£25..... What £25?

ah its a good day, I have new shoes, I had a roast(!), my room is tidy and I changed my bed sheets and everyone knows that there is nothing like clean bed sheets. I am still a bit ill and still haven't finished my work BUT as I write this ghostbusters just came on courtesy of Now! 25 Years so as Howard Jones would say things can only get better.. of course they could get worse but bleh bleh bleeeeh is what I say to that....

Theiving pikey bastards..

This week has been ace in many ways; it turns out that the university isn't there to screw you over and if you cry at the right people they will help you, they won't wipe your tears away and give you a biscuit like your mum does though but I guess you can't have everything. It has also been ace because I made a lush sausage stew which was lush (so much so that it needed saying twice).

The ways in which it hasn't been ace concern the same people and very similar problems. It would seem that paying the powers that be nearly £90 a week for a nice-ish flat doesn't mean that they will provide you with somewhere to keep your stuff without it being nicked. It is also (apparently) unreasonable to be annoyed when some theiving pikey steals something that we have left in our communal area.

Looking at it now, the biggest thing that has happened is actually quite funny but basically my flatmate Andy has an xbox and keeps it in the living room where the TV is, now if it had just been stolen that would be nice and straightforward but it hasn't, someone came in yesterday and swapped their, granted newer but nevertheless, broken xbox for Andy's which is fully functioning. The thing that is most frustrating is that when we told the warden it seemed like she didn't understand why were so bothered and as she very helpfully pointed out, it is a COMMUNAL area so if we leave anything in there it is at our own risk, which is fine except we trust everyone we let in. The people we don't trust are the cleaners, the student union people, random admin staff that work in the office, 'plumbers', 'electricians' and every other random person that the uni gives master keys to.

As you can see in the picture we had made some beautiful posters of our lovely lush boys and today someone who was in the flat destroyed them, no joke they actually pulled the faces off of them and when we went to complain, the same whiney warden spoke to us like we were ridiculous children. Tres frustrating because it would seem that we literally have no power and the more we complain the less they seem to care.

uni sucks more than your mum..

I think I might hate uni just a little bit, my classes suck, my mad budgeting skillz suck and my general student-ness SUCKS!
I have no idea whether I should just cut my losses and leave or stick it out and eventually fail the year. I also don't know if I even care, I guess I just don't want to feel the disappointment glare from my mum. I mean I'm pretty sure she'd be ok with it but deep down she'd be thinking 'what is this loser child of mine going to do with her life?'
aaah it sucks, I wish I could just live here in Brighton with the gays and just be happy and jolly with a simple life. When did it get all complicated and rubbish? I mean I have no idea what I would do but I think anything would be better than how things are now..
Will update when I have sorted my life out.

Birfday fuuuun..

So I am now officially 21.. 21, twenty one... TWENTY ONE.
No still hasn't sunk in. What is most confusing is where the last 3 years have gone, I mean I had a party for my 18th then my life seemed to spiral into a old age..

Anyway, birthday itself was ok, had family round for some very unsophisticated foodage and drinking which went down a treat - lots of screaming kids and mini quiches and also lots of lovely presents but i'll get onto that in a bit.

Actual birthday shenanigans were ace, I wore a pretty dress and got to eat noodles (well actually no, I had a rice dish, but whatever), got a bit squiffy and danced around - all one can ask for on their birthday I think.

So presents.. Well my lovely and fab NBF/boyf Simon only got me a TEA POT! As you can see from the picture it is pretty ace and very well chosen! I also got some money and a lamp and a fluffy rug and a photo album and some jewellery. So all in all a good year!

The only thing that bothers me now is that the next real milestone is 30, and that makes me want to cry a bit...

Pramface..

Oh so this explains all the ASBOs.. It all makes sense now.

Ben 10

I love it!
What more could you really ask for in a modern day superhero than to be able to turn into 10 different heroes... I might get the lunch box.

Hooooome...

I am back in the 'bridge. This is only my first night but it feels a little bit weird and I can't quite workout why.
My journey home was very dull until I got into Cambridge station; I asked the nice ticket man if he would let me through the big ticket gate thing because I had a massive bag and he said in his most patronising voice, 'just put your ticket in love and you'll be fine..' Well that got my back up straight away and since I had this huge bag I clearly wasn't going to be fine, so when I did get stuck I asked him, very politely, if he could open the ticket gate I had gone through since my hand was lodged in it and instead of apologising and helping me, he tutted! Then he said 'love you need to give yourself more time..' Now I should have stayed calm really but something inside me snapped so I said 'oi LOVE its not me who needs more time its this fucking ticket machine and actually you need to listen to what I'm saying next time!'
Well by this point I had held up everyone and was getting tuts thrown at me from every angle, but it wasn't over, just as he opened his mouth to say something back I launched in with an epic rant - 'look mate I haven't just dragged this suitcase all over the south east just to finally get into Cambridge and have some eejet (I actually came over a bit Irish) talk to me like a twat and actually help me to get trapped in a ticket gate, so how about next time you JUST DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!'
....Well I actually thought I was going to get arrested, so I did the very British thing of stomping off ranting and tutting under my breath...
So it would seem that I am home....

Tres bon Roots Manuva, tres tres bon..

Lots of fun had by all it would seem; I was getting down with my bad self for a good 2 hours and didn't once feel that I wasn't ghetto enough to be there...

So yeah here I am in, mostly, sunny Brighton. Its all going pretty well actually and after a month of eating relatively well, with only the bare minimum of pasta dishes consumed I feel like I can look after myself and when necessary even change my bed sheets.. The only downside I suppose would be that my halls are in the arse end of Nowhere (arse end being the key feature) which means thats buses are a bit thin on the ground but they do run 24/7 so I can't complain too much.

So before I started I thought I'd probably be one of the oldest in the flat and I was right and although at the beginning this wasn't such a problem, recently I have started to feel slightly responsible for some of the kids. For example they all seem ask me for advice when cooking risky food such as chicken or pork, I am always in charge of us getting the bus on time of a night out and I am always the one that turns the lights and switches off so the flat doesn't burn down. I mean I guess I should be flattered that they think I'm responsible but I want to be hip and cool and down with the kids and I didn't think I would start to feel old this far away from being 21. Also I don't know what the rules are about going out dancing, for example am I aloud out to clubs without a teenager to hand? When does drinking very cheap vodka from Asda stop being acceptable? And at what point, if any, do I step in if one of the kids is about to kiss a complete arse? I just don't know anymore!

Anyway... I will make sure I update this better and keep anyone reading up-to-date with my turning 21 life crisis also I will make my flow into neurotic content more smooth in the future........

The end is near..

Its a bit scary actually, this time Saturday I'll be panicking about if I've got enough pants and whether my plates will break during the journey.. Of course they don't sell plates and pants in Brighton since everyone is a gay, so I will be pretty much screwed..

Anyway I think everyone knows I've been a tad excited for a while but it is suddenly dawning on me that I'll actually have to try and make friends. In the past this hasn't been a problem really and one would think that it would be easy since everyone is in the same boat, but what if these new folk realise that I'm actually just blagging my way through our conversation and that all my talk of cake and High School Musical is just a way of tricking them into being my new, but fickle, friends? Letters on a postcard please..

On a lighter note I have just found some pretty stuff that I bought a while back - including this fab cupcake biscuit barrel, so if it all does go wrong I can just take my brightly coloured sweet goods jar and live in my room til Christmas when everything will be back to normal...

tres exciting news...

Ok, so I know I haven't been the best at keeping this up-to-date but since I am going to be away a lot now I think it is only right to keep my public up-to-date with my life - because it will be SO exciting..