Vale, Campus

So here it is, the inevitable end-of-the-year-teary-eyed-remembrance. What? I cried? Haha, you bet I did. There'll be more tears as well, when I find the time to actually be upset. See, the worst thing isn't everyone else going, which is really very bad indeed, I mean what the hell, but instead the knowledge that you are the one who isn't coming back. Payback's a bitch.

The point is, I have managed to successfully complete a Bachelor of Arts Degree in the study of Music at the University of East Anglia, Norwich. Read it again, I mean, I had to several times in order to understand that I did it for myself all by myself...or did I? It hasn't always been a singular effort, and it's been squarely down to the involvement of individuals rather than organisations that have made the difference. Individuals represented by the choral scholars and the Organist of St. Peter Mancroft. Individuals represented by my immediate neighbours for this year in Nelson Court, various members of Colman House, and almost everyone I met in the last two weeks of term. What? Stick with me. I've met a range of people, a veritable cast of characters. I too have taken my place on the stage, calling roles from the Elder Statesman to Wicked Drunk and everything inbetween.

I look back on what I wrote when the year started, and see a man who feels unable to fit in with the depth of the responsibility when surrounded by the first flush of innocent Freshman youth. We all know the deal, right? A number of young persons seeking to quench their thirst for education are all bunged in together without having ever met in person before, and are expected to deal with it. And then sometimes there are old fogeys like me. I look now and am more pleased with my, er, general pattern. Aside from the usual gripes, I've been a lot happier on the whole. My direction is more positive, and I'm rather proud of myself thank you very much.

I do, however, still have a problem with living away from home, in as much as I bring too much with me. How much is too much? Right now, I genuinely fear that we won't be able to fit it all in the car. I brought four suits, including a hand made tuxedo, enough shirts to sink a dinner party, Jackets, Waistcoats, bows, ties and now also cravats. I effectively had enough to never ever wear the same thing twice. I brought seven musical instruments with me, notwithstanding my dulcet tones, and have more music now than I even realised I could amass.

Hiatus

So, that was 10 days ago. Since then, I've been to Truro and back to Norwich, drank copiously, pushed the strength of my digestion and other characteristic behaviours. I've been redrafting this as and when I had the chance, but writing in the Forum Library wasn't really my cup of tea, and I certainly didn't have the world's greatest amount of Internet access where I was staying. I wept for hours when they all went. I made my promises to come back, that I can and will keep. I gave my heart away, and to the right person; someone I can trust. I was going to give it to that Contralto, but the Waltzer cares for it instead. I have enough people who want to see me that when I go for a week I won't have to stay in the same place twice, in fact almost a fortnight's worth! I am very lucky.

Turns out that there really wasn't room for me to fit in the car, such was the grand collection. Everything came back with us except for a small chair on wheels, that has served me well over the past three years. There was simply no room for it! All the rest went home with mother dear while I tarried at Park Lane, NR2 for a little while, in which time I successfully auditioned for the position of Counter-tenor Choral Scholar ar the Cathedral Church of St. Mary, Truro despite suffering from Hayfever, Cat allergies and an horrific cold. Not a bad job eh? All in a day's work.

My tenure at Mancroft ended similarly to how it began, with a less than humane treatment from Madam Director. Oh well! I suppose it was always going to be that way. It appears that our professional differences will always remain, and hopefully I shan't suffer the like in my new Cornish appointment. Everything wrapped up at Spamcroft, really. Inevitable answers became apparent, and all's well that ends well...or something.

This is tough. I'm typing without a direction because I'm just so bloody upset about leaving Norwich. I'm tired of saying "I'm upset" and people replying 'Oh but think about that you're going up in the world and moving on!' Just shut up. I'd like to be sad for a while before realising the truth that yes, I am moving up and moving on. It's fine, I understand. I'll be back in a month for the graduation, and then I'll be back...well, whenever! I'd like to say that I'll always be back, but I might not be able to. I will return though, because I bloody well say so. Capisce?

So much more Drama

I've been trying to write a proper post for about a fortnight now. It's been surprisingly difficult, what with glorious victory on one side and abject failure on the other; pretty much like every day, right? Hah. It's getting tough now, as people are leaving the flat and I, of course, make my preparations to leave Norwich for pastures new. I can't even begin to articulate just how upset I am! Syllables cannot express my deep and powerful sorrow. I'm welling up even thinking about it.

This has been spurred on by my brother's latest effort. You too can find him, writing semiregularly by following the Fit To Practice link on the left hand side of my page. To be completely fair, this is going to be a lot more melodramatic than his, but whatever. That's the way it is.

This is going to be a rant about life, love, and the poor end of the stall.

My life continues! I have not died. Good show, old chap. I'm slowly but surely beginning to tell people about last year's suicidal tendencies, and not just as a shock tactic either. People don't know for a reason, but you know especially if some wag decides to mention killing themselves for the attention, it's nice to get a little context in. Not to mention the fact that a friend decided to take his own life not long ago. Committing Suicide is a very brave decision, actually, just like committing to anything else life changing. But it's just a brave to turn it down. Perhaps it was my mistake with the way everything went last year to have kept so quiet, but I did what I did because that is what I do. I don't bother you with my problems, instead I took to writing them up and posting them on the Internet which is what I'm doing right now. Writing about writing HOW META.

The last two weeks haven't been great though. One of my admittedly self-proclaimed best friends has taken to treating me like a poor acquaintance. Seriously, it's like I hardly know the man! There's been nothing particularly drastic, but put it this way, I haven't been out for curry since I got back from Exeter, he doesn't look me in the eye, and the handshake is now wetter than a piss sandwich. Allegedly, he is very upset because I'm going. Funny, but don't I get to be upset as well? Yes, I'm going for auditions and moving up in the world, but seriously come on! As if my departure to another city is going to effectively end a close friendship? Ridiculous. Friends come and go though, as I know as much as anyone, so perhaps things would have broken down, but there's no need to pre-empt, right? When a man goes from being your best friend, having been a tower of support in days past, with a solid track record of priceless banter to someone who doesn't even recognise you in the street? Fuck off.

Sigh. My end of the stall continues to be poor though, so don't worry! Everything is as consistent as ever. Basically, it's not a sunday service unless I get 'the hand' at least once. This hand is attached to and operated by the Music Director of the Church of St. Peter Mancroft, Norwich, where I have been for the past two very long years. There's nothing less gratifying than being told to pipe down week in week out, which is where half o the trouble last year came from anyway. But, I'm not overly bothered anymore. I haven't been for a while, because it's bordering on hilarious, having passed funny several weeks ago. We on the line, especially if I'm in a mood to cause some damage, can absolutely bank on me getting the hand. Not only are my top notes as strong as ever, they're getting stronger and I'm learning to carry this down into my full range. Even now when I decide to let rip, there's nothing anyone can really do about it. If I carry on to the stage, where I really want to be, there'll be no stopping me. Ho ho.

So. We've had my life. We've had the poor end of the stall. What's coming up next? You can have a prize if you guess. The prize is you get more to read, and even if you don't guess or guess wrong, I'll keep on writing anyway so you're not left out.

Things have been...how do I say...odd. I went all out and asked some ladies out that I had wanted to all year, when it boiled down to it...and they both cancelled on me. Haha no jokes, actual true story bro. So I asked one girl out a week ahead of time, and then she cancelled two days before we were supposed to go out, gave a tentative reschedule, and then cancelled that too. That was the start of the week. At the end of the week I was meant to be taking a girl down to the Playhouse Bar...eh, cancellation on the night. The actual situation is hella complicated, but involves me not being the right guy. As someone who finds it difficult to socialise and go out, even I was shocked. However, this is the way that you normal people get by, isn't it? Sometimes you just ask the wrong people and it ends this way. However. I am leaving my regrets well behind me now. I am no longer upset about it, because damn it I tipped the scales and asked, and I made my intentions clear enough, at least I would have hoped so? Here is a tip though, if I ask you to come to the Playhouse with me, ladies, it's because I really fancy you, and possibly even wouldn't mind taking you home with me. Basically. If I wasn't attracted to you, I wouldn't bother asking you out in the first place, let alone taking you to basically my favourite bar in the City. Right? Anyway.

Last night I went to the AMS Summer Swing Ball. Let's get this straight guys, I had the best time. I made some new friends, drank a hell of a lot, and danced with some of the most beautiful girls I have ever laid my eyes on. It may please you to know that I behaved myself, and was involved in no fights at all. I did dance with some people I would have loved to have been involved with though. The moment worth holding on to, for me, came at about one o'clock in the morning, as I took to the floor with the actual dictionary definition of beauty. Being the end of the night, and the end of the band's session, it was a swanky slow number. We danced hand in hand, leg in leg and cheek to cheek. I don't really know how to proceed with this bit, because it was all a bit ineffable really. For me, it was one of 'those' moments. She squared the circle: my whole world stopped and didn't start again until we let go, by which point I had discovered that my braces had come loose (you know you've had a good time) and I was shaking when I went to reassume my place at the table. She touched me in a way I can't begin to comprehend.
I lost her at the end of the night, basically. Not even a goodnight kiss for our eponymous hero, unfortunately. Tcham! Tush and tcham. I'm not actually that bothered though? I didn't get her number, or end up going home with her, and I'm not bothered. I have accepted that I'm pretty much a romantic failure. Basically! See, I had a wonderful time dancing with all the girls I did so with last night, and what need do I have to ruin it by clumsily propositioning them? That's right friend, I have no need.

Look at that. I managed to avoid getting too upset. Not for long though, as now it's only a matter of days until the end of this year. Joanna will leave on Thursday, and Georgia on Sunday. To put it bluntly, I have no idea how I'm going to deal with not having my flat living with me next year. I'll cope, because that is my business, but how I will go about it is another matter entirely. Adam's already gone! People are leaving for their summer, and then it'll just be my fellow spam scholars left. And then I'll go. And that'll be it for a long time. And that makes me so painfully sad.

Vignette XXI

So let's get this straight.

You went out to a formal Ball.

You danced with some absolute stunners.

You didn't get their numbers.

You didn't take them home.

You didn't even get a goodnight kiss.

And I'm not even bothered.

I had a brilliant time. And that, at the end of the day, is all that matters.

Although to be fair, I don't think I've ever danced like that ever before. She made me feel like it was just us on the floor.

If this is the beginning of the Valediction, then it is a most eloquent and fitting send off.