On the road

"Go on Mem, blog this car journey. Go on it'll be funny," said Amber this morning as I drove her up the steps to the graduate studies faculty here at Gazpacho University. Our car journeys are fantastic. One of those fleeting, finite, protected times where no-one can interupt and you really feel like you are making progress. Too bad I keep ending up at work... But all progress is good, just ask a scientist.
Anyway, this particular morning Amber bowled up sleepily, full of gossip and cold. We decided that we *hate*:

• Joe Simpson and anyone who does not adhere to the countryside code
• Credit card adventurers / people with more money than sense / own more than one car
• Pert, thin, younger girls who wear high heels and sparkelly tops
  
• People who tell us off for late nights/ say we look knackered.
  

We also caught up on who fancies whom, the social dynamic amongst Leamingtonians (the lazy, the fab and the people with 'other interests') and the finer points of Touching the Void - but that's a whole other post. Suffice to say Amber *tried* to find some manner of respect if not affection for the troubled 5ft1 8.25 stone failed mountaineer with a PhD in criminal selfishness. She said: "I have a new respect for him," because, it seems, he knows that everyone hates him and carries on regardless. Hmmm.
While this goes on, Amber delecately chews off her crysalis of sleepydom, wriggles free with the aid of makeup (the best kind: its designed to look like she is not wearing any) and emerges gleaming and blushered at the other end. A remarkable transformation only added to by the fact that she was beautiful to start with and the only difference being that the colours are the same as any other day. Makeup as continuity? But, I digress.
Amber also believes that "Everyone, deep down is lovely." "Aren't they though?".
This is one of my favourite things about her, the forgetfulness and optimism, but I had to ask: "What about Joe Simpson?". "Oh, except for him."
So theres hope, then.