#52 of 52

This is my last Story of Bozz blog entry. After 52 weeks of pointless ramblings, it’s time to bring this particular fad to a close. There are several reasons for doing so, but the fact that I’m getting bored of them is perhaps the main one.

When I started, I had a lot to say because I was writing things that I didn’t have the chance to tell people “in person”. This page gave me the opportunity – even though I didn’t use it much – to say what I really felt about things without the fear of all and sundry having a go at me for it. Having said that, anyone searching the internet could find my stuff and comment on it. Ah, I was young and idealistic...

Unfortunately, I feel now that there are just too many people who catch up with “The Story Of Bozz”. With my family reading it, I can’t really comment on life at home. With my friends from Dartford reading it, I’ve got very little left to talk to them about or surprise them with! With people at university having a look, I can’t talk about them behind their backs.

This meant writing about largely trivial stuff, and frankly that’s not what I want to be writing or what anyone wants to be reading. I loved telling people about my day in Paris year ago; I loved writing completely random entries when I felt like; but (even though I introduced it) the process of writing a blog every week has finally just got boring.

Summer’s here, so I’ll be taking this opportunity to meet up with people. There’s so much going on over the next few weeks: from the World Cup to Wimbledon, Big Brother to – eek – moving in with my own housemates... It feels like a convenient time to stop.

Found in one of my old school folders today:
It's like strangling a blind rat. Who's allergic to nuts.

I wrote a fairly slushy farewell to my first "year" of university last week, so I don’t really feel any need to put together a “best of” compilation this time. I think I’ll leave it remembering the good times – Paris, Sheffield, London, Dartford – and breezing swiftly over the bad times. It’s sunny outside, the football starts tomorrow, and they’ve just played ‘World In Motion’ on the radio. Have a fantastic summer... I’ll see you in the Beer Garden.


The End.

#51 Home

Greetings from Dartford... yes, I'm back in sunny Kent after finishing my first year of university. After a long journey yesterday, everything is finally unpacked from the car, the box room is looking more like my bedroom again (rather than a cupboard), and I've got over the shock of being able to get some breakfast after 09:15.

It still hasn't really sunk in that I've completed a third of my university career, and it's strange to think of most of the people I know still revising for exams and enjoying college dining. This makes writing a look back over the last few months a little more challenging, but it does mean you're spared all the emotional gubbins.

First and foremost I should make clear that I've really enjoyed my first year of student life. Since moving to Sheffield, I've met some really fantastic people who I hope I'll keep in touch with; I've learnt a lot of things, not just in lectures but from being with people from all around the UK and the world. I used to think I was up on my knowledge of life outside Kent -- I watched Byker Grove, for goodness sake -- but I never clocked that life is at once totally different and remarkably similar.

I've done things that I would (and could) never have done if I hadn't gone to Sheffield: from football games and music concerts to picnics in the Dales and paternosters, I've got no regrets. Plus, the madcap memories: drunken running races, people throwing kettles full of water at other people, getting far too excited at the sight of ducks and squirrels, offending seminarers, teaching nursery rhymes to Cypriots... hopefully next year will be more of the same.

Favourite Sheffield sighting:
Walking past the newsagents in half term, and there's a group of kids outside. One jumps down off the wall he was sitting on, walks towards the shop, then -- remembering something important -- suddenly stops and spins around again. "What were they called again?" he asks his mates: "Old Holborn" comes the exasperated reply.

This time last year, I was still going through my A-levels and had absolutely no idea what I could expect in the next twelve months. This year I've just completed my first year exams, with a slightly nervous wait to find out if I'll be allowed back in next year but with an even greater sense of wonder at what next year -- more independent than ever, living in a house -- will be like.

To everyone who helped make uni life so enjoyable, thanks very much: I hope all your exams have gone OK, and I hope you have a fantastic summer. I'll see most of you next year, back in the city of seven hills... bring on the barbecues, house parties and informal gatherings!

#50 Meh

Well that's it, I'm done. My last exam, English Literature, ended at noon (although to be honest I was back in my room and enjoying a beer at 11:15) so that's the end of my first year at uni. To top it all, it's a sunny day and England have literally just bowled out Sri Lanka in the cricket for very little.

This week I've had two exams - neither went brilliantly, but neither was a disaster either; I've been to a rather scary dental appointment (it's not very reassuring when the person setting up your X-ray has a badge saying "Sheffield Hallam University"); I saw "Goodnight And Good Luck" at the union cinema; and we celebrated Ollie Shaw's birthday on Saturday...

Photographic evidence: Click here


Since coming to Sheffield, I've...
▪ Become a pirate
▪ Changed my name
▪ Been introduced to Rubicon, Real McCoys and pies
▪ Ridden a paternoster
▪ Heard my first real Owl
▪ Been to watch the Blades play
▪ Taught nursery rhymes to a Cypriot
▪ Met a bunch of weirdos
▪ Met a (bigger) bunch of fantastic people

Things I won't miss
▪ Being able to hear next-door's hot tap
▪ "Missing" breakfast
▪ A severe lackage of Friday lie-ins
▪ TV "rooms"
▪ Ranmoor food
▪ Ranmoor buildings
▪ Ranmoor doors
▪ Ranmoor halls

Random fact:
The £1 coin has a scrap value of roughly 5p, the £2 coin around 8p. The 50p at 4p is worth less than the 20p, at 5p.

#49 Final countdown

In one week from now, my first year at university will be over. Completely finished. Done and dusted. My final exam starts at 9am on Thursday 25th, and it's all over by noon. The plus side of this is that I have from a week today until September 25th before I have to start worrying about coursework, lectures and seminars. The down side of this is that this week has been utterly mental.

I've been sorting out next year's module choices, writing essay after essay, organising appointments and meetings and preparing for exams on top of all the normal chores that get in the way of uni work (washing, shopping, dining, Doctor Whoing, Facebooking, etc.). Tomorrow, I have to write 2,500 words on Early American Literature. Wish me luck.

Blasts from the past:
▪ Badger Girl
▪ Earth Warp
▪ Through The Dragon's Eye

Five months too late, my New Year's Resolution has kicked in. I've started going running every evening in an attempt to raise my fitness level above Michelle McManus's. Luckily, the road nearby is both (a) just the right length to go for a meaningful-but-not-heart-attack-inducing run, and (b) one of the few fairly flat roads in the city. It's not the most challenging route in the world, but I've simply got to start somewhere.

Annoying advert of the week:
"We've traced the call... it's coming from inside the house!!"
How can a call come from inside the house???

I shelled out £3.90 for a CD this week (which came with a free copy of Q magazine... or was that the other way around?) full of cover versions. The Sugababes cover 'I Bet You look Good On The Dancefloor' appallingly, some Jazz singer covers 'Wonderwall' brilliantly, and Nick Cave of all people covers 'Disco 2000' freakily. I'm not sure why I chose to include that in this week's blog... possibly because I haven't actually managed to do much else this week. Sigh.

Number of magpies seen today:
Four in one go... enough for a boy (or a birth)

#48 The week in pictures

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday

#47 NOC

Well, another week has passed, blah blah, etc. etc. As I’ve been told to get some blog down for last week... let’s get on with it, shall we?

Friday, and off to the Union cinema to see Jarhead. It’s about a soldier who goes off to fight in the first Gulf War (the half-finished one) and then finds it hard to return to civilian life afterwards. Not a bad film, enjoyable as it was, but I can’t really say that I came back from it with anything more than I went in with. Apart from my ticket stub, of course.

The Bank Holiday weekend was unfortunately spent doing work. Yes, an English essay due in for the Tuesday meant that Sunday and the best part of Monday were spent staring at a computer screen/book/cloud while I tried to get 2,000 words out of some Renaissance poem.

Wednesday and it starts to get interesting: down to City Hall to see the legendary Morrissey perform. After a fairly warm day, I decided to treat myself to an ice cream before the gig began, safe in the knowledge that I could eat it way up in the Circle and not feel embarrassed. Then the fire alarm went off, and we all got marched outside -- me stumbling along with a (melting) After Eight magnum -- and told to wait outside for about ten minutes.

Morrissey (during the gig):
"There was a fire alarm earlier tonight and we all got escorted out of the building... the call was traced to Q magazine"

Indeed, the whole night was full of witty quips such as this one. Opening band Sons & Daughters had to put up with their fair share of hecklers (annoyed at having to wait slightly longer to see Morrissey). Here's just a selection...

Lead singer [in an attempt to stir up the crowd]: "Are you alright?!"
Audience [rather pathetically]: "Mmmm"
Lead singer [fed up, sarcastic]: "Oh, so-so then."

Morrissey fan [during Sons & Daughters set]: "We want Morrissey!!"
Lead singer [annoyed]: "We want Morrissey too, but we can't have him."

Lead singer: "This is our last song"
Morrissey fan [the same one]: "Hooray!"
Lead singer: "Yeah, this one's for you"

As for the man himself? Well, apart from some questionable shirt-wearing for a man of his age, Morrissey was fantastic. I'm not a massive fan of his new album, but live the songs sounded great. New track 'Gang Lord' had a catchy opening and reassured me that he has still got some decent music in him. Classics 'How Soon Is Now?' and 'Girlfriend In A Coma' were excellent, and the best songs from "You Are The Quarry" allowed everyone to sing along to some of his new stuff too. Well worth the "£3.50 ticket price" (Morrissey's words, not mine).


After voting in the General Election, and the Union Elections, not one of my chosen candidates got in. Curse you, Howard Stoate. Regardless, the opportunity to vote in the Sheffield Council Elections presented itself on Thursday, and it was down to the lovely village of Ranmoor for a quick vote and a celebratory afternoon pint. Despite not having electricity where he lives, country bumpkin Ed and myself managed to cast our votes with no problem at all... Unfortunately, cheeky Liverpudlian scamp Tom Carlin almost committed electoral fraud on two occasions within two minutes, not realising the significance of a secret ballot.

Sadly, Labour got in again.

If only...
You could "save up" magpies.
(I'd have a baby boy by now, or possibly some silver)

The Apprentice update: I now want Michelle to win. It wasn't the sob story that they insister on repeating to us that won me over, just the recognition that Badger is such an obnoxious cow.

Bernard's Watch update: Bernard's... was only filmed during the Summer holidays, and all the money the lead earned from the role is still in a savings account should he ever need it. It is also not true that the actor in question punched someone who called him "Bernard" in real life. Fact.

#46 Easy living

This last week has been fairly mental. I don't feel like I've been away from the place because the routine has fallen into place so quickly again. The only noticeable difference is my official itBox partner, but both are as obsessed with the thing as the other, so there's no great shift.

Facebook quote of the week:
Work like you don't need the money,
love like you've never been hurt,
and dance like nobody's watching.

Having been disappointed with Morrissey's new album (bought last week), I was rather hoping that The Streets' latest offering might help to balance things out. And, boy, does it.

There are few albums that once I've heard for the first time, can't stop listening to - on constant repeat - for the next few days. "The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living" is one of them. It's taught me latin (Momento Mori ), it details how to make £300 using only a dog and a pub landlord, and it's cleared up the mystery of what Mike's manager is saying on the phone (when not garbled and censored). It's brilliant, I suggest you go and buy a copy.

New catchphrase of the week:
I know!

This weekend's looking fairly busy. There's an essay to be written, a film to go see, a picnic to be attended, the University Beer Festival to browse, World Championship snooker to be watched... yes, it's tough at the top. I also have to get my hair cut next week before trapesing around the city in search of jobs. My lack of qualifications in the Dough & Savouries field has ruled me out of any job at Coopland's Bakery, but I'll have to be quick before all the local kids go and nab all the summer jobs. Then on Wednesday evening I'm off to see Morrissey (yes, I know what I said earlier) and Thursday is an opportunity to vote in the local elections! Woot!

Replacement chant for "Your dad works for my dad":
- Give me an E!
- E!
- Give me an E!
- E!
- Give me an E!
- E!
- What do you get?
- Into Hallam!

#45 Eggs

Blimey, where have the Easter holidays gone? Going back to Sheffield tomorrow feels far too soon (although in fact this is probably just down to reluctance to work), but then it also feels like ages since I was last north of Watford Gap. Bizarre.

Either way, I've really enjoyed being back for a few weeks. I felt at Christmas time that I didn't really make the most of my time at home re: seeing all my friends and actually getting stuff at home sorted out. Granted, I still have to re-wire the phone line and sort out the loft... but they can wait a few weeks longer. Plus my holiday hasn't been over-shadowed by essays and work this time, either. Add a generous helping of Easter eggs and chocolate to the mix, and it's been good fun.

Out last week for Rasell's birthday, I discovered possibly the smallest pub in town (in the form of The Two Brewers, where the beams helpfully warn "Watch out! 5 ft. 8 in.!"), the joys of some obscure bottled beer in The Litten Tree, and met Jack/Luke and Palmhead from my junior school. A fairly random night, topped only by the request of my next-door neighbour (the one who plays Hard-Fi's "Stars of CCTV" at full blast between 09:00 and 12:00 every day) to keep the noise down. Ahem.

Childish as my behaviour has been this week, it hit me last night just how grown up we're all getting now. I think I'll be lucky to see some people this summer, what with their plans to go globe-trotting and working and studying... luckily it's just made me more determined to make an effort to get out and visit people.

Cure for slight melancholy:
An entire tube of Polo Spearmints and an evening watching the snooker.

Tomorrow I'm back in Sheffield, then, currently the snooker capital of the world. It's been great watching the World Championships on telly this week, for some reason snooker is one of those things that I can watch for hours on end without fearing for the adverse affect it may be having on my brain. The trouble is, watching the players make such light work of the game may have filled me with a false sense of confidence in my own game. I'll have to remind myself not to take on the difficult/trick shots.

Strangest dream of the week:
"Waking up" to the sounds of BBC Radio 4, and then finding myself to be at the centre of the row over replacing the traditional UK Theme and Church bells the station plays. Beyond that, not much- it all goes hazy again. Analyse that. No please, what the hell does that mean?

Finally, Happy Birthday to HRH The Queen. Long may you continue to keep Charles from being King.

#44 Death

I've been enjoying having the house to myself for a few days this week. It was great to be able to lie in bed with a good album on the record player and not have to worry about waking everyone up, or getting up in the morning with sore ears from falling asleep with my headphones in. It has meant a slight decline in the standard of dinner, but we all have to make some sacrifices.

Playing this week:
Morrissey - "Ringleader Of The Tormentors"
(not his finest work, in my humble opinion, but good singles)

Determined not to return to Sheffield feeling disappointed that I hadn't seen enough of my friends in the break, it's been great to be able to meet up with everyone. From going down the pub with the usual suspects, to going to an "indie posers' club" in London and just having a gathering with Elyse and Adèle... I'm glad we've all met up, but I'm slightly dismayed that we really won't see much of each other in the Summer. To help co-ordinate meetings with those of you travelling abroad this year...

Dates that I will be present in England:
2006: January 1 - December 31

The gathering has also strengthened my desire to be known as Bozz again. Hence, from this point on, "Steve/Stephen" is a purely formal introduction.

Another scary thought: there really isn't that long now until the end of the first academic year. I've got just four weeks of lectures when I return, and then it's straight into my exams. Literally: they're all finished within another week. This means I have even more time to work/continue my search for employment.

Proof you need a job:
You can't afford The Streets' new album

Found at last: my favourite advert:

If only all adverts were this amusing, and not as insanely annoying as the "quote me happy" Norwich Union ones. "Yeah, it's green, and its got 4 wheels... wow!!".

#43 Bank

This week’s blog is also for the benefit of my bank manager, who was slightly concerned that my account would soon run out of cash.

That is, of course, an exaggeration, but this week has been another example of haemorrhaging cash at an alarming - albeit typically ‘student’ - rate. Thursday last was a day spent travelling home and, despite the fact it cost me 40p more to get from London to Dartford than from Sheffield to London, meant there wasn’t too much dinero lost. The weekend soon reversed this trend.

Friday night was my first trip on the mighty Fastrack (pronounced fast-rack) bus route. Handily, there’s a stop right outside my house, so the trip into Dartford is now able to be completed far more lazily than ever before. The route also takes you right past Dartford’s new stadium - it’s great to be able to see Princes Park taking shape.

From the “Royal Victoria Mill” stop (aka the bottom of East Hill - not quite as glamorous a name), it was to the Paper Moon where the whole crew met up again and enjoyed a few beers at a rather leisurely pace! Old habits die hard, clearly... Once we’d all got ourselves organised we could head up to Lahndahn and the Walkabout in Temple for Mandeep’s birthday celebrations.

It was a good night, topped with a journey to Mandeep’s Chelsea flat (via Trafalgar Square and the nearby Tesco Express), then a ridiculously early-morning trek to the train station to get back to Dartford. My attempts to board the night bus with a railcard were met with much mirth from the losers I had to accompany home, but then one of them did manage to fall off a bus shelter bench, and get stuck down the back. Once again, Fastrack proved its worth, with a surprisingly busy 06:40 getting us home.

Not much opportunity for sleep presented itself on Saturday before going out again to the legendary S&G Cricket Club Race Night presented by Racenite on a night of races™. A promising start to the evening saw us come within just one question of the Trivial Pursuit jackpot... Sadly, that question was “What is the international dialling code for Norway?”. Still in a fairly confident mood though, we took our seats for the evening’s racing. Although most of my bets could more accurately be called donations, we did manage to raise some money for the kitty which would be used for later in the week.

That use was for the taxi home from Amadeus, possibly the greatest nightclub in Rochester. It was my first time there, too, so the excitement was all the more intense... Whether it was the Turbo Stellas, or Deal Or No Deal, or just the darn good music, it was a top class night out.

Having played football on Tuesday too, I’ve pretty much caught up with everyone from back home now. Pretty much, because my plans to go and see Elyse and Adèle last night were scuppered by Ms. Sumner feeling poorly and my car deciding to stop working in the middle of Swaledale Road. Obviously, that’s not the best start to a journey through a busy road tunnel...