strawberrri.diaryland.com
Remember, remember
2004-11-05 | 10:36 a.m.

Hmm. The washing line in our garden has been broken, the large bucket that once harboured mosquito larvae has keeled over and the bed that had previously been propped against our garden gate moved. (Yes, we have a double bed in the garden. We also have a hole-filled mattress, a swivelly chair, two traffic cones courtesy of the previous student tenants and some other nondescript furnitury...items.) So someone either attempted to break into our house last night via the side door, or my housemates, on returning from whichever drinking establishment they'd been at, decided to have a very WEIRD garden party.

I now very much want to know which it is.

I gave my presentation on Russian peasants yesterday. It was a bit long and rambly but my lecturer seemed pleased. He said I sounded like Lenin, which I'm not sure is something to be proud of, although it is certainly better than being likened to Stalin (which has not happened so far).

Tonight we are going to the Old Horse for bonfire und fireworks and after that to the Student Union. The last time I went to a Friday night at the Union two bad things happened:

1) Rednex were there and were beyond appalling.

2) I was drinking quadruple vodkas and at one point lost all feeling in my legs, which resulted in the boy who went to my primary school who now goes to my uni sending me a text message saying 'Sarah, I am concerned about you,' which, for some reason, I found hysterical.

Thankfully neither of these things will be occurring tonight.

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