Dear boy who lives upstairs,

Hello, nice to meet you. I am that girl who occasionally hits the underside of your floor with a mop, that girl who has called security on you on numerous occasions, that girl who wishes to duck tape your buzzer... you know, the one who you keep awake every single night with your lovely drum and bass playlist.

I am writing to congratulate you on the excellent job you did keeping me awake last night. I greatly enjoyed experiencing what an insomniac goes through, as before I came to the University I had no idea how they must feel. It appears that yesterday evening you may have fallen asleep watching a DVD (I was very impressed with the tolerance of your ears. They can obviously withstand an extremely high volume for several hours). Now, I'm not sure if you're aware, but many DVDs return to the menu screen automatically after being watched right the way through.

Please correct me if I'm wrong, but were you watching the Pink Panther movie last night? Yes? Do you know how I knew that? Because at 4:30am I was listening to the theme tune for about the eight thousand and seventy fifth time, what with the theme tune being the background music on the menu screen.

Again I must applaud you on your annoyance technique because yes, you guessed it, not only did this little ditty keep me awake pretty much all night, but it also woke me up at 7:30am. This is fifteen minutes before the time I was meant to be getting up for a compelling law lecture, which I subsequently missed due to fatigue. You also seemed to have slipped a few notes to the on-campus security officers because they failed to do anything about the matter on all three occasions that I called them throughout the early hours of the morning.

I would come up and discuss this matter with you but I can feel my eyes closing as I'm writing. I suppose the message I am trying to convey is this: if you don't shut up within the next hour or so I am officially making every attempt possible to round up the rugby team and tell them that you said they're gay, before pointing them in the direction of your apartment.

Yours Sincerely,

Brooke

Home is where the... evil cat... is...?

Things that you forget from home when moving to University in Lincoln:

- How loud you need your music to be able to actually hear it on the underground.

- How loud other people will undoubtedly play their music on the underground (it's best to keep an open mind - after all, a tinny, distorted version of jungle trance hits can't really be that bad... can it?)

- People are, in general, unfriendly, rude, impolite and just LOVE complaining.

- Reading over people's shoulders is a valid form of entertainment when travelling on public transport.

- No one will ever be willing to help you with your suitcase, no matter how big it is and how many stairs you need to climb.

- The South IS just as cold as the North, despite convincing yourself daily that you're so bloody freezing because you're marginally nearer to the North Pole.

- Silence does exist.

- Double bed = heaven.

- Yes, you've been away for almost two months, but you will still be expected to make your bed, tidy up and put your plates in the dishwasher.

- Dishwasher = heaven.

- How evil your mother's cat is. Don't let the cute and cuddly appearance fool you, or the fact that her name is 'Choccie'... she is an evil, mouse-killing, ankle-scratching beast.

- Your friends are hilarious, always have been, and always will be.

- You don't have to put coins into a normal washing machine (or at least I would highly recommend that you don't.)

- Some albums were just made for long journeys.

- Your Grandparents will still tell you that you haven't lost weight and your hair is a mess despite how much they claim to have missed you.

- Some things never change.