Well. Having been reminded by Seph and vin that I actually have a blog (supposedly) I thought it was probably high time I actually wrote in the darned thing.

Since the last time I wrote, I’ve acquired a cat, started uni and discovered my favourite place in the world. In that order. One at a time, then?

Okay: the cat. His name is Benny, he’s about 4 months old and he is a grey tabby. He’s also a little monster who yesterday discovered that he can jump onto the kitchen worktops, which now have to be cleaned before doing any food prep on them (not that we didn’t keep them clean before, but who wants kitty litter on their worktop? Eww.) He’s a monster because he has a habit of attacking people’s feet whenever they go past him, tearing off various bits of the stuff stuck on my door, and sitting on your shoulders chewing the ends of your hair. BUT he is a sweetheart when he’s sleepy, and his cuteness makes up for his misdemeanours.

I bet some politicians would like to be able to say the same. I’m not naming names, I think most people can guess who I mean.

Uni is great. I’m studying American Lit with Creative Writing at the UEA and I love it. I’ve made friends, I understand (mostly) the work and I’ve already handed in two essays (and am waiting for them to be returned with ‘GTFO’ written on them in big red letters). I’ve joined the UEA anime society and go there every tuesday, to watch Planetes, Potemayo and Macross Frontier. There’s not much else I can say, so on to the last topic.

My favourite place. The UEA has 240 acres of parkland on it’s grounds, including a massive lake, big area of woodland and Butterfly meadow, which hugs the estuary of the river Yare. Around the edge of the lake there are little jettys for people to sit and fish on. I have a particular favourite, which I call the stepped jetty, as it’s on two levels, so I can sit on the top one and out my feet on the lower one. On any of the others I’d either have to cross my legs or get my feet wet- not something I desire much. I spent two hours out there yesterday, revelling in the silence and solitudue it offered me, only interrupted occasionally by curious dogs. I walked partway round the lake to the stepped jetty and sat there for an hour reading Huckleberry Finn, before deciding to walk the rest of the way. I called in at Butterfly Meadow and had a bit of an explore of the woods, where I came across some rabbits, who ran away as I apporached, little white tails flashing beacon-bright. It was all very beautiful and I kind of regretted having to go back to where there were people. But I had a seminar to go to. Rest assured I’ll be back at the lakeside tomorrow though, weather permitting. Yesterday was perfect weather for a walk. I doubt it will be again tomorrow.

That’s about it for my update. Thanks for reading, if you have done so.


Well, I have returned from holiday, a day earlier than expected, although that wasn’t for any particular reason. We just got bored. I’ve been back for a few days now, but haven’t gotten round to updating this blog. I haven’t even gotten round to unpacking yet, so don’t expect me to keep up with a random blog no one reads. (why do I even bother?)

Anywho, holiday was fantastic, and that’s only because I got to meet this man:

Yes, I, Cooro, met a certain Mr David Tennant after the performance of Hamlet in Stratford-upon-Avon on July 29th (last Tuesday). And you know what? He was gorgeous sexy I wanted to kiss him a really nice guy. I mean, really nice! He chatted with me and signed his autograph and held my hand (oh yes! The sacred hand that David Tennant held!).

Seriously good day, that.

And the actual performance of Hamlet was unbelievable. I ran into a friend of mine on the bus this morning, and she asked me how it was. I spent a couple of minutes casting about in my brain for a good enough word, while she just sat there grinning and said, ‘That good, huh?’

It is indescribable. The acting is astounding, especially David Tennant, who I have never seen acting like that before, not even in Doctor Who. He went from serious and sane to stark raving mad in seconds and it was utterly, utterly convincing. The other actors were great too- Oliver Ford Davies playing Polonius is particularly noteworthy.

The rest of the holiday was so-so compared to that. We did the normal English camping holiday stuff- stately homes, botanical gardens (did you know there was one in the centre of Birmingham? Amazing!) shopping yada yada yada. Oh, and we went to Ikea. I had reindeer salami there. It’s surprisingly good, although I felt guilty afterwards for eating Rudolph. You don’t think Santa will punish me for that, right?

And I also tried something in a sandwich shop called Oriental Honey Chicken (OHC) on a baguette. Seriously good! Bright pink, served cold and with a sprinkling of salad- mmmmm. You can’t see, but I’m drooling Homer Simpson-like at the meer thought of that stuff. But, I only had it once while away, and it’s unlikely I’ll ever have it again. Sigh.

Now I’m back home, I’m thinking about what to do with myself. I’ve been job hunting several times, handed my CV in at a few places, but so far, it’s been fairly fruitless. So instead I’ve decided to distract myself with pirates. Oh yes. I had an idea for a story (short or long, I don’t know at this stage) about pirates, but of course, all good stories need research. So I’m currently fishing (if you’ll pardon the pun) for everything I can find out about pirates on the internet. I bought a book (The Mammoth book of Pirates, har har) and went to the library to reserve some stuff, including Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, as research material. Should be fairly interesting (anything to distract myself from the dreaded results day looming over me).


Well, I’m off on holiday, won’t be back for a week. Bye bye ^-^


I feel bored. And lonely. Generally the fact that I’ve never had a boyfriend, or even been kissed, doesn’t bother me, but occasionally when I’m this bored and I’ve been by myself for a few hours (being bored) I kind of wish that there was someone…there. You know?

Really, though, the lonliness is shadowed by my overwhelming boredom. After watching a film (Sky Blue), reading 40-odd chapters of manga (Vampire Knight), and watching the latest Bleach episode, it settled like a black cloud over my head, and I can’t get rid of it. My mood matches the weather today- bored, lonely, plagued by black clouds and rain like tears.

Okay, that’s probably a little melodramatic, but I am, after all, a writer. Daily moods sound so dull if you don’t dress them up a little.

So yes. Lonliness. Boredom. And I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, which I discovered I actually have to pay for now that I’m 18. It should be about £16.20 for the checkup, which I can afford, and if I needed any actual work done it would be over £40. Which I can’t afford. So I’m just hoping like hell that I don’t need anything done, otherwise… I dunno. Would they force me to stay there until one of my parents came to pay the bail, so to speak? Can dentists do that?

…political correctness has actually gone even further into the grounds of ‘too far’.

This article was brought to my attention today: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/politics/education/2261307/Toddlers-who-dislike-spicy-food-racist,-say-report.html

Bacially, it’s saying that kids as young as three who don’t like spicy foods are apparantly racist. This includes saying ‘yuck’ when offered food from another culture.

Excuse my French (or is it racist to say that?) but what the fuck is going on?? So they don’t like spicy food. Big deal. Neither do I. At that age, young kids are still trying out different foods, seeing what they like and what they don’t like. This is development of taste. It’s normal. Right?

Apparantly not. If a child as young as three doesn’t like spicy food, then they’re racist, are they? Rubbish. I didn’t like curry until I was about ten, and I still don’t like anything spicer than a tikka masala. Does this mean that, from when I was born to when I was ten, I was racist? Of course not! And it’s fucking stupid to assume that toddlers- toddlers! kids as young as three- can be considered racist if they don’t like certain foods. I don’t like brie or camambert. Does that mean I’m racist against the French? I’m not a fan of sauerkraut. Apparantly I’m after the Germans now. I hate toad in the hole and bangers and mash, and shepards pie. By the ‘logic’ of this article, I am now prejudiced against my own nationality.

How twisted is that?

Kids that young barely understand what it is to be a racist. At that age, they’re not going to be basing friendships based on the colour of someone’s skin. They’ll be basing it on who shares sweets and who pushes them into puddles, and God forbid if the latter is a different nationality, because it’s obviously an issue of racism.

Frankly, I’m not even going to bother to take this article at face value, and just assume it’s some sort of joke. Because, really, not even the government is quite that stupid as to think that racism is based on what food we like, or don’t like, to eat.


Well, the last couple of days of Jery’s visit we spent round at Natz’s, playing on her Nintendo Wii (I kind of want one). That Mario Party game was especially fun, and the Bleach game as well. We also played Worms on an old Nintendo she had, which was also fairly amusing. The three of us went for walks around the neighbourhood, and on Thursday ended up at a small lake which I didn’t know existed. Anyway, we sat on a hill in the sun by the lake and ate lunch, watching the damselflies hovering around.

That sounds lovely, right? Except the lake was surrounded by building sites, so it was noisy as hell. we were in direct sunlight without suncream or shade, so we were hot and irritable. The hill was so steep that we had to balance on loose rocks and try to eat before we fell, and we had to bat the damselflies away from our food while we ate, which of course didn’t do much to help our balance.

See? A skillful writer can make anything sound good if they remove the details.

The picture is of me, Natz and Jery in my back garden on Jery’s last day. I’m the blonde one on the left, Jery’s on the right and Natz is in the middle.

We took Jery back to the station on Friday evening (and did the whole running alongside the train up the platform thing like they do in films). And then I got to work, packing up everything I own and moving it into the garage. I slept in there last night too. This is because I’m redecorating my room. It is no longer purple. It is light green (I call it ‘apple’ but my mother disagrees. It’s ‘soft green’ on the tin)

Sleeping in the garage is horrible. The spare bed is too short for me (and Jery was sleeping in there last week. I was lying in bed trying to sleep with my feet hanging over the end, thinking, ‘Jery is taller than me’. How did he manage without complaining?!) But I’m in there tonight and tomorrow night, and maybe sunday too (although I hope not).

I’m looking forward to getting my bed back. There’s nothing nicer than your own bed after a few nights of short, uncomfortable hideousness.

Much Ado About Naraku

So. On Monday we picked Jery up from Norwich rail station, then we went home. There’s not much to say about Monday because it was late (about 10pm) and we were all tired (Jery in particular, having been on several hours worth of train journeys in both England and Holland, as well as a six hour ferry trip from the Hook of Holland to Harwich).

On Tuesday, we went to the city and met up with Sophie in the city. Pretty much the first thing we did was go to Norwich Castle. It was fairly fun, apart from the fact that it’s been kiddified to such a degree that it’s on the point of dullness. Still, the dungeon tour was amusing, mostly because Sophie was afraid of the dungeons and clung to my hand all the way round, at one point nearly wrenching my arm from its socket when they turned the lights out, eventhough it wasn’t completely dark.

Then we wandered around Norwich for a bit, and visited the cathedral. Then we wandered around a bit more, Sophie went home, as did Jery and I. Then we pretty much spent the evening watching TV and I introduced Jery to the wonders of Doctor Who.

Today, Jery and I caught a bus to Great Yarmouth. Remind me never to get a bus to Yarmouth again. It’s about 40 minutes of dull, eavesdropping on various old ladies’ conversations, none of which were particularly interesting.

We spent a good couple of hours getting steadily lost in Yarmouth, before eventually stumbling onto the seafront and Regent’s Road, which is filled with the tackiest, obscenely glitteriest shops imaginable. My mother had charged us with a quest to find the best example of a tacky souvineer, and our answer was an 18 inch Freddy Mercury statue, which moved and sung various Queen songs at the push of a button. If that wasn’t enough, they had a John Lennon one as well.

Then we got bored, went to the Sea Life centre, spent a peaceful couple of hours gazing at fish, and then came home. But not before I bought an action figure of Naraku from the anime InuYasha, for only £2! I had a bit of trouble trying to get it to stand up until I examined the box and found a little stand under the label. Now he is happily guarding a few books I happen to have on the same shelf.

And now, after wandering around the incessently sunny and devestatingly hot Yarmouth, we went home, watched a few episodes of Futurama and the film Hot Fuzz, and now I’ve come to my room to write this and go to bed (after being scared out of my wits by Naraku falling over. I need to sort him out again.)

PS. In relation to my last post, I shall say that the bread, by the way, turned out well. If I do say so myself.