Wait. What?

"Wait. Asleep? You fell asleep?"

"Yeah... And then I woke up, about three hours later - "

"Three hours? And he didn't notice?"

What I love about my friends, what I really love, is that they can still, on occasion, shock me with unspeakably bizarre stories. That, and the fact that we can have a good old bitch every now and then which can be completely disregarded afterwards. And so, in celebration of friends, French and the joys of having part-time jobs...

We're going to Paris! And, for a change, it's more than a pipe dream. It's booked, paid for, and Sophie is probably setting her sights on new shoes especially for the trip as I type.

This is all part of the new, interesting student plan. Which entails getting off our arses and spending our hard-earned wages on something slightly more out-there than a new Topshop collection. Although, I must confess, the latter is rather appealing. But our parents are in on it, saying it's about time we were more cultured and interesting, and hopefully we will, in the future "meet interesting people and lead cultured lives". I can't help thinking that this is slightly optimistic, but, hey. If it means I'm going to get a ParisPass and some spending money for Christmas then I'm happy.

And spending is really so much more fun than saving.

Par contre, there are some slightly darker feelings lurking at the back of my mind. All of which stem from our unusually frank lunchtime chats. Today we were discussing who we'll keep in touch with when we go to uni (some surprises), the obsessions of those we know and Sophie's need for some, ahem, "stabilisers".

You've got to love her.

And the Christmas tally, thus far, goes:

Good things: Parties! Presents - esp. Ben's (he knows I love Buckley). Hours off to be spent debating the "meaning of life" (McDreamy vs. McSteamy, shoes, bizarre films, Pride and Prejudice etc.). Christmas dinner. And, peace and goodwill to all, I suppose.

Bad things: Christmas fucking carols. Santa not being real. Anticipation being better than the real thing. Stress headaches finding presents for everyone. Gorging oneself full of selection box to the point of death.

So it's pretty even. Hell, I think I actually like it more than I don't. (Must have an inner optimist)

Cricket. Bloody cricket. I am ashamed of my home nation. Bring back Monty, that's what I say.