Wow. It's been an age since I've posted. And so so so much has changed in my life. I'm in Spain, and loving life out here. I mean, the fact that I've not posted is a good thing really - it's that I've been so busy having fun in my free time (rather than sitting around at home by muself, like I did last year) that I haven't got around to posting. Also, living with three other girls, it's kind of hard to get enough privacy to post. Cos I don't have internet in my room - we just have it in the living room, because we steal it from the shopping centre round the corner. Because we're awesome like that.

So anyway, I realise that I haven't really said much about my flatmates, aside from J (who I shall be referring to as JE to differentiate her from JA, the guy I like) that is. Me and her probably get on a bit less well that we did before, and less well than I get on with the other two. We don't argue or anything, don't get me wrong, we're on ok terms. I just don't think our personalities are that compatible really. She's the sort of person who only speaks to you when she needs something. But the other two are really nice. They're both Italians, but didn't know each other before coming here. One's a lot older; V, who's about 27 I think, and IDR, who's my age. IDR's really sweet, and very nice and well-meaning. She reminds me a lot of my cousin L. She likes reading, and doesn't go out much (as in go out partying that is), or didn't before she came here. V on the other hand goes out a lot. She smokes, which is good, because it's nice to have a smoking buddy in my flat. We're not allowed to smoke in the flat, so it's nice to have someone to go downstars and stand around outside with.

I should probably say a brief word about uni. It's hard as fuck. Basically, the timetabling is shit here, so we had a complete nightmare trying to find modules that didn't clash timetabling-wise. So we're doing a couple of modules that are basically similar to studying English language, but Spanish language. And one bitch of a module called History of Spanish, which is utter wank. It's all about Latin, and how sounds and words changed from Latin to Spanish. Which would be interesting if it wasn't so hard and mind-numbingly boring. I never did Latin. I never had the chance. So I'm kind of lost. Well, if I'm honest I'm totally lost. It's all about YOD and WAU, and it took me a couple of classes just to figure out what YOD was. Sigh. I've been told passing exams at European (and by that I mean continental) unis is dead easy, but I still think it'll be a miracle if I pass that exam.

I said "we" earlier; shortly after I last posted I got a message from another girl from my uni back home (who shall henceforth be known as KO) who had to switch and come here. So we met up, and then found out another girl, ST was also here from our uni. So the three of us have kind of stuck together as far as uni and choosing modules and stuff is concerned. Which is nice. I mean, we're not that close, and I hadn't really spoken to ether of them before coming here. But they're nice enough, and it was definitely a good idea to stick together for classes; three heads are better than one, as they say.

Other than that I've met so many people here. My closest friends here include LMF, who's from my area of London, and is so typically South London (i.e. slightly chavvy, but in a good way, if that's possible), likes makeup and getting drunk. Then there's her friend MK, a French girl. And TT, another Italian girl, who's one of the friendliest people I've ever met. And I think that'll do for now.

I have had so many fun and eventful nights out here. There's so much I want to write about, but if I did this post would be as long as a novel, and my posts here tend to be too long as it is.

On one of the most eventful nights out I ended up stuck with this really clingy guy. LM and MK were off with other guys, and although I didn't like him, I figured it was better to hang out and talk and dance and stuff with him than to stand around in a club by myself looking akward. Plus he was really clingy and I got sick of avoiding him. He fricking followed me from the last bar we were in to the place we ended up in. But then I let him buy me drinks (and fuck but drinks here are strong!) and one thing led to another and we ended up making out. Endless texts from Mr clingy (otherwise known as Ab) ensued (yes, I gave him my number, because I'm clever like that). So I ignored his texts, thinking him and the entire the situation would just go away. No such luck. The following week I went out, and guess who I ran into. Much awkwardness ensued, with me trying to avoid him, and him talking to my flatmate (who, not knowing we knew each other, introduced me to him, to which his response was a sufficiently sleezy "Yeah, we know each other"). Sigh. But still, I think I've finally learnt my lesson with regards messing around with guys I don't like. I was just trying to play the game though, you know? Be a typical girl and get free drinks. He knew how it worked - his agenda was clearly to try and get me drunk enough to sleep with him. Didn't work though! Anyway, in the end I lied and said I had a boyfriend, and told him he was barking up the wrong tree, and to leave me alone, which he's now done.

The night out I had a couple of nights ago was a lot better though; ran into a friend, JE, another English girl, from my course while out, and ended up going back to hers with her, her very camp (and very gay) American roomate, and some random Irish guy. I ended up getting back to mine at 8.30am. It was so much fun though - and I got on so well with them. They're such awesome people, they remind me of my friends back home, because they're so fun and relaxed and un-judgemental. It was awesome anyway, we sat around talking about everything from weed to tatoos to the paranormal to the British royal family to the film The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Which this very abercrombie and fitch (or at least very wannabe abercrombie and fitch) Irish guy told me I had to see. I pissed myself laughing the morning after though, because I'm waaay to innocent when I'm drunk. At 8am me and this Irish guy decided it was time to leave, as it was getting light outside. So we drunkenly stumbled outside. I was helping him find his hotel (honestly, not as bad as it sounds, he honestly didn't remember where it was, and I was being nice and helping him find it) when we ran into LMF, also drunk. She goes to him, "Oh, so are you Iris' new man then?" and repeated the question while I said (totally deadpan and innocently) "No no no no no, he's not, I'm just helping him back to his hotel", and he said not a word! So we left, and found his hotel, and he asked if I wanted to come up to his room. My inital thought was "Why? What for? Surely we've spent enough time sitting around hanging out." Yeah, I'm seriously slow when I'm drunk. But then I got it and looked at my watch, and figured that I shouldn't, more than anything just because it was half eight in the morning, so time to go home and sleep! Though honestly, I'm proud of myself and glad I didn't, because if it takes a guy until 8.30 in the morning to get around to showing any interest in you (there had been no signals prior to that) then he's clearly not that interested. I think it was just that he realised that it was the end of the night, and he was drunk, and with a girl and use of a hotel room, so figured he may as well take a shot.

What else has happened while I've been here? My mum has visited me, as has my sister. Both visits were really fun.

In terms of the whole JA situation, not a lot has gone on really. It's pretty much stagnated. But then I'm fairly happy with that, because being so far away I don't want to start anything up with him now. We've chatted online once or twice though, which was nice. So my plan is to wait, and carry on talking to him online every month or two. And then when I get back to England/Liverpool talk to him online again and tell him, and see if any sort of invitation to meet up is forthcoming. And if not then I'll do like I did towards the end of last year and drag N and E up to visit me and go to a gig/bar I know he'll be at.

Now, I feel I should write about something that's been bothering me recently. Mainly because I'm worried that if I don't I'll get depressed at some point and end up posting tons of upset shit on here about it. I really don't want to talk about it, but I feel it's something I can't really leave out of a journal. Basically not too long before I came to Spain I had a memory come back to me, totally out of the blue. It was of my dad sexually abusing me when I was a kid. Like really young as well, I'd guess maybe 5 or something. And it was clearly something I'd repressed. I did pretty much the same thing for a few years after some older kid tried to force himself on me when I was 8. But anyway. I just felt confused about it really. I mean, I don't hate my dad or anything. You can't just erase like 20 years of us having a fairly good relationship because of one exception (even if it's a fucking awful one). So my relationship with him hasn't changed. My feelings about sex, and guys in general have though. I have serious trust issues too, I always have done, and now that kind of makes sense. It's just sad really. Though in the past week or two it's led to dreams with a recurring theme of sexual abuse, which haven't been fun. I had one in which I was being stalked round the supermarket here by the frontman from a band I like (I like the band, but he seems like a fairly scary guy really). And he kept saying all this really scary stuff to me, and I kept trying to persuade my friends we should leave and they didn't take any notice. The other two dreams were worse, and centred around me being sexually abused by two different family members. Anyway, I said I didn't want to talk about this, and I don't. I've been trying not to think about it and hoping it'll just go away. I know I should probably deal with it, but I don't want to, and I don't know how to, and I know I'll just get upset if I try.

Other than that I'm not really sure what to say. I haven't actually been that homesick so far - i'm honestly having too much fun to be that homesick. And I'm sure my spanish is improving a lot. I'm still looking forward to going home over xmas and stuff though. I'm going home for a week before my birthday, then again at xmas, then again for a couple of weeks in february. I want to do so much while I'm there. Mainly just seeing friends, buying clothes, seeing Four Year Strong, A Loss for Words and This Time Next Year, getting my ears re-piereced and getting a tattoo. I don't know how much of it I'll get round to, but we'll see.

In the way of music I've majorly got into pop-punk lately. Stuff like A Loss For Words and Four Year Strong. Though I've discovered Coheed and Cambria too, and had that feeling where you wonder where a band has been all your life:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0H3RlaQVrM&ob=av2n
I'm slightly ashamed to say I've been getting into a bit more dance, pop and hip-hop-ish stuff, due to the amount of time I've been spending in bars and clubs. Bad Iris.

Anyway now I should go. This post has been so long. I'll try and post more regularly in future.

I don't really know why I'm posting today; I don't really have much to report. Not much has changed in my life lately.

I'm pleased to say that J and A (A being J and my mutual friend) became facebook friends again, thus allowing me to friend him without seeming too stalkerish. Though I haven't actually talked to him yet, and I don't think I will unless he initiates it or unless I get sufficiently drunk. It's nice that I can now know what's going on in his life and stuff while I'm away. I know that sounds dreadfully stalkerish, and I don't mean it like that. It's just that as long as we're facebook friends it won't feel like we're losing touch.

As for going away... I guess I'm starting to get scared. More than anything it's the thought of having to do things in another language. I mean, I find figuring out which phone to get and setting up internet in my flat and trying to open a bank account hard enough in English, my mother tongue (and a subject that I'm halfway to getting a degree in). So god knows how I'm going to manage stuff like that in Spanish. And I find the fact that I may well be on my own, for the first week or so anyway, kind of daunting. I don't know when my flatmates are moving in; I may well be the first one there. It's just kind of scary that for the first week I'll be in a brand new place, with absolutely no committments. Though I do have plenty of things I'm going to need to do shortly after I get there. Like buying a phone (or at least a SIM card (which, after a quick perusal of movistar's website, I understand is called a "tarjeta" (seriously, how many uses does that word have?))), setting up internet, and opening a bank account (which I am led to believe is rather difficult - beaurocracy *sigh*). And that's before all the uni-related scaryness. Because OMG we have to repeat the year abroad if we fail. Repeat it minus the grant and plus an extra year of student loan to pay back. So failure really isn't an option. Pressure much.

I'm also kind of worried by my laid-back approach to packing/preparing for Spain. Because while the fact that I haven't started packing is hardly something to be worried about (I leave in a bit under two weeks), the fact that I haven't even made a list or really given much thought to it is kind of worrying. I remember before I went to uni in first year I spent practically an entire month planning what I was going to take with me and what I was going to leave behind, and making endless lists. And then last summer my parents moved house so that involved endless packing and list-making. And now this year I have to try and fit my entire life (i.e. a years worth of possessions) into one under-20kg suitcase.

Though while I say I'm unprepared, what I have been doing is stocking up on stuff I'll need. Because lets face it, while packing isn't much fun, shopping is. Though it's made me realise quite how girly I've become lately. I mean, in the past month I reckon I've spent about £100 in Boots. That's £100 on cosmetics, hair products, hair removal products (because a year on the Spanish coast definitely renders a fair bit of hair removal necessary) and other personal hygene stuff. Since when did I start caring so much about my appearance? When did I turn into one of those girls that spends hours in the bathroom/in front of the mirror every morning? I think it's my search for the ever-elusive boyfriend that's at fault here. That's right, I'm blaming guys for this. I sense that the longer I remain single, the more obssessed with my looks (and just generally crazy) I'm going to become.

One thing I am currently in the process of doing is planning my leaving do. It's cocktails, again, because I'm original like that. Though we're having trouble fixing on a date. We originally decided sunday (the 28th that is), but then I saw that there's engineering work planned on the trains, so sunday's no good for me. So then I suggested saturday, and K suggested friday (I get the impression her and O are busy on saturday). So who knows. Either way it'll be good to see people before I go. I can't believe I'm not going to be back in the UK til Christmas. I just realised the other day that it'll be the longest I've been away from home before. Because I normally come back for a weekend at some point during each term at uni. But not this time. And uni there starts really early and finishes really late. Sad times. I don't want to spend my 21st in Spain :(.

In other news, I got some new clothes. Including a really pretty dress. It's way nicer than I expected, and really suits me, unlike the other two I wanted. And it was on sale, and only £30. Yay! Here it is: http://www.tallgirls.co.uk/image.php?object_type=detailed&image_id=9360&window=popup

In other random news, I watched the film Easy A yesterday, and loved it. See what I mean about me being too girly? It's amazing though, and really funny. Especially when Olive spends all weekend singing Pocket Full of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield, after declaring that it's the worst song ever, and then when her friend is interrogating her about her fictitious boyfriend she's like "It's like... I've got a love and I know that it's all mine". Some more brilliant quotes:
"There is a higher power that will judge you for your indecency." "Tom Cruise?"
"This is public school. If I can keep the girls off the pole and the guys off the pipe, I get a bonus."
"What's your problem?" "You really want to know what my problem is?" "No actually, that was a rhetorical question. I don't want to know anything from you."
And, my personal favourite, the one in my title:
Her mum: "No judgement, but you kind of look like a stripper." Olive: "Mum!" Her dad: "(Comfortingly) A high-end stripper. For governors, or athletes."

Other than that I've been getting into Miranda a lot lately. It's a comedy series on the BBC. It's brilliant. The funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Plus I remind myself of her so much.

I can't really think of much else to say. So I'm going to go do some more reading. I'm determined to finish re-reading A Feast for Crows before I go to Spain. Because finding room for one massive hardback book will be hard enough, let alone the previous one in the series too.

I finally have a bit of time to myself today, as my parents are out, so I figured I'd post. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and everything, but for two people with jobs they spend a surprising amount of time at home. Though to be fair that's because my mum only works part time and my dad's been working from home a lot lately. And as my mum is off mondays and tuesdays and my dad normally works from home later in the week one of them is normally around. Though I shouldn't complain, it's their house after all. And we've actually had a surprisingly good summer, as far as my relationship with my parents goes. Because I argued with them a lot over Easter I expected summer would be the same, but they've been surprisingly undemanding and un-on-my-case.

I've had no luck on the job front. I gave in a few CVs at pubs and cafes early on in summer and got nothing. And a few weeks ago my mum heard from someone she works with that there was a new bilingual English-Spanish nursery that had just opened nearby. So I contacted them, and even got an interview, but didn't get anything. Which I wasn't really that surprised by. I have absolutely no experience working with kids after all. Kids = scary. I can deal with them a few at a time, but the idea of trying to cope with whole classes of little kids is pretty daunting. Though I think I managed to stop that from coming across in the interview. It was just clear that they wanted someone with experience. So in conclusion, I can't get a job because I have no experience. It's the ultimate paradox.

My social life has pretty much ground to a halt too. I haven't been in touch with anyone in ages. But strangely enough I havent really noticed it. Though I'm definitely going to try and get as many people together for a leaving do before I go to Spain. Which is surpsingly soon - the very end of this month. I've booked flights and got accommodation sorted and everything. In the end the uni contacted me offering me somewhere, and I took it. It's a room in a shared flat, with two or three other girls. It's about 240 euros plus bills, which is ok I guess. And I've signed up for a language course in september. After I fly out I've got about a week before the language course starts, which I figure I'll need for doing stuff like trying to set up a bank account and buy a phone and odd little errands like that, as well as just generally exploring the town a bit. I'm excited. Though it still doesn't feel like it's actually happening. I think it'll only hit me when I get on/off the plane and I'll suddenly realise that "OMG I'm going to be in Spain for a year!" At the moment I'm feeling strangely un-phased by it all though. Must be the jewish blood in me. Because my mum's family are like the archetypal wandering jews. Compared to my great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents trekking to across Europe to the UK from Lithuania and Belarus, a year in Spain should be a walk in the park.

Moving on, in terms of the J-saga, not much has happened really. All quiet on the J-front. He's back on facebook, using his full name (e.g. the equivalent of calling himself Michael instead of Mike). I want to friend him again, but I don't want to seem like too much of a stalker. So I'm waiting for the mutual friend we have to friend him. If she ever does. Either way, it's kind of sad that I'm going to have to wait for a year before I see him again. Though I have a theory that on some level I like forming emotional attachments to guys just before I leave a place. Because I did the same thing with O before I went to Liverpool two years ago. The idea of going somewhere and starting afresh is scary, so I tie myself emotionally to someone in the place I'm leaving. So that it's almost like I have something to anchor me to the place I feel is home. Which, while it isn't necessarily a bad thing, does worry me a little. Mainly because I think it made it so my mindset when I went to Liverpool stopped me from making friends as well as I could have done. Because normally when you go somewhere completely new, like a new school or workplace or town, you feel a certain amount of pressure and are motivated to a large extent to make friends. Whereas if when you arrive in a new place you're constantly looking back and thinking about the friends/attachments in the place you just left, then mentally you're going to focus on them, rather than putting effort and energy into making new friends where you are.

Anyway, it can't be helped. I think I've learnt lessons from my lack of success making friends in Liverpool. Also, I realised not long ago that I definitely think of Liverpool as home now. I miss it, way more than I miss my parents old house and the area where I was born and grew up. I just don't really feel as at home, and as free here as I do in Liverpool. Which is perfectly understandable I guess, seeing as I'm living with my parents again after having lived alone.

I can't really think of anything else to say. My life has been plodding along in it's usual boring fashion. I can't believe summer's almost over. Or mine is anyway - only a few more weeks before I'm in Spain!

I've been doing a fair bit of shopping lately; I realised I have very few summery clothes, so definitely needed some more for Spain. Because my more summery clothes pretty much consist of one pair of sandals I never wear (I haven't worn them in about 4 years) because they rub like crazy, a few band T-shirts (mostly black), one or two black vest tops, a couple of party dresses and a few skirts. Ok, so that actually sounds like a fair amount when I say it like that. But still, I noticed a definite lack of more plain, summery tops. Because I don't tend to wear band t-shirts out much, and two black vest tops isn't really enough everyday wear to survive a year with. Also, I bought a new pair of jeans, because I lost weight! Well, sort of. I lost weight round my hips, and went down a jeans size. And I'm sick of looking like a total slob all the time, as you invariably do when wearing jeans that are a size too big. I also lost a bit of weight round my waist, so in terms of bras went down a band size. But although I've lost weight, I've gained a bit back on my boobs. So I'm now a 30G. I feel like flipping Jessica Rabbit or something! I'm convinced that one of these days the rest of me will disappear and I'll just turn into one huge boob. Anyway, in terms of shopping I was kind of disappointed because I found a couple of dresses that were soooo pretty but didn't fit right/suit me at all. The first one (http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31Uh-DrqNXL._SL500_SY246_CR0,0,190,246_.jpghttp://www.herecomesthegirls.co.uk/longtallsally/Long_Tall_Sally_Red_Halter_Dress.jpg) somewhat predictably just made me look like a giant tomato. And the second (http://www.investinyourchest.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Pepperberry-spot.png) was slightly too big round the boob and waist, and too tight round the legs and arse, even when I tried a size up. The style just didn't really fit right - it probably would have suited a short fat person a lot better. But as it is I couldn't sit down without flashing, so I figured I shoudln't get it.

Also, on a random note, I've been thinking about getting a tatooo. I want one, I'm just kind of chicken. Its so permanent. I want the Thursday dove (http://images-mediawiki-sites.thefullwiki.org/05/1/8/3/0322877265344141.png) somewhere though I can't decide where I'd get it. Though this is all conjecture, because as I say, I'm too chicken and also I don't really have the money. 

Anyway, now I believe I shall go and have lunch, as I don't really have much else to report.

My title's lyrics from Crows by While She Sleeps, a band which I totally can't get enough of lately. They is awesome.

Again, long time no post. Well, maybe not that long, but things have been happening and my life has been changing slightly in its own slow, plodding way.

The first thing I should probably tell you about is my, N and E's trip to Liverpool. Though it feels like so long ago that it's hard to remember it all. Like their previous visit, it was awesomely fun. I'm glad I have some good memories of this year, because so much of it was just me in my flat on my own feeling slightly isolated. It feels so weird to have left Liverpool, and not to be going back there for over a year. I really didn't expect to, but I really miss it. It felt like home. I spent so much time there missing my parents' house, but now that I've left I'm realising that in a way Liverpool felt like home to me, because it was somewhere I felt I could be myself. I also miss a certain person who's name begins with J like a hole in the head, but more about that later.

The first night N and E and I were in Liverpool we just stayed in. We ended up going up on the thursday instead of the wednesday, so we didn't get to go to this clubnight that's on a wednesday. At first I was kind of bummed about that, because I thought J might be there, but then I was looking at the facebook event page for this gig we were going to on friday, and saw that J had posted asking something. So that cheered me right up. Anyway, I think we slept most of friday, and then went to the pub and then to the gig.

The gig was fucking brilliant. The support bands were way better than I thought they would be. And While She Sleeps were really great. And J was indeed there. Though I'm unbelievably ashamed to say, I didn't talk to him. What is wrong with me??? He was always talking to his friend, and I didn't feel like I could just butt in and interrupt. What would I say anyway? Knowing me I'd probably be like "Hey", say something about how good the gig was, and then just run out of ideas, and unless he said something to keep the conversation going I'd end up looking like an idiot, standing there like "um..." for a few seconds before being like "er... gotta go, see ya..." But still, I'm majorly disappointed in myself that I didn't talk to him. I really almost did afterwards, but chickened out at the last second. So now he probably thinks I'm really weird.

Because we went outside after the gig, and I made N and E wait outside the venue for him to come out, under the pretense of having a smoke. He stood outside talking to his friends, and I'd stood N, E and myself where we'd have to walk past him when we left (thus giving me an opportunity to walk past all casual and stop and be like "Hey it's you :-)"). The thing was, it was raining. I swear, the plan would have worked if it hadn't been for that fucking rain. It was proper pouring down with rain, so when we went to walk past J and his friend, N and E rushed straight past them. I know I could have stopped and spoken to him, and that they would have stopped eventually when they realised I wasn't behind them. But they obviously really wanted to get out the rain, and E had hurt her leg, and well, hoes before bros right?
 
Also, I managed to walk straight into his friend, so I was kind of embarrassed. And what with the rain and everything I was convinced I looked like a drowned rat, and probably had completely fucked up makeup, so was embarrassed about that too. It was pretty funny when I walked into his friend though. Because as I went to walk past J I still couldn't decide whether to talk to him or not, and as I walked past I went to look up at him to see if he'd acknowledged me at all or if I could read anything from his face. At that moment his friend moved back a bit, and he was wearing a backpack, and I walked smack-bang into it. So then I pretty much just mumbled "sorry" and got the hell out of there in the most dignified fashion I could manage, without another look at them. After that I was kind of depressed about not talking to him, and my own lack of guts. Because I knew that that'd be my last chance to talk to him, and the last time I'd see him until september 2012, because I won't be in Liverpool til then.

However, I had my friends with me to life my spirits, and saturday afternoon was spent with me showing them round the city centre and the docks and stuff. Then that night we went out to one of my favourite bars, and had a really good night. And then on sunday we came home. The coach ride home was really dreadful - it was so unbelievably hot. It was like a fucking furnace on that coach. No exaggeration. I had a bottle of water with me, and by the end of the journey it actually tasted like boiled water. It was that hot on that bloody coach. Though again I was glad of the presence of my friends, and we made it through. I had so much stuff with me though. I had my enormous suitcase, a handbag, my laptop, and a double duvet and two pillows tied together in a bundle with some string. So I'm sure I must have looked like a complete and utter hobo, dragging all that stuff around, and being all sweaty and horrible after the coach. I totally hadn't expected it to be hot as well, so I was really inappropriately dressed. So while most women were walking round London in summer dresses and sandals, I was dragging what looked like all my worldly possessions around, wearing long-sleeved grey and black sweatshirt with the name of a band on it, baggy jeans (baggy as a result of weight loss, rather than them being a baggy style) and converses. I was so fucking dead by the time I'd said goodbye to N and E and got on the train home. I honestly haven't been that exhausted in years. It didn't help that I was ever so slightly hungover to boot. Hangover + 6 hours on a boiling coach = 1 knackered me.

Now for the next installment in the J saga. When I got home that night, I saw he'd added me as a friend on facebook. Which totally made up for the hellish journey home. I'm pretty damn sure I'm in love again. Which is kind of scary. Because I know how much it can hurt when things don't work out the way you want them to when it comes to love, and I never want to inflict that on myself again. Which I think is a large part of why I never plucked up the courage to talk to him. Once bitten, twice shy. After what happened with O (i.e. me getting rejected) I'm really scared to put my neck out and let a guy I like know how I feel about him.

So anyway, I spent a couple of days at home, trying to pluck up the courage to talk to him on facebook chat. And once again I missed my chance. Once again I'm left kicking myself for not talking to him when I had the chance. Once a-fucking-gain. A few days after I got back from Liverpool I was going to go on holiday with my family. And I'd been putting off talking to J, until the evening before we were due to leave. That evening it just sort of felt right. So I told my parents I was going to bed early, and headed off to my room with my laptop, ready to talk to him. Only he had disappeared. Like, his whole profile was gone off facebook. I spent a few hours driving myself crazy wondering what the fuck had happened, because it was so random, and he'd been online like the night before, posting statuses and stuff, with nothing about deleting his account. Eventually I got some sleep. Then after a few days of being on holiday, I was searching around on the internet one night, trying to see if his tumblr or anything was still up, like the good little internet stalker I am, when I found out what'd happened. Outside of college he does a bit of merch design for bands, stuff like shirts and album artwork and flyers and stuff. And I found some guy slagging him off, saying that J had ordered some shirts printed from this guys company, and hadn't paid basically. And had deleted his facebook and stuff so they couldn't contact him. Which sounds really shitty, and doesn't exactly make him sound like perfect boyfriend material or anything, but I'm really relieved. Its good to know the reason behind it, and that it wasn't that he'd blocked me or something.

Though it does make talking to him a hell of a lot more difficult, if not impossible. He's in Liverpool, and while I feel fairly confident that since I know what sort of music he's into and what bars he frequents I could find him if I went there (god I sound like such a stalker!), I don't have accomodation there. And it's a 6 hours away, so going up there just for a gig or something and then coming home would be kind of impossible. Sad times. But I'm going to hang in there and see if he comes back into existance online, when this whole thing with the shirts has blown over. One of his favourite bands are playing in London later this month, and I'm going to try and go to that, though the chances of J travelling almost 200 miles to see them are pretty small. I like them too though, so it's not like that'd be the sole purpose of seeing them. Anyway, I still need to convince someone to come with me. I know O likes them, and they're more his thing than N and E's, but I don't know if it'd be weird or not going with O.

In terms of other gigs I also really want to see Exit Ten: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_-M4XCLEcQ. And not just because of their good-looking-ness :-) It's rare to find a metal band with a frontman with such a good voice. I also wanted to see Cerebral Ballzy a day or so ago, but in the end I decided that getting back would be too difficult, and I had no one to go with. The joys of living in a shitty little town. I'd have had to have got a taxi back, which would have cost a lot. In the light of this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQRMr7KxZzo I find that somewhat ironic, that lack of taxi fare was my main reason for not seeing them.

Anyway, the holiday with my parents was pretty fun. It was just to the Lake District, but my sister, some friends of my parents came with us, and my cousin, his wife and their 3/4 month old baby were with us for the first few days. That baby is so cute!!!

Other than that, I don't really know what's left to tell. I've had no luck on the jobhunting front, and have been spending most of my time sitting reading. I'm re-reading George R R Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. The newest one of which, A Dance with Dragons, I bought today!!! The morning it came out. The mark of a geek with no life. This morning I woke up at 6 (though admittedly that was because I couldn't sleep), and sat around waiting for the bookshop to open. I haven't started it yet though, I'm still re-reading the rest of the series. Though I'm going to have to speed up; I can't wait much longer! My sister just texted me to tell me she'd been out and bought it in her lunch break, and was already reading it. I bet she'll finish before me, even though she has a full-time job, and studying to do besides, whereas I pretty much have fuck all to do now.

I've sort-of arranged accommodation for next year. Yay Spain! It still doesn't feel real. I'm doing it through the uni, and getting a room in a shared flat. Which is what I want, so it's good.

Other than that I've discovered another good band, Modern Life is War. Someone I know likes them, and while I was on holiday I finally decided to check them out. And it was definitely one of those "Where has this band been all my life" moments. I like The Outsiders, First and Ellen, D.E.A.D. R.A.M.O.N.E.S. Here they be: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOTHegEn7Gw I dare anyone to listen to that and not be blown away. Also, epic lyrics.

Talking of lyrics, I've been thinking about trying to write again. Like seriously. I just feel like since I can't seem to get a job, I may as well give trying to make money from writing a shot. Though I know the chances of actually getting published or anything are slim. It just feels like writing is something I can do. I may not be the best candidate for a job as a waitress or in a shop, but writing is something I can fucking do. I don't know whether to stick with poetry or try prose again. Because I have less confidence in the quality of my poetry, mainly just because I can't seem to edit it. It's very sort of in the moment, and is a case of jotting some lines down onto a page that capture a particular feeling or emotion and calling it a poem. Whereas my attempts at writing fiction were always better. Though my appetite for it seems to have disappeared. I used to have this super imagination when I was a kid, which I don't have any more. I know that if I'm going to write any really good fiction it'll have to be something really ambitious, and I never finish anything, especially not ambitious stuff. It's like a curse; I don't think I've ever actually finished a story. Like, ever. Which means I've honed the art of writing a good beginning, but am not so great at endings. I start things and then lose interest.

Anyway, now I really should go, because I've got to try and get to the post office before it shuts. And get back to my reading :-)

And my title's lyrics from the song First and Ellen by Modern Life is War.

Why is it that every summer my life descends into a state so boring it's unreal? Though yesterday I'm pleased to say I actually got off my arse and went jobhunting, and to get my dad a present for fathers day. Which doesn't sound much, but since we now live in deepest darkest suburbia it involved walking a couple of miles in the heat to get from one potential employer to another. I tried at the pub first, and then went into town, where I got plenty in the way of presents for my dad, but only ended up giving in a CV at one shop. Though they had notices up outside saying they were looking for two new sales assistants. So fingers crossed. Because I did a brief calculation yesterday based on what I've already spent, having been back home for about half a month, and on how long I've got left at home this summer, and I've come to the conclusion that at present I'm definitely living beyond my means. Because I've spent about £300 since I've been back, and I only have about £1150 left. Oops. Though somehow this isn't stopping me from going shoe shopping in the hopes of buying £50 shoes tomorrow. Since when did I become so irresponsible? Though in my defence the shoes are marked down from £80 and they're really pretty.

I just can't seem to stop spending money. On monday I went to the pub again, to meet friends. Which, while it doesn't sound expensive, came to a grand total of £33. Because I spent £15 on travel - a train and tram to get there, then a bus to another pub to meet more friends, then two trains home. And I spent about £7 on cigarettes and roughly the same on alcohol, and a few pounds on food. I walked home from the station as well, if I'd gotten a taxi it would have come to even more. It just really sucks, because I love seeing my London friends. I don't have many friends, and no close friends in Liverpool, so I think it's good for my emotional wellbeing to see my London friends when I can. I don't get to see them half as often as I'd like. I'm normally not that amazingly sociable a person, but it is honestly no exaggeration to say that my London friends are one of the good things in my life. I think I just feel fairly isolated everywhere else, whereas I feel like I fit in with them.

That's not to say I dislike my family or anything, I'm just not that close to them. I find it hard to open up to my parents in particular, I think mainly because I'm pretty sure now that I was suffering from depression, and I was self-harming a few years back and they didn't notice. I remember a fair few occassions when my mum saw me crying or visibly upset, didn't ask why and instead just assumed it was hormones. Whereas actually I think it would have done me a lot of good to have someone at least recognise there were issues there, and make some attempt to figure out why the #### I was so frustrated and full of self-hatred and why I felt that the only way to deal with that was to hurt myself. I think my mum just turns a blind eye to too much. If a problem isn't staring her in the face then great, she doesn't have to deal with it. She's like that about me smoking too. I do it, but not in her presence. So there's too much secrecy there for me too feel 100% at home when I'm at my parents'. I guess I'm pretty close to my sister, but she's working full-time now, and she's always been very hard-working and work-oriented, so even when we see each other she's normally got her head in a textbook or something, and we don't really spend much time jusy chatting anymore. Whereas unlike my mum I think my London friends are very accepting, almost to a fault. I know they'd stick by me through whatever, unless I started deliberately being an ###hole to them, or made it clear I didn't want to know them anymore. I mean, half of the group are gay/bi, one's pregnant, another has a coke addiction. About half are at uni, the other half just bumming around getting whatever work they can. They don't scare easily, and I like that about them.

Anyway, that's enough rambling for one day. One thing I do like about my parents' place is they have an amazing garden. With a pond, with goldfish and a frog and everything. And there are currently two crows perched very symmetrically on the birdbath. I should so try and take more photos this summer. I feel like I don't take enough, and when I do take any it's always of people out getting drunk. N's grandad has facebook, and apparently after she got back from Liverpool he asked if we'd done anything other than buying alcohol and drinking, because that was the impression he got from status updates and photos. We're 20, we're allowed to have a little fun, right?

Though N did annoy me ever so slightly recently. After her and E came to visit me in Liverpool we decided we'd all go up again at the end of june, before my tenancy expires, and bring the rest of my stuff home. N went on about how she wanted to see this band (who I hadn't heard of) who were playing in Liverpool. I listened to them, and was actually kind of pleasantly surprised. I was expecting them to be very typical of the sort of music she's into, stuff like The Blackout and We Are the Ocean, so the more poppy face of modern British emo, if that makes sense. But they were actually more hardcore-ish, sort of like Bring Me The Horizon, only with better guitars and better vocals (so better basically). So I asked if she wanted me to get tickets, and she said yes, and seemed really keen to see them. So I got tickets. Then this monday, her and E basically seemed to be regretting it. N asked if I'd already bought the tickets, and I said yes, thinking to myself "um yeah, you told me to". And then she made some jokey comment about how she should actually listen to bands before booking tickets to see them. I'm just slightly annoyed because she really exaggerated the extent she was into them. I mean, she was so determined to see them and went on about it so much that we basically planned our trip to Liverpool around it. I was surprised when I heard the band, because they're much more my sort of thing than N and E's. I know she likes going to gigs and everything, but seriously, you shouldn't get that excited about seeing a band before you've so much as heard a single song by them. Jeez. I would suggest selling them, but honestly, I kind of like them. I'm not head over heels in love with them or anything, but I'd definitely pay to have them on my ipod. And also, I think there's a good chance J might be there.

What else is going on in my life? Not a lot really. I finally bought some de-frizzifiying stuff for my hair. I'm intrigued as to whether it'll work or not. Watch this space, I'll probably try it later this week. Other than that I checked out Set Your Goals' new song Certain, and I really like it. I was a little anxious, because I love their old stuff, but it definitely didn't disappoint. I'm less sure about Ronnie Radke from Escape the Fate's new band, falling in Reverse. I like some of their songs, but don't really like others. So I'm undecided as of yet. I was a little disappoint by that, mainly because I was so disappointed with Escape the Fate after Ronnie Radke left.

Anyway, I'm going to go read some more Game of Thrones now. Re-reading them and watching the TV series has just served as a reminder of why I love those books so much. Best books ever. No lie. When I went for drinks with S.W. and I.H. and people after the end of exams, they were going on about Terry Pratchett, and it was all I could do not to tell them that they should go read some George R R Martin instead. Not that I have anything massively against Terry Pratchett, I just feel that all other fantasy pales in comparison with A Song of Ice and Fire.

My title's a quote from Scrubs. It seemed to fit the jobhunting situation fairly well.

I figured I'd post again, I'm not sure why. I guess I'm already bored with the summer holidays. And I wanted to go somewhere to escape my dislike of this stupid little town. I miss home. I even miss Liverpool, which feels a lot more like home than here, even though I've only been there for two years, and only during term time. I miss being able to go places and do things without having to pay like £10 just to travel to them. I know I could learn to drive and get a car, but I don't have the money and I don't particularly want to. I just get a little frustrated by how expensive things are here. I've been here a week and I've spent about 3 times more than on an average week in Liverpool. Because while I don't have to pay for food and rent and internet here, in Liverpool those three things make up about all of my expenditure. I miss being able to go out for drinks or to a club with friends and only having to pay about £10 the entire night, because you share a taxi, so only end up paying £2 or £3 in total on travel and drinks are £1.20 each. Not like here where it's £3.50 a drink and it costs me £10.00 just to travel to where my friends are. I just figured £1400 would be plenty to get me through the summer. But maybe I do need a job. Sigh.

As for that, my plans are to go jobhunting again maybe on sunday or monday. I'm going to go shopping again sometime early next week. Shoes shoes shoes!

I'm feeling a little disappointed with myself today. Mainly because I'm not currently slutwalking instead of sitting here writing this. Turns out I'm an armchair feminist as well as an armchair socialist. I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself. I just didn't want to go on my own. I figured I'd get bored just marching through London trying to pretend like I had friends somewhere and wasn't a complete loser. I seem to spend a lot of my time doing that. It's rather sad really. Though in my defence I've always prefered expressing myself through the medium of writing. The pen is mightier than the sword and all that.

Talking of that, I wrote another poem today, mainly just out of boredom. Yeah, I've become one of those pretentious people who write poetry. Its utter shit though. I think I see it as a challenge more than anything else - I'm holding out some vain hope that if I practice then one day my poetry will be good. Prose is too easy now, you see. Also, I think it sprang from me thinking about the fact that I don't write stories anymore. Because I stopped sometime during puberty. I used to have a crazy imagination, I think I got too cynical somewhere on my journey to adulthood. So I decided to try my hand at poetry. I think my reasoning was that since I'm studying English lit at uni I've read enough poetry in my life, and I therefore should have some aptitude for it. It doesn't work like that. What I write is so banal. And personal. A lot of it's about guys and being bi and isolation and missing home, so isn't really stuff I could show anyone I know. It's not emo though, which part of me is a little surprised by. I guess I figured that since I have such dreadfully emo taste in music if I wrote poetry it'd be trashy emo poetry. Though not so. Since I stopped self-harming I have no desire to write about such things. I'd rather sweep it under the rug and try to forget about depression and self-harm and feeling suicidal and all that. It's over. Now I'm just grappling with unfulfilled desires and the feeling that my life is going nowhere. That and a good dose of isolation.

Anyway, now I do sound rediculously whiny and emo. What else can I talk about? I'm still marching through A Game of Thrones, the book that is. I remember so much of it, considering I only read it once and that was over five years ago. Back when I was truly whiny and emo. I like Jon Snow more the second time around. And I probably like Arya, Sansa and Catelyn a little less. Though Catelyn's still awesome. Is it bad that I think I prefer her as Lady Stoneheart?

Other than that, in yesterday's list of new music I've discovered lately I forgot to mention Four Year Strong, and Don Broco. Who are both awesome. I practically walked into the guitarist (or possibly bassist, I can't remember) from Don Broco at the festival N E and I went to. Also, I'm liking Papa Roach's new stuff. I don't think it's as good as their old stuff, but it's still good, or Burn is anyway. Their older stuff, like Between Angels and Insects, reminds me of my friends back home, and fun times at school. Ah the memories.

My sister came back yesterday; she's going to be with us til thursday I think. Though she's busy revising for exams. Its sad to think that this is the first summer that she's working and I'm (as of yet) not. I'm used to it being us two all summer hanging out. Watching marathons of Black Books and Scrubs and random french films while my parents are at work. And talking about A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the first time we're going to buy separate copies of the new book. Which is bad for one thing because this way we can't share the cost. Oh well. I guess it's better this way because one of us won't have to wait for the other to finish it. And since she's at work full time and I have no real committments, I might actually finish it before her this time!

Sorry this post has been so boring. It makes me realise what a dull life I have. I booked tickets for the gig when N and E and I go back up to Liverpool though. And I still haven't heard back from Spain about accommodation. I might try and just get something while I'm out there. Though so many people (including my sister, and let's face it she knows everything) have warned me against it. I just want to get something booked already!

I still haven't seen O and K since I've been back. They were going to come to R.H.'s thing, but cancelled due to lack of funds. Which kind of sucks, because it'd be good to see them. Well, O anyway. K's alright, but we're not that close. Not that O and I are that close anymore. Our friendship seems to have degenerated into liking things on each others facebook pages. That and exchanging music reccommendations. Psst don't tell him but I prefer Fugazi to Minor Threat.

Anyway, as I am now rambling I shall go. Go and read some more Game of Thrones.

Before I go, on a random note, I just wondered if I should maybe start posting in Spanish. Because the closer I get to the year abroad, the more convinced I'm becoming that my spanish isn't actually that great. I mean it's good and all, but good enough to keep up with native speakers, in the way of uni work and stuff? Who knows.

My title's a quote from the Simpsons.