Chinese new year, London style!

We went to see the celebrations in Chinatown today, and I thought I'd share some of the photos. I won't apologise for my appalling photography skills, you must all be used to it by now!

The start of the parade

Some of the professional dancers

The street decorations in Chinatown...

And some more.

My bag missed so my wish won't come true, but it still looks pretty.

This was a particularly amusing highlight from a free fortune cookie my brother was given.

I love London on days like today, it was so interesting! I learnt so much and saw such amazing things. I wish I could have taken more photos but the crowds made it almost impossible. It was a very good morning though! 

Kung Hei Fat Choi, everyone! 

Reasons that I hate winter.

I chose the blogging alias "Summer" for a reason and that is very simply because I love the summer! I love the sun, the long days, the warmth, the barbeques, the time on the beach, the time spent in beer gardens drinking chilled cider... I really could go on forever. I won't, however, because this post is geared for the exact opposite - an "I hate the winter" rant.

I mean, seriously, who likes winter? All this nonsense about loving to snuggle up indoors is a load of rubbish. The only reason we have to snuggle up indoors with duvets and hot water bottles is because the weather outside is horrible. It's cold, rainy and windy and without looking like the michelin man, there is no way to escape that once you step outside. And yeah, don't get me wrong, being snuggled on the sofa with a hot chocolate and a duvet is great... once in a while. When it becomes a necessity because otherwise it's just too cold to sit there, the novelty very quickly wears off.

I'm not denying it's pretty, just better to look at than
to be outside in.

The short days are the worst, and there is nothing more depressing than getting up in the dark, walking to school in the dark and getting home in the dark. When the only daylight you see is when you are on playground duty you know this is a season that cannot end soon enough. It makes everything harder, particularly getting up, and even the smallest of trips outside becomes the ultimate chore (taking the bins out, walking to the corner shop etc) because not only is the weather foul, but nipping out even for a minute involves putting on layer after layer to avoid completely freezing.

I guess in some ways I could be swayed by the food (when has my stomach not dictated my mood?), because the warm, hearty meals you can indulge in at this time of year are a treat which wouldn't be so pleasant if it weren't for the cold outside. But even that is with its downfall because the heavy food only instills even more lethargy than is already being felt due to the lack of daylight. Bring back the lighter salads any day, as much as I do love a stew.

And please do not get me started on snow. I mean, in what way is snow fun after the first 15 minutes? The whole country grinds to a halt, it's cold, wet and debilitating. Not fun.

Christmas might just save it for me this year, because it's all new being in London and, for the first time since the age of 5, I will be seeing ALL of my family over Christmas. But even so, I'd be much happier doing that in the sun...

Happy Sunday.

Happy Sunday everyone!

I've had an absolutely lovely day to round off a great weekend. I went out for the afternoon with a couple of the other teachers from school and one brought her little'un along. We went to Greenwich park to play on the slide and swings (and the adults blatantly enjoyed this more than littlie in the cold), then we went for lunch in an absolutely lovely restaurant where I had a goats cheese tart with caramelised onions and rocket salad with dripping chips on the side. (I realise you didn't need/want to know that detail, but I tend to remember places and events through the food I ate. Is that weird?)

It was such a lovely, relaxing day and so nice to finally get to know some new people. Obviously I see everyone at work and we get on when we're chatting in the staff room, but having friends to call upon outside of school really is my aim right now and it was lovely to have that today. I think this is another one of the many things I missed out on through having to traipse across London to see my ex every weeken but now that my time is my own, I can make new friends.

Yay for me :)

Hopping about on crutches...

I've been stuck on crutches now since Saturday and whilst I can at least put my foot down now, realistically, I'm going to be stuck on the bloody things for the rest of the week. And it is driving me slightly mental.

Hopping mad, actually. Couldn't ignore the obvious pun, sorry.

But seriously, it has been a very revealing few days.

1) London hospitals are much more efficient than Devon ones. I was in and out of A&E within two hours on Saturday, saw the same doctor the entire way through and he even remembered my name. Much kudos to the NHS South London.

2) People are generally kind and courteous in that they will hold doors open, provide lifts etc, but only if it suits them. If it involves leaving someone alone with a class of 30 children whilst unable to walk so that you can keep your own teaching assistant to do your sticking in, people will choose the sticking in rather than helping. My so-called colleagues have made me cry so many times this week I've pretty much lost count and just plain stopped leaving my classroom. I hate that place this right now.

3) People apply health and safety rules when it suits them. We have a culture in this country of being too scared to do lots of things in case of health and safety concerns but if it means paying for a supply teacher, no-one cares. Get in to school, teach PE, keep doing playground duty... oh, but cancel your school trip and make your children cry because you had spent all term getting them excited for meeting a real Roman and going to a real Roman town and now you're not going. Because it's fine to be a health and safety/fire hazard when you are in school, but don't show us up outside of school.

4) There is a nice sense of camaraderie between people who find walking etc difficult. It's the first and only time that a stranger has spontaneously spoken to me in London just for a chat and to exchange stories.

5) Walking with crutches is the best way to get around central London markets on Sundays. People move out of the way, part a path to any stall you want to get to, you always get a seat on the tube, bus and train.

Every cloud has a silver lining...

Unexpected homesickness.

When I moved to London in July, I had been counting the days, hours and minutes for months (if not years) because getting away from there was my ultimate dream. I finally did it: I moved here, set up home, managed on my own despite threatening neighbours, living in a dodgy area, having all my furniture go missing and being skint. It has been absolutely everything I thought it would and more and I am so glad I did it. I love my pokey, slightly rough-round-the-edges flat and I love the independence I finally have.

Yet, I am still feeling homesick. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want to go home on a permanent basis by any stretch of the imagination but I am having serious Devon cravings and I miss my family and friends so much it actually hurts to think about. I need a pasty, a walk to the beach and a chat with my Grandma; I need a flipping good night out with my girls and a catch up in the pub; I miss my guinea pigs and more than anything, I miss the people. It really has been a don't-realise-what-you've-got-til-it's-gone moment with them: I spent so much time focussing on what a shithole Plymouth is (and it is, I'm not denying that) that I forgot that actually, especially in the last couple of years, I had been very happy there and it was entirely down to the people. My friends picked me up when I was down, my family stood by me even when things got very tough between us all and now I really miss their companionship.

I guess I am, actually, getting a bit lonely here. I haven't seen anyone other than work people or my boyfriend for weeks because I've been so skint and it is, unfortunately, the one downside to living alone. I must rectify that this week, I must get out of the house.

I've booked my train tickets back home for half term at least, but it still seems like an age away despite how quickly the last three weeks have flown by.

Just down the road, the exact spot I intend to stuff my face with pasty.

It'll come round soon, though. And bring on the pasty ♥

Notting Hill Carnival

Yesterday, me and a friend from university (who also moved to London recently) hit the Notting Hill Carnival. Neither of us had been before and it was, well, amazing!

This was the exact reason I moved to London.

When we first got there, we kind of followed the route around having a dance and generally joining in with whatever we went past. Some of the floats were interesting to say the least, some were beyond bizarre

Then after about 3pm, it really got going and we found this absolutely insane rave going on in  a school playground:

I realise this looks like more of a squish than a rave, but it was.

And it was absolutely brilliant! We raved there for a while before we went for another wander, ended up joining in with another two different raves which had just pitched up on a couple of street corners before we headed back to the school-yard rave until it started to get dark and wind down.

So, how would I sum up the day? If you ever get the chance, GO! It was absolutely amazing, there's no structure or plan so don't try to have one, just turn up and roll with it. You'll meet some amazing people, dance to some amazing music, stuff your face with some amazing food and generally rave like you have never raved before with a different party on every corner.

Can't wait until next year!

Some secrets are best kept hidden.

I've been with my boyfriend for about six weeks now and he does not, nor will he ever find out about this blog.

I don't mean it  in a harsh way, and I will never say anything here about him that I wouldn't say to his face but sometimes, just sometimes, it's nice to have somewhere to vent something.

Like today. I posted a vague tweet earlier in which I said I wanted to go home. Why did I say that? Because yesterday and today I am bloody homesick for Devon and Plymouth. It's not because I'm unhappy here, it's just because I miss it because it's beautiful and calm and I really want to go and sit on a beach right now and then pop to my Grandma's to watch X-Factor.

But even so much as mentioning it in passing and I get a full-blown inquisition and it is then decided that I absolutely must be very depressed or that I am not happy in my relationship.

Actually, I just miss my family and being at home. Nothing personal, no imminent signs of depression and nothing unusual or odd about missing friends and family and being jealous because I can see all my Plymouth friends are going on a night out tonight and I can't go.

Yet I get grilled about it and forced to talk about it for hours, which I don't want to do. It's not a big deal, it really isn't.

So for those moments, I'm glad I have my blog and I will strive to keep this little thing going as long as possible to keep me sane during these exact moments.

If you read this and help me keep this going, then thank you.

In other news, I'm off to the Notting Hill Carnival tomorrow. Any words of advice as to what to check out, let me know, though I'm sure it will be a great day regardless. Can't wait!

My two furry new flatmates

I realise I have been a truly awful blogger this month and I would apologise but we've been having far too much fun enjoying London to sit indoors on my laptop... which makes a change (not only to the weather but also my attitude). But as of tomorrow I'm getting myself back into a routine of working so normal service will no doubt be resumed.

So anyway, I thought I'd share my two furry new flatmates with you all: a couple of days ago I went out and bought myself two new dwarf hamsters to keep me company when I'm here on my own! Here they are:

Rosie and Posie the hamsters! I can't tell them apart in any way though so they will just have to be referred to in a collective sense!

Although my plan for them to keep me company seems to be going to pot right now because they don't like me and don't get up if I put the lights on when it gets dark. But I'll have a nice cheap electricity bill so I guess it's swings and roundabouts.

They like eating spinach leaves, papaya chunks and sweetcorn. They like me when I feed them those things and they will already happily run onto my hand and sit there to eat. So fricking cute :)

They are already very spoilt, with a big cage and a wheel, two exercise balls, a run with a large maze and a see-saw, plus lots of wooden chews! They blatantly got better treatment this week than my boyfriend did...

London observations: Left or right?

Just a quick one... why is it that everywhere in this country it is polite to keep left when on staircases, yet on the London Underground you have to keep right on escalators?

This has always made me wonder. Any suggestions welcome.

That is all.

London riots.

I know I'm a few days late with the commentary on this, but I've had a friend to stay this week. The poor girl had no idea how to cope with what we dealt with on Monday, she'd never been to London before and it was very much like, "welcome to London, mind the burning car".

Not sure where this was taken, but two other Police cars were torched in Woolwich too.

Monday was obviously the worst night and it truly was terrifying. Another friend we were having dinner with lives on that road in Tottenham you saw on the news on Saturday, the one they looted to the point of there being nothing left. But actually, it was safer to stay there than it was to come back to Woolwich. Not that we could have gotten back if we had tried, it kicked off so badly in Woolwich that they cancelled all the trains and buses so the decision was made for us but clearly that part of Wood Green was the place to be - there was nothing left to loot so there was very little trouble. We did get evacuated out of Morrisons at 6pm when a very large group of people started to decend down the High Road (I don't think any of us have ever walked so fast), but other than that it was fairly peaceful.

Coming back here on Tuesday was a shock, Woolwich looked like it had been bombed. Stepping off the train and being met by the smell of burning is scary to say the least and it was at that point we felt we couldn't stay alone that night without the boyfriend there. And in fact, we were pretty much ready to all go back to Plymouth after we walked down Plumstead High Street to find two blokes trading the two biggest knives you have ever seen in broad daylight, clear as anything... that is how scary London has been this week. It's either been full of riots and burning buildings, or drug addicts and various other crimes happening in broad daylight because everyone knows the police are after one lot of people and one lot only. Only in London could they put 16,000 police officers on the streets and it make the city a scarier place.

The post-riot commentary on various news channels is now driving me insane. Did you know that as a child raised in a single-parent family, I therefore have no respect and enjoy a bit of recreational looting? Oh, and I also own a Blackberry which obviously means I use BBM to arrange riots. And to top all that off, I also use twitter! Who knew I was such a dastardly criminal. For goodness sake...

The one thing I think these riots have proved, however, is that as much as most people in London don't know the names of their neighbours, never say hello to anyone they don't know (even in shops, did you know it's weird to talk to shopkeepers here?) and generally have a reputation for being unfriendly, actually, Londoners are far from it. Despite what the media said, I spent most of Monday night watching twitter and 98% of the #londonriots tweets were messages of support, prayers to keep people safe and people passing on information to keep people safe - not to encourage rioting, but to keep people safe. Then, for every one rioter who was out on Monday night, there were probably 50 people out the next morning with brooms, bin bags and some good old-fashioned elbow grease ready to clear up the streets. Life continued the next day, we spent the day on the Southbank and although as 5pm drew near it was evident everyone was nervous and twitchy, otherwise people were defiant and lead a pretty normal day. Londoners are actually pretty brilliant and everyone went from being scared to being pretty flipping proud to be here.

A boarded up shop in Peckham with messages of support. Image from the BBC here.

Have a look through the pictures if you're interested:
Riots on Monday: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14453918;
Some pretty scary before-and-after shots: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14461868;
Other parts of the country: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14471098;
The clear-up - http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14478066.

Let's hope this never happens again. Heal well, London.

London observations: Religion.

Religion is a massive in London. Like, really, really huge. Churches are over-subscribed to the point that Sundays usually require several services, Mosques are huge and Fridays see outpourings of people which I have only ever previously seen at large events like football matches and to me, that is amazing. Religion, here, is mainstream. Not for the 'sad' or the 'losers' or just that place you go on Christmas Eve for midnight mass.

In Plymouth, those religious few really are just that - a few. They are the minority who are mocked by the rest (the non-religious population) and most churches and the synagogue are struggling to survive. Bearing in mind the fact that there is so little demand for a mosque that the only 'mosque' is essentially someone's converted garage, and you get an idea of how different it is here.

That's why I find it so amazing that everyone is so religious. I knew of the diversity before I moved, but the fact that churches are so over-subscribed here that some services attract upwards of 1000 people? It amazes me, it truly does.

Religion in general amazes me to the point of being almost jealous of those who are religious. To feel that strongly that there is an all-loving God who looks over them and their families and to have that to turn to when you need support or guidance must be a great comfort. I don't know what I believe, but I don't believe that. I don't believe that if there truly is an all-loving God (I am talking Christianity here, although it applies to all religions I guess), that he would just sit by and watch the awful things which happen in this world go on. I know he gave us all free-will, but if I were God and I sat upstairs watching a man rape a child and I were truly all-loving, I would take free-will back and kick some ass. Or I would at least have a cheeky flick of some clouds in the direction of Somalia. No-one would ever need to know, but suffering would end. Simple.

Which is why I can't believe in God. It's not that I don't want to, I spent most of my teenage years as a part of the local church community through Girls Brigade and Sunday schools, and whilst I strongly believe in the Christian values and ways of living (tolerance, patience, forgiveness, treating others as you would wish to be treated etc), I just cannot bring myself to believe the stories or the existence of God at all.

Or if there is a God, he's rubbish. If I were marking his work I'd be using a "Try harder next time" stamp. And therefore, I wouldn't worship him anyway.

So, religious people of London, enjoy your communities and enjoy your beliefs. You're lucky to have them here, and lucky to have it at all.

London Observations: Personal Space.

Now I've been living in London for a month, there are many things I have noticed which I thought I would share. I hope in doing so I can find out some of your stories and assure me that it isn't just me who attracts the weirdos and unusual experiences! So here's the first of many.

Personal Space.

In every culture, and particularly ours, there are very clear social expectations about personal space. There is a limit we all know and understand about how close we can get to someone without it seeming awkward and uncomfortable and this is even more pertinent when meeting strangers.

Yet, in London, and particularly on public transport, all of these social norms seem to fly out the window (or they would if there were any windows on the tube). Whilst we all understand that overcrowding means we are often forced to stand very close to, often touching, someone else, there is still a certain Britishness about the way we pack ourselves into the carriages side by side in order to maintain this sense of personal space. This usually involves being stood with one arm firmly on the lowest point of the rail to hold on and the other firmly rooted to our side.

I only make this observation today after spending nearly 20 minutes stood pretty much inside a fat man's armpit. And let's bear in mind here that it has been 27 degrees Celsius in London today and on the unventilated underground, said gentleman's armpit was of course, not a dry one. And it was at this point that I realised the sense of personal space, and everyone's understanding and respect of trying to maintain this at all costs on the underground, and how we take it for granted.

And isn't it just typical that I would be the one subjected to said torture. He could have held onto the vertical bar as opposed to the horizontal one on the roof; he could have held on directly above his own head rather than stretching out to be well above my head; the guy opposite could have helped me out of the situation in some way rather than giggling at me and winking... But this opens up another of my London observations which I will write up another time.

Moving is hard.

Suddenly it hit me that I'm actually all on my own. I live here now, actual London, with no-one else, with no friends locally and generally with nothing to do. 9 weeks until I start work, and until then and I get to meet people, I'm on my own. Shit.

Being lonely sucks. I expected to feel like this at some point in this year of living on my own, but I didn't expect it to really hit as soon as my Mum left yesterday. I thought I'd have too much stuff to do, which I do, but that's worse because it just reminds me I have nothing to look forward to anymore.

I'm scared and want a fucking cuddle.

And I need to find some money. I can't sell my car, I just can't. I can't be this cut off and isolated. I need to speak to my Dad...

Today has been an epic see-saw of a day...

10:30am - Time to collect results. Disappointed with my dissertation mark, but not surprised.
10:35am - Pick up module results for the final 2 modules. Only, one has gone missing.
11:20am - Still no sign of my assignment, despite four different people now scouring the university for it. all lecturers on strike today.
12:05pm - My friends all go out for lunch without inviting me. "Friends"
12:20pm - Realise the ramifications of them having lost my work if it doesn't get found. Lots of tears.
12:21pm - Send panicky email to module leader. She says she is on the case.
1:45pm - Results emailed through. Gutted, actually, gutted. I've been bordering on a first for my entire degree and slip up at the final hurdle. 2:1 it is then.
1:46pm - My school ring. They have had a teacher pull out for September and wonder if I would perhaps like to teach year 3 instead next year. Very happy, year 3s are my ideal year group and I could not be happier!
2:50pm - My headteacher rings to tell me about a dangerous, nasty family who live on my road. And oh yeah, their son is in my class.

What a fucking, awful day. Excuse my French.

Bollocks.

So, I've moved!

Although, surprisingly enough (I did think things were going far too well by my standards) my luck has run out and the flat was not much short of a disaster.

The letting agents went on and on to me about the conditions of my deposit, "we expect it to be returned in the immaculate condition you find it in today" blah blah blah and yet when I turned up, the place was disgusting. It stank of smoke, the whole place quite frankly needs repainting (which I'm annoyed about because, surely if the previous tenant lived there for five years, it would of COURSE need a lick of paint before anyone else moved in) and to say it was "immaculate" in terms of cleanliness was so far short of the mark you couldn't even see the mark. The kitchen was disgusting, the carpet needed more than a damn good hoover, and the bathroom quite frankly needed industrial-strength bleach across the whole thing. Clearly in the four weeks since I looked around nothing has been cleaned in the slightest and as a consequence it was rank.

So I put on my grumpy face and marched back to the agents (who manage the property) and, armed with a list, demanded that it will all be sorted by the time I come back with the rest of my stuff on Saturday. Which, whilst it seemed like an inconvenience at first, having to traipse all the way back down to Devon for this week, is now a blessing in disguise. I wouldn't have slept on that floor if you'd paid me, and I told the gentleman who deals with my property as such. He was very apologetic and confirmed that he would have cleaners, painters and decorators sent out for the next day and that I could ring on Thursday to confirm but it would all have been dealt with by then.

So on Saturday, I will finally move all of my things and have my furniture delivered into a "pristine" flat which will not even need a hoovering, or so I am told, and I can finally play house. Cannot wait!

Although, now I'm stuck on hold to various companies to sort out the boring details about bills. It has at least given me time to write this though, I've been on hold to EDF for nearly 40 minutes.

Summer bucket list

So I'm taking part in Mama's losing it and her weekly writing prompts again! This one was a nice challenge (50 is a lot) which has taken me nearly three days to write but it gives me focus for the 8 weeks I have free this summer.

50 things you want to do this summer

1. Have a bloody amazing 'last night' with the girls; 
2. Decorate my classroom ready for September; 
3. Sort out my flat to make it into a home; 
4. Learn my way around where I live and find how to get to everywhere I need to; 
5. Buy a bike! 
6. Meet up with S one evening; 
7. Maybe meet up with L? 
8. Catch up with NJ whilst she still lives in London; 
9. Go to the cute tea shop Stefany at Influence recommended; 
10. Go to Greenwich market; 
11. Go to Brick Lane market; 
12. Go to Camden market; 
13. Go to the pizza place in Covent Garden that has unusual toppings; 
14. Visit the Tate gallery; 
15. Go on a day-trip to the seaside; 
16. Visit Fortnum and Mason to their bizarre food hall; 
17. Have a night out in London! 
18. Read at least two classic novels; 
19. Read at least five other books; 
20. Start making my Christmas presents; 
21. Shop for a graduation outfit at Bluewater shopping centre; 
22. Meet/see a celebrity! For no reason other than I'd like the anecdote; 
23. Use a nightbus in London; 
24. Make a pizza from scratch; 
25. Sing at a kareoke night (to tick it off my general bucket list); 
26. Take up kick boxing again; 
27. Have my hair re-styled; 
28. Get a tan! Natural or fake, not fussy; 
29. Have a champagne cocktail; 
30. See a stand-up comedy show; 
31. Learn how to make different flavoured bread; 
32. See a west-end show; 
33. Try my Mum's family recipe for sticky toffee pudding; 
34. Take up running and try to maintain my fitness level; 
35. Make home-made lemonade; 
36. Meet at least one of my new neighbours (just because the rural girl in me doesn't want to totally fade); 
37. Go for a walk along the Thames from my house; 
38. Go on a bike ride along the Thames from my house; 
39. Bake and decorate a cake; 
40. Buy myself some nice new smart clothes for my first day as a teacher; 
41. Go to visit my Nan for the day; 
42. Go to visit my Dad for the day; 
43. Go on a week-long detox (next week); 
44. Actually unpack everything! I don't want any boxes lying around by September; 
45. Have a picnic on the southbank; 
46. Do not get involved with any men. At all; 
47. Try sushi; 
48. Have my first skype date in two years; 
49. Make some new friends! 
50. Get into a routine of keeping in touch with my current friends and family. I don't want to be forgotten... ♥

Never mind the rain...

Despite the fact that the rain has been torrential here for the best part of three hours, there is still an air of summer around today. We may be sat in a dark living room in warm jumpers, but yet there is an air of optimism and summer excitement in our family.

Mainly because Wimbledon is on. This is the annual fortnight of tennis which brings with it short-lived enthusiasm for tennis in the UK, a boost to the sales of strawberries and a good excuse to spend whole days sat indoors watching the television. And watching it, despite the rain, reminds us that it is finally summer.

Summer is always a pick-me-up for me. I hate the winter, I hate dark evenings and as for the 'cute' evenings when you cuddle up on the sofa with a bottle of wine and a good film, they are nice the first time and maybe, at a push, the second time. But any more after this and it is just plain boring and miserable. Summer is all about getting outdoors, socialising, watching the natural world bloom and look glorious before our eyes.

And traditionally it is a time of change. Leaving school, graduating from university, moving to new jobs and the such like all happen in the summer for new challenges to await us in the autumn. This is, of course, no different for me this year and I don't think I need to explain how excited I am about this because it has been the subject of far too many posts of mine lately.

Furthermore, today, I did most of my packing. At the weekend I did the shopping which means I have all the utensils and appliances I will need. And as such, today, the count down really is on - in seven days time, a week today, I will be in my flat. My flat, with no-one else to answer to, with my own things and with my own life in front of me so that every decision from next Monday onwards will be about me. And it's lovely to be able to have such a selfish outlook on life for a change because I have spent far too long riding in someone else's wake, letting them lead me down their pathways and finally I am free of that. I can truly find out who I am, what I want and who I am going to become. I can lay my own path.

This is what summer signifies for me, more so now than ever, and it is wonderful to fully embrace this. And, as you all know, I can't wait.

However, my tennis racket is already packed. My enthusiasm for tennis will have to extend to reaching for the remote, not the racket. And drooling over Nadal, of course...

Driving through time.

I hate driving through Plymouth. Each and every place in this stupid city reminds me of something I've lost, something I should have done or a mistake I've made. I drive past my flat and drive on or past the roads I used to curse daily to get to it and I'm reminded of the mistakes I made. I drive along a road near the city centre and I'm reminded of my horrible school experience. I drive past certain shops and am reminded of arguments, I drive along certain roads and I'm reminded of crying during my driving lessons when my instructor shouted at me, I drive along a certain road and am reminded of one of the best things I ever did but can no longer do.

I know this sounds strange and a bit depressing, but driving through Plymouth late last night and seeing my whole life play out as I drove along the A38 didn't make me feel sad. It made me reflect on my life, on all those mistakes and bad times and how actually they have led me to where I am today. If I didn't hate this town, then the alternative would be to become one of them; to have no hope, no drive, no ambition and to be happy with exactly what I have, regardless of what my dreams once were or could have been. Mistakes help you learn what you really do want, they help you to recognise your flaws so you don't make the same mistakes again and they help you to move forward to better things. And that is exactly what I intend to do this month when I move.

And so, finally, that desire I had last night will be fulfilled - just keep driving, drive as far away as possible and don't look back. Leave the mistakes behind, take the lessons from them and move on to the better things you couldn't have otherwise had. Because, really, were they even mistakes/bad things? If they have all led me to this point, where I'm happy and have a promising future full with opportunities I can't even imagine, would I wish to have never been through it all? No way.

Everything happens for a reason. I truly believe that.

I have somewhere to live!

I finally have a flat in London! My moving date is the 27th of June and that will be the day I have been waiting for - every single decision I've made in the last 4 years has been building up to this and now I'm 20 days away from having everything I've ever wanted, and this flat really is the icing on the cake. Don't get me wrong, it's not massive, but the kitchen is lovely, the bathroom is nice, the bedroom is spacious and the living space is nice if not slightly compact. I couldn't take any photos of the inside because the current tenant had boxes packed up to the ceiling, but, check out the view:

Plus, being right on the river bank, it is so quiet you wouldn't know you were only 20 minutes from central London... other than being under the flightpath for London City Airport, but everywhere in the area is (obviously) so I can't hold that against it. And anyway, even when I sat and ate my lunch on the benches opposite I only counted 4 planes in 45 minutes, which you wouldn't even notice after a while. On top of all this, it's a ten minute walk to my school, probably only 15 minutes walk to the train station or a 5 minute bus ride, and even better, there is a sports club down the road which runs the kick boxing school I used to be a member of before it closed locally, which means I can start going again! I'm so excited I just want to scream and dance around!

I have literally never been this excited in all my life, I just want to run out and buy all my furniture, accessories and kitchen stuff now! I know it will be a pain to move it all but I can't see myself holding out this long. Plus, there isn't a Tesco/Ikea very nearby so it might be worthwhile doing, especially seeing as I now have the opportunity to do three trips in the car when moving rather than just two.

Ok, I'm going to get up and sort my life out so I can justify getting excited!

Plus, I have another date on Wednesday, if you can call it that. This all followed a very messy night out with the girls to celebrate graduating, but I think that story is best left forgotten and this whole thing kept pretty quiet. Which would usually not be worth the hassle, but I'm now moving in less than 3 weeks and, if I thought London was a long way, he's moving to Cairo to teach in August, so this is as short-term as is humanly possible and, to be honest, is basically about sex and right now that suits me fine.

So heres to an exciting last three weeks in Plymouth before I finally escape this hell-hole and get everything I've ever wanted. Finally :)

Virus-creating computer geeks, I am smarter than you.

I managed to trick my computer so I could run a systems restore and save it and, to be honest, I feel like I have my arm back. It's a sad thing to admit, but I couldn't live without a computer now and the thought of having to do so, even for a few days, was physically mortifying. So now it's packed with anti-virus, anti-malware and anti-spyware software and hopefully nice and safe, I can go back to my primarily internet-based existence.

But seriously, what would we do without a computer these days? How would I do my 2500 word essay due on Friday? How would I keep in contact with my friends without bombarding them with texts and phone calls? How would I be managing to house-hunt in London whilst living 200 miles away in Devon? And whilst you could argue I could still do those things without the internet/a computer using a pen, paper, a phone and a car, it would all take a lot longer, would be a lot harder and generally I would only be able to do one thing at once as opposed to all the above within the space of an hour. And that's just what I've done/used the internet for today: what about tomorrow, the next day... it really is scary how we've come to rely on these things. Because, actually, we are so dependent on them now that we do need them to maintain our current lifestyles, and I'll say it again, it's sad but true. But they say technology moves us forward, and so I suppose we do have more components to our lives as a result, and I couldn't imagine living the lifestyle our parents did aged twenty-something.

Anyway, in other news, I got an Olympic ticket for the Athletics next year! I'm very excited, the chance to go to the Olympic Stadium will be a once in a lifetime opportunity and it will be amazing to be in London and share in the excitement. Mind you, either side of the event I have a ticket for, you won't catch me within 200 miles of London - the whole city will be in a state of absolute bedlam, but still, for the one day I will be there amongst the crowds and packed onto the DLR from Woolwich, it will be an amazing, exciting and uplifting event I'm sure. Bring on next summer!

The Olympic Stadium - aerial view.