The Saga of Monday

Ok, have been nobly resisting the temptation to play with computer for 20 minutes, but here I am in History and Philosophy of Psychology and the Charming Dutchman is gone, replaced for 6 whole lectures by my very boring tutor. Am heartbroken. I loved that Dutch Guy and his lemon.

5 points to the girl in the stripy jumper for distracting Dullman for 10 minutes as he struggled with the microphone.

So: new developments: the guy who looks like Clark Kent has had a haircut, and looks good. (what with the glasses and the shoulder length ‘raven hair’ he was beginning to look oddly like a post-Hogwarts Harry Potter is one of those ‘oblivious-to-his-own-gorgeousness’ ones.)
Also he seems to know the charismatic guy with the limp from last year’s tutorial. That guy’s clearly something of a hub, actually. He knew Dean too, who has conversely ket his hair grow out over the holidays and now looks rather like a $2 religious miniature, except that of course, those rarely portray Christ in glasses and Grey sweats, which is what Dean always wears. Why? Why doesn’t he cut his hair short, maybe spike it with gel, and shave everyday? If he went the whole hog and bought a couple of pairs of nice jeans and some of those loose button through shirts that are so flattering at the moment, he could have, as they say, some serious potential. Well, potential, I don’t know if I want to commit to “serious” potential.

The coolly dressed Punk Chick is sitting with the guy with the short mohawk and the bracelet with… was it Leah?… on it, also both from that tute. Sam being absent, rather wish was sitting with them, but really don’t know them well enough.

Wonder where Sam is, anyway?

Possibly ought to pay attention, but is v. boring and about Darwin. Feel that am sufficiently familiar with Darwin and his Beagle to be going on with. .

Am nobly resisting temptation to read all these fics which Julz sent me. Mustn’t capitulate, because tend to accidentally tell off obnoxious characters out loud. (Feel that suddenly saying “oh, you utter bastard” to some homophobic Death Eater or something in a quiet lecture theatre could be detrimental to social and academic career.)Also liable to blush, giggle, etc. Moreover, if people read over shoulder, could be mortifying. Not sure what hind of tics they are.

Really miss that lemon.

The whole lemon thing began when he was talking about perception. Eg: an apple: one perceives redness, roundness etc.. And he stopped and said “And have is where I fall down as a lecturer, because this morning, I couldn’t find an all I found was this lemon.”

From then on, he brought his lemon to every lecture. He used it to explain religion in terms of “if are falls in the woods and no-one is there, does it make a sound?” too.
“If I have my lemon here, and I want to make a margarita ‘then I turn any back on it, and to longer perceive it, is it still there? What if it’s gone why I turn around? My margarita will be ruined! So Berkeley used religion here; when I turn my back, God will watch any lemon for me and my drink will be fine. That how religion got worked into philosophy. This was the 18th century, so it made everyone feel a lot better.”

The guy was classic.

Slightly wormed. Everyone else in my lecture appears to be writing studiously [this came out on my handwriting recognition software as “inky fringy” oh dear.] suspect I might be missing something. (just tried listing again, but really is unutterably dull.)

Love that word: “unutterable”. Unutterably. Unutterablyunutterableunuttered- Jeah.

It being my Dad’s birthday today (49), he, Mum, my Grandmother (who is visiting us at the moment so as to see the doctor with greater convenience) and I all went to lunch in the Italian forum. Was quite nice, really, although I do rather think that my bruschetta’s better. Anyway, went to that great shop “The Merchant of Venice” which sells those excellent masks, afterwards. They’re so ridiculously expensive, though. I mean good grief. $200? It’s a flippng ornament. No-one holds proper masques these days. Like the ones in The Count of Monte Cristo or (*shame*) Georgette Heyer, where people don’t recognize each other. Who looks at the bit of face around people’s eyes? You hear the voice, see the posture and walk, see the hands, builds, skin colours, even. Even if all this was blurred out somehow (and then what’s the point of the mask?) you recognise people’s turns of phrase. I’m pretty sure I’d be spotted instantly. Who says unutterably these days (unutterableunutterableunutterable)? It’s all just hopeless.

I suppose this is the advantage of internet forums. Actual anonymity. But what’s the point? You never meet those people, and if you do, its ruined.

Mind you, I must admit that I’ve often secretly thought it would be pretty cool to run into a internet person by accident.I can see it now…
*fade to dreamscape*
Random Attractive Guy: *makes reference to internet forum which I used to frequent*

Me: Oh, have you been there? I used to hang out there a lot, I thought I was the only Sydney person on that site.

RAG: Oh my god, you’re flamechick?! I totally love you! Will you go out with me?

Me: [and here this fails] Are you telepathic?

RAG: What? No.

Me: Oh, sorry, then. Nothing doing. Nice to run into you though. Have a nice life!

Hmmm…. Possibly, on reflection, this is less than ideal.


History now. This is the one with the Russian lecturer. At least he’s still here. Also still rather uninteresting, though. Oh well. *is studious*.

Wait, retract that, French history fascinating, all out of Dumas The Three Musketeers, and the Countof Monte Cristo, and the Man in the Iron Mask. And “Under The Red Robe” whoever wrote that. Love Richelieu: political genius, also Louis XIV, but not Louis XV. Do not deserved to be vilified in literature. But is really excellent literature, so forgive them. Oh, and The Scarlet Pimpernel. All good historical literature seems to be French. Why is that? French prose is terrible. Foucault, Derrida, anyone?

Hate my tutor, however, critical bastard.

Whoa, it’s really dark at six now. Freaky. And will only get darker as winter progresses, of course. Will have to walk back from busstop in the dark, most intimidating. Not today, however, as am parked in Seymour Centre Car Park. Walk there will doubtless be intimidating, however.

The girl with the cool short bright pink hair in my History tutorial now has purple hair. Am v. jealous. Wish I had hair light enough to dye effectively.

Also: weirdness: the girl with whom I’m doing my history presentation in a fortnight turn out to be Larissa Chu’s sister Natalie. So bizarre. Apparently she recognized my name, so she asked if I went to PLC. Had never really considered myself a subject for discussion in the Chu household. Truly bizarre afternoon.

Will adjourn for frozen Coke, and battle the traffic home, and the, if my internet is functional, post this infernally long piece of blather on the blog where maybe a grand total of one person will get as far as this sentence. To that person I say this: Hello, and I salute your perseverance. I also apologise for wasting your presumably valuable time. Have a pleasant life, until I next post, after which point renewal of my blessing is reliant on your reading that too. Adios and farewell, loving fans.