August 4, 2007

• Thanks For The Memories!

  OK, so technically the title to this post should be in vowel-less pseudo text speak… but I ain’t doin’ that. I never do that. Not for my Dad, not for Pete Wentz, not for anyone!

  I’ve been planning this update a while now… and it’s gonna be long, I’ll warn ya ahead of time. Something dedicated to the home and friends I shall soon be (at least physically) leaving. At least I hope I’ll be leaving… Turns out my Certificate of Eligibility has been delayed, meaning my Visa shall also be delayed, meaning my arrival will… you get the picture. At present I’m set to arrive a week later than first expected, on the 26th. This means I lose out on a week of chilling at my (Interac-payed-for) hotel in Nagoya and catching up with Matt in the evenings, whilst he’s in Nagoya on teacher seminar-type stuff. I’m trying to avoid thinking of any worser-er case scenarios right now. I just hope and pray I’m in Nagoya by the 26th…! As if that wasn’t enough we’ve lost our internet connection at home (hence me not being online lately) meaning I have to venture up to my bro’s house to check my e-mails, sort my work stuff, update my Xanga etc. Not sure when we can get reconnected which is a real f***ing pain!

  OK, let’s to be reminiscing! This would be St. Paul’s Church of England First School, which I attended from age 4 to 8. I’ve noticed that in recent years every one of my schools has taken to putting up spiked metal fences around the perimeter. Kinda sad…

  

  There’s a pretty huge field behind the school where I remember playing Transformers and Thunder Cats and He-Man and whatever other 80′s cartoon/toy franchise we were into at the time. There was also a jungle gym which we were never actually allowed to play on. Naturally I played on it anyway. I still stand by the logic of my 6 year old self: what’s the point in it being there if we don’t use it?

  Next up; Stockingford Middle School. My…err.. middle school. 8 till 12, I spent my days at this place. It was probably the most significant of my 3 schools as it was where I met all the friends I am still friends with now. It was a pretty old Victorian era building and had been a school just as long so naturally was rife with ghost stories and legends ranging from bricked up doorways said to be the tomb of bad kids from times gone by, locked up for eternity by evil headmasters, to the haunting of the school by same evil headmasters. The age of the building and the atmosphere gave it a certain Hogwarts-esque character, in hindsight. Definitely my favourite school.

  

  Had to stick the camera through the same spiked fences to get this picture. It only shows a small section of the school. On the other side of the main building there were more modern buildings and, again, a huge field where we had upped our game to Visionaries, Ninja Turtles and by our final year, Street Fighter 2. Still wonder why I always played Leonardo during our TMNT period. He’s such a dork! Either way, good times.

  From 12 to 16 I went here. Alderman Smith Secondary School. It’s pretty different now and has the same Fort Knox-like security. As a secondary/high school full of smoking, drinking, teenage pregnancy-ing proto-chavs (the term “Chav” was not yet in use but, if the burberry cap fits…) this was naturally the time when my friends and I were deemed weirdo outcast types. At the same time I was being hounded by teachers for not living up to my potential, in detention and on report a lot, being a general misfit from the perspective of peers and teachers alike, except among my majority-intact friendship group from middle school. It was this time that I developed my anti-authority, conformity-resenting side. The side that relates to Anakin when he’s being dressed down by all those dogmatic, platitude-spouting, sanctimonious, self-righteous Jedi..!

  

  Again, you can’t see much of the school itself. Can’t get a good view of it, with all the paranoid security crap! There are loads of other buildings but all you can see here is the main hall building (the brick one with the chimney) and Radnor Block (the big, beigy yellow one,) the languages and performing arts building. We’ve started calling it Ragnarok. No reason… All in all this school was characterised as the scene of my sulky teenage years of indignant rebellion against “The System” and feeling out of place, like somehow I just didn’t belong and that no-one understood me… To be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark… Still, when we sat our exams and got out… things were cool. For those who are up on Harry Potter, in Order of the Phoenix, the chapter “Snape’s Worst Memory,” where James and Sirius gave each other the thumbs up in their exam, Nathan and I did exactly the same thing in our Biology GCSE back in 1996!

  After school we all went different directions, though most of us ended up here. North Warwickshire and Hinckley College. Nathan and I both did a diploma in Art here but I stayed on another 2 years to take A levels, so was here from 16 to 20.

  

  It was a cool place. Gone was most of the crappiness of school, it was a pretty easygoing, cool environment. I kinda lost direction here though. The art thing didn’t work out and my first venture to university after I left led to a pretty crappy time in my life. By 23 I managed to get back on track though, heading to UCLan and eventually NUFS too. I sometimes wish things were different, that I hadn’t lost so many years… but if I had done things differently I probably would’ve lost the good experiences I’ve had too. All in all I guess things just happen how they are meant to…

  

  This place used to be pretty important to us. There was a park here where we hung out a lot during the summer we left school. Now the park’s been bulldozed, by the looks of things. Frick!

  

  Another pretty important place to me. The house I grew up in. We lived here for 7 years, until my folks got divorced, from age 5 to 12 for me. Chris and I have never stopped viewing this as “our house!”

  

  The rooftops of my hometown, Nuneaton. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with my town. It’s pretty underwhelming and incredibly chav-infested… but it’s still the scene of my early life and the setting for a lot of great memories with friends. It just shows that people make a place, I guess.

  

  Arbury Woods. Another old haunt of ours. The road leads to an old gothic manor house that’s still owned and (possibly) occupied by some local Lord or Lady. It used to be the home of the author George Eliot (real name Mary-Ann Evans) who was born in Nuneaton, something the town won’t let you forget! We’ve never been sure how far you can legally walk before you’re “trespassing” but that hasn’t stopped us exploring these woods at night. There’s a whole load of ghost stories about Arbury Hall and woods; a “Grey Lady” (seem to be a lot of those, ghost-wise) who haunts the woods and, our personal favourite; a clown that juggles knives! I imagine the clown thing is more an urban legend made up by school kids but it’s hilarious. I hate clowns though…

  There’s a couple more photos in my photoblog. I’ve also put up a couple of videos in my videoblog. A quick tour of my house (my Mum’s house, technically) and Nathan and I on a jaunt in Arbury Woods. I’ll probably get in at least 1 more update before I leave for Japan but for now…

       

  … Peace and Out! “Get up, get up, come on, come on, let’s go. There’s just a few things I think that you should know. Those words at best were worse than teenage poetry…”

  • 9:45 am
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