and may the odds be ever in your favour.

So I read The Hunger Games. If you have not, this post will probably not interest you in the slightest and you are free to go and play some scrabble or whatever it is that you normally do on a Wednesday night. I personally think Wednesdays are perfect for sitting around the house doing nothing which is exactly what I have opted to do all day. And all of yesterday. I regret nothing.

I started the books approximately three weeks ago and devoured them in one hungry gulp. One of the things I miss most about my childhood self is the way I used to stay up til the early hours reading. It was never anything fancy, most of the books I opted for were about animal rescue and had an alliterating title, but I must have got through hundreds of books, and there were never quite enough on my shelf. Nowadays, I have quite the opposite problem: shelves full of untouched books that I never find the time to read, and this is a source of constant sadness to me. As you get older, too, there is far more pressure to read things that are not shite. The problem with this is, I have to read lots of things for my degree that are distinctly un-shite and it can all get a bit heavy. I have waxed lyrical many times about the role of Harry Potter both in modern society and in my own life, and I am not ashamed to admit that the books I have enjoyed reading most in my life have been those written for children - His Dark Materials, Harry Potter and yes, The Hunger Games. 

These should not be mistaken with 'favourite' books, though there is some overlap but the thing is that they are just so utterly readable. They are enough to distract you from the irritating child on the train or the man staring at you from across a cafe. Nothing else matters when these books do, and this is exactly what I have missed - this childlike enthusiasm and need to know what happens next.

The Hunger Games, in my opinion, lack very little. The books are fast paced and very plot driven. There is gore, brutality, a love triangle, a gutsy heroine, bits that make you snigger in public and bits that make you shed an embarrassing little tear on the bus. The trilogy is just fairly brilliant and I urge you to read it immediately. If you are able to write off a couple of weeks, that is. 

The film is also rather good. But the books are better. The film does have a few advantages over the book. Okay, the film has one advantage over the book, and his name is Gale. I really don't get the Peeta-lovers of this world. Gale is sullen and brooding and passionate and everything a fictional crush should be. Peeta is just so nice - too nice! Plus Liam Hemsworth is Australian. Just saying. Anyway, I'll let you make up your own mind...

Cor. 

our good fortune allowed us to feel a sadness our parents didn't have time for.

In general, I'm not really a film person. As I get older, my attention span seems to be getting shorter and my ability to will myself to do... well anything is lessening day by day. And I know that watching a film isn't exactly hard work, you just sit there and it unfolds before you, but anything over ninety minutes and I get bored. And then I start doing something else. And the film never gets finished, and it hangs over me like a credit card bill. I find film-watching an overall depressing pastime. I watched Beginners the other day, and all it did was make me sad. I watched The Rebound today, and all it did was make me sad, but in a very different way.

But yes, I really do need a pastime. I've started running again in a bid to spend all summer on the beach, but that is more a grueling necessity than something I find enjoyable. Perhaps I should devote myself entirely to learning the Italian language - I do really love learning grammar - but it's just so hard, and I find it difficult when the man from whom I buy coffee sniggers at my pronunciation, let alone when people I actually like are listening to me butcher their language.

I've started reading a lot more, and strive to do this outdoors now that it's getting warmer and I'm beginning to discover all the open spaces Rome has to offer that seemed to hibernate over the winter. Currently, I'm trawling through the Stieg Larsson books. I say trawling, I am absolutely loving them, and I just can't stop turning the pages (pressing the "next page" button on my Kindle). I am yet to see either version of the film, but I'd like to finish the trilogy first so I can make up my own mind about how everyone looks and sounds. It's a nerd thing.

I suppose cooking could be my pastime, but I don't really have any money, so buying fancy ingredients is a bit of a struggle, and I invariably end up making pasta. It's one of the side effects of living in Italy.

Drinking, shopping and museum-going also all fall into the not enough money category. Basically I need ideas for things to do that are free and require little or no effort. Let me know!

I've included this video, not because I like the song but because I think she has a funny singing manner and feel you should appreciate this. She has a similar demeanour to a nodding dog.

don't fear the reaper.

This is a murder-themed blog post. I thought I'd tell you upfront in case you think I'm an oddball and want to leave it at that. I didn't want you to get half way through and realise that there was a recurring theme running through it, and that the theme in question was just a little bit strange. It also contains 'Sherlock' spoilers. Don't say I didn't warn you.

They have Midsomer Murders here in Italy. It's called 'L'ispettore Barnaby' and is dubbed rather than subtitled. This may seem irrelevant, but it actually makes a lot of difference to some programmes. For example, Grey's Anatomy dubbed into Italian is just as enjoyable, whereas MTV's 'Disaster Date' when dubbed has all the fun sucked out of it. Inspector Barnaby's adventures seem to gain something in the Italian language, and everything seems a little bit more dramatic. I would imagine those living in big Italian cities however, find it somewhat difficult to relate to the lives of those living in quaint British countryside.

Sherlock was incredible. The last series was definitely good television, but this was just exceptional. I started watching it at home with Tom, Cait and Cindy, and finished it sitting alone in my bedroom in Rome, but both times, I was equally hooked. Anybody who doesn't find both Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch supremely attractive is maybe a little bit deranged (or likes men who are slightly less angular of face). And now the internet is buzzing with theories of how the great man faked his own death. I have to say, I was a little bit angry that he wasn't dead. I feel the BBC cheated some tears out of me (who wouldn't well up a little at the sight of a very forlorn John Watson unashamedly grieving the death of his best friend) and felt silly for getting so worked up! My anger is not enough to prevent me from really really looking forward to the next series though. I'm sure I will be just as enthralled.

This interesting collection of pictures appeared on the Guardian website the other day. I scrolled through with morbid fascination. I hope you will do the same.

The thing is, I love detective programmes, Agatha Christie novels and that Roald Dahl story where the old lady ran a B&B and stuffed all the guests. I guess what I'm asking is your opinion on whether this is really weird, or if I might indeed turn out normal rather than some vengeful, leg of lamb-wielding housewife. Comment is welcome.

I'll leave you with a pointless gif of Benedict Cumberbatch taking his scarf off. You are welcome!

back on track.

I spent last term in a haze of missing home too much, not drinking enough, not working enough, not speaking enough Italian, not blogging enough (or at all), not reading enough. There is a big ol' list of 'not enoughs', but this term, everything is going to change. Today, I am going for a run, applying for jobs and drinking lots of coffee. This wave of productivity/caffeine has got me feeling really good. I have six months left in Rome. Better make them count!

So it's been a while! Last time I wrote on here, we were in the midst of riots and a warmer climate. Since then, not all that much has changed. Except for the riots and the climate. My mother got "engaged", and while my prospective stepfather leaves a lot to be desired, in theory, I am happy for them and I wish them well (seriously though, who gets engaged at the ripe old age of fifty six!?). Along with half of the population, I bit the bullet and got a Kindle. I was on the fence, but I'm really glad I did because I am reading so much more already. I went to Tom's for Christmas, which was absolutely lovely, though it did mean that due to the legendary Moore hospitality, I ate far too much. This would have been fine, except a couple of days later, my lovely friends Eilish and Bob got married, and I had to not look enormous in my purple bridesmaid's dress! I'm not sure I managed. Eilish on the other hand looked absolutely stunning, and I've never seen two people with bigger grins on their faces.

That's about it really! I came back to Rome about a week ago, and I'm rather enjoying myself. It's sunny and cold, and oh-so Italian. Everyone wears these massive puffer jackets; belted, quilted monstrosities which turn even the most glamorous of women into the Michelin Man, all tutting as they see us silly Brits strutting round in light jackets. The older women waddle around under the weight of their huge fur coats, and the men blow-dry their hair, all for fear of getting a cold.

They might just have the last laugh though, as I'm feeling a little bit sniffly...

So there you have it, a cheeky little update for those of you still interested. A few people asked me to resume writing on here, but I told them I thought maybe the time had passed. I guess I was wrong!



This was in Sherlock last night. Can they do no wrong? Also, Benedict Cumberbatch - phwoar.

in a town that's cold and grey...

When I am a bit gloomy and the world seems to be failing me a little, I like to revert back to the things that are important to me: family, friends and books, for example. Today was a good day because it combined all three of these things, and as a result, I am in a very good mood. I awoke on Sarah's floor, having stayed the night after a lovely night out in a somewhat icy Birmingham. I then went downstairs and had a good old chat with her mum over tea and toast, before heading to Hay-on-Wye to meet my auntie and uncle for lunch. Hay is one of those places that is so beautifully unreal that you could never really live there. It seems to exist solely for the occasional visit in order to fill yourself with tea and your bookcase with Penguin Classics. I also got to hear people speaking Welsh, which always reminds me of my youth. I was glad to find that it still sounds a bit made-up.

My new favourite band is a little group named Clarensau. They are fairly adorable and make pretty music. Their album 'Until Our Lungs Give' is lovely (and all on Spotify).

It's time to do some work, but the thought fills me with... not dread, exactly but certainly not joy. Sometimes I wonder whether I made the right choice taking the academic path, but then I think about going home to university in just over a week, and that thought makes me happy. I certainly couldn't live here for any extended period of time, and if my spell at Morrisons has taught me anything, it's that I really hate Morrisons. I would imagine that this sentiment would apply to most retail/catering/mundane jobs, so that choice doesn't really appeal. At the end of the day, I am just a disgustingly lazy human being. If I was a cow, I would be shot.

you have to suffer to be well-read...

Because my books seem to breed when I leave the room, I have had to purchase a new bookcase. This has been my day today:

• Went into town with Helen and Mother to look at bookcases.
  
• Found a bookcase and a big thing in which to put my absurd amount of CDs
  
• Got the bus home because I could no longer fit in the car
• Arrived home after a fairly non-eventful bus trip
• With the help of Helen, removed both pieces of furniture from the courtesy car (necessary due to the fact that a drunk driver crashed through our wall, hitting trees, cars and houses. I told you about that, right?)
• Spent half an hour getting the bloody piece of crap upstairs, made more difficult by the fact that Helen and I have the combined upper body strength of a six year old girl, and the fact that we had to be clever due to the narrow staircase and the longest and heaviest bookcase ever made. I pulled a muscle in my tummy and laughed so much I thought my face might fall off.
  
• Moved around furniture in my bedroom to accommodate the new members of my family of furniture crap
• Spent three hours alphabetising the books by author
• Realised that in the process of all this alphabetising, my room seemed to vomit dusty crap all over the carpet
• Wrote a blog about it.
  

we'll meet in russian literature...

I was just feeding my dog and somehow managed to flick tripe down my top. This is quite an achievement considering the top in question was not low-cut in the slightest. My reaction was a little on the melodramatic side. My carnivorous former self would be ashamed.

I might start reading War and Peace, but it seems a little bit epic, and it's summer. Epic books are best left for the winter months when the outdoors no longer exist and we (I) retreat into our cosy winter shells.

My mum's in hospital for a bit (nothing too serious) so I have to get over myself and my all-consuming fear of hospitals and visit tomorrow. I'm not sure why I hate them so much, but I will not make the same mistake I have in the past of just not going at all. This seems a bit apathetic. From now on I will be perfect, superdaughter, armed with chocolate buttons and grapes. I hear ill people like grapes... It probably wouldn't be so bad if Helen wasn't in Madeira, because she has a superhuman tolerance for vomit and drips and all things clinical. She would probably calm me down a bit. I might buy myself a new iPod as a reward. Mine has never been the same since I washed it. Its fate was less severe than the phone I flushed down the toilet and the camera I killed in my bike spokes, however.

I realise that in the last week, I have written about absolutely nothing of any merit or interest, and for this I can only apologise. Perhaps tomorrow I will bring you a heavy, slightly obnoxious piece of prose on North Korea, or the plight of women (as you know I love doing), but today I'm not in the mood. Instead, I thought I'd just mention a few things I'm enjoying that are hovering about on the interweb at the moment.

• I really like the blog 'Dorothy Surrenders', which is very funny and intelligently written. Yes, it's written by a lesbian for lesbians and about lesbians, but I rather like it. I particularly like the thought of themed blogs according to the day on which they were written, such as 'Tank Top Tuesday' and 'Gender fuck Thursday'. Excellent.
• After having mentioned 'Alex Reads Twilight' last time, I have discovered his friend and flatmate Charlie's video blog. Turns out I'm fairly out of touch with this one, as he's been rambling on and strumming his ukulele for quite some time. Regardless, I quite like him.
• jezebel.com is the sort of writing I aspire to. It has a great mix of trashy celebrity gossip and more serious subjects such as cats eating peanut butter...
• While the Sartorialist will always have a place in my heart, Hollie Templar (whose blog I visit sometimes just for its sheer beauty) linked me to this site earlier today and I fell in love. This is the cherry on top of my cake of Scandinavian obsession...
• The 'Life and Style' section of the Guardian never fails to throw up something of interest. And even if the subject matter is trashy, the writer always manages to put a homely, middle-class glaze on everything.
• Yes, I've linked to it before, but frankly, it deserves two mentions. Sarah and I saw a boy in deck shoes reading Moby Dick in our hostel in Berlin. She commented on it, and I made a reference to this wonderful, wonderful blog, but was shocked when she knew nothing about it. Sarah, you are welcome. Just while I'm on the topic (feel free to skip this part if you are short of time/have a life) I feel the need to mention a second hand bookshop we found in deepest, darkest Berlin. It was run by two English guys, one of whom looked like Jarvis Cocker and was tuning bongos. We went in and found ourselves in heaven. There were gorgeous old Penguin books for €2, a massive poetry section, and all sorts of bizarre German comic books. They made us a cup of tea, and we must have spent at least an hour there. It was just brilliant...
• Finally, LaBlogotheque, Black Cab Sessions and watchlistentell are all great ways to discover interesting new bands...
  

the glory of summer...

Well hello there. I have returned from my excellent trip (see facebook if you're interested, but i won't bore you here). I am once more in the little village of Wolverley which I can't help but feel is bad for the soul. My mother has a better social life than I do, and I can't currently see any means of escape after what is bound to be a disappointing set of results on Thursday. The more I think about it, the more I want to cry, but crying is hardly productive so I won't waste the time.

While away, I read two really good books: 'I Capture the Castle' by Dodie Smith, and 'Everything is Illuminated' by Jonathan Safran Foer. The first is a light, funny book about two girls who want nothing more than to be classic Austen-esque heroines, while the second is much sadder and more poignant. It pretty much blew me away, especially when I realised how young the author was when he wrote it. This makes me feel particularly inadequate, mostly due to the fact that as I have mentioned, I am spending my time in Wolverley doing washing and making various kinds of bean soup. The novelty of being home wore off in about ten minutes. I want to be back in Munich.

The sky is about to burst, which should pass some time. I might watch 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' again. I think it's that sort of day.

Right, enough moping, I still have Edinburgh and Greenbelt (aka God camp) festivals to look forward to which should both be ace. Best of all, I haven't had to pay for either of them. Lucky swine.

detergent days...

The rain just started slamming down in noisy splats which makes the fact that I have been doing load upon load of washing today seem a little less pathetic. Today is the dreaded day of my mother's return, and as a result, everyone's a little bit stressed out. My sister and her bloke have resolved this stress by taking the dog for a walk (to the pub), while I am sitting with my laptop procrastinating. Youtube appears to be struggling somewhat today so I'm left with the Guardian website and (fully aware that I am becoming a broken record) the brilliant Grey's Anatomy. This blog is also a definite form of procrastination, but somehow it's not as bad as watching Countdown. Which I am certainly not doing.

It's working again now...

I leave for my grand European adventure a week today and I'm feeling distinctly unprepared. I have bought suncream and facewipes. Perhaps some more effort is required. This website will get me through. And books. Books will help...

If I should become a stranger, you know that it would make me more than sad.

You might think that having nothing to do all day long would result in more regular updates, but I seem incapable of writing in the day. I am a night owl and I think my productivity levels peak around midnight. I'm still technically a teenager so I blame this for my erratic sleep patterns and lack of general routine.

I rant a lot. I am a definite ranter. Some people like this, particularly those who see it as an opportunity to get into a heated debate with me about politics or religion or the never-ending appeal of the grandad cardigan (which some people still refuse to embrace). Others, however must find this particular stubborn trait a pain in the metaphorical bottom, particularly when I take it upon myself to emphasise and fight against the plight of my favourite minority; women. Now just because I am not a bra-burning lesbian, doesn't mean I have to miss out on all the feminist fun. Lately, however, my arguments have been becoming a bit predictable and I feel a bit unconvincing. Luckily, I have the ability to arm myself with plenty of feminist literature so I can rob the ideas of someone else. The first on the chopping block is 'The Feminine Mystique' which I'm enjoying immensely. It's surprisingly readable which I don't usually find with anything non-fiction, and I feel myself becoming more and more bitter with every word which I'm pretty sure is the desired effect...

This song is ridiculously lovely. If you remain unconvinced, at least watch it for his odd-yet-strangely-attractive elfin features.

exams and tennis and hot men reading books...

It is as I feared. I chopped off half my hair and after completely failing the French exam today I feel Samson's pain. My unruly mop of hair was the source of all my linguistic powers. Without it I am weak. But it does look a lot better. Maybe a good haircut makes a life of academic mediocrity seem less tragic...

This is my new favourite blog, though I can't take the credit for its discovery (thank you Anna Muggeridge). It is simple yet effective and I can't help but wish that I had come up with the idea. Needless to say I will be checking in regularly and might even bring you my personal highlights. If you're lucky... I'm not sure there is anything better than men with beards reading books in an intellectual, sometimes pretentious manner. Correct me if I'm wrong. (Was posting three pictures a little too much?)

This is my new favourite song which you might recognise from the brilliant film Little Miss Sunshine. Unfortunately, I heard it on an X-Box advert today which made me like it a little bit less, but it's still pretty good.

Tonight is prom night and despite my lack of hair and lack of alcohol consumption, I think there's a chance that it could be awesome. It's nice that it's so much more relaxed than the much more formal affair two years ago - not a floor-length dress or orange face in sight. It's very refreshing.

Having finished all my exams now and finally ridding myself of the 'I should be revising' feeling, Wimbledon has become my preferred way to spend the day. I love everything about it from the sun burnt crowds to Federer's cardigans. I dropped into conversation with my mum the fact that I thought Jelena Jankovic was really cool and her reaction was "She's ugly!" in such an appalled tone one might think I had just declared myself a Tory. "Yes Mum, but that's not what I said, is it? I said she was cool." "Well that's all very well but men don't like 'cool' do they?" I feel this needs no further comment.

do not for the fame, but for the glory. learn the difference.

My mother is currently in the corner of the room with a carpet fitter, looking at samples which all look exactly the same and deliberating loudly, while denying me the joys of my iTunes. We're finally getting our (avocado eighties nightmare) bathroom ripped out and starting again. Trust me when I say that anything would be an improvement.

I finally bought Fyfe (Fyfe, love of my life)'s album and in no way is it disappointing. Every song is magnificent. When you are a shambolic aspiring writer as I half-heartedly pretend to be, occasionally you read a book and think 'wow. I wish I had written this.) I imagine lots of music-types feel similarly about this album.

I'm currently reading 'One Day' by David Nicholls and storming through it (this is one of the aforementioned novels). It's sort of a nice compromise between a critically acclaimed but difficult to trawl through novel and a trashy beach read. I'm only half way through, but already it's established a firm footing amongst my favourites. I'm sure most people think this, but I feel that I am strangely similar to the protagonist, Emma. She's pretty clever but a bit of a skank who waitresses instead of getting a job while her less intelligent but copiously charismatic best friend shoots to fame. She has idealistic newspaper cuttings lining her walls and becomes too cynical and too critical. This is pretty much the life I have mapped out for myself. So anyway, I would definitely recommend it, even if you are not really the reading type.

I used to read all the time, but have somewhat lapsed lately. I really love books, but I have picked up the bad habit of spending loads of money on books, beginning them, then giving up half way through, or even worse, just letting them sit on my shelf (floor) gathering dust. So from now on, I vow to read more. I imagine that books will help Sarah and me immeasurably on our trek across Europe in the summer, and I reckon that as I'm doing a French degree (bleugh, don't get me started), a bit of literature in my native language will become a treat once more.

Inspiring isn't really the word, but I found myself clinging on to this awesome woman's every word. It really doesn't seem twenty minutes long, I promise. I think you'll enjoy it. Lesbianism aside, I pretty much want to be this woman. I fear that I can only be disappointed...

Shorty's like a melody in my head that I can't keep from, got me singing like 'na na na na' every day, like my ipod's stuck on replay...

I am a rubbish teenager. There are many reasons for this. For example, I think a cup of tea is the best thing in the world. I barely drink. I have read at least three Maeve Binchy novels. I don't think we need a fourth reason... My excuse now is that I have turned eighteen, and so I am technically an adult, therefore I can wear slippers all day, read the Guardian and complain about those younger than myself if I so wish (which I invariably do). I like to think, however that my ownership of GHDs, my addiction to the internet and my ability to sleep for fifteen hours running all show that in fact I am still young (though my hands are creepily wrinkly).

If I wasn't so hellbent on being a writer, I'd probably become a translator. Translating is the one form of homework I can stand. I enjoy putting my own spin on the text, and not sticking rigidly to the meaning, embellishing slightly. If you don't like languages, you probably don't understand, but I think it's ace!

Tomorrow is Mothering Sunday. I haven't as such bought anything for my Mum. I used to go to loads of effort for such occasions, but we're not exactly close anymore. I think we're going to Birmingham to see Helen, which will be nice. The three of us shopping does tend to end in tears, however. We are all so similar, and equally stubborn. It could go either way...

So I'm pretty sure I love fictional men...

I joined this group on Facebook a while back. No truer words have ever been spoken. So here is my definitive list:

1) Remus Lupin - scruffy, intelligent, messed up, modest, but with a definite sting in the tail. Is he the perfect man? I think he might be...

2) Mr Darcy - I know it's a massive cliché. I know that I am earning no points for imagination here. Yet I know that Mr Darcy's charms are vast and I am yet to meet a girl, no matter how principled, who has not finished that book completely in love. I think it's the moody thing. When a moody man is nice, it makes it all worthwhile...

3) Seth Cohen - Okay, hardly literary, I know. The OC isn't one of my favourite programs, but Seth, played by Adam Brody is just loveliness personified. He has a thing for superheroes. And glasses. And he's Jewish. That's it really...

4) Spiderman - A nerd who can kick ass. Need I say more?

5) Mr Bingley - in the film he is ginger...

6) Josh from Clueless - Okay, in this one I am combining Mr Knightley with his modern day equivalent. Mr Knightley has that lovely, older man quality. He loves Emma despite her meddling naivity and he's suitably sarcastic and cynical. Plus Paul Rudd is HOT. He really has that sarcastic eyebrow raise down to a tee...

7) Ron Weasley - Plus all of his brothers. I know that Sarah Dixon is with me on this one. Why would anyone ever go out with boring, weird Harry when they could have his ginger, bumbling best friend? I'll let Ginny off though. I will not be seen to condone incest...

8) The Doctor. (played by Mr Tennant of course.) - So I didn't watch Dr Who when it came back with a bang. All my friends were completely obsessed, even when Christopher Eccleston played the lead. After a couple of years, I watched all of series two on Youtube. It was astonishing. David Tennant has an awesome nervous energy which makes him perfect for the role. Seeing him in Hamlet didn't harm his appeal either. It might be the Scottish thing. Accents are always a bonus (Ewan McGregor, James McAvoy, anyone Irish...). Though he was a bit weird in the Goblet of Fire...

9) Father Amadi - from Purple Hibiscus. I love this book, and if a Nigerian Catholic priest doesn't do it for you, I'm not sure what will...

10) Sirius Black - "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."... Phwoar.

11) Dave the Laugh - Right, I'm sure most book-type people would recoil in horror at the mention of the Georgia Nicholson books, but I am fairly sure that anyone who mocks them hasn't read them. They are funny, light-hearted and full of awesome comic timing. Dave the laugh is one of the greatest characters ever written. And as everyone knows, "the bigger the PANTS, the harder they fall..."

12) Holden Caufield - The best narrator ever. He's clever and iconic and just a big dose of awesome. I read once that the people who like Catcher in the Rye are more likely to go crazy in later life. I embrace Holden Crazy with open arms... I think I say 'embrace' too much...

13) Jake from One Tree Hill - Maybe it's the single dad thing. Maybe it's the fact that he's a little bit ginger. Whatever it is, he is infinitely better than Lucas and Nathan. What are those girls thinking?

14) Romeo played by Leo - I think the actual character is a bit dull, but Romeo is the original hearthrob, and I feel unable to leave him out. In the film he is pretty and the fishtank scene is epic...

15) Jess Mariano from Gilmore Girls - No OF COURSE I don't watch Gilmore Girls (!)

The devil owns a bookshop

Well it's been a while. I have been wearing the same clothes since yesterday morning. This is gross. I ended up going to a Warwick open day yesterday and then on the spur of the moment stayed with Helen in Leamington. A very bad thing has happened. I really like Warwick... I had resolved to dislike it, mostly due to the fact that if I go there I will be studying French and Italian rather than Spanish. Obviously Spanish is the more useful language as everybody told me when I was trying to decide what to apply for. The Warwick language department is pretty small so they don't offer Spanish. Another thing which was putting me off was the fact that the year abroad is in the second year rather than the third, however I came away convinced that this was best. Also, Italy is really, really nice. So yet again, we'll see...

I sent off my application to volunteer at Greenbelt today which is exciting. I'm also hoping to do a bit of work over the summer at an English language camp for French kids. They've expressed an interest in my application, so I'm hoping I get it. It would beat the Safari Park, surely?

Exam results came back today. I got a B in my history resit (after getting a C the first time). This sounds good, but in fact I only went up a few marks. This sounds bad, but I was convinced that after the Nullification Crisis crisis, my marks would have gone down. Any improvement is welcome.

I'm tired and moody (shocking I know) so I intend to spend the evening replacing homework with sleep and dinner with chocolate.

I saw Alice In Wonderland on Tuesday at the Imax in Birmingham for the lovely Jordan's birthday. It was pretty enjoyable, if only for the stupid "3D grannywag" glasses. I love getting engrossed in the film then turning round and chuckling at your friends looking ridiculous, sat beside you. The film was ace anyway. Of course it was no Sweeney Todd, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Anne Hathaway didn't even annoy me that much. The Devil Wears Prada haunted me for weeks...

This website is awesome! www.modcloth.com I want it all please!