from the people who brought you stalin: (earlwyn) wrote,
from the people who brought you stalin:
earlwyn

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Wesołych Świąt!

Belated holiday greetings, f'list! I hope you had (and continue to have, if you are holidaying as I still am) a lovely time of it.

IIIII haven't said anything in a really long time. Whoops. (I know you are totally looking at your screen right now, if you didn't just bypass this post entirely, with a puzzled frown of, "Who are you again?" Or you are sitting there in the deep dregs of concentration, sipping your drink, trying to be a good f'lister and remember the last I wrote about in order to place my life in context. Yeah; you can stop wracking your brain. The last thing I wrote about -- ha-ha! four months ago -- is that I was moving to London the next day.)

SO THEN I DID THAT. And yeah! London. Man. What can I say about London? I have been enjoying my time there, minus a few little scraps and bumps indelible to the whole moving-country process. London is good. London, on the whole, is very London-ish. Which pleases me! Does what it says on the tin and all that. (You see, this is why I never update. I honestly have no idea how to sum up the whole experience of moving -- which is HUGE and LIFE CHANGING and BIZARRE for me -- so I either have to tell the whole saga of it or else wind up relying on phrases like, "And so then some stuff happened, and then some more stuff, and then I met Mark Gatiss and made him sign some stuff and talked to him about Worst Journey, and lo, my life was complete. :D")

So it's up to you, f'list! Are you satisfied with that as an account of how I've spent my time the last four months? Or do you want the whole shootin'-match, replete with comments about Mark Gatiss's sexy, sexy in-person wrist bones and my dramatic return to life as a uni student and my epic battles with British electricity and my relationship with my upstairs neighbour developed solely around what I think he must be doing to create the Strange, Strange Noises (and Sometimes Smells) echoing through the ceiling? (By the way, I totally still think there should be a comic about him, entitled The Imaginary Adventures of Upstairs Neighbour, Flat 3.) Vote in the poll! Because polls are fun.


Poll #1661173 London! So!

Wanna hear some more?

yes! Tell us more!*
4(66.7%)
no! I've had enough of your twaddle!†
0(0.0%)
secret third option! I only want to hear about Gatiss!‡
2(33.3%)


The best pseudo-summation of Life in London I can give right is that: (a) my telly antenna is the most pernickety thing in the universe and frequently requires the cable to be moved in odd angles all over the places, usually ending up held above my head with arms stretched out and slightly to the left, in order to pick up reception; (b) I get told in London, as well as told here, that my accent shifts at ridiculous times, though I can't hear a difference; (c) my favourite part of the day is the forty-minutes I spend riding the tube home from uni because it is the only time I know I get to sit for a reasonable period of quiet and read my book; (d) I have come to fear central London on Saturday afternoons and loathe all tourists. I am now ashamed I ever was one. Sorry, tourists!

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT. Really the point of this post was so I could talk about Yuletide! (Fuck yeah yuletide!) And rec you things! And picspam! But now I'm afraid it's gotten too long, or really, now I'm afraid I've grown bored of writing out actualfax sentences. So I'm-a close here and talk about yuletide later.

Hiii, f'list! Hi! I hope you are well. ♥


---
*I retain no obligation to follow through on this.
Do you follow me on Twitter? 'Cause that's probably why. :|
He is so pretteh~. And tallllll. I have pictures!
Tags: gqmf: mark gatiss, the saga of: a yank in king arthur's uni
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