belonging, and ironic photographs!
Jan. 11th, 2004 11:51 amI'm in Cambridge again and everything's unreal. The last day and a half I have had more energy than in the last two weeks together. I have packed, unpacked, shopped, emptied suitcases, filled cupboards, blutacked fourteen posters and countless postcards to various walls, doors and oak panelling, moved furniture, done filing, alphabetised bookshelves and CD racks, collected mail, paid bills. I have drunk alcopops, red bull, white wine, cider and (with help) an entire bottle of Triple Crown Croft Ruby Port. Last night I had a long and fascinating chat with Yves in the pub, which got better as we each became less nervous; I walked her to Trinity and, fumbling in my bag for a biro, eventually gave her my phone number in eyeliner on the back of a receipt, leaning against the grainy stone of the wall outside the porter's lodge. I practically skipped back to college beaming all over my face, and ended up going to another pub with the guys from Downing until closing time. I was back in my room at midnight, making further progress with my packing, when Yves and Catriona turned up completely unexpectedly at the door of my room and didn't leave until 2.30am. The phone number had turned out to be very illegible, and they had decided to adventure into Downing instead. We made inroads on the port and talked about acting and sex and friendships and spirituality, and I felt as though I was on the outside of something extraordinary, looking in, and at the same time very much, in that moment, a part of it.
Twelve hours in this town and I'm a social animal again. I slept beautifically, waking now and then only to drink some water, smile to myself, revel in the absolute softness of my bed and effortlessly fall asleep again. This morning I went into town with Iain to buy lightbulbs and mushrooms and the sky was a brilliantly cold, pale blue, dazzling through the bare branches of trees. The wind whipped my skirt around my ankles and I had to keep pushing my hair behind my ears, shading my eyes against the wintry glare of the sun. I spent the rest of the day getting my room in order, decorating and rearranging the fairylights which Yves had helped me put up haphazardly at 12.30am last night, standing on the desk in my socks to dangle them over the curtain rail. My room is beautiful and warm and perfect. I feel utterly at home here, although it's already so different from last term. In it I have a pewter dragon goblet and cream pillar candles on the mantlepiece, a rosary above it and stars on the wall. I have five shelves of books, two desks, two unopened bottles of white wine, incense, a box of absinthe sweets, an artist's mannequin and a cup and saucer with the college crest in crimson, stolen from formal hall. I've played Quake and watched Withnail & I with Iain, and we finished the port and my dinner while the wind moaned between the walls. The wind is constant and so strong that locked doors blow open, including the outside door to our staircase which is meant to only be opened by security code. The lads are trying to wedge it shut right now with bits of cardboard; even the gusts between hinges and window-latches are freezing, and my gas fire is on full. I love the nights here, how the streetlamps in the quad are so incongruous and Narnia-esque, making you feel as if you should be in a park or a London street rather than a Cambridge college. I'm fuzzy and pink-cheeked with the port and listening to vintage jazz, loathing the superficiality and prettinesses of what I'm writing but not caring because it's true, this is where I am, this is what makes me happy. I'm surrounded by beautiful things and full of hope. I tried to take photographs of my room with my new digicam but they all came out blurred, probably because I was swaying too much to hold the camera steady.


Who said anything about trying to be artistic? This is sheer drunken exuberance.
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on 2004-01-11 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 03:59 am (UTC)*insert random fandom "but WHY has all the port gone?!!" comment*
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on 2004-01-11 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 03:58 am (UTC)How are you doing, anyway? xx
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on 2004-01-11 05:08 pm (UTC)What did you think of Withnail, watched to the end...?
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on 2004-01-12 03:55 am (UTC)Actually, the curse is continuing ... we didn't manage to get to the end 'cause he's arranged to meet up with his friend that evening and didn't realise how long he had. But we're going to finish it tonight. I've read the booklet thing in the DVD though, so I sort of know how it ends ... I have to say it's even funnier sober. And there are loads of bits I half-remember, and some parts I think I must have just dozed through cause I don't remember them at all. Ah, Paul McGann is so fit. I would so do him.
ps. Have you SEEN the pictures of me wenching at new year?! argh! I think I win the "Looking Like A Slut" prize ...
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on 2004-01-12 07:11 am (UTC)Paul Mcgann is a beast. Ellie and I always thought that, but no-one agreed. Did you at least watch the Monty-in-make-up scene?!
and ps: BWAHAHAHA! Actually, I think you look really lovely in the awake one, and the second one is indeed cute. Of course, you look slightly slutty, but after the Wendyhouse wenching pictures of me I don't think you need worry too much.
Hmmmm... *still awaiting the 'oh shit, I have to cancel and, err, comb my eyebrows' text*
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on 2004-01-12 07:26 am (UTC)nooo... didn't get that far. They're still at the farm. We haven't even got to the bull scene yet.
I quite like the first one of me. My arms are a bit wobbly but I have semi-nice thighs. although there's something SERIOUSLY WRONG with my bosoms in the second one ...
oh and I know it's not funny, but that made me giggle for ages. he won't dare cancel. if he does we'll put leeches in his underwear or something. xx
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on 2004-01-12 08:00 am (UTC)I was going to compliment your bosoms, actually, but fair enough. You do look suitably wenchish, anyway.
If he dares cancel I will stomp a lot and seek revenge - a fate worse than a fate worse than death. Fact. Jeez, he'll be here in an hour. If he doesn't text soon I'm actually going to have to walk to the station... x
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on 2004-01-11 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 03:56 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 01:30 am (UTC)Have you seen the lovely photo of you and Richard going round on Commune yet? ;)
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on 2004-01-12 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 02:07 am (UTC)that one's terrible. you can see my BUM. argh. although at least I don't have a massive great dodgy brown stain all down my dress shirt...
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on 2004-01-12 11:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-12 04:14 am (UTC)The card actually came ages ago but I've been slow replying because I've been travelling around England, including a day trip last Friday to Cambridge. WOW. Now I understand why you're so passionate about it. I was fascinated, enthralled, and didn't want to leave. You capture it beautifully in postings like this one.
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on 2004-01-12 04:40 am (UTC)And I'm SO pleased you liked cambridge. It's a wonderful town. Which bits in particular did you see?
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on 2004-01-12 06:21 am (UTC)Emmanuel College, King's College, Trinity College, break for tea at The Little Tea Shop (so charming!), tried to get to Jesus College but got turned around and somehow ended up going in circles, which we only realized on our second trip down Portugal Place. Detoured off toward Magdalene and St. John's Colleges instead. Wandered around the centre of town for a bit and then found our way to Jesus (I think we got lost again in the process; I didn't have a map and so was at the mercy of those "You are here" boards). Fell in love with the worn-down step at the gate and tried to take a picture of it but realized I looked silly and didn't. Also peeked at Sidney Sussex and Christ's Colleges.
Walked down the river for a while. Tried to poke my head inside the Old Schools and a few other off-limit places and was firmly rebuffed each time. In hindsight, I realize I should have spent the money on a guided tour to see more of the inner bits, but at the time £8 seemed like gouging. I also really wanted to spend some time in the Wren Library but it's only open during term. Guess I'll just have to go back. :)
On the walk back to the train station I went via Tennis Court Road to walk by Downing: in the drizzling rain it was moody, sombre, and gorgeous.
I don't want to sound like I'm fawning, but England never ceases to amaze me. Cambridge ties with the British Library as favourites of the places I've seen.
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on 2004-01-13 05:49 am (UTC)Actually, Catriona and I were raving about you all the way home. You fit right into Yves-and-Catriona-world more than anyone we've ever met.
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on 2004-01-13 05:57 am (UTC)right, miss. as soon as I finish this latin, you're getting a letter!
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on 2004-01-14 08:28 am (UTC)