My brother has inherited an organ. He has put it in the room directly below my bedroom. I cannot convey through the written medium how annoying it is to sit here while he plays an organ, loudly. And it’s incredibly disconcerting to wake in a morning to hear hymns played on an organ. You think you’re dead. But then, I don’t suppose you’d wake up at all.

I’m still not used to being home – it gives me a shock every morning to wake up and find myself at home rather than my uni room. It’s also a shock to get up and find an ample supply of cereal, milk and clean eating implements. It also seems to worry my family that I talk about cadavers whilst eating. It comes naturally now, because I’m so used to eating with other medical students, and that’s kind of the natural topic of conversation. But it’s apparently socially unacceptable to point out to someone eating a Frube (or whatever they’re called, those squishy things) that they are effectively performing the same action as you do when cleaning out a cadaver’s bowels – squeezing the stuff out. Can’t imagine why people don’t want that pointed out.

Family keep asking me about their medical problems. This causes a problem for me, because I don’t know the answers to most of their questions, and when I DO recall something that people can do to themselves without a prescription (erm, no, that isn’t a recognised therapy for anything I’ve come across thus far) the relative inevitably doesn’t believe my solution, greeting it with a worried “oh…” or similar. So what’s the point in asking in the first place?

It falls to me at this time of year, every year, to compile a quiz for New Year’s Eve with the extended family. This is another pointless activity, because most of the family don’t actually enjoy doing a quiz, but moan if there isn’t one to be done. I tried just using a Pub Quiz book the other year, but got moaned at because I didn’t write my own questions, so I suppose I’ll have to do it yet again.

My nephew was sick on me while I was trying to eat my tea today. So that cheered me up, as I’m sure you can imagine.

I’ve found a Christmas card I intended to send today. I can’t decide whether to just post it and pretend it got lost in the post, or come clean and give it to the person in question given that I’m at home . I’ve also got a selection box in front of me, and I can’t remember whether I like or hate Double Deckers . Decisions, decisions, decisions.

As we’re now slap bang in the middle of Christmas and New Year, let me wish you a very Merry Both-of-Them. And have a good 2004.

Originally posted on The LBSC

I’ve just returned from this event, and I’m gloriously drunk (I don’t know how, as I haven’t been drinking). It was very good, all the teams stripped completely (I’d expected some kind of get-out at the end, but all of them did strip absolutely completely so they were standing naked). The winners were the first year girls and second year lads. They were all very good, but how it will feel on Monday working with people who previously stripped in front of you, I’m not sure, but I think it’ll be a bit weird. The local mayor was one of the judges too, which was odd, if the mayor in Southport did anything like that, the local paper would explode.

I also pulled, which is highly amusing given that I was dancing at the time and look something along the lines of David Brent, but without the cult comedy factor. But nevertheless, I pulled someone who nobody seems to know. She wasn’t bad looking, either. Just a shame I was in the middle of a giggling fit, which seemed to ultimately put her off.

I’m off to bed now (alone), I know lots of people have photos, so I’ll have to try and get hold of them to upload.

Nighty night.

Originally posted on The LBSC

I’ve had to rearrange my top three most annoying apostrophe mistakes today after visiting Middlesbrough.

There was a stall selling no doubt delicious potatoes. And how had Mr Stall Man spelled “Potatoes”? He didn’t spell it “Potato’s”. Whilst this would be ignorant and annoying, it’s possibly understandable. He had a large sign upon which was the following sequence of characters: “POTATOE’S”.

I accept that the Stall Holder’s name may have been, by coincidence, Mr Potatoe, but I think this is somewhat unlikely. Therefore, this enters at number two in my chart. In case you’re interested, number three is the apparent confusion surrounding “you’re” and “your”, and number one is the apostrophe in “Hear’Say”.

Originally posted on The LBSC

I have just come in from Sarah’s birthday party (no, I haven’t been drinking). It was the most fantastically amusing event in a very long time.

After going to her house and having food, we proceeded to play ‘party games’. The first one was sticking stickers with names of objects on each other’s heads and trying to identify said objects, which was fairly normal when you were, say, seven, but strangely unusual when you are sat round with ten students. Obviously, the very fact we were playing this game amused me, but at this point I felt I managed to hide it quite well and respectably.

The laughter flood-gates opened when, after about five minutes, Sarah suggested a new game, the rules of which were “You are only allowed to ask questions”. That’s it. We had to sit and ask questions. The first person to utter a non-question lost. I failed to see the difficulty in this, as we sat in a circle say “Do you like tea?”, “Are snakes harmful?” and “What do you feed hamsters?” The game could have continued ad infinitum. And I was nearly wetting myself with the ridiculousness.

Four of us (Me, the two girls I’m moving in with in September, and another girl) then made our weary way home, with me (as usual) still giggling, and regularly setting everyone else off. I think their general thoughts of me being a psycho weren’t aided by me trying to start the stimulating (I think) conversation of “If you had to kill someone in the room, who would it be?”. I think this is incredibly interesting, but everybody (including JRC) has stared at me like I’m an axe murderer every time I ask it. Never mind.

So the general thought is that most of my friends think I’m mentally unbalanced (nothing new there), and several of my flat mates think I’m pissed since I’m still laughing now.

Anyway, I have some milk that’s off in the fridge that needs throwing out, so I’m off to do that now.

Good night.

Originally posted on The LBSC

I only get to live in halls for a year 🙁 Therefore, I have to find people to share a house with next year. And I have.

As from ten months from now, I should be (very) happily sharing a house with two older women – Jaz and Christina, both first year medics with whom I get on very well – (24 and 21, respectively) who say that they want to “corrupt” me, because I’m too innocent.

I’m looking forward to it.

Originally posted on The LBSC