Up-To-Date

My lips are blue. Not, as one may imagine, some bizarre twenty-first century make-up choice, but the result of sleeping inside an igloo. You see, I have recently (ish) moved out of my mushroom-growing, mould-spreading, damp little flat into a glorious and beautiful house with my three girlfriends. Despite the obvious perks (no more spores growing on my lungs), it transpires that our house is possibly the coldest in the British North-East. And that is rather cold. Last night, I shivered myself to sleep in pyjamas, socks, six blankets and a duvet, sandwiching my head between two pillows. These precautions, however, were futile, as I jolted awake at some ungodly hour with my lips swollen and purplish-blue. This facial disfiguration, although painful and horrendous at 3am, does not stop me adoring my new abode. I have spread my belongings as far and wide as the hallway, living-room, upstairs cupboard and shed-in-the-yard. I have bought new pans. I even have plants, which are flourishing (well, not dying). In a word, I am loving it. Ok, that is two words, but my joy is such that I feel compelled to break the rules. Because of this, I can handle a restricted facial blood-flow.

Autumn has officially embraced the North-East. Piles of leaves litter the floor, there is condensation on my window, I favour woolly tights and scarves, and I am drinking lots of hot milk. Summer is a distant memory; more so than a couple of months, actually, seeing as we didn't actually have a decent summer this year. I spent my time scuttling around the country, slaving away to earn a few pennies, and promptly spending them all on a brand new laptop. This excites me, even though I don't actually know how to use the laptop yet. I also won a lovely place on an Arvon course in Shropshire, which took many hours to get to, but was absolutely fantastic. I also volunteered at Latitude festival with Holly, which was fun (apart from the blisteringly cold and miserable eight-hour shift running from midnight to 8am). None of these, however, can compare to our VERY VERY EXCITING trip to Neeewwwwww Yoooorrrrrkkkkk.

Yes! I traversed the land to stay with Anthony and his family, accompanied once more by Holly. We shamelessly did all the touristy things, spend inordinate amounts of money, ate all the American food (a lot) and learnt the lingo. The nine-hour flight was a small mark on the trip, but a week swimming in Anthony's pool, playing baseball and hanging at the mall (oh yes, I know how these things go) was fantastic. I would definitely recommend America, if you can ignore the Americanness of it.

Shortish post, but this is more of an info-filler than a hoot. I have work to do (Hollyoaks, Sky Apple Cafe, Cluny Craft Market, town shopping)