Growing up
Aug. 10th, 2008 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skull_bearerMy mother has decided to move to Bristol. This is not such an up-shit-creek situation as it is since I am supposed to be 22 and thus able of looking after myself. The flat will still be kept, so I can always crash there if everything goes tits-up, but I think I'd better be looking for new accomadation for next year at the latest. It's not ideal, I'd been planning to finish at uni before moving on. Mostly because I have no idea where to go next. Royal Holloway if I get the grades, if not, everywhere up to and including Israel. As it is, things are a bit of a scramble, but hey, if I do get to Holloway, at least I won't have to bother settling in. The course looks insanely intensive, so that will be time saved.
Also, it's good for my mum. She's on depression meds, and this does look like the light at the end of the very dark place she's been in lately. She can rent the flat, three/four lodgers (two singles and a double), my stepdad would be buying a house, so no rent, pension in ten or so years time. So pressure, no kids, no worries. My brother's more or less moved out already. I'm really so happy. i've been so scared about her lately, she's been so isolated. But moving down to a nice, quiet town, with my stepdad and my step-sister and her husband and so-to-be kid.... well, it's nice to know I won't need to worry about her anymore. She'll be living with people who'll do that, and who'll look after her.
All the same, it took me twenty minutes of self-pep-talking and my special hat to calm down.
In other news, I've found my second grey hair, and have become resigned to the fact I am probably going prematurely grey. I don't mind. I've never been interested in being attractive and I think I could really work the mad spinster look. I'd look a bit like a bespectacled Madam Hooch. Besides, I'm allergic to hair dye, so if I absolutely hated it it wouldn't change anything.
All my books have arrived for my travels next week. The postman woke me up to deliver the last shipment, one of which was Harry Turtledove's 'The Man With the Iron Heart' an alternate history story centering on Reinhardt Heydrich surviving that bomb and surviving to lead a 'war on terror' on the occupiers after the war. I opened the box to check they were all there, got into bed, and had a weird half-waking dream in which I thought Mengele was in the bed with me. We chatted for a while. He wanted to bring Heydrich in, I said the bed was too small and told him to take his boots off (he was in full uniform). It was pretty cool, and I woke up feeling amused and slightly confused.
I think... I really think I'm an adult now. It's pretty damn awesome. Scary, but awesome. Like doing a stunt which you're getting to know well, only without a safety net. I was terrified, when I was small, that I would lose my imagination as I grew up. I spent last morning chatting to a guy who's been dead longer than I've been alive. I don't think it's likely.
Also, it's good for my mum. She's on depression meds, and this does look like the light at the end of the very dark place she's been in lately. She can rent the flat, three/four lodgers (two singles and a double), my stepdad would be buying a house, so no rent, pension in ten or so years time. So pressure, no kids, no worries. My brother's more or less moved out already. I'm really so happy. i've been so scared about her lately, she's been so isolated. But moving down to a nice, quiet town, with my stepdad and my step-sister and her husband and so-to-be kid.... well, it's nice to know I won't need to worry about her anymore. She'll be living with people who'll do that, and who'll look after her.
All the same, it took me twenty minutes of self-pep-talking and my special hat to calm down.
In other news, I've found my second grey hair, and have become resigned to the fact I am probably going prematurely grey. I don't mind. I've never been interested in being attractive and I think I could really work the mad spinster look. I'd look a bit like a bespectacled Madam Hooch. Besides, I'm allergic to hair dye, so if I absolutely hated it it wouldn't change anything.
All my books have arrived for my travels next week. The postman woke me up to deliver the last shipment, one of which was Harry Turtledove's 'The Man With the Iron Heart' an alternate history story centering on Reinhardt Heydrich surviving that bomb and surviving to lead a 'war on terror' on the occupiers after the war. I opened the box to check they were all there, got into bed, and had a weird half-waking dream in which I thought Mengele was in the bed with me. We chatted for a while. He wanted to bring Heydrich in, I said the bed was too small and told him to take his boots off (he was in full uniform). It was pretty cool, and I woke up feeling amused and slightly confused.
I think... I really think I'm an adult now. It's pretty damn awesome. Scary, but awesome. Like doing a stunt which you're getting to know well, only without a safety net. I was terrified, when I was small, that I would lose my imagination as I grew up. I spent last morning chatting to a guy who's been dead longer than I've been alive. I don't think it's likely.
