Friday, September 29
Returning to college on Tuesday was something of a shock to the system, and I spent most of that evening planning on how to extract myself from the course. Rory talked some sense into me though, and, despite my reluctance, I went back on Wednesday too. Our project is about England and I have decided to look at the experiences of immigrants in England. First I need to find some. Luckily there's plenty near where I live. It's only a short brief, the deadline's in about three weeks, so there isn't much time to get too disenchanted with it all. This should hopefully ease me back into the routine of doing work again.
I'm aware that my blogging has become somewhat erratic, and my posts short and, most likely, dull. I think the lack of arsedness is sinking to an all time low. Don't really know what to do to correct it. Live a more exciting life, I suppose. Let's see if one turns up soon.
15:02
Thursday, September 21
Bad Things have been happening of late which have lead to me being quite depressed. It seems that there are some people in the Manifesta camp who object to me
not top-posting in my emails, something which astounds me, Rory, and all the people he works with, as he mentioned it to them. Nine years of writing email and now all of a sudden three people in a week take offence to my style! Their criticisms of me came across as being very personal, whether they were intended to be or not, and it deeply upset me. Things are on the road to being patched now, but there's still unresolved issues. When it all first happened, I was considering just abandoning Manifesta and Ladyfest, but Ali, who's known these people a lot longer than I have, promises me that it'll blow over and be forgotten about soon. I hope so.
College starts again next week. I'm looking forward to the routine and structure, though not the early mornings and having to do some work. Three months of doing nothing have turned me into a work-shy layabout. I suppose I always was one to some extent, the apathy has just been further ingrained during the summer. Maybe it's a case of having to get back into the swing of things? There certainly won't be much time to faff about with that, though. We enrol on Tuesday afternoon and get given two briefs immediately afterwards. The first is about England and they've sent us two essays to read as preparation. I've only read the first so far, it's the end chapter, the conclusion, from
Watching The English. But fuck me, it explains perfectly what's up with me, my social phobia, my inability to understand things from other people's points of view, my inability to do Small Talk, and so many other things. It's because
I am English.
The central 'core' of Englishness, social dis-ease is a shorthand term for all our chronic social inhibitions and handicaps. The English social dis-ease is a congenital disorder, bordering on a sort of sub-clinical combination of autism and agoraphobia (the politically correct euphemism would be 'socially challenged'). It is our lack of ease, discomfort and incompetence in the field (minefield) of social interaction; our embarrassment, insularity, awkwardness, perverse obliqueness, emotional constipation, fear of intimacy, and general inability to engage with other human beings. When we feel uncomfortable in social situations (that is, most of the time) we either become over-polite, buttoned up and awkwardly restrained or loud, loutish, crude, violent and generally obnoxious.
And if that doesn't describe me perfectly then nothing does.
09:25
Wednesday, September 13
Today I learnt that getting two labia piercings and your tattoo coloured at the same time is not a good idea. Normal people may realise this regardless of my insight. I wish I had been as lucky. Still, it's over with now. Well, if you don't count the pain in my arm and itchiness to come, and blood which seeps from my genitals any time I move. I already knew I was a masochist, but this is taking the piss slightly.
My trip to Belfast was fun, though not as eventful as originally planned. My plane was delayed by three and a half hours going there, meaning I didn't land until half past 10, get into bed until quarter past 11, and wake up until 11 or so the following morning. So we ditched our plans to go to Derry, Portrush and the Giant's Causeway and looked at photos of it online instead, whilst drinking vodka and being grateful for home comforts.
On the Friday we finally managed to make our trip to
Belfast Zoo. It's set in gorgeous surroundings, though far too much of those were hills. We managed to see
loads of animals, though there were no hodgehegs or meercats. The plentiful supply of penguins helped relift my spirits, however. The day after I turned 25, it's now downhill all the way to 30, and we went for a curry with Paddy, Jude, Ruthy and her bloke, Jake. Afterwards we decamped back to Rory's, where much vodka and wine was consumed, hugs were had, fondles were felt, and I went to bed two hours before everyone else. I'm definitely getting old.
21:13
