olliethurley.co.uk

Ah, just the way I like it. I’ve forgotten what natural light looks like!

Since it came out a few weeks ago, I’ve been dying to get my paws on GTAiv… Finally I have, and now I can’t stop. At the very least I will get square-eyes, but if this is my last blog for a few days don’t be surprised. The chances are I’m comatose in front of the XBox. Please, any longer than a month and you should call the morgue - I’ll have forgotten to eat or sleep…

Welcome to Liberty City, Niko Bellic.

Yesterday, I returned home. Today I had to start work. That was the quickest summer holiday ever! I’m supposed to be a student! I’m supposed to waste away my summer in front of the TV, everything I’ve learnt in the past year ebbing away slowly!

Alas, it was not to be. For the past 4 years I’ve worked part time during school holidays on my Dad’s building sites; lifting, sweeping, sweating, carrying, dying.

It has to be said, I am not a Laborer. I don’t look like a Laborer, I don’t think or act like a Laborer - and most of all, I am not built like a Laborer. In all honesty, I am possibly the skinniest, weakest and most pathetic site laborer that the building profession has ever laid eyes on. And yet for some reason, it keeps coming back. Out of all the jobs in the universe, this is the one I am least suited to, and yet here I am once again. By rights, I should now be built like a brick shit-house now, only, I’m not. I’m still the stick-drawing kid who still really, really doesn’t fit in on a building site.

Luckily its the weekend so I now have a chance to briefly recover from today before returning to break my fucking back putting insulation in a half built house. Don’t worry about me though, I’ve got the joys of Radio Five Live to keep me company… Shit.

Back Home today. Will be nice to be with family again. Laura is home from Australia in a few weeks too.

Imagine: looking up from the shadows of early evening in a bustling city, seeing this incredible design, and calling it home.

For the last year my flat mates and I have resided in Flat 1201, Joseph Stones House, Leeds. Over the next few days, we’re moving out. The scene is one of chaos and folk in Hazmat suits decontaminating the Oven and Fridge…

Through all its faults; the dodgy post, the broken lifts on the 12th floor, the fires, the refuse disposal, and the insufferable heat - I think I’ll miss it here. It’s an odd feeling - there is no reason to want to stay, our rooms are small, and sometimes it smells like stale milk, but after spending a year here I’ve developed affection for the place:
- The loving and caring way that Brian the handy man replaces broken kettles and re-plasters the tiles in the kitchen.
- The way we’ve got neighbours who we can steal takeaway menus and mayonnaise from.
- The proximity to Uni, and more importantly the Palace (our local).

Last night we conquered the kitchen on horseback. Apparently our flats have to be “as we found them” in order to get our deposit back. None of us remember how we found the kitchen, it’s been so long since it was in a sanitary state that after acid-washing the oven clean, and hosing down the fridge we became disorientated and had to stop drink tea, eat cake, and watch ‘Spaced’.

Today, I’m finishing the packing ready for the big move back home tomorrow morning. Suppose I’ll have to find a way of covering the marks left on my wall by Miles Davis posters too…

Though I will miss it here, next year promises to be even bigger and better with our own house and more flatmates… and anyway, for now, who cares? Its now officially the Mother-Fuckin’ Summer Holidays!

Note to the next residents of flat 1201: If anyone finds the chicken kiev I dropped behind the freezer when we first moved in, please send it to these chaps for testing and incineration Warning - it will not be edible!