So apparently it was pancake day the other day; it completely passed me by. However, the following day is apparently the first day of lent. I decided to give up giving up alcohol, and I won’t lie to you: I am awesome at it. For some reason it’s been a very difficult month for staying in- between people’s birthdays, visiting friends and [insert any reason here] I seem to be getting fantastically poor.
Many of you will be by now familiar with my occasional jollies off to other universities in search of a good night out- so much so that sometimes I feel a little guilty that this is an Imperial blog. Never mind, eh? This weekend, some of my good friends from an (inferior?) university in the South West (and with a description like that you’ll never guess which one) came to stay. I’ll share some of the videos and pictures from the evening with you (at a later date when they are sent to me) in a post all about the joys of going out in London, but for now suffice to say that my Saturday evening included shooting Bison and defending my female associates from crazed foreign one-armed members of the homeless community, amongst other things. Perhaps I can make a convincing tree of categories like my fellow blogging machine Corrie- who you may have noticed expressed some terse criticism of her last mention in my blog. In response, I’m going to do what I always do when I annoy someone- carry on.
So what has been happening lately? Well, as I have alluded to, it’s been a busy week. On Wednesday I was preparing for my compering debut (see below), and after having met with my fellow compere to go over a few last minute points and refine my witty repartee I decided to pop into Tesco to pick up a few items for dinner. Rather unfortunately my contact lenses had been playing silly buggers all day and as such I carried my glasses in my pocket. Despite an earlier near death experience which had resulted in a complete stranger pulling me out of Warwick Road (the reason why is still unbeknownst to me but I imagine it had something to do with almost getting hit by a car) I had managed to retain my glasses all day. Apparently, however, aubergines are too much for my my glasses to handle and they made a swift exit from my pocket to the floor somewhere in Tesco. I am very, very blind without them and co-incidentally nearing my last pair of contact lenses. Disaster.
One visit, one day, and one bus journey later, my wonderful glasses and I were reunited. Win. So here’s a thanks to the lady behind the counter at Customer Services, who simultaneously managed to return my glasses whilst arguing about a memory card and Trading Standards Law.
Speaking of buses, they have been an odd experience for me recently. The level that ordinary passengers will go to in order to ensure tourists comply with travel regulations never creases to astound me. Two tourists, after inadvertently blocking the stairwell and causing a passenger carrying a canary to miss his stop, stood on the upper deck. Everyone who has ever been on bus in London knows that this is the cardinal sin of municipal transport. These two jokers, however, seemed oblivious to this fact (despite repeated announcements by that frustrated sounding recording) to the point that a random woman started lecturing them on bus safety. Elsewhere, my message alert tone (which sounds like the “dun dun derrrrr” suspenseful type noise”) is so loud that young children hear it and then keep singing it for the rest of the journey, much to the gross distress of their parents. Whoops.
So my compering debut? This was at the hands of the third annual “Imperial Idol;” think X-Factor but less professional and more jeering. Myself and my good friend Fran took the stage for one night only as the Masters of Ceremonies. Surprisingly, you may think, the person who handed us this mantle is entirely sane (I think). I’ll see if I can get hold of some photos but essentially I was running entirely late; and so after a chaotic sprint down Gloucester Road my co-host was already well on the path to drunkenness. I saved the day by joining her. I think it went OK; I may or may not have completely destroyed her jokes and made comments about her not inconsiderable bust- but we made a good amount of money for Save the Children, so all’s well that ends well as they say.
Hospital wise; well, there’s not much to say really. I wish I could tell you that it’s like I had fallen asleep and woken up in an episode of ER, but sadly it’s a little more like I was in an episode of ER and fallen asleep. So I have been spending my time making sarcastic comments at any point possible- feedback sessions, tutorials, ward rounds, anything goes. I did do my first rectal examination on a live patient the other day. Not fun generally; less fun when they are faecally loaded and in some pain. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound. I’m approaching the end of my attachment at this central hospital, before I am once again cast out in to deepest darkest North Laaandan. Pray for me.
Finally, I, Jaimie, have patented a new hangover cure for like minded students. Follow this example to the letter:
- Buy and subsequently eat a deep fill BLT (or Chicken Salad sandwich) from any good high street retailer
- Take one orange flavoured effervescent vitamin tablet, dissolve in room temperature water; drink.
- Requisite amount of analgesic medications of your choice.
- Consume one packet of winegums.
Please send your cheques c/o Imperial College Communications. Now that’s what I call cashback.