So it's half term. At last. And spring seems to be on the way (by which I mean there are some daffodils on the fireplace...) I had an ace weekend drinking far too much in Leamington Spa with the smelly big sister and her friends who are all pretty cool... I ended up watching all of the Six Nations rugby matches with many twenty-something boys who know much more than I do about the sport. The undeserved (though not unwelcome) Wales victory secured my good mood for the next few days. We also saw West Side Story at Warwick University which was really very good, though made me feel fat and very English and unskilled. But that's fairly commonplace...
I'm giving up meat tomorrow for Lent. I am determined to actually do it and will not relent. Not even when presented with a massive big steak and chips... wait, I'm salivating... I should be fine. I don't mind quorn mince and I'm always fond of good old lentil-based cuisine. I made really rather yummy Dahl the other day, following the recipe of an Indian friend. It was completely brilliant and I intend to make it a regular dish.
I'm supposed to be visiting Cardiff University tomorrow with my friend Rosie, but I have no idea whether or not she's expecting me. I don't have her number and her parents won't allow her to have Facebook (she is forced to spend the time more productively by doing work and suchlike things. I will never understand this). So I can't get in touch with her and I imagine this could cause a bit of tension when I do see her this week. Her parents already hate me. I ooze student lefty idealism and they are really rather Tory. I will have to rectify this. (The dislike, not the political stance. I am just one girl)
I went shopping in Birmingham yesterday and successfully squandered an impressive amount of money. I say squandered. I found a lovely high-waisted black skirt and a scarf in Zara, my new favourite shop. I find shopping cathartic, completely brilliant. In that respect, I am really rather girly.
My ribs hurt. Time for the doctors?
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