After arriving back in the Guildford area, I thought I’d get my car cleaned.  Which was great, except I’d forgotten to buy a ticket for the car park.  Luckily, the lovely car wash man bought a ticket for me, leaving it on my windscreen when I returned.  Isn’t that lovely?  In Godalming, however, I’d been out of the car less than two minutes before I had to charm my way out of a parking ticket from a nearby official.

And then began the inevitable cycle of travel vaccinations, downloaded TV shows & movies and late-night cereal.

I’d have plenty of time to prepare for my trip, right? Wrong.  I like to busy myself.

I went to see Hamlet, featuring Jude Law.  Law was funnier than I’d been led to believe, but it seemed like he was channelling a Mr. Tennant a bit much. My favourite part, though? Ophelia. Her under-acting was phenomenal as her subtle insanity shone through as clearly plaguing her. The speech-song-speech patter matched her lovely voice and she never seemed the gimmicky nutter…

The only thing I found myself wondering by the end, aside from how well Tennant’s performance was (and his supporting cast), by comparison, was a criticism of Shakespeare. Just how old is Hamlet supposed to be? Off the top of my head I’d guess 23, but his oft-talked about “adolescence” would peak far before that!

Thanks to my mother owning a Peugeot, we managed to get VIP corporate hospitality tickets to the London Taste Festival for free, which was a pleasant (and pallet-pleasing) day in Regent’s Park.

Among the hostel bookings, bus tickets and rail-timetable perusing, I also had the small matter of a pesky Russian visa to get hold off.  A trip to London, a wad of money lighter, 36 hours later and I was granted a visa.  We’ll gloss over the fact I mistook a ‘free massage parlour’ for an internet café that day, though.

Just in case I’d been missing university a bit too much, I ended up attending the RHUL Black Tie Summer Feast, sitting on the Principal’s table and having a jolly good (free!) evening meal.

And finally, I’d managed to wangle myself a job in telephone fundraising for the RGS.  Run in MacGregorJones’ offices in Southwark, I was officially a ‘friendraiser’ for the RGS Foundation this past week.

Drumming up support (i.e. money) for the 500th Anniversary of the school, I was subjected to a man who lied about his age, minor verbal abuse from a Venerable Archdeacon, an NYC OG whoo thought he was the police and even spoke to a nice lady en France qu’elle n’avait jamais entendu parler de la RGS.  All for £8 an hour, I raised about £1000 for The Foundation.  I was quite pleased with myself, althoough my career as a telephone fundraiser is definitely on hold (pun intended?).

Oh, and I got a 2:1 for this year, which I’m moderately pleased with.  Who knows what I can get if I attend more than sixteen lectures?

Anyway, I’d better go and think about the most important question plaguing my three-and-a-half weeks of travelling around Eastern Europe: cards or TravelScrabble?

Well, I’m sitting in an empty flat.  In my dressing gown. All seven other residents have gone home for the weekend, and I’m trying to work out whether I should be going home or finding something more exciting to do.  It’s tempting to go for a bit of a Risky Business-esque montage right now.

This is university, after all.  I didn’t expect it to be a place where people watch lots of TV and go home once a week.  Then again, cooking a ready meal and watching EastEnders on BBC iPlayer appears to be the highlight of my Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.

Oh, for all my complaining, I did go home last week, as I was quite ill with a horrible fever/flu combination akin to meningitis minus the rashes.  Cue delirium, co-codamol and lots of TLC for a week. I’m much better now, my faithful readership should be pleased to know.

Someone please tell me what I should be writing?

Except, of course: my essays [earlier than 12 hours before the deadlines]; The Founder articles; the plan for the InsanityRadio News Show [nice: discretely embedded hyperlink plugging.].

Hooray for Obama; Goodness me, what were Brand and Ross thinking?; Credit crunch/Recession.  I’ve suitably sated my Google rankings for another month.

The easiest way by far to keep up with my life is apparently following me on Twitter – my updates are numerous, self-involved and ego-centric.  Narcissistically, precisely like this blog.

As the Freshers’ hysteria period has worn off, it’s now only permitted for a small minority of well-connected people who are publicising something or have a form of mild amnesia to wander up to other students and ask who they are while giving a brief synopsis of their own life.  As for seminars: it appears you keep your mouth shut if you’ve got a good idea, ’cause otherwise it’ll be poached by that one in the corner who doesn’t speak.  Do I abide by this rule?  Of course not.  Conversely: if you love the sound of your own voice or want to piss people off to make the hour go faster, you blag your heart out aloud.  You wouldn’t want it to get dull, would you?  If I’ve learnt anything so far, it’s that any BBC adaptations are suitable alternatives to reading any texts.  Except they’re a bit difficult to cite in essays.

Two more (assessed – panic!) essays left and that’s the Autumn Term done.  Does anyone else miss “Michaelmas”, “Trinity” and “Lent”?  Nope, just me. Just me, in this flat.  And EastEnders isn’t on.  Back to the Facebook Live Feed, with this blaring at full volume.  Productivity, eh?