Oh I do like to be beside the seaside.

Never before have I had such an overwhelming urge to get away. I'm not one for insisting on uprooting and disappearing down the garden path at the blink of an eye, but I feel I have to get away. I am aware that last statement could not sound more melodramatic. My intentions are not for this to come across incredibly depressing and "oh, my life is so terrible." I just want to go for a bit. Even a week, that'll do.

My destination is Brighton. In reality, the weather there is probably just as bad as it is here, and ideally, as a seaside resort, I should really be going in the height of summer. But I want to go. I am supposed to be next to the seaside. I think everyone has a place they are meant to be, you know? Mines is the seaside; the British seaside. I find it a difficult thing to express to people; I often recoil in embarrassment at that thought of sounding so gushing and lovey. Even at this very moment I'm cringing at the sight of my words on this page.

Nevertheless, East Kilbride will always be home. I know that if I go away anywhere, I'll always end up back here. It's a love-hate relationship. I take real enjoyment from moaning about how monochrome the place is; how the transport system is terrible; how it is slowly being overrun by urban foxes. Because it's home.

I just want a break from home, though. Everyone deserves a break. I need one.

And so, I'll pack my things up in a little spotted red napkin, tied around a stick and plod down the street. With no money...no sense of direction...no permission from my parents...

...Maybe another time.

Efter x

Just a rant, more than anything.

You would think that I'd actually be trying to complete the stupid amount of work I have to do right now instead of this. Nah, I'd rather put it off and just complain about it. Yeah, that'll get it done.
 I have this ridiculous email debate to finish for English and I can't think of a single thing to say. I don't even know where I stand in the argument. The only thing I am able to exhibit in this debate is my inability to write like a university student. I can't stand English as a subject sometimes, it is the Hyacinth Bucket of academia, so highfaluting. Even as I talk about how snobby the subject is, I throw in a big word to make myself sound intelligent. I've never felt so inadaquate than when I sit in that lecture or that tutorial with people who have a natural flair for the subject, who talk in riddles, it seems to me. Just people constantly trying to prove themselves, and for the life of me I can't think why. Oh, and I have to read like 5 books or whatever for next Friday. I'm having a whale of a time.

I also checked my schedule for work next week. Yeah, one shift. That's it. That'll be, oh, £22 to do me a fortnight. Cheers McD's. It's not like I'm skint. Nooo.

And so,  I should probably get on with this work and stop whingeing like a little child. It's what I do best though, if my whole debate could be a great whinge, I'd pass. No bother. But unfortunately, I have to sound academic and actually have evidence for my view. Which again, fuck knows what that view is.

Oh, woe is me.

Here's a picture of me ginger, it always cheers me up.

Well should have stayed like that!

T'ra. x

Pin pin.

Advice: If you decide you're going to listen to your iPod on the train, do not listen to a Russell Brand podcast that will make you guffaw like a fool. People will think you have mental problems.

I have decided to make this blog in a desperate attempt to escape the tedium of Facebook. A tedious website I visit at any opportunity in the day. It's a problem, I'm sure of it. I have it up on a tab now, my finger somewhat strained from repeatedly pressing the refresh button in hope that something vaguely interesting will appear. Tonight it appears this is not to be.

I have had a relatively average day, just absent-mindedly floated hither and thither into uni, home, into work, and home. I have been constantly tuned into my iPod to keep me going, but as I discussed above, just ended up bursting into fits of laughter, or - when listening to Matt Cardle off the X Factor's version of Just the Way You Are - fits of tears. Makes a change from listening to The Smith's over and over. That cannot be good for anyone, even if you adore them like I do. I'd rather not be perpetually melancholy, or pompous like your typical fan.

I have added the following link so that I never forget how beautiful these boots are. Clearly no motive behind it.. BUY  ME THESE.
http://www.newlook.com/shop/womens/boots/leather-heeled-cowboy-boot_198476947

Apologies for being a terrible bore.