I am so tired.

These past few days have not been fun. In fact, the 9th ranks as one of 2007's big low points so far.

I managed to knock a full cup of coffee off my desk in spectacular fashion on Saturday night, smashing the cup, soaking a vast array of papers, and flooding out my laptop, which summarily fizzed and turned off. After half an hour of mass hysteria on my part, I was told it may well be okay if I leave it a while, so it's still off. The hard drive will be salvagable.

My clearing-up and packing-up schedule get skewed, partially due to the devious nature of the task, whereby the list of tasks yet to do never seems to end, as you suddenly realise that *those* shelves need cleaning too. I managed to get my room sorted out, but ran out of time with the communal areas, getting only as far as cleaning shelves, and failing at defrosting a freezer. Grandad was a major help, collecting the mountain of things I had left over, and especially when I set off for the station, only for my clothes bag to break and it to start torrentially raining. The lift was welcome, but the train stopping at Barnes and Wandsworth for whatever reason, as well as the difficulties of dragging a massive suitcase (the clothes bag replacement) around the Underground meant I missed my train and had to pay a fair amount to make it up to Nottingham.

I miss Hazel House immensly. It ended so quickly, when we still had so much to do. I miss Holly. Deeply. Playing Katamari isn't as fun without her watching, and I feel uneasy with her being so far away.

Oh, and thank goodness for musicals. Aside from Holly, the thing that kept me going this weekend was both the film and the soundtrack to Rent. No day but today.

Proper update when I'm not exhausted, then. Not from my laptop, though, so I'm waiting on my brother's whims in regards to computer access. I may just sleep. It's so depressing leaving Hazel House behind, when it really felt so much like home. Apparently, they've already started changing it. Oh, life.

I'll be more eloquent when I can keep my eyes open. Talk to you tommorrow!

What, more terrorism? I was expecting another day of news on the floods and the new Cabinet, but instead I get to see images of a car bomb opposite the Pizza Hut we eat at sometimes when we're in London. I'm not going to start looking at every parked car or Arab with suspicion, even when I'm in London. In fact, I'm not viewing this as anything more than another piece of a news, most of which tends to be threatening anyhow. There was indeed a type of black humour in this happening on new (first-ever-female) Home Secretary Jacquiline Smith's first day, when she already has floods on her plate. Quite a wake up call. I also find it somewhat amusing that we are so British that even car bombs get towed away for being illegally parked. Gordon Brown does seem interested in what makes Britain Britain, so perhaps he'd appreciate that, even if I suspect a good deal of his drive for Britishness is to slow down the increading rate of Scottishness. The fact that I'm quietly optimistic about all this makes me feel utterly naive, and I expect I'll be proved right, but it's still interesting to have such a change at the top.

Housewise, we're still having a few issues that we're sorting out with each other. It's quite personal, so I won't go into details at all, but it is something that is casting a shadow over this last week-and-a-bit. Living with people isn't easy, but that's a lesson of life. I've not made things much easier for myself, but I hope to try and tackle those issues in the future, starting with a total clearup of the warzone that was once my room. I've got a long way to go, and if I am to stay with a family next year, as I may have to owing to house prices, I shall have to spend the Summer rehearsing.

We have booked accommodation for Amecon, after being somewhat surprised that a cheap-not-cheerful hotel a few minutes walk away wasn't yet fully booked for that weekend. Even though I will have my family home to myself that week, we lack the wheels to travel an hour down the M1, but we shall be there. I do hope I'll really enjoy it, especially as I've been feeling a little seperate from the world of anime this year, with the exceptions of One Piece and Lucky Star.

On the note of events, watching Glastonbury on TV was enthralling. It looks so deeply appealing, because I do love my music deeply, and watching the Killers blast out 'When You Were Young' (somewhat of a theme for the year), the Manics play their classic songs, and The Who performing the sublime 'Won't Get Fooled Again' with the inspired backdrop of three-sided playing/tarot cards...I'd have loved it. Or would I? See, most people I know in person don't see me as anything like the sort of person who'd go to rock festivals, or even rock gigs. I do suspect somewhat that the problem isn't so much me not standing them, but rather me not being outgoing enough. I've tended to do very little rather than seeking out opportunites presented to me, at least during the holidays, so I rarely get around to the idea of even checking to see if there are any gigs I can go to. After the deal with Blackmore's Night, I'm a little less enthusiastic, but to be fair, it wasn't a bad show, and I had very positive experiences with Video Games Live, so just maybe...in the future...

Oh yes, and I forgot to mention that I went for a meal with my father and my father's father on Sunday. It rained all morning, and then we went to a rural pub somewhere in Berkshire which had yellow roses, three goats and a sheep. The food wasn't bad either, especially the soup, but I kept checking to see what mayhem the various farm animals were up to outside the window. Later, one of the goats almost ate my camera. The level of action even rivalled that of the previous night's Doctor Who, which is less than 20 hours away from finishing its series. I've read vast lists of speculation as to what's going to happen, and whilst some are quite convincing, I won't tell you what they are, unless you really want to know, just in case I accidentaly spoil things for the various Whovians on my FL.

Do remind me: I've a long serious entry that I need to type up either tonight or tommorrow. I feel I may be being a little frivolous with my LJ as of late, because surely what I watch on TV, what I have for supper, and what I spend these long days doing (not much) isn't all that interesting!

There is a distinct sense of change in the air today. The feeling all around that things will be different now, for better...or for worse.

The big thing today, or so it seems, is that we have a new Prime Minister. It's almost as unbelievable for Gordon Brown to be running the country as it is for Harold Saxon, but there we go. It's been a decade since Blair took office, and whilst the first three or four years are vague to me, I barely remember politics before that (Blair took office when I was 10). I do remember walking back from Junior School, and my Mum telling me happily that things would be different, better, now that the Tories had lost power. I fully believed her of course: back then, both my parents were members of the Labour party. Times have changed. Ironically, though, I'll miss almost all of Brown's first year, as I'll be living in a country under Merkel instead!

That's by no means all the change. For one thing, Hazel House is pretty much over. It's just Holly and I left, as Brian moved out this afternoon. It's not going to be like last Summer, however, where we often had the house to ourselves until September, as we leave in two weeks. One fortnight, and we have to totally erase our traces on the house during that time. It's a long goodbye, in other words. The house already felt emptier without Helen, Amy and Anna, so without Brian...well, it has been a year. I can't say we had a harmonious household by any means, although I'd really rather not go into details here, but it will be a shame to leave it behind.

More change too. Final Fantasy XII is complete, and I've little desire to replay it (yet, at least). Doctor Who is reaching its long-awaited climax (I could go into details about Toclafane theories, and John Simm's character, but I won't yet). The train company I use to get between London and Nottingham will be no more in the Autumn (either this year or next): Midland Mainline, and Central Trains, are both being taken over by Stagecoach, who run South West Trains down here. I can't say I'm delighted.

Hey, even my home county is now half-underwater!

Campus feels quieter than it did even last week. It would appear that there's no-one here but admin staff, and the occassional lecturer. It's peaceful, but it's also unsettling, especially after a year of being surrounded by all these people going everywhere. That Summer buzz that I mentioned confused me disappeared totally with the end of term, and these are the dull days. Of course, being back in Nottingham won't exactly be any speedier. I need to make peace with the peace.

The Solstice already? This year is fair flying by. Days slip past, and I barely notice, so that when I come to LJ, it's been a week since my last update. I remember the days I updated every 1.5 days. A different era, now.

We still don't know what caused the concert chaos. As it transpires, not only did Blackmore skimp on the encores, but the concert time was severely curtailed. A few days before, in York, they played for a full hour and a half more than for us, including such pre-BN hits as Black Night, Soldier of Fortune, and Smoke on the Water(!). We were unlucky in getting Reading. However, as there has been no official word yet, I can't tell you much more. Theories abound. Some claim that Ritchie was just having an off day, some blame the venue (especially the sound), whilst some ominously claim this is the beginning of the end for the group. I'll keep you informed, but I'm not hopeful of hearing any more. Apparently, the Hexagon offered someone who kept complaining tickets to the Brighton gig, but I can't make that anyhow.

July 10th, we're no longer residents of Hazel Close. It's too close, now, far closer than I can comfortabley muse upon it. So, whilst we want to just relax and have fun, we're having to gradually pack up. In fact, in the next two days, I need to pack up a vast majority of my things so they can be taken home when Dad visits on Saturday evening. I don't want to, but I have to. It won't be long before I'm back in Nottingham, eating my Mum's meals, drinking far too much coffee, and leaving the house daily to pick up whatever the family wants from the local supermarket. I want to enjoy these last few weeks, but at the same time, they're going to be a lot of work. Alas.

Furthermore, exam results arrive on the 4th July. I'm dreading them, this time, because I'm quite sure I won't have 70 or above for my two history units, and I know I won't for my German Language. If I'm to get a First at the end of all this, coming out of this year with, out of four units, one First, two 2:1s and a 2:2 will put a lot of pressure on me in my last year. I don't do as well in History exams as I do in essays and presentations, so my whole justification for taking History suffers. I'm worried.

As for FFXII, Yiazmat is down, just Omega and Bahamut left. It's been fun, but having another burst of video game nostalgia has reminded me of older Final Fantasies. I have to admit that, in that clichéd way, VII is still my favourite, but then again, it was my first, and I do like its darker atmosphere than some of the lighter others (FFXII doesn't have a dark atmosphere. I don't know quite what atmosphere it does have, though). Twelve reminds me of Ten, but with aspects of Nine. It's less linear than previous installments, but to an extent that the plot really does play second fiddle. It becomes a case whereby you move to the next plot scene after you've killed all marks, gained all Espers, bazaared this-or-that and so on. In this respect, it really suffers, despite some phenomenal voice acting (especially Balthier!) and a plot that does offer some nice twist and turns. Yet...it's not a Final Fantasy, not in the VII sense, and not even in the classic sense. Which is odd, but times move on, and with a game time approaching ten days, I can't say it hasn't been fun.


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For those living in the UK, I do trust that this Saturday, you will exercise your right and vote. When you do, remember to vote for the man who can change the future, Mr. Harold Saxon. He's really a master at politics, which is no bad thing considering that Jones woman. In fact, Saxon is just really a master at everything. Whilst some may claim they saw him driving around in a Ford Cortina in the 70s, I can tell you that he was only born in 1969, although it is true he does seem to have the look of a man who experienced centuries in his eyes! So, you know you have only one true choice. Don't forget to check out his stirring election broadcast too, this Saturday on BBC1. I do trust that it'll be worth it, although I bet you that some-one has doctored it...

Oh, Summer, you strange thing. Greenery, heat, freedom, sapphire light at your 4am window. For a majority of Hollowegians, Summer means Pimms in the Quad. Or rather, it did. The term ends on Friday. Well, that year has gone by quickly, and yet, at the same time, it hasn't. It it unsettling to think that it's less than a month until we leave Hazel House behind, but it does feel that we have been there a long long time. Summer '06, with its walks to Windsor, green beans in vinegar, and having to rely on Campus for the internet...another world, really. It doesn't help that I've been so out of things as of late, as it makes the impending milepost all the more strange and imposing. Time spares no-one.

One year since the End of Williamson. I remember that last night, the electric buzz in the air, the way sleep was far from everyone's minds, and the knowledge that the walls in which you sat would soon be no more. Hah, Williamson was rubble in August, and a new building now stands there, almost complete. The same thing happened with my Infant School, my Junior School, and even the Becket is to get a new site. Time never ceases to remind me of its march by burning every inn I overnight in. I look back, and the road behind is as new as the one before.

Next year, of course, shall make things e'en more odd. It's not as if I'm going into my final year at Holloway like those doing the straight History course. If it was, I'd at least know I'd be walking these paths for a good few months yet, through a campus once utterly alien, but now as familiar as my reflection. Hah, for I shall still have a year to order a coffee from Café Jules, amble down the curved corridors to this PC lab, and type away with the Students' Union over my shoulder. That awaits me, although I bear in mind that a year will have passed when it does come, and things will have changed to make even the familiar something new. 2008/09 will be amazing.

Next year, however, is not spent on campus, or even in this country. I am away, to Germany. The Year Abroad, the strange twist to all language degrees, once reassuringly distant, is now very real. I not only know I'm going, but I know where I'm going. Exactly where. Those watching my user profile (I expect that means 'no-one') will have seen that I've added a new school to my list. Yes, next year, I will be a language assistant at the Johann-Heinrich-Voß-Gymnasium in Eutin, Schleswig-Holstein.

( Details on my school for next year, the Voß-Gymnasium )

( Details of my town for next year, Eutin in Schleswig-Holstein )

Yet it is so hard to believe now, sitting here in Egham, with Holly on her way back from visiting her family, with The Apprentice final in a few hours, with the Lv99 Red Chocobo beckoning, with the end of term waiting around the corner, and the end of Hazel House not long after. I'm scared. Time terrifies me, it always has. I remember singing a song of memories on the field at school in 2003, spinning slowly in memory of good times gone, and now that is four years ago. I watch Andrew Marr's History of Modern Britain (which is, incidentally, the best history documentary I've seen for years), and I ponder the past and weep at time's march, so how much stronger is it when all is so personal.

I could cling onto a branch to escape the flow of days, but it'd just turn out to be yet more flotsam.

So, appropriately enough, tommorrow is the date of that Blackmore's Night concert I booked tickets for back in early March. Another distant thing is suddenly imminent. If they play 'The Clock Ticks On' I will cry. And cry.

That is how it should be.

Ahah, well so much for my week of updates. For once, however, it's not been because I tend to leave it too late, but simply as I've been doing a lot. Every day. I'm not sure whether this means I actually feel accomplished or not, however. I'll give you a runthrough of my week:

( This might be more interesting when I get the 500 photos uploaded )

Oh, and I'll be posting answers to the Lyrics Quiz tommorrow evening, so if you haven't had a go, feel free to pop over to my journal and test yourself. There have been some interesting answers so far.

Eww, my cucumber turned out to be pretty moudly, and it seems it was already off when I bought it two days ago. On the plus side, the balsamic salad and curried pasta-pea concution are both yummy, so I'm still having a nice dinner, albeit it an odd one. It's simply because I didn't get the chance to make the sandwiches I'd been planning to do, and so I'm having to eat certain things before they join the cucumber in the ways of the mould.

So...very little updating again. Perhaps the key reason for this is the way I'm falling asleep as soon as I lie down in the evening/early morning, and I'm busy doing various other things for the rest of the day. I was a little shocked to realise how little I'd actually been saying, in fact, and I have indeed much to say. The problem thus is that I'll be writing a very long post which, unless you're sitting there with a coffee/tea/thing relaxing, you probably won't read in its entirity. I'm sorry about that.

The Student Loans chaos has continued. I recieved word very soon after the previous post that I was going to get it, but then it was delayed again. After my parents played document ping-pong with Nottingham City Council beaureaucrats, I think we've finally worked out what was going on. My account was slipping into very low figures when I got a letter informing me my loan payments for 2005/06 were now authorised, listing payments on such dates as the 9th January 2006, with a final payment of c.£200 yesterday. I got the £200, and it seems that my loans in the first year were not authorised fully, hence the council wanting the documents for 2005 again. They have since worked out I was paid £200 less than I ought to have been, and hence made up the difference before giving me the loan for this year. In any case, whilst I'm still yet to gain the loan for this year, with which I can stop the landlord glaring at me, the £200 means that I can withstand another few weeks without having to arrange an overdraft. Thank goodness.

I've had other worries too. For one thing, the Estate Agents have proved themselves to be one of the lowest orders of mankind. Not only do they consistently lie about what time they're coming (they've been half an hour late these past two appointments), nor give the required 24h notice, but they keep writing to our landlord complaining how our house is a health hazard. Ummm, no, it really isn't. We tidied it up last week, and it's been on the right side of untidy ever since. I think the problem is that in our cleanup, we filled up the bin, and as such, had overflowing bins for a week until the council came to collect the full one. We solved this dilemma by using various carrier bags around the bin, but the evil Estate Agent seems to have thought that we like wallowing in muck, such was the tone of his letter to our landlord. He also moaned about us having pots and pans around the sink: in other words, he wants us to have a showhouse. None of us are remotely happy about this underhand Estate Agent. For those who care, it's 'Browns'.

Another stress comes from the chaotic politics of campus media. I was planning to do an update on this a few days back, but it's seriously complicated, and I don't have the time to type up the whole crazy story. Basically, for those who are not Hollowegians, I am Travel Editor for the student magazine, The Orbital. This has meant I've been commissioning various people to write articles, editing them, and writing a few of my own. It's been enlightening, and I think I've done a pretty good job: the experience I've gained in understanding the printed media, and how to manage people, has been invaluable. However, not long after we won an award for 'Best Student Magazine 05/06', a particularly outgoing fresher started a campus newspaper. He's good at it. Within a month of its weekly publishing, it's become something that strangers to campus see as professional, in line with national papers. It's got the layout. It makes money through advertising, and it's weekly nature compares favourabley with the montly Orbital. The newspaper, The Founder, was not intended to challenge the Orbital, but in the eyes of the campus population, it has, and the general opinion seems to be that it's doing a better job. The SU VP for Communications & Services certainly thought so, as he told the Orbital to become more RHUL-relevant or to become a newspaper. This was done, creating an issue with a lot more news than our previous, more-lifestyle based issues were, and the pressures involved in the whole affair have caused a number of cracks in the Orbital editorial board. I've been focusing on keeping my section as good as it has ever been, especially since the Founder does not cover travel, but others have found it a lot harder. It's pretty crazy, and I've only given you a general outline. Needless to say, campus media is in a turbulent period.

I also developed a neck pain. It could be related to all the various stresses flying around, but it's meant that I've had a dull ache in the upper-left side of the back of my neck. Its intensity is most variable, as its often been there in the evening but not the morning, and once vice versa. I initially figured I'd been sitting in a bad position, but its persistence has had me a little more concerned, as a stiff neck can be a sign of meningitis. I've not displayed any other symptoms, and I've been watching, but I'll still pop into the medical centre tommorrow to see if they can help.

I seem to have developed a temporary obession with nuclear weapons. For the past few days, I've spent a considerable amount of my free time reading up about fission bombs and fusion bombs on Wikipedia. I've always had a degree of fascination with nukes, which is probably related to the otherwordly conditions they create. Mushroom clouds look fantastic, provided you can ignore the devastation and potential suffering caused below them. I don't mean by that that I'm in favour of nuclear weapons by any means, but I still find them fascinating. I can relate this to the docudrama Nuclear Secrets currently showing on Monday evenings on BBC2 documenting the nuclear race between the USA and USSR (although they're covering the Israel/South Africa controversy next week). It's certainly given me the idea for a story, though, the embryonic form of which I had already developed last year, but have now a more definite plan for. It'd be a short story, and despite my initial worries, seems different enough from Dr. Strangelove to work. I've had quite a few story ideas as of late, actually. I may even write some of them.

Incidentally, the reason I found out about Nuclear Secrets was that it comes on soon after University Challenge. I realised with some delight that I can actually attend the RHUL UC trials this year, and intend to go along and have a go at making the team. I don't believe I'm good enough for the show, but I'd like to know just how good I am, hence the trial. Holly is convinced that I'm a quiz genius, and I set out to prove her wrong with Monday's show, before surprising myself by getting 20% or so of the answers. Maybe there is hope? I'd certainly like to give it a go!

February already. How times flies. 2007, what is wrong with you? It doesn't feel all that long since I sat with mulled wine watching the London Eye turn into the world's largest Catherine Wheel at New Year. I've a lot happening this February. Essay deadlines return to rob me of sleep. I'm going to Berlin with the German Society. I'll attend both Societies Ball (German Soc for the Win!) and Modern Languages Dinner. However, over all these things comes by 20th birthday in just over a week. Hoho, nineteen is a nothingy-age, but 20? The end of teenagery, the birth of true adulthood, a new digit to use at the front of your age, and so on. It's not going to have a great effect on me, however, because through various channels, I already feel that I'm a few stages beyond the me who wrote in this LJ two years ago. It's only scary if you turn around and look how high you've climbed.

I got the mark back for my German Project. 65, a pure 2.1, which I'm quite happy with considering my written German still has some way to go. Apparently, my research was fantastic, my grammar was solid, but I made many silly mistakes. That's always the story, so it seems. Happily, my reading comprehension seems to have gone on leaps and bounds in the past year. I now have little trouble with translation exercises that cause others to struggle (it's the other way round for some of the written pieces). I noticed during my stay in German in December that I was having far less trouble understanding things then I had before. It's reassuring indeed, but I still need to improve on my spoken and written German before the exams to ensure I gain a good grade for German Language this year. Oh, and speaking of work, I've got two essays to do in the next fortnight. The first will be on population demographics in the 19th Century, the other will either be on Japan under Douglas McArthur or the Korean War. I'm out of shape when it comes to research, however, unless you're talking about nuclear bombs...

Okay, I've got to go places now, so I'll be back later for more. Once again, sorry for the volume of blog I've thrown at you now!

This is far more stressful than it need be. Never mind the falling asleep afore doing any work last night, it's that I'm having to do a lot of things all at once. I've got a small piece to write on the EU for 3pm, but I've neither the time nor the specific question. Equally, I've a piece to read for German Film later, but that's managable. At the same time, I need to get a new SU card, as the last time I remember having my current one was December in Nottingham, and it may still be there, or, worse, lost along with some shower gel and part of a razor on the train from Stansted. I can't find it, and there are a few events in the next few weeks I'll need it for, hence I ought to buy a new one, nevermind the cost for replacements. One reason this is pressing is that there's a General Meeting tonight, which I'm supposed to be at, and need an SU card for. The GM also means I will not be able to spend the evening in the library as I had hoped.

Better still, we've just been notified by the landlord that our house is too messy and putting off potential tenants for next year. Apparently an estate agent was quite cross about it. The communal spaces, the parts he moaned about, aren't at all bad in our house right now: they're far from neat and tidy, but this is a working student house. There is another problem with the estate agent: one turned up without warning one evening and surprised us all, looking around a house that was barely cleaned at all. We set about cleaning it for the next group, who we were told were coming at 2pm, 3pm and 5pm. One group arrived at 2:15pm, in the middle of us engaging in further cleaning following the 2pm-no-show. Just as they left, and we were about to finish the job, the next estate agent turned up. A final group appeared at 6pm. Hardly keeping to the times they claimed, so they don't really have the right to claim we were given fair warning.

As such, I'll now have to rush home after Film to help the mass tidy, have dinner at the same time, then rush back to campus for the GM. The landlord is coming at 9pm to evaluate the house, and we have another group arriving tomorrow apparently. I'm getting very sick of this very quickly. They'll be here at 2pm, so I'm expecting them at 1pm, 3pm or something silly, because estate agents don't believe in punctuality. In the meantime, we'll be deconstructing the house and hiding stuff in the shed simply as having it anywhere else would mean a less-than-pristine household. I hope the group I showed around last week, when the house was nice and clean, decide to take the house, so we can stop having our already-chaotic lives tarnished by external examinations.

Oh, and next door keep playing techno music loud enough to shake the walls. On Sunday night, they did this from 1am to 4am. We were not at all amused.

I get the increasingly-strong feeling of trying to build a vertical pillar out of dry sand. Gragh.

Urgh, why do so many guys not wash their hands after going to the toilet?

It's wet and horrid today, and even with an umbrella, my jeans are getting soaked. It's downright miserable, although it makes being indoors at home a lot cosier. What makes things worse, however, is that my shoes, new ones bought just before Christmas, have both come undone at the back, so water seeps into the sole with each step I take on a wet pavement, and my socks are now squelchy. All my other pairs of shoes are still in Nottingham, so I'm stuck squelching for the time being. At least I won't be walking much more today. After German, I'm going straight home and staying there. I'll need to be home anyhow, as we have people coming to look at the house (we have a 'To let' sign up now, it's most unsettling) and I need to tidy up the area around my room before I incur the wrath of the estate agents.

Yesterday, my briefcase strap suddenly came undone as it often does, and it went crashing to the pavement, sending me half-with it. Some girl found it hilarious. I was not amused, and swore at her in return. I regret it now, but I had had a stressful morning, and, well, now and again it's good to let your tensions out.

My loan finally come through after a few months of pointless bureaucracy on the part of Nottingham City Council. I think it did, anyhow, but I just paid a quarter of the year's rent, so I still have little cash in my account. No job either, as Sainsbury's apparently only wanted me for before Christmas, and as their only two training days overlapped with the only two evenings I had lectures in, they told me to wait until 2007. So...back to square one, then. I do believe I am yet to get the loan for this semester, however, otherwise I'm not going to make it to April in the clear...

Musically, I'm not listening to Virgin as much now. I have less time to, for one thing, and I'm also getting tired of their usual playlist, especially those songs that are played every two hours or so which I don't particularly like. Classic FM goes better with the early mornings, hence my rediscovery of the current music, but I've also listened to Wir sind Helden a fair few times. On another note, I spent several hours of last night watching the first series of 'Allo 'Allo, which has made me all nostalgic for classic sitcoms, especially given what passes for comedy on TV these days. Ah well.

I wasted a fair few hours of Tuesday morning through a dream I had just afore awakening. It featured an alternate world, and was moving enough to leave me thoroughly confused for an hour or so. I remember trying to go to Hazel, but there was an entirely different house there. We somehow befriended a family living nearby, and a girl about my age (who might even have been my alternate, who knows) explained to us the basics of her world, with a fair degree of amusement and amazement. I remember fairly little apart from a map, showing the 'English Empire', which covered most of Great Britain and Ireland (although not Cornwall and Somerset), all of France aside from the part South of Bordeaux and Lyon, and Northern Germany up until Usedom and Stettin, where the other superpower of Europe began, the USSR, which also possessed the whole Baltic coast of Sweden. It was most odd, but there was a lot more to that world, hence the later confusion. Alas, however, as I don't remember very much else.

...okay, so that last entry wasn't typed up on Saturday, but it may as well have, because the focus has changed since that night. For the past 30 hours, Campus has been deluged with Freshers.

That feels so odd. We're Second Years. That much is clear, for we've got a lot of work to do with the courses we're signed up for. I'm not going to post my timetable, yet, as German haven't released theirs, and if there is a clash with them and History, German wins, so even the few History courses I have scheduled are subject to change, however unlikely that may be. I've various work to do for the various SU groups I'm involved in. I'm used to Holloway now, even though I've so much more to come, and I quite simply cannot put myself back into that Fresher mindframe. It was like an emotional overdose, a frantic blur of opportunity and confusion. Welcome to Williamson, to German, to Holloway, to the SU. What subject do you study? I gave everyone in Williamson a biscuit on that first night. I doubt many remembered after a few weeks. The mood didn't last for long, but it was in constant transition as we were transformed from Freshers to Hollowegians.

I've not been onto Campus since Friday. In fact, I've done very little since Friday. Attempts to match the sleeping pattern failed, and backfired to leave me exhausted until midday both today and Saturday. There was some drama on the Saturday, at least: after noticing a helicopter had been circling the Hazel vicinity for an hour, I went outside to see if I could work out what was going on, and immediately saw a load of police cars at the end of the road. As I approached, the news spread that it was all okay: a local child, who rides his bike everywhere and always says hello (he's so sweet) went missing, but was found to be hiding at 'Clare's house'. Seeing the police gave me a bit of shock, though. I wonder if any Freshers were bemused at their first few minutes at Holloway having a police helicopter hovering nearby?

So, it's a time for nostalgia. I didn't have time for internet in my Fresher's week, and my few updates were bitty and confused, but so are my memories. I remember the first night, the lasagne and pantry talks, and I remember listening to the college radio as we came onto Campus for the first time. I listened to it again on Saturday. I still think hardly anyone listens. I remember the excitement, the new faces, the flurry of Second Years moving into positions to meet and greet the newbies, and to join the Classics society!. Anime were dressed up as State Alchemists, whilst emilyhannon wore a Dirndl to promote German. That was Fresher's Fayre...we've got that to come, on the flip side. I'll probably be on three stalls over the two days, and rushed off my socks, to be sure. We'll see. I remember departmental parties, and the buzz of beckoning new courses, and my own dilemma whether or not to lessen the German part of my course (I was right in not doing so). I remember pudding_dragon, unfathomableone, datfay and caughtbydogs. zeibura_kathau came to visit sometime towards the end of the Fresher's period, after we'd ran when someone put 'Bat Out of Hell' on the Jukebox three times in sucession.

It's a week for making memories, and a week for remembering them. Life at Hazel House is hardly any different, however...well, this is Second Year. I'll be 20 this year, and that's a scarier age than 19. I hated the idea of having to go to Holloway. Well, as I setttled with myself further on, it is what happened, and that's the way it is. It's not so bad, and fate is subjective, or so it feels as I walk across Campus, seeing the Heathrow Control Tower winking at me on the skyline.

I've got Virgin Radio on again. They're playing pretty much the same tunes as before, and I love them all. I'm a social person, but I do like this peace with the night, half-light, warm drink and music...it's just turned to 'Handbags & Gladrags'. I'll have to find out who this DJ is, methinks. Not that he'll ever play One Winged Angel...speaking of which...

If I were here at 1:02, I think I'd scream myself unconscious. I love the game, as I'm increasingly realising, and Final Fantasy music is one of the few things I claim to be truly geeky about. Oh, 1:02, you win. I cried the first three times I watched that.

This is Jonjo, this year's Accommodation Exec. Aside from being quite pretty, does he remind you of anyone? I believe I almost shouted when I saw him at a GM in May.

We had an adventure last night, of sorts. Holly was still feeling very unwell, even though she'd been getting better earlier (hence me showing her Haunted Junction on video), so I told Viv and Anna to call NHS Direct as I finished fixing up dinner. Their eventual advice was to take her to the nearest A&E, so we all bundled out to Anna's car at 11:30, with me taking as much of the freshly-cooked dinner as possible, including a saucepan of lentils. I was also trying to figure out where the nearest hospital was, and how to get there, and we eventually went to St. Peter's Runnymede Hospital in Chertsey, having taken a convient backroad there from Virginia Water station. The hospital was built in such a way that, after dropping Holly and Viv off at A&E, we had to walk four sides of a pentagon to get from the car park back to A&E. It didn't help that the hospital was well-lit, but devoid of people, and that it resembled a WW2-era barracks. Then we had to wait for half an hour before Viv told us what was going on, and half an hour later, we were on our way back.

Holly's okay. It's just a very bad migraine, and she had new medication, so we're all hoping that will work! I was the only one to end up eating the lentils, however, so I'll do a new batch for tonight to make up for it. Ahh, I do love cooking, provided it involves seasonings. I am the Queen of Seasonings! Actually, I just have a load of herbs and spices...

Anna spends her days sitting in room listening to showtunes and writing slashy Potterfic. I'm sure she'll fit in fine here. Helen has gone off on a canal trip from London to Leighton Buzzard and back, which is leaving things a little late for term (Fresher's week is but 8 days away! *dies*). Brian has just arrived, having taken his family with him from Kings Lynn, but in terms of moving in, the gang's all here. It's different from how it was over the Summer, but it's nice. There are people there, and we help each other. We're in for a good year. Cooking for everyone is difficult though, even when Brian sorts out his own meals. This is a house of fussy eaters!

I'm feeling somewhat isolated again, although the problem is almost the opposite this time. The internet is back, along with the phone line, which may have had something to do with putting money on my phone card on Sunday. It's a relief to be reconnected, but it's ringing somewhat hollow right now.

I've been here since mid-July, and whilst part of me realises that has been a long time, I still felt this Hazel life was something I was still adapting to. That may well be so: as Holly said, I've become more independent. What has really brought home how this has been home is the fact that Holly has gone home for a few days.

I'm alone.

For all my writing about change, I am easily affected by it, and a routine which built up between Holly and I over these past months required the Holly part. This rang as I began to prepare dinner. For once, I was cooking simply for myself, and I had no-one to talk to whilst simmering the peas. We usually had dinner with a CD accompaniment, and whilst I currently have an Enya CD playing ('China Roses' fits quite well with the general mood), I'm going to put on a DVD whilst eating dinner, because I only have myself to talk to, and I'm all too used to their voice.

Of course, in a matter of weeks, the house will be full, and we'll all have Uni things going on again. The Summer routine has to come to an end sometime, and whilst last year, I felt quite glad to be free of passive depression, I feel more akin to the Summer of '03, where life was generally kind and every evening was a gateway to the stars.

September is meant to be this, though. It marks the end of Summer, and until last year, marked the return to the school with all the associated pagentry: the clarity of new exercise books, the smell of freshly-bought stationary, the easing back into the school routine with new classes and new teachers. Holloway is a little like that, but it's a faded black-and-white copy of the original, and with all the extra work I'm doing, it won't even be an easing back to the routine.

I may not be shuffling in a duffel coat under reddening leaves towards school gates, but the season of change is upon us. It's renewal: the old dies, the new is born. For tonight, however, I don't want to let go of the old, and I shall smile sadly as I think about the Summer which is now passing away. The days of Phantom Brave and hours in the Computer Centre, the late-night watching of Full Metal Alchemist with bowls of ice cream, the adaption to house-life...it's a marker point.

I'll be heading home myself at the end of the week, briefly.

Time is a stealthy thing.

I'll write more after dinner, methinks. I feel retrospective tonight.

(following on from last update)

The approach was fun, as the blaze of light contrasted strongly with the dark of the green and the surrounding woodland. Once there, it was almost surreal, as it was a fair in the traditional sense, lacking the Ghost Trains and small-scale theme park rides of the common funfair. There was a coconut shy, a stall selling toffee apples and candyfloss (cotton candy), three carousels and a hall holding a number of vintage coin machines. A hook-a-duck stand, a large steam engine and a few fast food booths completed the atmosphere. With the lights in the dark, the smoky air (steam, in this case) and the smell of hot dogs smothered in brown sauce, it felt like a night in mid-Autumn, and the firework display only helped cement the November ambience.

With my camera in hand, worries were forgotten in lieu of gaining good photographs, and enjoying the light show with the mix of barrel organs and Elvis Presley songs. The firework display was nothing special, but it was free, in early September, and very pretty nonetheless. My hair got stuck to Viv’s toffee apple, causing trouble for us both, but I noticed when offered some quite how things had changed since the funfairs of my past. I used to eat the toffee off the toffee apples and then struggle to get past the apple skin before giving up. Now, I can bite through the toffee, and the skin, into the apple, and it works much better. Yum. Holly, meanwhile, was blowing bubbles and bouncing balloons with prizes won on the hook-a-duck (is it the duck that is hooked, or is it you?). Without actually spending any money, I had a really fun time, as did Viv and Holly, which was fantastic. I have plenty of photos to remember the light show by, as well.

( Student Houses )

On that vaguely Shakespearean note, I’ll leave you there with two quotes I recently overhead. The first is from a young boy in Windsor, and the second…well, I won’t embarrass them.

‘What’s the webpage for the internet, again?’

‘It’s about fifty-fifty. No, wait, not that, it’s the other way round!’

There's a mini-spider crawling up and down my mirror. At intervals, he will appear to glow due to the position of my desklamp. He's been doing this for quite a while, too. With this and the spider outside our kitchen window, I'm beginning to wander how used to the l'il arachnids I'm going to become.

I'm listening to soft piano music. The half-light from the lamp (and, occassionaly, the spider) makes me feel somewhat cultured. Now I just need a clever novel and a cappuchino. Never mind the fact that I really ought to be in bed soon, that I have no clever novel in gatherable distance, and that the piano music is mostly from Nintendo video-games. It's the mood that counts.

Actually, I was listening to Classic FM on the way to and from church yesterday. This, along with the bright blue skies, mellowing emerald trees and the actual fact I was on the move, allowed my thoughts to really wander. I realised how stagnant I've become, living out each day much like the last, and not doing anything constructive or especially self-rewarding, and how I need to find some way to stop this. I thought of what I could do, who I could be and what my future held. I'll elaborate some other time, maybe.

Term is getting very close. Where did August go? I've spent so long in this house, along with Holly, that readjustment will be somewhat jarring. The signs are still minor at this point, with a few more Hollowegians around, and a few deadlines for Orbital-related articles creeping into my weekly schedule. I can't say I've really used the Summer productively, having not done anything notable outside of Amecon. I didn't have a job, again, although hopefully we'll catch one as the sixth-formers depart over the next week or so. I'm beginning to have to look at reading lists, and ponder what this next academic year will hold...

I had a dream that I set up and ran an airline company, although it was all very arty, emotionally-driven and abstract. It was quite odd.

Okay, I'll go and sleep now. It's all too easy to sleep these days, but I'm supposed to be up before 11, so staying up and making a less-abstract update is a little pointless. I've still got much to say...

There was a spider the size of my wrist waiting for me in the shower (in my room) yesterday afternoon. I undertook an escape mission to get him out of my room alive, and succeeded, although another small spider kept trying to crawl into the showerwater during my shower, requiring some constructive use of the shower curtain to keep him away. We have spiders aplenty down here! Still, I felt much better after my shower, and it's amazing what freshly-washed hair can do to one's self-esteem.

Washing up to the Loituma song can almost be fun, especially if you can co-ordinate your cleaning! Rather more aggravating is taking apart an old PS2, when you're unable to get the screws loose, and when the whole process may not work anyhow. We went to get some screwdrivers and other cleaning tools yesterday, but were perplexed by the local hardware store, and ended up getting a jewelry screwdriver kit featuring a screwdriver slightly too big for the PS2 screws, and one slightly too small. It also looked as if it was going to rain, and on the way back, we came across a recently-discarded pram in the undergrowth that was playing 'My Favourite Things' from 'The Sound of Music' over and over again to the weeds and bees of the verge. It was creepy, yes, but also very tragic, and I found something very distressing about the whole scene...*sigh*

The Fullmetal Alchemist OVAs have been entertaining us in the meantime, although we're still to see the Kids one, which I know will have the greatest impact on me, if I link it to the closing song of the movie, 'Lost Heaven' by L'Arc~en~ciel. L'Arc are a band I've come to gradually love. I first knew of them after I embraced the G.T.O 1st opening theme, 'Driver's High', and somehow found a copy of 'Neo Universe'. Someone at NAMSoc kindly gave me a CD containing all of their greatest hits, but it vanished after one play, never to be seen again. Since then, I've enjoyed any of their songs I've come across, with 'Ready Steady Go' being an obvious example. I bought one of their CDs, 'ark', at Amecon, which was being sold for only £6, and I love it. Not only because I now legitimately own Driver's High, but because of the 'dream music' feel to much of the album, which we nearly always use as accompaniment for our evening meals.

'Lost Heaven' is a typically melodic L'arc song from their most recent album, and it sums up feelings generated from the Fullmetal ethos either side of the movie. This may thus be slightly spoilery, but it's not going to deal in specifics.

( Heaven is lost...Hell is lost...All is lost, in the end. Change is constant. )

The house currently smells of bleach, yum. At least someone finally came to tidy up our lawns, after waiting a month. Furthermore, pasta in a homemade sauce can be unintentionally delicious.

I'm going to throw a few links out now, not because I can't be bothered to do an update, but because the links do that for me...sort of...

Textual

Urban Planning Article - This BBC article, and the associated comments, actually give me some hope that the world can wake up to how vital integrated public transport networks actually are. Rail for the win!

Wikipedia Disagreements - The article on my former school was falling apart after a year of neglect, so I tidied it up somewhat a month ago. Someone has now come along, claiming the school are selective liars who send out a false reputation. This is rubbish, but I suspect my corrections will be undone due to my bias in having come from the school. Wikipedia, eh?

Visual (Photographs)

I've uploaded my photographs from Amecon and directly beforehand to Facebook. I realise only a select few of you have Facebook accounts, but it should allow access to anyone if I tell it to. If you have trouble viewing the following galleries, just let me know.

Hazel House Gallery - Photos of our house as it was a few weeks ago, and some of the surrounding area

July Days - General photographs from July and early August. There are a lot of sunset photographs, as well as some of my Great Grandfather's naval log.

AMECON General - The non-cosplay photographs from Amecon, including a few of the journey there. Furthermore, who'd have thought a Dalek could dance so well?

AMECON Cosplay - The photographs from the Masquerade and general cosplay photographs.

An 'August Days' gallery featuring an update on house photos, as well as the Long Windsor Walk, will appear sometime within the next 24 hours as well.

Okay then...now for toast!

AMECON! We'll be leaving in around half an hour's time, and it will be fun. Yes, it really will! It'll be odd to actually leave Hazel House now, however, as I've really aclimatised to this place. Internet is still being tempremental, although currently, it's my laptop which is the only one able to go online, hence actually updating from my own computer for the first time in about a year. Woo! It also provided impetus to get out of bed early this morning, and I really feel quite relaxed and bright. I blame the shower, the excitement of Amecon, and the internet (with the music gained from it, case in point being the current music).

In the shower this morning, as I was enveloped in a cloud of lemon tang (new shower gel^^), I had a story idea I adore, and which I think has great potential, yet has a relatively simple core concept. I mentioned a similar idea a while ago, but never developed it. It would feature a sort of collection of myths...a fairly-rich young man in the late Middle Ages has little idea of how he wants to spend his life. In a tavern, he meets this old man who, in exchange for a drink, decides to tell him a story, about when he was young, and got caught up in a travelling caravan. Said story is the main material of the book (the rest is metafiction^^), and covers a journey from London to Peking and back again. However, it will be full of mythology and fiction, such as the twin kingdoms of Xanadu and Shangri-La which he visits in the Himalaya, and his enchounter with Baba Yaga in deep Russian forest. There'd be a twist at the end as well, of course. The combination of travelog and myth should make writing it both fun and far less complex than the location-centric stories I've attempted before. We'll see.

Speaking of travel, The Matt Harding video always makes me cry. I can't help it...it's the combination of the music (Deep Forest = Love) and the realisation of 'The Greatest Show IS Earth' concept. I cry at the Michael Palin series, especially when they approach their end, and I always cry upon coming home after travel. Holly just walked in and found me crying over such a video cute^^;;; As I said, I can't help it...I'm just senti-mental. Maybe someday I could dance around the world...travel broadens the mind, as does music, and the combination...well, I'm glad there is such beauty out there to counter the realism of these days. I'll just go and get a tissue now...

Okay, off to finish packing!