Welcome bloglings

Hello everyone.
Well, after taking a long-term hiatius from my Myspace blog I have set up a new home here. I think I am going to like it - blogspot in itself looks more professional and does not offer the Kudos option which I found annoying because I never got any. I also predicted the decline of Myspace and chose to end my blog before it ended me.

Arguably no-one gives a shit anyway, but here we are.

I have been at university for 43 days, The University of Central Lancashire to be geographically precise. And I am enjoying it. I have made some valid friendships and took part in some traditional freshers' activities - throwing up outside the student union, knowingly consuming stale toastie loaf and off milk, sleeping through a lecture...and something else confidential.....all things which twelve months ago when I was a legal secretary eating a packed lunch I did not anticipate I would take part in. Especially not eating the off food. I think my immune system is all the better for it.

Last weekend I embarked upon a time-honoured university experience: bringing one of my new friends home with me for the weekend. Bringing Milton Keynes to the Valley. And predictably, her first reaction was "ooh it's very country-ish." I'm not sure if they have hills in Milton Keynes, but we have a lot at home, plenty to go around. We also have a steam train railway, the last temperance bar in Britain, and a collosal Asda of an offensive size, which was impressive to my visitor, moreso than the former two.

On Friday night we went to an acoustic jazz night at Cafe Artisan in Rawtenstall. The singer was Kristianne, the tipple was Margarita, the company was semi-professionals and the entrance fee was nil. Before we left the house my priority was to dress my mum up for a Sex and the City night with her friends, so I chose to base her look on Samantha (my mum has never seen SatC and probably a good job because she is a devout Catholic) and provided her with an LBD and some fishnets (not very Catholic) and even a waist belt which should never normally be seen on those over forty, only in exceptional cases for example Trinny Woodall.

After some public humiliation at Kristianne's acoustic lounge, in which my Margarita was too strong and salty so Kristianne herself asked me in front of the entire crowd why I had left my drink, we made a hasty getaway.

Saturday we went shopping to Manchester and I introduced the northern quarter's vintage treats to Milton Keynes. We ate at Pop Cafe which was incredibly below par - my panini was untoasted, my cheese unmelted and my hummus undelicious - and had to squeeze into a booth because the entire floor was taken up by the National Vegan Society who seemed to be counting flyers and comparing the clarity of the aubergine in their vegan chilli.

Saturday night was X Factor night (Scott rightfully went, it will be Daniel's turn next week, let him have his two cents) with a bottle of vino and too many maltesers, and Sunday was back to uni.

The best thing of this week will hopefully be the Halloweve Promo party at 53 degrees - the university has pulled out all the stops and hired burlesque dancers, fire-eaters, a freak show and even a venom tent with snakes and scorpions in. I unfortunately have to dress as Alice in Wonderland as it is the only costume I have. However the bright side is if I am killed by a poisonous boa in a tragic accident, at least I will die dressed as my favourite literary character.