Christmas, Cheescake and Cynism...

In that order.





Following that, I was whisked to my aunties house in the Norfolk countryside where my Dad's side of family laid in wait to prime me with jugs of 'pimms' and red wine; fill me up with the cold meat from the day before and dunk my face in flour. Yes, it was the only thing for me in house full of male cousins under the age of 13. 

Upon returning to the ice laden roads of Luton, I sharpishly painted my nails and put on my sequin skirt ready for 'Boxing Day Dark Party,' a concept which my Grandmother refused to understand. Phil 'Nightwolf' Gordon had left my name at the door, allowing me to walk smuggly into the club without paying and feeling like the belle of the Luton indie scene. 

I'm really not supposed to...

But yes. You can call me anything you want..




Over the past couple of weeks I have been working hard to complete essays to deadlines, which left me a shivering, sobbing wreck at my desk, but my housemates and I celebrated Christmas on Friday night in a big way..


The day began with an early morning wake up call, cups of tea and a nice breakfast. Grace and I went into the city where we spent a good hour marvelling at all sorts in 'T-KMax,' a shop whose charms I was not familiar with, until now. Upon returning home we wrapped our 'Secret Santa presents,' which culminated in an unfortunate series of events which rendered me not only obsessive about toilet roll, but also possessive over wrapping paper in Grace's eyes. Luckily, it later transpired that the 'Rupert the bear' wrapping paper I had been carrying around all day was part of her present. For the record, under normal circumstances, I like sharing wrapping paper.



After mulled wine, mince pies, sweets and a lot of cider with art historian friends round at our festive palace, we departed for a late night burger at 'Captain Americas.' A border-line seedy diner tucked away in the heart of Norwich. This is where things get hazy. I remember ordering a deluxe burger and half a larger, followed by a strange mix up which resulted in after dinner mints being used as payment. Not bad. Following that, a jaunt around Norwich from 'Pow' to the 'Playhouse' and back to 'Pow' again, whilst constantly having my glasses topped up with wine from a plastic 500ml bottle tucked in Grace's bag.