i came home from university today, earlier than expected. due to the positioning of easter this year, the university has scheduled the first week of the summer term immediately after the last week of the winter term, so technically today was the start of the summer term. however, all the lectures in the summer term are revision sessions for the end of year exams. in a rare act of sound reasoning, all my lecturers decided there was no point having revision sessions this week two months before the actual exams, so have moved them to when we return. which left with me with sweet fuck all to do this week, especially since absolutely killing myself over my essays meant i finished them a fortnight ago and handed them in way before time.
so i decided to come home. i was planing to come home on wednesday because i’m see God’s Favourite Band Deerhunter, but i honestly couldn’t see what i would gain from sticking at university since i’m so miserable there pretty much all the time. this past weekend is a prime example - before going to bed last night i realised i hadn’t spoken to anyone since the friday lunchtime, not even a polite “hello”, a realisation which prevented me falling asleep until about 4am. (instead i went online and watched this video about 19 times in a row). indeed, this past weekend just made me want to come running home even more.
of course, the grass is always greener on the other side. after getting into the centre of manchester and enjoying a subway sandwich in picadilly gardens i went to meet my mother at work. as i got caught up on “everything” it seems my family life has turned into some sort of jonathan frazen novel: i have returned dispirited from university, my older sister is coming home this weekend after breaking up with her boyfriend and may indeed be quitting her job to move back here full-time, my father’s health is worsening (nothing too serious, touch wood, but his eyes, teeth and eyes all seem to failing) and my mother….well, you never know with your mother, do you?
i’m being over-dramatic here, of course; it is nice to think of family as being incredibily dramatic, the stuff of great fiction, when in reality these are just the little pieces of the everyday. which is strange because my other conception of home is one of great stability and calm. what makes the whole thing even weirder is it is hardly like university is proving incredibly exciting and too dramatic; the opposite is true. yet for some reason i was looking forward to the prospect of being bored in a whole different postcode, just because this is home and everywhere else is not. and the merest little bit of drama i’m already blowing up in my mind.
i dunno; someone smarter than me should read that past paragraph and try to “saying something”.
but being home does have one advantage: there is usually someone i can play tennis with. tennis is one of the few sports i partake in, probably also because it is the one sport i can actually play reasonably well. i had only been home about a few hours before i was out on the courts; indeed, calculating in my head i think i’ve spent more time today out on the courts than actually home.
the reason i could do so was because we are now in british summer time, a concept i’ve never been comfortable with, as much as i’ve often reaped the benefits of an extra hour of sunlight. maybe it goes back to that need for stability, but the fact that because someone decided so in 1916 we have to surrender a whole hour at the end of march really does not sit right with me. every time we have to move the clocks i always end up in a mental maze of trying to figure what “time” is, if we can change it just because….well, just because. just as a concept the whole thing never fails to annoy and confuse me.
but, hey, what doesn’t?
today my university had its “campus festival”, which culminated with a fireworks display whilst the rest of the day was filled up with the various different performance societies performing.
i was quite looking forward to it, which is a bit of a difference from my usual stance on “uni stuff”. but i’ve been super busy with essays (still am) and also haven’t been home for a fortnight now and I’m not going home for another week-and-a-half and there is literally nothing to do on campus and the club stuff in town is proper student-y, and i’m a not a fan of, like, Revs or whatever. i spend most of my nights at uni in my room either doing work or watching dvds or whatever because i’m not close with my flatemates or, well, anyone here. so, yeah, i was looking forward to the fireworks because it was actually something.
this afternoon i decided to walk into town and invited one of my flatmates and, to my surprise, he agreed and then as we were leaving the flat one of my other flatmates said she was going to check out the “campus festival” and it was on the way so the three of us went and looked around and there was a brass band and then we watched the “belly dancing society” do a dance to a linkin park song which was weird and all the while i couldnt stop thinking how little i actually knew these two people despite the fact we’ve essentially been living together all school year. that feeling only intensified when i went into town with one of my flatmates and i really struggled to find conversation and, to be honest, found him a little annoying and im incredibly bad at hiding that stuff.
skip forward to this evening and i head out to see the fireworks and its me and the flatmate i went into town with and things are even more awkward than before and then as we are waiting for the fireworks to start i decide to talk about the one thing i know we actually have in common: our flatmates. and we start gossiping. and its pretty awful. and im the one saying the worst stuff.
and the thing is, ive done this before. and i always feel shitty about it. i really hate talking behind peoples’ backs; always have done. and yet and yet and yet i increasingly find its the only way i can actually communicate with people because thats how little i find i have in common with people here. that has probably been the worst part of going to university (and overall its not been an experience i’d recommend) - i feel so different from everyone i’ve come across, in almost every way. its not just like i listen to different music or watch different films or whatever; i swear nobody on this fucking campus sees the world i do. and when i feel so different, the only ways i can actually communicate with people seem like lies, like i’m pretending - to gossip about people, or pretend i give a shit about stuff i don’t. this isn’t exactly an original situation for me - this kind of isolation shaded all my time at school, but i still managed to make friends whilst still being myself. i don’t know if can say that about my time at university; i have made friends, but i never really feel like myself with them.
but, hey, i can choose to focus on all the loneliness and general feeling i’m wasting my life here and my lack of direction and the supermoon-sized fear i have of having to face “the future” soon (jesusfuckingcrisisigraduateinfourfuckingmonthswhatthefuck), or i can focus on the cool stuff, however occasional it is. and fireworks? they’re cool.
pseudocolor said: I’ve never heard of this umm, sub-genre I suppose, of films, but it definitely looks interesting. Is there any specific film you would suggest?
I’m no expert on the Mumblecore - mainly due to the fact most of them have zero distribution, at least to outside the US - but from the ones I’ve seen I’d suggest Funny Ha Ha which has an amazing performance from Kate Dollenmayer and is one of my favourite films ever. It is also like the first/proto-typical Mumblecore film so guess a good place to start as ever.
(Or you could go all the way back to Richard Linklater’s Slacker, which is also one of my favourite films and a pretty obvious influence on all these films).
Also recommended are The Puffy Chair and Aaron Katz’s two Mumblecore films, Dance Party USA and Quiet City.
If anyone has any links where I can watch/download more I’d really appreciate it, btw.
i have hummus, bread sticks, tap water, a stack of mumblecore dvds and a vague sense i’m wasting my life
i really should not watch twenty-four hour news
it terrifies me
“Angles” - The Strokes
Kinda like the last Radiohead album, I feel compelled to comment on The Strokes’ latest full-length because of their supposed importance. But whilst I’m sure a lot of people would agree a new Radiohead album is worth listening to and discussing, you have to ask yourself “Do I really care about The Strokes in 2011?”. After all, The Strokes’ story has been repeated to death by now - they came out fully formed, caused ripples still being felt today, followed their debut up with a weaker second effort, followed that up with would could be generously described as the misguided First Impressions of Earth and then descended into mediocre solo and side projects with the vibe of people who didn’t want to work together ever again. Do we really want another chapter in The Strokes’ story?
I noticed in my feed several people sharing about odd dreams they’ve had recently, so I thought I’d share some of mine. Lately I’ve been having a very weird series of dreams which all feature film actresses. None of them have been sexual in any way and in each case I’ve seen either very few or no films with them in. I tend to remember my dreams like they’re films I watched whilst quite tired and/or have only read the Wikipedia pages of, so they have varying levels of detail.
all of them
After being followed by someone who shows a clear interest in young adult fiction, it has occurred to me I have no idea why I choose the URL I have; I have no interest in “young-adult fiction”.
We don’t even use that term in the UK. (As ever, I speak almost entirely in Americanisms, hip-hop slang and anachronisms.)
I do find it an interesting term; the juxtaposition between young and adult. That idea plays a lot on my mind - which should be fairly fucking obvious judging on the type of stuff I post - and whilst I’m not expert on those types of novels I do find it interesting how a lot of them contain material a lot more provocative than a lot of stuff geared towards non-young adults.
But, yeah, I’m not going to start reviewing Judy Blume books any time soon.
*loses every follower*
There is no purer love than that for an attractive stranger you see on public transport who just happens to be reading a book by your favourite author