So I’ve been away for some time. You may have noticed this, principally by the fact that when you visit my blog, it hasn’t been updated in goodness knows how long.
In actual fact, I have been away for quite a bit. My holidays began fairly early due to the fact that the school couldn’t teach us anything else. (Although judging by my grade results, I could probably have done with learning more of the things they [i]did[/i] teach us. Never mind.) There was a period of quite a few weeks where I variously lay about the house, messed around on my (brand new) laptop and came up with new and ever more imaginative ways of doing nothing. (There is a surprisingly high number of coding projects I’m working on right now that I will never finish.)
Then suddenly, one Friday, I went off to some Christian camp, and for the next month I slept in my own bed for at most three nights. I know. From one thing to the next, I flew. To be honest, my flying went from a brief Christian camp to slightly less brief mission trip in Wales and then to a family holiday in Sussex. I mean, it wasn’t much. But at least it was an excuse.
And that is why I am telling you. These holidays are my excuse. You are my beloved readers, and I would never, *never* think of not writing for your pleasure. Indeed, the weeks where I skip my blogging are, quite honestly, painful, both spiritually and physically. I think we can easily ignore the weeks beforehand where I didn’t blog. Critics would use harsh terms like ‘laziness’ and ‘sloth’, but I think we, as friends, can agree on more accurate phrases such as ‘an enforced period of mutual pause for reflection’ and ‘forgetfulness’. However, I can at least shelter behind these past four weeks.
Well, not the past four weeks. I mean, I’ve also been back for almost two weeks now. It’s not like I’ve literally just stepped off a plane, fresh from saving crocodiles from whatever they need saving from. No, I’ve been moping around for a while, doing nothing. Well, really it was a continuation to the previous enforced period of mutual pause for reflection, but… you aren’t buying that, are you? Fine, I’ll use the proper term. I’ve been spending a week being lazy.
So I thought I’d update you. You may have already heard a bit of the news, probably because you’re my mother, but maybe also because you’re a stalker. Either way, this is embarassing and I should not be discussing this with the general public lest it ruin my already quite low chances of looking cool.
So, let us run through my big recent events, in order of importance. Really not at all important is the fact that I am now the proud owner of the cutest, smartest, most awesomely designed memory stick in the world, the Kingston DTSE9. 16GB of flash memory all locked into a single sliver of metal, and it looks beautiful. It’s probably completly impractical – the port has no cover, so there’s a high chance it’ll get clogged up with dirt and dust within a week, among other limitations – but it’s so beautiful I’d forgive it anything.
I have also become the proud owner of a Raspberry Pi (RasPi or rPi to those of us in the know). It’s that small computer thing that’s the size of a credit card, and runs Linux because there’s nothing else that’s small enough to fit on. It is not necessarily as aesthetically pleasing as the memory stick, but in other ways it is far more beautiful. Alas, I am no longer in the posession of a moniter, so it is functionally useless (and sitting in a box at home) but nonetheless, it is quite cool.
However, there’s far more important news. I am now a full, proper student at the University of Manchester. Indeed, the only thing left for me to undergo is that ritual that is Freshers’ Week. Or Welcome Week, if you go to the University of Manchester. I am currently sitting in my room, typing this out, waiting for the internet connection to work now that I’ve signed in and proclaimed my identity.
Some good point about Owens Park, which is where I’m staying? Well, I suppose I’m glad the fire alarms work. Especially at the dark hours of the morning where, being fast asleep, I appreciated just how loud they were, and effective at waking me up.
Although not waking me up enough to remember to take my keys and lock the door. I may need to work on that.
I suppose another good point would have to be the awareness that good grammar isn’t everything in life. Owens Park is just as good as Owen’s Park, or any other ‘correct’ derivative of that name. Really, sometimes people just need to get out and live their life. Honestly.
However much I moan (if you haven’t noticed the moaning yet, go back and read the last three paragraphs really carefully) it’s cheap*, it’s cheerful, and it’s got a number of fairly nice people in it, so I can’t complain really. Indeed, I reckon, eventually, I might just grow to like it as a place.
* for a given value of cheap