Bring on the oven.

Feel like I need some practice typing on my NEW IPAD. I'm sorry, I'll try not to be too dickish about it. The blogger app actually isn't that great so I may end up writing more from my laptop, but hey ho.

Enrolled officially this week. Now I have to do work and stuff, oh god. Task number one was create a professional twitter account so employers won't hate me as much as my other followers do. However haven't been able to separate my HILARIOUS personality entirely- one tweet and I've already mentioned bacon... @rachdoesjourno for anyone who's interested in seeing me write dead serious and that.

Freshers Fair tomorrow, going to get there bang on time in order to claim maximum freebies. Have been terrible student so far, what sort of fresher buys an iPad in their first week good god. However, student cooking wise, on top form as have yet to cook proper meal... That will all change tonight though, am going to attempt sweet and sour chicken, apologies in advance to fellow halls residents who may have to evacuate later...

Although, that said, I did buy a bag of mixed salad today so I'll probably survive another week or so. Wish me luck.

Dan, the complete and utter man.

Today, I met my course leader.
He stared at us.
He sang.
He jumped on a desk.
He took us to the beach.
He made flapjack.
I love him.

There is nothing else about today that is important. This is definitely the right course for me. I hope our friendship blossoms into something beautiful.

PASS ME MY FINEST PEN

So Freshers is almost over. There are still events happening next week, but as of Monday 24th September 2012, I am officially, properly, really full on studying at Bournemouth University. Holy hell.

Last night, was one of the best night's I've ever had out, like, ever. (you feel me Taylor Swift?) My ghetto/house/heavy/dubstep/folk/gospel (we're not entirely sure which) partner in crime and fellow Rachel, Miss Petrovics and I went to 'WAYF' aka We Are Your Friends. http://www.wayfclub.com/ If you ever get a chance to go to one of these nights, GO. I am a self confessed indie wanker, but even I enjoyed it. I'd like to say that I was drunk enough to forget that I do my top buttons up and enjoy country music, but I wasn't, I WAS TOTALLY SOBER. AND I DIDN'T GIVE A SHIT. WAYF has my soul now.

Tomorrow marks the start of term one at BU, introductions, enrollments and welcome talks galore. After nearly 3 months off, with no structure to my days bar the fact that The Big Bang Theory is on at 6, I'm itching to get back in and start working. Imagine I'll regret that when I'm snowed under with assignments, crying for the days when Leonard and Sheldon were my only distraction. But for now, I'm excited. Our first week includes a lecture on the US Election, I hope Obama is guest speaker. One of the major things to learn this year is shorthand. I saw some yesterday, it looks like hieroglyphics, so that should be fun. May just draw some baskets and eyes and sphinxes and call it quits. Apparently I have to practice for two hours every day to keep on top of it, hahahahahahahahahahaha. Oh god.

All up in my grill, and there's not even steak.

Diverting slightly from the university side of things, I wanted to take a minute to tell you a quick story and see if anyone else out there shares my troubles.

Let's get one thing straight, I am no hot piece of ass. When I go out of an evening, I am not bombarded by men trying to buy me drinks or dance with me, and it's perfectly fine because it means more time to dance to Beyonce and less chance to end up in a ditch blazed on rohypnol. However, equally, I am not a susan boyle lookalike so on occasion, I do find myself in situations which require a speedy 'I'll be back in a second' and a mad dash to the nearest toilets. 

Last night, I found myself in a predicament. Being a top pal and excellent wingman, I was very happy to see my friend had managed to score a hottie. Less happy was I, to discover I was now stuck with his absolutely plastered mate. An awkward dance or two later and I was beginning to panic that my friend was not fully understanding the urgent nature of the HELPHELPHELPHELP I had been mouthing. You know when you play Swingball, and you hit the ball too hard that it flies manically round, each time looming dangerously close to your face? You know how you have to dodge back each time in order to avoid a head on collision with a mass of wool and rubber? This guy was my Swingball. But I didn't have a bat.

I'm not hating on him. Sobered up and in the right situation he's probably lovely, but drunk, in a club, when I just wanted to sing 212, I was not interested. Even turning around didn't help, how am I supposed to throw my arms up in the air when instructed by Taio Cruz, if they're preoccupied with batting away hands that are roaming around like a blind person looking for dropped keys?!

'We'll be back in a second' inevitably followed, and I dashed off, ordering my friend to return immediately as her catch didn't have the eyes of a murderer. Just call me Cupid. 

________________________________________________________________________

On another note, this all happened at the beach party, complete with ageing, Hawaiian shirt wearing, totally brilliant beach boys tribute band. This is me and Jess, getting all beachy and stuff.

JUST WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW...

...because of the font I've chosen for post titles, there's a few seconds where it appears in comic sans before loading. I hate these seconds as much as you do.

Still can't hack freshers

Not a lot to report. Was home by 1.30am again. Had a mild panic attack when I thought my student finance hadn't gone through, but it turns out I was counting to 8 instead of 9. These next three years could be fun.

Today's plan was to pop into the uni campus for scones, but this turned out to be a Christian event, and no matter how good their jam/cream ratio is, I can't handle religion being forced down my throat in this fragile state. And I don't think the vicar/priest/grand high witch will appreciate their service interrupted as I chuckle my way through jesus-everywhere.tumblr.com. Check it out, you won't regret it, but you may run into trouble at the pearly gates.

So we're going to attempt another trip to the beach, there's a giant deckchair, I'm going to get a picture in front of it like a tourist, will upload later. Tonight is, hopefully, a much calmer 'acoustic fayre'. Though considering on Sunday night I attempted to play a stranger's guitar this could all end in tears. And a bad rendition of the James Bond theme tune.




p.s McDonald's in in Asda here. I am 100% dead pleased.

Can't hack freshers.

I have a 16 piece cutlery set. 

What single man could ever need 16 pieces of cutlery in one go. I think this sums up my university experience, aka, I haven't got a bloody clue what I'm doing. Yesterday I managed to fit all my clothes into my room here in Bournemouth, and I think I was so overwhelmed with this achievement that I sort of stopped thinking about anything else. I'm worried, because I feel absolutely fine. I haven't wept for my old bed... I did some washing up. And now I'm sitting in my room surrounded by 36 packets of hula hoops that I got for a fiver and thinking this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me.

I think I've been helped by the fact that I will literally talk to anyone; although what I end up saying to these people may become a hindrance as we all sober up next week and everyone begins to question why they accepted my friend request...3 minutes after meeting. Last night we got so drunk that we were all home by 1.30am. We tried to find the beach, which is a mere 5 minute walk away if you're not under the influence of sambuca, but got so lost that we ended up returning home, lying on the sofas and wondering if we're going to toughen up as the week goes on. I sure hope so because tonight is (have a bucket at the ready) 'back 2 skool night'. It's ok I vomited too. My pet hate of all fancy dress, but this is freshers and what's done is done, though I may just wear normal clothes, take a pound, and tell them I'm having a non uniform day for comic relief. 

I haven't cooked anything yet. Am going to see how long I can last and then, when I'm on my last legs, I'll break out the spaghetti hoops. I have the essentials, vodka and mixers, Sensations and a toothbrush. Freshers has my soul now.

These are my flatmates. They're not half bad you know.