Hello i'm drunk and my life is going nowhere

So I'm back in Manchester now being absolutely literally a student, yah. And while it's hard to be thoughtful and profound amongst the unmemorable drunken antics and refresher's flu, my god I've DONE IT, dear readers (perhaps the plural is optimistic at this stage but it's worth a hope).

I was out taking part in said drunken antics one night last week, when a friend and I lost the group, and ended up sitting and talking for a while. Somehow, and the links to this conversation have been deleted so completely in my memory that I can only imagine the elaborate pathway of dialogue which occurred, things got kind of deep. We ended up chatting about the impermanency of life, the inconsistency of opportunity and the valuable time we are inevitably wasting at this ridiculous stage of our lives. It didn't make me feel good. He, however, an actor, seemed full of promise. Plans for auditions and projects and ideas about what he hoped to achieve. I sat nodding with a stony expression. While I was pleased he had found this sense of direction and admirable optimism regarding his future career, I felt at the same time overwhelming urgency: what am I going to do? When should I start doing this? Where am I going to do it? And more than anything, how can I be good enough at it and will I ever be content with it? I truly felt like the only satisfactory option at that point in time was to get up, put my life-threateningly high yet undeniably beautiful stilettos back on, go home, and start fulfilling my completely vague life's plans before it became too late. 

It's just not reasonable though. I guess this part of life is not ridiculous; no part should be. I have actually found some comfort in thinking of these years as a kind of limbo- a transitionary stage which should be lived, cherished, and remembered, but maybe not taken so seriously. It's pointless planning meticulously for a long future which is never going to be guaranteed. A sense of direction is something to strive for, but under no circumstances something to settle for too soon with an uncertain mind. I'll keep looking for my direction. I think I might just stick to doing so sober from now on, though.

Ryan Adams, One Tree Hill and other East-coast promises.

Hello again! It's a beautiful sunny Thursday morning and I feel well rested and refreshed enough to finally write all about something that's been on my mind for, well in total, about a year now. Going to university abroad. A scary thought- maybe not in the grand scheme of things but definitely, at least, from a neurotic and fairly sheltered nineteen year-old point of view. So i'm still in the hazy midst of my application to study in the US: albeit only for second semester of this academic year, about 5 months in total. This ridiculous process of application began last October and is still far from being completed... wait, in fact thinking about it, the application will actually in total probably take three times as long as will my actual stay in the U.S. Goodness me.

But what I've really been thinking about the past couple of weeks began with how I chose which university to apply to. The thing is, because the preliminary papers were due so early on in my first year at Manchester- at which point I admit I wasn't fully sure I wanted to go or would even get in- I think I maybe didn't take choosing a place as seriously as I should have. However I did have a fairly good go at it, and after eliminating all the states which my very helpful New York born mother described as being 'dull and empty' (which, compared to her bustling native land, included most, if not all of my options), I was left with North Carolina and New Jersey. The New Jersey option, Rutgers, however, was full. So my decision was made for me, and after having wikipedia'd and googled for hours at a time, I think now I have a pretty good idea of the beautiful Southern East-coast state. Aside from the breathtaking scenery and rife Southern state music and culture (okay I'll stop, this is definitely sounding like a cringey travel ad), there are also a lot of interesting exports from NC which have been brought to my attention of late. And here lies the point of this post. Now i'm not American enough (yet) to consider it a sign that so much of my favourite music came out of this place that I hadn't even heard of until last year, but I'm not about to ignore it either... let me explain.

Ryan Adams. Recently I have been listening to him a lot, mostly his stunning solo album 'Gold' which is absolutely incredible. Read about it here and if it sounds like your cup of tea, buy it. It'll change your life. Right now I'm listening to the beautiful 'La Cienega Just Smiled'. So anyway, feeling like I really connected with some of his lyrics (awful adolescent comment there- sorry, had to be done), I used my good friend Wikipedia to find out more about his stuff. And where, do I discover, is he from, and began his career? North Carolina.

Another example of this clear 'meant to be' connection (my own words, I'm not embarrassed) between NC and myself I noticed while walking home the other day, through the sun, to an old folk song I'd heard at a festival several years ago and searched for online everywhere until I found a version recorded by Old Crow Medicine Show. Originally it was a Bob Dylan song but apparently he never got round to recording it. This song is just one of those that kind of means a lot, that you associate with great memories- in my case of a carfree youthful summer spent with friends at festivals. Anyway I must have listened to the song a thousand times but never really paid attention to the lyrics. Until this lazy walk home when my lovely little ipod's volume button got stuck and the blast in my ears suddenly made me aware of the line, 'And if I die in Raleigh at least I will die free'. 'Raleigh': the capital of North Carolina, where I will be living if my application is successful. The song is in fact all about hitch-hiking down to North Carolina and leaving the pressures of cold New England: 'Headed down south to the land of the pines/ And i'm thumbin' my way to North Caroline'. Coincidence?

During my very informative little conversations with Wikipedia I also learnt that musical legends and personal ipod regulars of mine such as John Coltrane, James Taylor, Mitch Easter, Ben Folds Five, Loudon Wainwright and of course one of my absolute favourites, Tori Amos, also grew up and started out on the North Carolinian music scene. These are pretty impressive names for what is usually considered a 'small town' in comparison to the rest of the east coast. 

Aside from providing the world with such internationally renowned musicians, there seems to be a trend of setting fresh-faced romantic teen dramas amidst the green beauty of the state, including 'Dawson's Creek' and 'One Tree Hill'. The latter, to which I am completely addicted. And before you feel the tone dampened by that last revelation, anyone who likes a bit of American teen drama and dry humour interlaced with ever-so-slightly obvious symbolism that makes you feel clever as well as touched when you 'get it' has to agree that it is the best of the best. I know right. But anyway it's set in NC. Which I am more than happy about.

So what's my point, you ask? You may be thinking it's proportionally inevitable that any number of influential figures will have come out of any given area. Which may be true. But actually what I really seem to have learnt through my little Wikipedia adventure is that practically everyone who is from, or has even spent time in this particular state seems to be proud; to want to sing about it, actually. Whether that is a result of the moral nature of its history (N.C being the last and most reluctant state to secede to the Confederacy), or the inspirational surroundings, or just general American patriotism, this fact is probably the most revealing I could have asked for. So I'm sold. Here's to hoping I return to England with this same North Carolinian artistic vision- the one that seems to be about as rare in the beautiful south-east as bibles, basketball, and southern charm.

My life as an Illiterate Academic

Today I received an email from the University of Manchester, attached to which was the required reading list for the 2010 second year English Literature and American studies course 'American Literature and Social Criticism': basically, the subject on which I have worryingly managed to base my academic future around. 

Taking this into account, you might imagine that I would be quite enthusiastic, or at the very least vaguely inclined, to look through the list and make a geeky englishy start, as is characteristic of most of my classmates- maybe form some opinions, do some background reading, the usual. But this was not the case. I am sad to say that instead, I have a dirty, disgusting confession to make, one which I have only just managed to admit to myself but can barely conceal any longer.

I'm not really into reading.

The fact that I could finally recognise this unfortunate flaw in my character really began to make me think. Where was it along the line, presumedly somewhere between reading Wuthering Heights 'just for funsies' circa summer of Year 9, and dissecting the social context of 'Frankenstein' for six long, hot, stuffy weeks at the end of my first year at university, that I lost the ability to read and write? No less, after studying within an inch of my sanity for A level exams, to ensure the two A's and a B necessary to study literature at a higher educational institution; how could I have been so wrong in judging my own character and interests?

A phase, my well-meaning mother says. Lack of maturity, say others, and this is very possible. It may even be down to, as I sometimes suspect, a deeply rooted resentment for the fact that an educational degree is actually necessary nowadays when i'd much rather be out singing in bars, gigging happily and mindlessly tree hugging on weekends, imagining myself like Joni Micthell in her heyday. But ultimately, I know there is really no excuse for burying oneself thousands upon thousands of pounds in debt to pursue an interest- when the interest was nothing more than the imaginative illusion created by public schools and pushy parents.

This blog is therefore a reaction to the illiterate monster I have become. An outlet for the creativity that is so contradictorily stifled in an 'Arts degree'. And hopefully, a helpline to all those out there whose direction in life is completely and utterly directionless.

To all the uninspired artists, and anyone who is lost or lazy.