The Personals

So I find myself once again wondering what it is that i am missing out on. I won't bore you with details. To sum it up, I’m lonely, in more ways then one. My course is going great, although instead of writing this, I should really be learning some shorthand, or finding an interview for Dan. Oh well. Meant to be going out tomorrow as well! Joy. Uni life is great, to a point. As I said, love my course, met some ace people, but there are hitches, as always.... I think I need to take a step back and just let things happen, but it’s hard. Anyway, enough random teenage rambling, time to get serious. It’s what I’m meant to do, right?

Memoirs of an old geeser

Bob Lopton’s earliest memory is travelling into Preston on a tram in 1935, aged 3, and seeing the town’s first traffic jam.
Preston was luckier then most towns during war. The only difficulty that faced Bob whilst growing up was living with his five siblings. There was only his mother to support them, as his Father had died years earlier.
Bob would spend a lot of his time playing football with his mates, “bending it like Beckham before Beckham was even born”.
Bob’s family never had much money, but he still grew up and made a living for himself as a Printing Press manufacturer, a career that lasted him his entire working life. He also found himself a wife, and had a son and a daughter. The boy has gone into the same profession as he did.
Even though Bob retired 12 years ago, his later life has been dotted with tragedy. His eldest Brother died in a car crash in 1992, and his wife died in 2003. Sadly, his wife’s Brother also died that exact same day, after a major operation. Regardless, Bob persevered and has been enjoying his retirement since.
When asked what he liked to do with his time, “as little as possible”, was the reply. This includes taking walks along the sea front with friends, and visiting places like Bournemouth.
As a piece of advice before he left, Bob warned me against the dangers of smoking – mainly because it costs so much, but also you might, well, die. His wife had smoked, he hadn’t.

By Joe Robinson

A Life in the Day of....

19-year-old Joe Robinson had always enjoyed his life as a student, despite his problem of actually getting up. If not sat in front of a computer writing essays, chatting on MSN, or fighting barbarians, Joe would also be found in the common room reading a book, or 'philosophising' with his friends. Joe is currently studying for a Journalism Degree at Bournemouth University.

I’m not really a “morning” person, never was. I would get woken up by my alarm, have a few blissful seconds before I realised what was going on, and then fall back asleep to the echoes of “5 more minutes”. It would then be half an hour later and I would be running late - crap. So, amidst cursing God and my alarm for not doing anything, I would speed-dress myself, grab my bag and be out of the door before you could do the Macarena.
The walk to school would always be pleasant. It would just be me, my music, and the path. Walking is one of the few things that I actually like doing alone; the solitude can be very relaxing, even if the scenery is just the borough you live in. I keep a brisk pace, since I dislike hanging around if I’m going from A to B, so 20 minutes later I would find myself striding through the gates of school, forming an apology to my tutor for being late. It’s the space-time continuum miss, honest.
School itself was always good, and I worked hard when need be. I’ve always liked school. The learning part anyway, socially I was mainly a bit of a misfit, often bullied in what I refer to as the “black years”, and still a bit weary of people by the time I hit sixth form, but I found good friends. I really enjoyed my subjects in sixth form; Philosophy was one of my favourites. Arguing back and forth on a point could be fun, especially if you pissed of a particular classmate in the process. We would always have the best arguments.
First break would be at 11:15, so straight down to the near-by garage for a sausage bap, The Guardian, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper, what’s the worst that could happen? Back in the day we would normally organise football matches in our breaks, but then they shortened them, so instead we spent our time up in the common room, relaxing, conversing, and loosely acting like the adults we were expected to be.
In my final year of 6th form, I only had about 2/3 lessons a day tops, so that would mean free periods. Usually I would spend these in the common room, reading a book, unless I had work to do. I love reading, always have. It’s the stories. I love the way they’re told, the way they’re written, the way the author tries to connect with the readers, and the big battle scene at the end.
When school was over I would walk home, sometimes with a friend who lives on the way, sometimes not, either way I would soon find myself back home. Once through the door, I would always surgically implant myself in front of my PC, and not move until it was dinner - I liked my PC. I play my favourite computer games on the PC. My PC is also an essential link to what I call my ‘Social life’, spelt M.S.N. MSN is great, without it I wouldn’t be able to talk to the people I had seen only hours before, or the people who I don’t often get to see. At some point my family would come home, and provided I wasn’t engrossed in defeating a barbarian horde on the shores of Asia Minor, they would get a short grunt by way of hello, and then that would generally be it until we met at dinner.
Usually we would just eat the food where we like, or in the front room watching TV, but sometimes my mum would use the big table in the dining room, where we would sit, eat, talk about our respective days, and so on. I love my family; I probably wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for them. After dinner it would be back to the hordes, unless I got bored, then it would be MSN until I went to bed. At some point I might try to do some work, but it rarely went well, I get distracted too easily. I’m a bit of a ‘last-minute’ kind of guy anyway.
I would generally try to be in bed by about 11, since I would have had school or work the next day, although half an hours reading was always a tradition. The morning would bring a new day, which I would vaguely acknowledge as I rushed out the door, late again.

‘I would get woken up by my alarm, have a few blissful seconds before I realised what was going on, and then fall back asleep to the echoes of “5 more minutes”.’

In the beginning...

... God created the universe. Now this made a lot of people very angry, and was generally considered a bad idea. Unfortunately, not being able to do anything about it, the people had to move on, and tried to make themselves feel better by debating about whether God existed or not anyway. Somewhere along the line, I created this blog. This had nothing to do with the God/no-God debate, but it made me feel better.
So here I am, don't know what I’m going to write, or why, when, where, or even how, but write I shall. Comment on it, discuss it, knock one off over it, whatever, and just keep it constructive and civil. Don’t make me come over there.