{February 29, 2012}   An Apology & An Update

Lesson of the day: Know what it is you can do before you promise to do it.

From now on the Doctor Who story instalments will posted every second day, with the next instalment tomorrow at 7:00. I must also emphasise that this time I am only saying this in hope – I am not promising. Each part takes up, at the very least, 3 hours of solid work and every idle thought before then in brainstorming ideas. It’s a wonderful idea to do 1 story in a week in daily instalments, but at the moment it’s just too much for me. I have so many other things praying on my mind, like the essay I have due on Tuesday, the wish I made (more on that in another blog), and I’ve been sleeping really light… and I can’t believe it but all that is making me wish that the next instalment will be the last! And I’ve only done 2 so far. I know things are bad when I go to the Bay, my favourite place, to think about Doctor Who, my favourite show, and quickly end up with an unshakeable migraine.

Whenever I do post a new instalment, it’ll be at 7:00pm. I can promise the time at least if not the date.

So… the time is 4:54. I’m off to bed with BBCiPlayer – finally I can watch “The Bleak Old Shop Of Stuff”.

Good night & best wishes xox


{February 28, 2012}   The Hollow Room ~ Part 2

In a dark room somewhere, a light began to glow. Out of the empty space, to the sound of something churning and grinding, a big blue box began to materialise. The light and sound increased with its gradual appearance, and with a hollow thud it all stopped. The door opened and a young woman with long hair stuck her head out.

“Empty room again.”


There was a crash and a clang, and then the Doctor left the box. He spun around the room, surveying it with annoyance, before turning on the time machine.

“There’s nothing here old girl. What’s up with you now?”

He opened the door and leaned in, as though expecting it to answer him. Nothing. He growled to himself and turned to address his companion in a grandiose gesture but found himself facing an empty room.


Lyra was busy taking photographs when the Doctor burst in. Their accidental destination wasn’t quite as dull as the storeroom they’d landed in had suggested. While it was obviously quite old and rundown, the great hall was still undeniably impressive. A wide staircase filled much of the space, leading to even more halls and doors. The Doctor stood by the doorway and stared pointedly at her.

“I don’t know what you’re all huffed up about – we’ve come here twice now, I’d say that’s worth investigating, don’t you?”

“But we need to get to…”

She looked up from her camera.

“…the place! It’s a surprise.”

Lyra walked up the staircase and looked around before drawing out a dictaphone.

“Oh now that’s too much, that’s just silly.”

“Oh? Voice notes are silly but walkie-talkies are a good idea?”

He fumbled at the gift walkie-talkie she’d given him earlier.

“That’s different. Walkie-talkies are cool. Anyway, we are going, no questions, come along now. Oh… No. We’re not.”

The Doctor stood on the threshold of the storage room, staring at something Lyra couldn’t see. She tucked away the dictaphone and ran to his side. There was a moment of silence as the Doctor walked forwards and held up a hand to where the TARDIS used to be.

He turned back to her with a look of concern, and said;

“You know what this means, don’t you?”


“Oh Lyra, you’re supposed to say ‘Investigation!‘ or something like that, make it a snappy, dramatic moment, not some classroom mundanity. Now let’s go explore the rest of the house.”

“Wait! How about, “Empty room again“, like before?”

“Yes! That would have been pretty good. But the moment’s lost, now let’s go!”

With this the mad man zipped past her and bolted up the stairs to where she stood before, making a mental map of where all the doors and hallways were and how they might connect up. One hand instinctively reached for his sonic screwdriver and within moments he was waxing lyrical about the peculiar readings he was picking up.

“There’s definitely life in the place, but it’s almost as if something’s disrupting the signal, yes exactly as if something’s disrupting the signal.”

He looked up and gestured at an apparently random door.

“Lyra, go in there and see if something weird happens.”

“What? Why?”

“Just trust me, please.”

She gave him a mock suspicious look and approached the door. She turned the handle and pushed, letting the door sway open in front of her before walking inside. It was normal. A normal sitting room with no monsters or aliens waiting for her. She checked that the Doctor couldn’t see her from that angle before addressing the pressing fear that there was something either behind the door or in the shadows by the armchair. Still unnerved by the Doctor’s request, she strode out again.

“Nothing there, Doctor. Just, a normal room.”

“Good, just what I thought.”

He checked her face for annoyance. There was plenty. He smiled.

“Anyway, we need to search every room. There is-”

From one of the upper hallways there was a shattering sound accompanied by shouts. For a moment Lyra froze to the spot, but she was quickly brought around by the Doctor running towards the stairs, tugging her along by the arm and shouting “Come on, come on!” They raced up, following the sound of screaming, and as they approached the door, the sound of dark laughter echoed outwards.


<The above is part 2 of a 7-part piece of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.>


Part 1: http://hobbyharri.com/2012/02/27/the-hollow-room-part-1/

{February 27, 2012}   The Hollow Room ~ Part 1

In a dark faded house, somewhere in Cardiff, a window was broken. If someone was inside, they would have seen a baseball bat bob up behind the frame and tap out the  few remaining shards before disappearing again. The short boy tossed the bat inside with a heavy clatter, and turned to grin.

“Right, who wants a leg-up?”

“What, you too afraid to go first?”

“Well if you’re too scared then give me a leg-up.”

One by one the band of teens clambered through the empty frame and assembled in the room, dusting themselves down and assessing the level of cobwebbing. The girl wearing trousers laughed at the second girl when her skirt got caught on a splinter as she climbed in – the weak wood ruptured and in one moment she found herself both involentarily carrying part of the damp windowsill by her waist, and thrashing it off in a panic for fear of maggots. The boys pretended to ignore the incident. George especially.

“So noob, where’s our rations?”

George knelt to unzip his backpack as the short boy stood over him, bat in hand. He wondered how it was possible for someone to be so unintentionally, naturally threatening, and how he might act differently if George was the leader of the pack. He handed the boy a bundle of sweets and a sandwich before giving out the food bundles to the remaining three. By the time he’d finished his duties and pulled his bag back over his shoulder, shorty’s sandwich had already gone, and George was sure he’d have to be giving up his own later. The pale boy picked up an angel figurine from the mantelpiece and waved it at the girl wearing trousers. She smiled and nodded, and the pale boy stuffed it in his bag.

Just tonight. After this, I’ll never have to see them again.

“Noob. Door.”

Right. The reason why I’m here.

George went and knelt by the door, carefully maneuvering wires inside the keyhole. As he worked, the other kids mumbled wry remarks and chuckled behind his back. At one point he felt the bat jab at the back of his neck and the sharp laugh of the pale boy. They wouldn’t even allow him a moment of peace when he needed it most. He wondered for a moment if the one night with them was worth the potential reward.

“Hurry UP, we haven’t-”


George pushed the door open as he stood and strode through, and when he looked back to see their gleeful faces as they welcomed him to the team he felt a dangerous sense of belonging which he was determined to snuff out. The girl in the skirt smiled at him. They all did, but her’s was genuine, he knew. The band surged around the house, enjoying their freedom and the lack of locked doors from then on in, and George ignored the comments that with any other window they wouldn’t have needed him at all.

And as darkness fell, moonlight shone in through a pale glass window on a room with an angel figurine on the mantlepiece, a damp, undamaged windowsill, and a floor devoid of breadcrumbs.

<The above is part 1 of a 7-part piece of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.>

{February 26, 2012}   Doctor Who – An Introduction

As I know a fair number of my readers aren’t too familiar with this beloved series, I thought I ought to do a little introduction before I land them with my upcoming fan-story (fanfiction’s become a dirty word really, this isn’t going to be that kind of story).


Doctor Who

This is a long-running British TV series and a huge part of British culture. Typically defined as a sci-fi show for kids, what it really is is an action-adventure-thriller-fantasy-comedy with a sci-fi premise which allows them to get away with the grandest and most wonderful fantasies while still somehow seeming quite reasonably realistic, and which kids and old people and everyone between can enjoy. It ran for a long time, starting in the 60s, but disappeared from the airwaves for some time. It then came back with instant popularity in 2005 and has been recorded almost every year since.


The Basic Plot

Doctor Who is about a wonderful alien with a love for humanity and a time machine. This man, The Doctor (his true name is unknown, hence “Doctor Who”), travels through space & time with companions from Earth (in the TARDIS), getting into trouble, righting wrongs and generally saving lives, worlds and even existence sometimes. It’s all incredibly epic, trust me. In general though, I’d say, the plot itself isn’t that important. It’s what’s beneath it. Through all these hundreds of stories about madness and wonder and sciency stuff, the real genius of it is the humanity that shines through. I can tell you all this rubbish about it being about an alien and his human companions saving worlds, but really it’s about the human experience. I know this sounds terribly pompous and such but it’s true. It’s about love and fear and every kind of relationship and our beliefs and speculations and our kindness or selfishness and… everything! With adventure, thrills and laughs on top. If you’re not familiar with Doctor Who, find a friend with a DVD of any of the new series and watch one, then you’ll know what I mean.


The Doctor

He’s a Time Lord – a human-looking being with 2 hearts, an intimate knowledge of both history and future and the power of regeneration. This means that if The Doctor dies, he can recover by creating a totally new body. Which is how the series has had 11 different actors playing The Doctor so far. Each time you get a new actor, you get a new Doctor, with a new face and a new personality. It’s a wonderful way for the series both to keep going when the lead actor wants out and to keep reinventing itself. A Time Lord can regenerate 12 times, so far the Doc’s had 10. The current incarnation, played by Matt Smith (above) has made tweed fashionable again. I like tweed, but as far as Britain was concerned it was perhaps the least cool fabric in the world before he started wearing it as the Doc. Now that is the power of a timelord. Also now cool are bowties, fezzes and stetsons, except they were already cool.

He hates violence and guns, arming himself instead with his trusty ‘sonic screwdriver’, a tool that can open any lock and do many other tasks. Kind of like a space-age swiss army knife.

The Doctor is also the last of his kind – all the others and his homeplanet, Gallifrey, were eradicated in a great war between them and their mortal enemy, the Daleks. The aftermath of this was a running, angsty topic for the first 4 series of the new show, but it’s pretty much background knowledge now.



In general the Doctor’s companions have been people from modern day Earth, specifically Britain, but there have been some from different times, planets or continents. Usually women too. Often if there’s a guy in the TARDIS it’s because he’s tagging along with a girl. Whoever they are, the companion(s) are the ones who help the Doctor through all of his life-threatening adventures and help to push him to become a better man, to do the human thing, not take the Time Lord stance. At the moment we have (from left to right) River Song, Rory Williams and Amy Pond (she’s the main one). Rory is Amy’s man, and they’re travelling with the Doctor because… he met her, a long time ago. You need to watch it – it’s too magical, I refuse to spoil it for you. It’s episode 1 of series 5, a good place to start if you want to get into the new stuff fast. And River, well she’s just one big spoiler in bombastic wrapping. Go on, watch an episode. You want to get to know them.



The Doctor’s time machine – stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. Outside, it just looks like a normal Police Box (common in Britain in the 60s), but inside… well, let’s just say it’s a bit bigger. And it’s alive. The Doctor’s constant companion.













The Doctor has lots. The nature of the show means that there’s pretty much a new foe every week, but there are some recurring dudes that are as part of the show as the Doc himself. These ones are infamous for making comebacks, no matter how they were previously beaten/killed/vapourised.

Daleks: Monsters bent on destroying all other species in existence to become the master race. They keep their frail bodies encased in unbreakable pods, which have the ability to fire instant-kill lasers (“EXTERMINATE!!!”) and to fly. I cannot explain the plunger.

Cybermen: People who have been ‘upgraded’. These emotionless metal soldiers live to convert or “delete” the inferior human race.

The Master: Another Time Lord. Used to be friends with the Doctor back on Gallifrey. Apparently just went a bit mad and decided that universe-domination and fighting the Doctor were everything, but of course that’s not the whole story.


I think that’s all you need to know to jump into pretty much any episode of the new lot, bar series finales.


Stay tuned: 7:00pm on Monday, I post the first in my 7-part daily story, “The Hollow Room”. If you want to know more, check my blog ‘The Promise of Geek Paradise’ for what to expect (if you’ve read it before, check again – I’ve updated it). It’s become a very interesting project for me, so I’d love for people to have a read, and of course I’d appreciate any feedback you can offer. If you know anyone who might be interested in the story or who could give me good advice, please tell them about this.


See you later dudes.

{February 23, 2012}   Topophilia*

I don’t know why I keep going to the Bay. It’s beautiful and calm and happy people have a tendency to show off their happiness there, but…

I went again today. Never planned on it but the sun was out and I was fixed with the compulsion. I ended up walking to town, buying a wind & rain resistant coat and walking to the Bay, despite the sun then having gone in, the cold wind picking up and the constant but minute, dripping rain. It takes maybe 30 minutes to walk there from my flat, I spent maybe 40 minutes there today and then another 30 walking back. Then when I’m there, the wind makes thinking to any purpose substantially less productive than anywhere else, and the beauty keeps making me forget that I had things I needed to think about. The Bay just calls to me. Not vocally – I’m not that mad.

I just sat there staring at the water as I always do, switching between total distraction, wind-hampered thinking & listening intently to my ipod. It was cold, and harsh, my feet hurt and I think I’m getting a cold, and I want to go again. It just doesn’t make sense.


I’m going home tomorrow after my morning seminar for the weekend – and I mean proper home, back with my family. I’m going to have lots of tea, warm blankets, lit fireplaces, TV shows on an actual TV, restaurant-grade home cooking (gravy-doused chips with lamb and mint sauce, mmm…) a velvety-soft bed and, of course, I get to see my family again. Now this topophilia I can understand.



Note 1: Topophilia means “Love of place”. Refers to affection felt for a certain location, usually a patriotic feeling. A sports fan may experience this with their local stadium, an actor may feel it when standing on a stage. I’d say it’s like a sense of grand belonging. Why I feel this for Cardiff Bay however I have no idea. Like I say, beautiful & peaceful & all, but this is just silly.

Note 2: “-philia” means ‘love of’, not ‘sexual interest for’ – I am not having it off with various Bay landmarks. Just so no one’s worrying/creepily interested.

{February 21, 2012}   The Promise of Geek Paradise

Ok, my plan for the week became a bit more complicated yesterday with the advent of possible BBC work experience and confusions about certain technicalities in Doctor Who lore, so the short story project is being put on hold until next week when I’ll actually have a clue what I’m talking about – and the time to talk about it. When that time comes round, I promise you this:

  • 1 instalment daily for 7 days, leading to a story of over 3,500 words (each ‘episode’ at least 500 words).
  • Each ‘episode’ will be published at 7:00 daily, so you can enjoy it like the TV show.
  • An intrigue-packed story including the Eleventh Doctor, an original companion called Lyra and a Haunted House with lots of locked doors.
  • Will try to have 1 accompanying sketch per instalment.
  • With 1 blog afterwards explaining the experience with a music playlist. Like Doctor Who Confidential.

In other news, I’ve nabbed myself a tour around the TARDIS (*skips away in joy before anyone can ask questions*)

While Valentine’s was uneventful (except for the incident), today was delicious. After my morning lecture I wrapped up in 5 torso layers plus two sets of skinny jeans and 2 pairs of socks, filled a thermos with tea and headed to the Bay again…


Cardiff is finally warm! Summer’s coming! The sun was out! They were selling ice-cream! I had one with a flake and strawberry sauce – at the Bay in February! Kids everywhere, laughing and running and staring at me (I probably did look a bit funny all wrapped up with my coat, scarf & leather hat)! And, ok, there were a few annoying youths out & about on their scooters (are those cool now?) who use their speedy entrances & speedy exits from your zone of attention to get away with being rude to strangers. But most everyone was lovely, and that was only a few of the many young people. Ah. Maybe I really could bring my guitar next time.

I’m going to avoid the Bay for the time being – the half-term busyness plus the fact that I don’t have many guitar tunes memorised makes me think I should stay back here & blitz the practice. You know what? I’ll promise – if there are any days next week that are as good weather-wise as it was today, I will take my guitar down on one of them. Regardless of how good or bad I think I am at it or how many things I have memorised or whether I’d have the confidence to sing along to anything, I am gonna do it. Yeah.


While I was down there, I came up with a good basic premise for next week’s creative writing project: I’ve decided to write a short story (not script) in the Doctor Who world. I’m keeping things simple so that it’s the storytelling I’m focusing on rather than inventing believable, original characters and entire alien societies and so on, so here’s the brief I’ve made for myself:

  • Write every day of next week
  • Minimum of 500 words per day (you don’t get words off the next day if you go over the limit (I know you too well…)
  • Doctor: 11th
  • Companion: **** (an own character (OC) I’m very familiar with)
  • Setting: Present day Cardiff
  • Situation: Haunted House
  • Additional Characters: Small group of kids/teens, challenged to spend a night there.

I figured out a bunch of important things like the nature of the Haunted House and why they go there, and playing through the scenarios it looks like my OC actually complements the Doctor really well. I was kind of nervous about the idea this morning, but I’m really looking forward to it now. I might even get started early… No! Get to guitar practice!


And lastly, the casting website I’m signed up to has started to pay off. While I haven’t heard anything back from the acting jobs I’ve applied to (probably due to my profile picture not being a professional headshot), I have received an offer for modelling. I’ve been offered a free photoshoot with a genuine (I’m good with research) & fairly experienced photographer. He gets to increase his portfolio & practice his art, I get a professional headshot and full-length photos for my acting portfolio – it’s win-win!


I’m on the up.


Night night. xox

{February 13, 2012}   Catching Up & Valentine’s

My world has been lagging a bit recently – but no more! *Superhero pose*


I’m training myself to have more energy and drive during the days by gradually setting my alarm earlier & earlier. I’m only getting up at 8:30 at the moment, but it shouldn’t be too long before I’m back into my school routine of getting up at 6 and doing yoga or something for an hour before going about being generally proactive. If you find yourself feeling like you’re on a low ebb on a daily basis, try this (at least the alarm part) –  it really works wonders for me.

Also, I thought I was getting ill, so I took the ultimate precaution and stayed in bed pretty much all day on Saturday eating 12 of my 5-a-day. Sorted. My skin has a healthy glow besides the tired eyes & unexplainable spots (maybe if I ate more fruit…).

And Uni work? Well thankfully there’s not much yet – coursework begins later, but we do have lecture & seminar work, which has been a bit of an uphill struggle this time. In journalism, we’re learning how to deconstruct media to see how everything is designed to manipulate people into buying the product. I love it – practical psychology. But I’m really struggling to get the terminology right and analyse media properly, which is tiring because analysis is the sort of thing I really want to do well in and usually would… Wanting and trying but not succeeding is such a depressing experience. But I’m gonna get through it! Yeah!


Anyway, I noticed that I haven’t done a lot of writing recently (besides the blog) despite the fact that I want to write screenplays and books for a living. I think I’ll design a writing exercise for next week. Something like I have to write a short story next week and post it on the blog… I make no promise, but I will definitely have a proper writing project on the go.



Valentine’s day is rolling round tomorrow, so I’ll let my friends have their… fun, and I’m going to spend my day at the place I love – bonny Cardiff Bay! I’d bring my guitar but I’m sure it’s still to cold to sit & play, so my notebook & my thermos of tea will be my companions. Maybe I’ll have an early night too, just in case one of my flatmates & their love want to… have their fun. Whatever, I think it’s going to be a lovely day for me. Cafés, tea, lovely snacks, a notebook and some scenic beauty – what more could I ask for?


A house there I suppose. And lots of money. And a job with Doctor Who – Oo! Can I help with a new series of Doctor Who Confidential? Yeah, those are the unreasonable extras I’d ask for.

{February 9, 2012}   Mysteries

There’s a few mysteries that’ve been on my mind lately.



First is a rather pressing but boring one – the Curious Incident of the Drunks in the Night Time. A couple of nights back I was lying in bed, having a wander through the Google-sphere. Outside, there was a gradual crescendo of looping songs from a large group of young, pissed students. When they finally reached our courtyard, the sounds only decayed and renewed whenever they forgot what they were singing or someone reminded them. Sounded like the girls in the group had come to visit someone in particular. I hope so, otherwise they were shouting friendly obscenities at strangers’ windows. Eventually they gave that up and I could hear metallic-plastic thumps and rattles with girly laughter – the men picking fights with the trash dumpsters, egged on by their potential bedmates. You can probably tell I’m not a fan of this form of entertainment. It does seem my writing gets more upper-class the less content I am with the world around me. Anyway, what followed was a hushed activity – by sound they seemed to move closer, but downwards from me. Knowing the only two routes that way and judging by the sudden conspiratorial murmuring, I searched for my headphones. Unfortunately I couldn’t find them, so I had to get a coat & go outside to wait for the fire alarm to stop blaring.


Today we all received letters explaining the severity of the matter – how it’s not just antisocial but against the law and so on. The problem is, if no one owns up, everyone in the block will have to split the cost of the damaged equipment. I don’t want this. Now, I have hopes that they’ll make the mistake of drunkenly attacking our fire alarm again so I could sneakily take photos of them, or that at least one will remember what happened and own up. Unfortunately, I have HIGH bets that this won’t happen. I mean besides the natural ‘people won’t own up to antisocial behaviour to lessen the majority’s issues when they can get away with it’ and the fact that people, drunk or not, tend not to attack fire alarm systems, let alone the same one twice.


The facts that the girls were visiting someone they knew, they were rude, they then egged on the boys to have a whack at the dumpsters, before finally activating the fire alarm in this block and disappearing, not to return… They don’t live in this block, but the person they were targeting does – with their verbal jabs not having any or any significant impact, they decided to get to the target another way – first by a bit of noise, possibly intending to tip one of the dumpsters over to create noise, mess & annoyance, possibly thinking it could wake their target up or at least annoy them in the morning (drunk logic is never perfect). They then thought of setting off the fire alarm – the ultimate annoyance, after which they fled the scene. They don’t live here, so they won’t even have had the letters or threats of everyone being charged. In fact, with these motives, they’ve had a double victory. There’s nothing I can do but keep my camera handy & hope.





The ending to Series 2 of the BBC’s ‘Sherlock’. I just rewatched the Sherlock finale with my friend – her first time seeing it. Noticed far too many things that were odd. Now I have loads of evidence picking at my head, loads of theories. I’m going to force it all to rest because I’m sure that whatever the solution is it won’t be entirely contained in the evidence provided – there’ll be lots of things we just had no way of knowing beforehand. Plus the only theories that fit so far aren’t very dramatically satisfying. But who knows, maybe they’re only dramatically satisfying once they’ve been dramatised. Either way, I have absolute faith in the writers, and I don’t want to spoil my epic surprise much more than I have already. I will write a list of all the suspicious things though… but this blog won’t see it at least until the reveal is aired. I don’t want to risk helping the army of spoiler monkeys out there who are actually trying to work it out, & then to spoil it for the rest of us. Even though I’m sure that they won’t be able to :}


Not really a mystery as such, at least not one that needs solving. There’s an unknown graffiti artist around my area that has a very pleasant signature piece. Most numpties that get ahold of spray paint just write things, like their name or something stupid like that (who the hell writes their name at the scene of a crime?). But this one is good. Not only is it an actual picture, but it’s a simple, well-done and smile inducing picture. All of these cropped up in quick succession and I haven’t seen any new ones since. All of them in monochrome except the most recent one. But they’re so nice, I can’t see why anyone would object to having them dotted around the neighbourhood (unless they were on their house or place of business – the reason why one’s been painted over already). Anyway, here’s a couple:

As you can see from the surroundings, it makes a nice change from both the bleak concrete walls and the typical scrawls and edgy bubble writing you tend to see everywhere.

{February 6, 2012}   HobbySherley

I spent another evening watching Sherlock episodes with my friend, who’s been forcibly absent from most of the last couple of weeks of my life because she’s house-hunting with her man. Apparently I remind her of Sherlock. I think she only meant in the ‘smart person who likes to find & solve puzzles’ sense, so a nice big compliment, but I’ll have to check 🙂 I also finally introduced her to my love of loves, Doctor Who, via Doctor Who Confidential & bloopers. She said she can really see why I want to work for them. Oh it’s brilliant! Just can’t wait till a new series rolls around!



Being compared to Sherlock does bother me though. Obviously there’s many incredibly flattering aspects to it… he has a fantastic curiosity that he pursues whole-heartedly, which I think I share to some extent – the only thing stopping me from training myself to walk as well on my hands as I can on my feet is aesthetics and priorities. The proof of this is that I am in fact training my feet to work like hands for small, unintricate tasks. Yes really. But then there’s all the other things…


The fact that I honestly don’t care at all about charities, or famine in Africa or the homeless living on the same streets that I walk on in the freezing winter – there I said it. I don’t care a single little bit. And why should I?  The fact that I’ve a long-running tendency to avoid romance because it’ll get in the way of my independent, hobby-improving-focused lifestyle, or simply that ‘I don’t have time’. It’s all just too distracting and too disrupting. I don’t even understand that whole culture – Dates? Flirting? To me “Want to come back to my place?” is an entirely friendly offer, but to anyone else I may as well add the suffix “bouncy-bouncy! *wink*.” Then, the fact that I generally ignore pretty well everyone beyond my natural courteousness and curiosity unless they take an interest in me, and even then I stay suspicious.

The fact that my best friend wouldn’t be that if she hadn’t talked to me that first day, asking about my juggling, and stuck with me.

Heh. I sound awful.

But then I have the other side of me. The part that’s often felt but rarely heard. The part that twists at all the above admittances and tells me that I shouldn’t be like that. That I should care. That I should comfort a crying person, even if I can’t understand it. That I deserve love and should therefore let it in – to hell with becoming my idea of perfection. The part that wants me to be more… human. The part of me that’s making me write these blog so damn honestly.



She’s nearly at the end of her house-hunting stage, which means that she won’t be so tied up all the time. I love spending all my free time drinking tea in cafés, theorising and practicing guitar, but I have been missing having time with her after lectures to just hang out, just us two. No offence to her man, but it’s so much nicer to have best buddy time rather than best buddy plus her loverboy time. Plus when it’s just us I get more admiring compliments. I don’t mean to sound clingy or dependent or emotional (there I go again), but I don’t know what my life here would be like without her. In a world without adventure & I write my own story, she is my Watson. And her man is like that Mary that Watson marries… Except I’m not going to try & drive them apart like Holmes tries to in the movies. Though, if adventure should suddenly call, he must understand that she’s got to be my sidekick. This is a nice train of thought – I’m going to go away & daydream on that now & tomorrow I’ll be back to my usual ‘Compliments? For me? Ha, whatever you say!’ self.

et cetera