I don't care who you are - man, woman, snake or bird - you cannot beat a really good mix CD. Tom's coming over tomorrow to celebrate Valentines Day this weekend and part of our gift-exchanging is to make CDs for each other. Mine is, I don't mean to sound arrogant, but well...I really like it. I'm not going to mention what's on it as Tom has a blog and he might see this. Then again, he never blogs anyway so if you're reading this, Tom: get off your arse and type!
On another note, I never realised that appreciating film and taking it to an academic level could be so hard! I started a Reading Film class this semester and as interesting as it is, it's well out of my comfort zone considering I flourish best when in the realms of Keats or Dickens! I'm not an English Literature dork for nothing...
The Gilberto Perez book, 'The Material Ghost: Films and Their Medium' is our bible and while it really does seem fantastic, it's so hard to concentrate on even one chapter when I'm so sleepy. I've been dashing about doing laundry and tidying my room all day. Now that may not sound taxing, but believe me you didn't see my room. It really did look like I'd decided to have fun with some plastic explosives.
Even my 'unwinding' tonight is going to be work, as I have to watch 'Pickup On South Street' for my seminar tomorrow. I suppose I can't complain there though; it looks an awesome film and whoever thought watching films taxing?
I'll update after this weekend, if I ever get chance to stop that is!
Thursday, 12 February 2009
Friday, 6 February 2009
Lives in a house, a very big house in the country
Okay, that title is massively inaccurate since I actually live in University owned Halls of Residence in the middle of one of the largest cities in England, but all that is irrelevant as I have found a house for my second year (bring on the fanfares).
Here is how it happened: upon returning to Manchester after Christmas my friends and I decided it was time to look for a house since one can only live in Halls for a year unless you apply super-early. It ended up with seven of us deciding to share, six of whom were girls and one of whom is a boy. Initially, there were going to be two boys but one of the boy's girlfriends decided she wouldn't want him living with six other girls. Despite the fact that none of us ladies are interested in this guy sexually, he is apparently now struggling to find a place to live. Go figure...
Anywho, yesterday afternoon we attended three house viewings that seemed intent on severely damaging our morale. The first one really pushed the phrase 'absentee landlord' since he never turned up, although the presence of open wiring poking through the house assured us this may well be a good thing. The second house fared a little better, as although the landlord had not arrived, the students living there let us look around. About five minutes into us looking around, one of the guys told us the landlord had phoned and sold the house yesterday.
The fact that he hadn't told us before we came to view the house really pissed us off and we were starting to worry that we'd all be living in bins next year. We trudged to the third viewing both anticipating and dreading what we might find.
Coming to the drive was a good sign, since we saw the landlord waiting for us. Inside proved even better, what with two bathrooms, a good sized lounge and kitchen and HUGE bedrooms. The biggest bedroom is probably about the size of my kitchen; pretty big when you consider that my kitchen is communal for twelve people. At only £61.15 a month we were jumping for joy and expressed our interest. Today we went to the estate agent and paid our deposits.
That in itself was a challenge for me, since last night I went round to Fran's for fondue (hilarious dropping of bread in a tub of cheese with skinny forks anyone?) and then we all went out to 42nd Street for mad dancing to indie. I'd convinced myself before going out that I should try and leave early, since I had to be awake by 8am to pay my deposit but inevitably ended up getting home at 4. I feel a bizarre mix of happiness and optimism, combined with the sensation of feeling like death due to lack of sleep and the awareness that I really need a shower.
It's a good feeling...
Here is how it happened: upon returning to Manchester after Christmas my friends and I decided it was time to look for a house since one can only live in Halls for a year unless you apply super-early. It ended up with seven of us deciding to share, six of whom were girls and one of whom is a boy. Initially, there were going to be two boys but one of the boy's girlfriends decided she wouldn't want him living with six other girls. Despite the fact that none of us ladies are interested in this guy sexually, he is apparently now struggling to find a place to live. Go figure...
Anywho, yesterday afternoon we attended three house viewings that seemed intent on severely damaging our morale. The first one really pushed the phrase 'absentee landlord' since he never turned up, although the presence of open wiring poking through the house assured us this may well be a good thing. The second house fared a little better, as although the landlord had not arrived, the students living there let us look around. About five minutes into us looking around, one of the guys told us the landlord had phoned and sold the house yesterday.
The fact that he hadn't told us before we came to view the house really pissed us off and we were starting to worry that we'd all be living in bins next year. We trudged to the third viewing both anticipating and dreading what we might find.
Coming to the drive was a good sign, since we saw the landlord waiting for us. Inside proved even better, what with two bathrooms, a good sized lounge and kitchen and HUGE bedrooms. The biggest bedroom is probably about the size of my kitchen; pretty big when you consider that my kitchen is communal for twelve people. At only £61.15 a month we were jumping for joy and expressed our interest. Today we went to the estate agent and paid our deposits.
That in itself was a challenge for me, since last night I went round to Fran's for fondue (hilarious dropping of bread in a tub of cheese with skinny forks anyone?) and then we all went out to 42nd Street for mad dancing to indie. I'd convinced myself before going out that I should try and leave early, since I had to be awake by 8am to pay my deposit but inevitably ended up getting home at 4. I feel a bizarre mix of happiness and optimism, combined with the sensation of feeling like death due to lack of sleep and the awareness that I really need a shower.
It's a good feeling...
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