Happy New Year!!!

Gaah. They've changed blogger again. It's no longer beta, whatever that means, which I'm not entirely unhappy about, cos it was faffy and annoying, but I can't find any new cool stuff on this thingy, whatever it may be.

My camera is playing up. It keeps freezing up and not responding when you press the buttons. Suggestions, anyone?

I'm now back in Oxford, theoretically working. I went to my Auntie Margaret's for lunch on Saturday, which was great - we had yummy pie and I got given a teapot. My cousin has a new car - a swanky BMW with all sorts of hi-tech thingummies including self-dipping headlights (which nobody can figure out how they work*, but they do) as a wedding present from his fiancee's father. Eek.

I went down to London for New Year's Eve, and managed to get the bus to where I was supposed to be all by myself. Nik and I were at a party with one of his friends from school and his uni friends. I had a great time, managing not to get horrendously drunk and was compos mentis enough the next morning to fry eggs for everyone who was up. Hurrah. Here are some highlights from the evening when enthusiasm for Jenga waned, and certain people among us decided to instead play 'How many Jenga bricks can you fit in your mouth?', thus proving the victorious Nik's claim that 'everything is a competition if you want it to be.'
All the other photos on Facebook were a result of flagrant camera abuse by other people. Nik is a hero for making chilli at 1 a.m.

We went back to Surrey afterwards and sheltered under a blanket in front of 'Jeeves and Wooster'. I want to live in the 1930s. Lots of jazz and men in suits. Mmmm, Stephen Fry. Mmm. Too much Jeeves led to an after-dinner departure back to Oxford, and now I'm back in Nik's room where my stuff takes up half the floor space. This is supposed to be a comment on the size of his room, not on the amount of stuff I have. However, I do have more stuff. I wanted to buy some stuff in the sales, so I started in New Look, thinking I'd then move on to some real bargains, and pick up some lovely, well-cut, non-boring-high-street-chain-store clothes elsewhere, but no other clothes in Oxford fit me at all. Particularly jeans. I'm just too short. So I resigned myself to this and went and bought lots of tights to go with my two skirts from New Look. Hmm.

Off to Brussels tomorrow, yayayayayayay.

Am just going to listen to Just a Minute and then go and do something useful like post my brother's birthday card and get my boots reheeled. And make some soup with the enormous quantity of Stilton Nik's mum kindly gave me.

"Hey Churchill, are you the First Lord of the Admiralty and war-time Prime Minister who kept the Nazis from our shores?"

"Oh yes."

"Were you invested as a Knight of the Garter, bestowed with a Nobel Prize for Literature and voted the greatest Briton of all time?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes."

"And are you pleased to have those achievements commemorated by a talking, nodding insurance dog?"

"Errr... no."

*Oh lord, my first thought on typing that sentence was 'I'm sure I've written a syntax essay arguing why this is an impossible sentence'. Am now filled with vague uncomfortable twitchy feeling.