September 21st: Adjusting

Well... blimey! I thought it was time I updated you 'orrible lot about what's occurring in my new life, but where to start?

Well, it's busy. Good but busy. And confusing, and overwhelming, and brilliant, and a little bit lonely in the moments when I'm not busy - but the more friends I make, the less I get that feeling. But it's crazy! I mean, besides the obvious stuff about doing a degree, there's the cooking, the cleaning, all the stuff to which I gave no thought before... like how long after the best before date can you keep bread, or whether you can convince your flatmates to move the toaster because it says in the manual you can't put it under cabinets or next to heat sources (and ours is under a cabinet next to the oven)... or remembering to lock your flat when you leave (admittedly of my three flatmates and myself, I'm the only one who hasn't broken or forgotten my keys yet. We'll see how long that'll last.)

But it's occurred to me that I've been here for three days now, and I haven't starved to death yet. Before coming here I hadn't really fed myself for more than one day at a time, and now here I am, "cooking" (cough cough) or at least surviving fairly well. My room is still tidy (three days is practically a record for me), our kitchen is spotless, I've done the washing up more times than I care to think about because we're all still getting to know each other and none of us want to leave it to build up in case the others think we're not doing our bit, so we're all washing up after every meal (actually I tend to leave mine for two meals otherwise it's such a waste of water). I hardly see my flatmates though really except the one who lives next door, because we've all got stuff at different times so we don't eat together - but we're living here for the next academic year so we've got plenty of time to mess the place up. Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that we're adapting pretty well (though our oven doesn't work and apparently the people upstairs burned something yesterday sticking it under the grill because theirs doesn't work either). But hey.

One of the things that is nice, though, is that I can basically do what I want. After my lectures yesterday I went home with a friend and then I brought her back to mine and there was nobody to ask, no permission to gain... I could come home at three in the morning if I so wish (though I might regret it when my alarm goes off at seven the next day). It's also a bit of a novelty for me being able to walk everywhere - I can leave the flat and be in the centre of town in ten minutes! Incredible, considering I come from the middle of nowhere and am used to relying on either irritating infrequent buses or the good old parents.

It would be highly irresponsible of me to post pictures of my room on the internet where any old person could see them, so I'll show you some pictures of possibly the most historical town I've ever been in instead. York's been populated by every invader England has ever hosted - and of course our own indigenous people as well - and apparently they're all buried under the city itself, so you're basically walking on thousands of years' worth of dead people. There is also apparently an ancient law which has never been changed, which states that it is perfectly legal to shoot a Scotsman inside the city walls (I know - a walled city. Could this place be any more awesome?) on condition that it's not a Sunday or after dark and it has to be with a bow and arrow. And they do actually have a shop that sells bows and arrows so... Scotsmen, watch your backs!

No, I'm not actually a creepy weirdo interested in all this death stuff. However I did attend a "Ghost Walk" last night, during which we walked through the city listening to York's ghost stories and watching our guide (this guy - he was on stilts and in costume) -->
pointing out all of York's haunted areas. Apparently my new home is the most haunted city in the world, and with the enchanting and grand Minster right in the centre of the city walls, that's easy to believe.

(I'm quite proud of this picture. I was an idiot and forgot my camera last night but my BlackBerry did itself proud on this one... though no picture can ever capture the incredible building that is the Minster and certainly not the size of it. If ever you come to York, just go and look at it; it's truly awesome.)







At the moment York city centre is covered in marquees and stalls because the York Food and Drink Festival's on, and whilst walking back from the Ghost Walk last night, my flatmate and I stumbled upon a free charity acoustic concert, so we went in and had a nose. It's fantastic to actually live in such a beautiful city with so much going on!

On a random note: I was also pleased to discover that my Student Union bar sells my favourite cider:

but unfortunately not my favourite flavour. Oh well, can't have everything! It's exciting nonetheless.

OH and there's a very short street, literally one or two shops, one with the fabulous name of "1 1/2 Whip Ma Whop Ma Gate". I'll try to get a picture. Brilliant!

In a minute I'm off to the Freshers' Fair, and I'm going to chew a stick of that "mouth watering berry" gum that I got in my freebies when I moved in... just because I can.

Molly x

P.S. Sorry again for the gaps! It seems Blogger dislikes posts with pictures in them. Oh well, it'll just have to suck it up.

September 17th: Reasons why I shouldn't write in the night

The house is dark because everyone's in bed, and, as appears to be the norm around here of late, I am the only one awake. I realize that it's slightly strange to update one's blog to pass the hours when sleep is being an evasive bastard, but alas, here I am. If, that is, I can remember the correct email address to send this post to.

Tomorrow I'm leaving. Leaving the familiar comfort of the South, leaving the area where I grew up and the faces that punctuated my daily existence. These places have been the setting for my story so far - they've been home to every turn my life has ever taken and every development it's ever put me through - but stories have to move on, and so does life... and so do I. So to the North with me! To York! Let me fly the nest and land on my very first voyage five hours upwards from here.

I must be crazy. Five whole hours? That's such a long way! That's 300ish miles. What if I don't like it? What if I want to come home? - These are the responses I've had from people upon learning where I've chosen to attend university, but as far as I'm concerned, being away from home is being away from home. There's still the effort of going to the station, buying a ticket, sitting on a train for a while; does it really make a difference whether it's one hour or five?

Not to me. So I thought, at least. But I haven't even left yet and I'm lying here unable to sleep, which has to say something about my emotional goings-on at this particular moment in time. I never thought it would feel like this. I never thought it would hit me this hard. I've always been the girl who doesn't show emotion; the girl who doesn't cry - but trust me, I feel it, and now, while I don't feel sad exactly, I feel overwhelmed by it all. I feel like there's something pressing down on me. There's been such a huge lead up to this that you'd think I'd have had a chance to get my head around it by now - and so I thought I had - but apparently, no matter how ever-present it is in your thoughts or how much preparation you do, you can never really leave your childhood behind without it hitting you right between the eyes. Oh, we're growing up all right, but that skin of childhood we're shedding wants to make its presence felt while it still can. That's why we doubt ourselves and our choices. Because the future is always right around the corner, and we are constantly being told that those who don't give it 100% probably aren't going to succeed.

Well, maybe that's true. But if you really love something, you give it 100% without even trying. You give it your everything because that's what you feel it deserves. The future is never secure, but I do believe we end up where we're meant to be - and all I have to do is think about the feeling I got when I stepped out of York train station back in April; the feeling I got when I saw it for the first time; the feeling of rightness, of 'yes, this is where I belong'. I think about how that feeling grew, about how York and its university offered no pins with which to puncture it - unlike the other four unis on my list. I think about how much trouble I had deciding on a uni in the first place and then how easy it was once I'd chosen York St John; how wonderful it will be to have fallen in love with a place and actually get to live there; and most of all, I think about that day in September 2009 when I sat in an English Language lesson and somewhere inside me, something seemed to click into place.

I don't doubt my choices, because all I have to do is think about all of that and I know everything is going to be okay. What I'm feeling is a combination of nerves, excitement, tiredness and irritation at not being able to sleep - and it's normal to feel all of that. Especially the nerves and excitement stuff.

This is a prime example of why I should not write in the night! I'm always that little bit more unhinged when it's dark and it feels like I am the only being on the planet. It's dangerous for me to have a phone with an internet connection really... who knows what could happen if any of my less-controlled moments got into the hands of the interweb?

Seriously though. And just because it's now twenty past one in the morning and there's a new, creepily accurate horoscope awaiting me courtesy of my DailyHoroscope app, I'm going to insert it here to finish this post, because it is... well, creepily accurate. Not that I believe in that stuff. It's just my guilty pleasure. Only when it's good though.

"When a woman becomes pregnant, she has nine months to get used to the idea. She can take that time to think about the kind of parent she wants to be. She can look into nutrition and other aspects of care. She can prepare a nursery. She can arrange for babysitters and pick out clothing and find a pediatrician. And yet, despite having that time to get ready, she will still make mistakes. Just because you're about to enter a new adventure with little warning does not mean you will make more mistakes than someone who's better prepared. Go forward with enthusiasm and a happy attitude, and you'll do much better than if you enter your journey with fear and apprehension."

Molly x

September 12th: News, booze and kangaroos

Actually that's a lie. This post has absolutely nothing to do with kangaroos and not an awful lot to do with booze either (though it always helps), but I just fancied a rhyming title. Don't think I've ever indulged in a rhyming title before.

Well, since it's ten to four in the morning and I'm still awake, I thought I might as well use the time wisely, so here I am... bed-blogging. I warn you though - though I can't sleep I am exhausted, so this may not make an awful lot of sense. 

So, Scotland. It was cold and full of daddy long legs flapping about but I didn't go there for the weather and certainly not the lack of insects: I can't believe I made it back without a midge bite or two. I also made it back without kissing anyone, which is more than can be said for the other places I've jetted off to this summer. But that's another story. I went to Scotland for music purposes and developments have indeed been made! Here goes:

On Saturday I had an absolutely hilarious evening at Hannah's (the girl who plays the guitar) and with the help of two glasses of wine and the hindrance of two very overexcited dogs, we composed a new song! Hannah came up with some new guitar music and then we fit most of the lyrics to it. It's faster and catchier than our first one. Unfortunately we didn't record it this time as Hannah was working when we went to Steve's (the guy with the recording studio), so we'll leave it for next time. It's got a lot of potential though, so we're both excited about it.

We went to Steve's on Monday and At Last is now finished - at last! It certainly has taken its time. We did four recordings of it and then chose the best bits of each one, and then Steve edited it and sent it to us that evening, ready for when Hannah came over and we worked on our new song some more. I really hope that one day we'll get to record it properly, but at the moment I'm still in "Oh my God, I recorded a song! I'm doing another one! An actual live collab like I always wanted!" mode. It's such an amazing experience and I really can't believe I actually got to do it. It's crazy!

I got home from Scotland on Tuesday and on Saturday, my friends and I went out for our 'last

 supper' - a visit to Old Orleans, the restaurant that has marked several celebrations for us, such as the end of exams both last year and this - in fancy dress. Fancy dress, no less, in the theme of various countries' national dress codes. When I was in Fuerteventura last month I acquired a Flamenco outfit, so I wore that. Lauren was Hawaiian, Zoe was French (complete with moustache), and Becky and Charlotte totally ignored the dress code (but still made an effort) by pitching up in Hogwarts uniforms. We made an interesting sight, wandering through Reading dressed like that. It was a brilliant evening though, full of laughs - though we didn't actually get round to the whole goodbye bit, so we're having a last last... er, Starbucks on Thursday for that purpose. 

And perhaps the biggest news I have to impart is that time is drifting on and I will find myself, in six days' time, filling one of the many rooms in York St John's accommodation with a selection of the crap that has been accumulating throughout my life. (I went uni shopping on Friday and the spare room is now stacked with assorted bits and pieces that people have decided I need for my new life. I even have a rather fabulous spatula. And who'd have thought there'd be so many different kinds of frying pan?)


I have less than a week left here in my room in the oh-so-familiar, oh-so-endearingly-equally-filled-with-poshness-and-chavs South of England, where I have spent my entire life to date. I've never left it for more than two weeks at a time, I've never left my family for more than eight days, and it's only just dawning on me that it's really happening now. It's time. I'm really leaving. I'll have new people to meet, a new city to explore - I'll be living in a city! You can only truly understand the thrill that gives me if you, like me, have spent your entire life in the middle of bloody nowhere.


You know shit's getting real when you change your location on Facebook.

Seriously though. I'm leaving my family and I'm leaving my friends, and as Becky pointed out on Saturday night when we had a deep conversation in the stimulating comfort of First Great Western's Oxford-bound train, it will be the first time that either she or I have gone somewhere new without knowing anybody, as we've had each other everytime we've changed schools so far. I'll miss having people there who know me, and who are there for me, and who will listen even when things are hard to say. Who'll be there to recognise private jokes when they come up in conversation, or to spend ten minutes laughing so hard we can't breathe, or to reminisce about the past with? And who's going to be there to do five-way-"safe"s with? 



I wasn't nervous about going to university until a couple of days ago, but the closer it gets and the more people tell me it'll be the best years of my life, the more terrified I become. There are some things I find really hard to talk about and some times I really don't want to be alone, and the prospect of going somewhere where I will be alone scares me - because at least now I have people around me who know everything about me, and the things that are hard to say aren't so hard when people know. I don't cry often, but I have tears in my eyes now thinking about leaving my friends. I can't help wondering what life will do to us and whether our friendships will survive the next three years and beyond, no matter how hard we try. Life always has a habit of getting in the way, and the thing about old friends is that they've seen you grow up. The past is what makes you who you are, and my friends and I have seen each other become the people we are today. That's irreplaceable. So, Becky, Zoe, Charlotte and Lauren, whatever may happen throughout the next few years, you have been my childhood friends. We have shared so many firsts, discussed so many fears and had so many laughs and nothing will ever replace that. Thank you. 


Molly x


P.S. If you want to hear At Last, you can find it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHjr0wId-TE

P.P.S The gaps in this post are SO ANNOYING.

September 3rd: On the move

Since I created this blog, it's been a personal bugbear of mine that there isn't a Blogger app for BlackBerry, so I'm absolutely thrilled to say that I have finally worked out how to post to Blogger in the rare event that my arse isn't firmly fixed before my laptop.
 
Email blogging! Brilliant! I always knew it was possible to text-blog but my phone never capitulated, so this is the absolute shiz. Now I can spam my dear bloglings from wherever I happen to be! Aren't you just so pleased?
 
Well really. There's no need to make that face. At least now I'm less likely to leave you post-less for weeks on end.
 
Well, I have nothing new to tell you yet, so this is just a quick test to see if it actually works.
 
See you soon, bloglings!
 
Molly x

September 2nd: Posting from elsewhere again

Hello bloglings - I'm in Scotland!

I know, I've barely been back in England a week and already I've buggered off somewhere else. Right now I'm sitting in my grandparents' shop (it's closed, I haven't just invaded) and since I have the use of a computer (my BlackBerry doesn't work here; the highlands of Scotland are ridiculously signal deprived but so awesome it makes up for it) I thought I'd update you all on what's occurring in my once-boring-but-all-of-a-sudden-quite-busy life. I thought I'd have quite a calm two weeks before I leave for York, but it seems that things are getting more and more hectic as the days pass. There's just so much to do; getting all the finance stuff sorted, packing, buying all my kitchen equipment - and of course practicing for my driving test - so it's quite a funny time to come to Scotland but I've been trying to make time ever since I went last year and in the end I just figured it would never happen if I didn't force it to. So here I am!

Any new bloglings won't know this, but my grandparents have a friend called Steve, who owns a recording studio, and last year I recorded a song there which I didn't quite finish (but only in my eyes, it seems), so now I'm here to perfect it. Apparently I'm going to Steve's on Monday morning and hopefully I'll get it up to the standard I want it before I return to England on Tuesday. I'm SO excited! The whole recording experience is amazing (anyone who hasn't read July 21st's post from last year should refer to it now - it's ridiculously long but it's got all the information about this particular subject in there). I don't really have much to tell you yet but just you wait...

Just a quick update really, so I'll inflict the rest of my life on you next week.

Molly x