Saturday 30th October
Zed: Ooh! Screaming Banshee Aircrew are playing in York next weekend. Even though I've seen them at least four times already, I want to go, and I should, as I promised everyone I'd return to York whenever possible.

Thursday 4th November
Zed: I really need to inform some people of my impending arrival. Just after a quick go at The Sims 2 . . .

Friday 5th November
2am: Zed: Oops.
7.30am: Zed: I really can't be bothered.
8.45am: Zed: Nah, I'll regret it if I don't go.

And verily, fifteen minutes later, I had everything packed, told the necessary people and found out my train times. I didn't even forget to bring anything! I am a bit worried about my brother though:

Zed: What have I forgotten?
Noj (without hesitancy or sarcasm): An axe.

I did my seven and a half hours of work without lunch break, received an e-mail from Alex telling me his housemate was away for the weekend so I could have her bedroom, and reached York at 7.20. (Although it took me forever to get off the platform, as everyone was standing beneath the un-roofed bits, staring at the pritty fireworks.) Alex and myself went for (literally) a couple of drinks, went back to his house for a bit (gah, that sounds dodgy, but I can't remember the actual reason now), then went to a houseparty of some friends of his. (With fireworks, albeit only four of them. Probably better that way though, as former corridor mate Nicola had a "bring a firework" party, and they ended up having to spend three hours freezing to death letting them all off.)

Normally, I hate parties, as I always end up sitting next to someone I don't have anything to say to, and can't hear anyone else, and unlike at clubs, there's nothing else to do. But, despite not drinking any more, as I brushed my recently scaled-and-polished teeth at Alex's, and they stang, I was feeling uber-sociable, and ended up scaring some random fresher (although, as is only proper, it turned out she knew UKC Emma) with my Theory Of Sexism In Talk Of Pulling, telling a bloke I'd sleep with him if he wasn't good friends with Alex (in a utterly non-lecherous fashion, in a conversation Alex was also part of, but still, nice going, Zed!) and stroking a rat. Typical party then, but really, I'm so classy I amaze myself constantly.

On Saturday, I met up with Nicola. We went to *upsidedownly crosses herself* Starbucks in Borders, as there wasn't any more logical venue to chat. But we did sit at a table stacked with a weird Duplo rip-off, she had some weird drink called Innocent with an upsidedown label on it, and I discovered white chocolate money exists. She informed me that one of our former corridor mates fled the country, taking only a suitcase of stuff with her, and abandoning loads of new designer clothes, and another left behind her collection of scarily large knives, of which she was seemingly overly fond. And those are just the repeatable stories.

We then went in search of cough medicine, hoover bags, Fair Trade fudge, and of course metaaaaaaaal!!!!! (She's not a metalhead, but she was very impressed by the Lost Horizon and Sonata Arctica playing ont sound system of the METAAAAAAAL shop.) A most successful mission was had.

I then went to L33ds (the nearby large city, for you non-Brits) with Alex, as I'd only ever been there at night before, and wanted to see what it was like. We went in search of non-soppy sympathy cards (a task and a half - most of them had positively epic poems written on them), fabric shops and places selling black nail polish (also a thankless task - why is it so impossible to find?) We were not looking for CDs, but we managed to find rather too many anyway in second hand shops. Despite living cheaply and earning a fairly good wage for the last two months, I now have £300 less than I had beforehand. Admittedly, I've bought a new computer, travelled a lot and bought tickets for many many gigs, but still!

I also bought the Suede biography, thanks to Ibid forwarding me the Guardian abridgiation some moons ago. Curse thee, Ibid!

At the station, we found a train called "Bradford Film Festival". Why?

Int evening, we went to Ye Olde Gothe Nighte. Twas excellent, music-wise, people-wise and especially Banshee Aircrew-wise. Good Mykos, they rock, especially live. Every time I see them, I tell them it was the performance I've seen them do, but it always is!

Despite not drinking that much and keeping all my motor skills, I went totally insane at the end of the night, and spent the whole journey home rambling at Alex about Mykos knows what and singing, but I don't think I did anything untoward in the pub (not counting various conversations beginning "Hello! Who are you? I'm well drunk, me!") Rock.

This morning, I got up early to be an extra! Yes, Becky who I knew through scriptwriting guild was shooting a crowd scene, and so I went and stood in a field for two hours, listening to my supposed hero, an environmental protestor, give a speech over and over again. Sadly, unlike with real films, I didn't get paid vast amounts for it, though I got to see Berna, and James gave us chocolate biscuits (yes - leave the university and still receive societal benefits!) which made it wholly worthwhile.

Then me and Berna and Alex had lunch, then went round to Berna's to watch a couple of DVDeez. Then I went home. It was indeed a fine weekend.


Tuesday 9 November 2004

Who got a distinction in her Dutch exam?

(Not an easy feat, since even though answers are either right or wrong, they scale it so the top possible mark is 80%.)

w00t!