So, it was my sister's fiance James' birthday last weekend so here I am... *ptui* "blogging" it.
They live in Manchester in two houses alongside a whole bundle of other Manchester University students (I say "other" but James isn't actually a student there) - affectionately known as "Christian Ghetto". It's by a nice park, which I had to walk back past all of when I got off the bus too late. James was giving me directions over the phone. I was told to get off after the Curry Mile but I couldn't tell where it ended.
Alright, I admit it. I didn't know how long the Curry Mile was. Sigh.
The house that was used for the party is... well, kind of two-dimensional. As in, narrow, long, and tall (three stories). Being the house all the blokes live in, it was also wired. Like, seven boxes next to the television, you need a macro to watch a DVD, humming switch on the stairs, cables everywhere, music server in the kitchen: an amalgamation of lots of people's electronic equipment. James' room, and this is the first time I've actually seen James' room (having never actually visited his house), is mental in this respect. Stuff-equipment-gadgets-clocks-electronics EVERYWHERE. No free surfaces. My sister has said that once they get married, James will have a dedicated room to fill with clutter so the rest of their house can say clean. Makes sense to me. I'm an obsessively tidy geek but messy geeks cannot and will not be made to change their ways, so the best solution is compartmentalisation. James has one of those clocks which tips a ball into a tray every minute, another ball every five minutes and a third every hour. They also have enough DVDs between them in that house to necessitate a computerised library. Freaks!
An equal number of girls arrived from (presumably) the other house. We all crammed into the front room around a coffee table for the party. Everybody had been asked to bring something beginning with J; I had failed. Someone had brought a joypad joined to a jam jar containing more other things beginning with J than everybody else combined had brought. He won. There was also a girl (whose name, like everybody I met, I have forgotten) who wore a jay-cloth skirt and hairband. They're more stylish than you'd think.
So they seemed like a fun bunch of people. We talked geeky stuff. Ate pizza. Ate jelly. (JIGSAW jelly, no less.) I saw a mouse. Where? In the kitchen, with no clogs anywhere to be seen. So apparently they have mice. And mice repellant plugs.
Around 1:40am I was hungry. I have long held the theory that there is a fourth meal of the day besides breakfast, lunch and dinner, a meal at around 1-3am, and if I had been back in Cambridge it would have been the Van (a term which actually refers to three separate, competing food-serving establishments, only two of which are, indeed, vans) to which I headed. However, this was Manchester, so I suggested a trip to the Curry Mile instead.
Astoundingly, NOBODY in the house had apparently ever visited the Curry Mile, even though it is practically on their doorstep and serves more than merely curry. Fools! So I went and got a burger and ate it on the way back. Then slept on sofa cushions, as is traditional, before heading home on Sunday afternoon. The scenery from the train between Manchester and Sheffield was as awesome as it had been on the outgoing journey - it is the Peak District, I later found out from maps. My geography is appalling, though it is improving as I attend more interviews.
Speaking of which: Ericsson, in Basingstoke, on Tuesday (8th May). Wish me luck.
