Wednesday, June 02, 2004
"Even when I get hay-fever, I find
I may sneeze but I don't really mind
As long as I'm in love with the summertime."
- The Pop Singer's Fear of the Pollen Count, The Divine Comedy
Since Monday night I've had more of a full-fledged, coughing, fever and chills, super sore throat, sneezing uncontrollably thing going on than hay-fever. Yet I continue to feel as though the life I'm leading is a particularly charmed one of late.
Other than the stupid cold-induced misery (check out more funny flash animations with Scandinavian moping at Strindberg + helium), I've been varying degrees of euphoric since 1 p.m. Thursday, the time at which my last exam ended. John and I went shopping that afternoon, which in retrospect seems like a particularly poor idea even though we'd agreed to limit each other's spending. But I found a dress and shoes to wear to the wedding I'm attending in August somewhere in France, so whatev. Then there was celebrating of the end of exams in Hoxton with Decision Scientists, and closing another bar near Regent Street with Operational Researchers. I'm going to miss my classmates.
Friday night I got a ride to Bristol with Andrew; he and I worked together in Vancouver back before the telecom crash. He's been back in the UK since 2002, but we spent a good half hour discussing what he'd do for a Canadian passport, which included selling his nan if that would work. I think I laughed for at least 90 minutes of the two hour drive.
Saturday involved a bunch of seemingly-fruitless calling of flatshare ads, a barbecue at which Andrew's flatmate Matt stated, "I'm not a nutter! I'm zany, I'm off the wall!" and their friend Daniel noted, upon looking at colour pictures from WWII in a magazine, "I always thing of World War II as being in black and white. And the 1920s are in brown and yellow and people walk funny," delicious Thai curry, and visits to Revolution (which has six disco balls and more vodka infusions than seems reasonable) and the Fez Club (where Fiona walked into a deceptive mirror: ""There was a lovely lady walking straight towards me. So I politely moved out of the way, and she headbutted me, the bitch!").
By Sunday night, basking in the backyard of the Victorian house in which Tim and Clare live and devouring a lovely roast dinner, I had a new place to live sorted. With swimming pool use and wireless broadband internet and all bills included, near the Downs. It is also walking distance to my half-dozen or so new friends-through-Andrew-but-they-like-me-for-my-swimming-pool. I'm very much looking forward to living in Bristol. I'm moving some of my stuff with Andrew this weekend, so I should probably get back to packing.
