The View from the Afternoon Issue 2

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help you find and It’s the spr Chr me ead istm c ca o Chr as! istm fas Give tud as c ent hee you hou r an rse se, dB tea lf th ah ch y Hum e gi o u ho bug ft o w s in to m fa equ goo ake al n egg dh um nog ous ber , s. e.

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CHRISTMAS ISSUE

letter from the editor

Comfy? Warm? If you’re in halls or Starbucks most likely, if you’re already in those pillars of student society known as student houses possibly not, and to that we say bah humbug! Now winter has definitely slapped us across the wind swept face we’ve got ideas on how to keep the spirits up and the mind distracted from deadlines as we all mastered procrastination after we got our first assignment. We’re here to help make sure you’re set up for next year in somewhere that makes you feel much more pleasant than Jim Carrey in 3D and warmer than Jack Frost. It’s Christmas time-give yourself the gift of a good home next year.

by Alexa ndra Rocheste r

contents 3 Santa’s Other Surprise 4 How to Not Get Frostbite in Your Own House

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6 Location or Dislocation: Breaking Down Oxford’s Areas 8 Blanche Slagharen Discusses Christmas Survival Strategies 10 Christmas Cheer in Halls 12 Day in the Life of a Department Store Santa

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14 Bah Humbug: an AntiChristmas Article 15 ‘Tis The Season to Be Broke and Still Have to Buy Presents: Secret Santa Etiquette 17 Tea Party on a Flagpole: a Love Letter to Vitamin Water 18 Winter Warmer Cocktails

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santa’s secret surprise

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o the festive season is fast approaching, and whilst you are preoccupied with all the generic stuff like presents, decorations, the tree, the parties, and maybe even who you’ll be able to wrestle under the mistletoe (fingers crossed you can fight off those beer goggles and not accidently pull the minger you’ve been avoiding all semester) I’m gonna take a wild, crazy guess that you haven’t considered the other little ‘presents’ Santa wannabees will leave in your bedroom this Xmas? Those drunken Christmas parties and merry nights out can have a heavy price to pay and if you’re not careful you may well end up with something that wasn’t on your Christmas list in the morning.

The Shopping Trolley:,: A National Symbol of Academia and Shame As the holidays roll in, so do those rattling wheels, the shopping trolley hailing from its hometown of Tesco is a common occurrence on any given morning in halls. It has served many purposes over the months and been a dependable, reliable friend to us all: first and foremost it carries our shopping the most important and basic need a student has, and has even carried our friends when they have been unable to walk from an alcoholrelated complaint. We have a lot to owe this little metal, rolling contraption, so it’s up to you to do your bit this Christmas and bring a trolley home.

Who knows the Christmas trolley may even bring you a little present of it’s own perhaps in the form of a drunken random person and or tramp. Revel in the fact that you have given something back to your community this holiday and feel no guilt when telling the Salvation Army to stick their donations where the sun don’t shine.

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by Fionn Maclaughlan

Why Decorations Should Stay on Trees!

The Classic,: The TraffIc Cone Ah the beloved traffic cone, the source of many a drunken giggle and leading star in numerous alcohol-related stories. Now this little lovely is very likely to appear in your room/corridor or in my case kitchen at any time in the year but at Christmas its little plastic shell gets just that little bit colder, prompting extremely drunk/stupid individuals to bring it back to halls. Now one thing that should really be avoided is the discovery of this little gem by one of Oxford’s boys in blue, as the ‘my friend left it here’ story doesn’t really cut it at university. But beware these bad boys aren’t exactly easy on the eye and so waking up groggy and confused with one in your bed (now don’t go pretending you haven’t been there) can be quite an unpleasant experience.

Christmas also accounts for a number of new, magical and previously unseen Christmassy paraphernalia like decorations, trees, and lights that suddenly pop up all around the place. Tempting as it may be at the time, turns out it’s actually not that cool waking up wrapped in Christmas lights or indeed tinsel. Whilst there is the small, insignificant factor of cutting off blood circulation and perhaps even loss of limbs, it cannot be escaped that you will just look like a complete twat and continue to be named as such for the remainder of the year.

So now you have been pre-warned over the dangers of Christmas drunkenness, perhaps this year the only things Santa will leave in your room are actual presents and none of the above, unless you want those things in your room of course, which you are fully entitled to you freak! But anyway party hard, drink harder and have a very memorable Christmas.

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e t i b t s o r f t e g t o n o t how e s u o h n w o r u in yo

by Alexan dra Roche ster

House shopping can be very exciting. After the twelfth one, maybe not so much. And when you’ve seen your third pool of vomit on the bathroom floor, you start questioning whether you want to be associated with students anymore. But fear not. You will find your own domestic heaven. But what at first seems like the most perfect house can actually turn out to have the most basic of problems. So to avoid mould and wearing 4 coats in December whilst watching TV, follow these simple rules:

Aim for a terraced house - warmth from both sides, it’s like getting 2 extra lots of central heating for free.

Check the attic for any insulation, like the heat escaping through your head, your paid-for heat will escape into the heavens if there is none.

Double glazed windows will become an obsession of yours, if your house doesn’t have them; look forward to chills, condensation and the whistling of the wind keeping you awake.

If your bathroom’s sticking out from the back of the house with no other rooms, you will have a shower surrounded by the steam coming off you because the air is so cold around you. And not the good kind of steam that’s good for your pores, the kind that makes you colder. A de-humidifier or window will also stop that steam collecting to create mould.

Dibs the south facing room-sunlight (well…that faint light we see behind the clouds) all day, more heat.

Make sure you have a nice kitchen.

It may get covered in dirty dishes, but it’s the most communal room in the house and it needs to be appetising in some way.

gents

ladies

Try for two bathrooms. If you’re a boys and girls house-allocate definite bathrooms, and then girlsavoid the boys one at all costs.

If your house gets no sunlight, and you don’t ever turn your heating on because you’re cheap it’ll be more prone to damp and mould. Warm yourself and your walls.

Student houses are targets for burglars, try and get individual locks

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on the doors for those weekends you’re gone, or after you’ve just bought a new TV and the box is sitting out front in recycling.

You are entitled to see the gas and boiler certificates, DO ASK to make sure you’re not moving into a ticking bomb…literally.

Go on a rainy day if possible-easier to see if there are any leaks, prone spots of damp, bad windows etc.

Are there smoke alarms, fire exits, blankets? Twelve hundred fire drills in halls after someone burns a piece of toast are one thing, but you need to know what to actually do if it happens, and where to find them.

And finally, take a check list of the things you dreamed of having in your house. You don’t have to settle and you don’t have to rush into it. See many with open eyes, and get something that you’ll be happy to come home to after a miserable day of double lectures.

s“ top that steam!

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Location or You and your buddies need to choose your house, and fast! (Apparently… although we promise the world will not end if you haven’t signed a contract before mid-November). So, the inevitable question arises, ‘where are you going to be living next year?’ Your answer becomes an unfortunate pivotal piece of information for those trying to assess your social standing in the university social hierarchy. Below are a few examples of popular student areas, and what they may say about you.

‘Div’ Road There is nothing divine about hauling your ass up Divinity Road for a 9am class, but well worth it for the socialites among

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disLocation

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by Ele anor HatchRober tson

you, who probably don’t attend lectures anyway. House parties and a roll down the hill to the Cowley Road are what makes this place way popular.

Wheatley/ and Harcourt We wouldn’t wish these geographically stunted areas on anyone, but occasionally needs must.

Summer Town A happy, chirpy, floral wonderland. Students here seem to fly along on their bicycles, with their baskets full of classical literature and bunches of flowers, whilst butterflies flutter along beside them. This is a lovely little spot, enough to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside even in the depths of winter.

Cowley Road A melting pot of characters. To live on Cowley is to be undefined as anything other than you. Residents range from the rah to the hippy, the academic to the bum. Here you don’t know exactly who your neighbors will be. At best you meet some wonderful new characters, at worst a total lifestyle clash and some uncomfortable meetings.

Second Year Halls It is unclear where they are, who is there, or more to the point, why would they be there in the first place? Get a house. It is way more fun, and a valuable life experience.

Jericho With an array of bars and restaurants on your doorstop, this part of Oxford is suave and ‘the place’ for young professional living. Affordable to the higher end of the student population, it’s cool, it’s trendy, it almost makes you want to vomit all over the over-sized wine glasses that seem to reside in all buildings in this area.

Headington Houses are bigger, more affordable and generally in better nick. However, you had better like your housemates. Or you may find yourself pissed off and stranded at a distance from the general social hub.

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Blanche slagharen discusses Festive greetins to y’all, it’s Blanche here, ready to spread some yuletide good will and dish a few home spun words of Southern wisdom. Now for many of y’all thinking about Christmas it will summon up all manner of sugar plummed hopes and dreams, wishes and smiles. For the rest of us though, the sugar plums long gave Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen explosive diarrhoea culminating in Blitzen pebble dashing the remaining days of Christmas in sugary regret.

The idea of Christmas, even if you don’t celebrate Jesus’ birthday is such a lovely warm concept, just thinking about it near melts the icicles ‘round my root cellar.

But the problem with Christmas like the problem with most things in life is people and you’ll have to pardon my French here, because as sure as deers shit in an avalanche, people will fuck it up. And it pains me to say this to kittens so young and hopeful as your good selves, but family are the very worst offenders!

I’m not sure, even in my maturing years why a blood tie should be a bad behaviour invite, it just seems to me that the pressures of having a Coca Cola text book perfect Christmas means that people just implode under the strain. Take my old friend Mrs Woodstein, she travelled 900 miles on a Greyhound bus sitting on wrapped piles of hope and ribbon to be near her nearest and dearest on Christmas day. 12 hours later I had a telegram from her summoning up the unfolding horror of sibling stress and gun running:

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“To Mrs Blanche Slagharen from Mrs Jocelyn Woodstein, subject: My brother is crazier than yours.

Randy Dwain gone on drunken rampage STOP Soiled friend’s house and ran away STOP Mexican cab driver rang to ask if Momma would pay the $100 fare STOP Need to hide gun collection before turkey ready and Randy back STOP Hiding them at neighbours STOP Randy broke in and soiled Mr Hefflesteinburger’s truck STOP Wish it would stop STOP” Sleigh bells up Prancer’s behind! I swear people time their painful meltdowns just for Christmas. Why, my brother Linus, when he’s not shouting at me in public throughways thoroughly enjoys saving up years’ worth of anger and regret just for the Christmas lunch table. Jesus would weep to know how many family members ruin his birthday year on year out for so many of us.

And so my yuletide young’uns, I’ve plundered my deer hide bag of memories and dug up St Nicholas, to offer y’all a few words of advice to survive the season of good will.

Don’t turn to drugs or alcohol to get through the experience – it just means that y’all be badly equipped to deal with the verbal onslaught if there is a meltdown. I mean, sure I love a good eggnog to season my nerves, but stop before you feel lubricated enough to shout back.

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christmas survival strategies Don’t spend money you don’t have trying to make the Don’t make Christmas all about you, just relax and let others enjoy you being there. Or better still, if you know day work. Presents are never about how much money you spend, but rather on how much you know your gift the festive days will be like attending Dunkirk in a blow up rubber boat with ‘spreken ze English?’ daubed on the will please them. A good book or a compilation CD of side – take a year off and spend it with people who truly music you think they will like will give more pleasure want to see you. That way, when you do see your family, in the long run. You might also do what Willard Jnr. both before or just after Christmas, the stress is gone and did one Christmas when he was a student and broke.

Willard and his flat mates swapped skills and his lovely it’s just good family sharing time. college chum, Kenny, who is very artistic, did me the One of my best Christmasses most wonderful water colour was spent with Willard Jnr., my Mary Ellen returned from clubpainting of my favourite singer, bing to the family home at 4am neighbour Mrs Brabbenach Judy Garland. Willard said Christmas morning, unwrapped and Rodriguez the pool boy. in exchange, he was able to all the gifts, judged them in the We sung Ding Dong Merrily on give Kenny some wood for his dark by throwing them at the High as Rodriguez went wrist momma, which he had whitwall and then blessed the tree deep stuffing my free range tled down to resemble a Native with projectile vomit.

Bronze, and Mrs Brabbinach American Totem Pole. Some and I roasted his hazelnuts over times the best presents are the the wood burner. Of course, Mrs Brabbinach had one too most thoughtful and free ones – so check with your many of Willard’s eggnogs and near choked on a roast friends to see what hidden hobbies and skills you can nut. My stars, thank the good Lord Rodriguez was there all do swaps with. to squeeze her from behind so hard that when that darn nut shot out of her windpipe, it ricocheted off my Macy’s By all means quaff a few disco biscuits to party with windup nativity and hit me square in the eye. I swelled up your friends but just don’t do what Willard Jnr.’s like a possum in a pool due to allergies; I haven’t had nuts friend Mary Ellen did. She returned from clubbing near my face since Reagan was in the Oval Office. to the family home at 4am Christmas morning, unwrapped all the gifts, judged them in the dark by So whatever you do and however you celebrate Christthrowing them at the wall and then blessed the tree mas, just relax, plan ahead and don’t panic, that way the with projectile vomit. Her come down and the family’s only thing y’all be exclaiming as y’all drive out of sight is, disgust banned her from the house until Easter.

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

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Get some christm onn

by Fi hlan g u a l Mac ess and& J s Steer

It’s that time of year again, we’ve all noticed it, the blackness now starts it descent between the wee hours of 4 and 5pm, causing the accidental vomit-inducing collide into that crusty tramp you see every day on your way back from lectures. Scarves, hats and duffle coats have made their triumphant return to the streets, and for the oddballs of you who have been counting down from July; I can confirm you’re greatest desire, yes it’s true, Christmas is almost upon us.

Now as the usual coma inducing songs are set on repeat, some of us may be sighing with annoyance whilst others are up, ready and willing to embrace this holiday thinking ‘Woop! Yeah! Bring on the Christmas cheer!’ So whether you want to begin crazy decorations now or in a couple of weeks (like the normal people) here are a few ideas on how to make halls a more festive and homely place this celebratory season: • A simple and fun way to begin would be with a few little snowflakes; this is mainly for the future Blue Peter presenters among us. But never the less a bit of paper and scissors (adult supervision is required!) can go a long way, so go wild! A bit of blue tack will enable you to stick them on your windows, bringing a smile to passersby.

• A can of spray snow will also give a festive look to your kitchen windows, but beware of the ever vigilant hall wardens, so enjoy it while you can.

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mas cheer in halls.

• Another idea, that can help bonding within the flat, is Secret Santa.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this ingenious concept I’ll explain. All flat mates put their names into a hat and then pull out the name of the person they must buy a pressie for, the trick being that no-one knows who has who. There is also a price limit decided by everyone e.g. a tenner. Now this normally leads to one of two reactions ‘OMFG what the hell do I buy them?’ or ‘Haha that will be something off the sale rack and I’ll spend the rest on booze’. But it generally means Christmas is cheaper and everyone ends up feeling loved, or not ...depending on who gets the stingy bastard.

• Now if you can’t afford a tree (which is more than likely) the classic Christmas branch is a bit of a laugh amongst friends. One piece of tinsel will probably be all you need and you will feel just that little bit more festive instantly.

• Lastly, if you are willing to spend that little bit extra (although be sure not to scrimp on that booze kitty!) You can always shop-buy some decorations. Reasonably priced tinsel, Santa hats and other figurines of that fat little jolly man amid other Christmas shizz have been readily available from supermarkets since about mid-October.

Whether you adore or abhor this holiday, the fact is that there is NO getting away from it, so all I can do is recommend you live by that famous saying...‘if you can’t beat em , join em!’

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a day in the life of ...

07:15

A trip to the fireplace finds me my breakfast – a hearty meal of mince pies and sherry. Some have frowned upon my choice of early morning liquor but I just say its all about creating the festive spirit!

07:30 One more glass of sherry 08:00

08:15

A steady stream of children graces my lap. One child is brought by a particularly rude mother so when the child asks for a pony and a cat, I tell her she will certainly receive both this year.

An overexcited boy urinates on my knee whilst asking for a Transformer toy. I’m not entirely sure it was an accident, his eyes seemed to glint as he did it, but nevertheless I take that as my cue for an early lunch.

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12:00

Leave for work in my “sleigh”. Well, sure enough it’s not a real sleigh but a red Nissan Micra has the same effect.

08:45

11:30

A child asks me if I am friends with Jesus. It is a pet hate of mine when people bring up religion at Christmas. I tell her he’s not real, and that Christmas is about me - Father Christmas – the clue is the name. Its not called Merry Jeesmas.

08:30

One more glass of sherry. Only a small one mind, after the beard incident the next few months were a blur of cake and sherry. Someone must have broken in whilst I was peacefully sleeping and ransacked my house. Nothing was taken mind, but my santa suit was completely soiled from the belt down…

First child arrives. I always get a tingle when the first child of the day sits on my lap. She wants a Mermaid Barbie and a Princess outfit.

10:30

Half way through sculpting my facial hair I think of the beard catastrophe of ’05, a very sad year.

After a few small glasses of sherry and during an enthusiastic bout of “dashing through the snow”, I twirled marginally too close to one of my Christmas candles, unwittingly setting my pride and joy alight.

Well it was completely ruined. The only sensible thing to do seemed to be cancelling Christmas, although the store insisted I just wear a fake beard. I told them where they could stick their Christmas tree.

A swig of sherry from my Rudolph hip flask and I’m settled in my chair ready to go. No appropriately heighted elves this year…there were complaints it was un-PC, they’ve been replaced with surly teenage girls. I joke with them about sitting on my lap, a joke many have loved time and time again, but shortly afterwards I’m informed by the store manager that I am not to address them again.

09:30

I begin what is perhaps the most important part of my daily ritual – beard maintenance. Beard maintenance is a full time job and not everyone can do it. I have never agreed with the polyester white beards you see adorned on so many others in my profession. I have not and will not ever stoop to this level of trickery.

Arrive at work. I’ve asked time and time again for a private dressing room, but always the head honchos insist that it would be unfeasible to section off a Christmas themed room for 11 months of the year. Instead I change in front of the employees in the communal staffroom. Sometimes they shout insults… ”I can see your jingle bells”, “You’re a fat pedo”, but I know that its just because their parents never loved them enough to take them to meet Santa. And I duly tell them so.

09:15

Awake to the sounds of sleigh bells ringing from my alarm clock. Just one of the many gifts I have received from delighted children over the years.

10:00

07:00

a department store santa

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17:30

Christmas presents with the tree on top of me. Some helpful security guards lift me up and carry me to my car. I shall thank them all tomorrow.

It seems to have taken me a long time to get home.

Slow and steady wins the race though, and the beeping of horns joined together into a beautiful cacophony.

18:00

18:15

I log onto match.com, my guilty pleasure. My profile has attracted a lot of views but no winks and no females have contacted me. Perhaps my ‘looking for’ is too specific, but I don’t think its unreasonable to look for a plump, snowy haired, good cook who loves Christmas and doesn’t mind being involved in a few extra curricular beard tugging activities?

15:45

14:30

Some children have never understood beard courtesy. One has to expect a small amount of tugging, that is an undisputed aspect of the job, but when child tugs with vicious strength I secretly pinch him on the leg. The resulting crying has him quickly escorted from my lap so another, more grateful child can take his place. I steady my nerves with a small sip of sherry.

The surly female elf catches me taking another sip of sherry and then talks to the manager. I press on.

Early to bed, early to rise, that’s my motto. A small nightcap sends me on my merry way, and I only manage the first page of “The Night Before Christmas” before my eyes start to close and the faces of all the children I thrilled today dance before my eyes. As I doze off a phrase slips out, so natural I don’t even know I’m doing it – “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night”.

21:00

13:00

A turkey sandwich and two gingerbread men later, I’m in my emergency Father Christmas suit (I always keep two spares, I’m a veteran in anticipating the bodily fluids of small children) and the other is packed away for dry cleaning.

16:30

The manager decides that I should go home early.

It seems they think I have indulged too much in the Christmas spirit. I stand up to give him what for but somehow end up lying down in the pile of fake

As I tuck into a delicious Christmas roast with all the trimmings (a large evening meal is vital in keeping the classic Father Christmas shape) I think about what first sparked my love for Christmas.

Completely white-haired from an early age I had a natural affinity with the figure of Father Christmas, and set my sights on emulating his rosy cheeks and impressive stature. Others at school used to tease me for turning up with my mother’s blusher adorning my cheeks, but I felt safe in the knowledge they would be getting coal in their stockings. They never openly said they had of course, but I know that they did.

19:30

“L had a natural affinity with the f igure of father christmas”

I take out “plump”. That should hook a few more fish, and I can always feed her up later.

an

Weym h a n an

s

by Su

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Bah humbug!

I don’t buy this whole Christmas joy malarkey. Can you honestly in your heart of hearts, tell me you genuinely feel happy, as in you enjoy, and feel a great sense of well being purely because it’s Christmas? I mean honestly, it really won’t be any different to last year, or the year before for that matter. Throughout your life it will feel ever more like the most perpetually boring, repetitive of all the national holidays, so you may as well admit that you dislike it now.

It all starts with the cards. Your mum will show you the annual family newsletter, with photos, from your sickeningly wholesome relatives. She will point out how nice it is that your cousin plays grade 11 oboe, and how your other cousin has just returned home from doing work with AIDS orphans in the Sudan. This has of course, touchingly, just changed their whole outlook on life. Big wow! Inside you’re thinking you would play a musical instrument to that level too…if you’d been hit by the ugly stick.

Anyway, your housemate has already showed you how to play Wonderwall on the acoustic, so you know you have the potential to be musically apt if you wanted to. As for working with orphans, you are charitable; you gave your old pair of Uggs to Help the Aged only a week ago!

So what are the politics of card sending anyway, surely we’re too young just yet? But no, some random friend decides to give you one, morally obliging

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by Ele anor HatchRober tso and Al exandr n a Roche ster

you to return the gesture, much to your annoyance.

What is the point? Now that I’ve wished you “Merry Christmas” in a folded piece of card you are guaranteed a good time? That greeting won’t come in useful when the turkey’s burnt and your dad has drunk all the eggnog just in time for your sister to throw a tantrum about not getting the gift she wanted. It could be worse however; you could have opted into a Secret Santa. In theory this is economically sound for your bank balance, in practice you are allocated the weirdest possible member of your group, whose main interests consist of dragons and kayaking. What the fuck?!

Then there are the parties. If you get long, blonde hair flicked in your face by one more Slutty Miss Santa you will break their face. So you drink, you smoke; you are approached by someone who barely passes as normal looking, who appears to be wielding some mistletoe. There’s nowhere to hide. “Fuck it” you say…which quickly turns into “absolute error”: definitely not a moment for that family newsletter.

No one has ever been excited about Christmas shopping no matter how much they like Christmas. This is because it is everything bad about shopping: buying for someone other than yourself, and buying

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surrounded by ten other people all wanting the same item as you and thinking they are in a bigger rush.

And then you have to get a gift for the Goddess of gift buying, the one who is so sorted there is nothing she will ever need. This is of course, the Mothership. You succumb: you buy smellies. Again.

pass out from lack of water and low blood sugar levels.

What benevolent God would create a holiday of this hellish magnitude? Your atheism is confirmed by the end of the day.

Dad + tie + socks = sorted, standard. Next. Sullen siblings get that rap CD they wanted, downloaded off the Internet and in a blank case. Touching, truly.

My advice is to get in your room and don’t come out till the New Year.

You barely survive a few near death experiences in Debenhams. There’s no way you can bear to enter Marks and Spencer’s. You eventually fear that you will

Thank goodness you’re going home to see out the rest of the festivities.

There may be the odd decent film listed in the only Radio Times you get in the year. You might actually get given something you really want this year. Who knows? But lets face it, you probably won’t.

tis the season to be broke and still have to buy presents sibling/ pet, that just doesn’t understand the new you. But my favourite part, and let’s face it, what Jesus, Joseph and Mary, it’s that Christmas is really about, are the time of year again. The Coca Cola presents. adverts a-coming, Tesco is convincing us to buy our weight in Now in order to receive, it is genQuality Street and your super or- erally deemed appropriate to give ganised friend back home is al- stuff too. And that’s where the ready sending out Facebook invi- trouble starts. Whether you are a tations to a New Years Eve party first year or a final year student that no one really wants to be at. there are three things you can count on: That’s right, it’s Christmas.

One way around this daunting process is to get your group of hall friends/ flatmates/ course buddies to meet up in the bar together and do a secret Santa. You know how it works, all the names in a hat, you each choose one and agree on a price limit. Then you run off and tell just one other person who you have to buy for and by the end of the day everybody knows who everyone else has anyway.

1) You will have to buy at least one present for someone at Uni. Whether it’s your new bezzie friend in your halls/flat or your third year course mate you’ve shared lectures with since fresher’s.

2) You will have no money to buy presents.

3) You will have no idea what the hell to get.

Yes I know, secret Santa’s are lame and something you did when you were 12, but it does eliminate the emotional worries (oh believe me, it can get emotional) of stressing about what the hell to get all your friends as opposed to just one. This little fixture takes away some financial worries too, which is especially convenient because if you’ve got to this time of year and aren’t waving off your overdraft into oblivion

Whitford a m m E y b

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. The fridge actually has food in it and the central heating is not a once weekly treat. Although I would like to point out that the Brookes Christmas break is about four times as long as any one else’s, and the novelty of home comforts will wear off sometime during early January, leaving you with almost a whole month to cohabit with that annoying parent/

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then you have been doing something Santa was a brilliant idea in that Dewrong. cember of 2007, £10 was our limit. I picked James. After thinking long and Secret Santa has three important hard about what to buy him I settled rules: for an extended, special features edi1) Find out whom everyone else has tion of his favourite DVD (which cost and what they plan to buy them. £13.99 by the way) and felt smug at As mentioned, this is a process my kindness. We had our flat Christmas dinner, drank too much and got that will happen naturally. ready for the last ‘SPAM’ of the term.

2) Know your receiver.

On returning we exchanged our gifts.

- if you drew out the hat someone who Tiffany got a necklace, Helen received is almost a stranger to you, look out a voucher for a fancy beauty place in for any obvious hobbies/interests/ town, Catherine a Fleetwood Mac alweird personality traits that can be bum, Laura got make up and James manipulated into suitable gift ideas. got his DVD.

where worthwhile - HMV, Topshop/ man, the Beauty Rooms in town (for girls and some boys), Boots, Game, restaurants in town, Waterstones - all acceptable places.

For example if you end up with Richard in room D who never comes out because COD* is just “too damn important duuuuude”, then maybe a nice cushion to help ease any back pain from such intense gaming could be an idea.

- DVDs/ CDs – Do not buy them what you want to watch/listen too, tempting as this may be if you share a wall with a guy who listens to rap at four in the morning or a girl who constantly has re-runs of ‘The Hills’ on a loop. Try to tap into their interests and buy something you can both live with.

Me? Oh I got 2 packs of Haribo sweets and a pencil with my name on it. I am in the third year now and have new friends.

To avoid making any of your nearest and dearest feel as discarded as I did all those years ago use these ideas and 3) Expect to be disappointed by what only these ideas (all can be manipuyou receive, may our Lord make us lated to fit any budget/gender/pereternally ungrateful. sonality): When I was in my first year I had five - Vouchers - Tarred with the brush of other housemates. We loved each othlazy and lame vouchers are underrater. Secret ed. As long as they are from some-

- Alcohol - don’t buy them their standard pre-drink bev, splash out a bit, if they drink crappy Tesco value Vodka, buy them Smirnoff, if its red wine which could double as table vinegar, get them a nice bottle of Rioja. You get the idea. This may backfire if they already drink Dom Perignon.

- Amazon - just in general. From make up to Mussolini (books) there will be something on Amazon to suit anyone, it’s just a case of having a browse.

No one should be expecting diamonds or the best present in the whole entire world so don’t make it more of a deal than it is. Just remember one last thing; it is not the thought that counts, no one wants a shit gift even if you did spend a whole two days thinking about it. Happy Christmas! * This stands for Call of Duty. Yes I am down with the lingo, I am a COD widow.

the view from the afternoon

CHRISTMAS ISSUE

so I’m currently obsessing over

this new “Vitamin Water” that I stumbled across accidently one morning in the University canteen. Sitting solitary wondering how I was going to clear my hangover before my lecture started I thought my only choice was between the caffeine boost of a large coffee or the hydration of a bottle of water. However, on proceeding to the counter something bright, colourful and rainbow-like caught my attention. I was somewhat bewildered by this new liquid I had never encountered before. Now, I am relatively easily seduced by anything pink but as an anaemic vegetarian, something that promises me some sort of B12 vitamin intake is an instant win. On another hand, it costs a mere £1.25 (a few pence more than tea) ...what did I have to lose?

My Vitamin Water virginity was burst with “Revive” – a fruit punch flavoured bottle of potassium and B vitamins which asks you to “try swimming the Atlantic after swimming the Atlantic” - I can’t verify whether or not I would have been able to do this but what I can say is that my headache certainly seemed to disappear, abruptly as well. Yes, I know – placebo effect blah blah blah but surely a placebo effect to wake me up and get me vigorously taking notes for an hour is better than the potential of stained teeth, strong breath and crashing halfway through my lecture after downing a double espresso?

Aye?

by Kate Byard

on top of a fLagpole

Try having a tea party

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But, of course with most “great new things” comes the hype, the hysteria and eventually some sort of “it causes cancer”/”they abuse third world countries” accusation. In the case of Vitamin Water, the internet is going wild over the calorie intake in each bottle. Ahem...95 per 500ml. Not particularly something to rush to the gym over especially if you are bearing in mind that your average cup of tea contains 60 and everyday foods such as bananas contain 100+. I am aware that diet fizzy drinks can contain as little as 1.5 per can but then they contain aspartame and in my humble opinion I would much prefer to consume 95 calories with the vitamins I need rather than a drink with few calories and the same chemical that is used in paint stripper. And anyway, those clever little brain boxes at Glacuea offices have come up with a lighter alternative- “Vitamin10”, same price, same vitamins, just with 10 calories per 100ml as oppose to 19; therefore cutting in half the calories of a regular bottle of Vitamin Water.

Oh, and the other counter argument? The one where they (whoever “they” are) claim that the vitamins from Vitamin Water are ... err ‘flushed’ out because they average person already gets their RDA of vitamins a day?...Simple answer: Students don’t.

But, enough of this technical health talk; what is most important is that when I drink Vitamin Water it tends to feel Okay, so maybe my headache loomed because I needed like a Saturday night at Rush, a Wednesday night at Fuzzys hydration and yes, water can cure this buuuut you don’t and a Monday night at The Bridge all in my mouth at once... get a) the added multi vitamins that help clear headaches, without the awful hangover. And you can’t argue with that. hangovers, tiredness, poor skin (all these problems students suffer with) or b) the general feel good factor which tends to Note: Vitamin Water are not paying me for this complete go a miss when the “dominoes buy one get one free” devil adoration, but I am willing to accept copious amounts of free products. comes alluring.

the view from the afternoon

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CHRISTMAS ISSUE

Winter Warmer cocktails Bored of sitting in the pub, drinking yet another double vodka energy?

Wishing you could add some festive cheer to your weekly alcohol units?

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Feel like ushering in some Christmas joy into your life but just don’t know how?

Then never fear, as The View from the Afternoon has yet again come to your rescue to teach you how to drink away your bah-humbugs this winter…

The Snowball Perhaps the only one you’ll see this Christmas if global warming is to be believed. Less messy than the real thing, although just as likely to make you go arse over tit.

Ingredients: 2oz Advocaat ½oz Fresh Lime Juice Top up - Lemonade Mix all ingredients in a cocktail shaker and pour over crushed ice.

by S We usanna yma h n

4 Eggnog

Made famous by fat Americans in optically offensive Christmas jumpers.

Bring some Yank holiday spirit into your life.

Ingredients: (Serves 4-6) 2 Pints Whole Milk 6 Eggs 50g Caster Sugar 1 Vanilla Pod 6oz Brandy Cocoa Powder

Place the milk, eggs, sugar and vanilla pod in a saucepan and heat gently until the mixture thickens. Divide the brandy between the glasses and pour the eggnog over.

Dust with cocoa powder and serve.

the view from the afternoon

CHRISTMAS ISSUE

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Mulled Wine Finally, the old family favourite. If you’ve got too much time on your hands, make from scratch and practise your Christmas smug face in the mirror. If you like to spend more time drinking at the party than making concoctions for it, buy ready made from the supermarket and work on your mistletoe eyes instead.

Double Chocolate Martini Because it wouldn’t be Christmas unless you consumed yourself sick on questionable chocolates.

Ingredients: 2.5oz Vodka 2.5oz Baileys 2.5oz White Crème de cacao

Shake ingredients together and strain into a tall glass over cubed ice.

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Ingredients: (serves 6) 1 Bottle Red Wine 1 Orange, halved 2oz Demerara Sugar 1 Dried Bay Leaf 2oz Sloe or Damson Gin 1 Cinnamon Stick, grated Put the wine in a saucepan with the orange, sugar, bay leaf and spices.

Heat gently until the sugar has dissolved.

Take off the heat and stir in the gin before straining into glasses.

Tangerine Not just a mouldy piece of fruit filling the toe of your stocking.

Although alcoholic enough to make you feel polar bear warm, shamelessly count it as one of your five-a-day.

Ingredients: 2.5oz Triple Sec 2.5oz Amaretto Splash of Grenadine Top up - Orange Juice

Shake ingredients together and strain into a tall glass over cubed ice.

The View From The Afternoon would like to state they take no responsibility for your actions after consuming these drinks, and refuse to be blamed for you pulling that minger from the stockroom at your work Christmas do/single handedly re-enacting the Bethlehem birth scene for family and friends/getting your jingle bells out of your Ann Summers elf outfit on the dance floor of Fuzzy’s.

the view from the afternoon