Small Acts of Defiance

I'm a pretty straight-laced kind of gal. Okay, I'm a rather kooky straight-laced kind of gal, but I'm no firestarter or rebel. The wildest thing I've ever done is break into a park at 2am with a couple of friends, a picnic blanket and some snacks and fruit juice to watch a meteorite shower (we crawled through a wall of bushes to get in, all the while worrying about angry badgers).

However, every once in a while, I'll demonstrate my disdain for society's more silly unspoken rules, in my own small way. Breaking into a park on a Saturday night to watch the stars and have a non-alcoholic picnic instead of going clubbing was definitely one of those times (I still believe that secretly no-one actually enjoys clubbing). I had another of those moments yesterday on the way to London Comicon.

I've been looking forward to this year's Comicon for ages, because it's only the second time I would have gone in full cosplay- wig and all. I'm pretty proud of my costume: it took a lot of time and effort to put it together. Originally I was going to go with a group of people, also in costume. However, at the last minute, it transpired that I would now be the only in costume, as a result of either people dropping out or others not finishing their costumes in time.

It also meant I'd be meeting my remaining friends at the venue, and that I'd be travelling alone in costume.

On public transport.

To hell with it. I did it anyway.

Of course, since this is England, no-one made eye contact with me- instead there was a lot of surreptitious setting of smartphones to camera mode around me. And of course, no-one will sit next to you if you look like this:

(Especially if you put on a creeper face).

But to be honest, this is London: there are far stranger folk on the London Underground than a girl dressed as an anime character (Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica, for the record). As I got closer and closer to the venue, I ceased to become the only person in costume on my carriage, anyway.

Still, it does take a bit of guts to do what I did: I did have to remind myself just to have fun since I wasn't hurting anyone, and not to care about people thinking I was weird. Okay, they may be right, but I'm not bad-type weird.

This is an age of of self-image, where you can filter your life to look however you want it to look on the likes of Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. However, it takes a lot more effort to actually *be* the person you want to be in real life, with no filters or editing. The person I want to be isn't afraid to do something just because others might raise a judgemental eyebrow. Sometimes, to be the person you want to be, you just have to stick your tongue out at quirked eyebrows and do it your way.

Like a boss.

Best Valentine's Day Ever

"Geeeek!" A girl called out, pointing dramatically at the guy who had answered a particularly tough question correctly. The rest of the room laughed raucously. It was the right place for it: after all, it was Geek Quiz Night.

I have never done anything in particular for Valentine's day, even when I was in a relationship. I don't have anything particularly against it, but I don't see the point of it either- why do we need one official day to tell a special someone we love them, much less throw money at heart-shaped tat? Needless to say, my casual stance on the whole thing has me both celebrating neither the original Valentine's day nor anti-Valentine's day nor even 'singles awareness day'.

This year, in the spirit of embracing my new more sociable self and also to cheer up one of my friends who's special someone is serving in the force at the moment, three of us ventured out into Central London to grab food and see the new Lego movie.

After dinner, we still had almost two hours to go until the movie, so I dragged my two friends to MADD, a hipster geek-chic dessert bar that styles itself on serving its desserts with fresh mango while offering retro arcade games, newer Playstation and Xbox games and a huge selection of card and board games to play with- not to mention a great variety of retro video game-themed cocktails. The three of us being pretty geeky, we felt right at home.

A large group had gathered in the middle of the room, and we caught snippets of conversation about a geek quiz being held. That sounded awesome! Just as my friends and I were debating on asking if we could join in, the organiser stopped by our table and asked if we'd like to join in. Yes please!

The Lego movie now abandoned for some spontaneous geekery, we ended up having a slightly bonkers and entirely great fun night. During the charity raffle in the middle of the quiz one of my friends won a homemade nail polish, and I won a big, gorgeous copy of The Adventures and Memoires of Sherlock Holmes, which I spent the remaining duration of the quiz hugging (and which I am now currently devouring at terrifying speed).

What a great group of people it was, too: sometimes I'm wary about proclaiming myself to be a geek, especially as a girl, because sometimes people can get quite competitive and weirdly aggressive about it. The room last night was full of TV geeks, film geeks, book geeks, gamer geeks, baking geeks- all different kinds.

The night was full of good food, good experiences and good company, and out of all of the Valentine's days that have snuck past me, this one was definitely my favourite so far.

An Illusion of Class

I'm writing this sitting in the First Class carriage of a Virgin Train, on my way to celebrate a friend's birthday in Birmingham, wearing my favourite cat-Avengers T-shirt. I had a ridiculous moment this morning where I considered wearing something smarter for the journey.

I don't often travel by First Class and I wondered if my very geeky attire was too... plebeian. Thankfully I came to my senses and remembered that no-one cares about that sort of nonsense any more- and anyway, I was just going on the train,  not Buckingham bloody Palace.

In any case, here I am, and I was right not to worry. Yes there are handful of stuffy-looking businesspeople, but there's plenty of average Joes and Janes like myself, a token loudmouth couple with obnoxious ringtones, and a guy in the biggest, shabbiest straw hat I've ever seen wearing an overall-ed getup that has 'farmer' stamped all over it.

I think that between my T-shirt and his hat, people are more likely to notice the hat. Either way, no-one minds at all.

Self-Marketing: A Case Study with a Surprise

Everyone has different facets of their personality. At least, people are rarely two-dimensional, and there are lots of things that make you, well, you. However, I believe everyone has a facet that they put out there as their main USP for the world to judge them with. It's hard for me to determine what my own main USP is, but my general geekiness is definitely one that I don't bother to suppress.

This weekend I managed to bust out two almost contrasting sides of myself, one day after another: the Geeky Dorky Girl (GDG), and the slightly rarer Sophisticated City Gal (SCG) . Where GDG has a shy, slightly bashful smile, is hesitant to meet your eyes and will suddenly become comically animated when you talk to her about sci-fi, Super Mario or fantasy, SCG is confident and collected with an easy laugh.

On Friday night I was SCG, and Saturday and Sunday I was GDG.

My friend Siu Yen came to visit me in London over the weekend, and we began by going to a cocktail bar on the Friday night. We both styled ourselves with nice-but-not-too-OTT dresses, tamed and styled our hair to enhance our natural looks (sleek and straight for Siu Yen, boho waves for me), and made our faces up with careful precision (again to suit our natural looks, because neither of us likes the heavy makeup look). Still, we were pretty polished, and looking at our best for the evening.

Siu Yen and I are both slightly dorky and cute but very intelligent, and we share a very similar sense of humour and way of thinking- but Siu Yen is a little more used to dressing up and partying in the more traditional sense than I am- don't get me wrong, I love doing girly stuff, but my time is more often taken up by nerdy things like conventions and visiting places. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see me all dolled up when we met for cocktails with another friend (that's how often I go the extra mile to look nice), and off we went to hit the bar.

The first person to try to strike up a conversation with me at the bar was a man old enough to be my father. I politely chatted with him without encouraging further questions until he moved on to rejoin his group of friends, and I turned to Siu Yen and lamented at how I only ever seem to attract much older guys (it certainly seems to be true, sometimes). However to my personal quiet relief, another guy started chatting to me, and he was more my age. Thank goodness it's not only older men that like the look of me, after all! I mean I know I'm awesome on the inside, but let's face it: in this unjust world, first impressions are everything. In any case, I wasn't interested, and after a few good-natured digs at each other's choices of drinks I re-grouped with my friends.

I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I was interested in the second guy, and I thought of how he'd probably run a mile as soon as he found out that beneath my charming, elegant exterior was hiding a slightly awkward supernerd who only properly styles her hair once every few months. I certainly found that the young professional guys during my social experiment pretty much eliminated me as a serious option the more they discovered how dorky I really am. On the other scale of things, when I'm 'off-duty' and just my normal slightly dorky self, there's still a professional,strong-willed and sharp person under that, too.

In any case, it gave me a bit of an always much-needed confidence boost. I often think that older men chat me up because they think I might be easier because I'm not as stunning as other girls in the room (I'm alright-looking, but I'm no classic Ten). It's nice once in a while when I get noticed by someone more my age in any case, even if on a selfish level because I'm not interested back. Anyway, at the end of the evening I took my SCG face off, brushed my immaculate SCG curls back into my hair's usual slightly fluffy shock of waves, and by the next day I'd morphed into GDG- my fallback facet.

I own quite a few nerdy T-shirts. A Big Bang Theory-themed one with the word 'BAZINGA' emblazoned on the front in large writing, a crossover one with some minions from Despicable Me carrying off the TARDIS, more than one My Neighbour Totoro T-shirt, one with the Thundercats logo, a pretty cool 3D effect from from Cyberdog... but my current favourite one is a picture of all the main characters of Marvel's The Avengers as cartoon cats. It's freaking adorable. This is what I wore on Saturday, with some cropped linen trousers and sandals. Not exactly 'hot girl material', but it was very me.

Ironically, I told Siu Yen about my theory about me getting more attention when I'm dressed up, but whenever I'm more like myself, no-one so much as glances in my direction. I noted how although I hate being the centre of attention and quite like vanishing into the crowd, I do feel kind of sad that the exterior of the 'real me' doesn't seem worth a bother. Does that mean that the interior that goes with it isn't worth a bother, too? That is of course ridiculous- but the problem of course is that you have to get to know me over time to realise there's more to me than that. It's the same for everybody- but alas, some people get a visual head start in life.

The irony of that conversation happened when Siu Yen and I went shopping, and I was paying for my stuff at the checkout of a semi-stylish high street store. The guy serving me at the counter glanced at my Avenger Cats T-shirt and quirked an eyebrow at me. I felt a little self-conscious, but stared back politely but defiantly. I assessed him quickly: gelled spiky hair, effortless smart-casual style, a slightly haughty stance- he probably didn't have a nerdy bone in his body.

"Nice shirt," he said, scanning the surprisingly) fashionable top I'd just bought.

"Thanks," I said, thinking he was being slightly sarcastic but deciding to play along as if he were being sincere. "Cats- awesome, Avengers- epic, can't go wrong!"

The guy grinned, and I suddenly felt slightly defensive.

"Sorry," I said, instantly mad at myself for apologising like I always do, "Super-geek."

He looked a little surprised, and then he said something that blew me away.

"Me, too. Marvel, games, Warcraft, love it."

Now I was the one judging a book by its cover. Great. Wait, Warcraft?

"World of Warcraft? I lost like, a good two years of my life to that game! I quit just before the Cataclysm expansion because I got bored of how long it took to get from level 75 to 80."

"Well I've lost eight years and counting, but I really got into it during the Wrath of the Litch King."

"That's when I started playing, but I got sick of waiting for the right gear to drop from bosses."

"I guess I got lucky, now I have three level 90 guys."

"Geeze that's dedication."

I was aware of Siu Yen grinning off to the side, a little non-plussed at the WoW talk having never played it. In the end I paid for my stuff, all the while chatting away about the nerdiest stuff ever, and left grinning like a lunatic. Finally, for once someone noticing the real (well, more genuine) me from the start! It felt amazing. Maybe I don't have to be SCG all the time to be taken seriously as a person. I spent the rest of the day in a great mood.

The next day, I came to the station with Siu Yen to see her off, wearing my BAZINGA top. When we were in the coffee shop, the girl behind the counter pointed to my T-shirt and said to me "amazing top, I LOVE that show! Where did you get it from?"

I was in a great mood that day, too.

So even I am guilty of judging people by the way they present themselves, and there are people out there that will notice me when I'm not all dolled up too. In which case, I should learn to look at people in a different way, and remember that there's more to people than what they put out there on the surface for the world to see. I know this. Everyone knows this. It's just hard to remember sometimes when you're wrapped up in your own world of facets.

In Which I Conduct a Social Experiment

Or more to the point, in which I go speed dating.

You heard me.

A couple of weeks ago two colleagues and I were talking about the merits of being single, and somehow we got onto the topic of how to flirt. None of us could decide on how to define flirting exactly, so as a joke we Googled 'flirting workshop'. We actually found one! Only they cost over £200 for a day course.

Two hundred smackeroos of my hard-earned cash to learn how to flirt? Seriously?

Anyway, one thing led to another and we ended up agreeing it would be jolly good fun if we signed up for speed dating, which happened a couple of nights ago, on Saturday night. In the end neither of my colleagues made it, one having never actually gotten around to booking and the other having to go to a friend's wedding. Thankfully (really, really thankfully) I found a couple of other people to go with instead.

Off we trotted to the bar, making sure we were intentionally ten minutes late to avoid being the first ones there. Of course, we were the first ones there. I was rather amused and more than slightly worried that the doormen (or rather doorladies) began to ask for our IDs, but then told us not to worry and go straight in and downstairs to the event bar when they realised we were there for the speed dating event.

So if we're just here to down booze we need to be ID-ed, but if we're here to meet a bunch of random strangers whilst downing booze at the same time it's a-okay? Huh.

Even though we were the first to the scene, we were very quickly followed by more ladies ("What did I tell you? The girls always arrive first," I heard one say to her friend). Soon enough the place was full: twenty girls, eighteen guys (because two guys had chickened out failed to turn up). It was a relatively small room, and to my slight discomfort I realised that dates would be sitting side-by-side on sofas rather than face-to-face like an interview. Scratch that, I'm not sure which is worse. Anyway, the rules were that girls stayed where they were and guys rotated, often having to squeeze onto the sofas by sliding past the fixed tables (I was particularly glad I didn't have to move as I'm not known for my natural poise and grace).

The bell rang. Off we went: four minutes per person and *DINGDINGDING*, time to move on to the next.

Speed dating is surprisingly exhausting, even if you're a talkative person. As a writer, I'm quite contented to sit for hours on end and type or scrawl, and as for the quality of my writing- I've been told I could convince anyone to do anything, on paper. Talking... not so much. Some people are blessed with a silver tongue- mine's more like one of those roll-up party horns. As a result, when I talk- especially about the things I'm interested about- I think I sound rather manic.

Combine manic speed-talking with a whole load of wild hand gestures and an increasingly shrill voice as I struggled to compete with the growing din of a large crowd with booming club music in a small room, and you'll get a general feel for how I was coming off.

Combine this with my unbridled geekiness, then, well...

I joked with some other friends that I wasn't worried about meeting weirdos: I'D be the weirdo. I joked that there would be guys going home later that night, going back to their mates and saying "Yeah... there was this one really crazy girl there..." By the time I left, I really felt like I'd completed my own prophecy. The confident guys either humoured me or, in one case, acted physically repelled by me (although the latter wasn't much liked by my friends either because of his slightly arrogant air), and the shy guys were overwhelmed by me.

Without further ado, here were some of the most memorable moments of the evening on my end.

The Good:

One guy asked me what the most exciting thing I'd done in the last couple of years was (I replied I went to Go Ape). This was a nice change from the 'so what do you do?' or 'is this your first time speed dating?' questions I'd been asked. As the minutes went by the subject of me once doing a lot of battle reenactment came up, and I was impressed that he actually asked what century reenactment my group did and what kind of sword I had. I asked him what TV and books he liked, and just as he replied 'Game of Thrones' the bell went *DINGDINGDING* before I had a chance to enthuse. Ah well- such is the nature of speed dating. I scribbled 'Paddy- Game if Thrones' hurriedly as a prompt on my 'score sheet'.

As soon as this other guy sat down, I decided to ask him what the most geeky thing about him was. To my puzzlement and amusement, he stared at me, blinked and suddenly replied "You know what, screw this. I'm liking your blue dress and black cardi thingy combo." I laughed and said thanks, but I still expected him to answer the question. When I asked him what he did, he only replied "All in good time." As our conversation progressed it became very apparent that there were very few geeky bones in this guy's body, and he even asked me "So would you force any unsuspecting boyfriend into wearing a costume to Comicon with you?" (My answer was of course not- one man's cosplay is another man's form of cruel and unusual punishment). The bell went *DINGDINGDING*, and just as he got up he shot back in my direction, "And to answer your earlier question I work in finance." "Oh! I'm sorry" I said, and thankfully he laughed. I scribbled 'Daniel-Does-Not-Do-Comicon' down.

The Bad:

The arrogant guy- as he slid across the sofa, I joked at how they could have picked better seating arrangements for a bunch of strangers meeting each other for the first time, wanting to make the best impression. I wasn't expecting the single raised eyebrow I got, paired with a very chilly, "Actually, I thought I did that rather well." I laughed as if he were joking, but he just continued to stare ever so slightly down his nose at me and repeated, " Wouldn't you say I did that well?" I rolled my eyes and said something like 'fine then'. We ended up talking about food for the rest of the few minutes left (at least food is something I can talk about), with him mentioning one of these fancy places that has no menu and me struggling to remember the name of one of my favourite Malaysian restaurants as he boredly stared at me as I struggled. It was a rather long four minutes. At least my friends all had a similar experience. To be honest, he was acting like actually being there made him sick. You know what the craziest thing is? The friend he came with happened to be Game Of Thrones Paddy.

When one guy asked me if I'd been speed dating before and I said no, he countered with, "You have such a lovely, innocent face for someone who lies so well!" I covered my discomfort by a show of obvious mock-offence.

The Mad:

That'd be me, then. Aside from mentioning I owned my own chain mail, lost two years of my life to World of Warcraft and have been to London Comicon dressed in Stark Trek uniform, I also occasionally asked "What would you rather be: a pineapple or a papaya?" Curiously everyone I asked answered pineapple, and everyone said it was because of their hair. I also asked "Star Wars or Star Trek?" on one occasion.

The Interesting:

One guy's English wasn't particularly polished, and it turned out that he came from a small village in Italy and had moved to London to seek his fortune as an artist (or rather seek a career- few ever make a fortune in art). Not quite believing him I asked him questions like what was his favourite medium, period of style and favourite artists, and to my astonishment he was totally genuine. I didn't put him down as a 'Yes' or a 'Friend', but all the same when I wished him well in the city at the end of the four minutes, I meant it wholeheartedly.

So would I do it again? Maybe. Not in a long while- it was more a novelty and a fun night out for me, and I certainly didn't expect to meet any knights in shining armour. They say speed dating is a numbers game, but I never was that great at probability in maths.

Anyway, there are several major flaws to speed dating, the major one in my opinion being the time limit. Sure it's handy if you get someone you don't get on with, but what about people like Game of Thrones guy? There were a few more like him, like a slightly shy-er guy who I found out when we had just seconds to go that he played jazz piano (interesting to me, being a qualified pianist), and another even shy-er guy who was just beginning to come out of his shell before he had to move on.

The second biggest flaw is more of a personal one: I'm a geek girl. I'm pretty niche. Even worse, by a lot of 'geek guy' standards I'm not 'geeky enough' (sod them, is what I say). Speed dating events in my age range are often for city professionals who are more into sports than sci-fi. So I can't really win. All I can do is do what I do best, and be myself as hard as I possibly can.

One question I really wanted to ask people but never got around to was, "What do you enjoy most about being single?" I could give a whole list of reasons why I love being single- which is probably why I only ticked the 'Friend' box on my score sheet for some of the guys, and no 'Yes'es for dating. Dating and boyfriends can wait- I'm too busy geeking out.

So. After the event you go home, and in the next couple of days enter in your ticks online to see if anyone has matched up with you. Did I get any friend matches afterwards? Well, I've just gotten around to checking and yes, I have two: one is the shy-er guy, and the other, most amusingly, is 'Daniel-Does-Not-Do-Comicon'. 'Game If Thrones Paddy' has yet to input his scores.

I did find 'Daniel-Does-Not-Do-Comicon' quite fun though, and thought we'd probably actually get on rather well despite the culture difference (or else it would have been rather silly for me to tick 'Friend' if I didn't mean it, wouldn't it?). In fact, halfway through writing this I got a pop-up email alert telling me that he's sent me a message. I haven't read it yet- it's way past my bedtime and my brain has already made as much social interaction as it can take for a few days. I'll take a look and maybe reply tomorrow. This could be entertaining...

Fearing For The General Public's Health/ How Not To Poison Someone

As some of my friends know, I went on a course yesterday to learn about food hygiene and take the Level 2 Food Safety and Hygiene exam (I won't know if I've passed for some weeks to come, but I'm pretty sure I did). This is so that, in the near-but-not-too-near future, I can sell officially (at least, it's a step- and it's going to be a while before I do). I wondered at first if I should do it since I'm entering the GBBO (see my previous post... I reiterate: Ohmygodwhathaveidoneaaaaargh), but I looked at the rules and I don't think it counts as a professional catering qualification. At least I don't think so- you don't get taught how to cook at all, only how not to poison people.

Now, a lot of this course was common sense, like not putting something warm in the fridge or freezer, not storing raw meat above cooked meat in the fridge in case it drips, not picking your nose and then go back to kneading the dough without washing your hands first... all that sort of stuff. There were also more specific things that you would have to be told or read up on to know, like clostridium botulinum bacteria (commonly found on grains like rice) can survive in their spores at water's boiling point and need to be superheated to over 122 degrees C (usually with steam and pressure- which is the process canned foods go through for this purpose) to kill them.

The toxins from clostridium botulinum are also actually used for botox- I knew this already, but then again I am a nerd.

However, regrettably, some people do not seem to posses common sense. A small handful of the people in my 'class' did not.

Bullet point time.

-The instructor asked us 'what does freezing do to bacteria?' One of the men behind me answered 'Ummm... minus twenty-two.'

- The instructor asked the class if anyone present was a first-aider. The guy behind me put his hand up and said 'yeah, yeah, I'm a first-aider.' 'Excellent, you have a certificate?' Asked the instructor. 'Oh, no... I have a first aid box,' he replied.

- Whenever the instructor asked a question in general, a couple of the guys, including these two, were always a few seconds away with their answers (ie, a few seconds after I or someone else had given the correct answer). When 'why do you have to decant food from a tin immediately?' was asked, the guy behind me answered 'because it'll go bad.' When the instructor asked for anyone else to elaborate, I answered 'the air will oxidise the metal and contaminate the food.' A few seconds after I had the first words out, the guy behind me was parroting 'yeah, air... oxidise... contaminate...'

- One guy's phone kept going off (in the stereotypical Nokia theme tune, too). This is a pet peeve of mine, and I really wanted to turn around and hiss at him how rude he was when the instructor was trying to speak to us and to turn his damned phone off, but of course I'm far too British and awkward for that...

-The guy behind me and his friend kept talking to each other whilst the instructor was talking. See above.

- The guy behind me also clicked his pen, tapped his pen, tapped his foot (in fact he had a whole body drum kit thing going on), and ate biscuits abnormally loudly. It was just a jammy dodger, but he made it sound like wet leather slapping on tiles in an echoing cavern dripping with bat guano. Okay, so this doesn't directly relate to someone not having common sense, but it really got my goat

- When asked why blue plasters are used in the kitchen, one guy replied 'So  you can see it and pick it out of the food.' No, my good sir. It's so you can see it and throw the contaminated food away, not serve it to your customers.

- When it was time to do the exam, one guy asked the instructor 'Can we ask you questions?' He was being serious.

You know what though- the thing that really worries me is that people like this pass these exams all the time, and set up food businesses all the time. I can't say I'm that surprised- I have, after all, worked as a silver service waitress part time during uni and I've seen some things go on behind the scenes- but it still makes me quite sad. And more than a little grossed out.

~Fin~

What I'd Rather Do on a Saturday Night: Cocktails and Stargazing

Saturday 11th August 2012- what a brilliant night.

This weekend I've been in Birmingham visiting friends, mainly Siu Yen (the one who gave me the selection of Japanese sweets in the entry 14th July 2012) for her early birthday celebrations. I came bearing gifts of funky makeup and these cakes I'd made:

(Luckily they survived the journey on the train with me).

We began the evening with a group of Siu Yen's friends and her boyfriend Cam at a nice restaurant, and later on progressed to a couple of cocktail bars, pretty much having the sort of laid-back letting-hair-down fun out in town that nice people in their twenties have in the city centre on a Saturday night.

At some point in the evening, somebody mentioned that there was supposed to be a meteor shower going on later. Me being a bit geeky and knowing about certain celestial events, I immediately knew which shower it was.

"The Perseids," I said.

"What?"

"Every year around this time there's a meteor shower that looks like the shooting stars are originating from the constellation Perseus, which is why they're called the Perseids."

There was a pause. I felt like I had to continue.

"I used follow an online celestial calender thing to track these astrological events but since it's been so cloudy for the last few meteor showers I've been too disheartened to follow the events properly."

Pause.

"There are also pretty good showers in November called the Leonids, and the Geminids in December are supposed to be the best ones', I added, helpfully.

"Alright... " Somebody said, "But it'd be too bright to see them in the city centre, wouldn't it? All the lights and everything..."

"I think if we went to Cannon Hill Park and got away from the roads it'd be okay- plus it's a relatively clear night for once, so I think it'd be worth it," I said.

Most weren't too bothered, but Cam and Siu Yen were quite excited about the idea, so after cocktails and when it hit 1am, we went back to Siu Yen's flat to get changed out of party dresses and into sensible star-gazing clothing (excluding Cam of course, who was not in a dress to begin with), grabbed a blanket, and went to a petrol station to get some picnic-like snacks.

On the way to the petrol station we passed Broad Street, Birmingham's (in)famous watering hole and clubbing scene for students and young people in general. An ambulance bluelighted its way past, and I bet Siu Yen and Cam that it was for an alcohol poisoning. Sure enough a bit further down the road, the ambulance had pulled up and the paramedics were frog-marching a very bedraggled-looking girl dressed up as a Grecian Goddess with vomit all down her front. I vaguely wondered how long it'd take her to be back in the bar and drinking again after this experience.

Broad Street was littered with short skirts, cleavage, bare chests and glitter, also featuring people on stilts, someone dressed up as Sonic the Hedgehog and another as Pikachu (the image of Sonic the Hedgehog miming spanking has ruined my childhood), and a girl carrying the biggest inflatable penis I've ever seen. Siu Yen commented on how young everyone looked- I noted that perhaps it wasn't that the crowd was getting younger: rather we were getting older.

I've never been to a club, and I've never been out boozing. Sure I go out for cocktails with friends every so often, but I've never once drunk myself sick (maybe because I can have enough fun without alcohol already and I have a pretty hardy liver thanks to my Russian-Polish blood, but that's just speculaton). I'd also rather be in an environment where I can hear other people talking, or at very least shouting. However I have a very broad sense of fun even as a geeky girl, which is why this evening was perfect- good food, funky colourful cocktails and stargazing. Once we had managed to break free of the Bedlam that is Broad Street on a Saturday night, we made our way down to Cannon Hill Park and sort of broke into it.

I said 'sort of' broke into- it's not really 'forbidden' per se to enter the park past opening hours, it's just that the gates to the main entrances and parking are closed. If you know where the park begins and ends, however, you can just go around and sidle your way between and past the bushes to get in- which is what we did.

Feeling ever so daring (and just a bit wary of disturbing and angering the odd passing badger), we picked a nice open spot not too far from the road but far enough from the street lights, spread out the blanket, located Perseus in the sky with the help of a star chart and my pre-existing knowledge of where Cassiopeia and Ursa Minor is in relation to everything (I know, I know...), lay down and gazed out into our galaxy.

We didn't exactly see a multitude of meteorites, and we only stayed out until the clouds finally and inevitably came to shroud the night sky from our view (it was about 2:30am by this time), but any shooting star we did catch was met with loud cheers and exclamations of 'WOW!' and 'Did you see that one??' We chatted about the stars and interesting Science-y things, and I silently reflected to myself, as I always do when I stargaze, how small we really are, and how strangely serene it feels to have everything put into perspective (and, in this instance, what a shame it was for all those students on Broad Street to surely be staring down a toilet later on in their evenings rather than up at the stars). Our excited chatter and laughter gradually died down to a thoughtful quiet, and we watched the stars twinkle and the eerie glow of a satellite lazily tracing its path up in orbit.

"Tash, do you believe in God?"

~Fin~