Difficult to get in the festive mood
PUBLISHED: 10:50 12 December 2007 | UPDATED: 21:16 26 October 2009
I CONFESS I am a bit of a humbug. I hate Christmas shopping; why can I never remember what everyone likes/wants/needs? And endless greetings from strangers of Happy Crimbo make me want to jam mince pies in my ears. Ok, I know tis the season to be jol
I CONFESS I am a bit of a humbug.
I hate Christmas shopping; why can I never remember what everyone likes/wants/needs?
And endless greetings from strangers of 'Happy Crimbo' make me want to jam mince pies in my ears.
Ok, I know 'tis the season to be jolly, but it's difficult to get in the Christmas mood when you're a student.
For instance, while writing this article I have FIVE tops on, and no I don't have a fetish for knitwear, it's because I'm freezing.
My housemates and I have made a pact not to turn the heating on until our lips are blue because heating the house is too expensive.
Instead, we clothe ourselves until we reach a point where bending our arms and legs is difficult.
Therefore, one pleasure my housemates and I enjoy to relieve ourselves of the cold is having a nice warm shower... in our mouldy bathroom.
Why is it that all student houses have mould? And why does it come back with vengeance even when you've thrown Asda's entire supply of bleach on it?
Growing in size enough to make you pledge your possessions to your housemates before you go into the bathroom should you never come out alive.
I think it's something to do with the fact that students are meant to put up and shut up with their living arrangements.
For instance, after 12 weeks of living in my student house my housemates have contacted the letting agents to complain about a variety of problems that weren't fixed over the summer.
After eight phone calls, two visits to the agency and an angry letter, our complaints were met with, 'Well, this is the first time we've heard of the problem but we'll get someone sent round'.
No one came. Until that is my 6ft tall, weightlifting, skin headed housemate Dave went round to the lettings agents and politely told them to sort our house out. Job done.
But why should it take so long? Perhaps because we are the disorderly students and the lettings agents are the long suffering residents of Welwyn Hatfield.
But, before you choke on your Christmas cake, I'm not wholly taking sides. A lot of students are messy and loud but not all of us. Some of us do actually spend most of our time inside tackling essays.
Granted, during my time at uni I have been guilty of committing some student antics:
- An impressive collection of traffic cones and other street sign paraphernalia. Check.
- A collection of small plastic garden ornaments 'borrowed' from others' gardens. Check.
- A mound of beer bottles, large enough to be seen from space, spilling out of our recycling box. This annoyed neighbours, resulting in us being visited by a 'loves the power of his job way too much' council official. Check.
However, residents give as good as they get. My neighbours recently had a massive party.
Long into the night we were subjected to the nails on chalkboard sound of Michael Buble on repeat (I now know every word of his album).
Then, the next day I saw a bleary eyed, slightly green neighbour, emptying a mound of bottles in the recycling that put ours to shame.
But, instead of getting straight on the phone to the council, my housemates and I took their bottles to the bottle bank as the recycling lorry hadn't come.
So, I guess what I'm saying is, scratch our backs and we'll scratch yours.
Let's leave the beef where it belongs during the season of goodwill, on the table next to the sprouts and covered in gravy.
Don't you just love Christmas? Hang on... did I just say that?
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