I made my campus debut as a poet on Thursday night, at a 'women's performance evening'. I was extremely nervous about reading in front of trendy student feminists, but I got quite a positive response, especially to the 'horsecock poem'. Hurrah. It was a nice event in general, although towards the end there was a disturbing rash of a capella stabs at The Indigo Girls and Ani Di Franco... we left soon after.

On Friday I decided that I needed an afternoon to buy presents and shoes and to pull body and soul together in general, so I somewhat exaggerated my cold symptoms and was allowed to go home early. But crime does not pay, apparently! On Sunday I was SMOTE with very real swollen glands and an agonisingly sore throat, and I'm still suffering. Other than that it was a great weekend, with an exciting Thai meal at Krakatoa on Saturday night and a cake and biscuit orgy on Sunday in honour of two of my best friends turning 25...

Perhaps it's their milestones which have pushed me into action regarding my own life plan. I have Decided (as opposed to just thinking about it vaguely in the bath) to apply to do an MA in Information Studies and become a proper librarian instead of a drudge. If I can down enough Strepsils to allow me to talk, I may even phone the university today and ask U&K questions and stuff.

13:08

. . .

Grr. How can I be back at work when only 24 hours ago I was cosily crammed into my front room with six of the loveliest people ever to wear corduroy, eating chocolate biscuits and listening to Camera Obscura? S'not fair. I will save the details of the weekend for Sinister where they belong, but suffice to say I lost my DDR cherry, admitted that I would marry Ann Widdicombe, and didn't push anyone into the sea.

I am releasing my first book into the wild today! It was harder than I thought it would be to find something I can let go of (I dread to think what I'll be like when I have children and they leave home...) After several minutes pondering my shelves and almost settling on a nice new hardback Murakami, I wimped out and chose a rather horrible paperback edition of The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea, adorned with Kris Kristofferson's hairy visage. I know there's at least one other 'bookcrosser' on campus, so I'm quite hopeful that Kris will be picked up by a reader rather than a cleaner...

10:09

. . .