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Good day

Good day on Saturday. Unpromising start: somewhat restless night thanks to (still) ill girlfriend, late night drinking and an early (9:00) start, but things picked up. The reason for our grotesquely early start was that Jo was to look at a house. Her contract on her current flat in London runs out in less than a fortnight, and she didn't have anywhere in Oxford to move to. Fortunately, the house we cased was rather nice (as Jo describes in her own, inimitably excitable (well, inimitable by me, anyway) style in her journal), and we hoofed it straight to the estate agent to fill out interminable forms for the privilege of handing over an enormous amount of money to persuade them to actually let her live there. This all seems to have gone through without a hitch.

On our way back we stopped off in Debenham's and found the rather marvelous coat that Jeremy had tipped me off about, suggesting that it might look good enough on me for Jo to buy it for me, and so it proved. It's a long, sleek, black number with an astonishing red satin lining. Originally we agreed that Jo and I would go halves on it, with her half being part of her Christmas present to me. She has since decided that it should be a present for our Arbitrary Anniversary, a loosely defined day signifying the point at which we realised that we were going out, to all intents and purposes. She claims that I look good enough in it for it to count as my present to her as well, but I can clearly not accept that without being forced into suicide for insurmountable smugness, so I shall have to think of an equivalent token of my affection nearer the time...

On the way back from the shops, me resplendent in the aforementioned coat, we came across a recycling box in the front garden of a house containing a number of brand-new looking books. We looked at them, shrugged, and took one each ('Down Under' by Bill Bryson for Jo, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' by J. K. Rowling for me). I decided to take the rest of the haul to the second-hand bookshop next-door, whose proprietor I know. He cleared up the mystery by revealing that someone had been into his shop earlier and tried to sell them to him, but he'd told them to sod off because they were clearly very new, and hence probably nicked. He didn't seem to mind taking them from us though, and insisted on giving us a pound for each book. In retrospect I wish we'd taken the to the Oxfam bookshop really, but at the time it just seemed reasonable to give them to the shop next door. Not sure about the karma of our actions, there...

Finally, as we passed the Phoenix cinema, I remembered that Geneva had said something about there being free tickets available for something, and as luck would have it, the box office was just opening. I wandered in and bagged two tickets for 'Battle Royale' with no problems at all. Sorted.

Saw Jo off on the Sunday afternoon. Strange to think that next time I see her, she'll be living in Oxford. I have to admit that I quite like the idea, really...

Anastasia came round in the evening, a Ukrainian girl upon whom Archie has something of a crush. She's skinny, pretty, and occasionally has difficulties understanding English, so they seem perfectly matched. Archie demonstrating unusual levels of confidence. I have always said that he'd be a ladykiller if he had more confidence. We shall see. They watched the first episode of 'Tenth Kingdom' (top fantasy series), then Archie walked her home, his fears that she may get cold on the way back showing a degree of concern for her well-being that she seemed to find simultaneously touching and slightly unnerving.

Current Site: The Vanguard News Network. Really fucked-up white supremacist site. It's nasty, be warned, but their movies reviews are beyond parody. A reminder of just how scary some people's beliefs can be...

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oxfordhacker
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