A Life in Brief...

Firstly, before I forget: HAPPY BIRTHDAY eibbil_libbie! You're a fabulous writer, a great person and I wish you a great day and a great year ahead.

Is it me or is it everybody's birthday lately? Least I remembered this one!

Have a sore throat so am not going to work again today. I know a sore throat is hardly life-threatening, but when you work in a call centre, it's kind of important. I'm not sitting for six hours croaking at twats demanding numbers.

Anyway, it occurred to me that I haven't really posted in a while except to wish Dan happy birthday. So let me play catch up...

I have received word that I have got funding for the MA Journalism course I applied to at the University of Sunderland. Therefore I do not have to pay my fees and I think I get seventy five quid a week too. Or something. So in just a few short weeks I'll be off to the North East learning to be a journalist.

I went to the cemetery on Sunday with my mum to visit my gran. It's actually awfully nice there, considering it's a huge graveyard next to, if I recall correctly, the North Circular (a big road in N. London). It's also quite cool that a lot of my family are there: my grandmother is buried with my grandfather (of whom more later), a few rows up is his best friend Jimmy. In the next section is my gran's brother and his welsh wife Menna (I like that name) and a few rows down from him is my other grandmother. So we get to visit all of them. I got to cut the grass with weird cutter things. Was quite cool.

Anyway, I'm in the car with my mama on the way there and she says something along the lines of "It's really very good that you're going to do this journalism course because of your grandad... he had quite the way with words..." And I suddenly remember that my grandfather (who I never met because he had a real love of cigarettes and died in 78) spent his life working in the print. He apparently had a way with words and could've been a great writer but at that time there was no way to get into the unions if you didn't already have someone in the union like a brother or something. So I suspect that my mother, who quite clearly adored her father although she doesn't talk about him much, sees me as in some way carrying on the family trade.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that, although I wouldn't hate being a journo, my one true love is rock and roll and I want to make it not write about it. Maybe I'll be a journo first, then make it big. Hmmm. Am hoping to find a band while in Sunderland living the student life.

Also!! My mum told me that if I finally pass my driving test, she will give me her car. It's only a little Ford Fiesta that's a fair few years old, but still. Also, I remember when she bought it- it was slightly more than she could afford, so she rang my gran and asked for a loan/some money. Ergo, my gran, whom I love and adore above anyone else in heaven (Yes Jim, I mean you too) helped buy that car. If anything can get me back into driving lessons and can make me pass on the fifth go (have no concentration although can drive quite well) it's that. Will find an instructor as soon as I'm in Sunderland.

( Cut for your sanity )

And finally, I always, always, seem to dream of cemeteries when I come back from them. Last time I dreamed of a Buffy-esque kind of mausoleum, this time I napped after returning (my mum made me get up at NINE am!) and dreamed of another, random, unknown one. How weird is that? Also, had a dream about a vampire the other day... and I have a strange spot on the side of my neck that I didn't know was there until after the dream. Hmmm. Whatever. Murder, She Wrote time now.

A Life in Brief...

Firstly, before I forget: HAPPY BIRTHDAY eibbil_libbie! You're a fabulous writer, a great person and I wish you a great day and a great year ahead.

Is it me or is it everybody's birthday lately? Least I remembered this one!

Have a sore throat so am not going to work again today. I know a sore throat is hardly life-threatening, but when you work in a call centre, it's kind of important. I'm not sitting for six hours croaking at twats demanding numbers.

Anyway, it occurred to me that I haven't really posted in a while except to wish Dan happy birthday. So let me play catch up...

I have received word that I have got funding for the MA Journalism course I applied to at the University of Sunderland. Therefore I do not have to pay my fees and I think I get seventy five quid a week too. Or something. So in just a few short weeks I'll be off to the North East learning to be a journalist.

I went to the cemetery on Sunday with my mum to visit my gran. It's actually awfully nice there, considering it's a huge graveyard next to, if I recall correctly, the North Circular (a big road in N. London). It's also quite cool that a lot of my family are there: my grandmother is buried with my grandfather (of whom more later), a few rows up is his best friend Jimmy. In the next section is my gran's brother and his welsh wife Menna (I like that name) and a few rows down from him is my other grandmother. So we get to visit all of them. I got to cut the grass with weird cutter things. Was quite cool.

Anyway, I'm in the car with my mama on the way there and she says something along the lines of "It's really very good that you're going to do this journalism course because of your grandad... he had quite the way with words..." And I suddenly remember that my grandfather (who I never met because he had a real love of cigarettes and died in 78) spent his life working in the print. He apparently had a way with words and could've been a great writer but at that time there was no way to get into the unions if you didn't already have someone in the union like a brother or something. So I suspect that my mother, who quite clearly adored her father although she doesn't talk about him much, sees me as in some way carrying on the family trade.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that, although I wouldn't hate being a journo, my one true love is rock and roll and I want to make it not write about it. Maybe I'll be a journo first, then make it big. Hmmm. Am hoping to find a band while in Sunderland living the student life.

Also!! My mum told me that if I finally pass my driving test, she will give me her car. It's only a little Ford Fiesta that's a fair few years old, but still. Also, I remember when she bought it- it was slightly more than she could afford, so she rang my gran and asked for a loan/some money. Ergo, my gran, whom I love and adore above anyone else in heaven (Yes Jim, I mean you too) helped buy that car. If anything can get me back into driving lessons and can make me pass on the fifth go (have no concentration although can drive quite well) it's that. Will find an instructor as soon as I'm in Sunderland.

( Cut for your sanity )

And finally, I always, always, seem to dream of cemeteries when I come back from them. Last time I dreamed of a Buffy-esque kind of mausoleum, this time I napped after returning (my mum made me get up at NINE am!) and dreamed of another, random, unknown one. How weird is that? Also, had a dream about a vampire the other day... and I have a strange spot on the side of my neck that I didn't know was there until after the dream. Hmmm. Whatever. Murder, She Wrote time now.