8th of October 2013| Photoblog #1

I thought I’d try something new on my blog which is kind of different from all the other various posts I do. I thought I’d “photoblog” – or “phlog” – which I guess is capturing a day in pictures. Obviously, this isn’t going to be a regular thing because my regular day is just run of the mill mundane.  Anyway this is a phlog of Tuesday the 8th of October.

Catching the train into Manchester in the morning. I was just waiting on the platform for the train to arrive.

I decided I’d wear contacts that day, and it’s pretty significant I actually took this picture because later on something traumatic happened! The contact in my left eye tore into two halves. One half decided to come out during my English language lecture whilst the other half I had to fish out later! The girl sitting next to me probably thought I was crying out of one eye or something.

I catch a connection train from Manchester to my uni campus which has its own little station. The commute all together takes me about 40 minutes.

Looking on from platform 13/14 on to one side of the station below, and onto central Manchester.

Does this mean that we shouldn’t really be complaining?

Passing through Oxford Rd station.

——————– Arrived at uni and attended by first lecture of the day.—————

 

I took this picture on the travelators in Manchester Piccadilly Station. I don’t know why but I think it has a beauty about it. I was a bit naughty but I needed to pick up a package, So I decided I’d go into Central Manchester during my lunch (1-2) and also skip my second English Literature of the day (2-3), and do some shopping. I went back into uni for my English Language lecture (3-4) and English literature seminar (4-5).

 

Waiting on the lower floor of the station for the “metrolink”, which I call a tram. Even though I could’ve easily walked into Central Manchester – it’s a ten minute walk down a straight rd – I just love getting the tram it excites me.

I have a rail card which means I don’t have to buy a separate tram ticket, but what was even better was that the kind ticket master extended my ticket without any fee to cover all the tram stops in greater Manchester as well.

Inside the Arndale shopping centre.

————– Making my way back to uni. ———————————————

I love that its cobbled.

My bags on the seat next to me. I was going to walk back to the station on my way back to uni but I saw I tram and I took full advantage of it.

“In a Station of the Metro”
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
*— Ezra Pound
*The modernist poem we discussed in the seminar sums this picture up perfectly. The busy modernist world with everyone going about their lives as fast as they can. In the picture it almost seems those two men passing each other are mindlessly merging into one another. We’re all knitted together in this cloth of society that we make up, yet our lives are so transient and individual.

Walking home. This is around 7pm.

The half of the contact which had hidden itself under my eyelid. It was so hard to detect, but I could feel it irritating me. I had to give myself and eye bath, pull the top of my eyelid up, look round in all direction and touch my eye with my little finger to coax it out.

 

I hope you guys enjoyed having an insight into my day. I really enjoyed phlogging, and maybe if I have an interesting day coming up I’ll phlog it for you. Next time, I think I’ll include what I eat and drink because that’s always a good thing to remember and share.

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Tell me what you  guys think of the phlog? Did you enjoy it?

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I wonder if she saw…

So Thursday the eighteenth  of April was a good day.  The  weather  still seems to be bipolar. Even in this bipolar weather thousands of women have already undressed themselves from their thick tights under jeans and over sized jumpers into shorts and tank tops quicker that the weatherman could suggest that it still is about 12 centigrade. But, alas we live in Britain and this might be our only days of sun.

So, anyway  as I was  returning  back home  from  university  after  a long  day of studying shopping with  my friend. I sat down on the train with a new face  that  the  make  up  artist  at  the  counter had  adorned me with,  and a cheeky high end foundation  purchase. I sat pretty content as the train chugged homewards.

Now,  usually  the  seat  next  to me is the seat where my bag resides. I usually  drape my hand over the hand rest  and place it on top of my bag like a lover places  his/her hand on their darlings knee. However, this  train  was  particularly busy so my beautiful bag sat on my lap and a blonde girl probably in her twenties took my bags usual place.

Now  considering the  make  up  artist had  got  a little foundation happy and  given  me  the  fullest face of foundation that my chubby cheeks could manage I felt slightly conscious. It’s probably ridiculous to be conscious  of flawless skin in comparison  to my usual naked face but I suppose a full face of make up is the other extreme I’m not use to.

So anyway,  as the  train whizzed through the northern country side my nose started to twitch and itch. I did  the  international my nose is twitching move, you know the one where you pout your lips and move them in a circular motion so that  your top lip  touches your nose  and appeases that little bugger. This informs the rest of the world that yes my nose is twitching but I won’t touch it because I wouldn’t want to disgust you. This is because touching any orifice on your face with the exception of your mouth whilst eating is socially unacceptable . But anyway back to the twitchy itch in my nose was like a monster trying to break out from the walls of my skin – The circular motions of my top lip were not vigorous enough. This beastly itch could not be appeased and before I could completely register what I had done my index finger was scratching way at my nose bridge and the outer edges of my nostrils! Okay, so my nose is clean but to make it worse I examined my finger and nail. What was my body doing and where was my social brain? After quickly regaining my social senses and taming my inner savage I used my peripheral vision to see if the woman sitting next to me was looking at me in a repulsed manner. From what I observed she seemed to be in her own world listening to music and texting on her phone but she might have seen me observing my fingers. Anyway the rest of the journey I felt mentally conscious, perhaps it was the heavy make up that I’m not use too or the fact I do not want to be thought of as a public nose picker by anyone. I wouldn’t class what I did as nose picking but people have different perceptions of these things and even though we might live in a world where we accept and openly talk about the way our bodies work; noses and bogies will always be disgusting

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Has this kind of stuff ever happened to anyone else where the body takes control of your actions and does something perceived socially unacceptable?