The Mars Bar machine in Eliot College has vanished.

It looks so wrong. There is a big gap between the two machines that it once stood between.

And I feel so disorientated. I have been visiting that machine on a daily basis for a year, when I didn't feel like showing shop assistants my dependency on chocolate.

There are other sweet machines down there, some of which even supply Mars Bars (occasionally; their stock tends to vary). But it's not the same. Where has it gone and why?

In other news, it was Bryn's birthday yesterday. I gave him a home made card (for I do not believe in shop-bought ones), a biro (you always need them), a Twix bar (I bought him a Mars Bar too, but ended up eating it before i could give it to him), some fudge, "Strange Little Girls" by Tori Amos (for he has very typical taste in alternative music - he also likes Everclear, ack!) and a glow ball.

We went to the circussssss! We had front row seats, and right in the middle of the front row at that. Some parts were a bit poo - I wanted to be amazed not amused - but the trapeze artists and acrobats were brillig.

After that, we went to Mark and Chris's house. We waited for Mark to arrive avec alcohol for about an hour; then he returned without any. We had about ten minutes before the pubs closed, so we dashed out. In the back garden, I slipped on the mud. I wasn't hurt at all, but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!! NOT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

Last November, Bryn and I were walking to his house one night, when I pushed him for some reason. He pushed back. As he is a seasoned mosher and I am not, he pushed rather too hard, and I fell over in the mud. My leather jacket got covered in it, and it took two months and £31 to get it dry-cleaned. And now it had happened again!

Luckily, the extent of the damage was not too great this time. It should survive. Nevertheless, we went back to my house (Bryn's is our usual destination) afterwards so as to undo the harm as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, this morning, we both had nine o'clock lectures, so we had to get up early and walk up a hill. I am now tired. Consequently, I vow to avoid any short cuts that might involve mud in the future.

Friday 5 October 2001

Whoever devised my timetable was on helium. That is to say, too fascinated by the sound of their voice to pay any attention to needs of she who would have to follow that timetable. Yesterday, I had five lectures in a row, between 10 and 3. No lunch for me! Today, I have a lecture at five. Consequently, I was unable to accompany Bryn for a night at his familial home. This would have been just as well, considering I still have ten thousand tons of homework to do (and four rubbish CDs to review for the radio station), but as soon as I set foot in the house, the housemates will no doubt rob me of my entire evening, since they are suffering from Zeddic withdrawal symptoms.

Soppygit and Mr Erpen have decided to spend a week apart from each other. Considering they had only been together for five days when this decision was made, this is not a good sign.

When Matt The Head Of Music At The Radio Station sent out an e-mail regarding reviewing this year, he asked the recipients to name my three favourite bands at the moment, so he could allocate CDs accordingly. I replied, "Alice Cooper, Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson". But before I hit send, I thought, "Well, I'm being a bit awkward here, since we don't get much metal anyway and Bryn, who also reviews, likes it more than I do. So I added the words, "But once again, I'd be happy to review any bumphy indie stuff that no one else wants."

What did I get? Wo-oe! What did I get? Yep, bumphy indie stuff. Well, one of the CDs claimed to be metal / electronica, but I'm not impressed by what I've heard of it so far.

Monday 8 October 2001

It is currently 2.38am. Having just seen VNV Nation, Bryn and I are sitting side by side, on increasingly hard seats, surfing the net in the cybercafé opposite Victoria Station in London. We will be here until about 5.20am, as the first train back to Canterbury leaves at 5.30. And when we get there, we'll probably have a forty-minute walk up a hill to Bryn's house, as there probably won't be any taxis around at seven in the morning. I am tired but sleep is impossible due to the music playing here. (Yes, I can sleep in front of speakers blasting funchie industrial music at Slimelight, but not when I can hear the merest hint of cringe-worthy pop.) I have a headache and I left my aspirin at home. Despite the fact that there is saleable chocolate within the cybercafe and someone around to sell it, he sez it's not sold until 5am. When I get back to campus, I have lectures at 10, 11, 1, 3, 4 and 5, and I'll have to stay awake in at least two of them, because I need to learn more about Fourier Series' in order to do the homework which is due to be handed in on Wednesday and I need to ask for help with 65% of my Probability And Inference questions which have to be handed in on Thursday. I was going to go and see "The Virgin Suicides" (which I've been wanting to see since at least August 2000) in the evening with Ibid, but since I will doubtless be exhausted, I think not.

But: VNV NATION ARE EXCELLENT! They are my new favourite band. How many inch nails was that? And Alice Cooper? Who's she?

To pass the time, in spite of the afore-described adversity, I will now recount the events of the last few days. Indeed, upon arriving home on Friday night, I did no homework whatsoever. I ate a lot of toast (well, I've been going through bread so slowly recently that it's going mouldy - can't have that) and typed up a few pages of story that I've written on paper over the last few weeks. For once, I was not only in the house, but the only one in it! But Ibid and Soppygit came home after about an hour (Jo was away for the weekend), and we sat in the living room until we all became exhausted, popping bubble wrap that Ibid had stolen from Netto's The Grotty Supermarket. Soppygit and Mr Erpen have put a premature end to their week apart, by the way.

I was a lot more productive on Saturday. I had a shower and cleaned my incredibly muddy boots and hung out my laundry and emptied bins and moved all the boxes my stuff came in to the garden shed and did my Linear Programming and Linear Algebra homework. Then, at 1.50, I went into Canterbury and bought some graph paper. At 2.20, I got to the book shop where a Jacqueline Wilson book signing was to take place.

I'd been under the impression that it was at 2.30. Oh no, it had started at 2. I hurried to the back of the shop, scared that she'd have left . . . ha! I had to queue for two hours! Oh well, I read one of her novels, "The Dare Game" while I waited, which I was v. pleased to discover, as it's a recent sequel to one of her books which I read when I was ten. The only trouble was that it gave me a terrible craving for Smarties, which are the protagonist's favourite food. While I waited, shop workers gave all the waiting kids free Jacqueline Wilson bookmarks. But they wouldn't hand any to me. Huh!

The conversation with Jacqueline Wilson went something like this:

JW: Hello!
Zed: Hi. I know I look a bit old - I'm twenty - but I read your stuff when I was ten. *hands over "Dustbin Baby", the novel that was being signed*
JW: Great! Are these for you?
Zed: Ohhhh yes.
JW: *opens "Dustbin Baby"* Your name?
Zed: Zed. Spelt Z-E-D.
JW: *writes "To Zed. Glad you're still reading. Love Jacqueline Wilson." She has similar though slightly more legible writing than my Dad.* Now, let's have the other one.
Zed: *hands over "The Dare Game"* I was really glad to find this, as I read "Tracy Beaker" years ago.
JW: *writes ""To Zed. Love Jacqueline Wilson* What are you doing now? Zed: I'm a student at UKC.
JW: *draws speech bubble coming from a picture of Tracy Beaker and writes "Hi Zed! It's me again!" in it, causing Zed to giggle* What are you studying?
Zed: Maths.
JW: Gosh.
Zed: But I like writing too.
JW: (having probably heard this a lot, she wisely ignores it) Well, here you are.
Zed: *takes books* Thank you! Nice to meet you! Bye!
JW: Bye!

What took everyone else so long, I can't imagine.

On the way home, I coughed as clouds of smoke billowed into the street. I hoped my house hadn't caught fire in my absence. Oh, no, it was far worse. While I was waiting, Bryn had phoned me, to let me know that he was at my house. He said he'd go on the Internet until I got back. When I arrived, after I'd told him all the interesting stuff (he is very fond of the bit in "The Dare Game" where Tracy hangs her knickers from a tree), I asked if he'd been on the Internet. No, he said, my computer wasn't working.

Aaaagh! I went upstairs to investigate, and it turns out that Windows won't kick in, because some vital file's missing. Where it's gone and why, I haven't a clue, but after so much relatively good behaviour (the monitor needs hitting every few minutes to maintain a picture, but I can cope with that), as soon as I let someone else use my computer unsupervised, it breaks. Typical. I hope replacing it with an identically named file from Bryn's computer will solve the problem.

Bryn and I went to his place, where he played "Battle Isle" a lot, and I wrote and did my Computational Mathematics homework and finished "The Dare Game" and started reading Iron Maiden's biography. I've been reading it for a few weeks, but I never seem to get the chance to read more than five pages of it at a time, and because of the constant line up changes, I can never remember which line up change I've got to, and end up reading the same five pages repetitively. A bookmark would be a fine thing. I was using a postcard of Sid Vicious as one, but then I sent it to Sofie. So, due to a lack of non-useful scraps of paper in the area, I am currently using a condom as one. (Still in its packet, I hasten to add.)

Today (well yesterday) Bryn and I meandered into and around Canterbury, stopping at the campus shop and my house for sustenance and 3rd Eye 2000 for glow sticks. (We got three; he had a blue one, I had a green one and a yellow one.) We got the train to Nodnol, arrived in Camden just before five, and tried to go to the cinema, but despite the vast quantity of films on, none were showing between five and seven. So we worked out precisely where the gig was, and sat in a greasy spoony place and a pub until the doors were due to open. (That is to say, "The Doors Of The Venue Opened" not "The Doors Opened For VNV Nation" because that would be totally bizarre.)

Outside the venue, we ran into Melanie, a UKC student and Pit attendee, and her boyfriend Matt. They are currently staying in a hotel. Although they are paying £40 for the privilege, I'm just a bit envious. It was raining quite a bit; luckily, the doors didn't take to long to open. Bryn and I co-bought (which sounds disgustingly couply, but it was only because neither of us had enough money of our own) "Standing / Burning Empires", a limited edition album of VNV Nation remixes and stoof. The venue was rather funchie - no barricades between stage and audience, a bar at the back of the room, and balcony bits.

Sulpher were on first. Nick, Vice President Of The Rock Society, warned us that they were annoying because half the time they sounded like Nine Inch Nails and the other half they sounded like Ministry. However, this didn't sound like a bad combination to me, and indeed, their performance was enyojable, and a number of audience members (me included) were v. close to headbanging (a dire behavioural blunder when surrounded by goths). They're also supporting Covenant in three weeks time, so I look forward to seeing them again.

In The Nursery were next. The crowded swelled and thickened and they were really rather groovy, with 75% of them drumming at certain points. The only thing was, they went on for too long - Bryn sez their set lasted an hour and a half. Which wouldn't have been a bad thing, as they were good, except VNV Nation had to finish by 11.30, which meant their set was far too short for my liking.

Aaagh. Before the gig, I wasn't sure how good it would be: my policy is to only attend concerts with special stage shows or performers who have incredible stage presence. (Namely Alice Cooper, Rammstein and U2.) I expected neither of these from VNV Nation. Nor did their music amaze me. I thought they were quite good when I heard "Kingdom" and "Fallen Angel". I thought they were good when I listened to "Empires" all the way through, and "Fragments" became my favourite VNVN song. But, even though they didn't play it, their set made me want to get my hands on ever record they've ever made, whatever the cost, and count the hours to the release of their new album (which won't be until next year). The frontman, despite all the Deep Thoughts on their website, was down to earth and enthusiastic throughout the gig. More to the point, the music was truly infectious. There wasn't space to dance much, but I waved my glow sticks high in the air throughout the performance, hitting them together like drum sticks in order to clap. Before the encore, when a chant of "VNV" started, I made them spell \/ /\ \/.

Needless to say, I can't wait to hear the "Standing / Burning Empires".

Me = in love. Bryn who?

Thursday 11 October 2001

Me = ever-so-slightly tired. On the train home, I couldn't sleep. We got back to Bryn's at about 7.30, where I slept solidly for the next two hours; so solidly, that I didn't wake when the alarm went off and Bryn got up, got dressed and left the building.

Then I had two lectures, followed by a break (which involved a very frustrating trip to the Park Wood shop: I went there to get some orange squash, knowing full well that it doesn't sell the sort I like), followed by a lecture, followed by a break (which involved a very frustrating trip to the campus shop: the queue was twice as long as usual, and I got stuck behind a couple who kissed every other second), followed by three more lectures. Naturally, by the end of the day, I was dead and slept through "Captain Scarlet" and "Farscape". I managed to have a shower after that, but it wasn't long before the sandman sent me off to never never land again.

Tuesday was also tiring. I was to supervise ickle firsties starting at 9; I woke up at 7 o'clock, so I could learn what I was meant to be helping them out with prior to this. Then I did the supervising, had a lecture, hung out with Anna The Goth for a while, went home, did my CD reviews, forgot to do my Probability homework (which needed to be done at home), had three more lectures, hung out with Bryn, Ibid and Soppygit for an hour and a half, then went to Anime Society. By this stage, I was so tired that I fell asleep 2/3 of the way through "Princess Mononoke". Grr, as Bryn said it was v. good. Needless to say, after that, I didn't go to the party Stef had invited me to.

Yesterday, I had two lectures and a radio meeting. Then Bryn and I went into town. All I got for myself was multiple phone socket thing (which I didn't need, as I already had one), a pair of pliers and some fudge. We went home, where Bryn attempted to fix my computer, but it was taking forever. I decided my Probability homework was impossible and more or less fell asleep. Then we went to campus, and I saw "Merci Pour Le Chocolat" au Cinéma 3 avec Ibid. Il était bon et je n'ai pas dormi. But I was still asleep by ten, and stayed there until Bryn's alarm went off at 8.30.

And I'm still tired now, but I want to go to The Venue tonight as it's retro night and Limahl (him responsible for "Never Ending Story") is playing.

I would say, "I'm never going to a concert on a Sunday night again", except I've got tickets for two more this term. Ack.

Friday 12 October 2001

Soppygit has split up with Mr Erpen.

I met up with Bryn and Ibid at 6. We went to The Lighthouse (the restaurant above The Venue). Then we went to Bryn's and watched Buffy. Unfortunately, the reception was pants (probably due to someone in the room above talking on the phone). I read most of "Dustbin Baby" by Jacqueline Wilson; then Bryn went to a rock society committee meeting and I hung out with Soppygit, Sleeve and Ibid. We talked about relationships, which was très worrying: it was like something out of "Bridget Jones' Diary". Sleeve is thinking of splitting up with his girlfriend of less than three weeks, as he prefers moshing and watching "Blade Runner" to dating. The world seems to be decoupling once more. Good good. (Despite being part of a couple, I still think they're fundamentally evil.)

Ibid and The Sleeve and his girlfriend went to watch "The Godfather". Soppygit and myself went to The Venue. It was not good. They played unknown 90s rap for about an hour, followed by two hours of bad 70s disco. Because it was there, we danced to it, and it was good to dance to, but I lost all my self respect.

Only at midnight did the 80s-ness start, and that was interspersed by other decadely cheese. Isn't there something wrong with hearing Steps' version of "Tragedy" on a "retro" night, when you were dancing to it when it came out the first time, two years ago? Although we got "I Touch Myself" and "I Love Rock And Roll" and even "Walk This Way", it wasn't the same without all the staples of 80s night: "Cars" and "Ghost Town" and "Popcorn". There was no chance of getting "Love Will Tear Us Apart" or "How Soon Is Now?" I asked the DJ (who approved of my PVC dress) for "Tainted Love" and "You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)" early on in the evening, but he didn't play them. It was incredibly crowded, and I had trouble finding space to dance without ripping everyone's arms to shreds with my spiky bracelets. (Soppygit refused to let me hold her during "Tragedy" for this reason.)

I left at one, sick of it. I wanted orange squash and a cuddle, and Limahl, as far as I could tell, had cancelled, since the DJ kept calling him a rude word that starts with "wa" and ends with "er". (A wallflower? How dare a man who commands such respect from the attendees of his nights use such a disgraceful word in front of such impressionable youths?) I shan't be attending that night again in a hurry.

I went to bed and dreamed I'd lost my Depeche Mode biography. Do I even own a Depeche Mode biography? Nooooo . . .

This evening, Bryn has gone to Wildwood, to set up tents, for a re-enactment of Battle of Hastings will take place there tomorrow. Last year they actually went to Hastings; this year the budget is lower.

I can't imagine it's much fun, trying to pitch a tent in pitch darkness. In fact, from Eurorock, I know it's not. When he will be back, I do not know. What I do know is that he has to be at Keynes College with all his weapons and armour at 8am tomorrow. Who will be helping him carry it?

Will I ever get caught up with my sleep?

(I had a lie in today, but I still fell asleep during episode one of "Enterprise". Ich bin hopeless. I liked episode two though.)

Sunday 14 October 2001

On Thursday night, Soppygit asked me, "Are you going to the indie Pit thing?"

Now this was a bit of a daft question, because if it's a Pit, I'll be there! To give it all the PVC it needs! (PVC is, according to VNV Nation, a desirable ingredient: on the inlay card of "Standing / Burning Empires", it says something about "Kelloggs Frossies (with added PVC)".) But I was glad she'd mentioned it. "What indie Pit?" I asked.

"I can't believe you don't know about that!" she said, and I couldn't either. "On the 20th."

On Saturday, Soppygit asked me, "Are you going to Indieglo?"

Now, assuming Indieglo was the same as the indie Pit, she knew this already. But I hadn't heard the term Indieglo before. "What's Indieglo?" I asked, and she confirmed my suspicions.

"Bryn," I said on Saturday night, "you've got to keep me up to date with rock society news. On Thursday night Soppygit asked me if I was going to the indie Pit, which I knew nothing about, and today she mentioned the word 'Indieglo' which I'd never heard before. Presumably she's getting her information from Sleeve, who she only sees every once in a while, who's getting his information from John [publicity officer for the Rock Soc], who he in turn only sees occasionally. Whereas I see you several times a day, and you've told me nothing, and I feel really thick because of it."

"Did I not tell you?" he said. "Oh." Then he added, "And we're going to the punk gig on Monday."

"And you're only telling me this because I asked for rock society news? Two days in advance?" At least I knew about the punk gig - it was me who found out about it. But it would have been nice to know.

This is worrying. If he's forgetting to give me vital information like this, who knows what else he's not telling me? "Just so you know, I had sex with some of the animals at Wild Wood." "Oh, by the way, I've decided to move to Hawaii when I finish this academic year." "Did you hear that there's going to be nuclear missile aimed at UKC just after Indieglo, so we won't have to clear up afterwards?"

Anyway, speaking of events, Sleeve, aka Steve The Sci-Fi Freak, told me there was a rock concert on at Darwin College last night: three quid for four hours. (Why do I never know about anything myself?) I wanted to go, but Bryn said he was knackered and I didn't really want to go on my own. Instead we watched "The Top Ten Of Sci-Fi". It was rather enyojable, but bit of a role reversal, methinks.

Once again, Bryn had to be at Keynes College by 8 this morning, to go a re-enacting. Since we couldn't drag ourselves out of bed any earlier than 7.45, there was no opportunity for me to have breakfast. The thought of chocolate right now makes me feel queasy, so when I went to the campus shop with some re-enactors hunting breakfast, they were all most baffled when my sole purchase was a not-too-nutritious-looking flannel. So I'm rather starving now and going to head home.

Tuesday 16 October 2001

The majority of yesterday was annoying. I had an hour long break between my second and third lectures, when the computer took about fifteen minutes to log on. Then I had an hour long break between my third and fourth lectures, when the same thing happened. I trekked all the way across campus to get to my fourth lecture, only to discover it wasn't happening. I thought about sitting in the empty lecture theatre to do some work, but that seemed a bit creepy, so I returned to Eliot Computer room. All the carrels were taken, so I couldn't work there, and since I only had about forty five minutes, I couldn't be bothered facing the computer again. So I went to Keynes College, where I encountered Ibid and talked to her until the next lecture began, thus accomplishing nothing. Grr.

In the lecture, Dale was wearing a Cure shirt. So was I. I was so busy exclaiming in yoj over the fact that 4% of our class were wearing Cure shirts that I didn't notice he was wearing a long leather skirt until I saw him again later . . . Anyway, after that, I sat in the bar with a very bored Stef for an hour, before rushing off to Bryn's, so I could have a shower before "Farscape" started. But "Farscape" wasn't on. Double grr.

Anyway. We went to the punk gig, which was in Canterbury at Studio 41. The doors apparently opened at 8.30, but when we got there at 8.35, there were about a dozen people milling around outside, but the doors were well and truly shut. We stuck around for about ten minutes, then looked around Blockbuster Video for a while. When we emerged, the doors had opened.

Last time I went to a gig there, there was an incredibly vicious moshpit in front of the stage: about thirty people in as many square feet, going insane, with everyone else standing still. This time, there was a huge space in front of the stage, with everyone standing still. Anna The Goth got annoyed that no one was dancing, so I agreed to dance with her, in the hope that others would follow our example. "This is a short song," the band said. They were right: it lasted about twenty seconds!

Nonetheless, I quite liked their set (although Nick The Vice President hated it and Bryn claimed they destroyed his hearing) and it was fairly long, compared to those of the other bands I'd seen there (although Anna The Goth said, "Is that it?") There was less messing around before the next band came on than usual, and they were well good. Lately, I have been primarily listening to industrial music; these lot reminded me how much I liked punk and ska. A couple of blokes danced.

Before the next band came on, Matt2 showed us a set of hilarious lyrics he'd written, entitled "My Girlfriend's Got A Penis". I suggested the line "I hope it doesn't come between us" and he added that to the title. I went to the toilet, where I had a conversation with a girl from Christchurch (Canterbury's other university) about the disturbingly sticky floor and the general pantsness of the local music scene.

The third band, Assert, were fairly famous: Kerrang recommended them, they were on their third album, and they had a variety of gubbins for sale. They were the heaviest band of the evening: I liked the second one better, but they were still rather enyojable. About eight people moshed and Bryn and I went a bit mad.

All in all, a v. good night.

Sweet Valley High book 90 is called "Don't Go Home With John". A few weeks ago, I discovered the reason behind this piece of advice. Nevertheless, I got a lift back to campus with John last night. With one more person in the car than last time, at that. Well, it was a long walk back and my feet were sore and I couldn't go back to mine as I had to supervise at 9 this morning and anyway, I'd just changed my sheets because Ibid's Mum is sleeping in my bed on Wednesday night and there was no way I was changing them back again. We tried screaming in order to keep the engine going and it seemed to work. I'll have to get some hair dye to get rid of those grey hairs, though.

I proceeded to have a dream where I:

1) Had oral sex with two guys at Studio 41.

2) Went into a bookshop, got attacked by six blokes, and fought them all off within seconds (Akane from Ranma ½ Episode 2 style-ee) before going to buy a book. When I told Bryn about it, he didn't believe me.

3) Wrote song lyrics. The next evening, I was on a rock society pub crawl. Me and a girl from Christchurch College happened to set foot in an electrical store, where one of the televisions was showing a video of my song. We urged the rest of the rock society to check it out.

I can understand 2) and 3) but 1) is v. worrying.

Friday 19 October 2001

This morning, I woke up from the second slutty dream featuring Alice Cooper I've had in as many nights. Although not sluttiness WITH Alice Cooper, in either case, you understand. I went home and found I'd received an Alice Cooper postcard - weird - an issue of classic rock and Depeche Mode's "Singles 86>98", which I'd ordered from Amazon. Yay! I spoke to my Mummy. (By phone; "home" as in "my house in Canterbury" not "my parents' house".) Noj is fine but bored, in case any of you were concerned about how he was coping with Univesity Life. I tried to punkify a black t-shirt using badges, safety pins and paperclips, but it looked pants. Then I performed a feat I did not think I was capable of: I took my CD carrying case, containing forty five CDs, up to campus. (Bryn asked me to bring along some CDs for indie night: I got a bit carried away.) An hour later, when my lecture ended, I was still shaking. I asked Bryn to meet me outside the building where it was held, so I didn't have to carry the case any further. Since the lecture finished early, I had a bit of a wait, during which time my lecturer told me that the exam would be impossible, some woman asked if I was wearing "Rock boots", since her daughter likes Slipknot, Cradle Of Filth and "...not Sepulchre" "Sepultura" "That's them", and a girl in my class said she'd wear my boots if she could cope with non-flat soles.

Bryn and I went to The Lighthouse, where we met Chris and John, and we noticed a newspaper with Alice Cooper on the front of it. Doubly weird.

Saturday 20 October 2001

"Enyoj The Silence" by Depeche Mode has just been played at Indy Glow (as they're spelling it - I suspect Dyslexic Bryn). It is very appropriate.

We got the sound equipment into Keynes JCR at 6pm, an hour and a half before The Pit was due to start. A few minutes later, we discovered that some part of it wasn't working. We spent the next hour trying to fix it and find people who might know how to. An hour later, we came to the conclusion that the amp was knackered and set about trying to find an alternative.

At 8.30, an amp was brought in. At 9pm, there was music. However, it is so quiet you can talk over it without any effort whatsoever. This is a bit of a contrast to the last Pit.

Sunday 21 October 2001

The first thing Bryn said to me this morning was: "You know what? Last night could be considered a bit of a Pit-fall."

"I was thinking it was more The Pits," I said.

"It was a bit Pit-iful," he continued. "But at least we made an Indy Glow of it." Mercifully, we stopped at that point.

It wasn't actually that bad, despite it causing Nick to be struck down by Tourette's syndrome. When "Just" by Radiohead and "Kung Fu" by Ash and "Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm came on, everyone started singing along in the bits they knew and it sounded a lot better. And there was a pretty spectacular moshpit for the last song ("Killing In The Name" by Rage Against The Machine, I believe), although the sound was particularly poor on this track.

I didn't get to do nearly enough dancing - my feet were still in fine condition by the end of the night and I was able to separate my stockings from my socks with ease. But all in all, I had quite an enyojable evening. I had some good conversations, mostly with people I'd never spoken to before, and a girl who rescued my "Piss Off" badge from the floor later told me she'd also been at the Jacqueline Wilson book signing, and I reminded her of the cool goth in one of the books. Mint! as Noj would say.

Alas, Soppygit and Mr Erpen split up (for good) and she was not a happy rabbit.

Speaking of furry creatures, I dreamed I had to spend several weeks sitting in a room watching fungus grow on a painted mouse.

Modday 22 October 2001

I've had a rather frustrating day. I went to the Maths building at ten, forgetting to try and see my tutor. I had two lectures there, then tried to see him, but he wasn't in. I've been trying since 9th October . . .

I spent forty minutes in Eliot Computer room, had another lecture, then went to the Park Wood shop, which was very much out of my way, but I'd run out of Dairylea Cheese and the campus shop doesn't sell it. I got some bread too. And a Mars Bar, but that would have gone without saying, if I hadn't just said it. After that, I went to the library for half an hour, tried to see my tutor without success, then had my lecture. Afterwards, while I was shoving my chair under the desk, one of the legs caught on something. My bag of groceries. Thank Mykos that had happened, I'd completely forgotten about it.

I walked all the way across campus to get to my next lecture, had it, and was about to leave, when Kika, who had been sitting beside me at both this lecture and my previous one, pointed out my carrier bag. Thank Mykos for that.

I walked all the way back across campus for my next lecture, in which I told both Kika (on my right) and Claire (on my left) to remind me about the bag afterwards. Naturally, all three of us remembered.

I was supposed to be meeting Bryn and Ibid outside the library at 6.30. I was off to the library when I encountered The Sleeve. He was about to meet Soppygit in Rutherford Dining Hall, so I joined them, and Bryn found us there. When I sat down, I put my bag of groceries on top of the table, so as not to forget it after the meal.

Usually, when Bryn and I meet Ibid on Mondays and Thursdays, we drag her off to Bryn's place at 6.30 to watch "Farscape" and "Buffy" respectively. Today, however, Soppygit was planning to meet Ibid at this time, and was in no danger of being ready to go to Park Wood by then. So I suggested Bryn and I met Ibid and sent her to the dining hall while we went to Park Wood. And we did just this.

In Bryn's room, I put down my carrier bag. Aaagh! Committed to remembering the carrier bag, I'd left my backpack in Rutherford Dining Hall!

So, after "Farscape", we began a hunt for it. Suspecting one of my friends might have picked it up, we went to Eliot College, as Soppygit said she was planning to go there. But there'd just been a fire alarm (surprise, surprise) so there was hardly anyone about. So over to Rutherford we went. Luckily, someone working in the dining hall had found the back pack.

Note to self: stop buying so many Mars Bars, save up, and buy brain.

Oh well, it was good exercise. Also, I have developed serious muscles from lugging my box of CDs up the hill. I'm going to take it back down tomorrow: I will be Wonder Woman!

Wednesday 24 October 2001

Today started rather badly. Firstly, I misplaced my magic safety pin. My magic safety pin is responsible for holding the two zips on my backpack together, for they have a tendency to come apart, making my backpack spew its multitudinous contents all over the ground behind me without my realising. I have been using it for five weeks, and although the fastening and unfastening of it is a pain in the fingers (it doesn't go anywhere near my butt), It Has Become My New Best Friend.

Today, I unpinned it, to remove my hairbrush from my bag, then made certain to fasten it again. But when I returned to my bag, it was nowhere to be seen! It wasn't in the backpack and time did not permit to search through the clutter on Bryn's floor.

So, not only have I lost My New Best Friend, but at some point in the near future, it is likely to stab me in the foot.

I went to my lecture (at nine o'clock). The sun was shining brightly, but I narrowly avoided being hit on the head by a giant conker. Then, when I opened my bag, I found that the ribbon in my diary had become terribly frayed and there was blue fluff everywhere. The lecture only lasted twenty five minutes (I had to get up for something that length?) and when I left, it was raining like a psychopath. (I have doubts as to whether psychopaths rain, but the phrase sounded fairly groovy.)

The day improved somewhat after that. I got my Differential Equations homework finished (although probably wrong) and made a start on that for next week. I had the best Probability And Inference Lecture I've attended this term. (Not that that's saying much, as the others were evil; this one was almost enyojable, though.) I met Soppygit and Ibid, and we (hopefully) sorted out some of our joint bank account problems. The radio station only gave me one CD to review this week. (One of last week's was dead good, by the way: a sample from the new album by The Mission.)

Then Soppygit, Bryn and myself set off for the sorting office, because Soppygit and myself had received parcels too big to go through the letterbox, and Bryn knew where it was.

Only when we got there, it turned out I hadn't got a parcel at all. I had a card with what looked like my name written on it; Soppygit had received a card, then lost it. Thing is, my first name looks almost identical to Soppygit's surname when it's misspelled, so there'd only been one card, and it was hers. Grr.

Bryn and I went into Canterbury, so I could send back a CD of his brother's (which I've had for the last six months, which has driven him steadily demented) and get Hallowe'en clothing. The first mission was successful, the second totally not so.

My latest Plan Of Action was to go as Harry Potter. I had the jeans, I had the trainers, Bryn said he'd lend me his cape, I have black hair (sort of) which can be easily driven insane and probably persuaded into staying that way with the use of gel, I'm short, and I have the glasses. And I could easily get some more appropriate ones, if I was willing to be blind for the evening. All I needed was a broomstick (which are sold everywhere at the moment), a Hogwarts Logo (easy to get), a long-sleeved red-and-white striped top (shouldn't be too hard to find) and maybe a stuffed Hedwig. The only hinderance would be my rather obvious feminity, but that bothered me not. My cup size will not prevent me from cross-dressing when the opportunity presents itself!

Since the object I seemed least likely to find was the red-and-white-striped top, I decided to look for that first. After about six clothes shops, it was not to be located. The closest I could find was red-and-grey stripes, red-and-light-blue stripes, and red-and-light-blue-and-white stripes Then we went into WH Smith and examined the pictures of Harry on the merchandise. The stripe colour varied from item to item; grey and blue were both acceptable.

However, by that point, I was completely fed up. There is something about typical clothes shops that does not agree with me. Well, there's several things. Firstly, they're crowded. Gaps between racks are minimal and there's usually people standing in them. Secondly, clothes in them have annoying habits of jumping on the floor when you pass, and being a child of my mother, I feel I have to pick them up. And thirdly, they all play awful soul music that makes me want to vomit. Thank Mykos New Look didn't accept my job application. (Although I keep missing calls from this telephone number I don't recognise, which won't allow me to call it back.)

So I forgot about it. Since I'd been thinking about dressing as a goth version of Minnie The Minx for quite some time, and I finally stumbled across a decent black-and-red-striped top, I tried to find a beret (which, again, would be the only difficult part to find), but couldn't. Grr. However, I saw a nun's outfit in one shop, so that'll do. I'll hope that's still there when I go back on Saturday. (The shop, as well as the costume, since Canterbury switches itself round at night.) Otherwise, I'll dress as Ibid. (She's dressing as me.)

Bryn and I tried to get tickets for "Circus Of Horrors", this play thingy on at the local theatre, but their computer wasn't working, so we'll have to go back some other time.

Speaking of horrors, Ibid and I went to see "Sebastiane" as Cinema 3. slashissimus est. Some people left because of it, but naturally, I stayed until the end, and Ibid was rather pleased by the number of nekkid men in it too. On our way out, we were given fliers advertising Rocky Horror, which is on Friday. Bryn and I got our tickets on Monday, anticccccccipating that they'd be sold quickly. However, the fliers informed us that there'll be a prize for the best-dressed person.

Grr! I was admiring feather boas today, but decided against it. Now I will look totally boring in my basque and PVC skirt and fishnet stockings (especially if Stef and Anna and Dale go; the former, at least, was planning to) and Bryn will probably win, because he's borrowing my PVC dress. Argh! The woes of being a Generous!Goth!

(According to those tests everyone is taking, I'm 59% goth. I wish I had black bed linen, and although I've only seen "The Crow" once, I've only ever seen two films more than five times ("Tommy" and "Lock Stock") and I think I should get a point for owning the soundtrack and dating someone who looked like Eric Draven when we first got together.)