This is the year of the party crasher

Or the week of the party crasher at least. The ETID tour is upon me and I'm rather excited. Whilst I know that I will have to leave early tomorrow to get the last train back to LDN, the time that I spend at the show will be worth every penny spent on the ticket and train fare. Besides, I have no such pressing matters to deal with at the Nottingham, Manchester or Oxford shows, so really I can't complain.

I got my Leeds ticket, along with Jennie, Emily and him. It should be a brilliant weekend, some good music, a lot of alcohol and the best of best friends. The only way it could be improved right now is if the obsession are added to the bill as I predict they will be. Now all I need to do is find a job or two and my summer will be perfect.

Although I may have a reason to spend more time in London than initially expected. For the moment, I don't know. I like to hope I will, but these things are out of my hands.

I don't dream since I quit sleeping

I'm not sure why I'm awake. I feel tired, yet when I try to sleep it just doesn't happen. I don't know what's going on. I'll put it down to my body getting up to it's usual trick of doing exactly the opposite of what I want it to. Pesky nuisance.

I didn't do much today. It was exactly how Sundays are meant to be. I went to the library briefly to pick up a pile of books covering three of my essays. I wrote rough essay plans and read a little. I watched yet more Heroes and sewed. I cooked. Whilst it was relaxing in the extreme, which is exactly what I need before a week as chaotic as this one will be, I couldn't help but feel the lack of human contact. Even MSN didn't offer much today by comparison to other days. Sometimes my life is quite depressing.

Tomorrow, or today as I suppose it really is now, I have little to be excited about. Work and Senate House, then home to buy my Leeds festival ticket if all goes to plan. Not that I can really afford it, but the lineup has the potential to be stunning and I'll only regret it if I don't buy a ticket now. If the worst happens I can always sell it. I'm not quite sure what "the worst" would be in this case. I hope it wouldn't involve a loss of limbs or motor functions.

ETID in 2 days. It promises to be a lively week.

I'm having nightmares all the time...

...of running out of words that rhyme.
It's amazing how much my outlook has changed even since my last post. The week certainly began well, and it's only got better. I'll take it chronologically, for fear of incoherence.

Tuesday. I met Adam on a very rainy day in Starbucks, late for once. We talked history, MAs, pretentiousness and alcohol. I don't think I've ever felt more like a student. We get on so well that it's really a shame to think that he and Kirsty don't get along at all. Well, Kirsty doesn't get along with him. He has no such quarrel with her. I got on the coach and enjoyed Boswell's London Journal until the driver turned the reading lights off. I napped and thought of what the week could possibly bring.

On Wednesday I waited around all day for the uni best friend to wake up. The girl can sleep for England, and our plans to visit the IWM had to be postponed for a day when I shall inevitably have to jump on her bed to get her up. We ate stir fry and gossiped, and realised exactly what it is that makes our visits home so disappointing. The differences between our university lives and our home lives is becoming greater, and now that we actually enjoy our time in London, it's hard to be truly happy anywhere else. This bodes ill for the summer, but I plan to distract myself in many ways. We spent the evening in the pub with other friends from work, talking about things which didn't matter and generally being friendly. How I've changed over the last few months. I left to go home, and was infinitely buoyed by a text from my darling Lauren about my obsession. They're returning. The excitement was dulled slightly by Theresa warning us that the band hadn't actually made a decision, but this was just a temporary dull.

Thursday began routinely. I went to work, read the new Cub and spoke to friends. A text to the boy intended to just make us friendly again led to us agreeing to a night in watching The Cable Guy. Whilst I hate to admit that he's right about anything, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. And what happened whilst it was on. A second chance is a grand thing and it was thoroughly unexpected. We'll take it slowly this time, allow ourselves the chance to be sure and hopefully things will go according to plan. We stayed up late talking, teasing, laughing. We took a late night trip to Tesco and watched Arrested Development.

Friday I left in his car, went to the station and headed home with a smile on my face. Life is good. My lecture was routine, I dazzled without having done any preparation, which is always a pleasant feeling. I looked over third year courses, and whilst I'm underwhelmed for the most part, I can't help thinking that there's definitely potential in some of them. We'll see. I spent the evening watching Heroes and ignoring the many other things I should be doing.

I awoke today to confirmation of the obsession's return. I dragged myself out of the house to spend an unpleasantly large amount of money on a ticket for the return and came back. I'll spend my evening watching Heroes once again, and reading. If I can finish the reading I have left over from this semester I'll be ready to make a start on my essays. I'm going to the library on Monday (which I said I'd do today and obviously didn't), and that way I'll be able to read some fascinating criticism on my travels this week. Every Time I Die call, and I shall answer. Repeatedly.

For the rest of the week I'll be everywhere but here, whilst the boy is elsewhere and my lectures draw to a close. The end of second year approaches, and I'm terrified.

Where are you, my little needle?

Not a song about drugs, as we so often assume, but one about finding your true love. Your needle in a haystack. Sometimes even Skiba has a romantic side, and I've never loved Goddamnit! more than I do right now. I should maybe feel depressed that a re-release of a CD has the ability to work wonders on my psyche, yet it does. My favourite album of all time, by the band that make my life worthwhile and have never truly let me down. A DVD bonus disc with everything I could ever need. Obsessive, it's true, but I feel close enough to them to love them, yet far enough away to never get hurt. Maybe that's the attitude I should take to those around me as well.

I visited the family like a dutiful daughter/granddaughter/niece/cousin. It was relaxing, in a somehow claustrophobic way. I gossiped with Jemma and got excited about Good Charlotte, I ate chocolate and I finally got the meat and potato pie I've been craving for weeks. Sometimes I really am entirely too Northern.

I came home, booked trains for my upcoming week of fun, discussed MAs and made plans for a covert meeting with an enemy of my best friend. Tomorrow should be an interesting day at least.

A phone call from a good friend this morning made me smile, even if we only talked about a course we both take and a boy we both know who I did a silly thing with. Well, a marginally silly thing. I certainly did worse things last week, but I doubt I'll be telling the good friend about that. I'm looking forward to going back to London with a new lease of life, working hard for a week and partying my heart out with my second favourite band next week. The pub on Wednesday seems ever more likely, as the good friend and I have unfinished business to attend to in the form of...forms.

A few days at home and I feel completely changed. I can start over once again, ignore the past to a certain degree and approach new situations with positivity, albeit in the form of emotional distance and a large amount of cynicism. I was never an optimist, and I don't plan to begin now, but the best way to avoid being hurt is to hide behind a mask. He knows that, and now so do I.

If I kiss you where it's sore, will you feel better?

Will you feel anything at all?

Today I have kept myself inconceivably busy. I went for a walk with mother and her partner, who is yet again pretending I don't exist. Brenda, Khal and Rebecca were there to distract all of our attentions, which was nice. I had dinner at Nan's, which is always a treat. I saw Kirsty, and even though all we did was plan our holiday and laugh at Trio videos, she lifted my heart that little bit more. The poor girl has had a lot to deal with from me over the years, yet we've never fought. I don't think I could possibly love her more if I tried.

I saw 10,000 B.C with mother and partner. Whilst I was entirely sceptical about the entire premise, I found myself quite enjoying it by the end. Not the sort of film I'd watch more than once I think, but not too bad. I've certainly seen worse films.

Tomorrow we visit the family. Not my favourite thing to do, but I hardly ever see them and I feel I should make an appearance. It will also keep me busy, and that's what matters.

There's no place like home

I came home, and suddenly everything feels better. Interesting, coming from the girl who would have given anything to escape two years ago. Moving away changes your priorities, and now I realise that my parents do make me feel considerably better about everything. Whilst I wish I could explain exactly what it is that's making me low (my Dad doesn't seem to believe that it's just stress and the boy situation, and I have no doubt that he's right; Mum on the other hand is deliberately pretending that I just needed a bit of a break), I can't. Even if I could, I doubt I would. It's better for us all this way.

On the plus side, I read voraciously on the way home. Amanda 1 - Dickens 0

I think it's time I learnt not to care. Nothing good ever seems to come of anything I do, regardless of how pure my intentions are. I'll leave everyone to their mistakes, keep my opinions to myself, and create a new front to mask the true me that seems to have been inadvertantly peeping through the old front recently. No one cares who I really am or what I really think, so I may as well be someone else that they might possibly like.
That's the philosophy, right?

I did a freewrite on allpoetry. It's awful, but then any poem written in 5 minutes with my head in the state it's in with no attention to punctuation or eloquence is bound to be. It's to the point though, and right now that's what I need. Forcing myself to write on a given topic could be what saves me from a breakdown. Perhaps.

All the girls buy the enemy lines

Or maybe it's just me. I keep setting myself up for a fall, believing that there's something where there really isn't anything. I don't see why I should care so much about him, he's nothing special. He's not who I want or what I need. But every word he says that's so clearly aimed at me is carefully calculated to wear my self-respect down that little bit more. Clearly I made a huge mistake. I thought he was decent and vaguely trustworthy. I thought wrong. I tried to warn him, as a friend, about a huge mistake he's bound to make if given half a chance. Just because he's tortured me doesn't mean I want to see the same thing happen to him. But of course, I'm only doing this because I'm jealous he says. Whatever. I'll return to my promiscuity and try my hardest not to feel anything for anyone ever again. It's probably best.

I didn't win at Colours, and in all honesty I never expected to. Tonight made me realise many things about myself, and the fact that I want to be yet more involved in the SU next year was the smallest of these realisations by a long way.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

I'm all over you

I'm not over you.

Despite the fact that no one will read this, it feels somewhat more cathartic than my personal diary. My LJ has it's dedicated readers amongst some of my closest friends, yet this is just an electronic version of what I scribble to myself when I find a spare five minutes in which to do so. Somehow, because it could still be read by someone taking the vaguest interest in me, I find myself more eloquent and explanatory here. I should keep it up.

My stress levels have peaked over this last week, as I predicted they would do with the pressures of campaigning and maintaing a healthy front of normalcy which I would usually never do. I thought it was best not to alienate the voters with my usual surliness, and make some attempt at being sociable and friendly. Hopefully it worked, we'll see tomorrow.

Seventy Times Seven just came on WMP. A song with so many memories for me, and so many thoughts I could attach to its lyrics. I miss Woody. I miss the days when me and Alex were inseperable. I miss going to shows with Kirsty nearly every week. I miss the relatively carefree days of 2003 and 2004. But at the same time I'm looking forward and anticipating a life far less disastrous than I thought it would be. I've realised recently that, despite my apparent pessimism, I see hope somewhere in the distance. I just have to reach that little spot on the horizon.

The semester is nearly at an end, and with it the end of my second year looms ever closer. With nothing to concern me after the end of lectures but a pile of research essays which I'm almost looking forward to, I'm wondering exactly what it is I pay £3000 for. Cornelia is worth it I suppose, but it's still extortionate when our university can't even provide us with a particularly magnificent library. Admittedly, it's not as bad as I think it is, but by no means is it brilliant. If ULU leaves Senate House I'm not sure what I'll do. My grades will very definitely suffer.

So that leaves me with the coming week. Our split week begins on Thursday, which gives me a week in which to go home. Except I probably won't go home. If I can work for the agency I will, with a holiday to fund and the potential for a Trio tour becoming ever stronger. If I stay in London I can prepare for the Every Time I Die tour and finally get around to tidying my room properly. The disappearance of my necklace is very worrying, considering that everything which was around it is still there but the necklace is gone.

I'm planning to see The Lord of the Rings musical on Thursday. No doubt I will be incredibly disappointed by the way it is presented, and what I've heard of the music is distinctly underwhelming. But if I don't see it, I'll wish I did, and with it closing much earlier than intended I feel this may be my last chance.