that I haven’t dreamed of you and I/and marriage in an orange grove

Rose’s dad brought us a telly. He’s in the business of TV sets, I believe. So we have a giant screen in the sitting room. As I type this they, with Rachel and Becky (the unofficial 6th Flat 68er) are watching the close of Last King of Scotland. Mmm, depressing.

Cooking this week has been a little less prosaic and a little more expensive, featuring deliciously experimental things involving sausages and olives and actual vegetables and Caesar salad dressing dripped everywhere. In a shocking turn of events I have gone to ANOTHER SHOP – Aldi, who are slightly downmarket from even Sainsbury’s, and provided cheap olives and sundries.

I also bought a little red screwdriver of my very own to unscrew my HDD to bring to Bristol and help with general flatmate handiness.

I have made two rounds of flapjack this week; despite the distressing crumbliness (I think it’s down to using coarse unrefined demerara rather than the soft brown sugar I should be) people seem to like it very much; the consignment Becky took up to the flat directly above me was eaten by Tom. On the one hand it meant the other half of the tray was needed to ensure Siz and Sophie got their fair share; on the other hand I have better names for telling the Toms apart! Where there was “Blond Tom” and “Dark-Haired Tom”, there is now plain “Tom” and “Bastard Flapjack Thief”. So I need to buy better sugar, and a really big bag of oats this time, and some sort of Tom-distracting tool.

I went to Bristol on the Friday. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder – I got showered with roast chicken and a hot water bottle and parental love and all the tea I could inhale. Sleeping in my own old bed was strange, finding Nick’s weeks-old cake by the pillow and dirty socks under the mattress far stranger – that should be my cake, those should be my socks. That should be my decade’s worth of accumulated loose change sitting in that jar and drawer where it fucking isn’t [frownyface].

I went to see the Edwards house play at school, which was not good, and then to meet COGS for the pre-lan freshers’ social. Which was magic, as usual, and the most stunning contrast to CVGsoc. I got a Panzersticker and conversed animatedly til hoarse and was man-hugged from all directions with terrible passion. We COGSers love each other hard and long, for who else will have us?

The LAN party was as good as any I’d ever been to. I got to play multiplayer TA for the first time in… seven years or so, and the TF2 was glorious, and the L4D was brutal, and the pizza was delicious, and the apples were sweet, and the players were boisterous and joyful, and it was just general fun, and SUN TZU SAID THAT, and I’ll be back for more.

This week’s total expenditures:


One thought on “that I haven’t dreamed of you and I/and marriage in an orange grove

  1. So you’re gonna make the trip for future LANs? \o/

    I completely forgot to have a proper look at SUN TZU SAID THAT, was too busy playing TF2 and enjoying you and WildFire fighting over me and receiving gamey gifts from people I barely know.

    Medics, man. They love me.

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