The End of an Era

My flatmates are all going home tomorrow. All apart from Twat’n’Char (Twat: the obnoxious RAF-obsessed chauvanist pretty boy who comes out which gems such as ‘you know, the tsunami was really a good thing, it solved Asia’s overpopulation problem, and some bad people like prostitutes died too!’ and ‘I don’t think we should give money to Africa because we have problems here too, y’know, like, I couldn’t get any Tony & Guy hair gel the other day, and oh my god, some girl didn’t immediately fall at my feet declaring undying love’ (ok, I made the last bit up) – I can’t be in the same room as him for more than about five minutes without wanting to staple things to his head) and Vicks (Victoria: lovely girl, slightly obsessive but perfect in that really irritating manner in which you can’t dislike them because they are so darn gorgeous in every way, but are slightly jealous of none the less).

So in order to celebrate our last night of girly togetherness, five of us went out and ate our bodyweight in curry. We ordered so much that it wouldn’t fit on the table. The waiters thought we were absolutely hilarious but obligingly wrapped up the masses of food we couldn’t finish so we could take it home. As a student, I am shameless. Had a stupid argument with Gwen (Gwenllian: Welsh, stubborn, entirely unable to admit fault, funny, wonderful girl, and my favourite flatmate) before, in which she hung up the phone on me and we haven’t spoken since. I’m not going to see her for three months which makes me very sad. The same five of us also embarked on a random road trip to the Lake District to visit Granny Byrne, one of my flatmate’s grandmother, which involved a three hour trip with many detours, especially around the Preston area, where there is a disastrous lack of road signs (although we did find one, which was disconcertingly spattered with blood) and then an hour spent in the coldest cottage this side of the North Pole searching for food, and finding only two year out of date chocolate spread. Which I was tempted to eat anyway, having not been allowed time to either eat or shower before I was hustled out of bed and into the car. We had lots of girly giggles even so.

I am going to miss them so much – they’re all living together next year, but due to my ridiculous nursing terms, I decided to live with other nurses rather than be alone for three months of the year. I’m looking forward to living with my nurses, who I adore, but I’m still going to hate being without my lovely, wonderful flatmates, moods, stubbornness and all. We’ve had a fun few months.

Being at home for a week was fun – I spent most of it with Katy. We had cocktails on the King’s Road, and I had a fantastic time pretending to be Carrie out of Sex and the City, drinking Cosmopolitans out of proper martini glasses (although I doubt Carrie then stole the glass..) and generally pretending to be fabulous. I reaquainted myself with my city – I absolutely adore London, I think it’s the most exciting, vibrant city in the world, but most of all I love the way I know it, how when I’m there I feel totally at home. I scoff at the tourists. It’s how I became to feel about Kampala – a city becomes part of you, and you of it.

I’m generally feeling a bit displaced and confused – Gwen is pissed off with me, so is my mother (I accidentally flooded the bathroom when at home, and apparently the water came through the ceiling and broke her highly expensive camera) and I’m not going to see the people I live with for three months.

The boys are coming to stay on the 18th June, I think (The boys: Paul, Nick and Paddy – my Uganda buddies. We always have a great time together, if slightly inebriated most of the time. Nick, on the phone to me the other day: "I want to go to the pub, and talking to you makes me want to even more. I associate you with alcohol") which will be great. It gives me something to look forward to, as at the moment all that is before me is thirteen weeks of being a skivvy in the hospital, while people doing normal degrees lie in the sun or travel to exotic countries. Damn them.

Anyway, this entry is rather blathery, so I will cease here.

Chin chin.