This post is about my body!

(So be warned.)

I had my one-on-one gym induction today. Expecting a Ben-Stiller-from-Dodgeball kinda man, it was a slight surprise to find my instructor, Matt, was a guy who looked pretty normal, and not scary at all.

We talked about goals. He did all my measurements; I decided not to look until just before I go back to uni, see if progress has been made. He took me through a workout routine - it was hard. I'm so madly unfit, it's quite embarrassing. After five minutes on bike, treadmill and crosstrainer, and a small set of reps on a couple weight machines, I was ready to go home already. I only did a half workout as well. Tomorrow, my first proper workout, will be challenging.

It's about a mile from my house, the gym. So, walking there and back is two miles extra walking already, and that's before I've even worked out. The plan is that I'll be able to keep up with the boys walking to lectures without moaning!

I have a headache. I wish I had some cake. Victoria sponge, perhaps. Or, a regular vanilla nutmeg loaf. Should I make a cake now? I'm not sure I can be bothered, sadly. Cake is a joy.

Cute idea time!

I learnt how to make American pancakes today. They're not an exact replica of a Proper American pancake, since most authentic recipes require the use of buttermilk. So, my result felt and looked like a good ole IHOP stack, but tasted like a Shrove Tuesday pancake. Not bad at all!

So, instead of dinner, I had pancakes. My brother had some too. We enjoyed them muchly. Then, we had an idea.

Our mother LOVES pancakes, you see. When we go to America, she'd eat them with some eggs and toast and a cup of coffee, and perhaps a bit of French toast. Every Sunday at home, after JesusGodbloodmagic time, we have a large breakfast, like a brunch. Sausages, eggs, fish fingers, beans, toast, bacon (if we have any) and lots of tea.

Our idea is to surprise Mother by making her a stack of pancakes to go with her usual breakfast. (No French toast though, because I don't like it as much.) This is aimed to be a gesture of my general appreciation for her existance. Aww.

I went up north again...

... and of course, my lovely boyfriend was both boyfriend-y and lovely.

There were a few people that made that trip kinda cool, in random encounter ways. I shall tell you about them!

• The scruffy boy who was crocheting. I pulled out my knitting (in the round, for portability) and his face just quietly lit up and we just created things out of thread until my train pulled up. I gave him a small nod before I boarded; he returned it.
• The very well-dressed man on the final leg of the journey back home. He had some text he was madly scrawling on, circling violently with a black rollerball, while he typed into his laptop. He had a plain, but battered, silver band on his left ring finger. He seemed like he might be interesting to the eye, but possibly disappointing if he ever spoke.
• The 16 year old who went up north to visit his mother. He's in college.
• The cute Virgin employee who told me what changes to do to get home.
• The friendly employees at an Upper Crust who gave me free hot water, sugar and milk so that I could do chai in between changes.
• The tall Scottish girl in Converses and straight-leg jeans reading The Bell Jar.
  

I really want to write. I feel like I'm right in that place. The play were, if the idea is there, the words just seep out of me, like blood. I feel so dry right now though. Descriptions are easy. If I find myself in a place, I could describe it pretty artistically, but... nothing original of my own is happening. I had the idea, the one about the building, and the outcasts and the torture, but I have no idea what story that fits into. I hope it fits into a story. It seems too good an idea to let go of completely.

If I could just fast-forward this summer, and get to the end of September, then I could just spend a week cuddling with my boyfriend. That's a lot more fun than fetching shoes.

Hmm.

I get to see the best person in the world on Wednesday.

I have discovered Spotify. It's like all the freeness of Youtube or torrenting music, with the warm fuzzy feeling of not breaking the law.

I think I suck at ring theory. This isn't a massive problem. Set theory intrigues me though. Sometimes, you have to ask yourself if you can ask yourself a question, and then you get into a recursive loop of logic and wtf.

I obtained ice-cream today. I think I might eat it while watching skinny, toned people try to become "supermodels".

I got fat. Well, I was never skinny, but sometime over the past two years, I'm way closer to fitting into size 16 clothes than I thought I ever would. I should lose a stone, but I can't be bothered.

It's getting darker in the breakfast room.

I can't afford books right now. Not *really*.

I am being taxed wrongly.

I am in love. I am so much in love that sometimes I walk down the street with a stupid grin on my face that I can't get rid of, and everyone stares, and I just look to my feet, then the sky, then the walls of buildings I past, and I just smile. I smile so hard because it feels so good.

It's just life, right?

Work-related moanery...

I moaned that I didn't want to go to work yesterday. My father got very upset.

I didn't really mean it like that I was ungrateful, but work is a bit of a drag, I'll admit. I have my first long shift today - 6 hours, with a 20 minute break. It's pretty annoying that the 17 year old kids I work with get more breaks and do somewhat less work than me.

Onward retail soldiers, marching as to sell!

(At least I've moved on from Bad Debating Jokes to Old Hymn Butchering.)

And how does this make you feel?

I met a guy at Euros, he was called Joe Brown. He joked that has two pages of the New York phone directory.

We became Facebook friends. I found he'd recently posted to his LiveJournal, and linked this to Facebook. I followed the link, and slowly backtracked though.

He had cancer.

I mean, I knew that I knew absolutely nothing about the guy apart from the information my eyes saw, and the information that the few interactions we had could tell me.

But still, it's very weird how you can think you know somebody because you have breakfast with them, and you've talked a little bit about their lives in a superficial way, but really, you know basically nothing.

It makes me think about how much I know about people I supposedly know.

Again, very little. I'm pretty bad at listening. This might be why. I know so many little details, scenes of my life they appeared in.

I feel... very uncomplicated and sad. I assume that under my seemingly simple emotion of "somewhat upset", there's a million reasons and thought-processes, and slight regrets and muted pride and all sorts.

I think I might read for a little while and go to sleep. It's been a very tiring seven days, all in all.

Euros 2009!

Well, wasn't that fun! 7 rounds of judging, quarter- and semi-finals for the main competition and the ESL teams, and two finals in the most gorgeous building in Newcastle.

I should thank a few people and things for making this Euros the awesome thing it was. Thanks to:

• Russell and Oskar for spending their time, money and sanity on us debaters.
• That guy in the room debating using the placebo effect who claimed that he could be a Vietnam marytr. I didn't get it then, I don't get it now.
• Joe, for being older, wiser and always willing to talk to me.
• James, for having breakfast with me on the first morning.
  
• Lewis, for being sexy (!) and good at judging.
  
• Ben, for being fun, Swedish-Israeli and giving me good feedback so I didn't have to judge bins anymore.
  
• Elena, for being beautiful and uncomplicated.
• Cal, Neil, David and Michael, for being themselves.
• Chris from York, who is still alive, but probably very ill...
  
• Dom, who wore a three-piece suit, Converses and Tardis cufflinks to the end of tournament Black Tie event.
• Sarah, who had a fit of hysterics at the most inappropriate joke I've ever told.
• The Turkish contingent, for the most enthusiastic cheering of Galatasaray A.
• The three Oxford teams in the final who had to accept that they were not loved as much as Tel Aviv A were for breaking to finals.
• Tel Aviv A, for wearing Stewie and Homer ties during their final speeches, and enduring TWELVE rounds of debates, since they broke to ESL semis and the main final.
• Oxford A, for winning. JLM, for best speaker.
• Dan for being best speaker for our institution. Woot!
• Mashall, for looking drop dead gorgeous on the final night.
• Nati, for the killer wink and general friendliness.
• Emile, for getting me home while I stumbled around drunk, being James Bond and making a gun shape with my fingers.
• Chris, for helping me realise how important love really is.
• Zal, for helping me realise that I can do whatever I want to.
• Caylee, for explaining Kosher to me.
• The guy with the Blind Guardian bag who never talked to anyone and just read and listened to music.

I have probably not included several people who were fun, amusing, or generally nice to me. But, there certainly were a lot! I had a really really great time. Next year, it's in Amsterdam, hosted by Bonaparte. Hopefully, I might get an opportunity to go to Euros once more!