I am a sentimental girl. Most of my friends and family have witnessed at at least a couple of my emotional outbursts. They usually involve copious amounts of alcohol and special occasions- weddings, birthdays, hen do’s, leaving parties.
One recent attack that springs to mind was at my friend Helen’s wedding in Gretna Green a couple of years ago. It was an emotional affair. You see, Helen was moving to Australia the following January and I was moving back to Spain later that year. So it was the last time that I would see Helen in god knows how long and the last time I would see my best friend Natalie in months. I’d made a promise to Helen before the wedding to control my emotions (and alcohol intake) after the previous outburst at her hen do a few months before. I was gutted that Helen was leaving us and even more so was my best friend Natalie who spent so much time with Helen back in Oldham. In fact it was poor Natalie who was losing her two best friends in in blow.
Up until about 9pm everything was going smoothly Helen even commented on how unusually together I was. Then some bugger decided to get the shots in. The rest is a bit fuzzy. All I know is that at the end of the night Natalie and I were found underneath one of the buffet tables clinging onto each other sobbing with all our make up running down our faces. Lucky that we decided to hide ourselves away otherwise it would have been considerably more embarrassing.
Looking back I can kind of justify why I am so sentimental. I have had so many good times in so many different places. The fact that I have moved around so much means that I have had to say goodbye to so many good friends over the years. Friends that at the time were an integral part of my life who are now no more than distant memories. This makes me feel sad. It’s been impossible to keep in touch with everybody who made an impact on me.
I feel that each period of my life so far makes up a piece of the jigsaw that is my personality. Oldham, uni in Newcastle, Spain, France, London, Scotland and Spain again! Now I’m travelling and seeing a whole different side of the world and I know that I am forming another part of that jigsaw.
For all these reasons and in the name of sentimentalism I have decided to publish every now and again a memory from yesteryear which represents a little piece of who I have become.
Here is the first picture from the Gallery:
This picture was taken on my 20th birthday in a bar called Pacific in Newcastle Upon Tyne. On the left is me characteristically smoking a fag and posing differently from everyone else. Next to me is Loren who I’d met for the first time that night. She was to become our flat mate in our final year when we returned from our year abroad. Next is Judith a sweet girl who studied Spanish with us and was always shocked by our drunken antics. In the middle is Holly who I’d met living in halls in my first year. Holly is a mad Cumbrian who was known amongst our group of friends for her kinky tendencies and a certain incident involving some boots and devil horns in our first year. Next is Annie. My best friend at uni who I shared the funniest and drunkest moments of my life with. The blonde- Clare was a good friend for a couple of years and always entertained us with stories of her numerous chav lovers and how much it pissed her parents off. She finally got up the duff, married one of them and arrived to church in a Scooby Doo van – we always knew she was classy. Next is Nicola- a mad mackem crazy for AFC Sunderland. Her and Clare knew each other from college and constantly slagged each other off behind each other’s backs. Last but certainly not least is Katie Hardman. A totally lovable Geordie with a serous shopping addiction. A good reliable friend throughout my four years at uni.
Four years have passed since our graduation and out of all those people I am only in real contact with 2 and casual contact with one. I try to make it back to Newcastle as often as possible but usually when back in the UK my budget usually doesn’t allow much give. I intend to spend more time there this time round and I will be attending Annie’s wedding in December. I still don’t feel old enough for my friends to be getting married.
I often look back on my uni days and I can never remember a single bad memory. Yes there was heartbreak and money troubles as I drained my parents of every last penny but I know that I have those four years and each person in that picture to thank for giving me my independence and helping me find my way in the world.
Just for laughs- here’s Clare rocking up to the church on her wedding day. I didn’t know that her dad was Frank Butcher!