There was a picnic scheduled for yesterday afternoon, but the weather was horrible, so we decided to have our own picnic on the kitchen floor instead. Our yellow wall is a pretty good replacement for sunshine. Or at least, between that and my vitamin D supplement, the closest thing to sunshine I'm likely to see for the next six months (infinite sadness). But to be fair to the wall, it is a very nice wall.
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| The earlycomers. |
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| All the picnic food groups! |
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| Basking in the... wall. |
Sadly, the picnic was cut short by a block meeting, where we met the tutor in charge of our building and discovered that Henrik and I are literally the only people in our entire building who aren't from Asia. I'm not sure whether the curious stares we kept attracting all day were because of that, or because of the fact that we were having a large picnic on the kitchen floor. I suspect a bit of both. I volunteered to be one of the block reps, because no one else seemed to be putting their hands up, so I have no idea what I've just got myself into. The tutor said that it was nothing but a meeting once a term with free pizza, but I imagine that's just a euphemism for dark and dangerous quests through unknown lands. And I probably won't be able to eat the pizza anyway. Why do I do these things?
And you wouldn't think it needed saying, but...
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| Unless you are Amanda Palmer. |
I have no idea where the sound is coming from. It doesn't sound like it's coming from the flat on the other side of us, Henrik swears it isn't him, and it seems unlikely that anyone's trying to serenade either of us at our window with two-chord love songs, which leads me to suspect that the phantom ukelele player is in one of the mysterious locked rooms in our flat, which would, on the plus side, solve two mysteries at once. So one door (obviously) goes to Narnia, and the other one conceals the phantom ukelele player.
Either that or my flatmate has a secret identity.
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