So, inquiring minds want to know? Well, even if they don't, they're going to get told.

Friday, having nothing better to do, I trekked the three-hour walk out to see a hungover A and his equally befuddled housemates. I arrived at one, figuring that was the bare minimum required to allow them to be up and dressed and mildly coherent. I may have been a little ambitious, but they were at least up and dressed. I watched them clean for a little bit. The grill looked very worse for wear. A packed his overnight bag, and I took it and scabbed a lift back to college with one of his housemates. He drove all the way with the window down and his hand stretched out. A good few times I thought a passing car was going to take it clean off. He is a little addled, but in that cute, cuddly way.

Those used to reading mystery novels may have noticed that subtle clue I dropped there (taps side of nose with a knowing wink). Yes, A needed an overnight bag. As a combination belated birthday present and post-finishing relaxation, I had made arrangements for us to spend Friday night at the Hyatt, undeniably the most luxurious hotel in Canberra (don't anyone dare deny it, you'll make me cry, so there). And get your minds out of the gutter. What sort of girl do you think I am? (Pause) That sort?? Get out of my room!

Anyway, the hotel was exquisite. Gorgeous bathroom. You know chicks always love bathrooms, right? Especially ones they don't have to clean. We played with all the facilities like the immature university students we are. I especially liked the phone beside the toilet. The whole hotel has a nostalgic theme, specifically 1920s. The staff are dressed accordingly, and it's such a wonderful atmosphere. We revelled, we luxuriated, we did other suitably over-the-top adjectival verbs. We even got the newspaper all to ourselves without having to fight anyone for the best bits. Now this, my friends, is luxury.

I recommend everyone treat themselves. Do it for me. Then write to me, and tell me about it.