One Down . . .

Recap Today, as I'm sure you're aware, is Saturday, which means I've been here for a week and a bit (the bit as I write is about 9 hours). Last night saw a good night out at the Union (officially 'Rubix', but everyone refers to it as the former) for the first Flirt clubnight of the year, which took the form of a foam party.

Foam Someone once said "try everything once, except incest and country dancing." While I do not totally agree with this proverb, I tried out the foam part of the evening. If you've never experienced it, it's basically like a mosh-pit but with a slippery floor, the smell of soap crystals, difficulty breathing, a horrible taste in your mouth, and stinging eyes. It is also immensely fun . . . once. I bumped into my long-time friend Harry Sandman later in the evening, and we danced to some cheesy pop before returning to Pickard for a drink some nostalgia. At 4.15 we had another hoax fire alarm; less amusing this time, but permissible providing it doesn't continue into term.

Strictly Come Laundry You'd be amazed the number of people who go to the laundrette to coincide with primetime television; I think it's deliberate to avoid TV Licence fees. Despite the throngs of keen reality TV fans, my first trip to the laundrette was uneventful, if a little dull.

Present Times Now I am sitting at my desk typing this (obviously) but have had a very relaxing evening watching Spaced on 4oD and sorting out socks. The life of a student, eh? My timetable begins in earnest on Monday, and I've got my first taste of a new church tomorrow, so lots to look forward to.

God bless

J.R.