November 22, 2004

Yo yo.

First page in here, looks like the band may now have a name – "Under the Elms" The ashes of Pigeon are set to rise in a phoenix-like fashion next term. Stay tuned for news of imminent signing and ridiculous advances. Hmmm, yeah.

Dear Log…

Hallo, a less unearthly time, yet equally bored.
Today I managed to write and hand in an assessed piece of work more or less on time! Hoorah! The sense of achievement I feel is dulled somewhat by the knowledge that I have a harder piece of work due in tomorrow, but not to worry, Rob-followers, it's not assessed, and I have upwards of 12 hours to complete it this time! Rock and/or roll.
Also dulling my happiness was the necessity to spend much of the day wandering around campus and tasting the South Central interpretation of salad in my baguette, which seemed to turn to the taste of washing up liquid, a disturbingly possible taste contribution when I thought about it. I then spent a productive half hour in the library (visit number 5 since getting here last year) having lost the english floor and sitting in the science department doing free association writing and making poems out of it, gaining odd looks from a barrage of silent but unliterary science students. Hopefully I will be able to display my efforts to the world in the poetry section sometime soon, well ish, and following the completion of my assignment for tomorrow. God I sound dull on here. I wish my writing voice didn't change so dramatically to that of a pedant and complaining bore when I started writing a blog. Note to self: if this continues, may have to stop.
Anyhow, out.

Righto then.

So, here it is. First thing's first, I picked a black background mainly because seeing things I've written showing up black on white 1. Annoys me and 2. makes me feel strangely uncomfortable, I think it's probably because of trust issues with quote/misquotes. Although on a blog I suppose that's less of an issue, really. This opinion could be seen as a slight problem given that I want to be a writer and the majority of the written word is printed, yes, black on white. I'll have to think about this one.
I flirted briefly with the "Grungy" background, but decided it was in fact, distinctly un"grunge" – clearly the university's web admin idea of grunge is not quite the same as mine, and/or the rest of the worlds'.

Anyway, so, my life, eh? Interesting so far, isn't it. I'll briefly introduce myself…

I'm Rob, I'm a 19 year-old 2nd Year Creative Writing student. If for some reason you can find this out from somewhere else on the internet, well done you! I like guitars, words, the sky, windows and a whole host of other things which will no doubt emerge in the time I spend writing this pointless account in the early hours of the morning when I should in fact be doing work.

I've just returned home from a weekend of a friend's 20th birthday celebrations which in fact turned out to be a contender for worst weekend EVER. It was topped off by my immediate concern, my journey back. Given that Marylebone station is now randomly closed on weekends, I undertook to go to Paddington from my native orpington, via Marylebone just to check if it wasn't bastard shut, which of course it was. I started this journey at 7.56pm. I ended the journey in a taxi from Banbury station, at half past midnight. Any londoners reading this may realise that the usual journey time from South London to South Leamington is NOT 4 and a half fucking hours! Getting stuck on a shitty First Great Western link service from Reading to Banbury for an hour is not my idea of fun, and having arrived at 5 to midnighyt I was tired, overly stressed due to the rest of the weekend, and angry, only to find that the delay had caused my wonderful second change to become irrelevant since the services from the pisspoor town of banbury on a sunday night had stopped running. Wank. Thankfully my loud and confused expletives were enough to persuade the 3 remaining staff at the station to spring for a cab for the 2 other passengers likewise stuck in the middle of the home counties, sop it wasn't that bad, really, but frankly, I'm still annoyed.

Anyway, that wasn't very interesting but felt the need to vent in detail. The rest of my weekend was probably far more fascinating to those of you who enjoy the odd soap opera, but as with all good suspense novels, its what you don't say that matters. Don't worry, I trust that the other entries in this blog will be mildly more interesting than this one, but I'm making no promises. Who reads this stuff anyway? Answers on a postcard, please.

Right, that's it for now, I'm eager to see if this works – over and out.

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