My space - MINE!!!

So, I'm now totally settled in my new place, and despite the fact that 80% of my stuff is still at my sister's place in London, Oxford is really becoming home. I'm loving finally having space to myself, and most of all being completely independent for the first time. Bear (bare?) in mind (hee hee - giggle at the image of a grizzly rampaging through my head) that I've been living and not homeless mostly through the good grace and charity of friends for the last five months. I've lived on Nick and Lucy's floor, and my sister's. And I've been sleeping on a blow up mattress for the best part of four months!!! Now, at last, I pay rent for a room that is only mine. I'm relishing the king size bed, and being able to put my stuff any where I want. I also bought a plant - because i really want a puppy (makes sense if you know me well enough).*

I rent a room on the top floor of a gorgeous kinda-family-home in Oxford. The woman who owns the place is Dr C, and she lives here with her husband (who is actually in Iraq at the moment), her two sons, her elderly father, and his carer (Mad M). On the top floor, its just me and Mad M, who is a very cool Scottish woman with a very cute but yappy ankle-rat of a dog. I get on very well with both Dr C and Mad M, often spending a good part of the night talking, with a bottle of wine and a pack of smokes between us.

Dr C's in her forties, Mad M's about 35, and I'm (of course) 22, so we tend to swop decade-specific stories, and talk at cross-purposes about politics, religion and, stereotypically, men. Only half the time I'm not sure what Mad M has said, because she has a really strong Scottish accent. She's also quite nuts. I dont mean to be horrible about her. I really like her, but she does think that Iraq was invaded because there is a stargate there that leads to Annunaki (a place that is heaven and a planet - i think), and the brotherhood (free masons) who run america want access to it. No kidding!

I'm also getting to know the staff from work on a more social level which is great. Last night I went out with Jo (my boss), Abi (an EFL teacher) and Ceri (the social activities organiser). We went along to a birthday bash for one of the students at the centre. It was held at a club called Que Pasa, and we spent the entire night dancing to corny but great 90's dance tunes (Ooooh, groove is in the heeaaart).

So, all in all, I think its finally safe to say that I'm beginning to make a real life for myself over here. Which is good, I think...right?



*On this note, please say hi to my adopted puppy Mr Mojo Risin, Mojo for short (see side bar)