F-Words All Round: Freebies, Fun, and Foul Cocktails.

Last Tuesday I somehow managed to meet all my deadlines, slept for 14 hours, and drank Jack Daniels to celebrate. I ignored the fact that I have another 10,000 words due in by the end of April and decided to give myself the rest of the week off, to soak up as much fun as I possibly could before I went back to a life of instant noodles and looking like death warmed up. Also, I have a little freebie at the bottom of the post. You know, because I love you.

"...a curdled goo..."

On Thursday I headed to Bristol to celebrate Bethan's birthday. Yes, the Bethan I went to Europe with, who got stuck in a turnstile in Paris and made topless Irish men bench-press beer kegs when she got lost in a night club in Prague. Needless to say, the girl is a hoot. 

I was definitely unreasonably excited on the bus. I don't know whether it was the relief of not having to read about degeneration anxiety in the nineteenth century, glee at finally having time to apply eyeliner, anticipation at the thought of a night out in a city that has more than three clubs, or a combination of all of these things. Either way, I shamelessly danced to myself while I listened to Britney Spears on my Ipod. 

Bethan had stocked up on alcohol...in a big way. She wanted to make cocktails. The Sex on the Beach was great, the Woo Woos contained a whole new host of ingredients, but sadly, her attempt at Pina Coladas just resulted in a curdled goo. All the same, it took a lot for me to persuade her not to drink it. 

Bethan and her brother have birthdays pretty much back to back and, seeing as all of our friends were busy being boring with jobs and uni, we tagged along with her brother's birthday celebrations. We ended up in a place called Thekla. It was...well, they certainly weren't playing any Britney Spears. It was what we called 'emo' music way back when I was thirteen, a lot of screaming and people throwing their hair around, the girls in high tops and mini skirts, the guys with more eye makeup than me. 

I got caught smuggling in my glittery pink hipflask full of vodka when we were at the entrance. 

"You caught me!" (Look cute. Just look cute and confused.) "I'm sorry!"

And in we went, vodka and all. I honestly believe it had more to do with the fact that Bethan and I were the only girls there in high heels and dresses than any charitable feeling from the bouncer. He made an appearance later in the night and things got somewhat weird.

"Do you remember me?"

No. Oh dear. 

Bethan whispered that he was the bouncer from the door.

"Oh, yes! Of course. Thanks so much for earlier."

"You know, most people wouldn't have done that for you."

"...Yeah...thanks." 

"Most people would have just thrown you out, but I didn't. I wouldn't do that to you."

"It was nice of you."

"I'm glad you remember me."

And, as the conversation started to go off in some strange new direction, we headed to the toilets and spent the rest of the night avoiding all large men in puffa jackets. 

The night ended rather early. Bethan somehow got elbowed in the eye and pushed over and demanded I find somewhere that would play Carly Rae Jepson. But quickly that demanded turned into "Just take me home. The best birthday gift ever would be a plate of pasty and a cheesy movie." So home we went and watched that epic favourite...Clueless. But I really can't remember the time I laughed that much. 

Amazed that I was even able to stand on Friday, I headed off to the station, missed my train, and collapsed into bed when I finally got home. I would need all my strength for Saturday's events. My lovely housemate Jess from Mismatched Knitwear was having a birthday party and was bringing in reinforcements from Essex.

What a night! First there was the age old issue about outfit choice. The party was in our kitchen and I had been told on numerous occasions it was going to be a relatively casual affair. But I couldn't resist an opportunity for a little black dress, glitter eyeshadow and enormous hair. (Seriously, the new-found love I have for my teasing comb is starting to take over my life.) I was not exactly looking casual. So as a compromise I wore my slippers. 

I was totally fine until Sophie slipped me one of Jess' home-made vodka jelly shots, which were so strong they wouldn't even set properly. And from there all I can say is that I spoke to everyone I saw, insisted on having pictures with quite a lot of people I didn't know, and told Jess' sister I loved her...several times. 

The people of Essex did not let me down. When the usual time for Exeter parties to end came and people started to head home, Jess' brother took on the role of DJ and suddenly our kitchen became a dance floor. It was amazing! I am slightly concerned about my feet though. It appears that after all these years of tottering around in platforms, my feet just can't deal with dancing in flats and I had to quickly change into stilettos to find comfort. Surely that isn't normal?

I rolled into bed after 4am, forcing Jess' brother to talk to me in the kitchen for over and hour about...who even knows? And the next day I moved briefly from my bed to watch the rugby before climbing back into my cave to sleep off the rest of my hangover. 

So, my week off was fun-filled to say the least. Unfortunately I must now go back to "the dark place". Today was my first day back in the library. I dozed off with my head in a book. I need to work on that.

Freebie Anyone?

Before I forget, I have a freebie for my readers in the UK (sorry to everyone else). In my last post I mentioned that The Week had sent me a copy of their magazine to review and I really liked it. Now they'd like to send a free copy to each of you to make up your own minds about it. They aren't paying me and this isn't just a weird scam where, instead of the magazine, I turn up at your door in a big box (but who wouldn't want that?) 

I just love freebies so when they offered freebies for all of you guys I was instantly on board. Here are the details, links, and random picture they sent me.

Claim a free copy of The Week magazine

·         The best of the British and international media

·         Clear unbiased journalism presenting you with the facts you need

·         Intelligent writing delivers you a concise and complete briefing in just one hour of your time

·         Keeping on top of the news has never been so easy or enjoyable – in print or through our dynamic digital formats

·         Our Review of reviews brings you the most interesting and entertaining insights on the latest books, plays, films, opera and exhibitions

·         What are top food critics saying about British restaurants?

·         Plus the most bizarre stories from the tabloids, a smattering of gossip and Talking Points

Follow this link to claim your free copy: http://subscription.theweek.co.uk/landing/bigshot/01/

A Day in the Life: Dissertation Dejection Mode

As the dissertation deadline looms ever-closer and people insist on saying things like "this is what you've spent your whole life working towards" (no pressure), I thought I'd try out something a little different to give you an insight into what an average day is like for me right now. It will mean carrying my laptop around with me (if I bother to leave the confines of my room/ bed), but it's worth it to accurately record all of the mundane details of a student's life when they're in dissertation dejection mode.

10:41am

Not only am I awake, but I've been out of the house already. I had an appointment with the chiropractor at 9:40am, convincing that if I had an early appointment I would have all day long to spend at the library. Unfortunately, all I have done is get back into bed. 

  My back hurts (hopefully in a 'don't worry, it's just healing' kind of way), but my neck feels great. At the end of the session I asked if he wouldn't mind, "doing that thing where you make my neck go all clicky," to which he looked at me and laughed. Apparently I'm one of the only patients he's ever has who has requested to have their neck manually contorted until it cracks. I can't see why. Personally, I love the feeling and the sound. 

On the way home I found out my 3pm lecture has been cancelled, which is going to make forcing myself up onto campus even harder than it was already going to be. I wouldn't have a problem with heading up there right now, but every day last week I spent at least 20 minutes of my time wandering from floor to floor of the library, searching for a seat. Side note - University of Exeter, I appreciate you spending £50 million on the new forum, but I would appreciate it more if you'd trade in the electronic touch screen maps no one has ever used and the overpriced coffee shop (how many does one campus need?) and just put in more places where people can, you know, do work.

When deadlines start inching closer, everything else seems to go out the window. So right now my room is full of empty bowls that once contained My Little Pony pasta shapes, I only have one pair of clean knickers left in the draw, and I didn't even have it in me to apply bronzer this morning. 

All the essentials for work. Pencil case, notebook, jar of honey, magnifying mirror...

12.35pm

Another short story and five more articles done and dusted. Now it's officially nap time.

5:42pm

Time flies when you're forcing your way through a novel about a talking monkey who is driven to crime by his despair at mankind. I can't believe how late it is already. I swear I only napped for an hour so I can't understand where the day has gone.
I made it onto campus, mostly because I knew the campus shop had Milkybar mini eggs in the Easter display and they have now become my go-to dissertation snack. I do not need the extra calories, but they are my new weakness in life and they make the endless hours of research more bearable.
  I can't say that anything particularly interesting has happened this afternoon. On my way here I passed a man talking to his dog. Not the normal "sit," "stay," "for goodness sake get out of that puddle and spit out that mouse" kind of talking. He was having an in-depth, one sided conversation. The dog didn't strike me as a particularly good listener. If anything, he was a little too self-obsessed.
  And now I have to force myself out into the cold to go and sign up for a meeting with my lecturer tomorrow. Ok. Movement. I can do this...

7:30pm

Still sat at the desk in the library. Still reading about talking monkeys. Slowly losing the will to live.
I went to the shop to get something else to eat and it seemed that everywhere I turned first years were talking about their plans for this evening. It's been so long since I've been out on a week night that I can't even remember which of Exeter's four useless clubs is the place to be on a Monday. Stop talking about your amazing, pre-dissertation lives!
  I temporarily made myself feel better by thinking that in eight weeks I'll be done with university work and they'll have another two years to go. But then I realised that graduation is just the start of a whole new series of problems. I'll be living at home with no student loan, trying to find a job, waking up early and being all responsible and those annoyingly chirpy first years will still have another year and a half of carefree student life ahead (and then that six months of dissertation dejection mode, of course).

8:01pm

Library time is over and I'm ready to head home. I just hope it isn't raining. Things are bad enough walking home in the dark through that woodland path. By day it's beautiful and tranquil, a relaxing way to stroll to campus and spot the last of the robins, fluttering from branch to branch amongst the early morning dew. By night it is a terrifying death path where there must be ghosts lurking in the bushes and demons hiding at every curve in the path.
So yeah. Wish me luck!

8:36pm

It was raining. Of course it was.

I seem to be spending the majority of my time researching the southern belle for my dissertation and all I have to show for it so far is this:

9:33pm

I just finished the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and I am a very attractive shade of beetroot right now. I'm proud that after a day of work I still managed to drag myself upstairs to do squats and jumping jacks. Who have I become?
  Before that I had a quick read through The Week Magazine, which I got sent this week to review. I do honestly try to be cultured and knowledgeable, but when I have a spare 10 minutes before class in the morning and I have a choice to either scroll through my BBC news app or my Facebook app, Facebook just always wins out. And we don't have a tv so I feel well and truly cut off from the rest of the planet. Martians could invade and I'm not sure how long it would take for me to find out now that I don't watch the news while I'm eating my cereal in the morning.
  So I was excited to take a look through The Week and find out what was happening in the world. My first thought when I opened it was, "There aren't very many pictures." Yes, I'm aware that I'm a twenty two year old English Literature student who reads Dickens and Austen in my free time so I have no idea where that came from, but it was instantly followed by a sense of deep shame. Clearly I've been reading too much Cosmo.
  Anyway, I like it. I like the way it's broken down into little bite sized pieces. They give you just the right amount of information on a wide range of topics from all over the world. I've never been able to read a traditional newspaper (despite the abundance of pictures), but this was short and snappy so I didn't feel like I was trudging through it. I feel less ignorant having read it and I'm very tempted to start up a subscription. Just in case Martians invade or something. And they didn't even pay me to say that!

10:11pm

Ok brain, bring on the insomnia! I haven't been able to sleep properly for about two weeks (the joys of a heavy workload). I've tried Nytol (which taste like a gone off plant), long relaxing baths, hypnosis apps on my phone, but my brain seems to perk up considerably around the 9pm mark and, no matter how early I wake up and how many naps I deny myself, it'll still be buzzing at 2am.

11:27

Oh no, I just found out that Jillian Michaels has a cheesy American weight loss show. Now I have to watch every episode I can find.

So there you have it. This is what my typical day looks like at the moment. Mundane, messy, and full of diverse forms of procrastination, such as writing this right now. And when my dissertation finally gets handed in, I'm going to party hard! That's a total lie. I'm going to sleep for a week.