3 Cold Street

I love my little house. Yes, it's messy, I can never be bothered to do my washing so there's a backlog of dirty dishes and I seem to have a large pile of dirty laundry too. This weekend I ironed my sheets for the first time ever - I must be growing up, I noticed that they're just not nice when they go on crumpled. Oh dear.

However, a cold house is not a good house to do anything in. For some reason or other half the radiators in my house just ceased functioning, so the only warm rooms are my bedroom and my hallway. Rubbish. This also has been going on for weeks now. I am cold! The other problem is I have a gas heater in my living room. I put this on, place my little rug over me, and bam, I'm asleep. I'm sure this does nothing for my body - sleeping on a small sofa makes me bend all wrong - or for my sleep patterns. Also I keep missing vital bits of CSI and James Bond (i.e. how on earth did he get out of that without being dropped to his death/cut in half with a laser/ruining that particularly nasty outfit (George Lazenby tries to look like Sherlock Holmes... no, no, no, no!)).

Brrr.

This Week I Shall Mostly Be Dancing...

...because I made chocolate cake!

I managed to get the special recipie of my mother's chocolate cake (that I ask for every birthday). Surprisingly enough it was real easy to make. So I danced, even though it was midnight, when it was finished.

I can make cake, me!

I know, I'm not big or clever...

Friday night is either a)time to go to the gym, b)occurs elsewhere in the country, c)go home and watch CSI (sometimes coupled with (a) d)go out with random members of department/faculty and get drunk.

This week was the turn of d). I'm sure I didn't mean to, but recollections of Friday night are mostly entertaining and slightly fragmented... This may be something to do with Brother's Pear Cider.

The end of the night involved me wandering home singing at the top of my voice, after being called a legend by some bloke called Jasper I'd only just met that night, at 3am, with some other bloke trying to proposition me by text....
It was just one of those nights.

Remember, Remember, The Fifth Of November

This year was the turn of Tarr's Fireworks Extraviganza (sic). Those of you who don't know Phil would be forgiven for not having the fear of God put into you by those simple words. It all started fairly simply, Phil produced an old set of overalls which we stuffed with newspaper (making me freeze in the process, oh yes, I forgot to mention, IT WAS BLOODY COLD!). The bonfire was made in one of those fire bins and the guy, which looked a bit like the baby from Family Guy, was propped up on top. Soon enough the guy went up in flames, and his "guts" kind of fell out of the bonfire and landed on the soil, prompting Rach, who's house the party was going to be held at, to say, "Yeah, that would have been FINE in my back garden".
The fireworks started off with a bit of a bang, and not in a good way. Matt and Garreth go off to set one off and next thing we know they're running away from a bloody great big flash of light. They didn't quite get which bit of the firework they were supposed to light. Luckily neither of them were hurt, and we managed the rest of the fireworks in safety, having a good laugh at the catherine wheel which didn't actually go round at all (whoops!)...

As I came in this morning in the fog created by burning bonfires I reflected on this and on many previous bonfire parties, and wondered how long it would be before they banned bonfires due to them giving off too much carbon dioxide. That would be a very sad day.

Today I did Something Good

I made a man happy and maybe helped someone in the world start a duck breeding program.


My friend's father is running in the London Marathon next year and is raising money for ActionAid. He seems to have been a bit down in the dumps recently so I thought I would cheer him up with a donation towards his sponsorship. Yay, it worked! I have made him happy, and I have just given enough money that would have paid for a small trip to Asda. Or someone in the world to get shelter. And I don't believe I've seen any Actionaid people trying to stop me for money in the street (which I find intensly irritating).

Right, I'll get off my soapbox now and go eat some supper. May we all be lucky enough to have supper tonight.