Hair New Era

So the first half of the term is over, and now us Arts students have Reading Week which is really just an opportunity to go home or muck about on campus. I’m not sure there’s much reading going on. Not that I’m complaining!
The Middle English translation classes have ended now that we’ve finished Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Everyone else seems really relieved, but I actually didn’t mind them. Sure, the homework was time-consuming, but it was so rewarding if you heard that the seminar tutor had translated a line exactly like you had. Maybe it’s because I’m foreign and used to other languages, but I never found translating all that daunting.
Today I went to the Stop Education Cuts protest in London, because the plans of the government are actually mental. Raising fees to £6,000-9,000 a year?! I for one couldn’t afford it.
On the bus the people from Students Union explained our rights and what to do when arrested and questioned. Serious stuff. But it got fun when we were stuck in traffic in London and passed coaches from other universities. We were quite certain that CU meant Cambridge, but when we held a sheet saying ‘Which uni are you from?’ on the window, it turned out they were from Coventry instead. To which we briefly discussed writing ‘Unlucky’ – because we’re mean. But then someone reminded us that they are on our side – it’s not like that was the government’s bus! We engaged in some more ‘bus MSN’ with them and other coaches, which was loads of fun.
And then we went and chanted ‘9K – no way!’, ‘No if’s, no but’s, no education cuts!’ and ‘Nick Clegg, shame on you! Shame on you for turning blue!’ etc.

After the march I had a walk around town and then we had a few organised activities at LSE and King’s College. Sorry, no exciting vandalism from me.

And now some general things about living here that have provoked strong emotions in yours truly.

Love
How this conversation has to be had at least once every night (because we’re so mature):
- [Someone, usually a celebrity or a mutual friend] is a whore.
- You’re a whore!
- Your mum’s a whore.
And Tom’s answer is the best:
- She is. She’s had five children.
When people’s friends come over which happens almost weekly. Fresh blood! On the other hand, when girlfriends/boyfriends come to visit it just means we don’t see either of them because they never leave the room, and we’re instead left to wonder why on Earth anyone would choose to start uni in a relationship. (No offence.)
How active our nights out – and in – are. In Estonia, we used to go ‘istuma’ or ‘jooma’ and that would literally be it: we’d sit around talking and drinking. But here we’ve got pub games like darts and pool which I absolutely love now that I’ve realised I’m not too bad at them. And when we stay in our halls, we just have to get a bit creative. Corridor football, corridor baseball, corridor bowling, rubbish bin basketball, drinking darts

(there are no winners in this. Everyone just gets completely wankered. Or should I say there are no losers?), hide and seek etc. Never a dull moment!
Drinking games in general (except the ones which include mixing drinks). And adding gentlemen’s rules to every game. They’re the following:

• No swearing.
• You can only drink with your left hand.
• You can’t cross your arms or legs.
• You can’t call anyone by their name.
• You can’t use the word drink or its cognates.
• You can’t point.

How Lotti created us all on Sims and apparently everything they do on there is absolutely true. It makes for a whole lot of intrigue. Finding out about ‘our’ antics is like a mix between watching an addictive soap and getting Gossip Girl’s updates.

Hate
Having two taps. Fucking ridiculous. Everywhere: in our rooms, in clubs, pubs, malls… And in some places they have a sign warning people that the water in the hot one is really hot. That doesn’t solve the problem though, does it? Don’t put up a sign, fix it! I’ve got used to it now and I don’t mind when I’m quickly rinsing my hands, but washing up is quite terrible.
I don’t really hate this, it’s just sad. Apparently in Rootes (which has the reputation of being the party halls) while playing drinking games some people have juice in their glass. What is the point of that?! Pathetic. Why even play then? Cryfield is so the new Rootes.

It’s complicated
The way Brits apologise for everything. Really, everything. Even buses have signs saying ‘sorry I’m not in service’. I am quite a polite person, if I do say so myself, but that’s getting ridiculous. Sometimes I just want to go ‘ooh, sorry, sorry, sorry. Sorry I’m alive’ à la Inbetweeners, because seriously, what are you apologising for?
Kopparberg Cider. Especially the pear one! Literally the best cider in the world, and I don’t even like pears. But also ridiculously expensive which is why I really need to stop buying it at the pub (one of these days).