Seeing as I am going to Rome next week, I thought I might as well update this goddamn blog, which is turning out to be quite the burden, even when I refuse to tend to it. Hmm.

Well, what has happened since last I posted?

Several things.

Most importantly, I learnt to snap my fingers, something I have been trying to do for nine years of my life.

Shall I bother listing the rest?

It’ll make this post look substantial, I suppose, which I the important thing.

I went shopping with OtherEmily, who is Australian and staying at my father’s (No, they‘re not in a relationship) , the latest in a long line of people-in-or-related to-the-Clearly-family-the-first-of-whom-we-befriended-was-Trina who have stayed at ours while in the England part of their round-the-world trip. She’s terribly nice, if she does act younger than me on occasion and insists on dragging me to musicals. But the shopping. Yes. We went to Ealing. My father, the idiot (No, he feels guilty because he’s dying. Or something.), gave me his credit card, and I ended up spending the best part of two hundred pounds. Scary, since all I walked home with was to pairs of shoes, a top, two dresses (Me! Dresses! Fashionable ones! I must admit, buying them was somewhat of a surrender on my part.), two pairs of footles tights, and a Beatles album.

That doesn’t have Maxwell’s Silver Hammer on it.

Bored yet?

I am.

I may not be able to blog from Rome, but if you’re reading this, you’re probably a Science Kid, or Sophia and (be warned) you will get terrifyingly long and tedious emails from a cheap internet café. I can see them:

“Dear (Emily/Sanna/ Robert,/Dominic,/Joshua,/Jakov/ Yasmine/ Sophia/ Janet)

(Never) Come to Rome. You would (love/hate) it here. The weather is (Adverb) (Adjective), and this means I (blah. Example: am enjoying slowly dying).

The best thing about this (adjective) city is that I can now read the books I bought to read here. They are (adjective). (Plot description of first) (Plot description of second) (short comparative essay that ends up being about capitalism and the evils of it) !

My God, I’m (bored/ happy/tired/ cynical) today. Ah, well.

Today we (Looked at/visited the/ etc.) (BLANK). Yesterday we did something very similar, but I’ve forgotten what the (adjective) place is called, (adjective) it.

Yeah.

Ugh, John Baker is starting to be incredibly irritating. He’s nice in small does, but eventually his intellectualism and (BLANK-ism/ness) becomes (adjective)

Um.

How’re you? How’s (school/home/life)? (How’re the SATs going?) How’s your family? (How’s work?)

How’s London doing?

Yours, Saoirse.”

And I will expect replies.

Anyhow, that looks substantial enough.

Bye.

Saoirse MacDermott-Cox, Otherwise known as Saoirse MacDermott-Cox.

I keep meaning to blog about my father: about the past and about the future. I’ve tried. But I’ve never been brave enough to post it. Besides, the past has happened. It’s over, in a way, and although I do need to sort out my memories of it, put them in order and deal with them, I don’t need witnesses for that.

As for the future, as for his death, dealing with it will have to happen then. I can’t prepare myself, and trying would waste time I could be happy in. And I am happy, right now. And “now”, I think, matters.

So, how is now?

I can’t see it, of course, without thinking a little about the past, and a little of the future. And things are better now, than they were even a few weeks ago, father-wise. We can sit in the same room; we can manage conversations that aren’t completely forced. Probably because OtherEmily has come back from Italy, and we have to act in front of her.

Whatever the reasons, it’s better. I still don’t believe he’s dying ,of course, and I’m still not happy through and through. But I’m happy in the shallow place right beneath my skin, and that’s good enough. I’m not ready to crack through the shell of numbness and be overwhelmed yet. I won’t ever be ready, I suppose, but I will have to do it anyway, I will have to mourn. But not now. I’d be mourning because I will one day have to mourn

Because I seem to be doing so. Or at least, this is the second day in a row that I have chosen to blog if not about, then at least during. Perhaps it's just the excitement of owning a blog. A web log. Didn't take us long to shake off that strange term, as littered, it seems, with corners as this sentence is with commas, that does not so much roll off one's tongue as kind of fall awkwardly to the ground, causing great embarrassment to the speaker, who shall surely have rocks thrown at him/her, and then be driven from the village that we all know London is, so small and filled with ignorant people, such as myself.

It was a good day, today. Kind reader, you were probably there, but just in case you are actually a stranger, Yasmine, or Jakov, or someone else, I shall, I suppose, explain. The nice little group occasionally known as the Science Kids, but more often as That Lot, You Know, Those Guys Who Hang Out In Science, except, and this is Dominic's fault so poke him, Yasmine and Jakov, and plus Lucy, went to Camden Market. In other words, because that was a strange sentence, the wonderful, amiable, laudable, and disappearing Emily, the brilliantly clever Sanna, the philosophic and wise Joshua, the witty and sophisticated Robert, the infamous and friendly Dominic(Self.co.uk) and the lovely and kind Lucy, and I walked (more reason to poke Dominic) from Kensal Rise to Camden Market, where we ate (Thank you Emily for the amazing biscuits), didn't dance, and laughed a lot. That was fun.

Apart from that, this holiday has been so far the height of boredom. But. Boredom with wireless internet, thanks to that computer nerd uncle of mine. His name is Jim, and his middle name is, and I promise this true, Bob. He is Jim Bob.

Anyhow, I think I have been dutiful and blabbed on for long enough. So, until something else worth blogging happens, and Satan   God
 Karl Marx Someone knows that'll never happen, so until I feel like blogging again, goodbye. Sleep well tonight, and every night, and remember: Communist revolutions are fun!

Oh, just guess who I am, why don't you?

Now my internet has finally decided to be kind and let me use it, I think it is time for a second post on my shiny new blog.

Today was extremely uneventful, but I managed to steal a walk to Gladstone Park, where I tried to get lost, which is almost impossible considering the amount of time I have spent in that giant square of green, sliced in two by the railway lines that go on to wind their way around the city. But because you can’t find something unless it’s lost, I had to wander around until I could almost believe I didn’t know exactly where I was. If you have been to Gladstone Park, you may remember the tree trunks scattered on the ground, twice carved: once by the artist attempting to recreate beauty, and once by the couples wanting to announce their love and by the adolescents terrified of being forgotten.

I waited until it was quite late before I ventured out. I think to avoid the beautiful weather. Not sure why. But I walked away from the tacky orange sunset, thinking, “Yeah, sure, Physics Can Be Fun.”

Well, these long warm days spent wandering and lying around can only mean one thing: the holidays, the Easter ones, with masses of chocolate to look forward to. But shining even brighter than that, is the promise of summer. Yay. Summer. Well, the abstract idea of summer. I always hate the heat once it arrives.

Ah, well.