Graduation July 1, 2011Posted by Fiona in Big things, Durham, Law, Look what I did, Lovely people, Really good day, Theatre, University.
Graduation means movement. Colour graduates. Two days ago, so did I.
My university experience involved a lot of sitting in libraries and accompanying backache. It involved a lot of coffee, and fruit tea, and late nights, and massive books. To begin with, I thought I’d read the massive books cover to cover and that’d be fine. I never did that once. I pulled more all-nighters than I care to mention. I blagged a lot. I slept in, and panicked, quite a few times. I came home at the end of every term and slept for several days straight, and I cried at eleven o’clock at night because I didn’t think I could keep going but I still had several hours’ work to do.
I didn’t get a first in anything. Not once.
I learned how to paint floors, and walls, quickly, and how to put up lights and hem tablecloths and take in clothes. I learned to knit jumpers. I made gallons of tea and cooked for fifteen with half an hour’s notice. I gave up my sofa, my living room, my entire house to other people, and I didn’t leave my bedroom for three days at a time.
I got drunk with people I didn’t know and regretted it every time, but kept doing it anyway. Eventually I knew the people and I still regretted it. I walked on cobbles and down steep hills in 5″ stillettos, and had to be walked home at two in the morning in the snow. I ate rice for five days in a row, and spaghetti bolognese four times in the same week. I stayed up til the small hours, drinking blackcurrant squash and playing Lego Indiana Jones with seven or eight people crammed onto two sofas.
When I graduated, I didn’t go to the law department. The law department is not representative of my university experience, even though I did a fair bit of law and I enjoyed what I did. My university experience would not be summed up anywhere near my department.
It’d be here, after working on a show with the other techies, all gathered round a table at the pub, dressed in black and grimy because we haven’t had time to shower for three or four days and so tired we’re all getting distracted by the lights on the slot machines.
Or it’d be here, eating cake backstage and trying to avoid being one of the people who has to move the piano and surruptitiously keeping an eye on my props table.
Or else it’d be at a college do, scrubbed up well and surrounded by friends, and smiles, and good conversation.
I’ll miss Durham, and I’ll miss my degree, and I’ll miss spending hours browsing Westlaw and reading things just that bit off topic. But if something sums up the last few years, it won’t be the law department. If I had to pick a building, it’d have to be this one.
Back home now. You’ll probably hear from me more often. Not that that’s in any way difficult.
Distractions May 18, 2011Posted by Fiona in Durham, Knitting, Sheer bloody-mindedness, University.
Exams are well under way, and my ability to concentrate has gone the way of the sleepless nights once again. My biggest worry right now is that I’m not doing myself justice, and no amount of Oh You’ll Be Fine is going to change that – I think it’s just the way of things.
I’m hampered slightly at the moment by the fact that there is a kids’ theatre troupe in the theatre this week (seeing as we aren’t using it) and they’re doing a production of Annie which opens tomorrow. Imagine if you will, trying to get your head round the difference between entrepreneurship and providing services as explained haphazardly but at great length by the ECJ, to the glorious theme tune of It’s A Hard Nut Life. My room backs onto the auditorium. I don’t like Annie at the best of times.
I’m taking an afternoon out to daydream a bit. His Nibs and I got these when we were in Dorset over Easter:
I’m afraid I rather fell in love with them – and I know just what I want to do with them. Now if only I could get these pesky exams out of the way…
The sock I said I’d started the other week has ground to a halt. Unfortunately my tension the last week or two has got massively skewed, so I ended up having to go down two needle sizes so that the sock wouldn’t swim on me. It turns out this is only a good idea for so long, and I’ve reknit the heel twice now and it’s still way too tight. I want to shout it isn’t fair! Why must my simple exam knitting go horribly wrong? But I have decided instead, a little reluctantly, to put the damned thing in time out and work on something else in the few spare minutes I have. There’s no reason to stress over it, not at the moment. I’m having to reluctantly admit to myself that hey, they’re only socks.
It was my cousin’s wedding on Saturday, which was a welcome few days out. I think I’ve made a new friend…
(Mum says I’m not allowed one yet and that I should ask His Nibs first. On reflection, this is probably for the best. Look at that arm, though!)
This has been your “I’m still alive, promise!” broadcast, May 2011.
Eurovision May 12, 2011Posted by Fiona in Uncategorized.
On Tuesday night, I watched the first semi-final of the Eurovision Song Contest.
If you’re in the UK, the concept of doing so is probably a little bit foreign to you: deliberately watching the acts that don’t even make the Eurovision final? On purpose? Without the added temperance of a bottle of wine and Graham Norton (who, it must be remembered, is good but shan’t ever be as good as Sir Terry)? Eurovision, is, after all, something that if British people watch they do it with a sense of superiority. European music is a bit like going back in time. Don’t forget: we’re responsible for the Beatles.
I’m a bit of a Europhile in general: I think being part of the European Union is a great thing for the UK and the single market is a phenomenal piece of co-operation, no matter how much I’m currently regretting having to revise for an exam on it. The EU is a fairly left-leaning organisation, and even if I don’t agree with it on everything I think what it’s trying to do is admirable and I utterly refute the idea that it’s trying to make Europe homogenous. I’m perfectly secure in my national identity, thanks.
I would support the UK joining the Euro even though I’m well aware of all of the arguments against it. (The Euro is like religion and tarot cards: the moment some types of people discover you subscribe to it, they suddenly seem to assume you’re a bit simple and just parrot what you’ve been told by People In Positions Of Authority. Remember the Irritating Liberal?) Personally, I think we should have joined the Euro in about 2007, but I can understand why we didn’t. I think the ECJ needs a kick up the proverbial and a beginner’s course on the separation of powers and how to form sentences with fewer than ten clauses, but you can’t have everything.
Unrelated to all of that, though, I love Eurovision. Yes it’s all political, everyone votes for their friends and We Get Saddled With The Cost (did you know this is the first time since the late 90s, I think, that Italy has had a Eurovision entry, and yet it still pays for quite a bit portion along with the Big Four?) but it’s one of those occasions that I love like I love Last Night of the Proms. Last Night of the Proms is great because we get to sing Rule Britannia in our living rooms and feel kind of a little bit proud to be part of this sort of tradition. Eurovision is the same only on a broader scale. As a British person, as someone living in England, I don’t feel like a European very often and I think that’s very sad because that’s a hell of a lot of culture and all round good fun to miss out on. It’s also very different to the kind of music I usually listen to out of choice, and generally hear every day, so that’s kind of refreshing.
On a personal level, I watch Eurovision with people who know a lot about it. They can name the last ten winners. They met the production manager at a trade show two years ago and know what kinds of lighting desk are probably being used. We play spot the techie, marvel at the sprinting abilities of the cameramen, discuss the layout of the green room. (Did you know how they get all the instruments and bits of set and what have you in exactly the right place? Several highly trained stage crews, and lasers from the ceiling. Actual LASERS.)
We get a group of us over, eat dinner together, pile onto the sofa and rank the contestants based on how far they’ll go. Tell each other how much better Spain’s entry was a year ago. Gleefully gang up on the Dutch friend and wonder how on earth Switzerland managed to stay neutral if they present themselves as a nation like that.
This evening is the second semi-final, and we’re doing it again. And that’s why I love Eurovision. It’s idiosyncratic, there’s nothing else quite like it, and its idisyncracies fit quite well with mine.
The Irish entry still need a smack and a darkened room, though.
Going round again May 5, 2011Posted by Fiona in Bwargh, Craftiness, Knitting, University.
It’s that time of year.
I seem to be alternating between being unable to sleep for more than three hours at a stretch, and being out like a light for twelve hours straight. I’m also alternating between subsisting on cous cous and vegetables, and pigging out on bowlfuls of angel delight and bars of Dairy Milk. My mood is swinging about the place too: one minute, I’m feeling like I have to be alone, and the next, I feel very lonely indeed. That last is probably kind of related to the first two. I keep telling myself: this too shall pass.
I don’t really want it to pass, either.
I cast on a sock this afternoon:
The yarn is Juno Fibre Arts Buffy Sock, and the colour is called ‘Seaspray’. This is pretty accurate, but you can’t see the hints of green particularly well. It’s such a subtle colour, I had such fun just winding it.
Unlike my usual plain exam sock – I have a pair of toe-up stocking stitch socks for every exam period for about the last three years – this one’s going to be patterned. I felt like it. It’s going to be Wendy Johnson’s Catnip socks which are everything I like: toe-up, easily customisable, lacy, with a simple repeat so I don’t have to carry the pattern round with me all the time. I’m looking forward to them.
I’ve finished a pair of socks, too, in the last day or so – I’ll try and get pictures of them soon, they’re rather lovely. Again, simple lace. It’s amazing how comforting it can be sometimes.
It’s all hot and cold hereabouts. I hardly know what to do with myself.
Captain Shakespeare and I went to see Bellowhead play last week. They were phenomenal. Quite possibly the best live act I’ve ever seen – the collective energy was amazing, they can work a crowd like nobody’s business but you just got the impression that they were enjoying themselves and just messing about. There was spontaneous bursting into jigs, dramatic lunging with a banjo, and trying to make one of the violinists laugh from across the stage while he was doing a solo – as well as at several points the stealing of Jon Boden’s tambourine, whistle, tiny-drum-slash-wind-noise-thing and misc other small percussion instruments.
I’m sure I’ve said before that some musicians have a song that just resonates with me, that I adore above and beyond anything else they’ve done. Interestingly, that song of Bellowhead’s is one that is very traditional and arranged by a lot of different people. It’s also the first thing I ever heard them play, and it’s fantastic. Therefore I’m foisting it on you. Imagine a theatre full of people bawling their heads off at the words and clapping and stomping along. What an atmosphere.
It’s never all bad.
Three sweaters May 2, 2011Posted by Fiona in Big things, Craftiness, Durham, Knitting, Look what I did.
‘Harvest Moon’ by Heidi Kirrmaier. Wool/alpaca blend DK. Started on Christmas Day, knitted in Brighton and Lincolnshire and Dorset over the Christmas holidays. Grew disconcertingly when blocked so that the bottom of the yoke was around my elbows. Strengthened my resolve to get myself a dress form the moment I have somewhere to put it.
(Get off my) Cloud by Kate Davies. Sock weight wool on 3.5mm needles. (I can’t believe it either.) Cast on at Larmer Tree Festival, Summer 2010 and knitted on constantly for the entire week. Taken to my first Ravelry meet-up. Hood finished over coffee and lunch with the girls in Durham. I-cord edges knitted over two trips from home to university, alternated with a sock so I wouldn’t go out of my mind with the quantity of it.
Worn, finished, for the first time at my second ever Ravelry meet-up.
And this one’s mine. (Wool/angora light fingering. Conceived last summer. Cast on last term. Ripped back, cast on again, ripped back again, cast on again. Finished a few weeks ago. Currently being test knit. More exciting than it looks, but the most interesting detail isn’t visible from this picture. More to come.)
Happening around here April 14, 2011Posted by Fiona in Craftiness, Look what I did, Small things.
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I’ve been home for two and a half weeks now, and it’s been terribly busy. The dissertation second draft got finished today, so I’m absolutely demob-happy: it’s gone to the relevant volunteer for last proofreading and then I’ll bind it up and never look at the damned thing again. (That’s a lie. I’ll spend the next month reading articles and going “Ooh! That’s interesting. I could put that in my- oh no wait.”) As for the moment, however, I keep looking at my bibliography in disbelief.
Otherwise, what has mainly been happening is what usually happens when I get home for a holiday and spend any length of time around my mum: I’ve got a bit craft-happy. On the way home, we stopped at the York Quilt Museum and ever since then I’ve been with ideas. I wanted to do something colourful, where I could see the results and that would make people happy. So I decided to do everything.
First of all, and thank goodness for it, I finished a pair of man-sized socks, which has since been spirited away by my dad (hence lack of photos, they’re too busy being worn!). I’m sure I’ve said before how much respect I have for people who routinely knit man-sized socks. There’s just so much foot to them, and they go so slowly… nevertheless, I feel like my daughterly duty has been done now, and he loves them, so I think all is well on that front. And at least now they’re finished.
Then, I decided to adapt a Purl Soho scarf for Mother’s day, using a heavier linen and quite a lot more hand sewing. (I must never forget to take my sewing machine home again. There is only one possible result and it involves taking three hours to do something that could have taken twenty minutes.)
There was also these:
Peanut butter and Smartie cookies, adapted extensively from a Good Housekeeping recipe I stumbled upon by happy chance, in a How About Orange newspaper gift bag made from the culture pages of the Independent (oh yes, I live in that kind of household. Housemates take note).
There is nothing in this world that makes me feel more of a domestic goddess than baking cookies and putting them in homemade wrapping paper to give as a birthday present. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the height of smugness.
(I’ve no idea why this picture is so bad, but it’s the only one I managed to get of the back of the bag. Total, unadulterated smugness.)
My favourite thing, though, was that I managed to get my hands on the relevant multiple types of pliers, and hooks and beads and what have you to make stitch markers.
I love making things where I’ve got all the different parts from different places. I got the beads in these ones (above) in Sheffield towards the end of term, when I escaped Durham for a bit to see some friends. The friends in question have the measure of me exactly, because we somehow managed to find ourselves in the middle of a shop full of beads, and buttons, and miscellaneous small sparkly things. Now I know how to make stitch markers, I’m determined to go back and seek out some more things to put on them – they’re a perfect little canvas for special trinkets, and these days I know quite enough knitters who won’t complain to receive half a dozen as a birthday present, or really just because.
The beads in these are wooden, and I got them from Duttons in York with my mum on the way back home, about half an hour before we discovered the Quilt Museum. I adore them, they’re so bright. They’re currently on the Great Green Thing I talked about a bit previously – which now has sleeves and has been ripped back a further two or three times in pursuit of same. I’m hoping to have that finished by the beginning of next week.
As for what’s left on my list of things to try…
…Well, it was quilting that started this whole thing off, wasn’t it?
I am revising, I promise.
Breaking things March 16, 2011Posted by Fiona in Big things, Bwargh, Durham, Look what I did, Sheer bloody-mindedness, University.
Notably, internal barriers, my sleep cycle, my ability to function as an adult human being and look after myself and everything and – most excitingly – my record for greatest number of hours spent in the library over a 24 hour period outside of exam term. Record currently stands at thirteen. It can’t get any higher than that because that included opening time (9am) in the law library, two hours’ break for food and a tutorial, and closing time (midnight) in the main library.
It’s been that sort of week.
In a way, I’ve kind of enjoyed it. It’s been good to just be single-minded about work, and just concentrate on one thing for hours at a stretch. In a way, I kind of feel broken. It doesn’t show any signs of stopping, yet, though: the end of term is on Friday. Between now and then I have 300 pages of reading for two tutorials and a 1500 word mini-essay to write. And then on Monday morning I’ll find out how inevitably dreadful my dissertation draft was, and start on another 6000 word essay due the beginning of next term, and try and get my head round starting to revise.
And do some washing. I haven’t done any washing in the last two weeks, and I’m running out of things.
And tidy my room. This is turning into a list now, which is not at all what I meant to say.
I meant to talk about finished things, and how I think I might have started to figure out what I want to do next year, which is great. And a start. I also meant to talk about Captain Shakespeare’s new play, which I saw on Saturday and which was a bloody good evening out though I say so myself.
Also, this is a placeholder. I’m still here! I’m still going! I’ve not fallen off the face of the earth!
And look! It’s my dissertation:
(Clicky clicky to make it bigger, although you can probably tell it’s about Parliamentary Sovereignty, its interaction with the courts, and the Human Rights Act. Soooo unbelievably interesting, and I could wax lyrical about it for ages but I fear I’d bore you.)
I feel quite proud that I’m here and things are still happening. After my essay’s in on Friday, I promise to show you knitwear. I know I’ve been promising for the last two weeks.
Copy-ouch March 8, 2011Posted by Fiona in Craftiness, Law, Sheer bloody-mindedness.
It’s that point in term where my saturation of law is such that I’m blogging about it! This term, commercial contract law. Let’s talk about the terminology of selling things.
This is something that’s come up in copyright discussions all over Ravelry for ever and ever, and it’s irritated me since almost that long. I’m going to talk about it in relation to the law of the sale of goods in England and Wales. I have no idea how similar or different it is in America, or anywhere else in the world, but I will say that the UK has a very well-respected, old legal system and that therefore the rules elsewhere in the world are probably similar-ish, and the terminology is almost certainly more or less the same. I say this because I know it’s true of a lot of criminal law and tort law, and so I assume it’s also true of some of commercial and contract law.
When you sell something, for example a car, according to the law, you’re not selling a car. You’re selling rights with regard to the car, or ‘interests’ in the car: that is, the right to take possession of the car, the right to use it however you like, the right to say who can use it and who can’t, the right to take all the profit if you decide to sell it on. If you sell me the car, what you’re doing is selling me all the interests in the car, and all the interests put together are called ‘property’ in the world of commercial law.
Now, obviously, if what you’re selling to me is the pdf of a knitting pattern, you’re not giving me all the rights to the pattern. I can’t take credit for the pattern, I can’t sell it on as if it were my own. But, under UK commercial law, and the commercial laws of countless other nations, you don’t have to sell me all the interests to the pattern just by taking my £3.50 and sending me a pdf file. What is usually being sold is not the pattern, but a license to use the pattern.
Use of the pattern, you’ll notice, is an interest in the pattern. It is but one interest. Right to reproduce the pattern, that’s another interest. Right to sell the pattern on, that’s another interest too. None of these interests are necessarily inherent in me getting my hands on a copy of your pattern. Those rights belong to the designer automatically, as do all of the rights, because they’re part of the property of the designer. So if I particularly want to reproduce my copy of your pattern, I can only do that if you’ve sold it to me.
The difficulty here arises when designers don’t state in advance, “If you buy this pattern from me, you are buying a license to do x, y, and z. You are not buying a license to do a, b, and c, and you may not do these without my permission.” So a lot of the problem with the law with regard to this comes from the question, what rights do we assume the ‘standard’ license to contain? In other words, if it’s not made explicit in a contract, what can we imply are the license’s terms? Everyone has different views on this, and I’m not going to offer mine because I’m scared the Copywrong Police will come and eat my brains.
The other thing that comes up and annoys me is the speed of people to say that they don’t need to honour license agreements, even informal or implied ones, because if it got to court it wouldn’t be upheld.
You’ll notice the enforcement of licenses of knitting patterns is not a hot topic in the legal world right about now, and that is because they basically never get as far as court. You can say that this is because knitters and crocheters are all lovely and like keeping their goodwill and all that, but the fact is that out of all contracts, very, very few get as far as the courts. That’s because contract law is not about who would win in front of a judge. Contract law is about making people feel more confident about entering into agreements, so that more agreements are made, and things get done. It’s also largely about creating avenues that the parties can go down to sort their disputes out without having to go up in front of an elderly man in a silly wig and talk about how someone stole their instructions for a scarf. Just because something might not necessarily be enforceable in court – and I’ve no idea if these things would be, this is a flight of conjecture already – that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Equally it doesn’t mean that contract law isn’t working with regard to it, and it doesn’t mean nobody is bound by anything. Being bound does not equal having a remedy. The law still sets a fair bit of store by good faith: it’s still a principle of the courts in the UK at least that you’ll do better if you approach the court with clean hands.
I think that’s about right, anyway.
If you’re on Ravelry, you’ll see that I’ve taken lots of pictures of jumpers and things. Prepare to be bombarded with them here in the next day or two.
Also, Lent starts tomorrow. I’m giving up buying yarn and casting on new things, with the two parameters that the second in a pair of socks doesn’t count as a new thing, nor does it if I rip something back and completely start the same item again. I’m looking forward to getting a few things finished.
Coming up for air March 7, 2011Posted by Fiona in Big things, Breaking the fourth wall, Craftiness, Durham, Knitting, Law, Sheer bloody-mindedness, University.
Well, phew, frankly.
The first draft of my dissertation was handed in about 11 o’clock at night on Friday, which was the deadline. In the last week, I’ve seen closing time in two different libraries, and opening time in one of them. I haven’t really had much of a week, frankly – it all seemed to disappear in front of a computer screen. I’ve slept twelve hours the last two nights, so that should tell you something. The paper is mammoth, though – twenty-five pages plus bibliography. Aside from NaNoWriMo, I’ve never written anything that big in my life. It’s kind of a big deal. I keep rolling the words undergraduate dissertation around in my head, and they don’t sound any less grand than they did this time two years ago. Grief.
Anyway, it’s onwards and upwards – I have another essay due in ten days, and there’s no rest for the wicked, so that’s where this week is going. But you don’t want to hear about that, do you? You want to see this lovely finished thing:
(Please excuse both the state of my room and the crappiness of the picture – I’m hoping to press-gang the relevant parties into helping me take proper photos tomorrow. You will also note that my house was furnished by the Sprawling Mass of Bureaucracy that is one of the University departments, and hence my bedroom mirror is in three parts. Also, I have a pretty awesome poster on my wall. You may blame aforementioned Sprawling Mass of Bureaucracy that it appears to be split in two.)
This is SOMETHING I FINISHED!! I actually have two knitted tops that I’ve finished in about the last six weeks – not because I’ve been knitting so fast my hands are on fire, but because I am a lazy sod who hates sewing things up, so when I do sew things up, it tends to be all in one go.
I started (Get Off My) Cloud (Rav link) by Kate Davies over the summer, if you recall, and it’s involved so much Icord, and so much sewing up, that I finished the main body of it in maybe November, and the hood in December, and I’ve just failed to do anything with it since. It’s all done now, though, and I wore it to London to meet knitters last weekend and was met with a lot of pointing and “I know what that is!” and compliments, so it definitely feels done. There’ll be pictures, as soon as I can get someone to take them
The cardigan in the picture is Harvest Moon (Rav link) by Heidi Kirrmaier. I started it on Christmas Day to make up for all that knitting for everyone else, and it waited for about a month for me to sew the pockets on, and another month for me to block it. And I adore it. And it’s alpaca so it’s the warmest thing in the world. And it sheds cream coloured alpaca all over my black brushed wool coat. If it didn’t do that, I’d never take it off.
What I’m knitting at the moment, then, is quite mysterious. I’ve had this on the go for a few weeks:
Why yes, it is a Great Green Thing, and getting greater by the day. Not so much lately, that’s a lot of stocking stitch, and I tend to need to alternate between it and something a bit more exciting. The exciting things have been socks, essentially: I’m one down on a pair for Dad, whose birthday is at the end of the month, and I’ve just cast on another pair with this:
I love this yarn very, very much. It came on Friday, the day I handed my draft in, and my reward for finishing said draft was to cast on the Sock Knitters Anonymous group on Ravelry’s March Mystery Sock. The theme for this month is lace, and the mystery sock is gorgeous. I finished the first clue today, and it reminded me how much I love just blindly following patterns occasionally. You don’t have to worry about how it’s going to turn out, you don’t have to keep in mind what amendments you might want to make, you can just take the instructions and run with them. It makes me happy.
The yarn is Juno Fibre Arts Buffy Sock, and it’s a superwash BFL, and I love it. I haven’t knit with Blue Faced Leicester in far too long – I’d forgotten how much it practically glows. This stuff is so much fun to work with.
So that’s what’s happening knitting-wise at the moment, for the most part.
As for the rest of this blog, I’m afraid you’re rather going to have to bear with me at the moment. You’ve probably noticed it’s been a bit thin on the ground, of late. This year is not an easy year, it’s my final year as an undergraduate, and at the moment I feel a bit like I’m treading water. Of course I’ll do my best to keep going – I love this blog, and when I’m able to do things with it, I love it and I love hearing your feedback and comments. But if they’re sparse for the next four or five months, please do hang on. Normal service will be resumed when I’m not up to my ears in the All England Law Reports and for now, well, I like you lot. So I hope you’ll hang around.
On diaries February 19, 2011Posted by Fiona in Breaking the fourth wall, Bwargh, Small things.
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
‘Not Waving but Drowning’, by Stevie Smith. Copied from my diary while I was doing my A-levels, Tuesday 13th November 2007.
I wrote a diary from shortly after my thirteenth birthday all the way through to just before I went to university. At that point, I was thinking too much and didn’t have time to go and write it all down and think about it. I tried again last year, and lasted about a month – the style that I used to use didn’t really suit any more. I used to write the date at the top, and set it out like a letter, and write down the time I started writing whenever I did, and sign off with my full name. I’d like to go back to writing again, because it helped, and it helped me keep things to myself, and I think it made me a bit of a better person or at least a more self-aware one.
Other things have happened, and they’re great and I’ve really enjoyed them – and I’ll try and post about them soon, but I just needed to get this one out.
So what do you do, when you feel a bit like you’re not waving right now?