So finally, Chester has caught up with the rest of the country and actually taken it upon itself to snow. After three hours of concentrated wishful thinking last night, the theory that I've been working on since I was three that I have magical powers has been proven after getting an e-mail telling us all that our lecture this morning was cancelled. I was especially happy as the last time I attended that lecture I spent two hours awkwardly avoiding the people I barely knew who I had been insanely dancing with the night before, looking intently at my book whilst the three of us pretended we didn't remember. I decided to make a good morning a better one by not going to my seminar either, given that I was supposed to have read Ulysses and am currently still struggling on.... on page 11. I did go to the library and do some dissertation work instead though, so it's not like I've been totally unproductive. I did want to go home and work, but the library wouldn't let me leave with the books because I owed them too much money, so I was forced to sit with all the pretentious library snobs having in-depth discussions about Ulysses and polishing their monocles. It has dawned on me over the past couple of weeks that, in regards to education, I have made every 'wrong choice' available to me since I was fourteen and am now, in my third and final year at university, in the exact same position I was back then, except now I live away from home and I no longer think it acceptable to wear baggy jeans and chains. Oh, and I'm in thousands of pounds of debt. Well done, self. Still, my mother reassured me that even if I get a third, I will still get a hat and robe. Unfortunately, I have spent the past hour watching J.K. Rowling interviews on YouTube so even a third is looking a bit on the hopeful side. What a vicious little circle. I did try and do some internet related research, but after clicking on a link to what could have been a very useful article and finding out it was a 'fill-in-the-word' exercise for year tens, I gave up. Also, whenever I do have a spur of motivation and sit down to do some reading, within minutes I find I have completely drifted off and am somehow thinking of an entirely unrelated subject, usually inane wonderings such as, 'how do birds have sex?' (Seriously though, has anyone ever seen it happen? It isn't possible.) Today, for example, I read the word subserviance and spent the next ten minutes thinking about Subway sandwiches. Worrying. Very worrying.
Nothing much else has happened as of late, just the standard daily thoughts of, 'oh God. I need to sort my life out,' usually occurring when I am using a facial cleansing wipe as a substitute for deodorant, or something equally as ridiculous. I am going to Manchester later to visit Naomi, although I have been informed that we will be ice skating, which is pushing me towards feigning some sort of hideous illness which rules out any extreme sport in which I could end up in a compromising position. I will think of one on the train. I love going to train stations, I was in Lime St. Station last week and saw a poster for Aladdin at the theatre. I was pretty confused to see Pamela Anderson on the front of it, trying to recall a scene in Aladdin in which there is a blonde haired, enormously breasted woman wearing nipple tassels. (Ok, maybe not nipple tassels, but she definitely didn't seem to be wearing a lot. Pretty sure that would be frowned upon in Arabia, no?)