(no subject)

[sebastienne]

The Oxford Tube stops right outside the Stonewall offices.

The Oxford Tube stops so close to Ashley's house.

And I saw James, and I saw Doctor Who (so fscking camp!), and I was made happy.

And, eventually, I made it out of bed on Sunday to dress up as a pirate.

But, gods, getting up this morning was hard. I haven't felt this tired since - well - term time. My eyes keep fluttering closed against my will. Caffeination, here I come...

I'm going to use my lunch hour to finish reading the first Mortal Engines book. Dear gods, is it a good book. Cities on wheels! Municipal Darwinism!

I have rediscovered the ability to read.

Oh, I've read lots, over the last couple of years: an Oxford degree'll do that, even to the most committed of slackers. But the ability to read for fun, I thought, had finally deserted me, as so many Oxford-students told me it inevitably would.

Wrong!

In the last two weeks I've read so much. The 3 Morse novels (pining for the fjords oxford, much?!) were, in retrospect, a mistake: simply not very good, although reading three back-to-back showed up the author's interesting fixation on women with broad hips & thin ankles, and the London sex trade. (bear in mind, at all times, the the author of the morse novels looks like this.) I've lost myself in books, looked up after a moment to find that two hours have passed, like I haven't since I was a kid.

I find this pleasing. It's something else on the barricade against the return of my mindless London-self.