In short, good. She is Irish and just lovely.

BUT...

The trip didn't go completely without a hitch. For instance, within ten minutes of arriving I'd managed to insult the cat. It'd been out in the rain and looked...scraggy, so I said something along the lines of, 'Ooh I bet he looks lovely when he's dry and his fur's all sleek.' Wrong thing to say. It turned out the cat's fur ALWAYS looks scraggy due to him being a 'Devon Rex' (looks like a Siamese but with short, crinkly, hypoallergenic fur).

And what else? Well, I nearly managed to upturn the salad bowl whilst eating dinner and on Sunday upon waking up (which was three pm due to me, the New Bloke and his mum staying up, drinking wine and having the rambling sort of chatter that accompanies wine drinking until four in the morning) I threw up about half a litre of the most illuminous yellow bile I've ever seen. 'It reminds me a bit of liquidised butter,' said my boy, which almost caused me to repeat the act. He thought it was nice that I felt comfortable enough to throw up in his presence, but I maintain that it was not nice in ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. Did feel better after though.

It was ok though - his mum felt bad for giving me so much wine and we'd already bonded laughing at a dog driving* a taxi:

*Taxi may not have been moving, but the dog WAS sitting in the driver's seat, with its paws possibly on the wheel. Chucklesome indeed.

I came back home yesterday morning and today I was greeted by the postman delivering the breakdown of my third year results, which were actually worse than my second year. Not that it matters.

In my six modules I got (%) 69, 68, 64, 60, 60, 55.

The two 60s were for my dissertation. I was delighted.

The 55 was for Part 1 of my George Orwell course, which I was quite disappointed with as not only was it my favourite module, but I also got mid-60s in my coursework which means I must have fucked up the exam something chronic.

But at the bottom it has boldly stated that my degree classification is a 2.1, so I imagine that can't be taken away from me now. Amen to that.

Now, some Glastonbury mud photos? Why not?!

I think this has been long enough...

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