Saturday, January 31
Great Hall, King's College
Phone call from my Mum: My Dad's just got back from Dubai, and he's got me the silver necklace I asked for. Fucking A. No idea what it looks like, but hopefully he's followed my instructions as to what I asked for. We'll see.
As for right now, I'm sitting in the Great Hall at King's, awaiting the arrival of Desmond Tutu to give his talk on (let me find my ticket) "The Truth and Reconciliation Commission". And apologies to Mr Tutu, if he's reading this, since his full title is Archbishop Desmond Tutu. I imagine that is is immensely proud that the King's College Student Union nightclub is named after him. I've had far too many late nights and drunken shenanigans at Tutu's that I care to remember. In fact there's many that I can't actually remember.
Speaking of which, what I hate most about being drunk is how I get introduced to people, then meet them later in the week. They know my name, and who I am, but I don't remember ever meeting them. *hangs head in shame*