or maybe a week..

so i went to manchester
actually no, first, can i just say, i'm so glad its wednesday. i've been ready for this week to be over since it started, and wednesday is sure-fire evidence that the week is trying hard to be done.
i have fourteen days left at my job.
and a trip with rusty to an unnamable location before the fourteen days are up.
so yes i went to manchester and had an odd but good time. remembered just how involved life there can get, and at the same time how fun, pure fun, laughing and laughing kind of fun. friday night was brilliant, we were farewelling olivia - still can't believe that on her last night, at about 4 am, i realised for the first time that her two names could be made into bolivia....what a waste of five years
and so we had a dance and some fun chats and some useful chats and some great tops five....as it became..and then kebabs...and sang danny boy on the bus which i only remembered about yesterday...and then i realised i was glad to be moving back. at the table in ponana just towards the end we realised that in six weeks i'd be the only one of us at the table living in manchester. (not sure of the grammatical soundness of that last sentence...ought it to be *we realised that in six weeks i'll be the only one that lives...*any takers..)
i spent saturday in a pleasant succession of appointments, breakfast with claire, then with george and claire, a four hours all-told stint in the opposite bbc nero's...then patrick waite - who, since looking at his blog yesterday properly...turns out his name might actually be patrick - all confirmation or denial glad welcome..the chicken and pesto something in revolution now comes highly recommended.
now, i'd like to talk about a film which i then proceeded to watch with some friends at blair road...the day had been designated Duvet Day, although I do not recall any duvets actually being present in the end. i did have, however, a hangover, which is a horrible substitute for a duvet.
so we watched something french and i was so tired and weak that i cried because i could not read the subtitles.
so i carried on crocheting instead and i was fine.
then we watched something which, dear reader, i should like very much to discuss with you
before sunset
now, i love ethan hawke. don't get me wrong, i don't like or admire the guy, i love him, and he has held my regard for longer than any other man of my acquaintance. however this particular film was not to my liking. the wierd thing was that i should have liked it. in theory, it would be a top five contender even. nothing happens, and its visually beautiful, therefore i should love it. but no
now, either my heart has continued its steady shutdown towards and in readiness for the barren spinster life that awaits me, to the point where i cannot even enjoy the notion of others being in love any more. or it was full of predictable lines and events that my wizened cynical mind was just glad it didn't pay money to see. i don't know, but when some of the people you love most in the world are in raptures over a movie that you yourself know you should, by rights, be squealing with joy over, something's wrong isn't it?
so when the movie was done and the joy of my friends was complete. i felt i should be elsewhere. so went to see phil and laura. and what an evening. lovely, is all i want to say.
and now i am taking for my lunch a poppy- and sesame-seed bagel with slices of apple and banana
again, healthy and smug
oh still reading pride and prejudice...so cross yesterday..reading it on reception...left to go home, at the point where he's about to ask her to marry him - the first time....realised on the bus that i'd left it in work...drats.
i should go, i'm rambling again