Overall the experience was just that - an experience. A lot of the time I felt like someone out of Harry Potter, with this silly gown and hat on. Apparently it looked even more Harry Potterish when I clambered through the trees to the beach in my gown. Some of the lecturers were acting as stewards to show the graduates where to walk, and they were all carrying big metal wands, which really did look like something out of Harry Potter, especially as they were gowned up too. Although, I believe we had more lecturers attending the ceremony than any other ceremony. Which is quite good.

I had some nice chats with a few of my lecturers afterwards, and I visited my supervisor the day before. My old supervisor was embarrassing when she started talking to my Mum afterwards. She was my supervisor with my dissertation in my 3rd year, and as many readers will know, this period wasn't exactly the smoothest of times in my life. My supervisor, for a variety of reasons, became an important support mechanism. Anyway, she was telling my parents how proud she was of me, for getting through everything and for coming out with a 2:1. I just blushed and started talking to someone else. But thinking back, I don't think I could have done half of what I did without the support of so many friends and family. So I'd just like to take this opportunity to say a big THANK YOU. Whether you cooked a meal, sent a card, gave me a hug, lent a listening ear, took me to pizza hut or were simply there - you helped. As my supervisor once said, I had a football stadium full of supportive people, and I'll never forget that.*

After sitting through the boring ceremony and using all available trees, beaches and backdrops for photos, I was relieved of my silly gown, and we went down to Bracklet Bay for a very nice meal. I ate loads of yummy food and drank more than my share of wine, and it was good :) As co-incidence would have it, about 6 of my friends from my course had also chosen the same restaurant for a celebratory meal, so it was nice to have another chance to say hello and goodbye to them!

And I thought you might like to see some pics...

* Apologies if you don't have a clue what I'm talking about!

What sparked this little rant was when I nearly got knocked out by a plane of glass this afternoon. I was cycling along slowly because I was trying to find a specific shop along the road, and I wasn't exactly sure where it was. I then spotted it on the other side of the road, so I pulled over and stopped about 1.5 metres behind a parked van. The van was obviously a window fitting business, and it had a rectangular piece of glass attached to the side of the van, sticking out about half a metre behind the end of the van. Before I had chance to dismount my bike, to cross the road to the shop, the van started reserving fairly quickly. The glass and the back of the van was coming straight at me. I frantically tried to move myself and my bike backwards as quickly as possible, but I couldn't keep going backwards at the same speed as he was coming towards me. And I think I must have been in his blind spot. There was a guy over the road who spotted this situation and started shouted 'WOAH!!!' to the van driver. I don't think he noticed, but thankfully he didn't continue reserving, and pulled out forwards, enabling me to breathe a sigh of relief. But as you can guess - it didn't do my general opinion of drivers any favours.

I'd cycled up the hill after work to go to the alternative worship service, and because I'd got out of work late then I was late for the service, but I sneaked in and sat on the floor in the middle. As I recovered physically from the effort of getting myself and my bike up the hill and entered into the spirit of the service, I lay down. It soon became clear that most of the service was made up of stations around the church. Given that I had missed the explanation and didn't quite have the energy to walk around the church yet, I opted to stay where I was - soaking up the background music.

I'd been lying on the floor with my eyes closed for a minute or two, when I opened them. And found myself looking at the crucifix from below. This Anglican church has a fairly large, Catholic-looking, cruxifix handing from the ceiling at the front of the church. The front of it, being brought up in a low church, really doesn't do anything for me. Its far too fancy and cringe-worthy for my liking. But from where I was lying I could see the back of the cross, as it hung dramatically above me, and Jesus' armpits; and it was strangely spiritually stimulating. It was a wow moment, when I first saw it. And then I could use it as a centre point in my thoughts and prayer. I think it was the way it was hovering above me (if it had fallen, the base of the cross would have landed on my legs) and the way it was completely unplanned, than specifically the armpits. But still, the holy sweat glands caused some laughter in the pub afterwards.

If you'd have asked me a month ago how I would manage without internet for a month, I would have been sceptical. Negatively. When I have access I am usually on it whenever possible. Even if its on in the background in my room, as I'm busy doing other things. Its usually a main method of communication, both for offical things and for keeping in touch with friends; and of course, I like to keep up with online events. But suprisingly, I've enjoyed, in some respects, not having access. When you can't get online, the temptation to do so disappears, and you can embrace real life without feeling tied down to a computer. Freedom. Oh course, there have been many things that I have been resticted with - Important emails, keeping in touch with friends and accessing information are just some to name. But there is a world outside the internet you know?! I've been phoning friends, referring to the yellow pages (the actual paper copy!) for reference and apologising for not being entirely up to date with the important emails. And despite not being able to spend time online, which often takes up a reasonable amount of my week, I've still been busy! Although that has mostly been due to having a house to sort out and furniture to buy, I have also enjoyed socialing and spending time with my new housemates.

So, now I'm back online. And I think, I'm going to try to cut down on my useage. I'll still check stuff fairly regularly. But now I'm living in a house with friends rather than 'people I happen to live with but don't really know', I can spend more time socialising with them and enjoying real life, rather than staring at a computer screen all day. Or at least, thats the plan.

Show of Hands was in Pontardawe Arts Centre, and I went with Mountain Boy, YC, B, Ramblin' Folkie and Mr Folkie (and we found P\&P there). The venue has everyone sitting round tables on the ground floor, and the 8 of us were sat together on a table of our own, which was cool, especially when it led to some timely giggles. Show of Hands were on top form, with an impressive 10 instruments between the 3 of them (Miranda Skyes came on for the second half), all of which were played with fantastic skill.

Next was Billy Bragg. Its a long story, but basically A and I got complementary tickets courtesy of the venue. And very good tickets at that - right in the middle, about 8 rows from the front, in a large hall. Billy was great. I'm used to hearing his songs at silly am, on a friend's guitar, at SCM events. But he was right there, with his music, political views and anecdotes - and the hecklers weren't in short supply! When starting with The World Turned Upside Down and finishing with A New England you can't go far wrong!

Finally was Kate Rusby. I'd never heard her live - I listen to her music regularly from my itunes, and heard she was something else live. But wow. She was absolutely amazing. It was in the same large hall, but this time we were sat in the second row from the front!!! She really was right in front of us! I went with a KateVirgin, which was cool because she thought she was great too. She had a very good, natural rapport with the audience too - although unlike the previous two nights, there weren't any hecklers (coincidence or difference in audiences??). The best bit was the encore when she sang The Village Green Preservation Society and Sandy Denny's Who knows where the Time Goes.

Anyway, I decided to remind myself of why I'm going to all of this effort:
* To get away from the Stupid Busy Road, which almost gets me killed everytime I cross it.
* To have somewhere that feels like Home, instead of just a room where my stuff happens to be.
* To have housemates that I can socialise with and actually say more than 'hello, how are you?' to.
* To live the Other Side of the city, where most of the friend's I've made here are based, so I don't have to cycle for half an hour in order to see anyone.
* To live in a house (which has stairs!!!) rather than a flat.
* To have a garden - which even has a compost heap in it!!! (I got quite excited about this, so I've been put in charge of it! :) )

I just which I could click my fingers and have moved! On a brighter note, I've been lucky enough to have a Mini Festival of gigs this week. I've seen Show of Hands and Billy Bragg on Wednesday and Thursday of this week, and it finishes tonight with Kate Rusby! What this space - I'm planning to blog a review of all three when I'm in Manchester.

* NB: Sore feet are due to going out in silly shoes, rather than the virus that causing the other symptoms.

For a little while I was attending both churches. But around my shifts, this grew increasingly more difficult. I can go to the alternative worship church after a day shift in work, and even after some weekends away. The only time I tend to miss services is when I'm on nights. Whereas the Methodist church service not only requires me to not be working, not be away, but also awake! If I've worked several long shifts in a row, and then I have a day off on Sunday, I'd often not wake up till after 10am, making getting to a 10.30 service (20 minutes walk) interesting! Consequently I haven't been there since Christmas. I do feel a little bad about this, like I'm going against my roots and all I've previously known. But on the other hand, it doesn't feel like my church. It never has done.

This alt worship church, although separate to the parish church its held in, is part of the local diocese and its official 'leader' is one of the vicars from the parish church. In practice the vicar doesn't do a huge amount to lead it, I've never known him to lead a service and he even delegates the job of chairing the recently formed church council meetings. And services don't bear any resemblance to traditional Anglican services. Its kinda ecumenical, although most members could be classed as 'post evangelical'.

Because of the close connection with the parish church, we're often invited along to events and special services there. The alternative worship church didn't have a service on Easter Sunday, so I went along to the Anglican service instead. Being a Methodist, I'm not used to the 'bells and smells' (as a friend puts it) of traditional Anglican services. But my friends were going, so it felt the natural place to go, rather than the Methodist church which I haven't been to since Christmas.

And its just a bit odd. All my life I've been involved in the life of a Methodist church. Except now. On the other hand, the alt worship church feels right for me at the moment. As much as I love a traditional Methodist service, they can get to the point where they rarely stimulate you. And around my shifts, both spiritually and physically, the 'God time and space' that the alt worship church provides, is often just what I need. Especially after a Difficult Week in work. As well as stimulating me spiritually, its also provided me with a friendship group, a boyfriend and a house (which has just about been confirmed!).

I was visiting the Almost House on Sunday and had gone out for dinner with the Almost Housemates before we started making our way separately to church. I was on my bike and they were in the car, so they agreed to take my bag for me, and meet me there. I set off on my bike, with my map, before realising that my big thick cycling gloves were in the bag that was in their car. I thought I'd be ok.... until it started snowing. And my hands went numb. Changing gear with your arm muscles is interesting... Then I got lost. My map showed clearly a cycle path coming off the road, and towards the town, but I couldn't see it in real life, at all. After a quick phone call to my new guy and he told me you had to cycle through a block of flats car park to find it, I got over that hurdle. Don't ask how I managed to use a phone with numb hands, I'm not sure myself. Then it went ok for a few minutes, I didn't know exactly where I was going, but I could work it out. I reached the outskirts of the centre, and was just negotiating a Big roundabout (thankfully via the pavement / subway), when my bike stopped. Completely. It made a clang, and then refused to move. I clambered off, and soon realised that one of my elasticated spider things which secure bags on the back, had come off and wrapped itself around the back wheel spokes. I flipped my bike upside down and tried to remove it, but with numb hands and in the snow and dark, it wasn't going anywhere! I rang my boyfriend back (I was also meeting him at church, supposedly within 5 minutes by now) and after talking about it, we figured the best thing to do for me to lock up my bike where it was, and for me to go straight to the pub next to church and warm up.

So I left my bike at this roundabout, and walked the 20 minutes or so across town to the pub where I warmed up with hot chocolate and cider (not together!). Thankfully I happened to have a spare, although muddy, set of clothes, in my bag. So as soon as the service finished, I got my bag back and was able to get some dry clothes on. My hands had impressively warmed up before I made it to the pub, thanks to my fleecy jumper, but my jeans were soaked through with freezing water. With the dry jeans, lovely friends and a bit of jumping around, I soon got the circulation going properly again.

My bike was slightly more interesting. Its booked in for a (complementary) service in the shop it was bought from on Wednesday. So I figured that they could fix the back wheel. If I could get it across town, with a disabled wheel. And when I was working 12 hour shifts Monday and Tuesday. Theres a reason I called my new guy fab - I gave him the keys, he retrieved it, removed the elasticated spider thing, cycled it to the bike shop, booked it in for the service, and even remembered to tell them about the slightly dodgy second gear! :D So all I have to do tomorrow is collect it.