The Masson House Rules

I don't think in any of my posts I've described what life is like in Masson House, so here goes: life in Masson House is rubbish and it's mostly my fault. Mostly. It isn't my fault that every floorboard in the building is warped. But it is my fault that I've found myself knowing less than ten people's names after almost a month. Don't be ill in Fresher's Week, kids. Especially not during the compulsory "bonding with your house" bit. Otherwise, you'll emerge virus free to discover everybody knows everybody else, and will look at you as though you are a strange smell, which, if you're me, you probably are. I still haven't really got the hang of laundry.

I mention all this because the Masson House Dinner Party starts in around 20 minutes, and I am terrified. If I die, which in all probability I will, this will be the last post in the Blog, as it will be if I become paralysed for life after everyone holds my mouth open and pours alcohol down it. My strategy as it currently stands is to run towards the, ooh, 3 people who I know and not leave them at any cost.

That's the thing, see. I'm incredably antisocial in the house, far more so than outside it (and, if you've met me outside it, you'll understand that's taking antisocialbility to quite staggering new heights), and I can't stop. I have Massonphobia: I run away from the girl next door, avoid every male who isn't from Luxembourg (and one who is), and haven't been in the pantry for two weeks out of fear I might see someone. I don't actualy know why this is, although I suspect hearing about the wild exploits of everyone in the corridor at 3:30am through three pillowsworth of muffling might have something to do with it. I'm not my biggest fan.

So tonight could go either way. I could spend it hunched, glaring, and not saying anything, or I could go into constant gabbling mode, which given my gabbling skills since starting Uni would probably be even worse. I might also die. It isn't fun. Currently I'm favouring the first of the two, if only because my clothes at the moment haven't dried from the laundry three days ago, so I resemble a hideous fungus beast, or an Old Crone in an exceptionaly low-budget movie. But we'll see. Wish me luck, in the virtual world.