
I drank it off with the usual suspects at Ally’s on Saturday night. I wish you had seen us, it was like, ‘We’re young, we’ve got drugs, it’s Saturday night, what shall we do? A jigsaw!’
I’m back at university as well. Have you ever been so worried about something that you are physically sick? *hears resounding chorus of the affirmative* I’ve made a huge mistake. Not in the course or anything, but in the way I’m doing it, and I’ve no alternative but to ride it out. I swear to you, I feel like all my limbs are going to drop off and my torso shrivel away with worry. Staypositivestaypostivestaypostivestaypositovestaypositive.
Aside from that, and the fact I am still at The Palace and living with an infestation, I’m not doing badly at all. There was the most spectacular sunrise in I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve seen many, over Piccadilly station this morning, which perked me up no end.