The · Life · of · Mugford™

The last two weeks in Oxford have been amazing fun. Interview hosting (earning £6 an hour to watch Gladiator), long walks to South Hinksey (to discover huge posh houses, deciding that I am going to marry for money, knowing full well I will only marry for love), much time with Fiona and the rest of my gang who have been hanging around, much drunken debauchary, Poker nights, a christmas fancy dress party, two carol concerts and two christmas dinners, a visit from Pritchard, many Stargate eps (a season and a half watched in a week), an excursion with Karen in her mini to see Arabian Nights done by the Creation Company, dinner at Miss Love's (and got to see Archie her cat) and generally life has been ace. I'm really going to miss Oxford, everyone who is still left hear and of course my flat mate Carrie, who it will be weird to spend time apart from. But it is time to go home, via the fair land of Stoke of course, for a Christmas full of merriment. Hoorah.

Thanks to everyone who has made this term an ace term.

Another Oxford term over. It's been a good one. No tonsilitis, work gone well, no b*stards. Ace. AND kept my bounce.

Now it's time to earn money! Yey! Interview hosting is on the cards for the next two weeks. We love it. But in true Oxford style, today is walkies day. Let's get out of Oxford. Or we'll go insane.

I have to option of singing for joy and ranting until kingdom come. Instead I shall say ...

"How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!
It is like precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard,
Running down on Aaron's beard, down upon the collar of his robes.
It is as if the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life for evermore."
- Psalm 133

Happy fake Christmas!

Unfortunately I did not get Jonny Depp in my Pirates of the Cababin advent calendar, but I did get a magnet of him, and two cardboard cutouts of Captain Jack Sparrow and Davy Jones. I can't wait until real christmas. I'm having two advent calendars for real advent, another Pirates of the Cababin, but with only choc, not toys, which Carrie's mum bought me, and a nativity one that my mum bought me.

There was a point in my life when I thought Southerners were hilarious, mainly their accent.I distinctly remember watching the Demon Headmaster, and taking the michael out of the fact they said 'this is the voice of the demon Headmaaarster'. Not only that but on the Spice Girl's first video Posh Spice's comment of 'Blaaast from the Paaast' always called giggles. Even in later life, not long before I resided in the fair land of Oxford, I went to a summer school where people said 'naaaasty' and I remember going back home and realating this to my chums, who could not believe people actually spoke like that. Southerners are crazy.

My advice is not the best. Do not follow all of it. There are some bit of advice that are essential for a happy life. I never thought I'd have to state them, but it seems that my friends, while amazing, are also stupid. So just clarify things one should and should not do - purely for future reference:

1. Do not live with one's ex-boyfriend.
2. Do not get pregnant for the sake of benefits.
3. Do not kill someone.
4. Do not kill yourself.
5. Do not eat cheese and coleslaw sandwiches in my presence, or onion sandwiches for that matter.
6. Do not get so drunk you don't remember the evening.
7. Do not have rebound-sex.
8. Do not mention David Jason.
9. Do not laugh when someone says that someone else has died.
10. Do not eat too many beans.

All these things will lead to a happier life in general.

The cold wind is blowin' and the streets are getting dark
I'm writing you a letter and I don't know where to start
The bells will be ringing Saint John the Divine
I get a little lonely every year around this time

The music plays all night in Little Italy
The lights will be going up on old Rockefella's tree
People window shopping on Fifth Avenue
All I want for Christmas is you

(Tell me) I've got to know
Where do lonely hearts go
Because nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas

Things are different since you've been here last
Childhood dreaming is a thing of the past
Maybe you can bring us some hope this year
Visions of sugar plums have disappeared

Do you remember sleigh riding in the snow
And dancing all night to "Baby, Please Come Home"
Today's celebration is bittersweet
There's mothers and children in the street

(Tell me) I've got to know
Where do lonely hearts go
Because nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas

I'm all grown up but I'm the same you'll see
I'm writing this letter 'cause I still believe
Dear Santa I've been good this year
Can't you stay a little while with me right here

(Tell me) I've got to know
Where do lonely hearts go
Because nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas

Recently my livejournal entries has been rather sparse. Probably because I've got a lot to say, but don't quite know how to say it. Or may be that I'll end up giving a random list ...

I've seen another lot of husts go by, yet another JCR committee now elected, and good luck to them. I have big plans for being a very obnoxious fourth year at husts next year.

I'm broke at the moment; I owe people money. People owe me money. I did even do some paid work last week, which was ace. I'm staying down in Ox for hosting too, but I won't get money for doing that until January.

I'm popping over to Dublin for Christmas this year - time with the family and all that. New Year in the Lake District with the Ox crew should be eventful.

Work is ticking along - 3 more essays to go.

I'm very much looking forward to the Christmas Carol Service on Sunday. Yey! Christmas!! Lots of rehersals for that this week.

Chapel is still standing, and new Bible Clerk has been selected. A smaller version of the last one. Brasenose Bible Clerks are like mobile phones.

I'm looking forward to the return of Fiona next week (fionainjapan.blogspot.com).

Also, check out mine and Guy's firefox extension recommendations: guyrintoul.com

Is it wrong to be listening to Christmas music? I think not.

Christmas dinner was ace last night - I got an eye-patch.

It's Saturday night. I'm all alone in the world, as Ben and Christine have just left me, and Carrie's in the fair land of Basingstoke. This is the time when I should come up with some great D&M.

But I'm not. I'm going to say that Top Gear is ace. It's got the moves. It's got the chat. It's got a load of really cool cars. We figured today that in Feb it'll be 3 years since I last drove. I want to get back on the road again. Preferrably with a fit car.

What a week! I'm just about back to the mundane reality of life, but still requiring a great deal of sleep.

How I love Saturdays. Up at the crack of dawn and out to Sainsburys to purchase cakes for the choir, but looking as rough as anything. Stay in my scruffs without showering until as long as I have to while writing an essay and cleaning the flat. Then usually some random exciting delights - today involves belly dancing in the other room of my flat, and shoe shopping for Laura. Then hopefully a chilled Saturday night.

What a crazy last few days I've had, including:

- a bar quiz
- lots of alcohol
- two essays
- 4 birthday celebrations
- 1 of them surprise
- decoration creation
- a tute
- a lecture
- chapel stuff all Sunday
- little sleep

The birthday celebrations were ace. The essays were not so ace.

Sometimes it really feels that you have no control over your own life. This can be quite annoying, especially as far as other people are concerned. The main way to get around it I guess is to figure that everything will work out in the end. Keep plodding on.

This video brings tears to my eyes everytime.

I could really do with a good massage. I've got a terrible knot in my back and my shoulders are as tense as ever. If anyone wants to volunteer, feel free.

I've been in Oxford for a long time. Tomorrow it will be a longer time. Think about it.

Mugford recommends: Carousel at the OFS.

Fantastic performance of one of R&H's greatest musical. All singing, all dancing and some fab acting. It even made me cry (not that Mugford cries) - and a production of Carousel that doesn't make me cry is a bad production. This was far from. crii was absolutely ace in the lead.