First up, the reason I haven't posted anything for nearly a week is because the internet's been down in my room, so I've not been able to update the blog.


Things have been progressing - I feel as if I'm actually getting somewhere with both my dissertation and MA application now, thanks to a couple of talks with Mick Short (my supervisor) for the former, and a flash of inspiration for the latter.

Last night was Valentine's Day. Being depressingly single, I went to see the Feminism Society's production of The Vagina Monologues (they were putting it on for a women's charity). Emilie got me some free tickets in return for writing a review for Scan (uni newspaper). Damn hard fitting an entire review, plus bits of opinion, into just 200 words, but I managed to get it down to 230 after a few hours of trimming. They want to take any more bits out, they can do.

After the play, I rejoined the Pulsar crowd, who were on a vicars and tarts bar crawl (or at least, the single ones were).

About ten minutes before midnight, things started to become interesting. I'm not going to say anything more yet, because only two other people know about the later stages of the story, and I don't want to give away too much that might upset or embarrass anyone involved. I know, I could very easily just not write about this at all, but it's a pretty major thing, as much for a temporary near-blip in my own sense of morality as for anything else. For those who do know about this, I'd like to reiterate what I've said to them already - there was no plan, I had no ulterior intentions, and it's not like anything happened in the end anyway.

And I've probably said too much. I just hope everyone else was too drunk to remember.