Fish and chips

What a fucking day...what a fucking few days, actually! I hopped off the plane from York today and ran (yes, ran) to college to do my radio show with Ian, only to be informed that it would be on an hour later than previously intended. My boss was highly unimpressed, but I wasn't going to skip my show for the world. My course is insanely competitive, and it's difficult to even get one shot to prove oneself, so the most has to be made of it when such a chance is given. Anyway, the show went really, really well and I got such a buzz off it, even though I was TERRIFIED. But, I realised afterwards that it was a good kind of fear, an adrenaline rush much like the one I experience right before I get a new piercing. We made lots of mistakes, and had to improv quite a bit, but overall I thoroughly enjoyed it (as did Saz, who was probably our only listener). I'll admit that Ian and I got on each other's nerves from time to time, what with the paper and the radio show, but in the end, we made one hell of a team and he was really, really good fun to work with.

Now, on to my mad trip to York. It turns out that a shitload of people thought I was going to New York for the weekend, not the most haunted town in England (what fun trivia!) but, although it was random, we actually had a fantastic time. I didn't really know Niamh too well beforehand, and I was worried I might end up third wheeling it because her and Saz are so close, but the three of us ended up having the best craic. We went out on Saturday night to this club called Darklands, that we saw advertised on the door of a tattoo parlour, and it turned out to be a hardcore goth club! I was a bit worried that they'd be annoyed by the music (I, of course, was in my element dancing to bands like Siouxsie, The Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus) but once we had a few "house doubles" in us, we were dancing the night away. There was even a lock in at the end and we got chatting to everybody, including a couple in their forties who I wish were my parents.

Naturally enough, I dragged the two of 'em to the York Dungeons on Sunday morning. We were too enthusiastic to get picked out for any of the scary shit, though, but it was such a laugh! Afterwards we went shopping and I made them promise to make me buy something girly (because I'd already bought three oversized boys' T-shirts) and, eventually, I settled on a skirt in Topshop (yup, Topshop) and a dress in H&M. Madness really, when I think back on it... We ended up in bed early that night to be up at 7 this morning, but the trip was fucking awesome anyway. One of the best things about York was the fucking fantastic, proper fish and chips that we had. It was the first thing I ate when we arrived, and I proudly proclaimed it was "well good", which of course became a running joke, much like the words "Ta" and "innit" being used at every single opportunity. I also caved and bought a copy of that emo vampire novel, "Twilight" and am now glued to it (there goes my final assignment).

Today was fairly rough, to be honest. I legged it in and one of my favourite people in the whole world, who was stressed out of it in fairness, decided to just treat me like shit for the entire day. In the beginning, I kept trying to be sweet to him, because I understood where he was coming from, but I'm sorry to say that after a couple of hours I ran out of patience. I just wanted to dissolve into tears, which is pathetic, but I was under an awful lot of pressure at the time, not to mention sleep deprived and exhausted. The truth is, I feel strangely close to this guy, for reasons that only a couple of my closest friends know about, and I was really looking forward to seeing him because he always makes me feel...pretty and cared for and...dare I say it...slightly girly... I don't get that from a lot of lads (most just treat me like one of them, which I love, but still) and I guess it just sucked on top of everything else, especially because I really did leg it to college straight from the airport, which an awful lot of people wouldn't bother doing. It sucks, too, because I am so in awe of him. Anyway, I held it all in till the show was finished (because being professional means a lot to me), but when he tried to talk to me as I was leaving, I just muttered something about work and ran for it. I had tears streaming down my face the entire way to the bus stop, but I made sure I got rid of the evidence before I reached work. I detest showing weakness.

I don't know why I'm writing any of this down, except that it feels like an odd sort of release. I cannot wait to wear something new tomorrow. I cannot wait to hang with Saz and discuss the finer details of our trip. I cannot wait to lie in bed and listen to Radiohead and cry my eyes out, because I am that tired and that pissed off and that emo. Speaking of which, I cannot resist Edward Cullen any longer (although Robert Pattinson is still fairly lacking in my eyes)....

Song of the day: Slipknot - Vermilion (it seemed to fit the mood of my book on the drive to Leeds airport, when I was staring out at the passing landscape and just thinking, but it also spoke to me on the bus ride to and from work, when I was falling apart like a spa...)