RAG Day

Since my friend, Hannah, has already begun her blog, I thought it appropriate to begin mine.

The year has been a substantially interesting one; living with the evil housemate for 12 weeks now and have finally escaped to phantasmagorical haven of Bridgwater.
Of course I have other housemates beside the evil one and they're lovely, but I think there is a shared feeling of relief to be having a break from him for three whole weeks.

Thursday the 17th (not the 19th as Hannah suggests - that number is today's!) was RAG day. Now, I had no idea that in some places the phrase 'on the rag' means to be having your period, so when I was talking to a bunch of Uni people last year about RAG day I got a few odd looks. RAG stands for 'Raise and Give', for those who don't know. Students of Bridgwater College (and ex-students) dress up for the day and wander round the freezing streets (often in very few clothes- at least no jackets) and collect money. We collected once in the three times I'v attended and got a grand total of £3. No one wants to give money to drunks, you see. Because really, that's what RAG day is about. Drinking. From dawn 'til well after dusk.

This year wasn't that great on account of the lack of friends attending. Most of the Bridgwater lot were sadly still at Uni. I had no real option for fancy dress so I was given some black ears and went as a cat. None of my accompanying friends were dressed up but I didn't feel out of place.

I was amazed by some of the costumes. There was one guy (or I assume that it was a man) with a giant disco ball for a head.

In other news, my mother was taken ill today and had to go to the hospital because her leg seized up and she could barely move at all. The poor woman was in limbo; halfway between standing and sitting. However, she's much better now and my Aunt and sister have gone to pick her up from Musgrove Hospital.

I was supposed to be spending tomorrow evening at my cousins' house in Windsor but I doubt very much that I will be now. My father is coming down on the 22nd to torment us all for an entire week. It might be nice to see him, although I can't help feeling that we would benefit from his visit being shorter. I bought him chocolate tools for Christmas. The only thing he ever gets is chocolate. Occasionally he'll recieve a mug or a diary or something of the sort but he is by far the worst family member to buy for; yet because of this he is also the cheapest. My mother is getting sugar mice (although I might buy her a small bar of Turkish Delight in case she doesn't like them) and my brother's getting gobstobbers. My sister's present is along similar lines but I'm afraid to write it down in case she somehow stumbles across this blog in the next week.

I've been reading 'Oryx and Crake' this week for my Dystopias module next semester. I finished the book about two days ago and have to say that it is one of the best books I've ever read. I got through it much quicker than '1984' and 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep' (both for the same module) and I could hardly put it down. If you have the chance you should read it. In many ways I can see Crake's point. His is a better world in many ways, although not one that I would enjoy living in. He's my favourite character, as anyone who knows me could probably guess.