I can't remember whe I saw this image originally, although I think it may have been late at night, because I remember it being more side-splitting at the time. But regardless, I still think it's a clever little play on perceptions of cooleness, and it's something that many friends are quilty of (sepia tone photos? loma cameras? arbitrary angles?) I'm guilty of that last one myself, but nonetheless, the desire to produce edgy (read, poorly developed) photos remains a hobby horse of the bored moddle class youths of the UK.As for Helvetica, well, it's every trendy kid's fav. Afterall, Wes Anderson, name drop of those who can only bring themselves to enjoy indie cinema in its most mainstream form, refuses to use anything but Helvetica and Futura for the typography in his films. I should add I think Wes Anderson has produced some excellent films, but jesus generic 19 year-old from Hampstead, shut the fuck up about how he totally 'got' India like you did on your gap year. Props to my girlfriend who knows more about India than any of you, but whose extent of pretentious asides extends only as far as a rather frightening anecdote about 3rd degree sunburn in Goa. Go Danna. Anyway, the point is I thought I would have a go and make some of my own. Of course, the first issue was finding some bad photographs. I'm so immensely talented behind the lens that I normally have to physically exert myself to do anything even sub-amazing, so the rooting around in folders took a while. I think I came up with a few though. Enjoy. In order to vintage them, I took a rather cheats root, and just screwed the colourbalance / levels, so they don't look perfect. But so what, it's my blog, and it would be pretty meanspirited of you to ask for better. These ones have a slightly modern twist too, paticuarly the distorted text in the last one. Turrah.

Labels: blog, bored, Edinburgh, yay

Labels: anger, jobs, random

I'm a pretty cool guy I think. I've got some cool friends, I've got a great girlfriend, a terrific cat, and better than average style. Granted I have pitfalls, but overall, I think I'm above the mean, median, and mode in the cool stakes. But when I went back to my LastFM account for the first time in about 8 months really, I had something of a wake-up call. Maybe I used to be cool, but musically, I'm old news. I'm like the time my Dad thought Beyonce was a band. I'm like those people who said that rock and roll was the devil's music in Back to the Future. To put it bluntly, I'm not so cool. Everyone was listening to super trendy electro-folk artists from Bavaria, and I was loving tracks from Vampire Weekend. I was so ashamed.

But I figured that even if my overall history of listening was a bit geriatric, I at least had an ace up my sleeve. Classics. You couldn't argue with classics. No-one could. There's only one thing worse than not knowing about Tibetan funereal drumming, and that (as I was recently reminded in a show at Edinburgh) is never having heard Paul Simon's Diamonds on the Soles of her Feet. So I scrolled down to my top played of all time. Surely in here could only be things to be proud of - my accumulated musical wisdom of the last few years.


Now Belle and Sebastian are my favourite band ever, and in the enviable position of being both classic and hip, so we don't have to worry about them. Sufjan, well, a bit emo, but we've always known I can be a bit like that.  And crikey, it doesn't get more musical heritage than The Beatles. So the top 3 are safe I think. Final Fantasy is edgy, with links to The Arcade Fire, but a bit more on the dl, and a cheeky reference to my favourite RPG series of all time. Cat Stevens is making something of a comeback. Guillemots, ok, not everyone's cup of tea, but some stuff is very orchestral and lush. Maximo Park I think are probably the greatest mainstream rock band of this decade. Kate Bush, she was great back then (and quite sexy) and her more recent stuff is still great. And Laura Marling is darling of festival goers everywhere still.

So, the top 9 are all safe. In The Weakest Link I would have banked that. That's safe. Nothing to worry about there. But what about number 10. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED. I have a bloody mononymous Irish singer. I have one recurring memory from my childhood Christmases, and that's Enya. Not so much listening to her as having her looped in a kind of pseudo-torture for the entire festive season. Why is she there? She was on the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. It's so uncool I did a mini-sick in my mouth. So now my new aim is to get someone else up there sharpish. Because the longer this goes on, the worse really. Enya will never come back into fashion. She's not like wine, which might improve with age. She's like Sainsbury's Basics Diet Cola, with the top left off, which goes flat. And it wasn't very good to begin with remember. I'm so ashamed.

Labels: blog, music

I promised you madness. I promised you excitement. I probably didn't promise full-frontal nudity, but that's involved to. And here for one night only (and then the rest of the lifetime of the internet) is my post about Edinburgh. What a city. I went up for about 5 days as part mini-break to see the festival, and part to see my girlfriend. I'd been up before just casually during the year, and also during Hogmanay, the Scottish equivalent of New Years, except they slaughter swine rather than toast champagne flutes. It's very neo-neanderthal. But Festival is something else. Or rather festivals is something else, because, as I found out, Edinburgh Festival is not just one festival, but a whole stratification of them, layered on top of one another like some mighty cultural club sandwich. The Fringe is pretty famous for all its comedy, but so is the Book Festival, and the original International Festival. It's actually a really remarkable thing, and it's a testament to Edinburgh and its festivals that despite numerous emulations, nowhere really comes close. That's partly down to the geography and history of the city. I can't think of many other places at once historically and culturally prestigious enough, and yet topographically compact enough, to facilitate the network of performances that occur over the course of August. You pretty quickly get to the point where you are just staggered by the scale of the thing - if you watched 5 shows a day (a real possibility if you are strong-minded enough due to 50min running times employed by many shoes and relative proximity to other venues) all month, you wouldn't touch the tip of the iceberg. I think I've confused two metaphors there, but if I have, it only serves to underline the staggering scale of the thing. The whole city transforms from a collection of assembly halls, pub broom cupboards, and ancient monuments to a series of wonderfully eccentric performance venues. It's like Transformers for the high-minded.

I was lucky enough to see a really decent amount of stuff while I was there (and also some terrible stuff, but we don't mention that). On the first day proper we went to see a random comedy gig in the bottom of The Tron (a Scream pub) and excitingly, sat right next to the lead singer of Franz Ferdinand, Alex Kapranos. He and his very Kate Moss-themed girlfriend literally rubbed shoulders with us. I vowed never to wash again, and to try and replicate his hair as soon as he got home. Then we saw a spoken word gig about a German vampire by some poor first timer who was actually pretty good. Unfortunately, the whole thing feel around him almost as much as his attempts to do an impromptu Irish accent did in light of the technical failures that spotted the show, and it had to be cut half way through. Poor sod. He reminded me a lot of, well, me, as he said things like 'crikey' a lot. He was clearly a real ladies man, and had an excellent intellect.


We also saw some great comedy at a show called 'Spank', which involved a fairly cutting edge load of stuff. Jokes included a three-minute physical comedy piece about old men reliving their soggy biscuit days, a quiz show where it was asked whether it was normal, or indeed right to feed a cat a Vienetta (the answer was 'if you're rich'), and the actually rather interesting observation on testicles that they were probably the only thing in the natural world that was both crinkly and shiny. And a man paraded his wang out for a few minutes to some applause. Unfortunately we ended up seeing a slight variation of the same show a few days later, but it must have been aimed at a slightly different audience, as there was not so much cutting edge comedy involved as there was a kind of Royal Variety Act celebration of mediocrity. I have to say, I have seen some bad shows in my time (an am dram performance about Bacchus in a Camden Town pub springs to mind), but the ten-minute sketch which literally only consisted of men dressing up in drag and performing songs from the Sound of Music libretto took the biscuit. Truly bizarre. Probably the best thing I saw however had to be Kevin Bridges, who was really, really good. I was slightly surprised at this as my girlfriend bought the tickets when she was quite drunk, so presumably she would have found almost anything funny. Good job babe for taste making that keeps a clear head.


Although, saying what was my favourite thing makes me realised I have missed out an incredibly important part of my trip. The most important bit. I give you the arbitrarily spelt ceilidh, refuge of awkward Scottish middle-age loners since time long past. No I jest, it was actually such good fun, and quite a work out, and made me want to go out and buy a kilt. Not as much as the American family bedecked in Scottish tat-wear though. Awkward.

I will leave you on that dancing note, and with the charming thought that apart from seeing the lovely girl, doing the Dashing White Seargant was the most fun I have had in a while. Turrah Edinburgh!

Labels: Edinburgh, travel, yay

Hello Blog! It's been a long long time since I updated here, but that is because I have been away the last 5 or 6 days, going to see my girlfriend in Edinburgh. Happily, my visit coincided with the Edinburgh Festival, which was absolutely amazing - I just wish I had had more time there to fit more in. What a city. I will blog about that more in detail at some later point (hopefully tomorrow). For now this is more an update, because apparently, when I go to Edinburgh, I get not one, not two, but three new international visitors! And the best thing was, one of the visits was for a duration of longer than 00:00 seconds! What a coup! I'm sticking those up here now to celebrate with a short little burst on each place (incredibly interesting locations all three of them, so be prepared for some interesting facts). Otherwise this is a shout out to my girlfriend, who on top of being a wonderful host, also bagged an internship she was after. I would elaborate more but want her to maintain some anonyminity, even on a site only I (and occassionaly she) reads. However, suffice to say it's a really impressive thing she is going on to, and best of all, she will be in London, which means that we will be closer, so I'm totally stoked for that. More on this too, at some later date (it's late tonight, and I just want to clear out some blog duties more than anything else. Expect few witticisims as a result. I know, disappointed right? Get over it though.) So without further stalling, here are the places in the world which have been looking at the site. It's time to play...INTERNATIONAL VISITOR!


Hanoi, with an estimated population of nearly 6.5 million in 2009,is the and second-largest city of Vietnam. From 1010 until 1802, it was the most important political centre of Vietnam, although briefly overshadowed by Huế. However, Hanoi served as the capital of French Indochina from 1902 to 1954, and from 1954 to 1976, it was the capital of North Vietnam. Interestingly and topically, October 2010 will officially mark 1000 years of the establishment of the city.Welcome to the website Hanoi. Enjoy it. Soak it up.


Not so much a city itself as an area within a city, Shibuya is one of the 23 special wards of Tokyo, Japan. Famous as the business centre of Tokyo, it also has a reputation as a fashion centre, and major nightlife hub of the capital. Where most people will recognise it is from its appearances on television and film - the absolutely jam-packed scramble crossing outside of Shibuya Station, the very same crossing that also (if Boris Johnson's PR is to be believed) was the inspiration behind the conversion to a similar style crossing at Oxford Circus. We salute you, innovative people of Shibuya. Enjoy the site.


And finally, after something of an Asian Invasion, we return to closer climes in the shape of the charming German city of Bonn. As robust municipally as it is phonetically, the aptly named 'Bonn' is a very charming place. Perhaps most famous for sireing the great Romantic composer Beethoven, Bonn is typical of the picturesque communities of the Rhine. International players seem to love it too - it has become home for a number of global organisations, and especially ones focused on development and sustainable enviornment. The most recent new body to make Bonn its home was also in the running for the most absurdly long name for an international body ever, when in 2007, the United Nations Platform for Space-based Information for Disaster Management and Emergency Response (UN-Spider) moved in. Also massive props have to be given to our lovely visitor from Bonn for actually staying on the site for a mighty 37 seconds. As I mentioned, this is a record of sorts, and an enviable one. Congratulations Bonn. I would say enjoy the site like I did with the other two, but there's clearly no need, as with your 37 second visit, it's pretty obvious you already did.

Other than that I have quite a lot of admin to do tomorrow. I am STILL waiting on a transcript from UCL (plug here against their highly slow records office)and have had a very patient but pressing email from college essentially saying, no transcript, no room. Which is fair but a bit frustrating as I'm literally just waiting for a piece of paper to be sent to me. I also have a whole load of other stuff that needs to be sorted out for college - everything from allergies to data protection, so I will sift through all of that. (And pray that bloody transcript gets here!) If it's not here tomorrow I guess I will just have to ring them and cry or something. Ah well.

Labels: Edinburgh, international visitor

When you think about rooms at uni (digs if you insist on being archaically English, dorms is you want to be an American jock) you can access a whole host of different resonances. On the one hand, a slightly damp, cinder block-based construction comes to mind. On the other hand, anything absolutely plastered with sports pennants also suits the bill (do non-Americans know what these are - they aren't common here). But having had three years at uni already, and at least one more on the way, I thought it was time to sit back and have a very real think about what exactly makes the ULTIMATE dorm room. Not just a clean one. Not just somewhere which doesn't reek of a 32-hour World of Warcraft binge. But the type of room which positively radiates greatness. Carlsberg don't make dorms, but if they did, they would be like this. Not just a dorm room, but an M&S dorm room. And other suitable slogans. The most important thing to do before embarking on a stylistic journey like this is to look where you have come from before you even look to where you are going.  In first year I was somewhat restricted in personal expression due to a rather tasteless furniture set that UL had deemed worthy of inflicting upon me. As a result, my expression sought new pastures. I was quite into edgy, heroin-chic literature, and so I was unduly influenced by Will Self's remarkable study:




Although, unlike the flâneur's map-driven room above, my room was filled with post-it notes stuffed full of slightly more elementary things; dictionary definitions to be precise. If you have read any Will Self before then you will fully understand that the need to radically expand my lexicon went hand in hand with my desire to cover it with little squares of yellow paper.

In my second and third years I rented a house in Camden with a group of very lovely friends, and my room then was slightly bigger, and didn't have the depressingly bulk-order furniture either. I thought, here is a chance to create my masterpiece; here, for the first time is the canvas suitable for my unusually expressive brushwork. Here's what I had:


Apologies for the blurriness (I know right? This isn't the 90's, but tell that to my camera phone), but as you can see, it's basically an IKEA room. A nice one, and certainly one I enjoyed living in an awful lot, but an IKEA room nonetheless. Although I hasten to add, nothing like the IKEA room that IKEA themsevles purport to be an exemplar of how, with their furniture you can get a room to look:


I KNOW! What the hell is that? I want to know what university IKEA visual design staff went to that gave them the impression that anyone would live in a room this big during university. This is a fortress. It's fucking palatial. That's partly envy speaking, I'm sure, but the point stands - never in my life have I seen such an optimistic fashioning of the humble dorm room. I'm also concerned for the occupant. Anyone who uses a rocking chair in their academic pursuits probably isn't leaving with more than a third. Nice little round mats though. They make me think of drops of giant's blood. Still, it gives you some expression (distorted or otherwise) of the inherent potential that a space has. And speaking of potential, I leave you with pictures of the preppiest coolest looking room I have ever seen, belonging to a senior of French and Art History at some American college. Utterly fantastic. If I had more money (for additional ties) I would certainly emulate. Although again, you do wonder, where does he sleep and study. On the dresser?:


It looks like a gentleman's opium den. I love it. If you want to see a few more pictures, then the original link is here, to an article in the chirpily named New York Home Design. I like the mini-mini-bar as well, if only for the pleasing mise en abîme you get when describing the thing.

P.S. My cousin got a training contract with Ashurst (very enviable) and is now going to London to study the GDL. Apparently they told him on his first day to turn up with a wheeled suitcase to take all of the new law books he has to handle. That made me pretty jealous if I'm honest.

P.P.S Apparently I got onto the pre-term intensive Latin course. I am stoked, but also shockingly frightened. I mean, how much Latin can you learn in two weeks? Hopefully loads I guess!

Labels: cambridge, random, university

G'day mate, and welcome to Australia (specifically Tasmania, specifically Hobart). I don't know much about Tasmania, apart from its animal fame, as home of the eponymous Tasmanian devil, and the sadly extinct Tasmanian wolf. I always think Tasmania sounds a little bit backwater - apologies to residents. But I can imagine literally red-necked people in battered straw hats playing the fiddle morosely. Still, I'm very happy to have our first hit from Oceania - it bodes very well indeed. At the moment, re: a conversation with girlfriend/partner I am awaiting the first ever hit from Belgium. Speficially Bruges. We have decided to live there at some point, so a visitor from that lovely city would be very welcome. Get in touch you Flemish!

Labels: international visitor

I fancied writing a new post, as I have quite a lot of time on my hands tonight, the parents having gone to bed pretty much as the program about the Amish teenagers on Channel 4 finished, and my sister having retreated, hermit crab-like, into the recesses of her flat-screen tv appointed room. My girlfriend is probably deep in Skype conversation with a uni friend off to China tomorrow, and so I'm rather on my lonesome. Or so I thought, because in a flash of inspiration, I remembered that with the internet, you're never quite alone at all. And tonight, not because it's important, and not because it's interesting, but for the simple reason that I feel like talking about it, I want to to consider a set of miniature topics. I realise this is unconventional, and that bloggers seeking fame are advised to find a niche, stick to it, and give long and detailed expositions on the area of their choosing. But I am an innovator (apparently a male trait due to risk-seeking personas, thank you The Naked Woman, by Desmond Morris for that one. It's not all good news though, the risk-seeking strategies evolutionarily encoded in men also mean at age 30 they are 15 times more accident prone than their female counterparts) and as such, refuse to shy away from this ground-breaking approach. I choose, as my starting position, Careers, and then will move along to two more, at least tangentially connected topics. My main reason for choosing Careers is probably because I spend most of my time talking about it of late with my partner. (Incidental note - I think I will now start to call my girlfriend my partner - it has more gravitas. Incidental note that occurs as I write this incidental note: possibly might make people assume I'm gay. Will talk to girlfriend/partner about what she thinks.) Anyway, after an inexcusable amount of rambling, here we go:

Careers.

It's not a 'come hell or high water' type thing for me, but at the moment, I quite fancy being a solicitor. Apart from the obvious draw of the profession that solicitor is, in fact, an anagram of 'clitoris'. There are lots of things going for it. Decent pay, varied work, and a sense of involvement in bigger things. But my goodness if it isn't tricky to get into. I'm applying again for internships this year, after a stunning failure last year, and hoping for a bit more luck. But sometimes it does feel, especially considering the type of people I went to uni with - many of whom are all over high-flyer careers already, that the boat has left without you. I've got my hopes set on a vacation scheme at Slaughter and May this Christmas - I think I have more than a rubbish chance, but as last year showed, the track record is not exactly superb. I would just like to get one really, as I do really feel once you have one, it would become exponentially easier to get the next, and in turn the next, ad infinitum. Plus I use phrases like ad infinitum, and someone has to love that right? (Speaking of latin, I today learned that 'invictus' was Latin for 'unconquered'.)

Sartorial elegance.

But if you've got a career, and god willing, I will do some day, then you have to look the part. I actually think I'm quite a good dresser, but perhaps could do with toning it down a bit. I saw a classic suit for sale  at Charles Tyrwhitt (most difficult shop in Britain to spell?) which I fell in love with, in a terrific shade of blue, lighter than navy, but just about doable for formal stuff. Imagine my face on the below picture:



I KNOW. Brilliant isn't it. Don't get me wrong, I adore my suit, and, bespoke as it is, nothing else is really going to fit as well. But seriously, how nice is that for a second suit? I even think it's three-piece, which is of course, preferable. I also quite fancy getting a nice new handkerchief, maybe polka dotted. Is that too banker-ish? I don't know. I feel all materialist, but in a good way. It's like the burning you get when you accidentally get Deep Heat on your genitals - all-consuming, but invasively pleasant. This is what the girlfriend/partner must feel like when she buys most os ASOS.

Pet


I have a pet, a great pet, but when you're a grown-up (and if you have a career and sartorial elegance, well, frankly, I don't know what else to call you except perhaps 'object of envy') you also need a pet. Even in London I think this is true. Imagine taking Fido/Trixy/Cornelius/whatever it's called for a walk in the morning chill of an early start in Hyde Park. Or relaxing on your grown-up sofa in your grown-up flat with your down-right grown-up cat (possibly a rescue cat for extra grown-up, socially responsible brownie points). I'd even be happy with a rabbit if it could be housetrained. I did historically always want a monkey, but since that case where a monkey ripped off a woman's face, I'm rather beginning to think better of it. Possibly a substitute of one of these badboys might do it.

Personality Tests

Ok ok, I said I'd do three, but the little monkey made me think about that monkey in The Golden Compass (or The Northern Lights if you weren't a horrid little American brat like I was when it came out). Plus it's slightly related to the Careers bit because of psychometric testing and stuff, so it kind of takes us full-circle nicely. Although, honestly, I really don't care about that, I only want to find out my daeaeeeaaamon or however the hell Pullman decided to spell it....

(I've gone to do an online test)

...hmm, looks like I'm a magpie or a raven. Not sure how I feel about that, especially as the profile doesn't sound like quintessential Danny. Plus, I'm not sure a magpie is going to be badass enough for me really. Might retake. But it's like a massive effort. I guess that a magpie is good enough. Actually I just saw the picture below and I'm warming to the idea. He looks pretty dangerous. Bet he's scrappy in a fight too. Yeah ok. Magpie, you're cool.

Labels: bored, random

Well well well. As of today, we officially have all of North America under our belt, as Canada join the illustrious list of 'nations which have visited my blog'. And the visitor came from Montreal, home of, well, all sorts. A little bit of background reading infoms me that it is a former home of the Olympic games, an F1 circuit, and is the second largest French-speaking city in the world, after Paris. How amazing is that. It's also home to the enviably good McGill University. So who knew. Looking at the photos, it looks like a pretty lovely place, although, being French-speaking, I might have some trouble. Maybe one to visit with Anna though, I'm sure she could manage it. We've had a bit of an increase in traffic recently actually, so perhaps we are sitting on the precipice of huge, international digital fame. I doubt it, I've only ever written one post on here which hasn't been boring to anyone bar myself, but you never know. Perhaps I've come into fashion somehow.

Labels: international visitor

I have changed the layout of the site a little bit mainly because I was sick of those actors on the header insulting me all the time. Seriously. I'm the only one who comes on here, so it's effectively all aimed at me. I couldn't deal with it, and now the site is a little different, just a nav set and a link image on the side leading to the homepage. The bunny is actually Young Hare, a 1502 piece by the seminal artist of the Northern Renaissance, Albrecht Dürer. So it's cute and relevant. For some reason I half expected this (admittedly minor) change to herald in a new period of traffic for the site, especially from our growing international contingent. This has not been the case so far, but I still have some hope. Anyway, this is just an update to explain things in case you were sad that the obstinate players which hurled Shakespearean insults at you had just upped and left. Now we have a bunny. I am still wanting to commit a major change to the site, to introduce comments and RSS, but for now I think this is cleaner. Turrah.

Labels: blog

I finished watching the second episode of the BBC's Sherlock last night. It was a good watch, the production is polished and there are some nice little touches throughout. In fact, the whole thing hangs together very well as a whole. But my issue is that despite it being a good all-rounder, I kind of feel we've seen it all before.

Perhaps the most obvious thing appears in the opening credits of the series. Sherlock is set in modern-day London, as opposed to the fairly recent, and more high profile, steam punk-styled celebration of Victoriana that was Sherlock Holmes by Guy Ritchie. Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive, but to my mind, the opening music to the BBC version sounds ridiculously similar. See for yourself - below is the opening theme from Sherlock and a theme called 'Discombobulate' from Sherlock Holmes:









As well as that, the nerd chic of the thing, the slightly camp nature of the villains, and the virtually tongue in cheek approach to any depictions of fear and suspense all just make me think of Doctor Who. Perhaps it doesn't help that Sherlock was co-created by Stephen Moffat, who also worked on a few of the most recent Doctor Who episodes - the tone is very similar. And the basic structure is shared as well - in both programs a freakishly and unassailably clever hero solves mysteries along side his lesser, but ultimately more human sidekick. There are some nice touches throughout (I particularly liked the use of organic placement of text in the program) but it all feels a little bit too similar. In some ways this doesn't always work against it. Considering the movement into the modern-day of the series, the ability to hold onto something familiar eases the transition into contemporary Sherlock. And it has to be said in fairness that a slight emulation of Doctor Who should hardly be onsidered the worst fault in television - Sherlock's sci-fi brother has rode on a wave of continual success since the Tennant era. I'm quite a fan of the original novels, and it was pleasing to see reference to them even from the first episode (swapping Scarlet for Pink is the change the TV series makes for its own title from the original novel). And although the character of Holmes is actually quite different from that of the Conan Doyle work, there is nonetheless an important sense that the essence of the character remains pretty well intact. I look forward to the third episode, to see if they can pull something original out of it for the final section.

Labels: TV

"The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale, cold light of reason, is so infinitesimally small, the dark regions of human ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring so immeasurably vast, that imagination is feign to step up to the borderline and send the warm, richly colored beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness ; and so, peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own figure for real beings moving in the abyss.

Sir James George FrazerThe Golden Bough

April 2010 / May 2010 / June 2010 / July 2010 / August 2010 / September 2010 / February 2011 / April 2011 / August 2011 / September 2011 /

Messing with Illustrator / /homeless / The irony of househunting. / Househunting / Some old material / Favourite capture on Google Maps Street View / Idiot librarian / THIS IS NOT THAT DAY! / Confirmation (not religious) / love data? love data. /

The title of this blog comes from a poem by Coleridge, A Wish: Wriiten in Jesus Wood, Feb. 10th, 1792, Plus most blogs are moans anyway. Including this one. lol manuscripts

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I'm a 23 year-old student in London Cambridge London, studying English Literature Law. It's hard to really think of anything truly personal I can put here that might give you some idea of who I am, so I will just tell you that my favourite Shakespeare play is Richard II, my favourite chocolate bar is Snickers, and I have a bit of a thing for instant coffee, especially if someone else makes it for me.

I'm interested in Renaissance Literature, Higher Education policy, and libraries.
I'm completely in love with a Scottish girl.