Thursday, February 08, 2007

On the bus.

Time to change, to move on, to stop hiding. Have struggled with this blog - looking back through the postings it feels that there is too much contrived, contrite waffle. Verging on pretension. I'm allowed to say that, it is my blog.

So just get it all down, the day to day blah de blah, but get it down. Self-discipline, what a grail to search for. Oh god, at it again.

Yesterday was a good day.

Saw my first piece of paid copy. Ok so it won't win the Booker Prize, but I wrote it and will get paid for writing it. Hope I never loose that buzz of seeing my name in print. Some how, knowing me, I don't think that I will. Think I'll still bounce up and down, literally or internally, with a grin to myself to say 'I did that'.

Got our portfolio grades back, and I'm happy and proud. Kind of draws a line on the work from last year so time to move forward, in more ways than one.

Oh, and there was the bus trip to Plymouth. The reason for the bus trip was to see Dereks play, but the night almost seems like two separate occasions.

On the bus. And Off the bus.

On the bus we drank, sang and made merry. Perhaps too merry - is there such a thing? Don't think so really. Whatever, it was fun. I asked D to save me a back seat, he asked if that was because I was cool, and I explained that I never, never, never was one of the 'cool' ones at school. Far from it. I was always a bit of an odd-ball, never cool. I'd never say that I was cool now, despite wanting to sit on the back seat.

Actually the backseat thing stems from 'airport terror'. This phenomenon is a term I use to explain the total personality change that I go through the moment I step into an airport, as a ressult of the quest for the window seat. So, heres how it goes, I tense up, and run and will fight anyone, anywhere near me to a) get to the check in first b)make sure I get the window seat c)stay at the front of any queues anywhere. Some how, if I'm in a window seat, and can see the sky, land, and the emergency exit then everything will be OK - the plane will be safe, we will not crash, and no one will blow us up.
So, translate it to a bus, and the emergency exit is always near the back seat, so we will be safe, we will not crash, and no one will blow us up.

Oh, did I forget to mention that the back seat is always the best place to have a sneaky ciggy, there's room to dance and you always seem to drink more.

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