Dammit, Semagic! It isn't letting me post :(

Hello ElJay! I haven't been updating because I am currently very very busy with all this moving stuff. When I haven't been packing, I've been writing letters to Jason - many many letters with all the detail of this journal. When I haven't been writing letters...

Well, I've been procrastinating, mainly, or sleeping. Glorious sleeping. Ehem.

Moving morning is today! I'm expecting my stepdad to come and pick me up in about an hour's time, so I have to keep this brief while I get everything sorted out. Depending on the crossing I take on the ferry, I'll take either 'The Timeshare Presentation of Death' to work on (shorter crossing) or 'The Great Couch Happening of '69' (if we take the really long one that's about seven or eight hours).

Watch and be amazed as I'm too busy being excited by all the travelling to actually write anything. As for the moving itself, I'll be sure to write you an account of the adventures afterwards. Huzzah!

I haven't journalled much these past few days because I've been extremely busy. I've finally started packing, which, as predicted, will take days and create a whole load of mess, and I've been trying to figure out a good travel plan well in advance of going to university. This morning I plan to phone QUB over the aforementioned registration identification faff. Then there's been work, my attempts to spend as much time with Jason as possible before we both go away (he's in Exeter now; more on that in a separate entry)... so yes, I've been quite busy.

So far I've figured out a good travel plan for my first month or so. Northern Ireland has something called an iLink card - a funny top-up style travel pass which allows you free monthly travel for £70 on your chosen route. I put £70 on the card, basically, and it allows me unlimited travel between Portadown and Gt Victoria Street Station in Belfast, which is only 12 minutes or so from the English building on QUB's campus.

£70 a month is just about what I'm paying now in weekly passes, and if you think about it, it's better value for money. Here, I'm paying £68 a month for essentially two fifteen minute journeys a day - that's 30 minutes of daily travel. Portadown to Gt Victoria Street is about 45 minutes.

I'm still in the process of packing all my stuff, like I said earlier on. Up to now I've packed all my CDs except for my 'Keys to Ascension' boxset by Yes - which has the most flimsy packaging known to man. I'm not sure where to stick that where it won't get damaged. I've filled one of my two hold-alls up with clothes, and I haven't even started packing books and novels yet. I'll be leaving a few changes of clothes out so I have something to wear between now and moving, and I'll probably leave the novels until later so I'll have something to work on. Then there's my guitar - gotta find the carry case for it. It's under my bed somewhere.

Until recently, I was neglecting in my list of things to pack one of the most crucial things I'll need over there: documentation. Letters from UCAS and the university, proof of qualifications, certificates, bank statements and utility bills (if applicable) proving your previous address, birth certificate, photo ID. I may not have a driver's licence or passport, but I have all these other things. If they turn me away for not meeting their requirements I might just slap that lot down and say 'believe me now?'. I will get into that university and get my degree!

As for work, it's been lighter recently on the piling-on of stuff. Andy's just giving me a few little or simple things to do - council press releases, fillers, church news. It's very much back to square one but these things are crucial for the paper, to take up little bits of unsightly space and advertise upcoming events across the borough. I just need to soldier on through the stories I have remaining, get all fillers and church news done, caption any outstanding photos and drink tea like an absolute mofo.

Word from Mum now suggests that it could be September 13, 14 or 15 that I go. Geoffrey, my stepdad, is over on business for these days. That's plenty of time to get packed up (as in get everything packed so Geoffrey can pick stuff up on later journeys), finish my workload at the Star and have another weekend with Jason. As well as sign on again.

I miss Jason so much. He's only been gone a day and it's difficult already. He was telling me on Sunday night how the day before (when he'd stayed over at mine) it had suddenly hit him how much he was going to miss me. I had that realisation a good few weeks ago, and it's been hard living with it in England, let alone during the actual reality of being away. I just hope it doesn't hurt him too much, and that the contact we maintain makes things a little easier.

It's nearly eight in the morning and I'm awake before everyone else. This is partially due to my excitement, but also because I'm intent on going out this morning to buy aforementioned SD card. It is, however, absolutely piddling it down, and I don;t much fancy going out in that!

I don't know how many people thought Mike Oldfield crazy when he wrote about his 'atmosphere antennae', but I can really see where he's coming from. Certain days and situations really do seem to have particular atmospheres to them. Summer evenings in August, for example. The first day back at school after summer, which I probably won't feel for another year or so if all goes well. The beginning of the Christmas holidays.

Years ago, when Mum had the money to come over here and take us back to Ireland for two weeks, the two days before she was due to arrive would feel great, like one of those promising days, only they've been electrocuted or sent on a sugar rush. It's been a long time since I've had that feeling, and when I woke up this morning it struck me smack-bang in the face. I'll be heading over there in less than two days' time, and today's got that "I'm about to travel!" excitement to it.

Dad's getting up, now. I can hear him bumping about, coughing and wheezing. Perhaps I can scrounge a lift to the flea market to avoid walking in the rain and getting soaked.

I checked my e-mails again this morning and there's no reply from Mum or Claire. It matters even less, now that my plan's free from holes.

It occurred to me recently that I'd love to write a book about Canterbury; something that would be part travelogue, part insight into the city's history and culture. I'd go there myself on foot (taking the safest route, of course), write about my journey and my experience there - interlinking the stuff about the city itself - and it would be my very own Canterbury Tale. To do that would be tremendous fun.

While I'm at the flea market, it might be of benefit to look into new shoes as well, while my orange ones ended up ruined.