Giant-ass pandas.

On Sunday afternoon after brunch and a mid-morning scramble, I moved back to London. Laden with three bags and a laptop case I stumbled my way across the country and wound my way up and down the stairwells of the city, only to arrive back to an empty house and severely aching muscles. Not a wonderful start. I watched Charlie Boorman until my housemates arrived and then began my second year with a hardcore early night. Lectures were go! on Monday with the Victorians (big chunky novels and seminars on the twelth floor to be exact). I had lunch with Katie and Ed from Creative Writing and then went to the library for a thorough internet session. The house is perfect; we have a park, we have FISH, but dammit we don't have the internet. It's pathetic how cut off from the world I feel. In the evening I went to see Adventureland in central, which was lovely and then went home for another early night. I think I must be doing the whole student thing backwards. This morning I had an abrupt Shakespeare lecture and a seminar which involved the tutor dispelling Shakespeare as a myth, followed by a nice cheap lunch at the Thailand with Jenny, Gabby and their friend Lydia. Reading begins today with the Taming of the Shrew, aka. a chance to watch Heath Ledger in all his glory. And so begins the autumn term.

Goodbye Summer.

It's been great.


Thank you to all the people who made this summer wonderful. I'm going to miss you big time.

OH WOW ♥.

Note.

A year ago I started university, which I find very hard to believe. It was big, it was scary. And here I am again, packed and ready to throw myself back into the deep end. I wish I could say that the second year Jess felt a tad more excited or confident than her freshers counterpart, but alas. In other news, normal life is very much up in the air at the moment. People are leaving and nerves are prevalent, but I don't really want to talk about it.

Bear with me and here's to normality resuming itself post haste.

(Oh I hope so.)

Where The Wild Things Are.

(namely Lion Man)

These past few days I have been camping in the wilderness with Charlotte, Harry, Vicente, David and Will, just like old times :) We went on a gigantic Tescos spree before we left, and bought supplies which consisted mostly of meat, crisps and alcoholic substances, thanks to some inspired shopping choices. We drove deep into Snowdonia to the campsite at Gwynant; Harry, Senay and I arriving to find the tents ready erected, hurrah. The boyfolk built a large, smoky campfire and set about cooking burgers and playing shot chess (of which Harry was the undisputed champion/hardiest drunk). Vicente distributed much-needed wilderness hats from Bolivia. And Charlotte and I grew progressively more cold, to the point that I spent the remainder of the evening snuggled in Harry's sleeping bag.

I was awoken at the bright and early hour of nine o'clock by the restless, experienced campers among us. Harry made eggy bread and sausages for breakfast and then I went for a solo adventure in the surrounding countryside. After a pot-noodle lunch Will, Charlotte and I ventured to Capel Curig for the computer-age equivalent of collecting the mail (i.e. checking for texts) and gas/snack buying. It was lovely and warm inside the car, but alas we were not permitted to remain and so back to the campsite we went. There, we were allowed to lounge in the relative warmth of the tent for a while, completing some crosswords and snacking on jaffa cakes. In the evening we were driven back out into the cold for pasta, marshmallows and mulled wine. Charlotte and I were sent away to wash the dishes (women that we are) and when we came back (after a good half hour of intensive scrubbing) there were jacket potatoes waiting. We played a spate of drinking games, including Ring of Fire and the one where we are all shops (?), until eventually this descended into our usual marathon of 'President'.

By the last day I was wearing ALL of my tops, I was that cold. After breakfast Harry, David and Vicente hired kayaks and rowed out onto the windy lake. They took it in turns jumping from the hillside into the freezing water as Charlotte, Will and I snapped pictures from the safety of the bank. Later we set off in search of signal and food again. I was in charge of securing a second lift home and in the process I bought a pound's worth of fudges ♥. Back at the campsite I went for another solitary explore, past the ruins and over a couple of stiles and small streams. Eventually I came to a field of sheep and fearing I was trespassing turned back again. The joys of the wild. :) Back at camp we began dismantling the tents and packing our things away. Charlotte and I acquired the remaining bread and went off to feed the ducks. I think we rather stole the thunder of a couple on the opposing bank with a similar idea. All the ducks flocked our way rather than theirs. Eventually we arrived home, tired and grateful for hot water and warm beds. I have washed my hair two times already and yet it still smells of woodsmoke. As much as I try, I don't think I'm cut out for the wilderness.

Homeowners.

So, I never really mentioned it at the time because I was in Prague and because I am less than enthusiastic about the summer coming to an end, but I am now the proud owner of number eleven Scawen Road. It may look like a tiny little terrace in the picture, but it's actually pretty massive once you get inside. Today I went to the Trafford Centre with my mum and dad in search of pretty things to beautify my new room. We spent a long time in Selfridges, browsing our way through the Cath Kidston section, where I bought some flowery tea towels, cowboy writing paper and a blue enamel mixing bowl (because year two = baked goods galore). I also had my eye of this tea-cup and saucer set

but my dad got in the way of the money spending with his thrifty ways and his unnecessary realism. "But you don't even drink tea" = going on the largest teacup and teapot binge the moment I get back to London :)

As a matter of fact, I've spent far too long considering how to decorate no. eleven recently. Every time I see a picture of a cute design idea, a bed linen den or an interesting photo arrangement I save it to my computer. For starters, there are at least five examples of floral bunting I covet. Although in reality my room will remain a kingdom of cardboard boxes and confusion for several long weeks after I move in, I hope that someday it will look a little like this. Or this, or this, or this. Particularly the last one, because that's the kind of messy state I could maintain forever.

It's love, not Santa Claus.

"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die"
I know that this has been mentioned a thousand times over, but I feel the need to jump aboard the amateur film-critic bandwagon and extol its virtues some more. 500 Days of Summer, wow. It was just so pretty. Zooey Deschanel is too darn cool. And Joseph Gordon-Levitt is potentially my new favourite boy-thing ever (if only for his chalkboard headboard and his many granddad jumpers). It was nice to watch a film for once, without feeling the ever looming presence of romantic disillusionment. But it did leave the daydreamer in me feeling a little bit hopeless and downhearted at the end. And Autumn, really? True story, Sam cried. Oh, and Hannah and I played the 'PENIS' game all the way home.

Memory Keeper.

The plan for tonight is 500 Days of Summer, followed by nostalgia evening at Emma's house, so today I've been spending some quality time among the family archives and putting our new scanner to good use in preparation for the latter. The following pictures are some of my favourites. I especially love the over sized glasses and the rainbow braces in the second photograph down.

I've always been a one for the past, trawling through the baby books time and time again, but until this morning I didn't appreciate just how many photographs we own. Whilst searching for a photo of my younger self dressed as a pirate (I never did find it, I wonder if such a thing actually exists or whether I just dreamt it) I found several albums I had never seen before, among them my parents' university photos. It was a little unnerving; they looked so young, strange to think they were only a year or so older than me when the images were first documented. It makes me wonder how well we'd get along if I met them in London and also, in a perverse way, it feels a little like looking into the future. I'm certainly beginning to see where I get the over-the-top photographing instinct from though.

Ginger Biscuit Club.

Love these girlies and their rant absorbing skills. I don't know where I'd be without them ♥

Arts & Crafts.

I may have been reading too many pretty design and food blogs, but I really want an arts and crafts day.

I have several large scrapbooks to fill with pictures and writing and assorted ephemera; one for travelling, one for school days, one for summer. I need to make twentieth birthday cards and a felt Flight of the Conchords doll for Paris and a leaving present for Hannah to equal the amazing one she made for me. I want to make bunting for my new room. And cupcakes. Oh and would you look at this panda bread.

One, two.

Skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred posts, who'd have thought it.
It's been a strange sort of week. A bit disjointed, a bit confusing, a bit fun.

On Tuesday I went to Chester with Charlotte. We did boyfriend shopping, which was not easy and ate deep fried mars bars in the rain which was very much so. In the evening we went to see Coco Avant Chanel. I lost my unlimited card and was in a bit of a panic, but I found an old email with a special number for such situations, so it all worked out okay in the end. Later we went for one last game of hide and seek. It went well, but for a vicious confrontation with Gareth regarding the number of people allowed in a car. Oh and that minor detail of dealing with harsh blue lights and policemen at one in the morning (Hannah's been arrested. Get to MFI carpark NOW).

On Wednesday it was Harry's birthday. 20 years old, scary stuff. I attempted to make and bake a red Lego cake in lieu of the occasion, but when I prised it from the baking tin it crumbled all over the kitchen counter and I had to postpone the idea when butter icing failed to stick it back together again. We went out for a meal in Wetherspoons and then to one-four-seven to play pool. It was a rather quiet affair, but there is talk of a camping trip in the next few weeks so not to worry.

Last night we went to Liverpool for Hannah and Sam's birthday celebrations. Travelling by so-called boogie bus (read: BOOOOGIE BUS ♫) was an interesting experience. There was in fact very little 'boogying' involved, but that probably had more to do with our own aversion to the backseat dance floor. Anything, it seemed, was permitted aboard the boogie bus. In Liverpool we went to a number of bars and a number of clubs, where I drank many a colourful cocktail, a cream-egg flavoured concoction and a handful of apple VKs. It was an enjoyable night with a little bit of detective agency thrown in for added confusion (don't ask). We got back to Colwyn Bay at half four, where I found myself pressed to provide bedding for eight or so guests. The house proved very satisfactory on account of the duvets, blankets and pillows it had to offer, but was slightly less forthcoming with regards to actual beds.

And now it is the day after, I slept a total of three and a half hours last night and I am thus recovering with KFC and teacakes. In a minute I'm going to curl up with a duvet and watch the Darjeeling Limited. I do love Adrien Brody. ♥