(no subject)
Urgh. Really must stop volunteering my house for parties. My limited cleaning skills definitely cannot cope.
Mother and Harry have gone off to visit my poor invalid brother at university, who is going slowly mad at being confined by his broken leg. Therefore Hannah and I decided to throw a civilised dinner party. And for some reaon kept inviting people until we realsied that we were cooking for thirteen. Cue: manic trips to the supermarket, an afternoon of cooking, a lot of mess, and Hannah and I dancing around the kitchen to 'Scissor Sisters', rather desperately swigging out of a wine bottle.
However, much to our surprise, it did not turn out a complete disaster, and instead we turned out a magnificent feast of vegetables and dips (including the World Famous New Zealand Onion Dip, courtesy of Alex), pasta bolognaise bake, and banoffee pie and apple crumble. And, if I do say so myself, it was really quite magnificent.
Everybody followed orders and dressed up, brought me flowers and copious amounts of wine (my mother will be shocked to see the number of empty bottles in the recycling box), and inevitably we ended up rather sloshed and boogying to 'Steps'. I managed a grand total of two hours sleep, went to work, and now am up to my elbows in dirty dishes, because everybody buggered off home when I was out. It does not help that I discovered a new and wonderful love for cigars, and for some reason used the pots with the left-over dip in for ashtrays. making a kind of dip/ash/ciger type goo.
Luckily, I am cheered by the fact that there is still banoffee pie left over, and I am going to eat it all and not tell Hannah.
In other news, Mother and I made an excursion to Exeter on Wednesday, to look at the university, which is very green and full of rich people. Both of which are fine by me. Everyone was very jolly and welcoming, and the campus was lovely, although unless you can afford £140 a week for rent (which I cannot), you do have to live in a room the size of a mousehole.
My university decision is pretty much narrowed down to Exeter and York, so Sam and I are making an excursion to York next week. Seeing as it is a very long way away, and I am dragging him there for no other reason than I don't want to go on my own, we are staying overnight at my aunt and uncle's house in Doncaster, and then doing what he wants to do the next day. Which is ... going to the National Train Museum.
And this time next week I shall be on a plane over the Atlantic, on my way to The Big Apple. *makes the happy noise*
Mother and Harry have gone off to visit my poor invalid brother at university, who is going slowly mad at being confined by his broken leg. Therefore Hannah and I decided to throw a civilised dinner party. And for some reaon kept inviting people until we realsied that we were cooking for thirteen. Cue: manic trips to the supermarket, an afternoon of cooking, a lot of mess, and Hannah and I dancing around the kitchen to 'Scissor Sisters', rather desperately swigging out of a wine bottle.
However, much to our surprise, it did not turn out a complete disaster, and instead we turned out a magnificent feast of vegetables and dips (including the World Famous New Zealand Onion Dip, courtesy of Alex), pasta bolognaise bake, and banoffee pie and apple crumble. And, if I do say so myself, it was really quite magnificent.
Everybody followed orders and dressed up, brought me flowers and copious amounts of wine (my mother will be shocked to see the number of empty bottles in the recycling box), and inevitably we ended up rather sloshed and boogying to 'Steps'. I managed a grand total of two hours sleep, went to work, and now am up to my elbows in dirty dishes, because everybody buggered off home when I was out. It does not help that I discovered a new and wonderful love for cigars, and for some reason used the pots with the left-over dip in for ashtrays. making a kind of dip/ash/ciger type goo.
Luckily, I am cheered by the fact that there is still banoffee pie left over, and I am going to eat it all and not tell Hannah.
In other news, Mother and I made an excursion to Exeter on Wednesday, to look at the university, which is very green and full of rich people. Both of which are fine by me. Everyone was very jolly and welcoming, and the campus was lovely, although unless you can afford £140 a week for rent (which I cannot), you do have to live in a room the size of a mousehole.
My university decision is pretty much narrowed down to Exeter and York, so Sam and I are making an excursion to York next week. Seeing as it is a very long way away, and I am dragging him there for no other reason than I don't want to go on my own, we are staying overnight at my aunt and uncle's house in Doncaster, and then doing what he wants to do the next day. Which is ... going to the National Train Museum.
And this time next week I shall be on a plane over the Atlantic, on my way to The Big Apple. *makes the happy noise*