Savannah
Travelling had started to open my mind, even without realising I was starting to make more sense. Of course, you didn’t know me before so it’s hard for me to explain how all of this had started to make a difference to me. Looking back, in London I had started to experience a mid twenties breakdown which from what I have seen had happened to a lot of my friends. You see I had come to London at 18 all bright eyed and bushy tailed and sailed through three years at university without batting an eyelid. The combination of the fact that I am naturally quite clever and the fact that I loved my subject (classics) meant that I had few moments of stress and plenty of time to be the life and soul of the party. Of course I had no money at all, but I don’t remember that mattering as we clung to the sleazy bars and student dives that I assume still exist somewhere in Bloomsbury. I was ‘that girl’ though, the one that threw huge impromptu parties at 11pm when the pubs shut and had the perfect student boyfriend who could play any tune on the guitar and called me Petal. After I left university I think I started to get a little bit lost. I still threw parties, but the beer turned slowly to white wine and then champagne. I started to frequent all the best places to be and my boyfriends were investment bankers and salesmen who were probably as lost as I was. The class of ’99 were as bright as ever but we became clouded and spoilt by money, champagne and cocaine and nothing seemed to matter any more. The strings on my guitar went slowly black. I can remember saying to my friend that I would never go in an old man pub again, but I can’t remember why. We all started to judge as well, perhaps I always had judged people, but before it had been on talent and by how much they made me laugh. Suddenly it became on their job, or their father or where they lived. I don’t know why these changes started to occur, but I do know that I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. Now I was out of context and I had no idea of the background of the people I was surrounded with, nor they of me and I liked the fact that they liked me. They liked me because I was funny and laid back and could still (even years away from university) drink like a man. They liked the fact that I was like them and had run away (perhaps more dramatically than most) which made me wonder, is it impossible to ever really be different to the people you surround yourself with and if not then is the secret to happiness to be in the middle of happy like minded people? And I sat in a beautiful garden square in Savannah surrounded by strangers who felt like friends and almost felt myself melt in the sun. I was still there, and I was still the same person with or without icecream topping. The goodness at the core of me that had once loved books and art and sewing and cooking and playing music was still there. Of course I’m not claiming that at this moment I was in anyway perfect, after all I had just kissed anther mans girlfriend after the best part of a bottle of gin, but if not perfect then at least both I and it were starting to make sense.
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(16.7.03 15:21) something i've still got to look forward to. we had a bit of a uni reunion a few weeks ago - we're all only 2 years out of school, but in that time, we seem to have all become fiercely competitive. rather than sit round and have a laugh as we used to, we all took turns at sniping at each other and getting dead competitive. there was a bit of a nasty atmosphere, probably the result of a load of people who were randomly thrown together for 3 years meeting up again and realising they've got nowt in common... my tip is restring your guitar. only rock and roll can save you now. |
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(16.7.03 16:20) Savannah... I'd love to go there - I'm guessing you've read Midnight in the Garden... - but I did New Orleans and it rocked. Nice blog - Pimlico is a funny place - my favourite thing is probably the cheese shop, yum, actually it'd be a stiff competition with the Regency, god I miss that place. And a classicist - hope you've checked out puella's blog (www.20six.co.uk/puella I think) which is not about classics 'cos that would be a bit tragic, but she's just a sound girl. |