화요일, 3월 08, 2005
today renu, wal and i went driving across some random moor, in a bid to waste some time before the hired car went back to its rightful owner. that poor vehicle has been trashed to within an inch of its life, and i pity the poor soul who actually ends up cleaning our newly-christened lena (ye metallic black vauxhall corsa). that aside though, the one hour drive provided a refreshing change of scene, in all senses of the word, showing that there really is life outside of durham, and we don't merely subsist in some little vivarium on some kid's bedroom shelf.

i had to get back into town in time for my coffee date with the Boy, who had gotten off work early today and wanted to meet up before the union wrested his time from between his fingers. looks like the kittens really will be called matt and dylan (dillon?) after all, which is going to cause unending trauma for those who actually understand the significance of naming two fluffy kittens after this celebrity of 90210 fame (i think). today's apparel of choice was the much-coveted jd t-shirt, which hearkens back to the time of the fresher's fair, where every other fresher was rooting through their chase goodie bags to see who had (excuse the pun) bagged the jd t-shirt.

in other news, after tea, i left the Boy to his work, and ambled on home. upon knocking on the front door though, i realised that there wasn't actually anyone at home to open the door for me. now, this has been the case ever since my purse got nicked some three weeks ago. i have been relying on the other three inhabitants of my house to open the door when i knock, or pass me their keys to get in. this intricate rota has proved failsafe for the past couple of weeks or so, but today, there was a slip-up. i was caught out in my front yard, having two pre-pubescent boys laughing at me as i made a sheepish phone call to the Boy, asking politely whether i could come hang at the union because none of the Housemates were picking up their phones, including the Housemate's Boyfriend, rendering me very much being left high and dry, and in my front yard, no less.

i didn't want to trouble anyone, but ten minutes later i found myself watching him pen dates in some diary deep within the arteries of the union, so i decided it would be a good idea to relocate myself to the cafe and try to make myself inconspicuous. no such luck though. the Boy managed to pop by a couple of times to inquire about the contents of the paper i was reading, which was sweet. sadly, i managed to get myself evicted from the cafe at closing time, and was relegated to the table outside the shop, left with a paltry attempt at trying to read the rest of my paper. the few people still milling around the union gave me strange looks, as to question: are you trying to sell me something? the answer was, sadly, no, but i felt godwafully uncomfortable trying to read my paper while people were surreptitiously trying to read the headlines of the guardian. i felt like muttering, there's a whole bin of them right outside at the door, go get your own, man, before disgruntedly returning to my article detailing the comings and goings of the mj trial.

alas and alack, at the end of the day, i find myself in a bind once again because i have close to 2000 words to write before i even begin to be done with my summative that is due-wait for it-this friday. all this last-minuteness is not being very good for my well-being.