new england gothic

the blog that needed a nap

So one of the boxes of random possessions that I mailed to myself in Manchester just before I left Portland arrived today, and as I excitedly unpacked it this afternoon (having no idea any more what was actually in there) I took a bunch of pictures to post here. It was fun, but it certainly slowed down my day. Then transferring the pictures, selecting the good ones, exporting them, renaming them.

Now I finally have time to post them, and I'm realizing I can't fucking be bothered. The only reason I took them in the first place was because I knew this blog was in dire need of a new post. But they bore me, the pictures. It's just more of the same old navel-gazing crap I was doing all summer, only in a weird, inverted form.

Yawn.

So yeah, I think I'm done with blogging for the time being. At least here.  New England Gothic is on semi-permanent hiatus.

On a happier note, I think today's shipment may have delivered my Halloween costume ;)

Or y'know, I could always just go as myself.

Goodnight, babies. It's been real.

october

soundtrack

24 hour party people

Classes start tomorrow and a recent re-examination of the budget reveals that I badly need to get a job if I'm going to make it through the entire year with groceries in the fridge, so with this I may finally be caught up for a while on the backlog of pics I've been meaning to post. (I.e., social life = voluntary screeching halt) (for at least a week, anyway ;)

Shaun covered the final night of Freshers Week fairly well, so I won't bother to repeat. (Would have been infinitely more entertaining shots if my camera batteries hadn't konked on the way to the bar.)

Thursday night we went to 42nd Street, a legendary Manc nightclub not to be confused with 5th Ave, and yes I find the paired New York references quite amusing. (Though the Europeans apparently find *me* quite amusing; I've been teased by no less than 5 people now about my style of dance. Mystery was somewhat solved at 42's when Jay explained that I dance like a "typical American." (Or rather, a TV-stereotypical American...)

"No really -- I can't believe it. I feel like I'm at the Bronze."

Well, if I'm going to be mocked, at least I'm in good company ;)

(Using Flickr for these cuz there's no way in hell I'm going to upload them all individually to TypePad...)

Yeah.

:)