I Smell Summer

So it's been on and off weather-wise for the last 2 weeks, some glorious sunshine, and typical Cornish/Welsh weather. This isn't to say that the rest of the country doesn't experience the occasional downpour, but seriously, Wales and Cornwall are taking things to a new level of gloomy. There has been, like I said, some really nice weather, so much so I've turned a remotely darker shade of my usual paper white. A line between the colours has appeared just below my hips (I would call it a tan line, but I'm hardly brown). It's more than likely just where my belt digs in occasionally but I like to pretend my few hours spent in the sun has contributed to something. I've been doing sit ups, press ups, and then struggling to get up in an attempt to tone up my incredible bod (that's obviously how I speak). It's going quite well, and it helps that there's no such thing as Takeaway Tuesday on a weekly basis whilst I'm home, so slowly but surely slimming down a bit (more metabolism help). To include something different, I'm listening to Hanson at the moment, but not the Mmm Bop rubbish, they had some new stuff, a couple of years ago I think, and it's really good... you should all listen ("you should all"... like anyone reads this anymore). Especially Penny & Me... Great song. So the summer is approaching fairly quickly and I've basically been preparing for the last few months... I taught myself guitar (I'm amazing.. actually really good), tanning (less white), and getting into shape (eating 1 less takeaway a week). So it's looking good for the scorching hot season that arrives soon.

Sitting on the floor trying to ignore how much my arms ache.

Family Business

I was fast asleep last night when my sister sent me a text complaining about why I hadn't mentioned her good looks and how cool she is in my family post... So there I said it. I've not always had this sort of relationship with my brother and sister, it was more of them and me for a while. Not in a horrible way, but they always managed to take advantage of my naivety. For example one of our little family jokes is the stuff they used to be able to make me believe. I genuinely thought my real name was Henrietta Lewis, this was discovered by a conversation I had with a friend of mine which went something like; Me: "Helen, what's your real name?" Helen: "Helen Elizabeth Nightingale" Me: "No I mean what's your Real name, like mine is Henrietta".... So that was the first one they pulled on me. Another is to do with our old family car, we had a Renault Espace, and it's a car that has those folding tables on the back of the front seats, which is just about a big enough space to hold 4 mini cheddars and a miniature spirit bottle doesn't quite fit in the drinks holder. But because the only real other vehicle that has these types of tables is a plane... I was honestly convinced for probably more than a year that our car could fly. The final trick they used to play (that I can remember, I'll be reminded of more when my sister reads this), is to do with my constant need to impress people. I've always been quite quick, as long as I can remember, and I'd even do a few laps around the garden to show just how fast I was when new people came to the house (like a dog might). However my brother and sister loved to take advantage of this, I remember quite vividly sitting out in the garden with them sunbathing... they would be, obviously I'd be doing laps just incase the postman came. They'd call me over and my sister would say something along the lines of "Henry, I bet you can't run to the kitchen, make me a glass of Orange squash, and get back here with it in 20 seconds". I'd squeel with excitement, assume a full on sprinters starting position. 3,2,1 GO! Off I ran, made the drink, came back (definitely under 20 seconds), and now when I think about it, they'd always somehow forget to time, their watch would break, or just assume it was over the time specified and tell me to do it again.. this time for my brother... or they'd want a sandwich instead. So, on the verge of bullying, but I forgive them considering I'm the most intelligent and best looking sibling now, the last laugh.. I think so!

Sitting in a reclining chair watching Teen Cribs on MTV... Sweeeet

Neighbours... A popular topic it would seem

So it's the Easter holidays and we've been given a load of work to do. 5 weeks of going out drinking, making excuses not to do work, pretending to revise, and watching an unhealthy number of films and tv shows. Before however I head home for the holiday I've been getting some work done and plan to head home Friday morning/lunchtime. Now for some strange reason the complete pain in my arse that are the Chinese neighbours on the other side to the naked stalking Chinese neighbours, haven't gone home for Easter and continue to ruin my life day by day. The wall between my room and their house is genuinely about 5 cm's thick, you can literally push the wall in and it flexes. This doesn't provide the best soundproofing from house to house so therefore any sort of noise they make echos around my room at an almost amplified volume. At times it does infact sound (as i've said before) like they're attempting to raise a baby rhino in the room adjacent to mine. I can occasionally stop the noises by creating my own bit of noise and blasting out some sort of disco classic dance tune like Vengaboys - We like to party (Katie Slader Favourite), which normally gets the message across that I'm irritated. They do however like to continue their crashing around at the early hours of the morning, which is then accompanied by the church bells outside my bedroom window which for obvious reasons go off at about 02:30 every morning. So with the Naked viewings from one side, the Church bells outside, the Rhino raising from the attached house, and occasional School Disco memories... I'm looking forward to a break at home for Easter. I'm intrigued as to what living in China would actually be like, I mean this is like Chinatown... Beijing is probably full of nosey loud people... 


In bed, watching films, home alone, wishing I had company. 

Metabolism, Sounding Cool and More from our Chinese correspondants

I've been in bed most of the day, apart from the 5 minutes my housemate said it was sunny outside which turned out to be a complete lie. This isn't meant to take any credit away from Cardiff in the last week though, incredible sunshine a few days and that's a complete miracle for Wales believe me. Now to the subject. I've decided that over Easter I'm going to get my body back to it's former glory... It's been fairly neglected over the last 3 years with university lifestyle taking priority, despite the occasional hockey I do think it's my unpredictable metabolism keeping me out of the obese population. So I'm going to get massive, surprisingly I've got quite a good will power and I'll more than likely stick to doing some sort of exercise every morning considering I've got pretty much nothing else to do with my days for 5 weeks. I make jokes about being huge already, and I know I'm not actually big, but I've managed to get caught between a decent physique and skinny, not either one of them. However everyone wants to have a good body, no matter what they say.... the only people who say they don't care about their bodies are either too embarrassed to admit they're not how they'd like to be, or are too lazy to do anything about it. So I'll see how things go and will probably be modelling soon... (another way I could get famous... *may require plastic surgery*). Now the second thing is my current music situation, It's a nice sunny day so the window is open and the blinds are up, I'd sit in the garden but it's not actually that warm and I can't see my laptop to pretend to do work. I've got some nice speakers playing some incredible music, but every now and then a song comes on that really makes me panic and wonder what the neighbours will think if they hear it. Something like Daniel Beddingfield or old school Lemar (both make regular appearances). I got so paranoid last year that I actually made a playlist called "The neighbours are out and I'm trying to sound cool".

I saw the chinese folk again this morning in a similar situation as I've described before. I brushed my teeth and undressed coming out of the bathroom in my boxers ready to shower, but was faced with the dilemma of whether I'd already showered this morning.... Instead of moving to cover (from the gunfire and grenades), I decided to stand there and ponder for about 3 minutes.... After much deliberation I realised I had actually showered already and was going slightly mad, however not as mad as I was portraying to the Chinese neighbours who were standing in their garden doing something with plants, gazing confused in through the window at my half naked body for a few minutes in which time I stood there staring at a closed shower cubicle cupboard door, until putting my clothes back on and heating up last nights pizza. I'm going to miss the Chinese neighbours...

Do you have a phobia of Hospitals? No, I'm just ill

So it's been a while since the last post. However alot has happened since then. Dissertation finished, and managed to lose that massive hockey game but life most certainly goes on. Followed it up with a huge wednesday night out, and I'll just go into a bit of detail as to what that night entailed. Began with a pre-lash at a friend's house and that got slightly out of hand, in the way that by the time everyone else arrived to start drinking we were absolutely car parked. So that started well, no idea what happened on the night out itself, some recollection of time with a few friends but nothing definitive. I do however remember going outside to find a friend unable to walk/talk/drink anymore (disappointing) and decided to help her out. The police were already on scene and called an ambulance which to be fair turned up incredibly quickly. Jumped in there with her to look after her and make sure she got home ok after the A&E trip. So got there and she had a great sleep for a few hours during which time I sobered up quite nicely and made a few friends. This unfortunately took a turn for the worse when I had a sit down, and the most pathetic cups of water you'll ever see, of which you have to have about 6 to get a mouthful. I began to actually pour with sweat, went completely ghost white and maybe fainted, don't actually remember. I'm sure I was unconscious at some point because theres a big blank spot. The great line from a nurse of "Do you have a phobia of Hospitals?" , with my reply "No.... I'm just ill". I'll carry out my own diagnosis don't worry love. They then checked me in, gave me a wristband and put me in my own hospital bed so I was no longer sharing my friend's. I was being fed liquid glucose and had a couple of blood tests, did a bit of sleeping and tried to walk around a bit which was quite unsuccessful. I saw a girl in the A&E waiting room who was there with her brother or boyfriend, I knew her.. but no longer remember who she was, so if that was you, let me know. They eventually found me a section to put me, and I was hooked up to a drip by about lunchtime on the Thursday, 2 hours on the drip, a plain cheese sandwich and a terrible cup of tea later, and they discharged me :) The only souvenirs I have is the wristband they admitted me with, and an unbelievably sore throat which comes and goes depending on how many strepsils I can fit in my mouth at once. I don't make a habit of going to hospital, but considering I wasn't ill when I got there, I have to say it's a convenient place to be if you do have something wrong with you! For all you "wasting the NHS' time" people, it was more down to the half a bowl of pasta and bottle of lucozade I had all day as opposed to the alcohol I drank, although that may not have helped. So an eventful time, the sun is out, and I'm going to try not to waste my day!

Sitting on my bed playing guitar, This is the life.... more work soon

Delusional or Incredibly Good Looking

First of all, I handed in my dissertation today. Thank f**k for that. Although I can't be that happy until I get the grade back, a 3rd would be fairly embarassing, and a serious possibility. Now onto the subject. Delusional or Just Hot. It's on the glorious domain of a night out, which tomorrow night will be an amazing thought and it's been a long time. Now, I'm potentially the only person who thinks this on a night out, but I'd guarantee I'm not. Now I generally go out with my housemates and end up making an absolute disgrace of myself, making it home somehow (without companionship) and falling asleep in every part of the house other than my bed. So on this night out I'll usually get absolutely bungalowed about an hour into the night then live off this feeling for most of the night, occasionally seeing off drinks because if I try and walk with them I end up wasting money on the drinks I've just bought that I spill down my front. As many people experience when intoxicated, I get quite confident/cocky when I drink. Now I wouldn't class myself as the best looking guy in the world however this definitely changes once I've had a few double vodka and cokes. The most innocent of glances from something with a pulse (any girl) means that they've noticed my perfectly sculpted hair (which by this point looks more like something from an 80s boyband video), I'm dressed unbelievably well, I can dance like a cross between Billy Elliot and Michael Jackson (unusual), and I'm possibly the most stunning human being they've ever seen. There wouldn't normally be a problem with this however the girls are often incredibly good looking and massively out of my league (don't try this, "there's no such thing as out of your league", because there is." I've often noticed the wandering eyes of a certain Miss Domonique Latham and decided we're in love and she wants my babies (other way around?). However generally I'll decide that every 9 out of 10 girl wants me, and I will often attempt to buy drinks for these people, then once they slap me/turn me down I convince myself it's because they've either got a boyfriend or are in some way visually impaired. I'll then wake up in the morning and wonder just why I bothered trying to tell the Cheryl Cole lookalike that I'm an Astronaut (not a cheryl cole lookalike but a true story), and have saved at least 8 children from a burning building in the past week. I'm honestly sure that one day it'll pay off and I'll take some model home, only to find out she only wants me for my unbelievable body, and not just my personality and facial features, Absolute Tragedy.

Sitting on the sofa.

Lost in Translation

This evening provided me with an excellent subject to talk about. Ordering takeaways and talking to foreign people. I decided after a busy hockey day in which I did a lot of running for mostly no reason, and getting a fair amount of work done, I deserved a takeaway. Now, we live about 9 seconds walk (maybe 8.. or 10) from a cash-point. Throughout nearly all of last year this cash point was free to withdraw money from (glorious), but without being able to specify an exact date, they started charging 99p to withdraw money. First of all what an absolute outrage, it's attached to a shop called K&C stores which seems to be open about 20 hours a day, and stocks more variety of stuff than Tesco, so we'd pop round to the cashpoint and go in to buy a tub of Ben & Jerrys Ice Cream. However it's not a great deal paying £1 to take out £10 for ice cream, so it's either take out a decent amount to make it worth while, pay by card which is £5 minimum (Ben & Jerrys £4.50 ish), or walk the extra 6 minute round trip to the other cashpoint which is still free (probably not for long, I blame the government). Back to takeaways, so I have no cash, which means I'll need to order through a website that takes card payment. Just.eat is a fairly well known takeaway service thing that lets you order from all sorts of places with easy ordering and easy payment, unfortunately what they do well in order and payment, they completely cock up in delivery and order accuracy. They've missed out so much food we've ordered I think next time the driver will just turn up and expect payment for the smell of curry inside the bag that we apparently ordered. Today however it took it to a whole new level. I ordered from a chinese takeaway called Silver Palace or something like that, never ordered from there before and never will again (Ouch). As an overview, it took 2 hours 20 minutes to get to me, and to be fair it was delicious, but I wouldn't wait that long if Jamie Oliver had cooked it (even though he is gorgeous... hmmm). I rang the restaurant/hostel/burger van 4 times in total, the first time they told me the driver was running late and it would be on it's way soon, the second was similar saying the driver had my order and was on his way, the third consisted of the "Lost in Translation" moment. The fourth was my free stuff negotiation, but in the third... In my best Chinese accent I tried to explain that 2 hours was not an acceptable amount of time to wait for food, in the Chinese woman's best Chinese accent (not as good as mine) she managed to find out the order hadn't even gone through, so it turns out the guy probably was going to deliver a bag of air. By telling the rubbish accented Chinese woman that it was for house number 85, she deduced that the meal had cost £8.50 or I had ordered at 8:05 and the meal wasn't actually 2 hours late after all (I didn't think steam could come out of ears in real life but it did). I managed to speak to a nice Welsh chap who turned out to be the delivery driver, who chucked in a free bottle of coke and prawn crackers, Result. My housemates and I have some issues with ordering quite often, I'm normally the prime candidate for ordering Chinese, because I'm quite well travelled, it means I can speak to the Chinese people better (not the case despite my unbelievable accent), so we have limited success with takeaways. I'll leave you with a memory, from France on a ski trip, where I wasn't so lost in translation. I had just come off the slopes (ski slopes, with snow on), and went into the cafe for a drink. In my best French I said to the waitress, Bonjour, Je voudrais une chocolat chaux si'l vous plait (Hello, I would like one hot chocolate please). The woman stared at me with an incredibly blank look on her face (If what I just wrote actually means, I've killed your grandmother and she makes a great hatstand, then please let me know).. but the answer I got confused me despite the language it came in. She answered my perfect French with.. "Yeah mate the hot chocolate is absolute diiiiamond, do you want cream wiv it?". No word of a lie, in better English than I speak.

Out of the chair, in bed.