Non-MA fluff, now that I've got no more classes to bore you with:
For a few days there we had Sunshine! It needs to be capitalised because it's very notable. I don't know why I keep living in countries where non-rain is so unusual, but I have to say, Manchester was lovely in the heat and the glare of the sun. Over the weekend I spent two afternoons fiction-editing outside the café across the road from our house. A crazy lady accosted us on the Saturday, perturbed that the pharmacy next door was closed; she refused to take our directions to the nearest alternative places, and instead sat beside us for about half an hour, bemoaning her fate. We suggested she could walk down into Chorlton and go to Boots or Lloyds or the other Coop Pharmacy, or get the bus to the huge Hulme Asda, or get the bus all the way to town, but she vehemently rejected all these ideas and just kept sitting there. In the end there were three table-loads of people trying to help, to no avail, and eventually she marched off in a huff. I saw her again on Monday, loitering outside the same pharmacy (now open), and refusing to go near the door.
But there was more to my weekend than panicking about my MA submission and trying to reason with crazy ladies; I went to a fancy concert! One of my favouritist twitterers and bloggers, Steph, couldn't make the Manchester Camerata concert in Bridgewater Hall that night because she'd injured her shoulder. She was fantastic enough to offer me her tickets instead, so me and Andy cycled into town and I pretended to be Steph at the box office - then we basked in Mozart and Haydn for two hours. I'd never been in Bridgewater Hall before; it's very swish altogether, and the orchestra was glorious. We got two whopping glasses of wine at the interval but we didn't rush to the bar quickly enough, so that by the time we were served it was nearly time to sit back down and we had to bolt the booze like a couple of kids necking cider out the back of a club. We probably let the sophisticated concert-going side down a little there, but it was such a lovely night out, and though it was a massive shame that Steph couldn't make it, I'm so pleased I got to go. On the way home we were biking along the flyover road thingy alongside the A5103, the Princess Road, and Andy spotted half a fish just lying in the road. He's tentatively identified it as a trout. Unexpected.
And in other news, I saw a girl at the gym the other day who was working out in a bikini top. I thought that was pretty odd, but maybe I'm showing my gym-naivety. Answers on a postcard. I'm off now to avoid my D-I-S-S-E-R-T-A-T-I-O-N by reading some Jonathan Coe and watching Grizzly Man.