Two AS papers down and eight to go, i can't help but feel i ballsed up paper one today in English lang/lit by providing my version of a town guide describing Great Yarmouth.. Great Yarmouth of all places. I induldged in a morning breakfast of two weetabix, cold milk, sugar and juice with the hope that it would evoke some literary genius within me come 9am, but no i wrote about 'cheap and cheerful' thrills and fish and chips.
My new found passion for yoga has given me the audacity of a tone-goddess. I'm working my way through the various poses and before i know it i'll have more chi than a pair of chopsticks. I wish i could get over my fitness obsession upon which i end up with ridiculous calf muscles and depleating boobs (which for some bizarre reason re-inflate the minute i consume any given amount of forbidden calories) and yoga in a way offers me a retreat; i feel womanly and 'workin it' in the solitude of my own front room where the local milkman and the fit thirty-something wont witness my red face and laboured breathing.
Last night's show was worth the main act. Cool guys and a Champion cover compensated the 40mile trip. Publicated hardcore porn, dirty punks and general dirt did not. Now, i'll relax, if only for one night, before exam slave labour starts once more and i mentally die inside and study my way to college freedom. Well until September.
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