It's been an interesting weekend. Freshers' Week has certainly started with a bang, and judging from the state of my throat and nose, I may have caught freshers' flu to prove it.
Before partying on down, Jula and I went to grab a burger at Gourmet Burger Kitchen: Rikki gave us a lift in there in a minibus in exchange for me buying him a Subway for lunch. Following our late lunch, some retail therapy on High Street Kensington was in order. Jula's dress, which she will hopefully wear to the Freshers' Ball as she looks amazing in it, brings a whole new meaning to the word 'fierce'. I lived vicariously through her and didn't buy anything for myself.
The introductory talk for freshers not staying in halls was unexciting but mercifully short. Afterwards, I helped Rikki with the aforementioned taxi service, which entailed an hour or so of me sitting on the side of Jez, acting as right indicator and handing out Motor Club leaflets to my fellow passengers. Still, I got to wear a proper tunic.
An incredible number of people were present at the Mingle (and that was only about half of this year's freshers), yet I managed to find most of the people I'd spoken to on Facebook or met on Thursday.
People from Selkirk were wearing white T-shirts with 'Selkirk' written on the back. Thanks to me and my permanent marker, several of them now have 'sucks cock' scrawled underneath that.
Jo Whiley was an adequate enough substitute for Fearne Cotton- apparently Las Vegas was more important than us- but I can't accuse her of playing anything original, bar 'Death' by White Lies. She even played 'American Idiot', for goodness' sake.
My back and my feet did not thank me after my stint on the dancefloor.
While this was going on, Rikki was having "a few" pints, which I think translates to roughly six. He fell asleep on the bus home, and I can only be thankful that the bus terminated one stop after ours. Later on, he passed out on top of me. I was just marvelling at how light he was.
We didn't get out of bed until one o' clock, three hours before he would have liked to do so, and I went back to South Kensington to meet up with Jula and Maria for a Snog. They'd brought along Ivan, who can only be described as brutally honest in the funniest way possible.
Once I'd consumed my extremely late breakfast, we made our way to Orient halls and sat in the kitchen drinking Russian tea and eating Russian biscuits. Jula's feminine-voiced admirer from the previous night phoned her and ended up talking to me, not that he realised I was a completely different person.
I would have liked to spend the evening in one of the halls, but I am tired, grubby and possibly harbouring contagion. Plus I have to be up at seven tomorrow morning: that's going to be a shock to the system.
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