#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...