I am 22!
(…it’s all downhill from here, life has peaked, just ticking off the days til I die, etc…)
From my dear loving family I have been given an enormous Russian novel, a new foil for my shaver (which was a first year gift, so the circle is complete), a fresh pair of deep-blue Old Man Slippers (I go through a set a year, and it’s that time of year again) and DELANICE. Delanice is a beast of a smartphone (I’m convinced the design spec included “capable of beating a man to death”), and Pope, who has his fingers in more techie pies than I can keep count of these days, invited me to review it for MobileFun. So I did, and as a result will be scoring a snazzy new case. I know cool people.
(Delanice is a Dell Venue Pro; my previous phone was a Samsung Taylor called Tay Tay. Watch this it you’re raising an eyebrow at the names.)
On my last run down to London, to send Eli off for her year in Japan, Tom gave me a remote control helicopter (soon to be used for trolling Mason and promoting Warsoc once I’ve scored some batteries for it), and various lovely people have sent various lovely cards with several variations on the theme of “holy shit you’re old.” Thanks, guys. While I totally failed to organise anything on the day, I ought to be having an OHGODSOOLD party next week. (On the off-chance that a) you’re a friend in real life, b) you’re reading this but not my facebook, come along! Also, what is UP with you.) There will be a toast to absent bros.
Also, not-exactly-a-gift-but-may-as-well-be-one, and very cathartic (and rewarding, in all senses), has been working with Philip on SECRET PROJECTS, which I will post about once they come to fruition and once I’ve had another look at the exact details of the non-disclosure clause in the contract.
I count my blessings, and they are many. Life is good. More on uni soon.
Today the Mason residents’ association ran one of the few non-alcohol-related events of freshers’ week: a bus tour around Brum followed by all-you-can-eat Chinese. The bus was open-topped and I was on the top deck; the weather could conceivably have been worse, but it would have to work at it. The tour was excellent (Birmingham, to my surprise, has a huge and wonderful selection of good first-floor-and-up architecture from all periods), and the Chinese was not only varied and tasty, but they gave us takeaway bags (which I just had for a late supper); so really, two meals for the price of less than half.
(To one of the RA people: “How is this financially viable at £2 a head?” “Eh, we don’t really have to worry about that. Mason RA is loaded.”)
So, with most things apart from books unpacked and littering my room, I feel properly moved-in now. I have many minor quibbles with the flat itself (Mason flats seem to have been designed for illiterate party-animal students, and there are no bookshelves; a single half-broken sliding door is meant to service both the wardrobe and ensuite and does neither very well; the wet-room shower is very poorly engineered, and you end up with, well, a wet room) but no major ones; and the advantages (the excellent views, the reasonably spacious flat, the general not-having-to-fret nature of halls) certainly outweigh them.
And everything about halls is at the moment pretty academic because I’m hardly in them: I am thoroughly enjoying the term-start feeling of being as busy as a caffeinated bee. Meetings, plotting and webdesign for L4NL, event plotting and absurd guild paperwork for Warsoc, emails back and forth to cool Scholastic people. I am manning stalls on Thursday and Friday, and tomorrow I am to give an address to all the history freshers about SSC. I predict three riots and a torching.
eQ JulieT: hey, do you want a cheap big country ?
Brosencrantz: depends, is it an AIDS-ridden shithole?
eQ JulieT: dunno
eQ JulieT: i guess thats relative
eQ JulieT: relative to team captain – yea
eQ JulieT: relative to hatless engy, not so much
Brosencrantz: oh – big country as in the hat?
eQ JulieT: ye
eQ JulieT: lol
Brosencrantz: sorry, I got confused, thought you were trying to sell me libya or something
eQ JulieT: lol
eQ JulieT: i don’t own libya
Brosencrantz: well who DOES?