Bekky & Paul's Adventures in Leicester

After more than three months at university, when the rest of the city had gone home for Christmas, Paul and I packed up our stuff and crammed it into the back of my little Fiesta. Now I don’t want you thinking that I don’t love my car, because I do, but sometimes (well, nearly all the time) there’s something wrong with it. Recently the battery’s been really naff and losing charge because it’s been sitting on the drive for a while being chilly. Luckily one of the NUSCR freshers, Ed, has been an absolute leg-end and got his dad to bring him his battery charger to uni so I could borrow it. Actually, the day I charged the car was quite good fun and made Tommy & I feel just like locals (which I suppose we are). We worked out which way round the things went and hooked it all up, but because people were waiting at the bus stop and being generally creepy we thought it would be better to close the bonnet. Without wanting to sound mean, our drive attracts more idiots than an idiot convention in Idiotville, when the idiot circus is visiting. They watch us come out of the house and get into a the car, which they’re standing in front of. They watch us put our seatbelts on. They watch us start the engine. They watch us gesture wildly that we’re about to drive towards them and run them over. Still they stand there. Numpties, the lot of them! Anyway, I was talking about the bonnet. Those of you who have charged a car battery whilst it’s still in the car will know that the croc clips come up vertically, so closing the bonnet would knock them off. You therefore need something shoe-sized to prop it up a little bit, but obviously a shoe would get pretty dirty under there, so using our own shoes was not an option. This is where our local knowledge came in; anyone who walks past the P&J on their way to university will probably know that there’s a pair of trainer-y things that are always lined up in front of the bench in the P&J’s front garden. They’ve been there for weeks and weeks and are now wet through and disgusting – perfect for propping open a bonnet! The T-dawg and I sauntered casually down the road and over to the bench to inspect the shoes. Yes, they were just as rank up close as from a distance. Tommy almost picked one up with his bare hands but couldn’t go through with it so I pinched the laces whilst wearing gloves and we ran back to the car with our treasure. Problem solved!

Our new band uniforms

But I digress. Paul & I set off for Leicester (well, sort of south of Leicester really), but we took a wrong turning at the first roundabout because I went into autopilot and started driving to Big Asda. It was all okay though because it’s still easy to get to the M1 from there, just taking a little detour via Clifton, which was incidentally where I saw my first ever badger in real life, dead at the side of the road. Still, a badger sighting is a badger sighting! We hopped onto the M1 and cruised southward, singing along to all the songs that came on the iPod (well, I sang, Paul said funny things). We knew we had to get off the motorway at the junction after Leicester, but it didn’t seem right at the time so we carried on to the next junction, only to find that it was miles and miles and miles away! We came off at the next junction and had to drive all the way back up to Paul’s house, but it was quite nice really because the route took us through all sorts of little villages with names like ‘Husbands Bosworth’. We also went into Paul’s village via the roundabout, so we went round it twice for good measure.

Being daft in the car

No-one was in when we got home so we had some carbohydrates for lunch and dosed around with our guitars for a while. Later on we jollied off to the incredibly exciting Highcross Leicester, where Paul drove round a multi-storey car park for the first time ever.

“Oh no, oh no” said Paul
“No, it’s totally fine” said Bekky
“Oh no! Oh no!” said Paul

It really was totally fine though and we parked up safely. I embarrassed myself a little bit during the walk from the car to the stairs though by completely tripping over one of the really big sticking-up lights in the middle of the road. We laughed a lot.

Paul with the G-Star guy, just for Tommy

There’s a really nifty walkway between the car park and John Lewis (which has gorgeous fancy walls) which is made out of what we could only assume was that self-cleaning glass because the raindrops were beading even on the vertical surfaces and running off super-fast.

We had a nice little mooch around the shops before trying (and failing) to get locked in John Lewis. Something involving Paul, one of my body parts and possible amputation (or something like that) happened whilst in the games & sports section, but I can’t quite remember the specifics. We found the little children’s tennis racquets and had a little game of imaginary tennis too, which thinking about it now may have something to do with the potential incident, but as I said before, I can’t be sure. After messing about for a little while longer we moseyed on down to the cinema which, just like the one in Westfield Derby the night before, was some sort of deluxe affair. It was very impressive and we got half price tickets to a film too embarrassing to mention thanks to Pauly’s mum giving us a voucher she had. We were way to early for the film so we went upstairs to have a little look around, but there was nothing to do so we just came back down again much to the amusement of the cinema attendants, who also had nothing better to do than watch us make fools of ourselves failing to find the down escalator.

“I hope that in the coming year I can increase the frequency with which I pleasure my husband with my hands, and with my mouth” said the old woman in the film.

Aliens!

The next day I got up fairly late. Paul had been up already to get the cat, Watty, and had taken her back to bed with him, so I joined in too. Watty was having none of it though and ran to sit out on the landing.

“I’m not staying on the same bed as someone as scary as her!” said Watty.

That morning we had a nice little drive out to this place called ‘Foxton Locks’ where we had a look at a canal, and a canal boat, and a canal boat on the canal, and 10 locks, and a canal boat on the canal using one of the 10 locks. It was really nice there actually and it was a lovely morning (almost frosty walk weather!) so we had a nice wander round before stopping at the pub for a cup of tea and some chips. In fact, I had tea and Paul had coffee again, which he’s taken quite a liking to recently. In Café Nero last week he decided to have some coffee and chose an espresso. He changed his mind though when the woman behind the counter told him exactly what an espresso was, and took her suggestion of an Americano. Anyway, after a few hours at the locks (and lots of ideas for freaking out Roy Wood) we went home again (which was only possible because my wonderful car started, yippee!) and dossed on our guitars once more, this time playing Christmas songs and making vague attempts at anything written by Roy Wood. I spotted some home videos on the shelf in the sitting room so we watched one of those too. I don’t think my description of any of the funny bits will do them justice, so next time you see Paul remember to ask him to demonstrate a celebration during a game of cricket.

Paul with his mouth open in the car

Before long it was time to set out to Harborough Leisure Centre to interview Roy Wood so we had some tea (which involved beans in a bowl!) and dressed up nicely. When we got there we (well, I) were pretty jittery which was made worse by the absence of Dave, our contact at the venue. A guy went to look for him but couldn’t find him anywhere, so I gave him a ring (why I didn’t ring him first I’m not sure; all common sense had gone out of the window Roy Wood, Roy Wood!) and he wasn’t even at the leisure centre! We sat down at a little table to wait, and it felt quite like we were outside a little café in Paris or Rome so we took a photo. Looking at it now it seems nothing like that, but you have to remember that we were nervous and are always insane. We waited for absolutely ages, and then a little bit longer. At first the wait just made me more nervous, but then after a while I sort of got used to it and was back to normal by the time Roy arrived and shook my hand when we were introduced by Dave. We then had to wait a bit longer after that, but the real sound check was happening by then so at least we had something to watch. Paul and I had spent so many solid days in each others’ company by that time that, although it was amazing and we were having a faberoony time (as you all know, I love Paul! Purely dry love of course, just to clarify for you NUSCRites who know of such things), we had started talking so much rubbish you wouldn’t believe it. I can’t even remember the sort of things we were talking about, but rest assured they were thoroughly ridiculous!

What a lovely French cafe

Finally it was time to do the interview so we followed Dave, Roy and three people from Harborough FM into the ‘dressing room’, which was really just Paul’s old football changing room with some cold meats laid out on a table. We let the HFM people go first because they just wanted a photo and an autograph (so not cool!), then got down to our cut-throat groundbreaking interview. Obviously in keeping with tradition I offered him a lolly and he chose a drumstick. I warned him that it would stick his teeth together though, so he wisely held onto it till the end of the interview. Paul was not so sensible. He started trying to eat his lolly while I was talking, and got in the biggest mess I’ve ever seen anyone make with a drumstick. To start with, he could only get odd strips of the paper off so those fluffy white bits were all over it. Then the stick came out, so he just sort of had to lick it out of the wrapper and use his fingers, making a huge sticky mess that he accidentally left on the floor by his chair when we went! His contribution to the interview was also a classic.

“So…things…..tell me about them”

No, not really, he only said that in his head. This is what really happened:

“What’s the lowest turnout you’ve ever had to a gig? Has it ever been just one man and his dog?” said Bekky
“Something something something, no, we’ve always had good crowds, something something something” said Roy Wood in his Brummie accent
“What’s the biggest turnout you’ve ever had for a gig?” said Paul the Numpty

Haha, it was hilarious the way he said it, I think maybe you had to be there, but honestly it was a classic nervous Paul. It worked out really well in the end though because Roy gave us an ace answer. Cheers Pauly!

After the interview we had a quick photo with Roy, and I even managed to fit in a casual fondle of his beard. There was only a minor incident on the way out of the dressing room when I had a bit of an issue with the saloon doors which hindered the opening of the real door, but after a few loud exclamations all was resolved and we got out alive. We bounced down the corridor and into Dave, who was coming the other way. We shook his hand again and said thank you more times than I thought was humanly possible, and he took us into the roller disco hall where the gig was (who would’ve thought?!). I trailed round after Paul for a while he looked for people he knew (he found some too, including Lucy’s mum & dad in the foyer later, and one of his old teachers), and we watched the support act who was very good but to be quite honest with you was taking the piss a little bit with an hour-long set.

Eventually Roy came on, and blew us away with California Man. I’d forgotten how much I love a two and a half minute tune! Every song was fantastic, and I sang along at the top of my voice to them all. He was fab fab fab! I’ll stop now before I go crazy with musical love, except to tell you that he finished with ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’. It was as magical as you would expect, and he even did the ‘Okay you lot, take it!’ bit. What a legend!

Paul & I with our new best friend

When the gig was over and we were walking out (well, bouncing really), everyone was feeling more festive than tinsel and we met Dave, so I shook his hand again and he pulled me in, patting my back and kissing my cheek, and wished me a very merry Christmas. It was so nice! Gill from the website was there too, which was nice because she was the one who’d put me in touch with Dave in the first place. You meet the most amazing people doing this sort of thing, it makes me feel warm inside…

….so all there is left to say is….



….Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!

Cardiff is in Wales. ACTUAL WALES!

My second weekend of fun (not that the other weekends weren't fun too - I mean second weekend away really) started on Hallowe'en. My labs are now on Thursday, so I have Fridays free (woot to the absolute max). At sensible o'clock on Friday morning I packed up my nice shoes, knitting, snacks and altered badger costume and trekked into town. Usually the walk into town is a piece of piss, but there is only so much wool a girl can carry on her back and I think I'd reached my limit. I got to the train station just in time and, having remembered my tickets, got straight on the train.

The journey was pretty freezing, and by the end I was so cold that I had to wrap the scarf I was knitting round my head and knit really close to my face because it wasn't really long enough back then. To be honest with you it was the most sensible thing to do under the circumstances because I read somewhere that you lose about 104% of your body heat from your head, but the woman opposite me was quite clearly not of the same opinion, and after a few minutes of the new headgear she got up. I assumed she was getting off the train at the next stop, but later on I saw her sitting a few seats away! What an absolute loon!

We eventually rolled into Cardiff and I waited in WH Smith for Helen because they had the heating on. We walked through the city to her halls, which looked more like sheltered accommodation than halls from the outside, but were lovely and warm inside. I got quite emotional when we were in her room, because it felt like I was really back living in halls and I don't ever want to have to do that again! Urgh. Anyway, after a while of waiting for her fab friend Sylvester to rouse himself (this was about 6pm), I borrowed a meal card ("...if anyone asks, my name is Katie Jessica Hall") and we went for tea. They only get fed evening meals during the week, but it was quite an impressive spread, with chilli wraps and branded fizzy pop.

After tea we mosied (is that how you spell it?) on back to the halls and started getting ready for the Hallowe'en party that would be going on downstairs later. I was dressing up as the Playboy Bunny of Death, thus combining my unused Playboy Bunny costume that I was going to wear to Oceana last year, and the badger costume from 7 Legged. Really it was just the same as the badger costume without trousers. I felt a little bit like Superman actually, because I was wearing my knickers on the outside of my tights! Helen dressed up as a spider, which I thought was incredibly original and ingenious, although it took a while to understand how 2 pairs of tights gave her 8 legs (if you were wondering, which I'm sure you were, her arms and legs counted as the other four. We saw a little boy dressed as a spider in town the next day who had 12 legs, because his costume, unlike Helen's, didn'ttake into account his natural limbs). She even tied two of the legs to her wrists, so they lifted up when she raised her arms. It was great! It was a bit of a struggle to get all legs on the floor at once though, here's a picture of her trying:

Splaying of legs was needed. One might even go as far as to say that they were open for business

Just before the party started we nipped to the shop to buy some wine and, living up to our reputation of being classy ladies, we bought the cheapest bottle in the shop. Considering the price (£3.29!), it was actually okay, although I think that it's pleasantness-rating was directly proportional to how much of it we'd had to drink. Either way, it made the broom game (learned the week before with Explorers) even more hilarious that it would have otherwise been...

"Okay, you start like this...."

Helen attempting the tricky step

WILL NOT COMPUTE. WILL NOT COMPUTE!

----I'll finish this later, I should probably go and do some revision----

I went to the Lake District and nearly dissolved!

Ooh, I've just had a fabby fab fab weekend in the Lake District! We were supposed to be meeting at stores (where all the Explorers kit is stashed - incidentally I found some Viking horns in there, but I think they belonged to Canoe Club) at 6:15pm, but of course despite having no lectures all day I was on the last minute after a difficult debate over chocolate in Tescor Metror. I forgot my gloves and power walked all the way to campus and up Portland Hill with my pack on, but made it with time to spare! Tommy and Paul were supposed to be coming too, but they'd changed their minds that week so I was by myself. To be honest with you though I reckon it was better that way - I've made friends with a girl! Her name is Fiona and I think she's naturally a little soft-core, but really stepped it up a notch this weekend :) There were quite a few freshers on the trip too (No, there was no FAFing, Rebecca!). We set off vaguely on time, but obviously it took forever to get to the Lakes, partly because of the distance, partly because of traffic, and partly due to the fact that we went in quite a few circles trying to find our barn in the dark. We even managed to drive through some sort of carpark, into the woods, and out the other side...


Anyway, we got there at about 1 in the morning and unloaded the van (all our gear was in a van, and we were in the minibus which had nearly been shaken to pieces by Tim & Aslin's driving down the country lanes). Somehow a couple of brooms appeared and Martin was trying to do a trick where you start out holding the broom with two hands in front of you. You then step over it so it's behind you, and bring it over your head so it's back in front of you again. 'Easy peasy!' I hear you cry! Well, no, it's not, because there's more. Your hands are the wrong way round at this point, so you have to go round again, till you're really back where you started. That's the hard bit! After I'd had a go and failed to do it, it was my mission: the broom must be defeated. We kept going for ages with the bags all around us (when a broom is mocking you, there is no time for unpacking) until Jenn's Chris finally cracked it. I think he's one of the most flexible people I've ever met, and it really came in handy during the Hut Games on the Saturday night!

The barn was surprisingly lovely. I'd been expecting a big shed with no beds or electricity, but in actual fact it had a full complement of doors, a wood-burning stove, mattresses on shelves, a toilet, two sinks and a shower (which no-one used, obvs)!

We pretty much crashed out then, and woke up bright and early the next day to hot porridge on the stove and a full complement of condiments on the table. We all ate and faffed about for a little while before donning our waterproofs and setting off on our walk down the valley. It was raining quite hard when we left, but as we progressed down the valley it got worse and worse, till we had to walk with our eyes shut because it was so sore!

The wind was blowing so hard that I was almost blown over about three times, and the boys had to hold me down. My coat was acting like a sail, and at one point I was trying to walk into the wind with all my might, but was actually moving backwards! I've honestly never been so wet in my entire life - when we got back to the hut we stripped off our waterproofs immediately and hung them in our makeshift drying room-cum-sitting room, but everything underneath was soaked through too. It's a wonder no-one dissolved, honestly. So, all the other layers had to come off too, to be swapped for dry clothes, but really there was very little point in that because my skin was so wet that it wouldn't dry, so I ended up sticking to the dry clothes. Once we'd all made a vague attempt at changing we donned waterproofs again (to a lower degree; all we needed to do was get to the van) and went to the nearest pub, a 20 minute drive away. We pretty much packed the place out and commandeered the tables nearest to the fireplace so we could dry our boots while we drank and chatted.

That night Chris made some great chilli for us all, which went pretty quickly! Once we'd finished eating we got down to some serious drying - Dan, one of the freshers, had been drying his trousers on top of the stove and left them there for a minute while he popped upstairs to get his wet socks. He was gone a little longer than he'd expected and forgot all about his trousers, and came back to find them melted to the stove! When he peeled them off, shards of burnt trouser were flaking everywhere. Unfortunately they were his only pair of trousers, so I let him borrow my spare pair (incidentally, he still has them - I must get them back before Christmas!). A little while later we progressed upstairs to play hut games, which were so much fun - I don't think I've laughed so much in my entire life! There was the saucepan game, where a sling is put around an upturned saucepan on the floor. Two people then stand on the pan, trying to balance while one of them slithers down the other (lots of jokes along the lines of, 'are you going down on me, or shall I go down on you?'), picks up the sling and wiggles it over both of them until they're both free (harder than it looks!):

Next, we had a go at a human bridge, from the step at one side of the room to the wall at the other end. I was dreadful at this one, and after accidentally groping three bums fell off before the end.

Eventually, when I was safely on camera duty, they managed it!

Next up was people climbing. Fiona did a spectacular job of climbing Clive:

Unfortunately when I climbed Alkis, he forgot to catch me, so I ended up with my feet on the floor. That would've been fine if he'd just let go then so we could start again, but he tried to lift me up again by my back, pushing my head into his bum! It was slightly horrific, but we had another go after I'd breathed fresh air again and were a bit more successful:

And as if that wasn't exciting enough, the twister mat came out!

And I nearly forgot about the cardboard box game! Who would've thought I can pick a 5 pence piece up off the floor with just my feet on the ground??

Once again at ridiculous o'clock we snuggled into our big shelf-bed

The next day we (well, the meat eaters) had bacon as a treat for breakfast with the usual porridge. The group then split into 3 sub-groups to go mountain biking, climbing and walking. I was in the walking group (because we're quite clearly the best), and we went up one of the hills near Lake Ennerdale. It was a pretty flooded route, as you can see from the picture below - the rivers were all flowing over the bridges, which made it pretty difficult at times until we realised that we didn't give a monkeys and just waded through.


It was quite chilly on the side of the hill so we were all looking very attractive in our warm gear. I've left out some of the worse photos...

Fiona and I found a rock to surf on...

We made it back to the hut just 2 hours late, and went home! It was such an amazing weekend, I'm totally gutted that I didn't have time to go on any more this term :( Join Explorers, everyone!

Nottingham Adventures

Last Week I drove back to Nottingham to move in properly. I think I may have taken a little detour (which involved a cul-de-sac in Tunstall), but apart from that it all went surprisingly well; I even managed to park on my drive (I live on a really busy - but fabulous - road) with the boot facing the front door without runing over a daft Chinese student who seemed to think that it was a good idea to stand in front of my car whilst I was driving towards her. She was on my fricking property, maybe I should have just given her a bit of a nudge with the bonnet to teach her a lesson. Perhaps not.

Luckily I'd remembered my keys, so I opened up and turned off the alarm like a profesh, and moved my stuff in. My room is (once again) right at the top of the house, but it's totally worth it because it's the most spectacular room a girl could have. For those of you on Facebook, you can see the photo of my laadylike bed. Laurah's pretty jealous because I have a fab house and, in her words, she is going to be living in 'a shit house of crap' (I may have paraphrased, but it goes something like that). It's okay thought because she has a shag rug to compensate. She lies on it and says '...welcome to my....boudoir' in a sexy voice. Yes. She does. She once offered her shag rug out for it's intended purpose (judging by the name), but I turned it down. I'm now beginning to think that's where I went wrong...

Anyway, after a while Jonty came round and we ordered pizza (with spinach, green peppers and something else on it because those were the only toppings we agreed on) and watched the Coupling DVD he'd brought round. Not that we actually watched much of it (wait for the rest of the sentence before you make any innuendos, lads) - we hadn't seen each other for months so there was a fair bit of chat to catch up on.


As the old something goes, early to bed, early to rise, so on Thursday morning I was up nice and early. I had a bit of poorly made porridge for breakfast whilst listening to Terry and the TOGs. You might wonder how I could possibly fail to make porridge, since it's one of the most basic meals known to man, consisting of just two ingredients, but I haven't made it since my World Challenge days of cooking for 15 hungry trekkers using a drop of meths and soggy matches. Using a microwave is altogether faster, and it shocked me how fast things happened. After the minor breakfast fiasco I donned my abandoned running gear (I haven't been running all summer. I confess, father, please forgive me etc etc) and set off into Lenton. I ran past a balloon & flower shop that also sold vegetables, so if they're reasonably priced I may go there instead of Saaainsbury's Lorcal to suppost my local economy and whatnot. I also clocked Bargain Booze and Bag O' Nails, which were a lot closer than they seemed last time I was there. Perhaps it was because I was running or perhaps it was because there had been a shift in the position of the rift in the universe which was previously over Cardiff. Perhaps neither.

So after my run I was feeling pretty gosh darn boiling but I still thought some aerobics were in order. Popmaster etc was on the radio by this point, and Ken was playing some pretty fab tracks so I started doing star jumps etc. I was far too hot though, and the only sensible solution was to close the curtains (although there aren't any curtains at the kitchen window, so I'm glad we aren't overlooked) and strip off, thus turning my normal aerobics into much more exciting naked aerobics. I texted Tommy to tell him. He replied like Borat, and happiness was experienced by both parties. After naked aerobics (which may only become a termly event when no-one else is in the house) I went to have a naked bath. That's more normal though, because it would be daft to wear your clothes in the bath. Whist the water was running (incidentally, when the bath taps are switched off it sounds like someone is coming up the stairs. They aren't though, I checked) I went to get some bath salt things that Catherine had given me for a present years ago. They'd been making my underwear drawer smell lovely for agesm and I thought it was finally time to use them. I could only find the yellow ones, thanks goodness, because when I put them in the bath they dyed my fingers and the water yellow, and glitter appeared everywhere as if from nowhere! I was so incredibly scared that they were going to dye the white bath yellow too, but by that time there was nothing I could do because it was nearly full. All I could do was enjoy my time in the water, almost certain that I was going to come out looking like a Smurf seen through a green filter. I think. Or a red filter? I forget. Anyway, I needn't have worried because all the yellow and glitter washed away down the plug hole and I had a shower under a weeing elephant to get the last of the glitter out of my hair.

By this time I was starving so I went to Saaainsbury's Lorcal and bought some cheese, apples & carrots and had a quick lunch back at the house. Tommy arrived just before I went to Physics so we had a quick chat and off I went on my bicycle down the road. Because I have lots of brains to protect, I wore my helmet which says 'Rebecca, Year 3' inside it. I think I'll call it retro. Or vintage?

That evening Tommy and I watched '13 going on 30: Fun & Flirty Edition'. I can assure you that it was a spectacular study of the human psyche and gave a wonderful insight into the world of journalism. Perhaps not, but it was jolly good! Tommy slept upstairs with me that night (NOT like that, Rob. We are FRIENDS) partly because he was scared of his wardrobe of death (I checked inside it for dead bodies, just to make sure), and partly because his bed was vertical.

Tommy: 'Bekky, I'd check inside your wardrobe every night if I were you, in case someone's in there'
Bekky: 'Don't be silly Tommy. There are too many dresses in there. There isn't any room for a person in there'



Tommy: 'Bekky, I'd never be able to have my bed up against a grate like yours is'
Bekky: 'Why? It's closed, there won't be a draught'
Tommy: 'No, What if there's someone in there?'
Bekky: 'Would you feel better if we blu-tacked the blueprints for a shoe/tree/hot air ballon cake over the top?'
Tommy: 'Yeah, that should do it'



He also checked under the bed before we went to sleep. Bless his little cotton socks!


In the morning I was up and out early because I was being paid £10 and hour (yes! TEN POUNDS!) to help with the Physics open day at university. I was giving tours etc, and messing about with liquid nitrogen during lulls. ROb was on juice duty, which involved pouring juice for thirsty guests. He kept making such a mess, so after every tour I'd come and wipe up all the juice that was roaming free across the table, only to have to come back and do it again after the next tour. His cup-tower-building prowess compensated for the lack of pouring skills, and he managed to make a triangular based pyramid out of 120 cups!
At lunch time disaster struck; there were only meaty sandwiches! Rob was quite excited about the prospect of food and flailed all the way up to B23 with his green helper t-shirt draped over his head exclaiming,'Foooood! Fooooooooood! Gimme gimme!'.

Rob: 'Oh no, Bekky you need green sandwiches, I'll run and find some'
Bekky: 'Oh Rob, it's okay, I'll.....'
By the time I was half way through the sentence he'd gone. A minute or two later he returned, bearing vegetarian sandwiches, and panting. When he said that he'd run and get some sandwiches, he'd really meant it - he actually RAN to get them! Those boys really do know how to look after a girl. Once again, bless his little cotton socks.

That evening I was in the house by myself again, which I was fine with; I wasn't really scared because I'm hard core and totally ghetto etc etc, but just in case I didn't lay out the 'BELL RINGING' letters that I was making for Freshers' Fayre in case I turned round and they were in the wrong order when I looked back. I'm not even joking. That would be really scary. The night passed without further incident (apart from the yobs smashing up all Resham's plastic crates that were on our drive, and sitting on my car; there were footprints on the bonnet in the morning).


The next day I was running the open day again, and did loads of tours wearing the 'Open Day' sash. It was rather fetching, and matched my maroon shoes. james Sharp was surprised that I was choosing to wear it (I'd just happened across it in B23), because when it was compulsory a few years ago no-one wanted anything to do with them. It's a conundrum, to be sure.
By the end of the day the talks along the tour were getting pretty monotonous, so much so that we could recite the computing talk off by heart ('...and in the third and fourth year you'll be using Matlab in anger, so to speak...'). Toby and I were so relieved when we took one of our last tours to the Matt & Sam, in the Semiconductor department, and they'd changed their talk to include a bit of a squiggly dance from Matt. I wasn't sure if he knew he was doing it, so I did a little experiment of my own:

Matt: 'So you all know about the photoelectric effect, when electrons are released from a metal's surface' *wiggles as he talks about the release*
I put my hand up. He had, after all, said that we were welcome to ask questions at any point
Bekky: 'Sorry Matt, I just missed that last bit. Could you repeat it please?'
Matt: 'So you all know about the photoelectric effect, when electrons are released from a metal's surface' *wiggles as he talks about the release, and realises what's going on halfway through* 'so anyway, as electrons fall from one energy level to another...'
I put my hand up again.
Bekky: 'What might that look like, Matt?'
*Matt proceeds to pretend to be an electron falling from one energy level to another*

It was fab. His friend, Sam, was actually quite cute. Yes, I said cute. I think he needs to go on my list of people I need to sit on my sofa and make cups of tea for. I wouldn't say no, anyway. Perhaps I would. Or should. I think I say that too often, I'm getting rather liberal with my use of 'I SO would'. Brightened the day up, anyway!

At the end of the day most visitors had gone so I geeked it up with James and the professors (and eventually all the other helpers) and did some demonstrations. I broke a balloon. I love liquid nitrogen, in fact we all do, I don't think it ever gets boring. We didn't even have any fruit to freeze and smash that day, but we still got by. The possibilities are endless really, we even mad a giant hollow metal cigarette that really smoked at the end!

My god I love physics, and eveyone in it!



P.S. When a boy asked how often the tours were going, Rob told him 'every fifteen minutes or quarter of an hour'. Classic.

Summer, Summer!

I think last time I left you was ridiculous weeks ago, so let me fill you in on the good bits. Tommy and Paul came to visit for the weekend and we had all sorts of fun...Paul and I designed buttons, we all accidentally saw some pictures of willies in a magazine, the boys thought that 42s was called 23s...

Sometime in between then and now I went to Alton Towers with the scouts, which was really great - as everyone who was there already knows, I was really excited. REALLY excited. Lots of good stuff happened there too; Al had some gay pride Brahma, we saw a guy dressed in a medieval getup trying to sell a cold meal for £2, our eardrums were nearly burst on Corkscrew (yep, still the worst rollercoaster ever), and I blacked our on Nemesis. It was okay though, I came round before the end so I could enjoy the last bit. The log flume was a little stressful though, because as you can see in the picture I was sitting in front of Mouse, between his legs. The whole ride was quite traumatic because there was the constant fear of...well, you know. Bum rape. There was the advantage of knowing which bits scared him, like when the big yellow chicken came out of the wall and his knees started digging into my sides!

Dad played a gig in Cheadle at some point, and some of the gang came along too, which was nice. There was this crazy woman dancing away in front of us, I think you had to be there, but she was swishing her hair all over the place. You know it. She LOVED it. And the boys loved it too, so much that they took to copying her; after all, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. I bet they're growing their hair right now so they can join in.

Helen also said some daft things that night...I think it was her that said, during a conversation about drugs, 'What makes you speedy?' I've never heard so many people say 'SPEED' in unison before. It was fairly impressive! Helen also has the same Converse as Nim:

Bekky:...'but Nim's are like skis'

Helen: 'Who's ski?'

*Hearty laughs all round*

Dotty P's

Isn't it weird how a week can seem both really action-packed and dull at the same time?

This has been one of those weeks.

On Friday I did very little - walking the dog with Laurah (I think it was that Friday - I could be getting mixed up. I'm sure she'll correct me), taking Helen's prom dress back to her (I was devastated, it's a really beautiful dress!) etc etc...but then I got a call at ridiculous o'clock from one of the Scouts seeing if I wanted to go and see Batman at the cinema, and the next thing I knew I was shouting 'penis' out of a car window on Washway Road! To be perfectly honest with you, as I almost always am, I really don't know why I went because I hated the other Batman film - I waited for about an hour for it to get going, but it never did. This Batman was fab though, the Joker (Heath Leger - he's dead, you know. And Jet Lee is the Chinese one, Helen) *Haha, I just remembered that I found out the week before I went on holiday that George Michael is gay! I'd always thought he was a bit camp...* Back to the Joker, he was fab, like a cross between Johnny Depp playing Jack Sparrow and Edward Scissorhands. When Joe dropped me off at home afterwards I forgot to give his medal back to him, which I'd borrowed from his car. Initially I thought he just had some nice green ribbon in there for fun, but it was actually attached to a medal he'd got for coming in third place in something to do with hockey. I'd go and check it now to be totally sure, but I posted it back to him yesterday.


It was Dad's 21st birthday on Saturday. Well, that's what he wants people to think. I think his 19-year-old daughter might give him away, don't you? In the morning we went to the Traff for brunch and to buy a new telly. I freaked out quite a bit because we have a perfectly good TV as it is, and we really don't need so many sodding material posessions, but Dad had just got a bonus and it was his birthday, and everyone else was psyched so I looked at the knives while they did the deed. Mum told me on the quiet that because this TV was really more of a treat for all of them than me Dad had said he'd buy me a dress, but really I think he should know me by now. I freaked out some more at the thought of my own father thinking I'd need something because they all got something too. How disgusting. I'm sure he was only doing it because he was feeling generous, but I just hate hate hate people buying stuff for me, I'd rather he gave me the money and I could buy him a harmonica or something. Oh my god, I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it, I'm going to move on now.

After the trauma at the Traff I went to Didsbury to ring at my first wedding! I was as scared as peas about it, but it actually went really well! I got really bad blisters, but it was so worth it :)

Sunday came around and some stuff happened. I can't really remember any specifics, but in the evening I went ringing in Bowdon and took the tops off my blisters again, but that was worth it too because I got loads of ringing time and saw my article in the Ringing World! It has Colin Lee's name on it, but Rich and I wrote it. You can totally tell, hehe!

Monday night was ridiculously exciting. I was due to be interviewing Paul Wilkes at the Buxton Opera House that evening, and he'd managed to score me guestlist + 1 so I took Dad because the main act, Joan Armatrading, used to be one of his favourites. We got to Buxton a little earlier than planned because there was hardly any traffic, so we had a wander round the lovely triangular park and had a beer on the patio. I didn't even get asked for ID :)
We had a minor kerfuffle getting in - the first woman we asked didn't know where the guestlist was, so she sent us to another woman who didn't know either, and another one etc etc until we ended up practically back where we started. But we were in! The seats were in a great place, and Paul was amazing, so much better than I remember him. The review should be in The Mic in September if it is deemed printable, so you can read it then if you want to. At the interval (yes, you heard me, INTERVAL! This was a classy shindig) I went and met up with Paul and he kissed me on the cheek. This threw me a little because he's Liverpudlian and, by stereotype, is as hard as nails. Although as I'm thinking about it now, I've only ever met one proper hard Scouser and all she wanted was to know the time. As we were talking, a man came up to him and asked if he'd sign a CD, so he did, and before long a perpetually renewing queue had formed behind, all wanting autographs. The line eventually subsided by the time Joan Armatrading was due to go on, so Paul and I (and a couple of his mates, one of which runs Deebees, in real Cheshire (not the imitation Cheshire that I live in). It's a small world!) went to the pub, had a drink and did the interview. I had to creep in halfway through Joan's set but I was sneaky and no-one seemed to notice. The Joan review I've done may also be in The Mic. Go read it, dudes!

On the way home from Buxton we stopped at the friendliest and most delicious chinese chippy. Go there. You know it.

So, to Tuesday...probably the only person that is reading this blog was there, along with Anna, so reminisce sweet Laurah, reminisce!

So, minus a few crazily important things I'm sure, that has bee my week so far. Oh, except B*Witched have agreed to do an email interview thing with me, and I bought two long-sleeved tops from Dorothy Perkins (hereafter known as Dotty P's) for £3.60 in the sale and with my student card. Bargain!

P.S. When I find the camera cable I'll be able to show you some fab photos :)

Getting busted on the way to the liquor store!

I was in Tennessee the other week, and had a little run-in with the law that I thought you all might like to hear about! We were on our way to the liquor store in another county because the one we were staying in was dry, and there were no speed limit signs on the road so we just guessed. Of course we guessed wrong and got caught by the sheriff who started chasing after us with his lights flashing and telling us over that loudspeaker thing (which is REALLY loud in real life) to pull over at the next possible opportunity. So after about 2 miles of being followed we pulled over and the guy came over and said something like, 'Hey folks, I'm Sergeant Bubba Hicksbury of the Sevierville County Sheriffs, please produce your licence and registration' Can you believe it! And, because it was my family, we'd obviously got all that in the glove box where most Americans keep their hand guns so we had to open it really slowly so he knew that we wouldn't shoot him with our non-existent weapon. Anyway, one thing led to another and we managed to dodge a ticket, AND came out with a really good map and directions to the liquor store. So there you go! We fought the law and we won :)

Ooh, and another night while we were in Sevierville we went to a drive-thru, and there was this really funny bin with an appendage on the top so you could reach it from your car (god forbid an American in search of food would have to exert himself). We drove up to it and Dad thought that it was the thing you place your order at. We realised pretty much straight away that it was just a funny bin, but then he talked into it anyway and ordered Phil's meal like an absolute numpty, I mean, have any of your Dad's knowingly ordered a burger from a fancy bin?? I do love that guy, he's wonderfully ridiculous. Just how dads are supposed to be, I guess!