BLACK SWAN GREEN

"Dawn Madden ate too. I saw the cud pulp on her tongue. Closer now, on her crucifix I saw a skinny Jesus. Jesus'd be warmed by her body. Lucky guy."

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Just brill. I wrote something to that effect once about a cellphone in the back pocket of some girl's tight jeans. Anyway, this is better. There's a crucifix! I'm doing homework at the moment, i.e. reading a novel for class, the novel being David Mitchell's 'Black Swan Green'. It's mildly entertaining and very well detailed, but also quite chavvy. I hate chavvy. But he does it well. But if you must read something by Mitchell, no matter what my lecturer says, read 'Cloud Atlas'.

Pardon the regurgitated lameness of my last two posts. I did them last night after a gruelling first shift at the bar. My brain just didn't care to engage my fingers in any more activity after all the till-work from last night. Anyway, I've fully recuperated (sp?) so here's a bit of a post for ya. So...today was supposed to be the Horror Movie Day/Sleepover with my Uni friends but it got postponed, which works for me because I slept the entire shockingly beautiful and sunny day away (I was peering through my curtains everytime I turned in bed, and groaning that I was missing out).

Also my cousin Becks just this second called me to see if I was still going to 333 bar tonight for this Mercer's gig. And seeing as it's in Old Street, and looking at the present time, that won't be happening. BUT HEY! Maybe, just maybe, you live a LOT nearer, have no novels to read tonight, don't look/feel like a vagrant, and are into Radiohead-esque bands. If that is the exact case, then you should probably head down there on my behalf, scope out a white girl with long braided hair and a prominent chin and tell her that I loves her and will get the 4th Twilight novel to her as soon as possible. She's the one that got me hooked on that bloody crap in the first place (pun intended when I say bloody, as it's teenager vampire chronicles).

In other news, I just applied for my National Insurance number. This bar is very picky.

Moving on! I want to introduce a few new characters into the blog mix. One, I am calling 11, because she lives next door in room...got it? As simple as that. She's from Boston and we're flatmates and friends now so I'm sure she'll come up a lot, especially since she has a penchant for drinking too much wine, complaining about British standards, and the occassional social smoke; like me. Also because we're the international outsiders in the block and will ALWAYS run into each other anyway.

There are two other int'l guys we met in the neighbouring block who aren't half bad, and don't mind sharing their weed (not my thing, but occasionally 11's). You might be hearing more from them too, not sure. I think I'll just call them S&M (HAHA!) because they're inseperable anyways so can be labelled as one, and because, fittingly enough, those are the letters of their first names. Loves it.

Lastly, I was introducing myself to all the bartenders who will be on shift with me on a Wednesday night, and one of them is a third year Roehampton student as well! The more I talk to him, the more familiar he seems but we seem to have been clueless about each other before now. We take the same bus home at night now, and he knows tons of my friends. We've agreed since we constantly get in each other's way behind the bar and 'sorry' flies out of our mouths more than anything (which can get pretty annoying), that we will no longer care to apologize and that it will be understood that we will always bump into each other, esp. now since we know we walk the same campus everyday, and share the same bloody friends too! So, he'll be called...Barfly. Don't know why. Accept it.

So, to recap, I'm sharing halls (and plastic dishes and cutlery as well, actually) with 11, roll-up's with S&M and night buses with Barfly. Are we clear?