the blonde list

blonder, blondest.

2004-09-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

living in a house of women at university was a very cool thing, albeit a sometimes stressful experience. there was the inevitable queue for the bathroom (and whatever you do DON'T ask me about waiting for amy to get ready to go out), there were shoes covering every surface of every room, and underwear covering every radiator (sometimes to certain people's immense embarrasment). however, there was always wine somewhere in our house, always makeup to borrow, always hair to be straightened. but honestly, we were not that shallow, at least not all the time.

once the blonde list had been firmly established on a blue cardboard file-divider (and pinned to the door of the kitchen, pride of place: the student equivalent of a mantelpiece), the act of blonde frequently became a competition. who was blondest? this is still hotly contested among the former occupants of london road. was it amy, who persistently put her bank card into the atm upside down? was it lammie, who suggested we watch itv2 when in fact we only had terrestrial channels? was it esther, who once said that everything has two dimensions?

brianne, our faithful scribe, recorded many of these moments for posterity. thus she herself is absent from the list, despite negligible blonde tendencies. she has a sensible nature. we did not corrupt her. alison is also exempt, despite failing to clean amy's dogcrap shoes after four months...and then five...and then six. so, the race of blonde pits amy against esther and lammie.

you might think amy and esther were the blondest, since they both protested against the cruelty of using plasticine animals in television ads. you might think lammie was the blondest, accidentally buying size 18-20 knickers (she is a size 8-10) and making adrian a coffee without boiling the kettle.

in truth, amy chalked up more items on the list than either lammie or esther, but tomorrow comes a story you'll want to hear. fake break-ins, booby traps made of chairs and easels, irons left switched on (only they weren't) and panicked calls to landlords on holiday: tune in later for lammie and amy's easter break, london road style.

break-in miracles, blonde style.

2004-09-06T13:35:00.000-07:00

a blonde addendum to the previous post: on The Night Of The First Party, brianne managed to lock her keys into her room (there may have been a little wine consumed, or was it the lethal sixtysix cocktails named in honour of our dwelling place?), and despite a yearning to come to her rescue and appear as a handsome knight in shining armour, andy the valiant succeeded only in kicking a hole in brianne's door. the way remained shut.

however, adrian and chris, having sampled a few of these lethal cocktails themselves, decided to steal andy's thunder (and placate a now furious brianne, who seemed to have locked the hamster in her room as well as her keys and her usual sweet temper). thus it was that the intrepid twosome duked out the front door, armed only with their wits and a spoon, and proceeded to break into the front window of our house on a main road, and come to brianne's rescue. legend has it that brianne also ate a bacon sandwich that night, despite being a strict vegetarian, and andy was to be seen sulking quietly in a corner, drinking ale and muttering to himself.

it was a miracle that this was our only break-in.

one day, a little while ago...

2004-09-06T13:02:00.000-07:00

one day, we were sitting discussing what we'd do if anyone was to break into our house. the road we lived on was notorious for thefts and unsavoury characters and unpleasant behaviour (mostly directed toward students). being out alone after dark was not the wisest of plans for a girl, or even a boy. miss lammas might recall the day adrian had his bottom caressed by a random chick while cycling through the subway adjacent to our dearest london road. however. on this particular day, which was not the day amy spent hours cooking a meal for herself, only to drop it all over the floor as soon as she'd put her food on the plate, we speculated about the what if's. this was also not that day that esther walked outside in her slippers on her way to the video store, nor was it the day lammie asked what the differences between decaffienated and regular coffee were. this was another day entirely, cold, rainy, no doubt fuelled by coffee (the regular kind, lammie) or red wine.

we lived in a tall house, five bedrooms with a rather groovy basement sitting room (groovy until the sofa fell apart and the landlord never quite got round to replacing it). the basement had one window, a none too secure (but fortunately double-glazed) relic from perhaps 1973. none of us was sure. above this basement window lay my room, with an entirely rickety window, and above this again sat amy's room. lots of pink, lots of sparkle, hair all over the floor. picture the scene: five girls in amy's room (those on the floor cushioned by the soft blanket of hair) drinking red wine or coffee, discussing what they might do of something - in fact someone - were to go bump in the night.

personally, i was most worried, since my room would be first port of call and my door didn't lock, for crying out loud. next up brianne's room, which connected to mine through some frail double doors: stay tuned, because these double doors play a starring role in a later blonde adventure. the walls outside our rooms were plastered by some kind of idiot (or medieval torturer), and frequently trails of blood were to be found where unsuspecting housemates and guests had skinned a limb on the sharp wall detail. perhaps an anti-theft device, perhaps the cheapest decorating known to man. however, i digress. naturally, talk soon turned to escape routes, and it is here our full attention must turn to amy. when asked what she might do if marauders ever got in to out house, amy offered a faultless escape plan: she would leg it out the window, quick as a flash. there was but one flaw to her faultless plan, however, which the other girls wasted no time in pointing out to her: amy's room was on the second floor, above a substantial drop with nothing beneath her window but air.

this may also have been the same day that lammie composed her ten minute text, only to delete it without sending it. it might well have been the day esther set fire to the oven gloves, and the day might have ended with amy laughing her candle out.

good, good times.

the first day, and then some.

2004-08-31T03:21:00.000-07:00

on the first day of blonde, amy mistook the clock on the microwave for a timer. esther commented that christmas baubles would make really good christmas decorations. lammie grilled a meal in a plastic container, resulting in a large inedible plastic aubergine. alison claimed the lord of the rings films were crap. it was a good day.

on the second day of blonde, amy plugged the phone lead in the wrong way and spent much, much time complaining that neither phone nor internet connection worked. esther trapped the lead from the kettle in the toastie maker as she was making a sandwich, and caused quite an explosion which blew every fuse in the kitchen. lammie tried to get in the driver's seat of a four door car in order to get in the back seat. alison walked through dogcrap in silk shoes belonging to amy. it was an even better day.

on the third day, amy, esther and brianne were working hard in their rooms in london road. brianne was listening to annie lennox's "no more i love you's" on repeat; esther persistently asked her to turn the volume down, and kept on speed writing her fifth essay of the morning (due in 4 weeks time). amy was at this time chatting on msn and attempting to write an essay due for the next day. all was well, the sun shone, and suddenly there was a commotion outside. what could the matter be, the intrepid blondes wondered? some kind of disturbance on london road: it would have to be investigated. so it was that the three looked out brianne's front window, and saw to their amazement a large shiny machine.

immediately, the three rushed outside to look, for this was no ordinary machine. since esther was the tallest, she could see further up the machine than either amy or lammie. "there are branches stuck to the top!" she cried, "for it is huge!!". cars had to be cleared out of the way. disruption was caused, and havoc wreaked. so the girls were distracted from their work, and offered to make tea for the drivers of these large machines, as any kind girl would. the girls learned these machines had come all the way from brazil. "but why are they in stoke?" amy and brianne pondered. just as the kettle (complete with new lead) had boiled, cars were moved out of the way and the machines began to move off. amy, esther and brianne all went outside the front door to have a last look at the big shiny machines. they may even have waved to the drivers. however, when a dull crash could be heard behind them, and the sky clouded over, the three realised to their horror that they were locked out of their house on london road, without keys or mobiles or shoes.

as it started to rain, the full reality of the situation began to dawn on them, and behold! they sat on the pavement and cried with laughter. brianne, the most practical of the three, began to brainstorm ways of getting back into the house. esther had work to do! brianne had annie lennox to turn up loud! amy was still connected to the internet! it was a puzzle. until they decided to try the back door, which of course was locked. it was at this point that esther remembered she had left her window open. "hurrah!" cried the girls, for they were getting wet. the only problem was found in the height of the window: too high to reach without a ladder, so what were the girls to do?

in the end, they borrowed a chair from a kind neighbour (presumably one who didn't call them a waste of space later in the year), and sent amy (being the lightest and smallest) to climb in the window. after a short struggle, amy made it to the windowledge amidst cries of "come on, amy, you can make it!" from brianne, and "don't step on my desk!! mind my computer! the desk is only three bits of wood held together with staples! just throw yourself on the bed!" from yours truly. so in amy went, head first, legs akimbo, to land who-knows-how-gracefully on esther's bed; she unlocked the back door and the girls were back in the house, fresh from another adventure in the life of blonde-on road. it was an amazingly blonde day.

in the beginning, there was blonde.

2004-08-30T06:14:00.000-07:00

when i started university, i moved a few hundred miles away (to a different country, incidentally) to a place in the middle of nowhere, and i knew noone. well, almost noone. being from northern ireland means you always know someone who knows someone in the place you end up in, and, true to form, my best friend jill knew a girl known only as amy. amy was a northerner, pure of heart and collector of young men named andy (just like jill in both respects, actually). thus on my first morning in my new shoebox room, with mint green walls all within reaching distance if you stood in the middle of it, behold! there came a gentle knock on the door, upon hearing which i opened the door causing fright to all who saw me. for lo, the shockwaves gorilla had visited me in the night, and my hair stood entirely on end for all to see. most people since have covered their eyes and wept (or been overcome with laughter), for it was not pretty. however, amy, being pure in heart and brave, despite her slight stature, was undeterred by the shocked and slightly embarrassed person standing in the doorway. she uttered the immortal words "will you go to church with me?" and a friendship was born, one that has stood the tests of time, and sharing houses, and living next door, and exams, and troubles, and blondeness.

at thi point in my story, dearest readers, i should like to point out that my inner blonde streak emerged only after i met amy. i will leave you to draw your own conclusions about this. amy and i are still the greatest of friends (at least we were before she saw this), and it was through amy i met some other wonderful, wonderful people who have helped to shape the crazed maniac i became since those zany university days. amy also introduced me to chris, without whom i'd never have heard nigel kennedy play jimi hendrix (yes it IS as weird as it sounds), or know so much about this. crazy. anyway, i digress. amy introduced me to some great people, many of whom turned out to be kindred spirits (go read anne of green gables now, if you haven't already). lammie will always make you smile, even if you do have to tidy up after her, and has turned out surprisingly wise despite a penchant for blonde. brianne is always ready to dance, no matter what the circumstances, and although she scared the crap out of me the first time i met her, is now one of my dearest friends, despite the blonde. our fifth housemate alison was not really blonde at all (some kind of natural immunity, i believe) and so appears here only twice (at least so far). however, i recall her laughing at us all many times, so she is with us throughout in spirit.

in short, this little blog commemorates the blonde memories we all share, and perhaps a few new ones, since once that blonde switch is flipped, there ain't no stopping it, baby. meanwhile, read these stories in the knowledge that we all graduated university with upper second class honours, although none of us have as yet managed to find careers. someday, someday.

enjoy.