Written from the sick bed of Mr G.N. Thomas Esq., BA., MA.

My post this week involves arcane robes, pyramids, and strange stories told in darkened rooms amongst many other things. With this in mind I want to make clear that I haven't become a freemason (or maybe I have and am hiding it from you?) No.)) Still it does all sound a bit mysterious doesn't it? And maybe it will explain why I haven't had time to do anything for ANGER TUESDAY or the midweek music update or even the much awaited cooking with G, or at least I hope it will because I consider myself a dab hand at coming up with excuses for not writing and I don't want my illusions to be shattered. Unfortunately as I haven't written anything all week this will probably be a long one, but please dear reader push ahead, it's worth it. Honestly.

Arcane Robes

So Monday was my second graduation, and because of that I am now officially a Master of Arts in International Political Economy. I have a fancy bit of paper to prove it and everything! Although in a way this graduation can be considered a bit more important it was actually a lot less stressful, probably because I've done it all before when I got my bachelors and so I'm now a bit of an expert at the whole dressing funny and getting a piece of paper business. In fact going in I couldn't really give a damn about he fact I was getting a masters. Far more important in my opinion was that I had managed to do up a tie on my own with no help.

Honestly this is a really big achievement for me; I never had a school tie so didn't pick up the skill at a young age, my hand eye coordination is almost non-existant, and I have trouble understanding the concept of mirrors. But after about half and hour of trying I finally managed to make myself look presentable and that small miracle set me in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Your humble author shakes the hand
of an oddly dressed woman,
while dressed oddly

The actual business of getting the piece of paper, once you are through with the incredibly tedious speaches from the senior faculty, is over pretty quickly. Then comes the whole point of the day: partying. This starts of with a stereotypical photo of everyone throwing their stupid hats in the air (I could go on at length about how much I hate the stupid hats). After that I went out for drinks and dinner with my Mum and Dad to Giorgio on Portland Street (very good, not overly expensive). At this point I also should mention my awesome new coat which my parents gave me as a present: a knee length 50's vintage overcoat, it's awesome and is basically all I ever wanted in a coat.

After the gentle start the real partying started when I headed back down to the uni for some drinks with my fellow graduates. Now I won't go in to too much detail about what went on, both to spare people any embarrasment and to avoid any legal complications, but it's fair to say we partied right and then we possibly partied too right. Regardless of what happened I decided it would be a good idea to walk home in the damp and freezing cold at about half six in the morning and then wake up to see my parents at about midday for lunch. This was not a good idea.

It will not surprise you to know that upon seeing my hungover dishevelled form my parents didn't decide to stay for lunch but instead left about as fast as they possibly could to see my aunt for lunch in Birmingham instead and I don't blame them in the slightest.

Strange Stories

I obviously wrote off the whole of Tuesday as a hangover day and moped around the flat trying to do as little of anything that might involve any sort of effort. By Wednesday I was back on my feet and only as lazy as I normally am. Also I'd just like to say at this point that bar Monday I think everyday this week I tried to do Christmas shopping and never quite got round to it.

The Castle Hotel

The exciting event of Wednesday was brought about by my friend Nija who pointed out that we should probably hang out before she went home to Atlanta for the holidays and that (I'm sure) quite coincidentally she was telling a story at the Castle Hotel that evening and that would be the perfect place to hang out, after getting Mexican food of course (Poncho's at the Arndale Market, cheap and delicious).

The event at the Castle was a relatively new night called Tales of Whatever, the website sums it up but basically people tell true life stories without any notes or prompts. There were some great stories and the Castle always has a great atmosphere and great beer. Nija told a brilliant story about her parents, and then just after her there was an open mic slot. Now I've been to things at the Castle before, having gone along to Bad Language quite a lot over the last year, but I've never had the guts to go up on stage before. For some reason on Wednesday I did it anyway and gave a... mostly true account of my time in Saudi Arabia (some things may have been slightly exaggerated for comedic and dramatic affect).

Much to my surprise rather than being booed off stage and kicked out of the venue I actually got a round of applause and was asked to come back again! I'm slightly worried that this will all go to my head but it has definitely given me a bit of a spring in my step finding out that people like to hear me prattle on and has also convinced me that I really need to finish some of the stories I've started and never got round to finishing so I can read those at people at some point.

Pyramids

No, the lame kind of pyramid

On Thursday afternoon I had a job interview. Or at least I thought I did. Throughout Wednesday night I tossed and turned with a horrible fever, at one point dreaming I was a cast member in Seinfeld, at another point getting up and sleepwalking which as far as I'm aware I've never done before. This should have been an omen. I woke up on Thursday feeling possibly more awful than I'd even felt on Tuesday, even worse knowing that I had this job interview looming over me in a couple of hours.

I decided some preparation was necessary so I looked up the company. They had a weird and crap website which all looked very cheap and badly made. I was feeling a bit paranoid but decided it was probably just the fever and I should have a shower and some ibuprofen before I judged.

And then came the Google search and the words "pyramid scheme". And not just once, a whole load of people linking these guys in with a pyramid scheme. I guess I didn't want to give up on hope entirely, I've been job hunting for ages and these were the first people who had actually offered me anything so I decided to call them and let them make their case. The conversation went something like this.

"Hi I read some things about your company on the internet a-"
*click* beep

It was shit luck and combined with the cold, the crappy weather and the fact I had to go to the job centre later that day it put me in a foul mood and one that didn't exactly inspire good blog writing.

and in conclusion

As I write to you dear reader I am wrapped up warm in bed, the cold seems to be abating, and yesterday evening I had dinner with friends (Tampopo on Albert Square, slightly overpriced and I think Umami on Oxford Road tastes better) and then stuffed my face with fresh macaroons from the Chrsitmas Market (some stall at the christmas market, amazing because macaroons), and all in all I can say that it hasn't really been that bad a week. Some things weren't great and I definitely hope they don't happen again but maybe even bad experiences can make a story worth telling and to be honest they were totally counterbalanced by all the great things and great people that made up the good times.

And on that note I'd like to say thanks to the ever lovely Miss Lucy Boucher, blogger extraordinaire, who inspired me to finally get round to writing this all down. Thanks Lu. You should really read her stuff she is a lot better at this than me.