It Happened One Night

I went down to Cambridge to visit my sister Moira this week; mom and dad were already planning to go down themselves to see Moi's graduation, and Orla decided to bite the bullet and join us, making it a royal flush of my nuclear family. We don't normally all meet unless it's Christmas, so this was slightly unfamiliar territory- it was also only for an evening, because Orla had to return to London. We all went out to this Thai restaurant in Cambridge which was amazing and actually made me like broccoli, so is obviously lacing the food with crack or something.
But you guys don't care about the food- you all want to hear about the crazy family dynamics! Well, I found out that I am by far the member of the family who sees the other members the least, despite being by far the least financially independent. In a small way this makes me quite proud because it means that I'm my own man and have successfully flown the nest, but it also makes me kind of sad because they all have a much stronger bond with one another than with me. Case in point: there were three separate in-jokes between the rest of my family of which I had no idea and didn't really understand; they tried to explain them but obviously something got lost in the telling, because I didn't really see the humor. When I expressed some regret at my relative (in both senses of the word) alienation, they were all very quick to point out that, at both points that I was given a chance to get away from them, I chose the furthest possible destination (Edinburgh and Melbourne). Indeed, when I was initially choosing my uni, I made no qualms about the fact that I wanted to be very removed from my parents at least, so I wouldn't have to see them.
If I could go back to that time now, I'd slap myself for saying that.
Not that I regret going to Ediburgh, but I really didn't appreciate my parents, or my sisters, until recently. Being reminded of that comment provided me with a very powerful reminder of how much I've changed over the past four years, as well as highlighting how my previous petulence has cost me- I feel somewhat removed from my family, especially when we all gather together.

While we were together, an interesting point of which I myself have made note several times: there are no photos of us as children after the time that I turn five (which is when the last of us stopped being cute). My parents, never the sentimental type, had not seen this as a problem, until they went to my mother's university reunion and all the attendees decided to pass the time by showing each other pictures of their offspring and my progenitors realised that they were indeed in the minority in being quite so blaise about capturing their children's likeness. My father tried to rectify this oversight while in Cambridge and take as many photos as possible; sadly, his photographic technique is to keep the camera in the same place and move his head around, hoping this will chane the angle of the picture being taken. Shockingly, this does not work, so I'm not hopeful about the quality of these images, but it's nice to know that there will be some documentation of the Kelly siblings coexisting for the future.

To get to Cambridge, I had to take an overnight coach to London- I was looking forward to Clark Gable style shenanigans, involving spontaneous singing, the walls of Jericho and lessons on how to hitch-hike.

How to stop a car.

Instead, I got a supposedly former alcoholic (his words, not mine) who downed a bottle of cider in front of me, kept saying how he was going to London to get smashed, and then treated me to a diatribe about how allowing Muslims to remain in Britain was a clear example of 'political madness gone wrong'.
However, going through London did mean that I got to see two West End shows: Let the Right One in, which was beautiful, haunting and innovative, and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, which was fine, but criminally wasted Samantha Bond, which soured me against it somewhat.

In other news, I went to the Highland Show with Grace and Carolyn the other week, and it was amazing. There were sheep, and birds of prey and coos, which are distinct from cows by merit of their accent.

There were more photos from this event, but sadly they were on a phone which I lost. I'm beginning to think that maybe my family isn't meant to take photos.
On top of the animals, there were free samples of deliciously organic food, a harrier jet flight simulator, a burger that came with a side of steak and a cute guy (sadly, pictures were lost again) who told me all about various medieval weapons, whom I later met again outisde HMV, which I'm ofiicially taking as our meet cute.Yes, the Show was awesome, and that awesomeness squared by the fact that it was probably one of the last times I'll hang out with Carolyn, who left Edinburgh over the weekend.
More and more fourth years are leaving by the week, for obvious reasons- this week is also when  graduations take place, so that number is only going to grow from now on. I'm trying to see everyone before they depart, but I know that some of them are going to slip through my fingers; I just have to hope that in forty years, I can see them again at a reunion and fail to show them pictures of my offspring.