St. Andrews -the nauseating smell of nostalgia-
Sometimes it felt like my feet was stuck in chewing gum. At other times I was floating and I could see myself just above that tree outside the Union on Market Street . When the wind blew from the North Sea I could feel the chill down to the marrow of my bones. Medieval buildings in grey stone, black cobbled streets, red gowns. There was a white pebbled cross outside St. Salvator's Quad marking the spot where Patrick Hamilton was burnt at the stake during the Scottish reformation. St. Salvators' chapel in the background - a gothic monstrosity shrouded in a green light.They suffocate at nights. If you step on the cross you will fail your degree, people said.
2001-Swings by the pier in the green green grass - we used to run on the tarmac and sing Pulp songs ('First you let him in your bed now he's moved inside your head') -and Rachel always said it was a funy thing tarmac.There was a small fish and chip stall near the harbour. It was a closed harbour- the tide would come in and the fishing boats would sail. A pair of dirty swans under the small wooden bridge.
1999 English -EN1002 'So what is Hedda Gabler but a manipulative woman like all women?' asked the grey haired tutor-he was never made a Doctor- He was an old boy who 'd been to Oxford and they kept him in the department. After the tutorial he closed the door, smiled, asked me if I was French. No, me I am Greek I said. We were alone in the room-he was wearing a grey suit . There was a pause there, a sudden silence. I opened the door and ran down the creaking stairs laughing. Pictures of Dryden on the wall.
2000 Macbeth cast party Party at Bell street-Mary snogging Ian on the stairs. Dancing on Jess' lap never knew she was bisexual and then she stuck her tongue down my throat.But ,...but Jess...I mumbled I am not ...Later on that evening I looked outside the window.I could only see snow.
2002 A tiny room. I would watch the frost pile up at my window at night and shiver in my bed. A wooden desk, shelves that had been hastily superglued to the wall. Newspaper cuttings –clippings, flyers, postcards from St.Fransisco, Greek poems. We had five parties that year. We burned the living room carpet. I fell in love with a rugby player at our first party.The theme was 'Eastern promises'. Flowers in my hair - he told me I was the preetiest, the best ever and swung me round. His favorite book was 'The Outsider' by Camus. (I should have ran away there and then, but didn't) . He held on tight all night. It was off then, and then it was on, it was off it was on. One night he hit me really hard. He shoved me across the wall - I remember seeing the white Victorian door, the paint chipping, my face coming nearer. I heard my head banging on the wall. 'So this is what wood feels like' I thought for a split second as I felt my arm hitting the door.
'Every girl deserves a prince 'Sophie would say.'Yes Poly-fucking -Anna' I used to think and laugh. Sophie was blonde and beautiful and used to sing like an angel. Our other flatmate Mary (a blossoming alcoholic) would vacuum the house in her crumpled underwear with a fag in her mouth. She would shag a a different bloke every night (who the fuck did she sleep with this time we 'd say over breakfast when we had to share the table with some random). She drank like a fish. Grainne would shut herself off in her room - she didnt like noise, company .She hated all of it. Migraines, tons of migraines , a cloth on the forehead. Immersed in darkness for days on end.
2003 English EN3070 'You have a voice, a vision. Be true to your voice but never be blinded by it' the professor said. The tutorial was full of Americans that had come to live Thoreau's dream. (Civil disobedience in the Scottish countryside.)They were very earnest in their hiking boots.They spent most of their time listening to Bob's stories about chopping wood in Utah and looking for their glorious Scottish ancestry. 'Your writing is very fluid', the professor said. 'Now talk to us about the olive orchards little Greek girl.'
2001-Swings by the pier in the green green grass - we used to run on the tarmac and sing Pulp songs ('First you let him in your bed now he's moved inside your head') -and Rachel always said it was a funy thing tarmac.There was a small fish and chip stall near the harbour. It was a closed harbour- the tide would come in and the fishing boats would sail. A pair of dirty swans under the small wooden bridge.
1999 English -EN1002 'So what is Hedda Gabler but a manipulative woman like all women?' asked the grey haired tutor-he was never made a Doctor- He was an old boy who 'd been to Oxford and they kept him in the department. After the tutorial he closed the door, smiled, asked me if I was French. No, me I am Greek I said. We were alone in the room-he was wearing a grey suit . There was a pause there, a sudden silence. I opened the door and ran down the creaking stairs laughing. Pictures of Dryden on the wall.
2000 Macbeth cast party Party at Bell street-Mary snogging Ian on the stairs. Dancing on Jess' lap never knew she was bisexual and then she stuck her tongue down my throat.But ,...but Jess...I mumbled I am not ...Later on that evening I looked outside the window.I could only see snow.
2002 A tiny room. I would watch the frost pile up at my window at night and shiver in my bed. A wooden desk, shelves that had been hastily superglued to the wall. Newspaper cuttings –clippings, flyers, postcards from St.Fransisco, Greek poems. We had five parties that year. We burned the living room carpet. I fell in love with a rugby player at our first party.The theme was 'Eastern promises'. Flowers in my hair - he told me I was the preetiest, the best ever and swung me round. His favorite book was 'The Outsider' by Camus. (I should have ran away there and then, but didn't) . He held on tight all night. It was off then, and then it was on, it was off it was on. One night he hit me really hard. He shoved me across the wall - I remember seeing the white Victorian door, the paint chipping, my face coming nearer. I heard my head banging on the wall. 'So this is what wood feels like' I thought for a split second as I felt my arm hitting the door.
'Every girl deserves a prince 'Sophie would say.'Yes Poly-fucking -Anna' I used to think and laugh. Sophie was blonde and beautiful and used to sing like an angel. Our other flatmate Mary (a blossoming alcoholic) would vacuum the house in her crumpled underwear with a fag in her mouth. She would shag a a different bloke every night (who the fuck did she sleep with this time we 'd say over breakfast when we had to share the table with some random). She drank like a fish. Grainne would shut herself off in her room - she didnt like noise, company .She hated all of it. Migraines, tons of migraines , a cloth on the forehead. Immersed in darkness for days on end.
2003 English EN3070 'You have a voice, a vision. Be true to your voice but never be blinded by it' the professor said. The tutorial was full of Americans that had come to live Thoreau's dream. (Civil disobedience in the Scottish countryside.)They were very earnest in their hiking boots.They spent most of their time listening to Bob's stories about chopping wood in Utah and looking for their glorious Scottish ancestry. 'Your writing is very fluid', the professor said. 'Now talk to us about the olive orchards little Greek girl.'