It's way too hot and I can't think straight. I've been back to Leicester for a couple of days to say goodbye to my best friend before he goes to America for five weeks. I played on the continentally tempered organ at St James, had lunch at Liquid and wondered where to go next. I was meant to be going with Sam to America this year, but chose not to. It was a good decision. I am happier here, but feel a bit drained nevertheless. I feel like I'm floating a bit, just existing; not moving towards anything. Of course, I am, and I'm beginning to think more clearly about where I want to be and what I want to do.

I worry that this weblog is dull and egocentric. I'm less worried about the egocentric bit, since it is a journal, and in any case, moves in peaks and troughs in that regard. If there are interesting things to talk about which are on my mind then I probably will, but a lot of the time I feel like writing here is a therapeutic outlet of my thoughts about myself. I make no apologies for that. But I would also like this to be a documentary of university life more generally. I feel like I should be talking about what everyone does, what the problems are, what the night life is like, what social arrangements are. I suppose I don't talk about it much because, as much happier as I now am, university was over-rated, I built it up too much, and came with too many expectations. I suppose many people do. That is not to say that the first year hasn't been an amazing, valuable, and unforgettable experience; but the most valuable moments have been the most unremarkable, the most mundane. It has taught me lessons about the need for pragmatism, a sense of humour and the ability to find all that you are looking for in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Saying all that makes me feel like I've not taken what I could have done from the year though. I came wanting to socialise, branch out, let go and put my past behind me. I wanted to come fresh to a group of people who knew me and had no expectations of me. But in the end, I have behaved the same. I have withdrawn quite a lot from regular social events, because that is what I always have done. I have steered clear of going out, because that's what I've done in the past. I have concentrated on one to ones with a small number of my friends, because I get the most out of my time like that. But is that all I'm ever going to do? It doesn't seem very fitting for someone like me, who wants to do so many things in so many different ways with so many different people at so many different times. I suppose I must accept that our lives are stationary most of the time. But if I am stagnant for too long, I get frustrated.

I may be thinking too much and contradicting all the lessons that I said I have learnt, but I just know that I am going to spend this summer thinking about all the dreams I had before the year started, and knowing how few I have fulfilled because I have not been willing to take the risk, or to make the commitment. I don't want to come to every summer in the full knowledge that I could have done so much more. And I don't want to come to every summer knowing that the next one will feel the same. I need to spend each one in a different physical and emotional place.

So, if this weblog is about university life, it is about one university life. And if you're reading this trying to such every thread out in an attempt to gain knowledge of what it will be like for you at university, don't; it will be your story, and no-one else's.

Having stuffed my face at the Chinese, we went for a walk along the canal towpath last night. Aside from the floating plastic bags, two dead pigeons and dead duckling floating in the water, it was quite pleasant. Somehow I'd managed to avoid Deansgate Locks all year, so I was introduced to the pleasures of the Mancunian high life there. We ended up in Castlefield, which has two nice bridges, a canal junction, and a Roman fort. Sitting by the water was a heron, who flew off elegantly down the water. We came back via the Bridgewater Hall, bought some orange juice at Sainsbury's and called in at Kro for a drink. There's a lot of Manchester that remains to be explored. I seem to limit myself to quite a small area. A few more silly things recently spotted:

• A woman in the street screaming 'Why, why, I'm not a tramp!'
• A poisonous old biddy in the doctor's surgery telling anyone and everyone that her doctor was away, and that she had to see another one;
• A Magic Bus driver slump forward in his seat with head in hands. Perhaps he realised he was a Magic Bus driver.

And a few things that have annoyed me:

• A stupid, loud bint using her phone in the pub;
• A bus which turned right and nearly flattened us, having been in the straight on lane, not indicated, and not slowed down;
• Spar being all out of fresh bread and pain au chocolats earlier today.

All is well in Tellytubbyland.

I was very drunk yesterday. I thought that the bus was a train, tried to pay with a twenty pound note, and threw my mobile phone down the bus. I retrieved it with some difficulty.

This afternoon, I have my application form through from the Hallé Choir. I have filled it in. I will post it and maybe I will sing.

It has been quite a productive week. Rain has continued to fall for the best part of another twenty-four hours, so my organ was still engaged by the drips. Have been spending time thinking about what I want to do after this degree, and my options are: 1. Do a P. G. C. E. and start earning; 2. Do a lot of work on music now and try to get on a B. Mus or B. A. in Music in two years; 3. Take a year out to advance my organ-playing etc. That latter may be the most practical option, since I have a lot of ground to make up - A Level music, theory grades, and practical grades. I need an A at A Level and ideally Grade 8 Theory and some high grade at organ. Bah, there's time yet... I think sometimes I forget that it's the journey that counts and not whether I get there or not. Just remember Eric Satie and life will make sense again...

Today has gone a bit wrong so far, so I'm back here wondering what to do. I worked up the courage to spend £40 on a recording of Bach's complete organ works, and managed to get £5 student discount off the set. However, of course, one of the 16 CDs is missing, so I will have to go back into town to exchange them or get a refund. The bus fare will eliminate my initial discount. Also, the church where I practise appears to be falling into ruin all of a sudden, since when I went in this morning I was greeted by a cacophony of drips coming from the ceiling into buckets. Two of those buckets were, you guessed it, placed on the organ console. I might try to go up to a different organ later, when stress levels have decreased. In the meantime, here are some funny things I have seen recently:

• A man walking down the middle of Oxford Road at 3pm holding his crutches aloft, crossed with each other in a Lord of the Rings-esque You shall not pass! style;
• A member of staff at Kro walking into a bush;
• An elderly Japanese man stop in the street, pause, say 'Ooh', pause, say 'Ooh' again, and turn round and go back the way he came;
• A crazy man standing outside KFC holding a stuffed toy panda, an empty Wall's ice cream tub and singing about 'the cockroaches'.

I tell you, you can't leave the house around here.

I managed yesterday to get hold of a recording of C. V. Stanford's For Lo I Raise Up (Op. 145), which we sang at St James several years ago under Theo. I also found a recording of Peter White, an old Master of Music at Leicester, from 1959, when he played at St John's College, Cambridge. It's amazing what you can find in HMV!

A few strange days to report, unsurprisingly. I finished my essays and handed them in on time. Tuesday night I drank four pints and quickly went to sleep on my bed, only to be disturbed at 1 a. m. by my flat mates breaking through my window. Unfortunately, they caused me to sleep walk in a fit of rage apparently, indirectly causing my window to be smashed. I only woke up after this happened, and the situation, along with the cuts on my hands, shocked me a little, since I had no recollection of what happened. Anyway, they won't be invading my personal space again!

Wednesday I went to Harbour City at Salford Quays for a bit of time to myself, and visited the Lowry, Pizza Express and the Imperial War Museum North. The I. W. M. was very impressive and highly recommended. The building is cathedral, darkened and full of blacks and reds. Tall, thick, white block pillars, combined with a slight echo and the walkie-talkies of the security staff give the impression that this could indeed have been a military base, or a deserted Cold War battle scene. The content of the exhibition was first class. It gives a chronological account of 20th century war up to the present day. It is intelligent, intellectual and academic, representing an insightful look into the nature and motivation of war in general, etic terms. One thing it did well is to put current world events in perspective, both statistically and in terms of terrorism through the ages. Terrorism is nothing new, and it has always been motivated for the same reasons. War likewise: fear, threat, power. Anyway, go there!

We have acquired three kids for the choir, which has taken numbers up to thirteen. Hopefully they will stick with it, and more will follow. I cannot decide whether I really enjoy this choirmaster/organist job or not; it often feels like a lot of work, and I put myself under pressure to excel all the time. If I'm thinking lucidly, then I should recognise that the nature of the community, the people and the post indicates that it's really quite unimportant how well the job is done. But I will be thoroughly unsatisfied unless I have done it as well as I possibly can. But that attitude is hard to maintain productively. The most important thing is consistency and regularity in the form of prepared and structured rehearsals and performances, but my fluctuating emotions towards the job means that this is not really happening. I have tidied my room and organised my mind a bit. I have a lot of work on at the moment and am quite tired anyway, so I'm generally feeling stressed - but with any luck I can keep up a better level of consistency and preparation in the future. It becomes more important when dealing with kids, since they have a low boredom threshold and if even one rehearsal is not enjoyed, that may be enough to make them leave - especially in the early stages. On the other hand, they are hardened Mancunian children who probably don't give a toss and would quite happily tell you so.

I feel all whingey, but I just feel very frustrated, like I am not making anywhere near the progress I want to in any of the areas I want to at anything like the speed I want to. If I could just establish a little more self-discipline this would, without any doubt, improve - but this is easier said than done. It is amazing how easily time slips away, and when living a student life like this, structure is something which simply lacks, beyond the basics of getting up at some point roughly seven times a week and going to bed roughly seven times a week. Meh, I'll see what I can do.

One of my essays is due in on Tuesday - an easy, insignificant, airy-fairy *self-reflection* essay born of my department's obsession with bureaucracy and trendy study skills exercises. The other is a heavier Biblical exegesis of 1 Corinthians 7:25-40, and I have to somehow find 2,500 words to write thereupon. It will get done, but probably unsatisfactorily! Having said that, I think I have done about two things in my life with which I have been satisfied. Here comes another week...

It has been raining here for the last two days, so I have not left the house, particularly. But I've done my washing - almost successfully. Of course, I chose the dryer which was knackered. I am trying to put off doing my work for as long as possible, and I'm trying to think of something clever and earth-moving to write. Erm...