Sunday 31st October

Just got home from seeing the Blair Witch Project. Without a doubt the worst movie I have ever seen. The camera work is even more dodgy than mine was when I got hold of the video camera at one of the Forest get-togethers and I have seen scarier things in bed next to me in the morning. It's just a bunch of hysterical, STOOPID Americans running around screaming FUCK! FUCK! etc Plus any sensible person would have followed the river instead of tramping around the woods without a map. But then, as we were constantly reminded, it *was* America....

Am still waiting for someone to turn up an convince me that all men do not have the ability to be bastards. At least Kerrie is happy, she told Jen and me all the gory details over happy hour cocktails in Havana after the movie. Cue much poking fun at Jen about things not touching the sides! They managed to seize my phone while I was at the bar and phone the Thug on it. He is in Bristol *I think* but hey, I never get to hear these things first hand anymore. Feel double-dosed on bitterness tonight since I downloaded all my old mail folders from my school account and ended up getting bogged down reading old mails from Gitboy. Even went and sat in the park after getting back home, woah, cue major trip down memory lane....I could almost see OP taking a pop at Gitboy by the fence (grin).

It's finally happened, you know, I am turning into one of those bitter twisted hags who writes inflammatory crap all over their web pages and hopes no-one reads it apart from the perfect man (laugh) should such a thing exist. I give up on men. Nope, I wish I *could* give up, it would be so much easier

Wednesday 3rd November

Has been surprisingly mild weather all day today, I am quite impressed, it doesn't feel like November. In fact, the only giveaway is the fireworks going off every night. I must remember to buy some sparklers.
I was very lazy all day, actually, I think because the weather was so nice, and the thought of having to spend 13 hours at work for the next two days rather exhausted me so I thought I would relax while I can. Of course, I am falling behind with my studies even as I sleep but there is only so much one can do! It's the critical analysis I am panicking about today, I just don't know where to start. I supposed finding a passage from a suitable book would be a good first step though (smile)
I have just been looking at Masa's excellent web site and the related ones he has written for two of his courses this year. They are fab! I am so jealous, he is such a bright lad (grin) I find it interesting that in his "Londoner's diary" he has mentioned that he has been accused of being a workaholic and a nerd. Personally, I am stunned - in a good way - by his amazing dedication to his studies, it makes such a change from your average student. I always love meeting people who are even more enthralled by history than I am! As for being a nerd...tsk tsk! That is such an '80s term. There is absolutely nothing wrong with keeping up with the latest in technology. When are people going to recognise that the nerds of the future will be the people who are unable to use this technology? Precious few humanities students are also computer literate, so Masa, I salute you, keep up the good work! I will make it my goal to one day be as organised as you are

Sunday 7th November

Have I ever been so glad to finish a week? Probably. But I am especially pleased this week because I'm off on holiday to Cuba on Wednesday. Yep, in 60 short hours I'll be grumpily choking down muddy Mcdonald's coffee at Gatwick and realising I forgot to pack my camera/sun tan lotion/passport.
Most of the people I've told about my forthcoming adventure (and believe me, I have told a *lot* of people!) have wished me well and asked for a cigar or a postcard. But the minority - and one person in particular sticks in my mind - have berated me for spending a frivolous amount of money on an unnecessary luxury. All week long, from this particular person, a sour old miser of 61 who works in Fenwick with me, I have heard "It's disgusting! STUDENTS! Going on holiday! Bloody students...my taxes...mumble mumble....your life is a permanent holiday, you wait until you get a real job, then you'll know what real work is....why are you always tired? You only ever do half your job anyway..."
To this lifeless, miserable killjoy, and to all others who think students should be starving in a garret and writing essays by candlelight whilst wearing every item of clothing they own, I have this to say - it is none of your business! I have just completed a 40 hour working week, which is longer than some people in full time employment work. In addition to this, I have attended the proscribed four hours of lectures, written half an essay and most of a source analysis and read half of three books. I have been out drinking three times in the past month, not the expected every-night-and-twice-on-Sundays. I worked 13 hours a day, six days a week for 12 weeks in the summer. I deserve a bloody holiday! I pay my taxes just like everyone else, and what I choose to do with my grant cheque is my business. I expect to graduate with a decent grade, whereupon I will be paying even more taxes, and since it's doubtful the state pension scheme will still exist by the time I am old enough to collect it, I think I'm going to make the most of what the government is giving me now, thankyou very much.
I think it's about time people stopped stereotyping students as beer swilling, hash smoking, morning sleeping, library avoiding, sponging, lazy "yoof". I can honestly say that out of all the students I know, only a tiny minority actually conform to this stereotype. The abolition of student grants by the two-faced lying Labour government will only further increase the number of students needing to find part time jobs - close on a million last year - and this image does nothing to recommend us to possible employers. I have had my job for nearly a year now, but I still remember the haughty look of the receptionist when she perused my application form and informed me that the job was a permanent position, not just for a few weeks.
At the end of this week of covering for staff sickness and holidays, though, I think I get the last laugh, since, in spite of my student status, I have proved indispensable

Monday 22nd November

November is turning out to be a really good month, in spite of the ridiculous reduction in temperatures and the rapidly approaching coursework deadline. Who would have thought it - for the first time in my years as a student, this week I will not be staying up until 5am and sneaking into the computer room watery-eyed at 4.30pm on Friday afternoon to print my essays. Yes, I am actually on schedule! Only one more left to do. Granted, it is the most difficult one, and technically I am still supposed to be handing in the preliminary bibliography for my first dissertation, but I'm not going to let that rain on my parade. It couldn't anyway, it's too cold - it would snow. I've pinned blankets over my windows in an attempt to keep my room at a habitable temperature and it's the only room in the house which I use. Everywhere else, you get dragon breath from the cold. Remind me never to live in a house without central heating again.

And to think! Merely a week ago I was sunning myself on a lounger by a turquoise sea (sigh). The holiday was wonderful but too short by half. The first three days were a mess of wind and rain but at least it was still hot.....running along the sand in the pouring rain makes stumbling along in the freezing drizzle seem slightly more bearable, somehow. It's a different world out there - the attitudes of people, the way the place looks, everything. What struck me was the lack of things to buy - no millions of swag emporiums filled with "My friend went to Cuba and all I got.." t-shirts; very few restaurants offering very limited menus. Lots and lots of rum though, heh heh heh. Also lots of pictures of Che Guevara, lots of police and lots of Communist slogans such as "Tenemos y tendremos socialisma" (or something along those lines). We dined in Al Capone's house, got chirpsed by Cuban men left right and centre (they all think the tourists are loaded), collected shells, obsessed about our respective boys over daiquiris by the pool, went night swimming in the sea (until the coast guards told us off in a torrent of Spanish), took the piss out of all the men in unsuitable speedoes and most of the Germans in two pieces, and at some point found time to experience a certain amount of Cuban culture. Justine and her experiences with lizards which were actually pieces of twig will forever amuse me, as will the look on her face when she read in the guide book that her postcards could take anywhere between a month and a year to arrive home!

As for myself, I got roped into doing this dodgy contest one night, men vs. women - of course we won, but not before I had been forced to sing random songs and do dodgy things with a foam banana and a spoon on a piece of string. I lost the singing part because as the microphone got pointed in my face for the fifth time, I was stumped for what to sing, I could only think of the American national anthem which would have been highly inappropriate! Also I had half my hair cut off. It's now merely shoulder length, and I still cannot get used to it. I thought it would make me feel more confident but it just makes me feel colder. And younger - I got asked for ID in Asda at the weekend! Bloody cheek!

Speaking of bloody cheek, we saw Richard Branson at Gatwick, he was being escorted past all the queues at passport control, the git. I bet he flew first class and slept like a baby for the entire journey, wherever he was arriving from, not like us cattle in economy...I swear every single person who used the toilet on our flight trod on my foot or elbowed me in the head. I tried standing behind Mr Virgin and shouting BUT HE MIGHT HAVE A FAKE PASSPORT! but it didn't work. Everyone just looked at me like I was a child murderer.

(Sigh) but that's it, holidays over until the summer now. But four different people have asked me to go away with them already, I feel so popular! My choices so far are -
1. My Mum - who wants me to accompany her on another jaunt to eastern Europe
2. Kez and Jen - who are planning a week in a timeshare in Spain or Tenerife
3. Zoe - who wants to go somewhere slightly less partyish, oddly enough
4. Justine - who wants to go to a million places, including Hong Kong and Ghana, but who will be going to Mexico if she goes anywhere with me since it is my turn to choose
Decisions, decisions! Maybe I will quit work and spend the entire summer on holiday.

Anyway I had better shut up now because it's so cold my fingers have stopped working properly and it's getting difficult to type. Also I am still knackered from my housewarming party (highly amusing - Kez appears to be working her way through my ex-boyfriends - first Gitboy, now R-boy!) and Allen's birthday party (Jen got dropped on her head on the pavement) and I have to go out for drinks tomorrow night and at the weekend I get to go to Manchester for another Forest get together. That I think might become the highlight of the month. But the less said the better, I don't want to jinx myself
(Note to self - for a not-very-party girl, you are sounding dangerously hedonistic).

Friday 26th November

It is days like these that I remember why I work so many hours overtime. Yes, today is pay day! Or at least, pay slip day....pay day technically not being until Monday but we all know I will have spent it all by the time it actually lands in my account. I was amazed to discover that I worked a staggering 125 hours last month. Considering that I am only contracted for 40, that isn't bad going! I feel like I have been mugged though, they deducted an obscene amount of national insurance. I wouldn't mind but I never even go to the doctor's.

Pay slip day, as it so often does, sparked off a discussion about the rise of living costs and how much people get paid outside of London. It is a sad-but-true fact that Justine gets paid almost twice what the average HMV worker gets up north. But then it costs her four pounds a day to get to work, sometimes more, so I suppose it all balances out somewhere. House prices have gone up by eight per cent here in the last quarter. That means that if you wanted to buy a house that was £100,000, and you left it a year, you would need £132,000 instead. That's why I am considering very carefully whether to move away from London when I graduate or not. I feel the need for a change of scenery, certainly - somewhere completely new because there is very little that would tempt me back to Portsmouth! - but if I left, it would take me ages to save up enough money to come back, considering the exorbitant rents. By that time, too, one will have to pay to drive into London (not that I drive...yet!) and the tube will cost even more and the capital will be in the grip of some crackpot mayor....am I the only person who thinks that all this political palaver over candidates is pointless? Surely the mayor of London should be politically colourless? I mean, it's a big city, there is no fixed political leaning. Yet when the elections take place, Labour party members will vote for the Labour party candidate, Conservatives for the Tory one, and so on. I think this is all wrong! They should vote for the person they think is best for the job. On their policies, not their politics. I would like to see the tubes running all night ....oh there is a printer free now, I had better go and use it or the deadline will have passed and I will not have handed this essay in

Monday 29th November

November just gets better and better! As predicted, the Forest get together was a blinder of a weekend. Everytime I see these people I end up pissed out of my tree and kissing everybody, but I suppose that is all good as long as it is not too regular! Beer is so much cheaper there. And the people are more friendly. Richard and I both nearly missed the train which was luckily delayed otherwise I would not have caught it. We ended up wandering around Manchester all afternoon and going to this little Italian place for lunch, this was an amusing incident because as we walked in, the manager turned around to us and said, "OK ladies, sit anywhere you like!" Richard picked up a knife and started slashing the table with it. I was sat there giggling away like a maniac thinking nothing could be funnier than that until the bloke came to take our order and again, called Richard a lady. He didn't take it so well this time, since the guy was only standing three feet away, and ordered in an overly gruff voice. He didn't leave a tip so I am glad I'll never go there again because spaghetti a la dribble is not my favourite. It's the hair that does it.

Anyway we ended up in the pub in Bolton three hours early with Gavin and Smiley, and sat around until everyone else turned up. There was quite a good turnout actually. I must try and get the pictures up soon. Our attempted pub crawl consisted of two pubs, thanks to the dress code, but we had fun anyway. Apparently we're barred from the second pub now, I don't remember but it wouldn't be the same if we didn't end up getting barred from somewhere. Watching the Thug drain a bottle of Bacardi Breezer in three seconds was an education, now that's a skill worthy of one's CV (smile). We went on to some dodgy club after that and got even more drunk. Poor Joyce tells me she never got up on Sunday until 5pm! Lucky mare, I got dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour (9.30am) on Sunday morning. We managed to get Gavin to give us a lift back to Phil's house but we still can't have got in until 4am. I have a vague recollection of falling out of his car and throwing the contents of my bag everywhere (thank god I didn't break my walkman: it would have been the second one in three weeks!) Oh what it is to be young (read "hangoverless") and lacking in inhibitions (my apologies to anyone who was in those toilets) or maybe that should be morals. Or maybe "steady boyfriend" heh....and to be a bit cheeky (I spent nine quid for the entire evening) and persuasive (everyone wore my Santa hat for the pictures, even Phil who is usually such a grinch about these things) and shameless (some complete stranger gave me half his kebab on the way to the club). I know we had a good time because I have four new bruises and I ache all over. This is a sure sign of a good weekend.

Better and better I got driven all the way home and Phil and Richard between them bought me breakfast and dinner and a ticket to see James Bond, the Sunday was as much fun as the night before. Bond was GOOD! To my anti-Bond readers (Bernie&Kerrie) PAH! Nobody could ever beat him. I thought M was in it a little bit too much, it rather demystified the character since before she was just a dominating presence. I also find it rather strange that she couldn't escape by herself since as head of MI6, she's got to be better than Bond, and Bond would have managed to get out of it. Judi Dench was marvelous though.

To learn MORE about these marvelous Forest people, go to The Forest Website and read the guest book or check out the teleconference. After all, what is the point of living if you cannot feel alive? (shameless Bond rip off)