6.1 ~Nostalgia special bonus edition ~
Returning to a formative place for you is like remembering a dream in too much detail.
Like, the mind usually blurs this for a reason science can’t yet explain (like how science can’t explain vibes. My friend James said philosophy can and recommended Heidegger. But then again, Heidegger was a Nazi which is a Bad Vibe).
It probably was a bit on the nose that we were staying in a nostalgia-themed apartment in The House of Trembling Madness.
Before going, I watched a campus tour and four hours of someone walking around York city centre before going, like exposure therapy, so I wouldn’t cry when we were trying to have a nice time.
Sometimes the things we do to care for our mental health make us sound more unwell.
York reminded me I never really get crunk anymore.
I mean I still like to drink excessively every now and again (when I drink I do it right, getting slizzard) but crunk is it’s own thing.
It’s good cause now I rarely wake up sure everyone I’ve ever encountered fucking hates me.
Maybe it was my mental state at the time or maybe it was that we always went to Evil Eye and drank a Shed 7 which is 7 rums and shot of something else for fun.
Often they wouldn’t serve Jess because they thought it was too much alcohol for her slim frame. It’s nice to be affirmed for conforming to a beauty ideal while being rejected.
They wouldn’t give it to me because my boobs are too perfect.
No they always served me. I’d order two and give one to Jess.
On Sunday I had an emotional hangover from the memories and crucially, the absinthe (surprise, the green fairy is the magic 8th measure).
I did cry eventually, it hit me on campus and I couldn’t understand why. Alex said “time has passed and it matters baby”.
You know when you don't understand something but it makes complete sense.
Chelsea H did a lot of the planning as she was there for her masters, as it was my undergrad my biggest landmark was Topshop.
I did choose Ask Italia for dinner one night as it's in the beautiful and historic Grand Assembly Rooms. It's a shame a nicer restaurant couldn't rent it instead.
Yesterday when we came back to the future I came second in a national online comedy of the year competition because of my pioneering use of the medium. Basically I used some quite-something live-video-editing, prompting one angered watcher to say “I’m sorry, I work in tech and this makes no sense”.
I think she should have said now that’s PC gone mad!
I was in such a bad place beforehand, in the Big Sad. I said I wish I had Bernard’s watch. If I could stop time I would use it to pause and be able to cry until I could get back to the task at hand.
I now understand why it was him as a plucky kid with a supportive nuclear family and not an adult with a history of shaky mental health. In that version it’d just be a colleague saying “can you get back to me on this today?” as Bernard presses the stop watch and sobs.
What’s harder the past, the future or the present? I thought as I lay next to a lava lamp and an atari, preparing an instagram post.
I love my friends.
I hope you're doing okay.
Here's a set I did in the heat of the competition, warning for lots of swearing the highest form of wit: