The three witches of Canterbury
Having described my first experiences of house-sharing at uni in the post below, as well as in a previous QOTW, I had one year of lovely, relaxed, sane housemates the following year, then insane, OCD Bavarian Estella for a neighbour in Switzerland, then Xenia, the best and maddest roommate ever in Pervland (by the time she moved back to Greece she could quote Eddie Izzard verbatim and had a voracious appetite for South Park episodes, having never seen it), then I came back to Canterbury for one last year, and ended up living four doors away from the house I'd lived in with the five freaks in my first year.

While the boys mostly kept themselves to themselves, the girls were another matter. To start with, there was Stupid Neapolitan Bint who I have mentioned before. A shit-stirring, alcoholic, cat-obsessed, backstabbing tart whose favourite pastimes were getting drunk at 1 in the afternoon, going to Ann Summers to buy vibrators and insisting we all saw them, screeching her way in from the Works (anyone who has lived in a student town, or especially Canterbury, knows the kind of people that go to Pop Ya Cherry night, and why anyone with half a brain would hate living with one of them, let alone four) where she had done the fake lesbian thing with her mates all night, at 3am, banging on all the doors in the house and yelling "PENIS!" outside each of them. She annoyed me the most by bitching about me on Facebook and a couple of other student sites (usually for some imagined slight, like she accused me of breaking her phone when she'd dropped it in a glass of rum and coke (WHEN I WAS DRUNK LOL!!) and it had lost all her numbers. It was not, in fact, the clean water that I'd used to clean the circuits, that had buggered it, but the alcohol). In spite of this, she still used to expect me to let her see my French seminar work and wake her up to go to translation class on a Thursday.

However the thing that made me seriously consider moving out (and start tearing off those little "housemate wanted" slips that materialise in student towns when people realise they're missing a housemate or that they're living with mental cases), was the way her and the other two girls ganged up on me, pretty much constantly. Mr Maladicta and I met properly in freshers' week, and started dating pretty much immediately. So far so good, thinks I; he spends a couple of nights at mine, and from then on we pretty much live at his, with me going home to get clean clothes and study and swap books around, and sleeping at his 99% of the time. Girl Housemates did not like this; sure, I'd have a cup of tea with them and catch up with them, but they didn't like me having friends outside the house, or going out with Mr Maladicta when I could be having a "house night out". Bearing in mind that our tastes in music were poles apart (they favoured R&B, house, rap and happy hardcore, whereas I'll listen to anything but and used to have to blare Judas Priest at full volume to drown out Fiddy when I was home), I wasn't really up to getting blind drunk (they believed this was the only way to truly enjoy a night out; get absolutely paralytic at home and then stagger to the club to get more drunk) and spending the night fending off the pervy old men in Baa Bars. So, I used to politely decline, saying I wasn't feeling up to it, or had work to do, or it wasn't my thing, and they never really took no for an answer, and would pester me every ten minutes right up until they left.

*knock knock*
Me: What?
SNB/whoever: We're going to the Works in an hour, are you coming?
Me: Nope. Got 1000 words to write in Italian about renewable energy by 10am tomorrow.
SNB: Boooooooooo! Boring! Come to the Works with us!! You've got just enough time to get ready!!
Me: No, I can't - this counts for 30% of my final grade, and if you think I'm pissing that up the wall to spend a few hours in a fleapit, you can fuck right off.
SNB: Still think you're boring.

(repeat ad nauseam until ten minutes before the taxi arrived)

The three girls had this insane idea in their heads that we should be The Single House, and as I was so insanely selfish as to enjoy spending time with Mr Maladicta and to want to carry on spending time with him, I was killing their buzz, or something, and they would regularly sit me down and tell me to dump him for some imagined slight "He took ten seconds too long to answer your text today, you should finish with him!", "He doesn't like us, you should dump him..." and if they had planned a "house dinner" or other house event (anything from another club night to poker), without giving me a lot of notice and then getting stroppy when I already had plans:

Witch #2: MALADICTA! What are you doing Sunday?
Me: Well... it's Mr Maladicta's nan's birthday, so we're going over to Whitstable to see her.
Witch 3#: Oh COME ON! We're all going, don't be so boring!
Me: This has been planned for ages, I've already said I'm going, I've promised him I'll be there, so I'm not backing out. Sorry.

After a few times like this, they took to having a dig every time they organised something "and of course you're invited Maladicta, if you have space in your diary, that is." Of course, I inevitably wouldn't, and spent less and less time there over the course of the months that followed just to get away from the grief I would get for having friends outside the house. I do think if they hadn't forced it so much and let me come and go as I pleased, they would have been OK to live with.

This meant, though, that they concentrated all their grief into the brief time windows when I was home. I'd come home from Mr Maladicta's, lock my door behind me, and would only have to so much as turn on my (quiet) laptop and cough and the first thing I'd find when I logged into Facebook was a message from Witch #3 saying this and never anything more:

"Are you actually home? ;)"

Perhaps I'm just a total misanthrope, but this used to rub me up the wrong way something terrible: she wanted to know if I was around, but wasn't arsed enough to leave her PC and knock, and find out instantaneously if I was home. As it was, earphones in, travel kettle boiling for tea, and studying in the tranquility I made (by blocking them all out) that kept me sane. Mr Maladicta didn't believe me at first, till he realised it was very much an ongoing problem and that they really were driving me insane. This meant he spent even less time than before at my place (he also didn't like my bed, which was too short and too narrow for him, plus sponge mattresses are never nice) and wound them up even more "Why does [Mr Maladicta] never come and visit you here? Why do you always go to his?" I literally used to have to sneak ninja-like (silently, making sure no one was about at all) out of the house if I was going anywhere with friends... and even then if someone had seen me go I'd get a text (usually from Witch #3, who was probably the chief pain in the arse) saying "You rushed off today. Where were you going? When will you be back?". Gah.

EDIT: The other thing they did that convinced me they were insane was try to persuade me to finish with Mr Maladicta and go out with Creepy Dave instead, saying he was "better for you".

It got to the stage that, if they did have plans to do something and I'd feigned ignorance, I would switch off my phone, hide offline on MSN and take the laptop under the duvet just to get some peace and quiet to actually study as everything I said or did in their eyes was wrong and not how I should be acting in my final year at all (excuse me for wanting to do well and have a healthy relationship, which tends to mean spending time with the one you love). They all finished their finals before me, and spent the weeks that followed while I was trying to cram the names of Italian Camorra bosses into my head, running back and forth under my window and screeching that they were going to "get" each other with water pistols and winding me up even more.

SNB still pesters me on Facebook, as does Witch #3, but beyond "fine thanks" I don't really have anything to say to them. At first, I didn't think I knew enough about them to dislike them, but the constant nagging me to finish with someone I was happy with for their own selfish ideal really makes me angry.
( Maladicta, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 20:24, 11 replies)

*Click*
They sound like a pain in the arse. And yes, I live in canterbury and I know about the works and pop ya cherry night, and the myriad of other shit nights they have....
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 20:31, closed)

I miss Canterbury.
I live over in Ashford now and it is nowhere near as pretty or as fun :(.

I'm proud to say, though, that I've never been to the Works; I just know from its clientele that it isn't my bag at all. Beercart Arms FTW :D
( Maladicta, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 21:23, closed)

Beercart is the best
On metal nights anyway. It's either there, Hobgoblin, Bell and crown or Coffee and corks for me :) I've only ever realy been to the works or chicagos when I've been dragged there by people. Not my kind of music, annoying people a lot of the time and I don't realy "get" the entire pulling at clubs thing. I'd rather go somewhere with a decent jukebox to be honest
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 21:38, closed)

I'm in Canterbury too
I'm not a fan of the Hobgoblin, got treated shoddily by the barstaff last time I was in there. Bell and Crown, Cherry Tree (awesome jukebox) and Coffee and Corks are firm faves though.

As for 'Chill' as it now known, The Works/Bizz/Baa Bars or studio41 I would rather chew my own fingers off than go back.
( Anthropos Was making beer on, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 1:13, closed)

Ahh, the Hob. How I miss it.
The strange combination of old men and goths. The shots with rude names. The awesome jukebox.

I don't think Studio 41 is as bad as the others, but I've only ever been to G-A-Y (Mr Maladicta got spanked on the arse by a guy with a long bendy glowstick and thought he'd pulled) and all I can remember beyond that is coming home with all my clothes soaked from the foam party. Foam parties are ... weird.

EDIT: Ooo, I forgot about Alberry's! One of the guys I work with is a drum 'n' bass DJ who does sets there some Tuesdays. Check him out if you're into that kind of thing.
( Maladicta, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 19:27, closed)

Canterbury
Ahhh, the works/baa bars/the biz.. I remember being worried about not getting in because I wasn't wearing smart shoes - only to discover every other person in a tracksuit inside :/
(comrade^, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 22:49, closed)

Baa Bars:
where class fears to tread.
( Maladicta, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 19:28, closed)

*waves* to the other Canterbury Alumni
Jeez, The Works... Is that dump still there?
(Richy_T hundreds if not thousands of dollars, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 3:31, closed)

*waves back*
Where did you go then? UKC? Christ Church? KIAD? There are many of us here from all over :)

Yep, the Works is still there, and still as shite as ever (though so is the Venue and that's gone horribly downhill; I used to have to be tipsy to want to go, now I'd have to be in an alcohol-induced coma).

*is going to Canterbury next Saturday and is irrationally excited about it*
( Maladicta, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 19:30, closed)

Well, twelve years ago, I had an idea....
and I took two pictures. I never brought my idea to fruition. Inspired by tales of Canterbury, I dug those pictures out and finally brought the idea to life.

Turns out it's a bit shit. Sorry.



In epilepivision...


(Richy_T hundreds if not thousands of dollars, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 4:13, closed)

I think my eyes broke.
I always wanted to do a time-lapse one of the sun setting on a really clear day: this is the view that sold the place to me :D
( Maladicta, Fri 27 Feb 2009, 19:39, closed)