Tuesday, 29 December 2009

Fererro Rochers, Quality Streets and Paper Tissue - Clearly Mini-Artists In The Making

So, after months of hearing Mariah Carey christmas songs played over and over and over again, being blinded by the thousands of light-up reindeers on people's front doors and being almost crushed to death in the city centre by prams full of shopping (no children ever in sight), Christmas is over in... a day. Makes you wonder if it's actually really worth all the hype. The week leading up to Christmas was pretty fun, mainly due to Sally's 21st birthday party which came to a bit of a messy but fun end after I discovered I had drank near enough an entire bottle of rum to myself. I should have realised the evening was shaping up to be an exciting night before we had even got there when I managed to direct the taxi man about a mile past Sally's house. For the record, I have been to Sally's house many a time so I am still not quite sure how it happened, but I definitely know me and Rachael had to tramp down Sally's road in the snow for about ten minutes, by which time we were in such hysterics that by the time we arrived everyone thought we were already drunk. Another highlight of the week was my last shift at work when, as it was Christmas Eve and we were shutting for three days, the staff got to take home a bundle of free stuff. As I watched hoards of workers dive towards the reduced shelf grabbing all they could carry, I realised that gluttony is obviously a deadly sin that is not taken in high regard at my work. Then I realised that standing there pretending to be calm and collected would not get me any free pies, so I took a run up and joined in the chaos. All the excitement must have been too much though because when I got home I noticed that quite a bit of the stuff I had taken was not part of the free selection and I had actually just been on a thieving rampage...

Over all, Christmas has been pretty ace this year, with a surprisingly good turn out of gifts also! Kezia got me a ceramic box filled with little bits of coloured card all with different lyrics written on them (I was very impressed with her creative side this year) and that was probably my favourite, along with my new camera, which I have found it hard to part with since it arrived last week. I have managed to take over 400 photos in three days, leading me to thinking I should probably spend less time behind a lens and more time doing... well, anything productive really.

Christmas day was got off to a good start when we opened our stockings in the morning (that's all that was left, our family has very little self control and had opened the majority of the presents on Christmas Eve when Kezia came home from work). This year's haul was rather impressive with the only questionable gifts being a giant Flake EasterEgg and some mulled spices, quite a cut down from the usual pile of Elvis Presley bears, raccoon backpacks and an assortment of other strange gifts. Once Kez had finished work, we headed down to Auntie Sue's, having finally been able to dig the car out of the road and actually leave the confines of Ash Tree Avenue. The main part of the day was spent lazing around, arguing over cheese boards and playing SpotTheIntro. It soon became clear why our family is not a boardgame family after many a dispute over people cheating/people helping other teams/and/or the answers on the gamesheet being wrong. Needless to say, we didn't get to finish it before certain members of the family needed to put it away and make a start on the wine.

I always find the aftermath of Christmas to be the messiest time of year in our house. It's always easy to spot the abode of a primary school teacher given the endless amounts of tissue paper, fancy gift bags and Fererro Rocher papers layered about the place ordered by size, colour and texture. Clearly the limited resources of Bradford schools show themselves when you have to scrounge around your family and friends for their Quality Street wrappers. I personally feel for the poor creative souls in nursery that could have made it as big as Picasso, but instead of acryllic paints the only materials they had to work with were the empty Celebrations tins and the metal containers of a mince pie selection box (and even then it was only the Farm Shop's own).

Sunday, 20 December 2009

Do I Look Like I Need Help Packing?

What is it about early mornings that make people want to die? I have only been back at work for three days and already I am sick to death of waking up in the freezing cold and having to get dressed and trudge to work in the snow. (Well, I've only had to walk once so far, but I skidded down my drive and ended up in a heap of snow, so all in all it was quite a traumatic journey). This morning was rather stressful, as mornings go. For some reason, I decided it would be appropriate to set my alarm clock for 8am, quite a ridiculous thing to do given that my shift actually started at 8, so I was already late before I'd even crawled out of bed. It then took me about ten minutes to scour my bedroom for a water bottle, accidentally taking a swig of Malibu and eventually giving up and heading out the door and towards the car. To my annoyance, the entire windscreen had frozen over and I had to go back up the icy drive of death, back into my house, and boil the kettle so I could defrost it. I have since learnt that this apparently could crack the window and so from now on I am going to use actual de-icer. Anyway, once that was done and dusted I tried to open the door and actually get into the car - clearly I was aiming too high as the door was frozen solid shut, cue another trip for the kettle. After ten minutes of pouring boiling water all over the door and the lock, I realised that the reason the door wasn't opening was because I had double-clicked the keys and the door had actually locked again... I stomped back into the house with the kettle and proceeded to drive to work, only hoping the day was going to get better. I hadn't even unbuckled my seatbelt in the carpark when I realised I had left my uniform at home and had to drive all the way back to get it... Miraculously, I made it onto the counter for 8:36am, which I don't think is bad considering all the hiccups. And for the record, the day didn't get particularly better, partly due to an embarrassing incident involving an order for Christmas pies... Every year, we have to take orders for pies as apparently it is some kind of Christmas tradition to have a stand pie on the day itself (never was in my household, but you know, apparently), and it is probably one of the most tedious routines ever. As well as the order, we are required to take everyone's name, number, address, and their decision as to whether or not they would like to be put on the mailing (the fact that we even have a mailing list is question enough for me, but I'm just doing my job). So anyway, this woman who works in the shop, Janet, comes to order her stand pie and I don't ask for her name because, after three years of speaking to her, I know her name is Janet and that she works in the shop. So I take her order, give her the reciept, exchange small talk etc. etc. etc. and move on. Five minutes later, one of my trusty co-workers comes over, 'Did you just do an order for Pauline?' - I know what you're thinking, who the fuck is Pauline? But yes, Janet apparently goes by the name of Pauline to everyone but me. Excellent. I had to rush upstairs and ask for the reciept back telling her I'd spelt her name wrong. She asked how, and I said that instead of P-A-U-L-I-N-E, I had accidentally written J-A-N-E-T. Sometimes I wonder how I get through the day.

Despite work, life is going rather swimmingly. I went to Lauren and Kelly's on Thursday and lazed around watching telly and eating ASDA chicken selections. It was a fun day until I had to leave; by which time the snow had turned into an actual blizzard and we waited at the bus stop for an hour before deciding that the buses had obviously stopped running and we were going to die. I ended up having to pay a tenner for a taxi which was rather annoying, as was the man driving it. There were some tit-head chavs in front of us doing skids and turns on the ice in their stupid car, to which the taxi driver remarked, 'looks like lots of fun, huhh?' It did not, and I was extremely scared that he would take my silence as encouragement, but thankfully he did not. He did, however, conveniently drop me outside the pub, so I went in, got a drink and waited until other people arrived. I also ventured out into the arctic to go to the pictures last night with Paul. We went to see St. Trinian's 2 (I can't be cool all the time) so that was fun, plus he had already bought me a coke and some M&Ms by the time I got there which made life all the more exciting.

Nothing much else is happening, other than I have a new found hate for boy scouts who ask if you would like help with your packing in Morrisons. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't, so why am I obliged to say yes and then put two quid in your stupid little bucket?! The world is quickly heading downhill, and unfortunately I seem to be going with it.

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

"Listen Nana, F*ck Off Right!"

Finally, the time has come and my essays are 100% finished, referenced and handed in. I had a feeling of relief for a whole ten minutes before I remembered I had two novels to read and a presentation to work on. Last week was a good week though; Kezia, Gemma, Sarah, my mother, Auntie Sue and Baz came to visit Chester - Gemma had the added benefit of getting to travel down in the car with my mother, SatNav and all, for a whole two hours, arriving unacceptably ten minutes after the SatNav's scheduled arrival time of 8:19. I took Kez, Gem and Sarah to the SU on Friday and showed them what they had been missing out on all this time... two bars, a tiny dance floor, and a lot of sweaty people. Still, we had a fun night and ended up walking into town to get pizza which was good, albeit the fact that I had to walk there in Sarah's size 5.5 heels because her feet were hurting and I was the only not wearing shoes that would find it difficult making it through customs due to the size of their heels. I woke up on the Saturday morning to the sound of Jayne being sick and calling work, pretending to be someone else and saying she couldn't make it in. She was then told that the employee's 'friend' was not a liable source and therefore had to ring back, in a brand new voice, and claim that she had been 'throwing up all night'... Any employer would be lucky to have her. We all went for a 'family meal' on Saturday night and then to the pub, which would have been more fun had I not been missing the X Factor final at time, but as is life.
I'm now back in Bradford (after a two hour car journey of listening to nothing but my mother argue with the SatNav) and had my first shift back at work yesterday. There was a new character behind the counter called Karen with whom I spent most of the day slagging off the new shop layout. It was only when my shift was over at 4 that someone told me she was actually the new deli manager... brilliant. Starting to wonder what the appeal ever was in Bradford; went shopping in Leeds today with Kez and on the bus back had the misfortune of sitting behind two chavs, in matching chavvy attire (romantic, I know), and watching the lad try to impress the girl with various tales from his life including how his cousin 'Kyle' beat up a cage fighter when he was started on at a party the other week. He then continued to describe an argument he'd had with his nan over getting out of bed to go to work... 'so I was like, "listen Nana, fuck off right, don't start with me" and she was like, "don't swear," so I was like, "I'll fuckin' swear if I fuckin' want to" ' and so on and so forth went the argument. He also called Thornton a 'bag of wank'... Fortunately, by the time their stop came, the girl looked like she was ready to open the window and throw herself out before the bus came to a complete stop, so I guess that holds out some hope for humanity in the future, doesn't it?

Monday, 7 December 2009

Unauthorised Advent Calendar Openings: 0, Self Control: 1

It's 5:36am and instead of finishing my essay like I should be, I am sat on my bed, staring out of the window and listening to Whitney Houston. Probably not the most productive of activities, but at least I'm happy. The main reason for my good mood is the new layout of my bedroom, which is, worryingly, probably the most exciting thing to happen since the rat incident. Tonight's rearranging was a lot more successful than the other night when I accidentally trapped myself and Jayne in my bedroom and then, after about three hours of hard grafting, decided I didn't like it and moved it all back...Tonight though, after a lot of pushing and pulling, and some very questionable noises from Megan, we managed to switch the positions of my bed and my wardrobe so I can now run into my room and leap straight onto my bed, which might not seem that great now, but when I've had a bad day, not having to do the slight turn that I usually would makes all the difference in the world. It wasn't easy though - trying to manouver a double bed in a tiny room filled with five people isn't the easiest of tasks... makes me wonder whether having a big bed is really worth it, especially when I'm not even using it for fun things. Oh well, at least it is stable, unlike Megan's, which we discovered was broken earlier on when I lept on it and the middle of the mattress completely sunk in... I refuse to believe it was me that broke it, even though I was leaping around on it, and I did put a chair in the middle and then sit on it.

Very little else has happened recently, most of us have been struck down in the prime of life by essays/debates/presentations and the likes, although the arrival of an artificial Christmas tree has done quite a good job of calming the atmosphere. I have decided I should maybe start thinking properly about my presentation seeing as we having been 'working on it' since September and I have yet to start... I was in the library the other day and happened to see a group from my lecture all sat around a massive table making charts and slides for their amazing presentation - slightly worrying. I wasn't even there to do work, I was taking things back and paying a fine, which just added to my feeling like a failure. Although, I bet their bedrooms don't look as good as mine.

Essays and presentations aside, everything at the moment seems to be going good - Kez, Gemma and Sarah are coming to visit next week (along with my mother and Auntie Sue) so that should be fun, we can get drunk and I'll be able to prove that Chester Uni pisses all over Swansea, Leeds and Manchester =) That's only Friday night though, I'm not entirely sure how I am expected to entertain my mother on Saturday; there's only so much time a "cultural trip around the walls" will take up, and after that the only other thing I can think of is the zoo. I'm not sure how impressed my mother would be trudging around a zoo in the rain watching monkies eat their own poo, but I will suggest it anyway.

Monday, 30 November 2009

The Blacks Will Be Grey, And The Whites Will Be Grey, But The Blues Are Still Blue

New Years Resolutions:
  • At least try and have an average body clock - do not stay up till 7am for no reason
  • No one is forcing you to be at university, so do not moan about essays or any other kind of assessment. Sit down, shut up, and write
  • Try and accept the fact that Jayne will be gone for a year, and do not sit and swear at her continuously for two hours
  • Stop eating crap - ice cream, coffee and ginger nuts do not constitute as a proper meal
  • Stop being a dickhead
  • Consider small life plan

Although the sooner rectified the better, the above things are acceptable until December 31st, which is thankfully 4 weeks away, better giving me the chance to prepare myself for the person I am about to become. Should probably not swear at Jayne for two hours again though, not sure I would be able to get away with it twice... Hopefully I'll be able to practice my self-control this year and not eat the entirity of my advent calendar in one go as a "midnight snack".

The past week has been pretty uneventful - or, at least, I think it has. I seem to have been in a world of my own recently with little to no clue what's going on around me, leaving essay deadlines and presentation work to creep up on me without my realising... I was aware enough, however, to notice the giant bastard of a rat that suddenly entered my life the other night. Me and Jayne were casually crossing the bridge over the canal when, low and behold, a gigantic monster leapt out from a dark corner. Needless to say, we shat ourselves and legged it up the street, hoping to God that it wasn't following. Thankfully, we escaped, only now I am left with a horrible sensation everytime I see something that is smaller than a cat, whether moving or motionless, and seems for a split second to be that exact same rat.

We also had a minor hiccup with the fire alarm last week after it went off for no reason at all - seriously, there wasn't even a pair of hair straighteners on. Not only did it blast out at a ridiculously high volume, it continued to do so for the next thirty minutes until our landlord came round and opened the machine up, eventually shutting it off and leaving us all to feel like we had spent the last three days at a Slipknot concert. Thankfully the stress levels weren't too high as Alex was busy dressing up as a bear for work (no lie: suit, head, paws - the whole deal) and Megan was out buying a carpet...

I wish I had something else of worth to say, but alas my life at the moment consists of essays, essays, Strongbow, and more essays.

Oh, and two creme eggs.

Monday, 23 November 2009

Life Lesson #75 - Don't Sit Infront Of Sleeping Men On Coaches

Note To Self: When there is a man sleeping behind you on a coach, make sure not to put your head all the way back on the seat. I found this out the hard way when going home on Friday as the man behind (who was snoring loudly enough to give Siddle a run for her money) unconciously grabbed my head and decided to rest his hand on the back of my seat for the next five minutes. I jumped when he did it too, causing me to involuntarily throw my MP3 played into the lap of the guy sat next to me. Needless to say, it was an awkward three hours sat in a silence tainted with humiliation... Finally escaped when we got into Bradford and hopped on a bus home, only to listen to the conversation of two old men and eventually come to the conclusion that they had a more exciting life than me. One of them even went as far to say that every single night was a great night, going out with his friends and drinking ale. It sounded good to me, he's on the right track.
I went out for lunch on Saturday with Kez and some of her friends, and we went to see New Moon, which is amazing. Edward looks beautiful, Jacob has nothing on him. I think I got a bit too excited though, and my mind was elsewhere all day - more specifically when I left my bank card in the machine in Cineworld and only realised when the film had finished and we were halfway to the carpark. Thankfully, a good samaritan had handed it in and I was reunited with my money, which I was glad about. I wasn't so glad about the bus journey to Paul's house later on, complete with two really annoying chavs who got off at the same stop and kept calling me a 'fucking goth' and asking me if I had my nipple pierced... God knows. I don't think I have ever been happier to see Paul's mum put her head out of the window and come let me in. The night got better from then on, or rather, worse if we're talking in terms relative to alcohol. Within the space of a few hours, I was completely wankered, sat with Lauren and Kel watching Paul sing Cherly Cole on karaoke, and locking myself in the bathrooms for ten minutes because I was scared I had gone into the mens and was afraid to come out incase I was right. Personally, I blame the Tesco's own brand of RedBull we had been drinking beforehand. Apparently, there was 'A Change In The Name, But The Kick Stays The Same!' - not sure what it was meant to be similar to, but it certainly wasn't RedBull. The rest of the night is rather vague, although I do recall ringing Jayne and sending her numerous texts, probably about house rabbits (I'm trying to convince everyone to let me get one for the house, they are amazing, they walk around your house and sit on your sofa like a cat - but they're rabbits!). Then I found Kezia and we decided that if we walked to Morrisons and got a taxi from there, it would be a lot cheaper. Which it was, only we would have to walk forever, and through the prostitute area of Thornton Road, which wouldn't really be that fun... Still, taxi only cost £5.50 - bargain! Totally worth it. Made myself an egg mayonnaise sandwich when I got home to celebrate.
Currently sat at my computer desk trying and failing to write my essay. Definitely starting to feel like I was not cut out for academia. Me and Jayne had a conversation before about how we could stop going to university and just sign on instead. We wouldn't have to get up, or do stupid essays or presentations, we would never be stressed, and we could just "eat and watch New Moon, all day, every day". Sounds a beautiful life, doesn't it?

Sunday, 15 November 2009

Two Chinese Lesbians, A Sex Toy, And More Than One Octopus. Does Life Get Any Better?

Before I started university, all people spoke to me about were things like how to go four weeks without washing clothes, where to get the cheapest alcohol, what to do if you find yourself being faceraped in the middle of Brannigan's, and other student-y things - no one ever told me how much work there would be, how difficult it would be to do, and that I would wind up on the verge of dropping out when I heard the words 'essay deadline'. I went to the library the other day to attempt to find some books that were even slightly relevant to my presentation and, after a fruitless search, decided it would just be better to play some 'introductory songs' - for example, Stairway To Heaven, American Pie, Bat Out Of Hell, or any other song that lasts longer than 8 minutes, leaving only ten minutes for a pointless statement about religion and a Q&A session about Meatloaf and Don McLean. I have also realised that everything I was ever taught about the Romantic poets is wrong, which I found out the hard way in Tuesday's seminar when my tutor let me ramble on for a good ten minutes before stopping me and telling me that everything I was saying was wank. However, on my way out I saw a grown man riding a child's scooter and felt a little better about myself.
This feeling was unfortunatey shortlived - I felt all dignity leave my body as it lay sprawled, face down and covered in cider, on the floor of Brannigan's on Wednesday night. I was helped up by a boy from my Sociology class that I have never met and was, unsurprisingly, the only housemate to go the bed alone.
Thursday passed with little excitement - I had a meeting with my tutor, who did not look anything like I remembered her looking, resulting in me being confused for the entire meeting until realising that the picture I had in my head was actually of Carol McGriffin from Loose Women... Could have been mortifying, but thankfully was not. What was mortifying, however, was having to be dragged home from the SU by Sam and Chris on Friday night as I was somehow unable to hold myself up and very closely resembled an adolescent Bambi. My head felt like it was about to explode this morning and the hangover was definitely not helped by being shown a video consisting of two Chinese lesbians, a sex toy and several octopus. Octopuses. Octopi? Today's exciting events also included McDonald's (yes, exciting), a Mock The Week marathon with Jayne, and Kez calling up in a voice an octave higher than usual and screeching excitedly down the phone that there was going to be a TV program about Enid Blyton. I can guarantee that said program will be the highlight of next Monday and will probably continue to be the highlight of my week. I really hope I am not in my prime.

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

William Blake, I Am Sure You Were Good In Your Day - But I Do Not Give A Shit


It is 4:25am and I have to leave the house for my seminar in just over four hours. Unfortunately, I do not understand anything William Blake is writing about, let alone give a shit, and fear that I may look something like this at around about 9am.
<-----<------<-----<-----<-----<-----<-----<-----
I spent the majority of today's lecture humming Jesus Christ Superstar to myself (your guess is as good as mine) and watching a ladybird walk around on my copy of Work, Consumerism and the New Poor. Now, don't get me wrong, I am sure it is a gripping read, and no doubt Zygmunt Bauman had a hoot writing it, but I was feeling oddly selfless and decided to let the ladybird have its fun while it could (by that, I mean I am pretty sure it pissed on the front cover and was therefore reluctant to pick it up until the lecture was over).

Sunday, 8 November 2009

'Is It Just Me, Or Does That 'c' On The Mince Pie Label Look Suspiciously Like A 'g'?'

When I was at secondary a school a wise, or so I thought at the time, teacher said to me, 'Amy, there's something unique about you, you're going to go far in life'. Judging by Thursday's journey home, I beg to differ. About the going far part, not the unique part - you would have to be uniquely stupid to do what I did. Everything started to go downhill when I was robbed at Chester train station. I'd had a slight bout of homesickness and decided to go back to Bradford for a few days thinking it might make me a little happier. However, homesickness was quickly displaced by disbelief and depression when I had to pay £40 for a return ticket to Leeds - in theory, 96 cans of Strongbow. With a lighter purse, a still drunk Megan and a backpack the size of a small African country, I reluctantly boarded the train thinking the day could only get better. This idea was squished as soon as I sat down and realised I wouldn't be able to get into my house once I got back to Bradford as my keys were in the top drawer of my desk in Chester. Nice one. Thankfully, the rest of the journey ran fairly smoothly until I said goodbye to Megan in Huddersfield and carried on by myself to Bradford. That was when it happened. Instead of giving the man at the train station my 'OUT' ticket, I inadvertedly gave him my 'RTN' ticket - the one I needed to get back to Chester on the Saturday. Had I noticed it at the time, I could have gone back and reclaimed it, saving myself half of the £40 I'd paid for it, and the following £11 I had to pay for a NationalExpress bus back. However, I didn't notice, and am now into minus numbers where my money is concerned, something which shouldn't have happened given that I had around £1,000 only 2 months ago. To top it all off, I dropped my headphone jack down the toilet and as a consequence all my music sounds as if it is being performed by the entire cast of The Little Mermaid...
Fortunately, Thursday night is pub night in Thornton and I was able to drown my sorrows in many a rum and coke whilst listening to my mother witter on about the bane of her life - the new central heating. Apparently, the instruction manual is too complex for her to understand and she keeps having to get out of bed at exactly 1:15am every night and turn it off (she likened it to being as stressful as having a new born baby, leaving me to wonder whether I was some scientific miracle baby that radiated heat at all hours of the night). Things started looking up on Friday when Sally bought me coffee and we sat in Starbucks for the good part of three hours talking about shite and people watching. There was also an amusing incident involving a label for 'mince pie' which had been typed in a We're-So-Posh font, resulting in the 'c' looking incriminatingly like a 'g'... Once I had left Sally I had to sit at the bus stop for ages (I missed the bus I was meant to get, obviously) and listen to a small, clearly-raised-in-Bradford child swearing at its parents (from its pram, no word of a lie) and scream at the top of its lungs about how it refused to go and 'see grandma' unless it could go to McDonalds first... To be fair, 'grandma' was probably only 24 and most likely worked in McDonalds, so I don't see what the problem really was. I forced myself to listen to it until my bus came and then went to the pub with my dad (what? My parents are rock and roll) and contented myself with downing rum, eating curry and watching Peter Kay. Thankfully my bus ride back to Chester today was uneventful and my doom and gloom appears to have evaporated for the time being - however, I am taking a brave step and venturing out of my house to the library tomorrow, so watch this space...

Saturday, 31 October 2009

"How Do You Say, 'Amy, Stop Eating My F*cking Food,' In Turkish?"


insert funny Hallowe'en picture hereI couldn't upload an actual picture as I seem to have misplaced the camera lead somewhere in my bedroom, along with various other important things such as the packet of bobbles I bought the other day, my motivation, and our Tesco clubcard. Actually, not the clubcard, I just remembered we found it sandwiched inbetween the Trivial Pursuit playing cards. We've managed to hit the 600 point mark, which means we've spent roughly around £300 in the past month at Tesco... Admittedly, it was mainly on Strongbow and fake blood, but still.
To say I have only been to one days worth of lectures this week, it has been pretty hectic (translation: I have left the house more than twice). On Tuesday I went out for the first time ever without any of my housemates - I felt like a baby butterfly wriggling out of its cocoon and spreading its social wings. The fact that I went home early because I was scared in no way makes this experience any less special. By Wednesday night though I was back where I belonged, going out with my housemates and then coming home and eating ice cream. Katie's sister was up for a few days so we went out on the Thursday night as well and I learnt the Riverside dance and some other dance which I can't remember the name of, but, rest assured, I looked just as equally ridiculous. However, I somehow managed to smack my head into the side of a bathroom stall and have now forgotten both dances and an entire portion of my childhood memories. I was slightly traumatised for a while but calmed down once I realised Megan was getting chips and gravy on the way home and she said I could have some. We got probably the nicest taxi driver in the world on the way home (although I may be biased in saying that because I was really happy because he charged us 60p less that he should have). He was Turkish and by the end of it he had taught Megan how to say, 'Amy, stop eating my fucking food' - in reality, he probably said, 'you're a drunken mess, please shut up and leave my taxi as soon as possible and I will knock 60p off the fare'. Still, the thought was there.
We went to the SU on Friday night in true Hallowe'en spirit dressed as dead school girls - well, Megan, Jayne and Alex were dead school girls, I was just exceptionally gothic looking with bigger hair than usual. The only downside was getting fake blood on the white bit of the sofa, but thankfully our landlord appears to be quite the puff and had already supplied us with a different sofa cover if we didn't like the pattern of the first one. The new one is 'denim' and dark, which was good news in relation to the party we had last night in that you can't really notice if there is blood/wine/a squished jelly worm on it. To say we thought people wouldn't come, the party turned out to be quite a success, complete with more guests than housemates and three plastic rats. The rats weren't for Hallowe'en, they were in honour of the rat(s) we may or may not have living in our yard and taking food from our binbags. Basically, there was a hole in one of the binbags that looked suspiciously like the outline of a rat and an entire chicken carcass has been carried away, most likely to some kind of rat convention where they all sit around, talk about binbags and eat chicken carcasses. We have also been led to believe that the cheeky bastards helped themselves to some BabyBel cheese, which is quite beyond rude. Thankfully, this coming week is reading week and I can stay in bed all day and pretend that my life is not infested by giant rats. Ace.

Sunday, 25 October 2009

"Fancy a game of hide the sausage?"

Good things to come out of this week:
  • My Tuesday lecture was cancelled due to the (unfortunate) illness of my lecturer
  • I had not devoured all my cheese on Monday night, which enabled me to celebrate said cancelled lecture with cheese and crisp sandwich
  • My science fiction meeting was not actually anything to do with science fiction but instead about next year's academic year possibly being extended by six weeks (possibility of point being void if proposed idea goes through)
  • Megan left the freezer door open for 24 hours, resulting in the defrosting and consequent disposal of four drawers of food (this actually counts as two points as it had comedy value and it wasn't my fault)
  • I found a ten pound note in my coat pocket
However, much of the positive energy created by my successful week evaporated today after I somehow didn't wake up until 4, and then realised, whilst watching Camp Rock, that there are very few things I wouldn't give up to be Demi Lovato. This turned into an out of body experience in which I looked down at myself, surrounded by empty crisp packets and three day old sweet and sour duck, and decided I needed to get my life together. Since then I have watched a hideous horror film resulting in me and Jayne clinging to each other in a manner similar to that of baby koalas, eaten half a tub of ice cream and watched a shit TV program about the train wreck that is Lindsay Lohan... This probably doesn't bode well. On the other hand, today has not entirely lacked productivity. I am, of course, classing my father, who is now back in the country after swanning off to Cyprus for two weeks, ringing me and spending ten minutes on the phone playing me his new ringtones (one of which was the theme tune to Psycho) as a productive use of my time. Also, me and Jayne have discovered a small encyclopedia of euphamisms (such as 'spear the bearded clam') after a boy Megan met on a night out text her saying, 'D'you fancy a game of hide the sausage?'... And people say romance is dead.

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

Life Lesson #74 - Never Take Part In A Ghost Tour

I have about seven novels to read, a presentation to work on and six poems to analyse for tomorrow morning - yet I still managed to spend the last hour watching Age 8 and Wanting a Sex Change. Seriously. That is an actual programme, involving children who refuse to take on board the characteristics of their given gender and convince their parents to let them get a sex change... It is almost as ridiculous as the "Ghost Tour of Chester" me and my housemates took part in on Saturday night, aka "Being Led Around Chester In The Freezing Cold Being Told Its Shit History By An Old Woman With A Torch". Highlights included a long story involving the plague of 1803, a woman using her skirt to parachute from a window (she didn't die in the process, so why bother involving her in the ghost tour?!), two boys leaping off the bridge behind Brannigan's and a car of chavs driving past with the windows down blasting out some kind of hideous 'tune'. 75 minutes and 4 quid later, I realised that this was exactly why Saturday nights were better spent at home, watching X Factor and waiting until 5am for PostSecret to be updated. However, the night wasn't a complete waste of space - we got Chinese and somehow managed to get a party bus taxi home from town. We were outside Alex's work (which she has now quit in order to take on a prestigious position at Build-a-Bear Workshop) when, low and behold, an actual mini bus shows up to take us home. I half expected to be presented with champagne and a karoke microphone when getting in, but alas, we did without.
Right, I am actually going to read some poems as everything I have contributed to my seminar so far has been followed by a, 'yes, that's an interesting idea...', which is really code for, 'you are talking shite, please remove yourself from my eyeline'.

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Just Say No!

I have a feeling that my life would a be a lot easier if I could JustSayNo. Everything was going fine until Thursday morning when a man from "British Gas" (ok, he didn't actually say that he was from there, but I just assumed he was) came round to read the gas and electric metres. I let him in and he was chatting away to us (mainly Jayne when he discovered they went to the same school, he seemed to go off me a little when I told him I was from Bradford...) and took all my details for his form and got me to sign it. It was then I realised he was from a different company and I had just signed the house over to "SouthernElectric". Mint. After he had ruined my life, he left me and Jayne to have a mini freak out (mainly me, as it was ((naturally)) my fault that we were in this pickle) and I ended up having to ring the company and explain the situation (that I was a knob) and could we please cancel and stay with British Gas? They said that was fine and it was cancelled, suspiciously fast I thought, but hopefully it will be ok now.
I am also, through my inability to say no, the set rep for my Brave New Worlds class, which I have since discovered is actually a Science Fiction module - a fact that failed to be mentioned on the sign up sheet. Apparently, I have to go to meetings and actually speak about the module, which makes me want to die a little inside. However, I have told myself to stop moaning and decided to wear spock ears to said meetings and make the most out of it.
I have spent the majority of today not going to my lectures and making a list of things I do which contribute positively to my life. It is worryingly small. However, I found a quid in my coat pocket and pasta packets were on offer in Tesco, so I have come to the realisation maybe the world isn't so bad after all.

Tuesday, 6 October 2009

"Can we turn 'Summer Holiday' up please? I'm getting a right boner here."

I've actually paid (or will pay back in the future) £3,225 to sit in a lecture hall and listen to an actual professional ramble on for two whole hours (no break, no joke) about ficticious planets named Nerg and Niron. Really. I had to share my ideas with the group on how I would go about getting all the Nergs (people from the planet Nerg, if you are unfamiliar with the lingo) to mine their minerals and give them to planet Niron without any form of payment. One girl suggested, with a little too much enthusiasm, that "if we dress some Nirons up as Nergs and have them convince all the other Nergs to mine, we will be victorious!" It was around then that I wanted to die. In the next lecture though we watched an episode of Blackadder, so things got a little brighter and I felt I could loosen the noose. Not that it's evident from the story, but that was a Sociology lecture. My English lectures are a whole different kettle of fish. Our new tutor is clearly insane; the other day she went off on a twenty minute tangent about how she stalks dead people and has seen Wordsworth's actual socks... But she likes True Blood, and is actually hilarious, so we'll let the insanity pass.
Life in the house is going good as we now have actual BT Vision as well as the internet (and yes, it comes with a karoke channel, as I discovered on the morning of its arrival when I was woken up by Megan's harrowing rendition of Hit Me Baby One More Time...) Hopefully Alex will find something better to watch than Summer Holiday, the actual film with Cliff himself, which we were all forced to watch the other day with the volume on loud because she was 'getting a right boner'. Ace.
In other news, I am shit at life. Given that we are clearly greedy but skint, me and Jayne bought a pizza from Tesco and, for some unclear reason, I was left in charge of putting it in the oven. Bad move. Apparently, when you don't use the free baking tray, the pizza turns less 'pizza' and more 'cheese and pepperoni surprise'. Good one, Amy.

Monday, 28 September 2009

Kill Me, Kill Me, Kill Me, Please Don't Stop

Sad as it sounds, I am inexplicably excited by the fact that all residents of my house are now ON THE INTERNET! And all it took was three weeks, some money and a little man to come round and fix the line (obviously it didn't work first time we tried to install it - why would it in our house?).

Today was the first day of term after a pretty alright Fresher's week - I woke up on the first morning and entered the living room in search for food only to be greeted by a shrine of pictures of the Siddle family... not entirely sure why they were there (or why they are still there a week later) but, along with Alex's flower display, they did brighten up the living room a bit. What they did not brighten up, however, was my beast of a hangover that has stayed all week and has now just turned into full-on flu... well, a very bad cold at least. The rest of Fresher's week has been mostly a blur of Strongbow and feeling shit - nice one. I did go and see the Veronicas on Friday with Naomi though; it was one of the best gigs I've ever been to (despite me and Naomi standing in the queue for 45 minutes, only to realise it was the queue for Florence and the Machine and not the Veronicas... Not only did we have to leave the queue embarrassed, we had to then stand in the correct queue whilst everyone from Florence and the Machine stared at us and snickered. Nice one.)

Nothing much else rivetting has happened, today was basically just first lectures and enrollment - I had a minor panic when my form said 'Amount For Student To Pay: £3,225' but then the lady crossed it out and it was fine. To be honest though, it would not have surprised me in the slightest if I'd had to cough up three grand on my first day.

Thursday, 17 September 2009

"Oh, By The Way, There's A Mystery Switch In My Room..."

So, after almost two weeks of not having a working TV, we now have one, complete with working digibox thing. Apparently, the mystery switch under my bed that I hadn't told anyone about was the switch to turn on the ariel... I was extremely popular with Jayne once she realised we could have been watching TV since we moved in... Our landlord came around the other night to go through some things and help us get the washing machine working - we'd filled it with clothes and washing powder a few days before, only to realise that it was a pile of crap that didn't work. There didn't seem to be any water going in and all it did was spin, occasionally making a noise that probaby shouldn't have been coming out of a home appliance. After sitting motionless and watching it for quarter of an hour, we decided to go to the library and find some help, alas to no avail. In the end we decided to just take the clothes out (after waiting forever for the door lock light to turn off) and leave it for the landlord. He switched the water switch at the back and now it is fully functioning, an exciting prospect in our dull lives. However, it could be slightly awkward the next time he comes around as Jayne wasted no time describing how fit he looks with his beard (which he really does) and then said, "I can't believe he's married!" before we realised he was actually still stood in the hallway putting on his shoes... We should totally write in to the Cringe! page of Mizz... 

Since getting the TV to work (yesterday), all motivation to do anything else has completely disappeared. Jayne decided that I had hit a new low after realising I hadn't moved since Jeremy Kyle had started in the morning and had sat there to watch Ricki Lake, Murder She Wrote, Monk (a "crime drama" apparently), and Countdown.  Things are not looking good for my new Doing-More-Work frame of mind...

Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Stop Stirring Yer Tea, Dick'ed!

So, I am back in wonderful Chester and am more than impressed with my new house. Compared with last years maggot-ridden kitchen, this is actually a mansion. However, we don't have the internet, can't get the TV to work and I have broken my laptop charger, which pretty much leaves little left to do except watch old Phoenix Nights videos and Free Willy 3: The Rescue. Still, it's a lot better than working 42 hours a week and I get to lie in here. Also, Tesco have an offer on on Strongbow (two "on"s sounds weird...) and we managed to get 30 cans for 20 quid - what more could you want?

I am quite missing work; my last day was pretty eventful, mainly because I knocked over a giant stand of Whiskas cat food, but also because the managers finally decided to watch us on CCTV and realise that we actually weren't doing any work. One of the terrible three managers, J, came down and asked if we needed jobs to do because it wasn't very busy, so Rachel, badass 36-year-old that she is, told him we've been "rushed off our feet". J then proceeded to rant on and on about how he'd been watching us fanny around for an hour on the cameras and how dare she answer him back. She then bit back with, 'don't talk to me like I'm a child,' resulting in a harsh 'Rachel. Office. Now.' She was up there for a good ten minutes and came back down looking a little forlorn telling us we all needed to work faster. Obviously, there was nothing to do faster, so I contented myself with walking up and down the counter at speed, touching anything I could see. Actually, I really don't miss it...

Friday, 28 August 2009

There's No Point To Forever Without You


I'm currently trying to ease my hyperventilation by distracting myself from Breaking Dawn and Bella and Edward's marriage (I've recently become obssessed with the Twilight series and it's all I have done/thought about/breathed for the past two weeks). I'm actually in love with Edward Cullen. Actually head over heels in love. It seems no boy will ever be good enough again, because no one will ever be him, and if they're not him... then I don't want to be with them...


Since I've been so side-tracked from my actual life, I can't fully remember the past week or so, however I can't imagine anything riveting will have happened, judging by the fact that the most gripping thing to happen today was a customer wearing braces with pin badges of every type of bird imaginable... (braces for trousers, not teeth - that would be gripping). Unfortunately, customers are not improving; just yesterday I went to serve a man, who was first in the queue, and this snotty, menopausal woman started dropping comments to her mate about how being first in the queue was obviously not taken into consideration in "this place" - I decidedly didn't serve her and enjoyed watching her facial expressions go through the motions as she realised I had heard and was deliberately avoiding her. We've also got a new shop manager who is not quite the bed of roses I would have liked - he decided that my lip ring doesn't compliment the "image we are trying to portray" and made me, after three years of working with it in, take it out. Colleen later saw him grinding the noses of his ten-year-old children to the ground, watching them scrub shelves while chanting 'retail is detail'... I'm quite glad he doesn't linger around the deli much, I almost got caught out today when he walked around the corner and I was half way through tying Rachel's apron to the slicer... Thankfully, he didn't overhear our game of Cruise-Marry-OneNightStand and witness Caite shouting, 'I'd have a one night stand with Saddam Hussain' to a bunch of customers...


Anyway, I am off to read some more Breaking Dawn - I want to finish it before I go back to Chester so I can actually start reading the books on my reading list... I have promised myself to do more work this year and actually read the books, not just watch the film with subtitles and class it as reading... Over and out!

Monday, 17 August 2009

Oh Danny Boy, The Pipes The Pipes Are Calling

Possible ways to explain or escape punishment for the red hair dye on the stairs when my mother returns from Egypt:
  • Question why she is only noticing it now when it has "been there for years"
  • Create similar blotches all the way up the stairs and claim that is the carpet design, and has always been so
  • Cut out cardboard monster feet and place them all the way up the stairs leading to my mother's bedroom, strategically covering hair dye stains in the process
  • Wrap a bandage around Kezia's head and explain she fell down the stairs, spilling tomato soup as she did so. Hopefully sympathy will displace anger

Other than scrubbing away at bright red hair dye stains with hairspray, Stardrops bleach, Vanish etc., nothing much of interest has happened since my last rivetting blog. Note to self: stop doing things that could get you fired at work. I was shouted at today by my ever so friendly boss as she happened to enter the deli area just as I was putting on show my masterpiece (a smiley face, complete with nose ring, drawn onto a pizza base). Apparently, there were more important things to do... I was also informed by my trusty co-worker that when she was in the office the other day, all she could see on the security cameras was me chasing after a helium balloon behind the counter. I then proceeded to pierce it, inhale the helium, and perform a heartwrenching rendition of 'Danny Boy' for staff and customers alike. What a treat.

Saturday, 8 August 2009

Mini Road Trips, and Things Less Exciting

I hate customers:

  • who think the sun shines out of their child's arse, and continue to think this as said child speeds down the counter touching every square inch of clean glass
  • who think that what the label says, goes. 'Can I have an onion bhaji?' 'That's chocolate cake...' 'But the label says onion bhaji...'
  • who are at least sixty-five years of age and ask me if it hurts my boyfriend when I kiss him with my lip ring in, and then give me a creepy wink and ask if we can try it out

I definitely do not get paid enough for this. I have worked 42 hours this week and have had very little sleep over the past two nights. I went out on Thursday night and got spectacularly drunk, so much so that by the time I started at 8am on Friday I was still completely off my face. But it was fun to catch up with my old school gang =) And on Wednesday I went out for a drive with Sally and we saw horses and talked about things, so that was fun. And that's pretty much it for my riveting life at the moment, how for now!

Friday, 31 July 2009

I Hope You Know You're My Favourite Thing About The West Coast

The past ten minutes have probably been some of the most amusing of my short nineteen years of life. I was in the house by myself when the telephone rang, so I answered it to be greeted by some annoying woman asking me to take part in a survey. As I have little to no life at the moment, I decided partake and amuse us both for a while. She spent a few moments figuring out how to pronounce my name - it has three letters, it's not that difficult, but she still managed to get it wrong, and then she went through what she was doing (I still don't really know). She then started listing charities, asking me if I was interested in donating to any. After making it clear that I did not want to support the SeeingEyeDog charity, sponsor an abandoned puppy, donate to the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, adopt a third-world child, or give money to any other charities on her list of about twenty, she yelled 'what the fuck?!' down the phone and hung up. I don't think they'll be calling back anytime soon.

I went to see Jayne on Monday and I was pretty impressed that I managed to get all the way from Bradford to New Brighton and back by myself! And, I made some friends along the way. The first was a man on the Bradford bus; he was foreign and pointed to the empty seat next to me with a quizzical look on his face. I assumed he meant could he sit there, so I said, 'there's no one sitting there', only to be met with a dirty look as he left to sit somewhere else and continued to spend the entire journey turning around and staring at the seat next to me. Then on the way home, I was waiting in the queue, and when the bus drive came a few people went infront of me. A lovely American lady behind me started kicking off, shouting about how we (me and her) have been stood there "like idiots" for ten minutes. She then turned to me and starting ranting about who they thought they were and why did they think we were stood here in the first place? Her frequent use of the word 'we' led everyone else to think I was with her and shun us both. All the excitement made me tired and I fell asleep on the bus, waking up just as it was pulling out of Bradford Interchange... I had to leap up all blurry eyed and ask the bus driver if he would let me off. Thankfully, he did. It was lots of fun seeing Jayne and Sam though, we went to the beach and took some really cool photos and then got absolutely drenched on the way home. I wish I lived near the sea.

Anyway, I still have very little to report as I have not left my house unless to go to work in about two weeks. Our newest member of staff has been keeping me entertained though. She was asking me about my degree the other day and, when I told her I was studying Sociology, she got a little over excited and asked me if that was 'the one where you read people's minds'? I explained that no, that was Pyschology, and I don't think they are actually taught how to successfully read someone's mind. This didn't seem the phase her as she continued to tell me that 'Andrew's daughter', whoever Andrew may be, studied Psychology and was, in fact, learning how to read people's minds. Today hasn't been too bad though, I managed to stay off the counters and play in the big fridge, doing very little work, from 2:00 until 4:30, so that made the day a little more bearable. On my way back, I passed Rachel muttering to herself and leafing through some invoices. She explained to me that she was 'looking important for the cameras'. I really don't know what we are paid for.

To add to all this excitement, my PunkGoesAcoustic CD arrived today, and my polaroid camera, which is amazing! It already had a film in it, which was an added bonus, so I've been snapping away and pinning the photos on my wall because, well, I am just that cool.

Wednesday, 22 July 2009

An Uninteresting Report

I feel as though lately I have nothing to update on other than work... which is very sad to say it is the summer holidays. However, it has been pretty hilarious this week. I was on the counter (not literally on it, just behind it) and this woman came over and was like, 'oh HI!' Not wanting to be rude, I said hello back, and then she continued rabbiting on a little bit, then concluded with, 'it's Kim's daughter, isn't it?' I didn't want to make things awkward, but it had to be said: I was not, in fact, Kim's daughter. How embarrassing for her, I know. She went red and just kind of, siddled away. I then spent the majority of the day annoying Colleen by listing all the things I would do if I won £96million on the lottery. Here's what I came up with:


  • Drop out of uni (who needs a degree when you're rich?), but continue to live in Chester with my friends until they had finished.

  • Buy houses and things for people I like, and make sure all my friends were out of debt

  • Buy a small island

  • Build (or rather, pay professionals to build) my own Jimmy G's style adventure playground for adults

  • Go to a LOT of gigs

  • Find some way of meeting Amy Lee and JK Rowling (I'm not sure how this would be easier achieved if I was rich, but it seems more likely)

  • Travel the entire world

  • Buy a car in America, and drive across the entire country, visiting every single state

  • Buy the Great Barrier Reef (I'm aware is probably isn't for sale, but you know)

There were more, I just can't remember them now. Anyway, that is how I spend my time at work =)


I went to see Harry Potter again last night and it was even better the second time round. It was absolutely packed when we got there, so Paul went and plonked himself down on those two seats alone right at the front so we pretty much had to crank our necks back at right angles to watch it. I shouted at him. But it was hilarious, I missed him =D then we came back to mine and he stopped over (my mum had to pick us up from the bus stop because we would have to have walked through the cemetery and it was pitch black and Paul got scared). She was in her dressing gown and was less than impressed.


So that's about it for now! Today has been my first day off in a week so I'm spending it bidding for things on eBay and lazing around watching True Blood =)

Sunday, 19 July 2009

Over Worked and Under Paid

How can I work at the same place for three years and only now realise there is a much shorter way of getting home?! I walk past it every single time as well. I never cease to amaze myself. It is almost as bad as the time I took the car to work and only remembered when my shift was over and I had already walked halfway home... I had to turn back and collect it. It was, quite frankly, very embarrassing.
Also, may not actually still have job. My boss text me asking me to check if the big walk in fridge was closed. I replied saying I went in and there were three looters in balaclavas taking everything... He hasn't text back, which does not bode well.

I went to see Harry Potter on Thursday with Simon and it was ace, even though they left out the majority of the book and most of the good bits. But Ron looked beautiful :) We ended up having to sit in the cool seats at the top because I was late and the only two seats left weren't together. I thought it was an added bonus, but Simon was all flustered because we weren't on time. We didn't miss any of the film though, or I would have cried.

Nothing much else is going on, I have been working all week, and will probably be working most of next week, and every day for the rest of my life ever ever ever. And just to add salt to the wound, my mother has given away my Famous Five books which I am NOT happy about. At all. On the plus side, I found some cans of Strongbow that I forgot I had so me and Sally can drink them, and I am going to see Jayne soon and play on the beach, so all in all, it is good :)


Wednesday, 15 July 2009

Yes, I Love A Cinderella Story, No, I Do Not Want 1,000,000 Hours At Work, and Yes, I Am Happy

On the work side of things, it would appear my boss seems to think I have some kind of gambling problem and as a result has put me on the rota for every hour under the sun. I could use the money though, and the entertainment's good; an old man came over the other day and explained that his wife had wandered off with his walking stick - he informed us that he couldn't go too far without it and needed to find his wife, yet he couldn't remember what she was wearing, or what colour hair she had. He was, however, pretty confident that her name was Jean and insisted that I shouted it through the shop at the top of my lungs, alas to no avail (Jean had snuck off to the greenhouse to buy a plant, the cow).

Thursday, 9 July 2009

WeightWatchers Ready Meals For One - The Story Of My Life, by Amy Rooke

So, I have just unloaded the shopping and, no joke, it contained only the following:
  • Two corn on the cobs (cobs of corn, corn-i, whatever the plural is)
  • One "tree" of brocolli
  • Two cucumbers
  • A leek
  • A bunch of bananas
  • Two boxes of strawberries
  • Three potatoes

Now, I know my mum's all buzzing off this whole "you're on a diet" thing, but come on, with no alcohol my body has already had the shock of it's poor life, and now this? Ace.

However, it is not all bad, because there are enough ingredients to make smoothies and watch Juno with Kezia, which is funnnn :)

My whole "leave the house every once in a while" plan is going quite well also - I went to Sally's on Tuesday and we lazed around and listened to hip music and ate potatoes :) And we watched the Michael Jackson memorial thing - we thought they were going to lift the coffin lid but they didn't, much to Sally's disappointment because she is secretly a really morbid goth :) Today I went and played at Lauren's and spent most of the day watching Maury (note to self: never turn into a white-trash hillbilly and print out phony DNA test to try and convince random-rapman that he has fathered my child).

Monday, 6 July 2009

"You have successfully completed your assessments for 2008/9 and may commence to the next year of your programme"

Question: who is the greatest person ever?
Well, not me, but I'm up there at the moment because I PASSED MY EXAMS! How exciting? Very. I got a 2:2 overall, so did Megan, and JP got a 2:1, so everyone's pretty happy right now. Not sure what Alex or Kate got yet, but DavidSmith got a 2:1 so everything's looking gravy.

Shocked is not the word. I honestly thought I didn't have a chance in hell of passing this year, and especially not Sociology. Maybe I am superwoman and have been lying to myself about my identity all this time?...

Anyway. I just had a voicemail from Paul telling me to call him later because he had somethig to tell me... Watch this space.

Starting to think maybe inflating my spacehopper was not the most intelligent of ideas... Just tried it out in my bedroom and ended up flying face first onto the floor... I'm sure I looked well attractive, but it's just not what I had in mind. I will have to buck my ideas up if I want to win Kezia in a race... Hopefully the neighbours won't get annoyed with two (kind of) fully fledged adults leaping down the avenue on bright orange space hoppers; especially next door, who I think are already a little annoyed at me as I was calling their cat a tit and telling my cat to "get it" when I realised they were sat in their own garden looking at me...

Friday, 5 June 2009

University =)

So my exams are all over (until resits in August) and I can officially say that I am no longer a Fresher! I'm actually well gutted that the first year is over, and pretty amazed at how fast it's gone. Next year will be ace though and I actually cannot WAIT. Here are some things I've learnt during my first year:

~ It's possible to become best friends with someone in less than three months
~ I can live, quite easily, without being dependent on my parents
~ No matter how nice/funny/laid back they are, there will always be something odd about people from the south

~ It's possible to sleep until 7pm
~ There are few things less exciting than the realisation that you can order pizza over the phone and pay with your bank card
~ One of the things more exciting is going on a night out and discovering there is a roller disco
~ Roller discos + me and Jayne = actual chaos
~ Shopping trips to Tesco can be more entertaining that T.V.
~ I will stay up till 5:30am when I have an exam the next day
~ It's easy to gain a lot of weight in very little time
~ I can live in a place for a year and only start discovering new places when it's time to go home

~ I can meet people in September, and then by December not understand how I lived without them
~ Kissing someone without knowing their name becomes somewhat normal
~ Leaving mince in a pan for a week will result in necessary disposal of said pan
~ It's possible to go three weeks without cleaning the kitchen and a small description this will feature in my suicide note
~ The words, 'I'm going to kill myself' become part of a daily routine
~ WhyBird is hilarious
~ Ker-Plunk and Frustration create more anger than any worldly issues
~ I can write 2,000 words on a subject I know nothing about
~ I can spend £100 in a week and have absolutely nothing to show for it
~ My library fines can get so high I have to pay by cheque
~ Making a giant slide down the stairs from matresses is hilarious, but will end in injury (i.e. me taking flight)
~ Prank calling Megan at work will always be funny
~ The student loans company are not reliable
~ We can spend £300 joining a gym, another £18 for matching gym bags, and still proceed, every Thursday, to say, 'let's go to the chippy'.
~ We can sit in A&E until 5am just to hear the doctor say, 'she'll have a bruise'.
~ Crisps can be a way of life
~ Face rapists do exist

~ Coming second in the SU quiz and winning a £20 bar tab can create more happiness than I imagine actual graduation would

Monday, 11 May 2009

I had a near death experience today trying to dislodge a bulb from my lamp and I think my heart is still going faster than it's average pace. I was wiggling the lamp around trying to pull it out (it was one of those annoying ones that you "twist and pull") it was not getting any looser. In the end, I just left it there and went to turn the lamp on. Big. Mistake. It ended up making a giant flash, breaking in half, and, making a noise scarily similarly to a gun going off, shot out of the lamp, missing my face by only inches. I think it is safe to say, I nearly weed.

Tuesday, 14 April 2009

You've got to be kidding me?

After taking an overdue library book home for two weeks and then realising that I will be fined £1 an hour, I have come to the conclusion that my overall fine will be £336... Half an hour after this traumatic realisation, I discover that I have done the wrong question for an essay I handed in about three weeks ago. Surely there must be some kind of joke of which my life is the butt? I cannot be this much of a twat, all the time, 24/7. Can I? ...


I am going to bed, and I am not coming out until I am fully recovered and have turned over a new leaf. It will be called 'Amy's Hibernation Period In Order For Her To Stop Being A Twat As Her Life Is Hanging By A Thread'.

Over and out.