This is a really long post entirely about my hands, so um. Yeah, it’s more of a reference point for me but it’s on my blog so w/e I can’t give you your time back if you choose to read it.
(N.B: that’s not a metaphor, this is literally a post about my hands.)
Read moreNobody? Huh, fancy that. Gonna tell you anyway.
In case of tl;dr basically I completely humiliated myself in front of the guy I banged last week. It was awesome. Not.
Read morebut my momma and little brother came to see me on their way back to Wakefield from Cornwall and we went out for tea at Harvesters and it was glorious. I was really glad to see them :)
Also my dissertation supervisor finally caught up with me and I have to meet with him after our lecture tomorrow. I just feel really bad now for not going sooner, because if I had then maybe I’d have actually started doing stuff already, instead I’ve just been sat back on my ass, coasting along doing fuck all. Hopefully he won’t be too down on me for not having done anything as yet, I just need a bit of direction I guess, and that’s what he’s for :)
on another plus note, guess who’s got a job again? BHFS have asked me back for weekends. I’m going in for training on Wednesday 7th (6:41 train after two consecutive nights out. Gonna be frickin’ awesome. Especially if I pull, lulz) So that’ll be a nice £70 a week extra, to be fair it means sacrificing the majority of my Saturdays and Sundays, but I feel it’ll be worth it because I need to start some kind of savings plan!
Also they’re gonna have me 5 days a week again when I’m done with university for the term, how fantastic. Which will be £200+ per week AND a bus.
But otherwise I am low, four days. Stick it out.
aren’t enough to temper my voracious appetite. What. Only human.
potentially the worst human ever
Good interesting/bad interesting in oddly equal measure.
As all bad campus crawls start, we were sober, and dressed ridiculously. There was a mexican, a thunderbird and two archaeologists (bear in mind this was an Indiana Jones themed crawl). The two archaeologists wore shorts. I wore a boob tube, something I would later come to regret.
The taxi driver was a mentalist. He was super chatty, which is nice. But then decided to imply that we were some kind of kinky foursome. That my leg itched because I’d “squirted the wrong way” and got piss on it (any grasp of anatomy at all here? Unlikely. I mean c’mon, “squirted”?!) Fair enough though he didn’t leave the meter running when we went to get cash out. Good lad.
Got outside Portland literally as our group came out. Brilliant, we only missed one bar. Group photos ensued, then a cross-campus trek to the first bar. All pretty boring here. Obviously with it being a campus 14, the aim is that you have a drink in all of the 14 bars on campus. I don’t know how many we made but we were certainly too slow to do all because they close really fucking early, but never mind.
Got gradually drunker as the bars went on, considering I’m a hideous lightweight now it wasn’t that difficult. Met a girl from a houseparty the other night and made her drop her drink all over the floor & then got chatted up by a very attractive lioness on a Biology BSc crawl. Some nice looking guys on our crawl too, thank goodness.
Had lovely chats with various people I will probably not talk to in the near future, if at all. Including a guy on our course that my housemate fully loathes, a couple of post-grads who clearly had no idea who I was or why I was talking to them because they were too battered the previous bar crawls to place my face. One of whom we got to grind on someone we thought was just a standard student at one of the bars. Turns out he was an Archaeology student. (OOH SIDE NOTE, one of the post-grads in question just added me, how lovely. Not the naughty one.)
On to another bar, got introduced to a guy with a name synonymous with feeding hungry kitties all over the country. My housemate played “Have you met Louise?” to a point, because she has my back AKA wants me to get laid. So that was quite nice and he was mostly good, but at the last bar he came to sit with me after the incident and was all handsy and shit. Ended up resting his head on my boobs, and feeling my leg. And it turns out he has a girlfriend.
Right, The Incident, I’d not really considered it properly till my housemate came in for a chat mid entry and I had to stop writing. But I got sexually assaulted. I think that’s how you’d class it but I don’t know. One of the postgrads was with me at the bar, he was pissing about, ended up knocking some blu-roll off the counter top and generally being a bit of a tosser, so I chastised him and pulled him towards my chest to get him to stop.
He saw this as an invitation to grab my top and bra, and pull them both down.
I’m a little shaken by it now I’ve dwelt on it, so I don’t really know what else to say now. I’m going to the gym to sweat it out.
I had to scoop him out with my hands. He’s so rapid, reminded me why I named him Jenson.
Then when I was testing the water in his jug’s temperature against his vase he nommed my finger. It felt cute.
Nosy neighbour.
Also full on hangover. Oh my god. Why three days in a row? It’s like I want to be overcome with overwhelming nausea throughout the day whilst trying to pretend either my stomach, my brain or alcohol do not exist.
Thank goodness for showers though. Nothing like washing away your sins in a cubicle of regret.
Things aren’t getting any less exciting, in fact quite the opposite!
IDUGHSNLGNDRINJindddddddddddderjloaefjkm apartments.
pictures of my room before, me posing wearing a -gasp- bow-tie, and my beddy bed bed in my room after
enjoi mufuckers
(this bed is the only good thing about my day today. Apart from my dress and the chinese and olympic golds all over the shop. ALL MATERIALISTIC THOUGH, NO GOOD FEELS. NONE)
Which is fair enough I guess, because from time to time I do drink. What I should probably say is “I don’t drink without making truly terrible errors of judgement and then having a severe case of the regretsies for the following weeks”
That sums up my drinking habits more.
That is all.
Fjhfcudsufgiureiwqnbdflfoedfkrdsufdjsbregretfigdswicxsz
my mum and brother got back from cornwall today, just an hour after after I got back from Nottingham (another free journey!! Yeah, Friday was free too because I am super inconspicuous) and I’m so glad they’re home and also my bought me a tiny birdy necklace made out of cornish glass.
But also, it’s weird. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I feel like I’m in a weird limbo at the moment, where neither Wakefield nor Nottingham are home. I have friends here in Yorkshire, and friends down in Nottinghamshire, but I’m honestly struggling to think of either as where I actually live. I feel like a fucking guest in either place.
Also living on my own was totally not as bad as I thought, and I think I already miss it. Just the house was so peaceful and I could wander round naked, and eat really healthily and what I pleased and at what time I liked.
Hmm, I’m not looking forward to being done with uni per se, I just think I am very close to that stage where I progress into life on my own (not on my own, but you know, without living at “home” or having to be somewhere because of university) it’s very strange thinking about that and not being afraid.
I’ve decided I need to work now, if I’m to have enough money to do anything with my life after university then doing summer placements (like I am currently) isn’t enough (especially seeing as my this is my last summer as a student. oh shit…)
but yeah, administrative assistant, retail assistant, secretary, bar worker or receptionist is the kind of stuff I’ve been looking at.
The world of work is edging ever closer to me. SCARY OR WHAT. But if I do it sooner rather than later, then I’ll be better off in the long run. I need to get all the experience I can before I end up as just another unemployed graduate. I fucking hate the statistics about unemployed young people with degrees, so basically I’m not going to be one of them.
