Diaries Magazine
Lancaster Third Year, a Snapshot of Memories.
Posted on the 22 October 2011 by Lucymiller321 @lucymiller321Let me just say now, that if I made a list of all the things that I miss about Lancaster I wouldn’t ever be able to stop.
However. I can’t help it. I’m sat in a hotel reception in Rome and I’ve graduated and I don’t know where three years went or how I got here and soon I have to move to London and I’m (just slightly) scared.
So. Just off the top of my head. Iiiiiin review...
Wednesday night, Bar Eleven two cocktails for a fiver, Friary afterwards, last bus, relentless frape, beavers, Shakespeare essay anger, Alan Rickman, Sense and Sensibility, the air is filled with spices, weekend afternoon, film on, cider at Robert Gillow, walk along canal, drunken Spanish, School Dinners, massive crocodile, having people I love a couple of minutes or a bus ride away, getting Chinese, having to lie on the floor because we ate too much, a ghost in Hustle, Barker House Farm, broken vending machine, it’s not a classic anecdote, is it?, taking a broom to Carleton, vegetable lasagne, nipping round for cuppa, being scared of Tonys, homoerotic wrestling, waking up at 4am because Emma and Becca are pretending to be wood pigeons, six quorn pies, bit o’ Colin, too much blusher, pub golf, losing my sunglasses, is this your boyfriend’s building and are those his keys?, I’ve never heard of a Jonathon cake, Greggs coffee, productive Learning Zone morning, Schad on Mrs Dalloway, you know when you have so much sex you want to die?, leave me alone ‘Sheer’!, sunny Wednesday afternoon walk to Rainbows, South West looming over the M62, where did you come from, planet loser?, lurking serpent, falling over in Revs, waving his Roman sword, stealing Meg’s lipstick, still having it, losing my keys, finding them in the door, knowing at girl at school called Pandora, never seeing her box though, Wonderwall playing at Grad Ball, boob popping out/ poking it, taxi to Cartmel, woke up in my coat, sort of... spacey, forgetting my pin, owing the taxi office, retracing footsteps, Windermere, rainy boat, fat swans, life affirming teacups, beef and black bean panini, Lonsdale bar, I’d smash that bitch up!, blue face paint, flashing Cartmel Extrav, results day, blind panic, relief, Pimms, boxes leaving, cougar!, last night scrabble, empty room, books gone, sleeping bag, no pillow, wardrobe of work dresses, not much left, leaving at 5am, first train to London, standing in the carpark as the sun rises and bursting into tears in the taxi, 5.35am, train leaving, gone.
It doesn’t matter where I am; there are far, far too many things (people) that I miss.
Reunion soon, please?
♥