deconstructing mark
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Thursday 17.7.03 | RIGHT I AM FUCKING SICK OF THIS BLOODY DISSERTATION EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN'T ACTUALLY STARTED YET. WHAT QUITE I AM GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS RATHER ALARMING STATE OF AFFAIRS I AM NOT PRECISELY SURE, BUT AT THE MOMENT HURLING MYSELF OUT THE WINDOW SEEMS LIKE AN ATTRACTIVE OPTION. There now. That's better. Aaaagghhh, but what am I going to doooooo???????? Saturday 19.7.03 POSSIBLY the most random day I have ever spent in my life; decided to get the train to Poland with two certifiable Finnish girls. We actually got the train to Frankfurt am Oder (hands up and blush everyone who didn't know there were two Frankfurts in Germany; I certainly fucking didn't until about two months ago - anyway, this one's one the border) in which there is, erm, nothing, and walked across the river Oder to Slubije or Swubice or Skzwuzgtbrwubie or whatever the feck it was called - in any case, it sounded like something smokers hack up in the mornings. Actually quite a nice town, where we decided to get our hair cut (not the *first* thing one thinks about having just arrived in Poland, I grant you) for the hell of it and then ate, just to be authentic, in an Egyptian restaurant, admiring the waiters. How bizarre. Saturday 19.7.03 RATHER knackered today after went out with Oli last night to Berlin's answer to G-A-Y, the Busche. Was the first time I had been there and was certainly an experience, I must say. It had all the trashiness, the crappiness, the horribleness of Jeremy Joseph's hallowed establishment, but it was also very Berlin: any club that can combine Pink and Annie Lennox as unabashedly as Busche did gets my respect, albeit not a lot of it. I guess having said this, you can take what you want from a place like that; if you stop demanding that it's fantastic and enjoy it for what it is, it suddenly becomes a less repulsive and crappy, somehow. Hmm. Sunday 20.7.03 TWO bits today. Forgot to mention yesterday the feeling of endless satisfaction when an unsuspecting Matt got shat on by some sort of bird whilst having an innocent coffee, sitting outside a cafe. Wonderful. :-) Secondly, the news that my mother is planning to move to a certain 'Cruck Cottage.' The combination of which two interesting words make up the word 'Cruck,' Mark wonders... Monday 21.7.03 I'VE finally managed to put my finger on what London has that Berlin just doesn't. I love Berlin, think it's an amazing place, will definitely come back here, and, if I can get a job here, would happily live here for a year or two. But a year or two would be it for me, just because Berlin is a bit too generally catatonic for my liking. This hit me last night when I found myself pining for the London rushhour (which, let's face it, isn't perhaps London's main seduction - ) and it made me realise that it's just SO fucking laid-back here it's not true. I know this makes me sound like a loon, longing for the noisy, rushed shithole that London undeniably is, but I do. But enough moaning. James and Matt came round for supper last night, and very nice it was too. And I have finally managed to come up with a dissertation-title which both suits me and will keep my tutor quiet, so I am happy. Just have to start the damn thing now. Fuuuuuuck! Tuesday 22.7.03 RAH. I've just booked a ticket to Paris. Off in two weeks for the weekend. Rah. | |||||||||
