Rosie's Outrageously Splendid Internet Entertainment

Oh, go on then. This is only to stop me going to bed, mind.

I think I've done quite a lot since the last time I wrote, judging by the fact that I cannot recollect when that was, and was therefore probably quite a long time ago.

Done lots of things recently, and if you're reading this you were probably there, in which case there is no point me going into it. Anyway, most recently there was a dinner party which was really nice and at which lots of wine was drunk. Oh! The food was excellent too, obviously. And the company exceptional. Then we fell off Matthew's parents' bed and I got two love-bites which are STILL HERE. Thurs we went out in Leeds! Without exception we got drunk. As I do not remember large chunks of the evening, this could be an exaggeration- they may have been quite sober. I do know that I got very cross at Steve, which he deserved, and I have no remorse whatsover. The next morning I was very tired and got very angry on my way back from Leeds because of massive traffic jams everywhere I went. It may have been a conspiracy. Last night I slept right through for eleven hours and dreamed I was a teacher (which may have been a nightmare: cannot figure).

This evening I played taxi to my parents, who had gone to a gig. It sounds sad that they went to a gig whilst I watched TV and my brother got crushed at Leeds festival, but there we have it. They did offer to get me another ticket, but I decided going to a gig with my parents was probably worse. Plus, it gave me time to wash my hair.

Anyway, Tuesday I am off out in Mancs and know not how I will make it back home. I may not.  

Tomorrow, pub, I think? Later for me, for I am busy, but shall try to make an appearance at some point during the evening.

 

Wow! Guys! These last few days have actually been fairly interesting! Friay saw a mega BBQ day at Tom's, where Steve cooked things and we actually ate them without spending the next few days with food poisoning! Mega! Some gentlemen then went on the Wii Fit, and I refused, then most of us went to Steve's to practice our Mariokart. I've found something I'm not lousy at! Take out pizza. A good day without much actual action. Saturday I cannot remember, but I guess was average, and Sunday I saw Thorne, chatted, lazied in the sun and was forced to be in the same room as a computer streaming gay porn, which I only sort-of watched because I was fascinated by the giant penises. Today many of us got hot playing tennis, proved ourselves not very good at tennis and abandoned tennis for a picnic table at the pub. We then played bowling, were popular with the nice lady who worked there because we were polite (score!) and Matthew Wickham and I were in a league of our own. A league much below that of the others... for example, I was happy when I hit 50. Yes. The bumpers were, of course, down. Matthew Thorne then cooked those of us remaining a vegetable curry whilst Wickham and I mocked the tofu, before I came from behind to trounce them all at monopoly, thanks to my yellows and various selling-schemes which went tits up for everyone else. I was very lucky. But I also spent a long time in jail. Hurrah for Rosie!

Then we had the longest drive back in existence due to a number of factors (i.e. my brothers friends' houses needed to be passed), much of which was down ridiculous roads.

My parents are also back from Wales, with a rug, and tomorrow I am making four curries for their curry night. Which I am not able to attend.

But now, ladies and gentlemen, I need to go to bed.

I might as well post this as tom_w222, because it's going to be one of those rare Rosie-gets-angry-and-emotional posts which are so annoying.

Basically, as you probably know, I haven't managed to get a job for myself this summer, not necessarily because I haven't tried but because no-one seems to be recruiting in these turbulent times. My parents, on the other hand, are convinced that I haven't got a job because I want to disobey them and want to irrevocably damage my job prospects. As such, I have just had a blazing argument with my father, following on the tail of a clipped argument between my mother and I. I don't usually cry, but I actually burst into tears this evening. If it had been possible to jump on a train and get to St Andrews tonight to escape it all, I would have done. But that outlet was denied to me, as was the possibility of escaping to someone else's house tonight- simply because I cannot think of anyone who would welcome a teary-eyed and angry fugitive at ten in the evening. I usually have a harmonious relationship with my parents, but right now they are getting on my tits bigtime. I need a job, yes, but as no-one wants to actually hire me, I have an essential problem. My parents' insinuation is that I am shit, and in a year's time my CV will be so unimpressive that I'll end up working at a dodgy bar or downtown supermarket, which is probably right, but I'd rather my parents didn't tell me that because it's like getting an airpump to take a pair of secateurs to my already underinflated ego.

And my name is now Thomas Williams, with whom I suddenly sympathise.   
 

Hello again! I'm back! Yes, that's right! I'm back!

Having been in a place where the internet has never been heard of for the last two weeks (exaggeration- don't have a go at me about it), I had been looking forward to reading all about your exploits on here when I got home, but as none of you have actually told me (via livejournal, I mean) much about what you've been doing, I shall assume that you have been doing nothing and therefore I feel fortunate that I have spent two weeks in glorious Asian heat (better than European heat) getting my legs sunburnt (I have never managed this before- it makes me appear to have a dreadful skin disease) and snorkelling in the Mediterranean (I thought I saw some barracudas, but that was before I actually knew what barracudas were). 

What did I do? I sat under a parasol and read some gothic novels, drank a lot, slept a bit, ate a bit, got talked to by Turkish men (not tempted), swam, ogled, nearly died a few times (by drowning, crazy minibus driving disaster and then at one point I imagined my heat-induced headache to be some sort of brain haemorrhage and thought I might die), got annoyed with parents, walked down a waist-deep river running down a gorge in short white shorts and holding the hand of a small Turkish boy, and stayed in the same hotel as an ex-Premiership footballer. I enjoyed my time. But I did not much enjoy the traveling. They do not know how to make proper roads. Last night I slept for eleven hours and today I visited an aged grandmother, talked to another one, and have been to the Huddersfield Royal Infirmary. 

Half an hour ago I got invited to Australia next year (by Hugh Jackman, who wants me to be his mistress), and on Sunday I am probably off to a farm in North Yorkshire. Monday is Hepworth Feast, which usually means getting pissed in the middle of the village.

British weather is underrated. Give me 15 degrees any day instead of forty.

Hope you are all well.

And now, if you don't mind, I have two weeks of TV to catch up on.   

Rosie

Lack of exams has led to a feeling of emptiness. This was alleviated yesterday by driving to Aberdeen, watching Newcastle get relegated with some hardcore Newcastle fans (grown men crying), then driving back to St Andrews in beautiful Scottish sun.

Today we had lunch out and then I drove round town depositing piles of books at various libraries which was a nightmare for several reasons- the main one being that St Andrews is full of unfathomable one-way systems. I also have nothing to pack any of my things into, which is a problem because I am supposed to be driving home on Wednesday. I have about 40 hours to pack my clothes into non-existent bags.

Two of my friends have birthdays this week. This is causing substantial problems right now. In that, instead of buying presents, I am on the internet.

I cannot be bothered to do anything that involves moving.