Nonsense please, we're British

Ahahaha, the various formatting icons as I write this appear to spell 'FUKD' which thankfully is not my state despite two evenings of socialising in an environment where alcohol was on offer.

On Tuesday night there was something called a 'Fire Party'. Originally this was when the most environmentally conscious set of students went into the forest together and burnt down a small portion of it over the course of an evening. Now I gather the circle includes socialists, pagans and rock society people, though I'm not sure if they follow any of the proper social conventions any more. I went along for various reasons.
We arrived just as darkness was falling. Ten more minutes might have been helpful in navigating though the forest, especially as our guide didn't bother to wait for us and the veteren hadn't been to this site before. I must admit, despite a fair few wasted hours and a not-too-shabby navigational sense, I ended up lost and confused as to exactly where the site had been. I might go looking for it one day. I thought I had that section of the woods pretty much sorted in my mind.
After wandering around for a while in the dark, we met some others (one of whom I had killed in the Assassins Guild Game) and, via a circular route, found our way there. A merry blaze was going, and I knew by sight at least some of the people there.
I should explain that this particular group of people generally elicit the response 'I don't like them, but I like them more than other people' in me. I'm not the chattiest of people in social situations, for I'd much rather observe, preferable with a wry smile and occasional amusing observation. Anyway, I found myself moderately comfortable, put in a few words for Christian Anarchism and expressed the moderate view that Tolstoy probably wasn't talking about Stirling University and our methods of Student Government.
We left fairly early, all three of us not particulaly engaged and beginning to feel the cloudless cold.
Also someone had started to play with some flaming poys. They were very good but they were wearing a minimum of clothing 'for fire safety'. Farbeit from me to intrude on the mating display of another male, I thought, so I was happy enough to go.

So that was all right, really. None of us made fools of ourselves, decorum was retained, no alcohol passed my lips and no-one broke an ankle decending. In fact, I discovered the wisdom of my latest Mobile Phone with its light feature, something I have admired in the phones of others. Shame it's so poor in everything else.

Last night was 'Rock Night' in the Student Union, or rather in the nightclub 'Glow'. A hasty exit from my flat meant I forgot to retrieve my books so I couldn't take them back to the library, and it also meant I had no reading material other than a battered map and tourist guide to Lime Park, which nevertheless conjoured up joyous memories.
It was rather warm, and the chairs were rather comfortable, so I kept dropping off to sleep. The music was loud noise, as far as I'm concerned, an opinion which I found shared with those who I asked amongst actual music-fans. Apparently it's repeatedly complained about but never altered. I'm not sure whether my conduct was appropriate. I really went to support the institution, though I don't much care about it. It is by far the lesser of two evils- Wednesday was for a long time under the grip of the sports union, and was known for drunkeness, disorderly behaviour and vandelism afterwards under the charming but accurate sobriquet of 'Wanker Wednesday'.
I do regret not going around for a walk, after my initial entrance. I found myself in a comfortable, well lit place with pleasant company and enough warmth to relax. The smoking ban might have had something to do with that. It might have been interesting to compare the two atmospheres. Apparently the Long Bar smelt of stale alcohol rather than cigarette smoke, but I didn't notice.

As I say, the company was cheering. Shame I had to shout but then I didn't talk much. I think I managed to pass it off as eccentricity (which it is) rather than rudeness (which is a subjective social judgement that seldom takes intention into account). I shall go next week, bring a book and take the opportunity to sleep if it affords itself. It really was quite relaxing. Apparently it's normally more crowded, which might mean people leave me alone, which I am not sure about. Well, who knows. It's only a few more hours of my life.

Hmm, another Blog. What shall I put in this one? Pious thoughts? Complaints? Musings on the Fabric of Existence itself?

I'm cold and in a computer lab, because my flat internet is all broken up. Today has been a good day, probably because I began it with eight hours sleep and in the right frame of mind to begin it with a prayer. First Tutorial was Caribbean Lit, but I didn't have to do anything because my classmates were giving presentations. I could enjoy them all the more because I had done mine last week (which is to say the week before last, as I've had a Reading Week/Holiday). Therefore I sat back and enjoyed. They were all quite good and I gave them high grades.
After I had an hour to wait, which I did in the 'Officially Closed' Pathfoot Resources Centre, which is directly across from the classroom. I was joined after a time by Scott who's in the same class as me.
Then at 11 we went in. I was presenting in this class, which amounts to leading a discussion for about half an hour with one other person. Annis and I had coordinated our efforts and did rather well, I thought.
That tutorial lasted 'til 1 and I had to wait then until 4 for my next class. I had lunch with Scott. We had soup and crisps because there were no sandwiches without cheese or tomato as their main component. Actually it wasn't soup, it was Hot Water With Salt and Lumps in a polystyrene cup. Luckily I was cold, thirsty and unsalted so it went down a treat.
The next class was Modernism In Britain. It was good, we were doing some essays from D.H. Lawrence as well as the Novel 'The Good Soldier'. The intended title for that one was 'The Saddest Story', but due to a clerical mishap it was published under that title. I think that 'The Saddest Story' is a bit of an overstatement. The cut-short lives and general miserableness of four rich individuals who spend their lives in European Spa Towns in the years before the Great War doesn't really compare to what was to come. This was apparently why they didn't want to publish under that title.

In that Tutorial I was pleased to make the link between the essays and the novel, and it meant a lot to me personally. It's all about life not being possible when a 'pattern' is enforced upon it. One thinks of stereotypes, prejudice and other ugly things.

Once that was over I went to tea in the Student Union with some chums, then retired to a flat on campus where I sat and read because the inhabitants were either out, busy or on the phone. Getting bored, I came here. And now I am going home. Huzzah!