We took down the Christmas tree yesterday, and with its departure came a feeling of disillusionment as I shook off the last remnants of glittery tinsel and magic I had been submerged in for the last couple of weeks.
Life is back to normal. It's got to that stage when the cold weather (and what little snow we get down here on the coast) isn't welcome any more and I just want it to be summer again. I've finally finished my essay for my Education & Society module which is a huge weight off my shoulders but with the disenchantment that came after we lovingly boxed up the Christmas tree and put it in the loft, where it will wait patiently until next year, I realised that I will be returning to Cardiff soon. And that means there are exams to prepare for; something which I plan on doing from now until I go back up there.
In other news, I'm still reading La Sombra del Viento. I'm almost two fifths of the way through now. It's a slow but satisfying achievement and I'm trying to work on my foreign reading technique to make me read faster yet still understand the plot.
I went to the hospital today with the mother. She had to go to physiotherapy for her arm.
So thankfully it was only a brief visit to the 'nice' part of the hospital rather than the death-and-suffering-filled part (which I have visited a little too much for my liking).
But still, I got the same sense of depression oozing from those bland, white, clinical walls; like the expressionless face with which a doctor gives out a diagnosis.
I could not be a doctor.
I felt the same sadness that I did as a boy seeing smokers outside the hospital, just as the lead singer of Editors does (see below).
Then I visited the city centre, saw a few friends and had a little shop with the mother. Everyone keeps asking how I could even bring myself to miss Plymouth after living in Cardiff.
I can't really explain it, because I know Cardiff is so much bigger and has so much more to offer, but I will never feel the same about it as I do about Plymouth. I see part of me in Plymouth. I just feel right there, content that it's not the best place in the world but it's where I was born and I've seen it grow as I've grown.
In other news, the nation has gone mad since the X-Factor finals. It seems these two chumps, Olly and Joe, have divided the fair maidens of our nation in two. I have heard pretty malicious comments from both sides of this argument, with some stooping to outright insults of each finalist. The best part is how much I've heard the term 'he just HAS the X-Factor' being bandied around.
Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you guys were all music geniuses? Oh no wait, you bought the Cheryl Cole album didn't you? Yeah, I thought so.
I loathe the term 'X-Factor'. It is just a gibberish marketing word which has no application to music whatsoever and is exploited to market the nation's next karaoke act. The average viewer of this show wouldn't know a time signature if it fucked them up the ass, yet they deem themselves fit to pass judgement on who has 'X-Factor'?
I'm not one to rise to silly trends and do what facebook groups tell me, but I didn't have 'Killing in the name of' by Rage Against The Machine so I have bought it.
I strongly urge you guys to do so too.
Even if we could get it in the top 10, it would be nice.
If it was number 1, I would love it (although it's never going to happen).
Simon Cowell has ruined Christmas.
He has stolen Christmas number one too many damn times, a slot which used to be taken by classic Christmas songs!
If he thinks I'm Scrooge, then he's the Grinch.
I worked my last day at Maplin's City Road branch yesterday and now, with the job behind me, I have just turned the last corner and am on the finishing straight of this semester. One remaining piece of assessed work due in this Thursday acts as my final hurdle before the glorious finish line where my friends and family at home await me with open arms.
My impending return home got me feeling all nostalgic and I found myself thinking about all the things I miss about home which I cannot wait to do again. It's surprising how many simple little things you miss when away from home. For me, these include having a back garden to look out onto in a quiet leafy suburb rather than feeling like some kind of worker bee, living in a tiny pod in a giant complex comprised of hundreds of other identical pods, uniform and square, in rows. I miss buildings with personality; something I haven't experienced in this bland empty shell. I miss the relationship you can have with these kinds of buildings, ripened by years of shared experiences, good and bad, with family and friends; where a house becomes a home. And besides, what better time to return home than Christmas when social and family gatherings are in abundance?
Here's a relevant song:
In other news, I'm supposed to be looking at houses this week to decide where I'm living next year and who I'll be living with. These are exciting times my friends.
I very nearly missed my Spanish translation class today. Like a fool I thought it was at 2 PM when it was in fact at 1. However thankfully I realized the error of my ways when I checked my timetable after coming out of the library and got into the class 20 minutes late.
Thankfully I had been engrossed in the Spanish literature section of the library earlier on today and so had decided to take out a Spanish novel called 'La Sombra del Viento' (The Shadow of the Wind) by Carlos Ruiz Zafón.
Now, my translation teacher is quite a genius, as all the Spanish teachers/professors are, about Spanish literature and so at the end of class I showed him the book and asked if he recommends it at which point he said he was impressed and glad that somebody is using their initiative to further their language skills in their own time and integrate their languages with their hobbies. Get on Sam. All lateness has been forgotten. He then told me it's a very entertaining read and wants to know how I get on.
So now my challenge I've set myself is to read and finish this novel.
Also, is it too early to be thinking about Christmas yet? I'm getting mighty excited!
