I started this (two or three days ago) with perhaps more noble intentions of not being just a diary, but I’m going to drop all that crap now and just admit to the fact that this is going to loiter in diary territory for some time.
This is the setting the scene a bit more elaborately than the last entry. Right now I’m catching up with my best friend Penelope over msn, because I got back from New Zealand five days ago from seeing my boyfriend and to be honest, I haven’t really spoken to any of my friends since I got back. I’ve been a bit depressed since I got back (naturally), I don’t particularly want to head out much, but I really should see all my friends before we have to bugger off back to university again. It’s also my birthday soon, which should serve as a convenient way to corral them all together.
It occurs to me now that this is also something of a to do list.
Therefore, things I have to do:
- I recieved a phone call from the Coroner’s office yesterday, giving me the date of the inquest, SIX MONTHS after Oscar’s death. Six months is a bit damn much, isn’t it?! Oscar isn’t a European citizen; he, was, rather, a young man from across the South Atlantic. Why should it take six months to investigate his death? Are the police really investigating the circumstances behind his death so thoroughly, thoroughly enough to ensure that a poor young man who may or may not have been a victim of people trafficking is never put in such an awful situation again?
I doubt it. But I think it would be great if those selfish, aloof idiots from the Met actually did enough to make up for all the shit they put Oscar’s friends, his family, even his fucking college through. Just catching the other selfish bastards who considered themselves his friends when they pushed him down that mental slide while they covered their guilt with drugs would be fucking stellar, really. I hope I’m not going to have to meet any of them at the inquest; but I doubt they’d care enough to go.
As you may have surmised, certain circumstances surrounding Oscar’s death are still sore for me. They are certainly one reason why I’m not going to touch illicit drugs in my foreseeable lifetime. What people do with themselves is fine by me, but no thanks.
- Back to the list: I have to fill in two insurance claim forms from my trip to NZ, one loss and one medical. The medical one is just a formality, but the loss! I had my camera taken when I was in Tauranga. It’s a reasonably pretty place, but chavs of Tauranga, I hate you. You were the one place in the whole of NZ that I didn’t like, because of the chavs.
I’ve also got a lot of other things on my mind. This year, I need to find a job to fit in with university – hard with the hire and fire culture of London, but I probably just need to toughen myself up a bit and acclimatise myself to that kind of environment. It’s better than the ‘absolutely no vacancies whatsoever’ environment of my village and its closest town. Perhaps the thing that most annoys me is the whole experience thing: you need it to get it. But when I get down to London again I’m just going to stick my fucking arm out, bite my lip and try not to let a lot of rejections get to me.
Last thing (well, this isn’t ranked or anything) is university. Specifically my reading list but in the background is my schedule, because it ties into everything else. Among the other things I have to read is Ulysses by James Joyce, which I anticipate using as a door stop or bludgeoning tool once I’m finished with it. I’ve already read some of the books, but i’ve also misplaced bloody Paradise Lost, which is my favourite book, and I’m really annoyed I’ve misplaced. Otherwise I’m really anticipating my course this year, mainly because I’ve picked it and hopefully there will be a minimum of Virginia Woolf about. For some reason she’s just not my cup of tea, though I tend to like the crackpots of modern literature (stand up WB Yeats). Mainly, this year will be about early modern English: Shakespeare and Milton, good day to ye. Also a linguistics module that I’m hoping will be really interesting, because when I took it at A level it was great, apart from all the repetitive paper work! It helped that I seemed to have a natural knack for it, which I hope I haven’t lost with my losing of my creative writing sense too.
I will check back at this list periodically to see how much I’ve done, but you don’t have to. (!)