Day Thirty-One: Rather Tri – ing

At the beginning of the year, in what can only be described as a desperate bid to make friends,  Rosie, Alice and I decided to join the Badminton club. We thought it seemed like one of the easier sports, as a shuttlecock moves a lot slower than a ball.  We were still tragically terrible.  I spent the entire first session attempting to learn how to actually make contact with the racket and shuttlecock.  Since then, I wouldn’t say we have improved vastly, but we have stoically attended every social.  Last night was the Tri-Racket Ball:

Yesterday, I went to my first and last university ball.  We sat in tables of eight, which is just right as six is too few and tennis too many.  Nadal the tables were filled, but it was still a good turnout.  The food was really nice, with Rosie I federer chicken as she was struggling to eat it all.  The drinks were a bit expensive though, and this year I’ve had my fair sharapova-ty so I didn’t buy any.  Aftewards, we went to Tau; we had to murray from the venue to get there before the guest list closed.  In the end we wished we hadn’t gone as the music was making such a loud racket, and everyone was getting continually squashed against everyone else.  To start with, they shuttle the rooms apart from the upstairs bar so it took ages to get served.  Everyone was piled on top of each other, and it was too easy to get court up in the crowd going the wrong way.  I kept losing everyone which was really net fun, and somebody I vaguely knew told me I looked ‘better tonight’ which was a bit of a backhanded compliment.  In the end, we didn’t love it, but still managed a good dance.

I can’t remember if I’ve used this joke yet, but it’s so good that I’m okay with it appearing twice:

My dog Minton ate my favourite shuttlecock .

Bad Minton. 

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