I was v. glad of your talkativeness. More or less every other netmeeting I've had, there's been awkward silences, especially at first.
Yeah, that happens at Slimelight, people asking if you're ok. Thing is, a lot of people there use drugs (that's how they stay awake all night), so they're concerned that something more serious might be amiss. This was the first time it didn't happen to me, probably because I was mostly in a corner. Mind you, people generally only ask once then leave you to it. (The only exception being the first time, where a man [boy? He was twenty five, but it seems strange calling Slimelighters men] I was sitting next to kept telling me I was shaking.)
My journey was ok, glad yours was. I tried to write to stay awake, but dozed a lot at first, waking up every time the train stopped. It was a bit scary, since most of the stations look exactly the same if you can't see the name, and even though I *knew* the train couldn't be in Canterbury yet, I get paranoid when I'm tired. Fortunately, a really loud, really bratty family got on board at Gillingham and kept me awake for a few stations, and I managed the rest of the train journey.
I decided to compromise between walking back to campus (it's about forty minutes' walk, up a hill) and forking out for a taxi, and went to the bus station. I saw that there was supposed to be a bus at 10.45. "Most excellent," thought I, for it was 10.43. But although a bus pulled up, presently, the driver got off and said, "I'm not going till 11, love." It was 11.15 before he set off. Quel geen.
It's good that you're not too tired. I wasn't particularly sleepy when I went to bed, but when I woke at 5.30 (after dreaming about going to Slimelight with the intention of working out which of its clients were the gender they appeared to be and which were transvestite), as I had a shower and hung around with Soppygit and Ibid, I was v. yawny. I'm a bit awaker now, though.
no subject
Yeah, that happens at Slimelight, people asking if you're ok. Thing is, a lot of people there use drugs (that's how they stay awake all night), so they're concerned that something more serious might be amiss. This was the first time it didn't happen to me, probably because I was mostly in a corner. Mind you, people generally only ask once then leave you to it. (The only exception being the first time, where a man [boy? He was twenty five, but it seems strange calling Slimelighters men] I was sitting next to kept telling me I was shaking.)
My journey was ok, glad yours was. I tried to write to stay awake, but dozed a lot at first, waking up every time the train stopped. It was a bit scary, since most of the stations look exactly the same if you can't see the name, and even though I *knew* the train couldn't be in Canterbury yet, I get paranoid when I'm tired. Fortunately, a really loud, really bratty family got on board at Gillingham and kept me awake for a few stations, and I managed the rest of the train journey.
I decided to compromise between walking back to campus (it's about forty minutes' walk, up a hill) and forking out for a taxi, and went to the bus station. I saw that there was supposed to be a bus at 10.45. "Most excellent," thought I, for it was 10.43. But although a bus pulled up, presently, the driver got off and said, "I'm not going till 11, love." It was 11.15 before he set off. Quel geen.
It's good that you're not too tired. I wasn't particularly sleepy when I went to bed, but when I woke at 5.30 (after dreaming about going to Slimelight with the intention of working out which of its clients were the gender they appeared to be and which were transvestite), as I had a shower and hung around with Soppygit and Ibid, I was v. yawny. I'm a bit awaker now, though.