Tonight I am melting. I’m shit at this heat stuff.
Right, I am really not very good at self-promotion. I baulk at the thought of contacting people, for example, with samples of my writing, and saying “I’m good at this. I want to do this for your magazine/newsletter/website”. It is easy for me to list my faults, to use dry humour to deflect my insecurities and stay exactly where I am mentally.
I am going to do this post about when I went to York a few weeks ago. I haven’t done it so far because I don’t feel comfortable patting myself on the back, especially in public.
But, now, on a warm, clammy Saturday night (see previous post), I find my options for things to do boil down to
a) sport-watching with my Dad (in the side room)
b) finals of Over The Rainbow find-a-Dorothy competition with my Mum (in the other room)
a) is just not my cup of tea, b) is, frankly, torture and c) is pointless.
So, WELL DONE ME!!
Pushed on by increasingly itchy feet, displaced by the angst of my recent birthday, I found myself with a strong desire to, in my vernacular, “just fuck off somewhere”.
York is a nice town, or city, I’m not actually sure which. It was a very rainy couple of days, so I didn’t actually do much sight-seeing. It didn’t matter. The point was to be somewhere different. The first night I got there late with bad weather and traffic, so I was tired and stayed indoors. The second day I went for several mooches. A mooch, for those not from my neck of the woods, is a short walk to find out what is around you, get your bearings etc.
I tried to do some sightseeing: unfortunately, your roving reporter could find only this castle, and proceed to state the obvious, that it was, in fact, a castle, more times than was necessary. You discerning people are more than capable of recognizing a castle when you see one.
There was something about the ducks that day. They were out in force:
The last part of the second day I found out my friend (and her friend) had taken me up on my offer to come over for the evening. It was a long-shot, so I was surprised when I got a text later that afternoon saying they were coming. So, my trip to York ended with a nice meal and drinks with my friend, her friend, and another girl (friend of my friend’s friend – a Yorkian dweller).
Once I got the “Go!” message from my friend it was already pretty late, so I had plenty of time to amuse myself (and try to stay alert) in my room by taking random pictures until they got there. This one (edited for anonymity) I liked because with the camera flash sort of looked like I was throwing a ball of light, like one of the X-Men or something.