volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- wild, wild wales Bah. I’m so dozy at times. Here I am, sitting in and getting bored, without it ever occurring to me that I could do something worthwhile and actually update this thing. Just slap me upside the head etc etc So… what have I been up to, eh? Good question, the answer to which is: not a lot (please feel free to say that in your best Paul Daniels voice if it gives uyou pleasure to do so... or at least MARVEL at the fact that the man has his own website, if nothing else) OK. Here's the rundown: Being Here Being here hasn't been as much fun of late; the weather has been a bit shitty, and I've been feeling pretty isolated, not to mention a little mad for even dreaming to think that moving 70miles away from everyone I know and living in a caravan was ever a good idea. Fatboy's not too happy at school, which brings on the old maternal guilt, a kind of uneasiness that has particularly pervasive qualities. I'm trying to sort out stuff for him, but at the moment his school's attitude seems to be something along the lines of "Well, Ms V, YOU bred the damned freaky child, YOU sort him out!" which isn't helpful. Or comforting. Luckily I have the local bastion of school health, Dr Upa-I-can't-pronounce-the-rest-of-her-name, on my side, so fingers crossed (and beware the evil doctor in the sari if you're a teacher at Ysgol Fatboy*) Anyway, I woke up crying (something which I find disturbing, to be honest) on Tuesday morning, and told dear old George that I was ready to go home. Sensible old George gave me lots of cuddling and made me promise to give it at least six months. He's pretty good like that- before I came he kept reminding me that the decision wasn't irrevocable, and now I'm here he's pushing me a little bit more. Six months is doable, I reckon. People like my best friend (finally back on British soil- HUZZAH!) and this treasure have all done oodles to boost my resolve lots as well. It's just weird, y'know? I'm starting to get to know people, I have a handful of people here I might tentatively refer to as "friends"- although without attaching any of my OWN significance to the word- people who are a little more than acquaintances is probably the best way of describing them. And, of course, I've got Fatboy, who, despite his problems, is growing up to be one of the fabbest people I know. Witty, compassionate and full of a heightened sense of the ridiculous, he's excellent company. I took him to a ravey thing at the arts centre last night, and he loved it. He lasted until 11pm, drank so much J20 that he wet the bed, and sat enthralled by the sight of my belly-dancing teacher performing in all her glittery finery. I think he's in love, and I think I am too. You know when you first meet someone, and you just want to be them? That's what it's like. My teacher's gorgeous, and she really worked us yesterday. I was sweating cobs and today I ache all over, big style. My Egyptian circles and camel rolls are still a bit rusty, but I had a fantastic class... Work My course is actually really good. Despite the fact that I've spent today finishing off my Dr Faustus assignment, I'm enjoying it immensely. I'm feeling really stimulated. My European Film module is good, too, and I can talk about Spanish Surrealism and Luis Buñuel til the cows turn into lobsters (sorry, crap attempt at surrealist humour there). The writing class is going well, too. I've been getting very positive feedback from my peers- no formal assessment yet- which has been very encouraging. In fact, I'm so encouraged that I'm going to risk writing a poem this week, which is something I've never done before. I'll post it here to give you all a mid-week chuckle when I've written it. George ...may have to have a(nother) new pseudonym soon. In fact, I might even just use his name. Whatever. He's great. He came up to stay for four days last week, and we had a marvellous time. Lots of alcohol, talking, good tunes, hot sex and general all-round good loving were had by all. I'm totally smitten, to the point where I'm sleeping snuggled up to his fleece. Sad or what? Anyway, he's a good bloke, and so far my gut-instinct alarm-bell system has failed to find anything to tinkle about. Whether or not this means I'm totally blind, or that he's such a total psychopath that he's hidden all the warning signs so far, I couldn't tell you. Suffice to say he's been incredibly sweet, immensely supportive and on top of that he's a good chum to Fatboy, emailing him regularly and adding to the Global Fatboy Noise-Art-Terrorism Project by donating some new speakers and a sub-woofer to the cause, much to my delight. Not! And he's donated a Leftfield CD and this gorgeous book to the Keep Ms V Smiling campaign, so I feel nicely spoilt, too. And I think that's it, right now. Time flies, doesn't it? I've got 20mins to have a quick bath before Trees Lounge starts, so it's goodbye from me... *Ysgol is Welsh for school. See, you learnt something today. 11:40 p.m. - 26.10.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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