As I think I've whined on about in the past, it's a little weird being back in Manchester. Not because of the city, and its ludicrous overwhelming size and that, but because of the change to group dynamics, and other such gay sounding things.
You see, in the last 18 months the group has inevitably lost a few members. What's odd though, is that it's the girls who have disappeared off to other parts of the country (and the world, come to think of it), whilst it's all the guys that have stayed in Manchester.
Take nights out as an example. A night out used to be great here, everybody out having a good time, drinking, chatting and dancing amongst ourselves. This year however, it's different. The focus of each night is solely on meeting, and chatting up, women.
Not something Mark's used to. Or indeed very good at.
Take Thursday night for example. Mark was chatting to the girl he quite fancies. I won't go into the details of the conversation, suffice to say that it concluded with me calling her a man. Oh yes.
She then proceeded to pour her drink over me, then get security to throw me out the club, remove my trousers, and get passers by to throw flour and eggs at me whilst filming the whole thing for a Greek television special on the inept social skills of Manchester students that look a bit like Screech from Saved By The Bell.
Not really. The evening gave me the impression though that it's probably something I need to work on.
So I'm trying to look at this year as an opportunity. I randomly saw a picture of Tim Henman yesterday, and figured that he's really good at Tennis, probably due in some part to the fact that he plays every day.
I imagine there's plenty more room for accidentally insulting pretty girls before I improve. Perhaps I'll inadvertently call one a prostitute, or accuse her of being a Al-qaeda terrorist or something.