31 Jul
2009
Time to move house again. This time is always a little bit strange: no-one ever warns you that starting university actually commits you to moving more or less every year, seemingly inexplicably, for the foreseeable future. Maybe most people avoid this and my friends are the exception, but it seems that the majority of my friends (myself included) can't stick in one house for more than a year. Renovations cause us to be evicted, people leave, people join, requirements change, and we remain nomads.
2 years is the longest I've ever lived in a house since I left my family home, and I don't really remember one of those due to my workload and a healthy dosage of white Russians made with Finlandia. Since I went to university, I've called around 45 different beds around the world mine, and as such, I find myself in a weird state: on one hand, I never quite feel settled, but on the other hand, the sofa I'm curled up on now feels as much like my own bed as any other has ever been. I am in our lounge, wrapped in my duvet with my laptop, surrounded by boxes and bags of all the things I've grown used to having around over the past year, and I'm more than a little bit nostalgic. It's been an amazing year, Oxford is beautiful, my friends are awesome, and the next year promises to be even more exciting. I do love moving house. There's something about the chance to begin anew that I am utterly addicted to.
I am watching Spaced again. It never, ever gets old. I thought I was bored with it, but it turns out that I'd just forgotten how brilliant it is.