It's been forever. I'm submerged under crap British TV and incessant busyness. I have a job now, well actually two and a bit, but I haven't started any of them so I'm still super-broke, but very busy. After next week I'll be abundant in time and peace of mind. I'm also dead excited about university, but I find myself wanting to get everything in, doing everything having multiple picnics and parties (STILL haven't been out clubbing yet! I'm feeling very uncool), meeting and kissing new people and makng memories with my old people because I want to have something I can pinpoint and say "Yes, this is my turning point, this is where everything was gorgeous and the future stretched out incomprehensibly like the deep blue Pacific, in this hot British summer where I turned 18 and started the last phase of My Plans".
By Plans I mean the Plans I made when I was a kid and imagined that my life stretched out like a giant blue lake that didn't have any meaning after I finished uni. Everyone told me I was going to Uni. Even then as a kid I could sniff out the imperceptible "Or else!" I would do something amazing, probably write the Great Black-British Novel even my Dad could read and then support my family for the rest of my life, all the while finding my Prince, someone who would love me and let me look after them without questioning me or my integrity in this amazing Central London flat near some place with an Alfresco diner or those cute places I saw in American TV.
As a child I still wanted to get away. My Dad recalls a day when I was about six years old, and Dad came to pick me up from school and found that I wasn't there. Panicking he began driving around, until he saw me at the bus stop looking at bus times. I think I was trying to run away to this super gorgeous flat where I could read books all day long and doodle on the walls. I remember as a slimmish (ha!) seven year old, spending the afternoon placing my dear possessions into a cardboard box, addressing the box to "Hollywood, USA", dressing up into my swimming costume and climbing into the box, hoping that my brother would take me to the post office who would realise their mistake and send me to a rich lady. It never happened. I still dream of those days, when I was so innocent that I didn't realise I was innocent.
And now My Plans are about to be realised. After university I won't have a clue. I really won't. I'll come out of my graduation ceremony (my brother had his on Tuesday! I would be even more exceptionally happy for him, except it looks like he's going to stick to shop work for the rest of his life...) looking library dazed and terrified. I don't care that everyone still thinks I'm going to amazing things, stop! I don't know what these amazing things are going to be! What are supposedly amazing things! All I can do is write and argue for myself. And love people. This maddening, innate ability to love.
Right now I'm missing my friend bloggers - DM, Lioness (darling, my darling who's having a shitty time), Unfurled who I know reads it from time to time - how are you???, Gorgeous LJ girl who reads White Horses - I want to hear from you! I want to hear from you all, because it's really lonely on the internet and thats why I'm hardly here...
Now, I'm off to amend my profile, which I'm sure will release more introspection. And I'll tell you more about the picnics, I shall :)