So, its been ages since I blogged. Mostly, I guess, because I don't want to write about something boring or unimportant.
Summer has been busy. Soooooo much has happened. Did a show, went to france, worked, partied, got a boyfriend, fell out with friends, cried, made up with friends, laughed, ate crap, drank cheap wine, got paid, got broke, gone on dates, taken pictures blablabla.
Today my best friend and I went to the zoo. A decision we made last night. But oh, such a brilliant one. Armed with a camera, water and tights, in case of coldness, we drove to Marwell Zoo.
a) I love the word Zoo, we very rarely get the chance to say words beginning with Z so I just love it. Much more than my ridiculous surname, which even I can't pronounce after a few drinks.
b) On the way we passed a very dull sounding place called Rufus Stone, made much better by some comedic genius of a vandal, who sprayed on a D at the end of "Stone."
c) I want a penguin. In my house. Now.
But I don't think I want to write about the zoo really. As results day looms, I have found that apparently I am to be homeless in London come September and very very soon I will be a million miles away from the lives of people I love most, I have started to do what probably no one should ever do. Think about what all this is - i.e. life.
Frank Turner describes the humming feeling at the pit of my stomach very well -
Frank Turner describes the humming feeling at the pit of my stomach very well -
Well a teacher of mine once told me
That life was just a list of disappointments and defeats
And you could only do your best,
And I said "That's a fucking cop-out, you're just washed up and you're tired, and when I get to your age I won't be such a coward"
But won't I? This is the point, I am so so terrified of looking back in 20 years time and finding that my life has been a huge disappoinment. I think I'm expecting too much from it.
Right now Im behind a fence, waiting to get on the otherside which I can't see. And in my overactive imagination, the other side is the best thing in the world. In my head, when I get to the other side all these things Ive wanted my entire life are going to surround me and BAM I'll be the person I want to become. But lets face it, how many of us really get the things in life we want so badly at 17?
Be it fate or luck or God or some massive plan thats been in place since the day I was born, my future is dangling before my eyes and I can't seem to catch it long enough to work out what it might be.
Its stupid to be scared now I've got this far, rambling on for years how I can't wait to get out and "change the world" but the truth is - I am petrified. Because I may have set myself up for disappointment.
I sound depressed, I'm not. Actually I am ridiculously happy.
Last night I ordered a platter of shots at the pub, where every one knows my name (YES, I've got a local of my own!) Following this I turned to my manager, sat next to me, and told him he was fired. Classic.
A couple of weeks ago I was sat in Ellen's car drinking milk from the carton and sharing jelly babies.
Last week Lauren and I wrote a huge rap for a friends birthday, caught the ferry across the river to Christchurch, bought 300gramms of olives, salmon sandwhiches and ginger beer and watched holocaust films.
A few days ago Fenella and I spent at least an hour searching holidays in amazing places we can't afford and will probably never visit.
Things are fine, the important ones. I'm just wondering whether some of us, might have dreams and ideals but really, we should accept that whereever we get to is, not to sound like a dick, but where we're "meant to be." And we'll get there no matter what we do.
But we try anyway, so if somehow we get really far it feels like we've earnt it.
So Franks last few lines leave me feeling a little bittersweet. I don't know what to make of them.
Right now Im behind a fence, waiting to get on the otherside which I can't see. And in my overactive imagination, the other side is the best thing in the world. In my head, when I get to the other side all these things Ive wanted my entire life are going to surround me and BAM I'll be the person I want to become. But lets face it, how many of us really get the things in life we want so badly at 17?
Be it fate or luck or God or some massive plan thats been in place since the day I was born, my future is dangling before my eyes and I can't seem to catch it long enough to work out what it might be.
Its stupid to be scared now I've got this far, rambling on for years how I can't wait to get out and "change the world" but the truth is - I am petrified. Because I may have set myself up for disappointment.
I sound depressed, I'm not. Actually I am ridiculously happy.
Last night I ordered a platter of shots at the pub, where every one knows my name (YES, I've got a local of my own!) Following this I turned to my manager, sat next to me, and told him he was fired. Classic.
A couple of weeks ago I was sat in Ellen's car drinking milk from the carton and sharing jelly babies.
Last week Lauren and I wrote a huge rap for a friends birthday, caught the ferry across the river to Christchurch, bought 300gramms of olives, salmon sandwhiches and ginger beer and watched holocaust films.
A few days ago Fenella and I spent at least an hour searching holidays in amazing places we can't afford and will probably never visit.
Things are fine, the important ones. I'm just wondering whether some of us, might have dreams and ideals but really, we should accept that whereever we get to is, not to sound like a dick, but where we're "meant to be." And we'll get there no matter what we do.
But we try anyway, so if somehow we get really far it feels like we've earnt it.
So Franks last few lines leave me feeling a little bittersweet. I don't know what to make of them.
Leave the mourning to the morning
Yeah pain can be killed
With aspirin tablets and vitamin pills
But memories of hope, and glorious defeat
Are a little bit harder to beat
I'll leave the mourning to the morning for now, as for the hope and glorious defeat, I'll get back to you in 20 years time Frank.
Yeah pain can be killed
With aspirin tablets and vitamin pills
But memories of hope, and glorious defeat
Are a little bit harder to beat
I'll leave the mourning to the morning for now, as for the hope and glorious defeat, I'll get back to you in 20 years time Frank.
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