Lacking in role models who have broken out and made a difference in it in policy or the revision of populist attitudes (no matter how minute), I myself felt powerless and resigned to the same. That the world should, and would, follow such established hierarchies.

Or perhaps, and most likely, it was simply that I did not open my eyes. There have been a lot of protests, people value human rights or a particular vision for the future and they have stood up for it. I feel stupid and hollow to think what I have not seen, and I wonder what I’ve done with myself all this time.

I don’t know exactly how my parents feel. I sense that they feel these activists are troublemakers, but I can’t say for certain. Both were avid consumers of general media whilst I’ve lived with them, but if they had opinions they certainly never bothered to voice them to me.

I feel sad that we’ve not progressed since Tiennamen Square but also I am moved by the River Crabs and other netizens whose thirst for information and knowledge lead them to expose news under the Chinese government’s iron censorship fist.

I feel it’s important that this is not buried. I want to contribute, to raise awareness. I want to be a part of this.

I want to have a training contract, and the first step of that is perfect application forms. Nothing sloppy, nothing slap dash, regardless of the rush I’m in. I have what it takes. The academic, the experience, the personality.

Go for it. Somebody’s gotta get it and you have put too much time in it to let it go to waste. I love you.

Go for gold.

they’re nice. we walked out of an italian restaurant at 30% capacity after waiting 45 minutes for some pizza and pasta. i put my hands up to getting drawn in for the chandeliers and cured meats hanging from the ceiling. fu’s was reliably excellent, as ever. we sipped caiparihnas compliments of his mate’s mate, who was the manager at a latino bar & grill. watched some on the projector and our guests retired. i didn’t even overhear them bonking.

we woke to sunshine and the smell of fresh bread. blinds were drawn so we could snigger at the latest have i got news for you.

after seeing our guests off we gravitated towards town. i showed him a carribean stall on the side streets, this guy with a thick northern accent told us about a brew made with irish moss, jamaican isinglass and linseed. we had never heard of fu fu flour so bought a bag of it. town was a parade of masked and costumed performers, all cowbells and horns and drums. we watched “menora horsage” .. a ceremony of synchronised riding. i had a go a zambomba, a drum-type mallorcan instrument that you wank off to play. a minor altercation followed when we pointed out that there was no need to queue at counters where samples of spanish snacks were being handed out. we didn’t win. partly because everyone was too polite and she was twice my size and blocked my way towards the food.

we sought solace at a nearby pub, tried new spirits, and moved onto asian baked goods. on our way back he mentioned that he should check out a suit store, strangely located amongst a residential block on the fringes of town, where he maybe able to get replacements or fixes for the nigel hall trousers that i got drunk and tore once upon a time.

we didn’t get it, but met danny (who had a hearing aid) and john (who was wearing a wrinkled three-toned shirt with a generous waist), who, despite not selling smalls in knitwear, did their best to be helpful to this bright young lad of customer who had only dipped his toes into the world of merino wool and fine silks.

when we got back, he called his mother to find out how his granny is. turns out she’d been having mini strokes, had a turn for the worse and is now paranoid and hallucinating. his mother fears for the worst and he decides to leave to see her tomorrow.

i cancel our dinner plans and we ended up at the shoddiest takeaway ever, snug in the gilthy alleyway of soap street popularised by indebted students and the benefit crew alike. the curry was greasy but good, the service excellent. we marvelled at their daily specials and it becomes our “old faithful” within the space of an hour.

i will miss him when he goes tomorrow. but for now, i sip camomile and smile at him. i need to put more effort in to look less wary.

i’m not wary. it’s just my face.

however much i’ve programmed myself to distance, whatever preoccupies me, i’m not above being human. i’m thankful for that. and i glow. and he does too.

and maybe one of these days, a charming open-minded black man will too.

Law firms are like women -they like you to tell them that they’re the only one for you, even though you both know that it’s not true.

ohh..

how things change overnight – I found out about it on my first day back, after all the dilemmas about life. which, fair enough, haven’t yet been completely solved but at least i’m not firmly under the category of “going nowhere”

i have found other things to stress about. intimate dinner party at mine & 1 drops out. i seem to always want to have everyone like me. and i get really bothered by every little criticism or lack of 100% support. why do i crave attention so much?

in short, he told me to get my skates on. i called him for advice about the HK legal market and career prospects there (or here, i forget & it no longer seems to matter as when i’m in one place the other seems little more than a dream) he briefly outlined that well, the HK market is nowhere near as bad as in london (he’s not sure about Manchester, but given how little he thinks of a degree from the uni here is, it does not seem relevant to hime anyway). he then went on to say i could maximise my language skills here. i told him where i was, career-wise, and he sounded grim. his plan of action for me therefore was to a) get researching & applying for a conversion, b) perfect my mandarin and c) apply for a training contract here.

the rest of that day was ruined, to put it mildly. but his words stayed with me. uncle andy also tried to persuade me to head back. he sang praise of the city and told me he could get us both a job here, we just need to work hard. on the flip side of that, he reminisced about manchester (except that i don’t know a good synonym for reminiscing that has negative connotations). what a shithole it was (and is for us?)

i am really bothered about all this. i care deeply what others think. and in a way, this is not just a personal vice. what others think form the basis of my likelihood of having a successful career. it always will be this way. and the most that the devil’s advocate can come back with is that i can change what others think. but i judge things base on how i would feel and react if i was in the situation, and given how stubborn i am and how preconceptions stick, i hold little faith in that blue-sky thinking.

in that way, maybe i’m better off here where people fight stereotypes and prejudices consciously and make an affirmative effort to say, well, she might not be Oxbridge but we are “diverse” and there are other things she can bring to the table etc.

a big part of why i’m so bothered is that none of this is really news to me. i knew this, i pushed it down in the past ears, chossing instead to hear the hopeful words from those like Judith. she is right, in Menai Bridge and in social work. adam says i shouldn’t think that just because i’m considering change it means that the path i’ve chosen thus far is wrong. but how can i not? if by some epiphany i realised all this maybe i could justify it to myself and look forward to this change. but as it is, all this had been advised to me at the time when i chose to stay in the UK.

i doubt myself a lot.

an interesting thing happened though. my parents made huge effort not to be overly themselves when i was back. i was allowed to sleep with adam, no comments were made about how much i was shopping, and no questions asked about when i would head home. that’s a lot. but i still managed to have one of our traditional fights with my dad. it’s been nearly a week and the details get lost, but the resultant emotions are consistent with every other fight we’ve ever had and stay branded, in my nightmares if not elsewhere.

adam stayed up and dissected the minutiae with me, and we figured that i was fairly reasonable and shouldn’t worry too much about it. but the fact is, it still happened and there was little else i could do to stop it without  being suffocated and living what i feel would be a lie.

that little bickering incident confirmed my instincts to stay in the UK in the first place. but still, i felt/and still feel like i am running away when i do this. adam thinks maybe therein lies the reason i chose the path i did and due credit should be given for it. the fact that i didn’t want to live with my parents (a reality if i were to move back after the LPC given the money situation) was valid enough. my life was more than just my career. and in retrospect, i don’t think we would’ve stayed together had i moved, and i’m happy with him.

i don’t know who i am and i don’t know what i want, in the grand scheme of things. and i think that accounts for why my attempts at securing a training contract has been so lacklustre. i forget all too frequently that this is a stop gap, but a necessary one. my eyes still lit up when i read that a lifestyle magazine was looking for interns. i knew what i wanted, but along the way i got distracted the lost focus.

law, a training contract, financial security. and in turn, independence and options.

there are other things i can do now, that i know make me happy. they all share a common thread in that i feel more productive and feel more like i’ve lived life when i do them.

i may not know what i want but i know i want to be thin. the jenn i knew loved her body and could get away with obscure fasion. she was only ever in her skin when she was pretty and had that to gloat about. shallow, but significant nonetheless.

i love travelling, i love food. pole-dancing will always be my sport of choice. i will do them where money permits.

i am stubborn, i see the silver lining, i crack jokes and can see the funny side to how shit things are, i am curious, and i love cocktails and strangers (all the more when taken in simultaneous measures).

i love it when i’m busy all the time. i love trying new things, like gorge scrambling and posh countryside spas just to say i’ve done them. i like doing something different like having a top-chef inspired competition to celebrate valentines instead of being taken to have heart-shaped steaks and gifted red and pink products.

i love the drama. adam’s proposal was the paradigm of that.

i need to have closure and finally move in. i want to feel at home in skyline.

that’s all i can think of for now. back to cuddling with adam and warding off the start of the week for as long as i can.

i’ve pulled out of a night out i organised because i’ve not got my act together and i over-commited. i’m still procrastinating. i know i can do it.

i am having trouble controlling my eating. i eat well and then i snack and up eating more than i would than if i just snacked.

mostly it’s down to boredom. but i’m not bored anymore. i need to pull my finger out.

right. i’m off.