Well, the exams are finally over. Yay! I still have leftover stress, though, I keep feeling guilty for not working, even though I have nothing left that I should be doing.
Worse, having studied for ages, and am therefore unable to from cherent sentences or thoughts, or think without bits of Catullus turning up in my mind. grrr....
Ah, I can't be bothered writing anything this evening. Toooo tired, will sleep instead and return, to thunderous applause, doubtless, tomorrow or similar. Have nice evening, and remember kids: sleep more than 3 hours the night before your exams, especially if you have 2 exams on that day. Otherwise, you too might fall asleep in your psych exam. On the other hand, yay for mid-exam naps! Surprisingly refreshing, plus leaning forward on my desk, my scarf made an awesome pillow.
Bugger, I have to do those three huge piles of filing, and the complex accounting. D'you reckon they'd buy it if I just said that I had done it but that little [magical, Katie] elves had undone afterwards? Worth a shot, surely? Hmmm....
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
Toffee Apples: a review
It’s amazing, in this occasionally depressing, and near-continuously stressful world, just exactly how much joy can be contained in a toffee apple. It’s so perfect. Less than $2 buys an apple on a stick, coated in the shiniest, reddest toffee ingenuity can devise. They’re red, they’re shiny, they’re round, they come on a stick, they’re sweet and they’re fruit. They conjure up festivals and easter shows and circuses with lions and tigers and acrobats, and trips to the seaside and so on. All those places that were so wonderful in childhood, and which you probably only read about in their ideal form, which adult life has tarnished, a toffee apple can recall with crystal clarity. Perfect. Even better, by a narrow margin, than fairy floss on a stick (which is the best kind of fairy floss), because it’s not overpoweringly sugary, it feels healthy, so you don’t have to feel guilty, and it’s shiny and compact and cheap.
They have amazing powers, actually. Today we (Cat and I, obviously) went shopping, and on a whim, bought toffee apples, and due to our benevolent saintliness, we got 3, so Felix could have one. Had a truly amazing effect, a fairly quiet Scotsman reduced to a 5-year-old in seconds flat. He was just about jumping up and down in excitement. (Rather amusing in itself, really)
It’s funny how most people will be reduced to giggling children at the mere promise of a toffee apple. I think they might be the best ‘thing’ in the world (discounting people, obviously. Well, the sort of people who read this blog, anyway). Proof: If I were to call Cat at home, say, from the shops, and say “I’ve just won the lottery, and I was thinking, let’s buy the house, and live there rent-free, and not have to worry about getting evicted at the end of the year.” She’d sigh and not believe me. If I was to call and say “I’ve bought toffee apples, yours is red and has one of those big platform-y bits where the toffee has spread out to give you a crackable ledge at the top of your apple, and I’ll be home with it in 20 minutes” she’d be highly excited and forget about her essays and exam for a while.
In short, toffee apples: highly recommended as a solution to most of life’s problems. It’s as good as, maybe better than, giving a gerbera to the bus driver and saying “thanks for the lift”, for solving the creeping stress and lingering depression of early winter exams.
Five stars.
They have amazing powers, actually. Today we (Cat and I, obviously) went shopping, and on a whim, bought toffee apples, and due to our benevolent saintliness, we got 3, so Felix could have one. Had a truly amazing effect, a fairly quiet Scotsman reduced to a 5-year-old in seconds flat. He was just about jumping up and down in excitement. (Rather amusing in itself, really)
It’s funny how most people will be reduced to giggling children at the mere promise of a toffee apple. I think they might be the best ‘thing’ in the world (discounting people, obviously. Well, the sort of people who read this blog, anyway). Proof: If I were to call Cat at home, say, from the shops, and say “I’ve just won the lottery, and I was thinking, let’s buy the house, and live there rent-free, and not have to worry about getting evicted at the end of the year.” She’d sigh and not believe me. If I was to call and say “I’ve bought toffee apples, yours is red and has one of those big platform-y bits where the toffee has spread out to give you a crackable ledge at the top of your apple, and I’ll be home with it in 20 minutes” she’d be highly excited and forget about her essays and exam for a while.
In short, toffee apples: highly recommended as a solution to most of life’s problems. It’s as good as, maybe better than, giving a gerbera to the bus driver and saying “thanks for the lift”, for solving the creeping stress and lingering depression of early winter exams.
Five stars.
Waiting for my take-home...
So, I'm currently online (obviously) and also in bed. Yay for wireless internet and laptops!
The reason for this, you see, is that my latin lecturer promised to email out the take home exam this morning before ten. It's not here yet, but gives me a perfectly legitimate excuse to footle about on the net while I wait for it to come through.
Not really sure about this exam, actually, only went to some of the lectures, and took atrocious notes. Am nonetheless blithely confident that can get it done today, as well as finishing highlighting the webnotes for my other psych exam.
On Monday, you see, I have a(nother) Latin exam at 9am (how awful that is, as time, too), then before noon, I have to hand in my take-home, then at 3pm my 2-hour Psychology:Learning and Motivation exam starts. It promises to be a fun day. At least it gets my exams out of the way, as of 5:15-ish I'll've (that looks weirder typed than it sounds when said.... hmmm...) finished all my exams! Yay!
So, going skiing for a fortnight in the holidays (no internet! May die.). When I return, possibly in one of thefirst weekends of the holidays, I'm thinking, as I may have mentioned, that another B2C party would be great. If the garden at Lilyfield was big enough, we could get a jumpy castle. That would be so cool! Darn.
In other news, Pun has a blog too now! Suspect is some kind of creeping contagion. Still, yay! Much better than other contagions, eg. the Plague. This one has comment facility! And allows avatars/profile pics. Which leads me via a nice segue, to the fact that I've finally gotten around to posting a profile pic! Yay!
Keep studying, friends (except such lucky bastards as Tim, whose exams finish today. Yes his last and second exam is today. *shakes fist*). Until next time...
The reason for this, you see, is that my latin lecturer promised to email out the take home exam this morning before ten. It's not here yet, but gives me a perfectly legitimate excuse to footle about on the net while I wait for it to come through.
Not really sure about this exam, actually, only went to some of the lectures, and took atrocious notes. Am nonetheless blithely confident that can get it done today, as well as finishing highlighting the webnotes for my other psych exam.
On Monday, you see, I have a(nother) Latin exam at 9am (how awful that is, as time, too), then before noon, I have to hand in my take-home, then at 3pm my 2-hour Psychology:Learning and Motivation exam starts. It promises to be a fun day. At least it gets my exams out of the way, as of 5:15-ish I'll've (that looks weirder typed than it sounds when said.... hmmm...) finished all my exams! Yay!
So, going skiing for a fortnight in the holidays (no internet! May die.). When I return, possibly in one of thefirst weekends of the holidays, I'm thinking, as I may have mentioned, that another B2C party would be great. If the garden at Lilyfield was big enough, we could get a jumpy castle. That would be so cool! Darn.
In other news, Pun has a blog too now! Suspect is some kind of creeping contagion. Still, yay! Much better than other contagions, eg. the Plague. This one has comment facility! And allows avatars/profile pics. Which leads me via a nice segue, to the fact that I've finally gotten around to posting a profile pic! Yay!
Keep studying, friends (except such lucky bastards as Tim, whose exams finish today. Yes his last and second exam is today. *shakes fist*). Until next time...
Thursday, June 23, 2005
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell and dark as night.
A new post, because (a) my exams are half over, and (b) I’ve broken the record now, so that’s all good. Plus 42 is, as Vivian says, an ideal number of comments. (Title is the quote of the week, yay for reading Shakespeare as a study break!)
So, we went for a walk the other day, as a study break, and as we were walking along we came past a lady with two children with her. This was all perfectly normal, except that when I looked at them (and their little dog), I was completely unable to focus on them. Like they were sort of fuzzy people designed only to be seen in the distance background in CGI movies or something. So, after they went past, I commented on the fact that either the people in our neighbourhood were badly-animated and out of focus, or I was going blind, and she said that she’s had exactly the same impression! *gasp!*
We had changed our minds and gone down that street on a whim, clearly what’s happened is this: the people in our neighbourhood are in fact CGI. Lilyfield is the Matrix! And/or it’s all a giant conspiracy. If so, (a) Cat’s either not in it, or else is pretty slow to the uptake, agreeing that people were out of focus would be a bit dim, and (b) I’m the main character, because I’m not in on it either. Regarding this latter, b, Yay! And also, how embarrassing to have people watching you all the time.
Not sure that all of my behaviour would stand up to scrutiny. Especially my tendency to talk to myself out loud in the car, and argue with myself. Hmmmm….
We were in the kitchen the same other day, on another hours-long study break, doubtless, when that song “goodbye my lover” came on. This sparked something of a debate. Cat asserted that its whiny maudlin-ness was highly effective, and probably captured the essence of the feeling that it was about. Conversely, I maintained that it’s whiny, maudlin, and, in point of fact, utter shit.
Further, I propose that it would never be a good song to listen to, psychologically, not just aurally. If [assuming it was a good enough song] you were single, it would make you lonely, if you were in a good relationship, it would make you fear for the end of it, if you were in a decaying relationship, it would fill you with dread, as well as making you jealous of the happy relationship that the singer is farewelling. If you’d just broken up with someone, but were trying to pick up the pieces, it would make that harder.
There is no good time to listen to that song. Plus, like I said, it sounds terrible.
This lead to a discussion of tragic music in general, and what made a song tragic, as opposed to sad. So we (naturally) made a 3-hour playlist of all the very sad songs on my computer.
On examination, however, I think that only a few of the songs are properly tragic. And cause that real stirring-of-the-soul, gosh-that-is-completely-unlike-my-situation-but I-could-just-cry-for-you ruth. Really tragic music has to sound heartfelt, have that depth of sound to them, and a real crescendo of sorrow. (Awww…). So here are the contenders, in my opinion:
Gregorio Allegri’s “Misere”;
Matchbox 20’s “You Won’t Be Mine” and;
The Whitlams’ “I Don’t Believe Anymore”, with possibly a side order of “Cries Too Hard”.
This is particularly irritating, since I’ve lost my copy of Torch The Moon, the Whitlams album, so I couldn’t put those last two on the list.
So what’s the difference between something that’s tragic and something that’s just really, really sad? I think tragedy needs to go that little bit further, add a dash of irony. So: the end of Romeo and Juliet is tragic. They both kill themselves, thinking the other to be already dead. (Especially in the Luhrman adaptation) Julius Caesar is maybe a little tragic, given that he disregards the warnings, but mostly the ending, where everyone ends up dead in various nasty ways is just very sad. Hmmm….
Deep. Deep and deeply pointless. I really should get back to work.
Have taken to reading Shakespeare’s sonnets in breaks. Am rather taken with them, actually. Some of those are tragic. Yay for Shakespeare, and sympathy for his/his persona’s sucky life.
Read Ben Lee’s Blog the other day. Ha! My comments are soooo much better. All his are like “OMG Ben Lee, you are like soooooooo totally awesum!!!!!11!!one!!!! I totuly worship you, and so do all my freinds!I can’t believe I’m writing to you!!!! I’m learning the guitar two! Can I be in your band?” Poor guy. You guys rock.
(Also, hi, Alex!)
So, we went for a walk the other day, as a study break, and as we were walking along we came past a lady with two children with her. This was all perfectly normal, except that when I looked at them (and their little dog), I was completely unable to focus on them. Like they were sort of fuzzy people designed only to be seen in the distance background in CGI movies or something. So, after they went past, I commented on the fact that either the people in our neighbourhood were badly-animated and out of focus, or I was going blind, and she said that she’s had exactly the same impression! *gasp!*
We had changed our minds and gone down that street on a whim, clearly what’s happened is this: the people in our neighbourhood are in fact CGI. Lilyfield is the Matrix! And/or it’s all a giant conspiracy. If so, (a) Cat’s either not in it, or else is pretty slow to the uptake, agreeing that people were out of focus would be a bit dim, and (b) I’m the main character, because I’m not in on it either. Regarding this latter, b, Yay! And also, how embarrassing to have people watching you all the time.
Not sure that all of my behaviour would stand up to scrutiny. Especially my tendency to talk to myself out loud in the car, and argue with myself. Hmmmm….
We were in the kitchen the same other day, on another hours-long study break, doubtless, when that song “goodbye my lover” came on. This sparked something of a debate. Cat asserted that its whiny maudlin-ness was highly effective, and probably captured the essence of the feeling that it was about. Conversely, I maintained that it’s whiny, maudlin, and, in point of fact, utter shit.
Further, I propose that it would never be a good song to listen to, psychologically, not just aurally. If [assuming it was a good enough song] you were single, it would make you lonely, if you were in a good relationship, it would make you fear for the end of it, if you were in a decaying relationship, it would fill you with dread, as well as making you jealous of the happy relationship that the singer is farewelling. If you’d just broken up with someone, but were trying to pick up the pieces, it would make that harder.
There is no good time to listen to that song. Plus, like I said, it sounds terrible.
This lead to a discussion of tragic music in general, and what made a song tragic, as opposed to sad. So we (naturally) made a 3-hour playlist of all the very sad songs on my computer.
On examination, however, I think that only a few of the songs are properly tragic. And cause that real stirring-of-the-soul, gosh-that-is-completely-unlike-my-situation-but I-could-just-cry-for-you ruth. Really tragic music has to sound heartfelt, have that depth of sound to them, and a real crescendo of sorrow. (Awww…). So here are the contenders, in my opinion:
Gregorio Allegri’s “Misere”;
Matchbox 20’s “You Won’t Be Mine” and;
The Whitlams’ “I Don’t Believe Anymore”, with possibly a side order of “Cries Too Hard”.
This is particularly irritating, since I’ve lost my copy of Torch The Moon, the Whitlams album, so I couldn’t put those last two on the list.
So what’s the difference between something that’s tragic and something that’s just really, really sad? I think tragedy needs to go that little bit further, add a dash of irony. So: the end of Romeo and Juliet is tragic. They both kill themselves, thinking the other to be already dead. (Especially in the Luhrman adaptation) Julius Caesar is maybe a little tragic, given that he disregards the warnings, but mostly the ending, where everyone ends up dead in various nasty ways is just very sad. Hmmm….
Deep. Deep and deeply pointless. I really should get back to work.
Have taken to reading Shakespeare’s sonnets in breaks. Am rather taken with them, actually. Some of those are tragic. Yay for Shakespeare, and sympathy for his/his persona’s sucky life.
Read Ben Lee’s Blog the other day. Ha! My comments are soooo much better. All his are like “OMG Ben Lee, you are like soooooooo totally awesum!!!!!11!!one!!!! I totuly worship you, and so do all my freinds!I can’t believe I’m writing to you!!!! I’m learning the guitar two! Can I be in your band?” Poor guy. You guys rock.
(Also, hi, Alex!)
Friday, June 17, 2005
Triumph today, though, yes?
So, yesterday my aim for the day was to finish reading through and highlighting my Biology webnotes (an endeavour in which, I might add, I signally failed). And that's my goal today, too.
But today, my friends, today, I shall triumph. I'm up to lecture 25 now, and there's 32, so confidence abounds. In fact, what the hell, I'll try to get the notes I actually took in those lectures which I attended read and highlit too. Maybe even the chapter summaries of the chapters I'm suppoosed to have read. Not the chapters, though, because there's 45 of them, and quite frankly I can't be bothered. Biology is, by and large, pretty straightforward (althought the details get sticky) so I'm sure I'll figure it out. Plus, it's a multiple choice ad short answer exam.
I'll be much too busy hoping I don't fail my History and Philosophy of Psychology exam the next day, as of tomorrow, which is Saturday!!! Aaaarrggh! *runs in circles with flailling limbs, but mysteriously fails to get back to work, but rather continues blogging*
Speaking of blogging, Vivian's blog had 33 comments on the one post, Alicia's blog, which I shall link, shortly, had 32, Spampage had heaps too. I want lots of meaningless comments! Why isn't my blog spammed with meaningless discussions of whether it's ok to give toothless babies fairy floss? Now I feel all unloved. *sulks*
In other news, today I finally got some jonquils! Yay! Also roses and poppies! Huzzah! Actually, was highly profitable day, as paid rent, but also banked a cheque (so that's even, surely?), got three new highlighters, a card with a kitten on it, 2 eyeshadow thingies, nail polish, filled a prescription, and was given 2 presents, not counting the roses, which would make it three, a small adorable book and a keyring.
All in all, Yay. Also, am listening to the Phantom of the Opera. which is always good, although possibly not highly conducive to focusing on study? [heh, accidentally wrote "focussing on stud" which is entirely different. One might almost say, diamentrically opposed, really]
Strange but cool evening, Sam and Bec (aka SamandBec, Sam'n'Bec, or Salmon Bake- like potato bake, but with Salmon?) came over, as did Casey, and we had Thai for dinner. Yay!
Also about 3-4L of Orange passionfruit juice (which is delivered to our house every second Monday). Which ended up being done in shots of juice. Then some bright spark had the idea of going completely OTT and doing juice shots tequila-style; lick sugar, take juice shot (actually only 35% juice, rest is pretty much sugar and water), then instead of lemon, eat a square of chocolate. Cheaper than alcohol, just as much fun (more?), no hangover, and sugar high almost as effective and you can drive afterwards. Plus, much tastier than tequila.
Then they all went to see Star Wars, which I've seen, whilst I remained here to study (and I have, I've finally finished my Bio lecture web notes! Yay!)[this bit, oviously, I added later, in editting], which was a great test to me, not leaving with them, I can tell you.
So, because of the flowers, my room now smells all nice and floral. And as soon as I find some bluetack, I'll stick up the adorable card with a relaxing kitten on it, which I bought for that very purpose.
After all that, perhaps had best get back to work.
Before I go, though, here are a couple of words designed to incite comment. "Landrights for gay whales!" ( an all-purpose motto to shout at protests), "Giving birth sounds dead easy to me, Pun", "I've never read the Mists of Avalon, actually", and "I wonder what interesting trivia a Fantail would tell us right now?"
But today, my friends, today, I shall triumph. I'm up to lecture 25 now, and there's 32, so confidence abounds. In fact, what the hell, I'll try to get the notes I actually took in those lectures which I attended read and highlit too. Maybe even the chapter summaries of the chapters I'm suppoosed to have read. Not the chapters, though, because there's 45 of them, and quite frankly I can't be bothered. Biology is, by and large, pretty straightforward (althought the details get sticky) so I'm sure I'll figure it out. Plus, it's a multiple choice ad short answer exam.
I'll be much too busy hoping I don't fail my History and Philosophy of Psychology exam the next day, as of tomorrow, which is Saturday!!! Aaaarrggh! *runs in circles with flailling limbs, but mysteriously fails to get back to work, but rather continues blogging*
Speaking of blogging, Vivian's blog had 33 comments on the one post, Alicia's blog, which I shall link, shortly, had 32, Spampage had heaps too. I want lots of meaningless comments! Why isn't my blog spammed with meaningless discussions of whether it's ok to give toothless babies fairy floss? Now I feel all unloved. *sulks*
In other news, today I finally got some jonquils! Yay! Also roses and poppies! Huzzah! Actually, was highly profitable day, as paid rent, but also banked a cheque (so that's even, surely?), got three new highlighters, a card with a kitten on it, 2 eyeshadow thingies, nail polish, filled a prescription, and was given 2 presents, not counting the roses, which would make it three, a small adorable book and a keyring.
All in all, Yay. Also, am listening to the Phantom of the Opera. which is always good, although possibly not highly conducive to focusing on study? [heh, accidentally wrote "focussing on stud" which is entirely different. One might almost say, diamentrically opposed, really]
Strange but cool evening, Sam and Bec (aka SamandBec, Sam'n'Bec, or Salmon Bake- like potato bake, but with Salmon?) came over, as did Casey, and we had Thai for dinner. Yay!
Also about 3-4L of Orange passionfruit juice (which is delivered to our house every second Monday). Which ended up being done in shots of juice. Then some bright spark had the idea of going completely OTT and doing juice shots tequila-style; lick sugar, take juice shot (actually only 35% juice, rest is pretty much sugar and water), then instead of lemon, eat a square of chocolate. Cheaper than alcohol, just as much fun (more?), no hangover, and sugar high almost as effective and you can drive afterwards. Plus, much tastier than tequila.
Then they all went to see Star Wars, which I've seen, whilst I remained here to study (and I have, I've finally finished my Bio lecture web notes! Yay!)[this bit, oviously, I added later, in editting], which was a great test to me, not leaving with them, I can tell you.
So, because of the flowers, my room now smells all nice and floral. And as soon as I find some bluetack, I'll stick up the adorable card with a relaxing kitten on it, which I bought for that very purpose.
After all that, perhaps had best get back to work.
Before I go, though, here are a couple of words designed to incite comment. "Landrights for gay whales!" ( an all-purpose motto to shout at protests), "Giving birth sounds dead easy to me, Pun", "I've never read the Mists of Avalon, actually", and "I wonder what interesting trivia a Fantail would tell us right now?"
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
How am I supposed to push against my boundaries if I don't have any? Where's the challenge?...
"How am I supposed to push against my boundaries if I don't have any? Where's the challenge? It's like I'm Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape", except the Germans have let me out, given me a motorbike and an A-Z of Hamburg. " <-This sort of thing is why everyone should watch the show "My Family": it's British and cool.
So: it seems that I am completely unable to get up when my alarm goes off these days. Why is it so? I hear the alarm, I wake up, I know I should get up, but am completely unable to do so.
Possibly I ought to get to sleep earlier? Or even, I dread to even think it, cut down my caffeine intake? Hmmm...
In other news, Michael Jackson was today found Not Guilty of child abuse. I don't know about you, (since first of all, who knows who's reading this at any given time? You could be anybody... creepy, and second of all, lots of people disagree with me on this), but I kind of think that this is a Good Thing. Strikes me that the poor guy's just sort of strange and likes kids, (probably something to do with the whole Jackson 5, no real childhood thing, who knows) and that those parents have just gone "lets make a quick buck here".
I've certainly not heard anything that suggests otherwise.
And really, Innocent until Proven Guilty is one of legal axioms that I'm rather fond of. Truth, Justice and the not-exclusively-American-you-egocentric-bastards-way and so on, yes?
So it struck me that he was going to have difficulty getting a fair trial, everyone was going to have preconceived "Wacko Jacko" ideas, so you can't help feeling for him.
Thinking of celebrity scandal, What was with that Kylie Minogue breast cancer thing? No objection to her getting breast cancer, you understand, sort of thing that might happen to anyone, very probably happen to me one day, but really, all those people who "came out in support of her". Particularly the ones who, with uninformed and blase confidence, said things like "Kylie will beat this, she's tough and strong minded" and so on.
What? Are those people (men as well as women) who "succumb" to cancer just weak-willed and not trying hard enough? Completely out of line and meaningless guff, I rather thought.
Obviously that wasn't what they meant, but honestly. How would you feel if you'd just been told that your breast cancer was going to kill you within the month, and you heard people on the radio saying that Kylie would never stoop so low as to die of it? People really ought to think about the implications of their placatory press statements.
I think possibly I may have thought about this too much. Ahh... sweet Stuvac. Actually, I'm at work at the moment, so I can't study, so this is completely guilt-free. Apart from the being a Bad Employee thing, obviously, but bah! I care not for such trivial matters.
As of next year, it will be illegal to have no smoke alarms in your house. Feel that this will impact negatively in Newtown and Glebe, where incense burning is so popular. Also, worry about one in our kitchen: what about when we (reasonably regularly) fill our kitchen with smoke by making papodums or something? Our whole street will panic and fear for their safety and houses. That's the thing with terraces; one goes, they all do.
Conversely, now we're marginally less likely to die horribly as our house burns down for that very reason, so that's pretty much a plus.
Grrrr... Why is it that at work, the phones won't ring for half an hour at all, and then for the next half hour, there will be not less than 2 lines ringing? One of life's little cruelties. Big believers in the 'kick them when they're down' philosophy, the phone gods. Someone said to me just yesterday "call me if you get bored at work". How optomistic. The whole appeal of the blog is I can leave a sentence hanging for hours if necessary. I never have the chance to call someone and chat. You'd spend half the conversation on hold, and no-one enjoys that. Also, friends never appreciate it when you pick up the line that they were patiently (geddit?) waiting on, and say stressedly "sorry, what was your name again?" or "and what time was your appointment?".
My job is pleasantry exchange, but it's highly intensive pleasantry exchange. Not for the faint of charm. Or, you know, short tempered. Which might explain why evry time in recent memory that I've been really irritated has been a Tuesday. All my patience gets used up on people who ring up and ask stupid questions, or questions to which I couldn't possibly know the answer, like "how much will the anaesthetist cost?" (and don't even get me started on people who pronounce it "anaethetist". There's an s in it. There's a reason for that s. Anaethetist is not a word. It's very simple, practice with me: "An. ees. thet. ist." 4 simple syllables.) and "I just had a blood test 2 minutes ago: what was my result?".
The most classic of these examples was this one woman who called and asked dim questions, which I answered, than called back later, and even though I had told her who I was, said "Could you please answer these questions? I think the young girl I was speaking to before was confused." And I was like "riiiight. Hang on for a second, I'll just put you on hold."
Silly bint. If you're going to backstab someone, at least make sure you aren't actually addressing them.
I really do like the expression 'silly bint', though. Rather nifty, and with bonus overtones of britishness.
Also: Yay for Nudie juices. (a) they're yummy, and (b) afer they burned down last year, no-one was hurt, and so in gratitude, any firefighter who shows up in uniform to Nudie headquarters gets 2 free nudies. I think that's kind of cool.
Yay also for the emergency services, bless their little flame-retardent cotton socks.
Hmmm. the word "cotton" looks all wrong, suddenly. Strange...
This post looks worryingly rant-y. I don't mean it as a rant. I just had a series of loosely related thoughts, that's all, honest.
So: it seems that I am completely unable to get up when my alarm goes off these days. Why is it so? I hear the alarm, I wake up, I know I should get up, but am completely unable to do so.
Possibly I ought to get to sleep earlier? Or even, I dread to even think it, cut down my caffeine intake? Hmmm...
In other news, Michael Jackson was today found Not Guilty of child abuse. I don't know about you, (since first of all, who knows who's reading this at any given time? You could be anybody... creepy, and second of all, lots of people disagree with me on this), but I kind of think that this is a Good Thing. Strikes me that the poor guy's just sort of strange and likes kids, (probably something to do with the whole Jackson 5, no real childhood thing, who knows) and that those parents have just gone "lets make a quick buck here".
I've certainly not heard anything that suggests otherwise.
And really, Innocent until Proven Guilty is one of legal axioms that I'm rather fond of. Truth, Justice and the not-exclusively-American-you-egocentric-bastards-way and so on, yes?
So it struck me that he was going to have difficulty getting a fair trial, everyone was going to have preconceived "Wacko Jacko" ideas, so you can't help feeling for him.
Thinking of celebrity scandal, What was with that Kylie Minogue breast cancer thing? No objection to her getting breast cancer, you understand, sort of thing that might happen to anyone, very probably happen to me one day, but really, all those people who "came out in support of her". Particularly the ones who, with uninformed and blase confidence, said things like "Kylie will beat this, she's tough and strong minded" and so on.
What? Are those people (men as well as women) who "succumb" to cancer just weak-willed and not trying hard enough? Completely out of line and meaningless guff, I rather thought.
Obviously that wasn't what they meant, but honestly. How would you feel if you'd just been told that your breast cancer was going to kill you within the month, and you heard people on the radio saying that Kylie would never stoop so low as to die of it? People really ought to think about the implications of their placatory press statements.
I think possibly I may have thought about this too much. Ahh... sweet Stuvac. Actually, I'm at work at the moment, so I can't study, so this is completely guilt-free. Apart from the being a Bad Employee thing, obviously, but bah! I care not for such trivial matters.
As of next year, it will be illegal to have no smoke alarms in your house. Feel that this will impact negatively in Newtown and Glebe, where incense burning is so popular. Also, worry about one in our kitchen: what about when we (reasonably regularly) fill our kitchen with smoke by making papodums or something? Our whole street will panic and fear for their safety and houses. That's the thing with terraces; one goes, they all do.
Conversely, now we're marginally less likely to die horribly as our house burns down for that very reason, so that's pretty much a plus.
Grrrr... Why is it that at work, the phones won't ring for half an hour at all, and then for the next half hour, there will be not less than 2 lines ringing? One of life's little cruelties. Big believers in the 'kick them when they're down' philosophy, the phone gods. Someone said to me just yesterday "call me if you get bored at work". How optomistic. The whole appeal of the blog is I can leave a sentence hanging for hours if necessary. I never have the chance to call someone and chat. You'd spend half the conversation on hold, and no-one enjoys that. Also, friends never appreciate it when you pick up the line that they were patiently (geddit?) waiting on, and say stressedly "sorry, what was your name again?" or "and what time was your appointment?".
My job is pleasantry exchange, but it's highly intensive pleasantry exchange. Not for the faint of charm. Or, you know, short tempered. Which might explain why evry time in recent memory that I've been really irritated has been a Tuesday. All my patience gets used up on people who ring up and ask stupid questions, or questions to which I couldn't possibly know the answer, like "how much will the anaesthetist cost?" (and don't even get me started on people who pronounce it "anaethetist". There's an s in it. There's a reason for that s. Anaethetist is not a word. It's very simple, practice with me: "An. ees. thet. ist." 4 simple syllables.) and "I just had a blood test 2 minutes ago: what was my result?".
The most classic of these examples was this one woman who called and asked dim questions, which I answered, than called back later, and even though I had told her who I was, said "Could you please answer these questions? I think the young girl I was speaking to before was confused." And I was like "riiiight. Hang on for a second, I'll just put you on hold."
Silly bint. If you're going to backstab someone, at least make sure you aren't actually addressing them.
I really do like the expression 'silly bint', though. Rather nifty, and with bonus overtones of britishness.
Also: Yay for Nudie juices. (a) they're yummy, and (b) afer they burned down last year, no-one was hurt, and so in gratitude, any firefighter who shows up in uniform to Nudie headquarters gets 2 free nudies. I think that's kind of cool.
Yay also for the emergency services, bless their little flame-retardent cotton socks.
Hmmm. the word "cotton" looks all wrong, suddenly. Strange...
This post looks worryingly rant-y. I don't mean it as a rant. I just had a series of loosely related thoughts, that's all, honest.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Give in and love it, what’s the point in hating me? You can’t argue with popularity, or you could, but you’d be wrong!
Love that line. Robbie Williams positively rubbing himself up against his ego. It’s probably unhealthy that I find that attractive. But so it goes.
Just found this sentence in my lecture notes: “ We must try to be more tough-minded than Descartes and believe things only if we can find some evidence to support them.”
Hmmm… This seems a little odd to me, but so it goes.
It is now officially winter: the season of coldness outside and warm drinks, as well as being stuvac, the week of procrastination and unnecessary cooking and craft projects. (Last year I made a lampshade and improved it several models out of nothing but psych notes and staples…)
You all, of course, know what this means. Or, at any rate, unless you stop reading, you’re about to find out. That’s right! It’s time for the first batch of Angela’s Patented Apple Concoction to be made! If “scumble” wasn’t taken as a name, I’d call it that, only it isn’t alcoholic (actually, that’s an idea that could bear looking into: possibly I could add apple schnapps? Or just cut the middle man and add vodka? Seems unnecessary and slightly dangerous…. Definitely not in stuvac, I feel) Apple-cinnamon-clovey-gingeriness is about to strike again, and my whole house will smell delicious.
It’s the sort of smell that gives people the urge to top the air with crumble and side with whipped cream. Mmmm….
If it weren’t 11:45 at night, I’d go and make some right now. And possibly apple crumble…. And….
See how insidious procrastination can be? I very nearly sewed myself a bracelet today, before I caught myself. I already did the washing up. I didn’t even register until Blasted Felix said “trying to avoid working, huh?” that that was what I was doing. There are two of me, one of me is very cunning and the other is just a little dim. It would be nice if the smart one was the one to do my exams, but she’s always busy trying to get me to sharpen my pencils during the actual exams, not answering the questions.
Aha! I just realised that that was what this post was. Sneaky, sneaky… *drags self offstage by the ear, and gets back to studying*
Just found this sentence in my lecture notes: “ We must try to be more tough-minded than Descartes and believe things only if we can find some evidence to support them.”
Hmmm… This seems a little odd to me, but so it goes.
It is now officially winter: the season of coldness outside and warm drinks, as well as being stuvac, the week of procrastination and unnecessary cooking and craft projects. (Last year I made a lampshade and improved it several models out of nothing but psych notes and staples…)
You all, of course, know what this means. Or, at any rate, unless you stop reading, you’re about to find out. That’s right! It’s time for the first batch of Angela’s Patented Apple Concoction to be made! If “scumble” wasn’t taken as a name, I’d call it that, only it isn’t alcoholic (actually, that’s an idea that could bear looking into: possibly I could add apple schnapps? Or just cut the middle man and add vodka? Seems unnecessary and slightly dangerous…. Definitely not in stuvac, I feel) Apple-cinnamon-clovey-gingeriness is about to strike again, and my whole house will smell delicious.
It’s the sort of smell that gives people the urge to top the air with crumble and side with whipped cream. Mmmm….
If it weren’t 11:45 at night, I’d go and make some right now. And possibly apple crumble…. And….
See how insidious procrastination can be? I very nearly sewed myself a bracelet today, before I caught myself. I already did the washing up. I didn’t even register until Blasted Felix said “trying to avoid working, huh?” that that was what I was doing. There are two of me, one of me is very cunning and the other is just a little dim. It would be nice if the smart one was the one to do my exams, but she’s always busy trying to get me to sharpen my pencils during the actual exams, not answering the questions.
Aha! I just realised that that was what this post was. Sneaky, sneaky… *drags self offstage by the ear, and gets back to studying*
Study: an impossible dream
I seriously need to do some work, but find myself utterly incapable of doing any. I really need to revise, especially for psychology. I downloaded the exam format today, and according to that, "Students who aspire to grades exceeding the ‘Pass’ level will be expected to show evidence of wider reading and critical thought. It is important to give a reasoned answer to all questions attempted."
Intimidating, much? Possibly ought to just kill self now, but really, seems like such an overreaction. Much more sensible to do the damn work.
Also, tried to make creme brulee out of the leftover mixture today, but had gone off. Was v. saddening. Worse, I decided to microwave it, so it'd be solid and therefore easier to throw out. And it smelled sooooo nice. Was an effort of will to throw it out untasted. Have no wish to acquire food poisoning, however, so was strong.
In other news, my sister now has a blog, doesn't everyone these days? Interestingly, she said she hadn't commented on that post about me wanting a Legolas because it wasn't about magical elves as requested. When I pointed out that a Legolas of one's very own was about as much a magical elf as it was possible to be, she said "ohhh...", and that she "hadn't seen the connection between 'elf' and 'elves'". Wisely refrained from pursuing this obvious line of questioning, as seemed that it could go nowhere good.
Cannot help but wonder, however, what she actually had in mind when she asked for "magical elves". Is this some new slang? If so, what on earth for, and why haven't I been informed? Would it have counted if I said I wanted a Legolas and a Celeborn, and thus boosted the number of elves discussed into the plural? Is it distantly possible that it has never occurred to her that a group of plural "elves" is always comprised of a number of single units, each of which is an "elf"? If so, did she think that elf plural was 'elfs'? This would be fine, only what the hell are 'elves', then?
Possibly was typo, and she meant to ask for "magical shelves"? On which you put things only to have them sent 2 hours into the future, so that they aren't there when you look ten minutes later, but after 2 hours of searching, are to be found sitting innocently where you originally put them? I think I have one of those, somewhere in my house. Feel that this would heartless and cruel, and also pointless, and that they would offer limited discussion anyway. Although you could hide things there for two hours, completely unfindably. And what if you lent your arm on it? Would you be armless for 2 hours? What if, after 2 hours, you weren't at the shelf? Would it automatically re-attach itself? Can only assume not. Would just sit there, looking untidy, and bleeding on the carpet.
Possibly would malfunction, and as soon as things arrive in the future, would hop forward another two hours instantly. If so, would be effective garbage disposal, although all that rubbish would just accumulate it whatever point in time the shelf broke at.
This strikes me as entirely too dangerous a thing to have lying around the house. Possibly would be useful to be able to send things back. You could make instant antiques. But what for? They'd only be older versions of new things, not a priceless baroque loveseat or something. Would still be your new Ikea chair, only tattier. How useless! Or you could put your keys there after you find them, so that they'll be there when you look as you dash, late, out the door in the morning.
Elves and shelves and such nonsense aside, I bought the new Coldplay CD today. Yay! Is good, as far as I can tell. But you really have to listen to a CD about 7 times to familiarise yourself with it before you can give a definitive judgement, I think. Many CDs which are disliked first time around become favourites later. Or at least, this is my experience of them.
All my posters are staring at me reproachfully as if to say "don't you 'aspire to something more than a pass grade'? Stop typing such utter bollocks, and do some work!" Stupid uppity posters. Possibly they have a point, however, and so I sign off for now. Catch y'all later, and probably much sooner than I should.
Intimidating, much? Possibly ought to just kill self now, but really, seems like such an overreaction. Much more sensible to do the damn work.
Also, tried to make creme brulee out of the leftover mixture today, but had gone off. Was v. saddening. Worse, I decided to microwave it, so it'd be solid and therefore easier to throw out. And it smelled sooooo nice. Was an effort of will to throw it out untasted. Have no wish to acquire food poisoning, however, so was strong.
In other news, my sister now has a blog, doesn't everyone these days? Interestingly, she said she hadn't commented on that post about me wanting a Legolas because it wasn't about magical elves as requested. When I pointed out that a Legolas of one's very own was about as much a magical elf as it was possible to be, she said "ohhh...", and that she "hadn't seen the connection between 'elf' and 'elves'". Wisely refrained from pursuing this obvious line of questioning, as seemed that it could go nowhere good.
Cannot help but wonder, however, what she actually had in mind when she asked for "magical elves". Is this some new slang? If so, what on earth for, and why haven't I been informed? Would it have counted if I said I wanted a Legolas and a Celeborn, and thus boosted the number of elves discussed into the plural? Is it distantly possible that it has never occurred to her that a group of plural "elves" is always comprised of a number of single units, each of which is an "elf"? If so, did she think that elf plural was 'elfs'? This would be fine, only what the hell are 'elves', then?
Possibly was typo, and she meant to ask for "magical shelves"? On which you put things only to have them sent 2 hours into the future, so that they aren't there when you look ten minutes later, but after 2 hours of searching, are to be found sitting innocently where you originally put them? I think I have one of those, somewhere in my house. Feel that this would heartless and cruel, and also pointless, and that they would offer limited discussion anyway. Although you could hide things there for two hours, completely unfindably. And what if you lent your arm on it? Would you be armless for 2 hours? What if, after 2 hours, you weren't at the shelf? Would it automatically re-attach itself? Can only assume not. Would just sit there, looking untidy, and bleeding on the carpet.
Possibly would malfunction, and as soon as things arrive in the future, would hop forward another two hours instantly. If so, would be effective garbage disposal, although all that rubbish would just accumulate it whatever point in time the shelf broke at.
This strikes me as entirely too dangerous a thing to have lying around the house. Possibly would be useful to be able to send things back. You could make instant antiques. But what for? They'd only be older versions of new things, not a priceless baroque loveseat or something. Would still be your new Ikea chair, only tattier. How useless! Or you could put your keys there after you find them, so that they'll be there when you look as you dash, late, out the door in the morning.
Elves and shelves and such nonsense aside, I bought the new Coldplay CD today. Yay! Is good, as far as I can tell. But you really have to listen to a CD about 7 times to familiarise yourself with it before you can give a definitive judgement, I think. Many CDs which are disliked first time around become favourites later. Or at least, this is my experience of them.
All my posters are staring at me reproachfully as if to say "don't you 'aspire to something more than a pass grade'? Stop typing such utter bollocks, and do some work!" Stupid uppity posters. Possibly they have a point, however, and so I sign off for now. Catch y'all later, and probably much sooner than I should.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Assessment relies heavily on my having the right flowers about.
My history take-home is boring and confusing and due in tomorrow.
On way to handing it in, or possibly after handing it in, when the stress is ebbing a little, before crashing down in full "it's officially Stuvac now" force, plan to buy jonquils, if there are any to be had. Is impossible to study for exams without appropriate flora. For summer exams, this is jacaranda trees going purple left right and centre, and for the winter exams, this means jonquils.
Seriously, I just can't take these exams seriously otherwise.
Also, I've now bitten all my nails down on my right hand, as well as my left index finger. Darn.
Have now found out when take home exam is, for latin. Is due on the second Monday of the exam period. Ie., the 27th. Ie, the day when I have TWO OTHER HUGE EXAMS!! Gaah! Will be a terrible, terrible day, I make no doubt. On other hand, Monday night, and Tuesday ought to seriously rock. Yay!
The problem here is that I'm getting happy at the idea of my exams ending, but I haven't actually cracked a book for anything other than history, and I have an exam on that subject even as we speak.
In other news, feel v. sympathetic towards poor dear Tim, who has 13000 words (as an aside: Holy enormous workload Batman! That is a ridiculous number of words. I bet even my blog isn't that big) due in less than 12 days. For all those of you for whom it would be appropriate/meaningful, it might be nice to spare a prayer for the guy. I'm not even religious and it has that effect on me. Gosh.
*shakes head in awe*
Moving on to a more upbeat note, though, before we all commit seppuku or similar (ugh), aren't ducks great? Especially rubber duckies? They have a song written about them, so you can tell that they're pretty cool, but have you ever really thought about it?
Can just see the inventor as some Archimedes-type sitting in a bath, thinking "dammit, this is boring, if only there were ducks in here with me. Now that'd be cool. A little unhygenic, maybe, but... I could make them out of... rubber! Yes! And they'd be yellow! And have adorable orange beaks!" And then perhaps running naked through the streets of Syracuse or similar shouting "Eureka!".
Actually, I saw a picture of one today which was black with a purple beak and punk-ish designs on it, while still being just as adorable. I want one of those. Much better than some stupid movie character elf to have in the house. Also, less expensive to maintain, lembas is so costly and hard to come by these days.
Wonder where I could get a punk ducky? If you know, do tell me. Alternately, my birthday is but 2 short months away. But, as we always say here at the IB, why wait all that time? It's so much more fun giving Ang stuff right now. Let's all try it.
In other news, I realised that if I get off my bus 2 stops earlier, I don't have to walk up the big hill to uni. This is a major breakthrough. (I've only been catching the same bus for 2 years now, so it's not that is took me a long time to figure it out or anything....)
Anyway, I'm thinking of having another Back to Childhood party in one of the fist few weekends of semester. If it drags on into the evening, was thinking that instead of punch, we could have a punchbowl of fruitingle, with, and this is the important thing, a rubber ducky floating in it. Would be so sodding perfect. How outrageously cool would that be? *jumps up and down in chair* I'm so excited.
What else would be good at such a party, trying to recall the last one, but it's a little hazy.
Freckles, I recall. And fairy bread and pin the tail on the donkey, perhaps, and pass the parcel, and musical chairs, and 90s pop, and all manner of things. By all means suggest stuff.
Hair ribbons? Lolly bags? A cake in the shape of Miffy? (Did I do that last time, or just plan to?) Chocolate crackles, (maybe Bec can make those. She enjoyed making those cornflake honey joy things a lot, but they didn't actually work. Possibly this requires further thought.)
To those of you with whom I went to school, I reassure you, you'll like Bec and Sam and Tim and so on. Everyone does, eventually. It's hard not to like people who will get as into the theme as they will/we did. So don't worry, the original spirit will be preserved.
Possibly ought to get bck to work? Have been blathering for nigh on an hour. If I'd written this much of my exam, it'd be half over now. Oh well, on with the show. All those of you who like Gramsci, raise your hands.
Yes, that's what I thought. Me neither.
On way to handing it in, or possibly after handing it in, when the stress is ebbing a little, before crashing down in full "it's officially Stuvac now" force, plan to buy jonquils, if there are any to be had. Is impossible to study for exams without appropriate flora. For summer exams, this is jacaranda trees going purple left right and centre, and for the winter exams, this means jonquils.
Seriously, I just can't take these exams seriously otherwise.
Also, I've now bitten all my nails down on my right hand, as well as my left index finger. Darn.
Have now found out when take home exam is, for latin. Is due on the second Monday of the exam period. Ie., the 27th. Ie, the day when I have TWO OTHER HUGE EXAMS!! Gaah! Will be a terrible, terrible day, I make no doubt. On other hand, Monday night, and Tuesday ought to seriously rock. Yay!
The problem here is that I'm getting happy at the idea of my exams ending, but I haven't actually cracked a book for anything other than history, and I have an exam on that subject even as we speak.
In other news, feel v. sympathetic towards poor dear Tim, who has 13000 words (as an aside: Holy enormous workload Batman! That is a ridiculous number of words. I bet even my blog isn't that big) due in less than 12 days. For all those of you for whom it would be appropriate/meaningful, it might be nice to spare a prayer for the guy. I'm not even religious and it has that effect on me. Gosh.
*shakes head in awe*
Moving on to a more upbeat note, though, before we all commit seppuku or similar (ugh), aren't ducks great? Especially rubber duckies? They have a song written about them, so you can tell that they're pretty cool, but have you ever really thought about it?
Can just see the inventor as some Archimedes-type sitting in a bath, thinking "dammit, this is boring, if only there were ducks in here with me. Now that'd be cool. A little unhygenic, maybe, but... I could make them out of... rubber! Yes! And they'd be yellow! And have adorable orange beaks!" And then perhaps running naked through the streets of Syracuse or similar shouting "Eureka!".
Actually, I saw a picture of one today which was black with a purple beak and punk-ish designs on it, while still being just as adorable. I want one of those. Much better than some stupid movie character elf to have in the house. Also, less expensive to maintain, lembas is so costly and hard to come by these days.
Wonder where I could get a punk ducky? If you know, do tell me. Alternately, my birthday is but 2 short months away. But, as we always say here at the IB, why wait all that time? It's so much more fun giving Ang stuff right now. Let's all try it.
In other news, I realised that if I get off my bus 2 stops earlier, I don't have to walk up the big hill to uni. This is a major breakthrough. (I've only been catching the same bus for 2 years now, so it's not that is took me a long time to figure it out or anything....)
Anyway, I'm thinking of having another Back to Childhood party in one of the fist few weekends of semester. If it drags on into the evening, was thinking that instead of punch, we could have a punchbowl of fruitingle, with, and this is the important thing, a rubber ducky floating in it. Would be so sodding perfect. How outrageously cool would that be? *jumps up and down in chair* I'm so excited.
What else would be good at such a party, trying to recall the last one, but it's a little hazy.
Freckles, I recall. And fairy bread and pin the tail on the donkey, perhaps, and pass the parcel, and musical chairs, and 90s pop, and all manner of things. By all means suggest stuff.
Hair ribbons? Lolly bags? A cake in the shape of Miffy? (Did I do that last time, or just plan to?) Chocolate crackles, (maybe Bec can make those. She enjoyed making those cornflake honey joy things a lot, but they didn't actually work. Possibly this requires further thought.)
To those of you with whom I went to school, I reassure you, you'll like Bec and Sam and Tim and so on. Everyone does, eventually. It's hard not to like people who will get as into the theme as they will/we did. So don't worry, the original spirit will be preserved.
Possibly ought to get bck to work? Have been blathering for nigh on an hour. If I'd written this much of my exam, it'd be half over now. Oh well, on with the show. All those of you who like Gramsci, raise your hands.
Yes, that's what I thought. Me neither.
Monday, June 06, 2005
A less serious post, and probably thus more interesting, in a meaningless sort of way.
To my sister Katie, I say *adopts Jafar-voice and makes sweeping bow on italics* "My light is but to serve you my liege." As such, this post has a guaranteed higher discussion-of-magical-elves factor.
*waits for inspiration to strike*
[I tell you, you give these fans an inch, they take a mile. Such liberty-taking. tsk tsk.]
So, have been re-reading the Owner's Guides ( http://www.henneth-annun.net/stories/story_sort.cfm?STAuthorID=664&CSCharID=0&STCategoryID=0&STGenreID=0 ) for the LOTR characters. Really want a Legolas. Mk II, obviously. [for those of you who are either under 16 or related to me, do not read the other stories by Theresa Green, or I shall have to shake my finger at you sternly. And don't think I won't.] The Mk II ones are the movie ones, you see, rather than the book versions.
On the other hand, a choice of the Mk I would make me seem to have more integrity [I want to say "make me seem more intergitous" but this is not, to my knowledge, a word, unfortunately], but really, the new ones are so shiny. And I could dress it as a pirate on special occasions. Ooh...
On the downside, feel that this could be detrimental to my relationship with boyfriend, as bound to be unreasonable about my setting it to "slash", as would inevitably do. Also feel that would shortly go mad and smash it with a hammer, what with it nancing about saying things like "the horses are quiet and the men are restless" and "a diversion!".
Can just see it, I wake up tired and running late and say "Oh, morning, Legolas, let's have some tea and a slice or two or toast, perhaps with that nice marmalade [mmm... it's so nice, that marmalade], before I head off to start my day" and he would say, in the manner of one making an insightful observation, as if he was really contributing: "breakfast!".
And then I feel that there is a very real danger that I would bash its head in with the kettle, especially if I was tired.
Also, feel that surfing down the steps on a chopping board might wear thin, as well as being bad for the stairs. And now I come to think of it, our street has lots of cats in it. Can just imagine myself coming home to find that the elf and half a dozen felines are on the roof, unable to descend, having engaged in petty one-up-man-ship all afternoon, to see who is the most graceful and agile and so on.
Perhaps had best not get one after all. Probably a good thing they don't exist, on the whole.
D'you know, I bought myself a $5 stem of orchids on Mothers' Day, which was like, what, 5 weeks ago? Around the time of Cave Quest. Oh, just made Cat check, 4 weeks ago. Anyway, it's still on my desk, mostly alive and looking good. Yay for flowers.
Speaking of "stuff" which is good, this week is Avarice Week, the last in our seven deadly sins series. The suggestion that we try the corresponding virtues next (charity, chastity, humility etc.) was universally shouted down at the board meeting. Serious consideration is being given to either doing the sins again, or possibly thinking up cool new sins to roadtest. Giving things to me isn't a sin, per se, and indeed, is recommended by doctors everywhere as an excellent cure for all sorts of things, but perhaps we should devote a week to that?
Anway, in the spirit of avariciousness, or rather acquisitiveness, (not inquisitiveness, which is wanting to enquire, but wanting to acquire stuff. Pay attention, people), I'm putting out the call: give me stuff, please. Specifically, nice stuff that I want. If you have no ideas, apply to me for suggestions and inspiration.
Ooh, you know what I want? Muppet Treasure Island. And the new Coldplay CD. And possibly a functioning DVD player. If this seems expensive, possibly a few of you IB fans could club together? Dig deep, people.
This is the last week of semester, which means that I have to go to all my lectures and tutorials, because I'd be a fool to miss the last, possibly vital, class of any subject. As a result, I was in my dull History and Philosophy of Psychology lecture today, not paying attention, which I should have been doing, since the exams aren't multiple choice this year [dammit]. And the guy from my tutorial who wore a Whitlams Torch the Moon shirt that one time was behind me, so I spent the lecture writing Whitlams lyrics in my notebook in large, clear letters. Not [just] to impress the WhitlamsShirtGuy, you understand, but because now I get the songs stuck in my head whenever I see him.
Also, am becoming adept at doing the Sudoku in the paper. Not as adept as Ivy, mind you, who is Freakishly Skilled at all back-of-the-paper entertainments, she always gets both crosswords, the Sudoku and the target with startling rapidity. I imagine she even reads the comics well. I suspect her of being some kind of quite nice robot. That would explain a lot... well, you know, it would explain that, anyway.
I wonder when my Latin take-home will be? Call me a pedant, if you will, but I really think that the last day of semester, the last class of semester, is rather late to be setting the exam date. On upside, my latin lecturer is rather amusing.
Anyway, on with your lives people, I shall write again anon.
*waits for inspiration to strike*
[I tell you, you give these fans an inch, they take a mile. Such liberty-taking. tsk tsk.]
So, have been re-reading the Owner's Guides ( http://www.henneth-annun.net/stories/story_sort.cfm?STAuthorID=664&CSCharID=0&STCategoryID=0&STGenreID=0 ) for the LOTR characters. Really want a Legolas. Mk II, obviously. [for those of you who are either under 16 or related to me, do not read the other stories by Theresa Green, or I shall have to shake my finger at you sternly. And don't think I won't.] The Mk II ones are the movie ones, you see, rather than the book versions.
On the other hand, a choice of the Mk I would make me seem to have more integrity [I want to say "make me seem more intergitous" but this is not, to my knowledge, a word, unfortunately], but really, the new ones are so shiny. And I could dress it as a pirate on special occasions. Ooh...
On the downside, feel that this could be detrimental to my relationship with boyfriend, as bound to be unreasonable about my setting it to "slash", as would inevitably do. Also feel that would shortly go mad and smash it with a hammer, what with it nancing about saying things like "the horses are quiet and the men are restless" and "a diversion!".
Can just see it, I wake up tired and running late and say "Oh, morning, Legolas, let's have some tea and a slice or two or toast, perhaps with that nice marmalade [mmm... it's so nice, that marmalade], before I head off to start my day" and he would say, in the manner of one making an insightful observation, as if he was really contributing: "breakfast!".
And then I feel that there is a very real danger that I would bash its head in with the kettle, especially if I was tired.
Also, feel that surfing down the steps on a chopping board might wear thin, as well as being bad for the stairs. And now I come to think of it, our street has lots of cats in it. Can just imagine myself coming home to find that the elf and half a dozen felines are on the roof, unable to descend, having engaged in petty one-up-man-ship all afternoon, to see who is the most graceful and agile and so on.
Perhaps had best not get one after all. Probably a good thing they don't exist, on the whole.
D'you know, I bought myself a $5 stem of orchids on Mothers' Day, which was like, what, 5 weeks ago? Around the time of Cave Quest. Oh, just made Cat check, 4 weeks ago. Anyway, it's still on my desk, mostly alive and looking good. Yay for flowers.
Speaking of "stuff" which is good, this week is Avarice Week, the last in our seven deadly sins series. The suggestion that we try the corresponding virtues next (charity, chastity, humility etc.) was universally shouted down at the board meeting. Serious consideration is being given to either doing the sins again, or possibly thinking up cool new sins to roadtest. Giving things to me isn't a sin, per se, and indeed, is recommended by doctors everywhere as an excellent cure for all sorts of things, but perhaps we should devote a week to that?
Anway, in the spirit of avariciousness, or rather acquisitiveness, (not inquisitiveness, which is wanting to enquire, but wanting to acquire stuff. Pay attention, people), I'm putting out the call: give me stuff, please. Specifically, nice stuff that I want. If you have no ideas, apply to me for suggestions and inspiration.
Ooh, you know what I want? Muppet Treasure Island. And the new Coldplay CD. And possibly a functioning DVD player. If this seems expensive, possibly a few of you IB fans could club together? Dig deep, people.
This is the last week of semester, which means that I have to go to all my lectures and tutorials, because I'd be a fool to miss the last, possibly vital, class of any subject. As a result, I was in my dull History and Philosophy of Psychology lecture today, not paying attention, which I should have been doing, since the exams aren't multiple choice this year [dammit]. And the guy from my tutorial who wore a Whitlams Torch the Moon shirt that one time was behind me, so I spent the lecture writing Whitlams lyrics in my notebook in large, clear letters. Not [just] to impress the WhitlamsShirtGuy, you understand, but because now I get the songs stuck in my head whenever I see him.
Also, am becoming adept at doing the Sudoku in the paper. Not as adept as Ivy, mind you, who is Freakishly Skilled at all back-of-the-paper entertainments, she always gets both crosswords, the Sudoku and the target with startling rapidity. I imagine she even reads the comics well. I suspect her of being some kind of quite nice robot. That would explain a lot... well, you know, it would explain that, anyway.
I wonder when my Latin take-home will be? Call me a pedant, if you will, but I really think that the last day of semester, the last class of semester, is rather late to be setting the exam date. On upside, my latin lecturer is rather amusing.
Anyway, on with your lives people, I shall write again anon.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
An introspective post: full of contradictions
So, I was asked yesterday what I thought my worst trait was. At the time I failed to come up with anything (not out of supreme arrogance, [solely] but rather complete lack of inspiration, and a feeling that this line of thought went nowhere fun), but I've been wondering today. Apart from inability to answer such questions with satisfactory rapididty, what is there? Probably my unpredicatable temper, linked to my tendency to get ridiculously stressed about trivial things. (1,500 words about a terrible day that wasn't really all that bad, anyone?).
Possibly the reason I'm writing this is because of the latin exam I have tomorrow. Perhaps should add chronic ... dammit, what's the word, begins with a p... I keep thinking propagandisation, but actually it's....procrastination! Yes. Procrastination. And possibly failure to edit out the texual equivalents of "um" from these posts.
I'm probably too confident, and instead of balancing that with a smooth mix of humility, I have sudden unexpected patches of shyness and bashfulness. I don't know how to plan to meet people. (yeah, sorry Tim, I'll work on that)
And my desk is always a mess. Although I just cleaned mine off for the first time this semester. It had a surprising amount of sewing stuff on it. Who knew I needed so many needles? The kinds with eyes, not the syringe variety.
Hmmm... which leads me to my possibly excessively concrete worldview. That's possibly bad.
I am against drugs. Both illicit drugs and cigarettes, and alcohol in excessive quantities, although I'm not a teetotaller. I've never tried any of those drugs which I say I'm against, so maybe I'm judging without knowing, but equally, if I had, I'd be a hypocrite. I'm not going to.
I'm not going to gamble my future on something like that. What if I really liked them?
I have an addictive personality, I think. I can barely afford to support my caffeine habit. Do you have any idea how expensive cigarettes are?
And don't even get me started on drugs which you inject [I know you haven't, and this is just me soliloquizing, so sorry if you're yelling "no, not this a-sodding-gain!" at your computers right now]. But how dumb do you need to be? First off, I have serious doubts about my ability to hit vein, and intramuscular injections hurt for days. Secondly, damn near anything injected into a vein will kill you, even what you think you've paid for, if you get the dose wrong. And who's to say that's what it'll even be?
Detergent is cheaper than heroin, and who are you entrusting your life to? A drug dealer? A professional criminal, in fact?
I know they have a vested interest in keeping you alive, but it wouldn't be the first time.
Crime is bad, police are good, but I have no problem with burning CDs. Although I would find it very hard to forgive shoplifting, of a CD for instance. I'm not sure what the difference is, but there you go.
I don't like tattoos. At all. They always age badly, and you need to allow yourself room to change/grow/mature. Sure celtic knots and chinese symbols are hot right now, but don't you feel for those people who got swastika tattoos back when they were a symbol of peaceful religion and so on, when they first saw Hitler's hakenkreuz?
I love the sea, especially swimming in a really big, potentially life-threatening surf (because I'm dim and over-confident. Damn near drowned this summer, in a rip. Was v. exciting). Conversely, there isn't enough money in the world to get me to bungee jump, or skydive, or similar. And I hate those fairground wonderland-style rides that are all about scaring you and making you want to throw up. I absolutely fail to see the appeal of the slingshot thing.
I hate homophobia. Really. I mean for heaven's sake, what does it cost you? Don't give me that "unnatural" crap. Bonobo monkeys, humans' nearest relatives, are universally bisexual. And against religion? Sodom and Gomorrah? Eating meat on a Friday used to be punishable by stoning. Having affairs is against a commandment, and adulterers aren't discriminated against to nearly the same level.
Ridiculously, after all this, I'm not a fan of real conviction. (not in the legal sense, although I'm against the death sentence: people make mistakes) People who really really believe in something with a passion sort of annoy me [yeah, hypocritical again, I know]. This goes for religion, politics, you name it. Have the urge to tell activists to chill out. Should perhaps personally chill out?
I am not religious. Not in a "gee, I dunno.... sin seems bad, I guess, but I just don't want to commit to the one belief-set, y'know?" way, but in more your solid faith atheist way. There's no point in tryiong to convert me. In much the same way that trying to convert a muslim or buddhist is out of line. I have no faith. I don't believe in God, Santa Claus, or any other magical/magical-equivalent beings, benevolent or otherwise. I have no problem with you believing in them. I respect your ability to do so. I'd quite like to believe in a greater benevolent power, but I don't. Same as Santa Claus and magic.
Actually, and here I'll go a little Dogma, I vividly remember when I lost my faith. I was somewhere between 5 and 7. I was in the kitchen. I'd lost a tooth, and asked my mother whether the tooth fairy existed. She assented/hedged. I demanded to be told the truth. She admitted that there was no tooth fairy. And just then I realised. There was no tooth fairy. There was no Easter Bunny. There was no Santa. There was no magic. There was no God or angels. There was just reality. I cried for about half an hour. How adorably sad. *sigh*
Maybe it would've been nice to hang on to an illusion or two, but so it goes, I guess. Did try to be religious at school (was a religious school, after all), but found myself unable to really believe it. Did try, honest. Was disappointed when failed.
Feel vaguely jealous of people who are comforted by their faith, but irritated when they try and talk me into it. Is rather like being out at a bar or something with friends, when all of them have adoring but invisible boyfriends, but you don't. You don't believe it, but you can see that it would be nice to. If that makes any sense as an analogy. [Feel however that am comfortable with own company, and enjoy being by myself. Also v. much love my friends. Just to clarify that this is only an analogy.]
What else? I never knowingly betray a secret. Ever. If told something in confidence, I do not tell anyone else. This doesn't hold for things which I am not told in confidence. I do [I hate the word 'gossip', but...] gossip. So I'm happy to go home and disect a party or whatever, I hav no objections to taking about people who aren't there. Mainly because what else is there to talk about but people?
So what does that make me? A brave coward, a staunchly faithful atheist, a hypocritically law-abiding committer of very petty crime and a strong believer in not believing things too strongly.
Ah, adolescence. It's a good thing I'm writing this down, I turn 20 in 2 months, I won't know everything for very long.
Oh well, at least I have a [very] little insight, a sense of irony, and the ability to laugh at myself. There's hope for me yet, I guess.
Possibly the reason I'm writing this is because of the latin exam I have tomorrow. Perhaps should add chronic ... dammit, what's the word, begins with a p... I keep thinking propagandisation, but actually it's....procrastination! Yes. Procrastination. And possibly failure to edit out the texual equivalents of "um" from these posts.
I'm probably too confident, and instead of balancing that with a smooth mix of humility, I have sudden unexpected patches of shyness and bashfulness. I don't know how to plan to meet people. (yeah, sorry Tim, I'll work on that)
And my desk is always a mess. Although I just cleaned mine off for the first time this semester. It had a surprising amount of sewing stuff on it. Who knew I needed so many needles? The kinds with eyes, not the syringe variety.
Hmmm... which leads me to my possibly excessively concrete worldview. That's possibly bad.
I am against drugs. Both illicit drugs and cigarettes, and alcohol in excessive quantities, although I'm not a teetotaller. I've never tried any of those drugs which I say I'm against, so maybe I'm judging without knowing, but equally, if I had, I'd be a hypocrite. I'm not going to.
I'm not going to gamble my future on something like that. What if I really liked them?
I have an addictive personality, I think. I can barely afford to support my caffeine habit. Do you have any idea how expensive cigarettes are?
And don't even get me started on drugs which you inject [I know you haven't, and this is just me soliloquizing, so sorry if you're yelling "no, not this a-sodding-gain!" at your computers right now]. But how dumb do you need to be? First off, I have serious doubts about my ability to hit vein, and intramuscular injections hurt for days. Secondly, damn near anything injected into a vein will kill you, even what you think you've paid for, if you get the dose wrong. And who's to say that's what it'll even be?
Detergent is cheaper than heroin, and who are you entrusting your life to? A drug dealer? A professional criminal, in fact?
I know they have a vested interest in keeping you alive, but it wouldn't be the first time.
Crime is bad, police are good, but I have no problem with burning CDs. Although I would find it very hard to forgive shoplifting, of a CD for instance. I'm not sure what the difference is, but there you go.
I don't like tattoos. At all. They always age badly, and you need to allow yourself room to change/grow/mature. Sure celtic knots and chinese symbols are hot right now, but don't you feel for those people who got swastika tattoos back when they were a symbol of peaceful religion and so on, when they first saw Hitler's hakenkreuz?
I love the sea, especially swimming in a really big, potentially life-threatening surf (because I'm dim and over-confident. Damn near drowned this summer, in a rip. Was v. exciting). Conversely, there isn't enough money in the world to get me to bungee jump, or skydive, or similar. And I hate those fairground wonderland-style rides that are all about scaring you and making you want to throw up. I absolutely fail to see the appeal of the slingshot thing.
I hate homophobia. Really. I mean for heaven's sake, what does it cost you? Don't give me that "unnatural" crap. Bonobo monkeys, humans' nearest relatives, are universally bisexual. And against religion? Sodom and Gomorrah? Eating meat on a Friday used to be punishable by stoning. Having affairs is against a commandment, and adulterers aren't discriminated against to nearly the same level.
Ridiculously, after all this, I'm not a fan of real conviction. (not in the legal sense, although I'm against the death sentence: people make mistakes) People who really really believe in something with a passion sort of annoy me [yeah, hypocritical again, I know]. This goes for religion, politics, you name it. Have the urge to tell activists to chill out. Should perhaps personally chill out?
I am not religious. Not in a "gee, I dunno.... sin seems bad, I guess, but I just don't want to commit to the one belief-set, y'know?" way, but in more your solid faith atheist way. There's no point in tryiong to convert me. In much the same way that trying to convert a muslim or buddhist is out of line. I have no faith. I don't believe in God, Santa Claus, or any other magical/magical-equivalent beings, benevolent or otherwise. I have no problem with you believing in them. I respect your ability to do so. I'd quite like to believe in a greater benevolent power, but I don't. Same as Santa Claus and magic.
Actually, and here I'll go a little Dogma, I vividly remember when I lost my faith. I was somewhere between 5 and 7. I was in the kitchen. I'd lost a tooth, and asked my mother whether the tooth fairy existed. She assented/hedged. I demanded to be told the truth. She admitted that there was no tooth fairy. And just then I realised. There was no tooth fairy. There was no Easter Bunny. There was no Santa. There was no magic. There was no God or angels. There was just reality. I cried for about half an hour. How adorably sad. *sigh*
Maybe it would've been nice to hang on to an illusion or two, but so it goes, I guess. Did try to be religious at school (was a religious school, after all), but found myself unable to really believe it. Did try, honest. Was disappointed when failed.
Feel vaguely jealous of people who are comforted by their faith, but irritated when they try and talk me into it. Is rather like being out at a bar or something with friends, when all of them have adoring but invisible boyfriends, but you don't. You don't believe it, but you can see that it would be nice to. If that makes any sense as an analogy. [Feel however that am comfortable with own company, and enjoy being by myself. Also v. much love my friends. Just to clarify that this is only an analogy.]
What else? I never knowingly betray a secret. Ever. If told something in confidence, I do not tell anyone else. This doesn't hold for things which I am not told in confidence. I do [I hate the word 'gossip', but...] gossip. So I'm happy to go home and disect a party or whatever, I hav no objections to taking about people who aren't there. Mainly because what else is there to talk about but people?
So what does that make me? A brave coward, a staunchly faithful atheist, a hypocritically law-abiding committer of very petty crime and a strong believer in not believing things too strongly.
Ah, adolescence. It's a good thing I'm writing this down, I turn 20 in 2 months, I won't know everything for very long.
Oh well, at least I have a [very] little insight, a sense of irony, and the ability to laugh at myself. There's hope for me yet, I guess.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Sleepy in nice room
Was up til 5 last night, so dhould sleep, but just wanted to say that I've finally cleaned my room, mostly. Yay. Looks so much better and bigger. Also, I moved my candelabrum toa more sensible position.
Still have nowhere for my dirty clothes basket, though.
Also, in celebration/consolation re. beginning of winter, have put flannelette sheets on bed, so warm and toasty. And am wearing satin PJs, so its all slidy. Hehe... *squits around bed in newish PJs like soap in a bathtub*
What a strange thing to post.
[Sorry about the pics Jazz, can take them down if you like. Forgot that they weren't mine, as am dim. More than happyto do whatever you like about them, though.]
Oh, also Kathryn visited,which was nice. Instead of telling you about it, though, will sleep. Goodnight, oh audience.
Still have nowhere for my dirty clothes basket, though.
Also, in celebration/consolation re. beginning of winter, have put flannelette sheets on bed, so warm and toasty. And am wearing satin PJs, so its all slidy. Hehe... *squits around bed in newish PJs like soap in a bathtub*
What a strange thing to post.
[Sorry about the pics Jazz, can take them down if you like. Forgot that they weren't mine, as am dim. More than happyto do whatever you like about them, though.]
Oh, also Kathryn visited,which was nice. Instead of telling you about it, though, will sleep. Goodnight, oh audience.
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