I know this is late, but I've only just got home.

So yesterday we got up at 8.30am, somehow. I've found it easier getting up, in the past. We could only force down a glass of orange juice each before we left. Perhaps it's a trivial thing, but I didn't find it so, and neither did he, I don't think. Sure, he felt underwhelmed, but then everyone does at that stage. It's natural, I told him. Of course you feel anit-climactic. We got the nine thirty train down from Woking, and it was wierd to be back once more. I'd not considered, when I left, that I'd be back, but here I was. My presence was tangible and undeniable fact.

Few of my old friends were there, prefering to stay in bed a little, or just ignoring the event entirely for fear of what they might find. So we got what we came for, and we were both pleased, justifiably very pleased indeed, with what we had been given. So we went up town and bought six 'Juicy necs' for a quid fifty and shared them, content. we went back and some of my old friends were actually there, ones who lived in the area, some. It was very pleasant to see these people again. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed them all, but.

We hung around a little more, and finally some of my better friends did rock up, late but confident. Ging was especially pleased with how it had all gone. He really deserves everything he got. I know how damn hard he worked for it. So to celebrate we went to the one banned pub, the Wyk. Every day walking past for lunch, marchiong eagerly onward for out grey, anonymous meals, right past the damn extractor fan of the pub's ever-busy kitchen. Onions. Onions. Damn, did I have onions today. Steak and onion sandwich, in fact, but the onions were sweetest. I wrote my name on the foam of my Guinness, with the fountain pen I did it all with, and, yes, your name really does go right to the bottom.

We left reasonably early, because he wanted to see his family off, which was entirely reasonable. I'd've only've got drunker. As it was, I had a hangover that evening. He bought The Princess Bride, and we left.

So we got back, saw off his familiy, and settled down to watch The Lord of the Rings on DVD on his 45 inch plasma screen with stragically placed speakers. Oh my. Half-way through he had to get up to talk to his girlfriend, who'd also been worried about the day (I think) but who'd done very well indeed. We were getting on very well indeed, as in times of old: we were both relaxed and content with ourselves and the world in general. LotR was, of course, fantastic, but this fifth time around, (first out of the cinema) I noticed that Ian McKellen tends to gabble occasionally, and some of the superimpositions are poor, but. We then ordered a curry and drank some more beers whilst sitting down to watch The Princess Bride, which it transpired I'd seen half and hour of before. But. This was a very, very, pleasant evening. All was well with all. Realistically, it could not have been any better. At all. I've seen my friends, and with the day's events, I can apply to any university I like. Right now, Life is Good.