Venturing into the noughties.

I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the,
I was following the pack,
All swallowed in their coats

______________________

Saturday came and I turned into a 20 year old. I'm now venturing into the noughties.

A strange sense maturity hit me now I've had time to reflect on my new age. I currently live away from home, have amazing money issues with Halifax, doing a university degree and secured a house for next year. All points are kind of major and scary when thought about in great detail but collectively all go hand in hand. However, I just carry on with a smile from cheek to cheek mainly because I'm away from Wakefield, the land of teenage pregnancy and utter shits.

On the whole my birthday was a cracking birthday. From silly hats to broken pottery. Matt, Ollie, Rob, Alex and me started at HOOTERS watching the Liverpool game against Wolves. We all enjoyed some beer along with amazing deep fried food. It really was a brilliant start to the day as Liverpool played cracking football and collected three points (for me). Our fun crew then went to a bar on the canal front. From the outside it looked really nice, the location was really nice as it is right on the canal with an outdoor seating area. On the other hand, once we had ordered and looked around at the current customers in there we decided to drink our pints very quickly. There was a strange mix of under aged people to steroid, All Saints wearing wankers who went around slapping semi drunk girls bottoms. The sickening thing was, the girls seemed to enjoy this. We were all baffled. But hey! Am sure they were happy spending their benefits on fine drinking experience on a Saturday afternoon.

To keep the Birthday post short - the rest of the day is a blur and I spent the best part of Sunday trying to pick on bits and bats of people's stories which involved me doing silly things. One of the main topics was Grace Tydeman decided to go around spitting down the stair cases. Like a drunken fool I followed her in this act until she made my flat mate spit in her own hair. I drew the line at this point. Silly Gracey.

Been playing around with a few ideas in my head over my current photography project 'Constructing realities and telling tales' - however, I'm getting the feeling that I'm making them stupidly complex and too difficult to pull off with a lack of funding on my behalf.

I get to see my brother on Wednesday. PEACE