Just call me Jones…

…Bridget Jones, that is.

You know the scene in The Edge of Reason where Bridget attends Mr Darcey’s law council dinner in scary knickers and bad hair, insults everyone by calling them “balding upper-middle-class twits” and gets the quiz answer completely wrong?

Well extend that over a four hour period and throw in the fact that I am not a romanticised fictional character but in fact a real life person and you’ve basically got the evening I just had.

In a bid to be “proactive” and to “take part” *bleugh*, I attended a film society meeting this afternoon in a lovely little tea shop where I learnt about aperture and ISO and low key lighting…all very serious business.

Getting there I had my brolly blow inside out and rip and so I was subsequently drenched in torrential rain. I arrived looking like a drowned rat and spent the remainder of the evening cold and moist with hair that could pass for a Halloween wig.

Despite my appearance, I was then invited along to a screen talk on ‘A Dangerous Method’…you know, the film about Freud and Jung with Keira Knightly as Sabina Spielrein and….well…the infamous spanking scene.

Seems lovely you say…

Well yes it was, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more out of place in my life.

I went with three other people I’d never met before, all of whom turned out to be studying film and so we’re wonderfully cultured and having conversations about filmmakers, directors and critical film theory.

My equivalent to the “lucky star” moment, and in fact my only contribution to the conversation was: (talking about Cate Blanchett) “I thought she was good in Elizabeth”.

*Slow clap*

While they were smoking cigarettes and discussing the cinematography of  ‘Sans Soleil’ I was waddling along trying desperately to remember any kind of half decent film I’d seen in the last five years and not to blurt out that my favourite director is, in fact, Richard Curtis and ‘Love Actually’ or perhaps ‘About time’ may just be my favourite film.

How anyone can be so painfully uncool is beyond me.

Oh and did I mention, as I walked back with everyone to the wrong side of campus, I had the good fortune to be able to top off the night with my first trudge up bloody Cardiac Hill…which I didn’t even realise was Cardiac Hill until I got to the top and wondered why I was dripping with sweat and having a mini coronary.

I think it would be safer for me to avoid all social interaction in the future…

P.S. Yes, I have heard the terrible news about the new Bridget Jones book…I haven’t even read it yet and I’m already in mourning!

On Wednesdays we wear pink….

Believe it or not, I’ve done a lot more this week than just poison myself with toxic substances…

A large majority of my time has been taken up by joining societies, which basically involves being pounced on by third years until you cave and pay thirty quid to join their Where’s Wally hide and seek club (exists)….

Choosing which society to be a part of, however, is actually a lot more complicated that you might first imagine…

*Pulls down rolling blackboard, points wooden stick*

Now you may think I’m leaning too far towards the stereotype, but it is true that in choosing which societies to be a part of, you’re essentially choosing the type of people you want to be friends with for the next three years…

Do you want to be in with the jocks who have crazy society nights where they do horrific things like drinking sick (seriously this happened), do you want to be a “media type”, an academic, a fashionista, a musician….?

So far I’ve joined the newspaper, radio and TV stations, the fitness club, the meditation society and the film society. I almost joined the cheerleading club…its so fun and the outfits were so cute but as much as I love it, my debit card refuses to co-operate…

In actual fact, one of the main campus banks went totally bankrupt this past weekend from all the withdrawals…I swear it wasn’t all me!

Feel free to judge my selection…

P.S. I totally had the Spice Girls Who Do You Think You Are? on a loop in my head while writing this post…please blast and awkward-dance accordingly…

P.P.S. If I haven’t already mentioned…societies are bloody expensive! I don’t think I can bear to even look at my overdraft right now…

Oh to be a student…