I went home on Friday! My Mum had cooked a very nice curry and kept my Dad away from the rice as he always puts too much water in and ruins it; for this I am grateful. After the meal we all sat around listening to Pink Floyd and REM and The Postal Service and actually talked. My family has never been bad at communicating, but we very rarely spend Friday nights sitting around listening to records and talking. We also watched some obligatory Friday night T.V and it was very nice to be home despite the fact that my mother had taken it upon herself to clean my room and consequently nothing was where I left it two weeks ago. It was comforting to see that absolutely nothing has changed in terms of my father's strange behaviour, though. I do like experiencing new things but I also like the fact I have the familiar to fall back on to remind me who I am. Yes.
On Saturday I went shopping with my sister and we got some lunch and she told me that she's been participating in protests about the uniform policy at my old school, along with various parents who have been standing at the gates with signs reading "This is a school, not a boot camp". The entire student body went in minus their ties the other day, which is just excellent. The whole thing stems from a big "uniform clampdown" resulting in some year 10 boys being put in isolation for wearing white socks. There was an article in the free Manchester paper about it.
After I'd dropped my sister off at her dancing class I went into Manchester to meet Amy and we decided it would be a great idea to go to Weatherspoons for a few Gin and Tonics. After standing at the bar feeling very unsettled by the percentage of scary old men in there for what seemed like forever, we eventually got served and stood in a corner where we remained for 4 or 5 drinks. We then decided HMV was a great idea, but then realised that tipsy HMV shopping was not be a great idea as far as our bank accounts were concerned, so we left.
I stayed at Nick's on Saturday night which was much fun. I tried to draw a portrait of him but it looked like a cross between Jesus and the singer from Biffy Clyro. Oh dear. I stayed until 9pm last night at which point I had to leave to catch my coach in the wind and rain. Ended up looking like a twat outside Piccadilly Hotel having a rather heated fight with my umbrella. Decided that I would prefer to just get wet, so I did and sat on the coach listening to some horoscope thing on the radio feeling a bit miserable and cold. When I got to Leeds I had to wait about half an hour for a taxi in the rain which made me feel a bit more miserable.
I eventually got home and went to visit Kit and her new tattoo which is well fucking good. I then went to sleep.
My pet snail died unexplainably this weekend, R.I.P
50p just fell on to the floor and I have no idea where it came from. Oh my.
On Saturday I went shopping with my sister and we got some lunch and she told me that she's been participating in protests about the uniform policy at my old school, along with various parents who have been standing at the gates with signs reading "This is a school, not a boot camp". The entire student body went in minus their ties the other day, which is just excellent. The whole thing stems from a big "uniform clampdown" resulting in some year 10 boys being put in isolation for wearing white socks. There was an article in the free Manchester paper about it.
After I'd dropped my sister off at her dancing class I went into Manchester to meet Amy and we decided it would be a great idea to go to Weatherspoons for a few Gin and Tonics. After standing at the bar feeling very unsettled by the percentage of scary old men in there for what seemed like forever, we eventually got served and stood in a corner where we remained for 4 or 5 drinks. We then decided HMV was a great idea, but then realised that tipsy HMV shopping was not be a great idea as far as our bank accounts were concerned, so we left.
I stayed at Nick's on Saturday night which was much fun. I tried to draw a portrait of him but it looked like a cross between Jesus and the singer from Biffy Clyro. Oh dear. I stayed until 9pm last night at which point I had to leave to catch my coach in the wind and rain. Ended up looking like a twat outside Piccadilly Hotel having a rather heated fight with my umbrella. Decided that I would prefer to just get wet, so I did and sat on the coach listening to some horoscope thing on the radio feeling a bit miserable and cold. When I got to Leeds I had to wait about half an hour for a taxi in the rain which made me feel a bit more miserable.
I eventually got home and went to visit Kit and her new tattoo which is well fucking good. I then went to sleep.
My pet snail died unexplainably this weekend, R.I.P
50p just fell on to the floor and I have no idea where it came from. Oh my.
india:
Aw poor snail 