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.