Christmastime, Mistletoe and Jäeger…

That’s the lyrics, right?

Good old Cliff, the cheeky minx.

And so this post (more than) officially concludes my first term at uni…I clearly have an A* in timekeeping, I actually came home on the 12th.

*Slow clap*

We most definitely ended the year on a bang.

All of my flatmates and I headed to our local-est of local haunts and had the weirdest night ever….we’re convinced we all fell into some kind of Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole.

Think ecstasy without the…err ecstasy.

In my case, after one too many Jäegerbombs (bought by a very nice guy at the bar…did drunk Laura stay and thank him? Nope…she drank two, handed the rest to her friends and strutted off into a door..yes, into #nailedit….I digress) I decided to go for an “epic” adventure.

Aka I tottered off alone to a bench outside our flat to “get some air”.

Seems I have a little bit of a penchant for the outdoors when I’m tipsy (pissed)…I once made my flatmate lap a very drunk me around our uni accommodation eight times because I was “enjoying the breeze”.

There are no words.

(Thanks babe.)

Whilst there a very *handsy* arse decides to try and hit on me…I shoved him off, got up to leave and fell smack bang onto my chin.

It was the heels.

I swear.

It wasn’t.

I lied.

How-to-test-if-Youre-drunk-meme-cat-kitty-kitten

It hurt.

And I didn’t get a kiss under the mistletoe.

Turns out I then decided this was a reasonable enough trigger to get home and full on ugly cry, only to find most of my other female flatmates in tears too.

what-the-fuck-is-this

No one will ever truly know what went down that night.

Oh, hang on…

…maybe it was just that creepy bartender…

…you know…

…the one pouring our drinks.

original

All in all we had a great last night out though, and a great term. I miss them all already!

cover

And so, in the words of my spirit animal, Bridget Jones…

December 16th, year-end summary:

Prison stays, none.
Alcohol poisonings, two.
Lesbian kisses (don’t ask), three (minds OUT of gutters).
Pounds lost, minus one (okay minus seven).
Boyfriends lost but then regained following major diplomatic incident, none #forveralone.
Marriage proposals, see above.
Boys kissed, you guys are such pervs, honestly.
New friends made, six (I hope).

An excellent year’s progress.

Overpacked and Underpaid has most definitely not cocked things up for the very last time.

Pinkie promise.

😉

Do you have a plaster?

Based on recent estimates, I now believe that I spend around 90% of my free time (and 100% of my…err….non-free time) staring at pictures of men…

Hundreds of them, all on my phone.

No…I haven’t just gotten cozy with the university rugby team, or the football team, or the lacrosse team…

Le grande sigh.

And no I haven’t (more likely) discovered Porn in Your Pocket or Porn2Go or Porns ‘R’ Us or whatever those sites are called (please tell me none of these are actually real websites)…

In actual fact my flatmates persuaded (forced me pain of death) to get Tinder.

Now I’m addicted.

In the words of Howard from Fresh Meat…I’ve already completed it once.

Yes, you heard me right…when I first got it I was so interested on flicking everyone into the no pile, I actually exhausted all the men in my area (HAHAHA….hahaha ha..ha…no…I wish).

I’ve now had to make a new profile which I shall handle with more care.

Must….resist…the….X….button…

*Hand shakes*

Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no intention of actually talking to these people…

In fact I was actually quite pissed off when I found out that the whole purpose of the App was for it to be a dating tool…why can’t I just stalk people in peace? In the privacy of my own home…without them knowing about it….

Plus the majority of the guys on here are absolute twats.

No offence.

But seriously.

You don’t even want to know some of the chat up lines I’ve been sent.

The only one I could give credit to so far would have to be “I wish you were my big toe”….”so I can bang you on all the furniture in my house”.

I spat out my water.

I am in no way recommending you get this App.

For the sake of your own sanity and yes, physical health (The Illest MF Alive guy popped up on screen just after I logged on for the first time…I fell off the bed in shock…you know that weird feeling people are watching you…yeah…that) DO NOT DOWNLOAD IT.

In fact, your general sense of paranoia will be permanently increased…like what if you accidentally bump into one of these people in real life….what if they recognize you from your profile…what if Facebook decides that they’re going to suddenly post everyone’s dating preferences and subsequent conversations online…

You just downloaded it didn’t you.

Naughty.

I tried.

*Surreptitiously opens App*

Social Media’d…

This is not a drill!

I repeat, this is not a drill!

I clicked some buttons (don’t ask me which ones) and now Overpacked and Underpaid has a Facebook page.

*Canned cheers*

Push my buttons at: https://www.facebook.com/overpackedandunderpaid

(NOT).

And yes, I know I am crap at all this social media malarky…

…I’m trying ok!

Like/follow/comment/tweet/instagram/tumblr/carrier pigeon me and I’ll get back to you.

Promise.

Over and out.

Stalk Me (No, Actually)…A Day in the Life…

Well considering today is the two month anniversary of Overpacked and Underpaid, I thought that you and I would…you know…get to know eachother a little more…intimately.

Here, I found your mind, I think you dropped it in the gutter…

Boom boom!

I’ll let myself out…

Anyway all of you lovelies that actually read my posts, (and I know some of you do…you can run but you can’t hide, I have wobbly bar charts and numbers…I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE…actually I really don’t…but…err…I KNOW WHERE YOU BLOG…occasionally…when you follow me via WordPress), will know that I am studying History and English with Spanish at university, and so I thought I’d let you in on a typical day in my life…

Ooh aren’t you lucky!

https://i0.wp.com/upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7d/UoEx_Forum.JPG

Monday 21st October 2013

Wake up at 7:30 to the unsurpassable sounds of radio Devon; listen to news of national and international importance such as “man in Devon has been going around shooting signs, to prove this, other man in Devon has been going around taking photos of said shot signs”, “outrage as lollipop man quits after being threatened with suspension for high-fiving kids rather than watching the road” and “small village interviews for a new local witch, no experience necessary” #srsbusiness.

Roll out of bed, shower and simultaneously flood and steam up bathroom, eat breakfast (cereal in a cup, stirred not shaken) and make my way up the hill for my first 9am history seminar on “the supernatural in early modern England”. Discus white witches for two hours, stare at hot history boys.

Walk back (making conscious effort not to pencil roll down hill) and whip up lunch out of remaining ingredients in fridge (eggs and…well…eggs), frantically do Spanish homework.

Head back up the bloody hill for double Spanish, spend two hours trying to stop myself doing something inappropriate/naughty out of sheer boredom (see: I’m Bored or How To: Procrastinate) as the class is a little too easy for me and I’ve done everything before.

Hot foot it over to my English lecture and search for tall friends so as not to look like a complete loner…try not to fall asleep or do any of the aforementioned inappropriate things, take lots of notes with one hand whilst simultaneously covertly stalking Facebook and Tumblr with the other.

Head back to flat, chat to flatmates and cook some dinner out of remainder of cupboard ingredients (tacos and…well…tacos).

Change into dance wear and head down to my beginners jazz class…roll around floor for an hour trying to ignore the indigestion from the food I’ve only just eaten and not poke one of my fellow dancers in the eye with my flailing hands and feet.

Head back to flat, spend evening in the kitchen with flatmates chatting and generally avoiding doing any work.

Do blogmin.

[Insert non-existent sex life here].

Sleep.

Well wasn’t that just…thrilling?

So there you have it, a day in the life of a British university student.

P.S. THANK YOU to all you lovelies who have been reading, following and commenting on my posts over the last two months I really, really appreciate it! Please keep sharing Overpacked and Underpaid with everyone you know, too many readers don’t spoil the blog ;).

I’m bored, I’m the chairman of the bored…

I had the most boring lecture in the history of all lectures today. The professor kept jumping from topic to topic and relapsing into her native language…DO I LOOK BILINGUAL TO YOU?

Oh why thank you.

(I’m not)

Does this face look bovvered about whether the Treason Act of 1351 which forbid imagining the death of the king, shagging his wife and counterfeiting the royal symbol, was breached by Sir Gawain in ‘Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’ and thus allegorically demonstrated through the drawing and quartering of the hunted animals in the woods?

Err it does actually…

…quite a bit.

IT WAS THE DELIVERY, OKAY?

It was one of those classes that was so boring it makes you want to do something naughty and completely inappropriate to claim back the hours of your life you just wasted.

I may have considered pencil rolling down the isles, wearing my notebook as a hat, jumping out of a window, laughing really loudly, belting “My Heart Will Go On” with full Leo and Kate moves and willing someone to do a really loud fart.

Not necessarily in that order.

In fact I’m currently wearing my Spanish dictionary as a cheeky chapeau…has a little bit of je ne sais quoi to it don’t you think?

What’s that?

You don’t think I should be on the fashion show committee?

*Struts off with dictio-hat*

*Hat falls off head*

*Trips over hat*

*Falls into ditch*

I’ve realised that I’ve actually been more bored than usual since I’ve been at university, which lead me to the terrifying conclusion that it’s because I’ve been doing so much I’ve consequently become less lazy.

Hold on, I thought I just saw a pig flying past my window.

I used to be able to quite happily wile my days away watching YouTube and scrolling through Twitter and Facebook, now I actually have to do stuff to keep myself occupied.

This was especially apparent last night when, out of the sheer boredom of having finished all my work (say what?), I worked out how to turn my chair into a Ramba Zamba…

…which basically consists of straddling it backward and spinning round very fast.

In fact I’m off to have a go now.

Toodaloo motherfuckers!

P.S. “Dictio-hat” is a mashup (gold stars to anyone who gets that reference).

Americanophile…

I’m not a 100% sure that this is a real word, but its on Urban Dictionary and that’s all that matters really isn’t it?

Being British is all the rage right now what with One Direction and….err…One Direction and although I’m extremely patriotic and I love my home country, I kinda have a thing for all things American.

I applied to four American colleges alongside my British ones. I love the idea of a well-rounded university experience, where extra-curriculars are just as important as academics. I love the teaching system, where it’s okay to not know exactly what you want to do, and to dabble in other subjects. I love the general grandness and beauty of the campuses…uugghhh FEELS.

Admittedly I did not put the required amount of work into my applications *couch* SATs *cough* but I still get a little stab of pain every time I think of what could have been.

Or see the Facebook photos of a girl who went to my school and is now happily settling in to NYU.

I’m not jealous.

I’M NOT!

I am.

A teensy bit.

A lot.

I can’t even pinpoint what it is exactly that draws me to it. In actual fact my trip to LA was a little disappointing…and downright terrifying at times…I’ll be writing a post about it soon…you shall see.

There’s been a few occasions at uni when I’ve walked past some US exchange students with American accents.

*Instant death*

Does anyone else have similar unaccountable, misplaced feelings about the states? I know that being an Anglophile is kind of a big thing in America but I’ve never heard of it in reverse.

I think we should call it “across the pond syndrome”.

Anyone have a spare ticket to New York?

GGG…

Oh hi October 2nd!

I’ve been off the internet for a few days, if you haven’t noticed, which I’m sure you have….

No?

*Whatever sign with fingers whilst simultaneously rotating on spinny chair*

Anyway…while I’ve been quite happily (or unhappily as the case may be…post coming soon) going about my daily life unawares, turns out I’ve been being watched….by stalkers…

Dun dun duuuuuuunnnn

…okay so maybe they’re not technically stalkers…It’s actually just my mum and nan…

It seems everyone else I know has parents and grandparents who don’t give a flying fuck about anything to do with technology, their Facebook is their own domain to upload as many drunken photos and sweary statuses as they like.

In my family however, it’s a little different…

My Nan’s nickname is Triple G, which if you don’t know is Granny Puckett in Hoodwinked…go watch it…that’s an order…

When we got her a laptop last year, we were convinced we were going to have to set her up on one of those silver surfer courses for absolute novices. What actually happened is we got her plugged in and connected to the internet, showed her how to open applications like internet and word…the next thing we know she’s friending us on Facebook, printing out photos, e-mailing our family in Australia and typing up all her letters.

Her explanation?

She had to use a typewriter when she was a secretary in the 1950s

*Mind blown*

A couple of weeks ago she told me she’d been reading my blog on blogger…totally not the reason I moved to WordPress…like at all…

A few days ago, she commented on a drunken foam party photo that one of my flatmates had uploaded and tagged me in.

Do you know how awkward it is to have to explain to someone you don’t know that well that yes, you do know that old lady who just posted on her wall “I thought you weren’t having any fun at Uni”, and yes, you may just be related to her…

My mum is also the real life version of the stalker mum in the movie New Year’s Eve…if your post even so much as threatens to enter her news feed, she’s read it…

I suppose sometimes aspects of it do come in handy, like being able to Skype them when my homesickness reaches unbearable levels (which it has at times…side effect of being really really close to your family)

Other times not so much…

…like when my nan made an international phone call I had to to pay for when I was living in Spain because she couldn’t x off the Norton anti-virus window…

*Smh*