Ho hum.

If anyone likes Peep Show but hasn't seen much of it, Play currently have the Series 1-5 box set for £14.99, which is an absolute uber bargain, keeping in mind individual series DVDs go for about £7-£8.

It's quite possibly one of the best telly-shows to have been produced, ever. Ever.

You owe yourself this.

Facebook users will know about the annoying adverts that pop up down the side. I've managed to get rid of them when using my laptop, but the shared PC at work means I have to put up with them*.

I quite like this one though:

*I know I could just not log onto Facebook, but that's stupid, so don't even bother saying it.

Teh laptop haz teh powahs.

I am win.

Today:

Went to work, answered the phone 29 times in three hours, started to twitch. Left work. Went to PC shop place. The man in it poked and prodded my laptop with instruments, then poked and prodded the cable with something else, and suddenly there were sparks, I screamed, he raised his eyebrows, and produced a new cable*, whereupon I handed over £45, and skipped out the shop. I then bought some steak, came home, tidied up, polished my windows, did the washing up, made fajitas with the steak, got fajita juice in my eye, cried, ate mini eggs...and now you're up to date.

So now I'm back

*It wasn't the plug-to-adapter end of the cable, or the adapter itself - it was the adapter-to-laptop end. No idea what was wrong with it. It had a meltdown. Technical term *nod*.

The laptop is still kaput, so I am on the PC in the Hall office. I'm taking mine to The Computer Man In A Shop on Monday. I'm hoping it is just a problem with the cable or the bit where you plug it in. If it isn't...argh. Can't think about that. £££££££££££.

All the students have now gone home for the Easter break so it is lovely and quiet everywhere. One arrived back from the train station earlier: "Can you let me back in my room? I forgot my clarinet!". Lameass.

The washing machines will be free at last! I can't keep buying socks. I also intend to spend the next couple of weeks using their showers and ovens. Ahhhh. Running water and non-fried, toasted or microwaved food. And non-Hall food. Ahhhh.

Actually, I don't want ANY food at the moment. Had a bit of a bleugh stomach bug. 5am-8am Saturday morning was spent sat on the bog, leaning over to barf in the sink. You know when you were a kid and when you were sick you were SIIIIIIICK and could fill the entire sink faster than it could drain away? Much like that. Very bizzare. I'd had toast for tea on Friday night. Maybe I am allergic to toast? That doesn't bear thinking about.

I went for an eyetest yesterday. My right eye, instead of getting worse as usual, has actually got better - apparently. I don't believe this. I worry I give the wrong answers on those tests. The green and red usually look the same to me. I guess which one should be clearer. Anyway, I said I won't be buying any new glasses even if I need them, the Optician shrugged and said "Fair enough!", and I'll be going back in 2 years instead of the usual 12 months. Woohoo all round.

Being broke but in desperate need of making a purchase to cheer myself up, I bought (from SALE racks, eugh) a black and white checked shirt, some smarter black jeans (as mine have nearly faded to blue), some brown leather sandals (£7 instead of £35!), and 2 albino corydora catfish. They're freaky, but cute. (They weren't in the sale. But only £2.)

I've put the 5 baby platys (5!) in a breeding net with a lump of moss. I'm not going to save anymore. Promise. Promise. Srsly.

The clock change has pissed me off. I was still awake at 1am watching a film, and then suddenly it became 2am, and I was sad. I was up at 11am today. Though it's really 10am. And now I'm hungry as it's 1.30pm. Though it's really 12.30pm. This train of though will last a few days at least.

Etc etc etc.

Ta ta.

My laptop isn't working.

Last night I was sat doing nothing online, as usual (though notably NOT on BCUK, seeing as I was STILL getting logged out), when up flashed a box saying "You have 4 minutes of battery juice left - I suggest you plug it in, sharpish", or words to that effect. But it was already plugged in. I checked every socket, fiddled around with things, screamed at it...but to no avail. Feeling very much like the pilot of small aircraft in the grip of a sudden power failure in the cockpit - only without the additional worry of impending mass human death - I watched helplessly as my laptop spazzed, flickered all its lights...and died.

And it wouldn't turn back on.

After gawping at the empty screen for a good 13 minutes, I flapped for a few seconds, before removing the battery and trying to power it up again. Still nothing. So, it's not the battery.

The only other thing I could think of to try was to go to bed. I went to bed. I tried to turn it on again this morning, but nothing. The adapter, having been plugged in all night anyway, was warm and ticking slightly. So, there's power to the adapter. So, it's not that.

So: it's the laptop.

Cue complete and utter freakout.

Now what?

Ring Daddy.

Rant down the phone at Daddy.

Daddy rings various computer places and gets opinions. Rings me back. "It's very unlikely to be the battery. It's probably not the cable, seeing as it's still warm and ticking and stuff. It's most likely the actual laptop. And seeing as the warranty has expired, it might just be cheaper to buy a new one."

And then, I burst out crying. And cry and cry and cry down the phone. Dad can't understand a word I'm saying, which is good, seeing as every other sentence started with "fucking thing".

But I wasn't really crying about the laptop. I'm phenomenally broke, which I don't want to talk about right this second.

So I won't be around much apart from when I'm at work, like now.

I have a headache.

In your kangaroo-smegma-covered FACE, Dunn!

USE. A FUCKING. MAP.

Argh! AARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!

This is not helping my rage!

At work in the morning.

Met my friend in town about 2.45pm, went for lunch, had a lovely catch up.

We went to see Lesbian Vampire Killers. Being 4.30pm on a weekday, there were only four of us in there. It would be very easy for some to call it shit, but it's not, it's fucking hilarious - but you'll only find it fucking hilarious if you like Gavin and Stacey, or Mat Horne and James Corden's comedy in general. It's very tongue in cheek. I imagine they had a budget about the same size as what's left in my overdraft so I think they did rather well. Still, I presume it will get massively slated, but I'm not interested in hearing why it's 'rubbish', so don't bother telling me. We both enjoyed it and giggled like lunatics all the way through it, eating, of all things, buttermints, which she'd bought by mistake instead of fudge. Dumbass. And James Corden is fucking hot. (I'm getting very angry right now - not sure why.)

Excellent trailers. New Star Trek film looks good, and the new Transformers, and, AND, finally seen the full length trailer for Harry Pottter and the Half Blood Prince. Held my breath the whole time it was on. Damn it looks good. Very excited.

Then another friend came over from Grimsby too and we went out for dinner and had lush pizzas. None of us had seen each other since Christmas. Had lots to talk about. Couple of drinks, not too many. Just right. Then he went home.

Other friend ended up staying over. We watched Peep Show and had nibbles and went to bed at 1am.

On Tuesday morning we watched This Morning and I cleaned the fish out while she had a cup of tea. Then I went to work and she continued on to the bus station and went home.

It was quite nice to be a normal human with a social life, if only for 24 hours. Doesn't happen very often.

The QI Elves Twittered this.

This man has the geekiest voice I've ever heard after Prof. Frink.

I bought Lucy.

There were pictures.

Etc.

Heh:

Been a funny few days...

Not in the mood for typing very much though, so you'll have to use your imaginations. Whatever you come up with will be far more interesting than anything I have actually done, I'm sure.

I bought my sister this for Easter.

Boooooooooobs.

I got my mum the praline version and my dad the fruit and nut version.

Heh. Six booooooooooobs.

God I'm mature.

I definitely would've got the essay finished earlier if three things hadn't happened:

1) Making The Best Egg And Bacon And Ketchup Ciabatta Sandwich Ever (perfection takes time).
2) The Dancing on Ice Final (I won)
3) Making jelly. Blackcurrant and lime. Blackcurrant flavour in the bowl, until it set, then ate some made some holes and poured lime flavour on top, filling the holes and creating a sexy layer of green. It looks like a frog accident, but still nommy. It was supposed to be for late-night essay scoffage, but, now that I've finished that...it will just have to be regular late-night scoffage. Win win, I say.

Pre-10pm finish on the essay. And it's even pretty bang on word-count target, at 2023, without having to do any major editing. (Kinda letting the side down, Row - sorry.)

No, it's not that good, but I've stopped caring whether anything is anymore - I'm intelligent enough to get an above-average mark on everything, and it doesn't matter what overall percentage I get at the end anyway.

*Print.*

Now I'm going to go and tidy my room, change my sheets, wash up, pick up all the dirty knickers, etc etc, because my oldest friend is coming to see me tomorrow, and staying over. She lives in Essex these days and it's very rare we get to see each other. Happy days

Ellen just posted this on her Twitter feed, and I very, very much enjoy it.

Lack of sleep last night has well and truly caught up with me. It's only 12.45am but it feels more like 4am.

I've only got 700 words to go on the essay, so I can easily get that done tomorrow. I know what I'm doing for the rest of it, which helps. Well, I've scrawled a few notes on a bit of paper - sort of a plan.

Worryingly, it seems very easy. It's essentially what I spent a year doing at A Level - comparing the attitude, tone, style etc of various articles covering the same case, and coming up with some conclusions about the expectations of the readership, i.e, thick as a plank working classes, or vaguely educated middle classes. Blah blah blah.

In fact, I distinctly remember doing the same for my GCSE English coursework, covering Jill Dando's murder.

I stayed up til gone midnight doing that too

Not much changes in nearly ten years. Gulp.

Entering waffle mode - nighty night.

The small gang of firestarters from earlier in the evening decided to relocate and build a small nest in the second common room, which, like all the other rooms they can vaguely entertain themselves in, is supposed to be locked at 11pm.

(I'm all for this being open all the time - it's nowhere near any bedrooms and they can't disturb anyone. Waste of a good room for them says I, but what do I know eh? Rules are rules!)

So the security guard goes to lock it and finds them all in there, in their pyjamas, with quilts, just about to watch a film (on a laptop - because obviously, the TV doesn't work), and one of them even has a cup of tea - although, another has a bottle of vodka, but we'll ignore him.

"Please can we stay in here? We're not being noisy! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?!"

"But...but...!"

"You DID put our fire out."

"That's true. Oh, alright. Because I put your fire out, you can have til 1am at the latest, then it's getting locked. And don't piss about or be noisy or bother anyone. And tidy up afterwards. I'll be checking."

"Yaaaaay! Thank you!"

Jeez. Whatever's gotten into me tonight? I feel like a kindly House Mistress at a boarding school.

Won't last, I'm sure.

All: "But whyyyyyy?"

Me: "Because The Boss wants you to put it out."

All: "So why did she send you?"

Me: "Why indeed? Because I'm on duty, she's sat in her living room up there *point* which the smoke is probably wafting into."

All: "Hahahahahahahaaaaa!" *students perform a 'Fire Dance' involving wafting the smoke towards The Boss's window*. I wait.

Me: "Can you pour some water on it now, please?"

Token Hall Geordie: "But whyyyyyyyyyyy? It's so cold out here. Our fire is warm, like!"

(No shit.)

Me: "*Sigh*. You have to put it out because it's a fire. It is one of those health and safety risks that's designed to stop you having any fun, as you well know. Not my rule. Just get on with it."

The Student Who Wore Flip-Flops And Surfing Cut-Offs All Winter: "Next time, we can get those loose paving slabs, put them out first, and build a fire on that. It won't spread, and -"

Me: "No, no no, sorry, there won't be a next time. Or at least, don't do it when me or The Boss are on duty, eh?"

Small Girl That Looks Twelve: "If we invite you next time, can we then call it a Supervised Fire?" *to the group* "We did a risk assessment form thing for the talent show, we can do one for this, [to me] can't we?"

Me: "I...Wha...No! Fill that bottle and put it out, it's bloody freezing out here!"

All groan.

Lots of steam and smoke.

Sad looking girl: "Do you feel bad now?"

Me: "Yeah. A bit. Night!"

At least I got to talk to some of them for longer than it takes to say "Have you left your key in your room, or lost it altogether?". Turns out that some of them are actually human after all!

I text The Boss to let her know. "Yeah, thanks. I was watching. I think I'll have to make an announcement about BBQs."

There's always a bloody announcement about something

Just been down to investigate a small fire in the grounds of the hall. The Boss was going to go down, but "She doesn't want to look like she's nagging them - again".

About 15 students, laying on blankets, toasting marshmallows in a small fire built in a disposable barbecue. Nice music playing. They all looked very happy - and sober, for once.

Not being noisy and screechy - 'just' playing with matches.

They've got til 9pm to have it put out - and I've been told by The Boss to also take a bucket of water with me to make sure. They groaned like kids having to put away their toys.

Hate having to be a party pooper, really.

Quite jealous as well.

1200 words to go. Not going to bed tonight.

He lives! Or, there were two! Baby fish in the castle!

...I'm going to leave it now and get back to you in due course. I fear this could get tiresome.

I have just watched Baby Fish leave the sanctuary of the Java moss nursery and advance along the back of the tank, hiding in pebbles. Impossibly cute.

Then an Endler saw it.

I banged the tank, but I fear it was too late. Gulp. Nom.

Well. That's that.

In other news, someone contact Poirot, because I haven't seen Captain Hastings and Inspector Japp for days. Call Miss Lemon, at least.

I'm going to stop watching the tank, now. It's far too stressful. It's like a Mexican soap opera.

This is VERY important. VERY.

(To me.)

My sunset platy got very fat last week. Then the next day she got very thin. This meant either babies were born, or she had a really massive shit.

I couldn't see any babies - I knew they'd all get eaten. I've been telling myself since I got them "Babies born shall be food, I can't raise anymore fish babies. Not after the goldfish debacle."

Of course, I had bought loads and loads of moss anyway already, just incase any babies did fall into it and survive...long shot...

But I have just seen a tiny, tiny baby fish. He/She is BRIGHT yellow, and so ridiculously tiny. But still a whole little fish!

I hope he doesn't get eaten. Well it would be helpful if it did. But I don't want it to. I was kind of hoping never to see any for this very reason. Covert fishy shagging, birth and cannibalism is fine, but I don't want to SEE it.

...or not.

I've a cheerful afternoon ahead of me.

Bed at 1.30am.

Church bells at 2am.

Half 2am.

Post-birthday party in the common room, students screaming down the corridor. Literally screaming, not shrieking. Doors. Bang. Bang. Bang. "Come in my room, birthday boy" - followed by more banging, one presumes. And it wasn't his girlfriend - she lives downstairs.

3am...

...dropped off at last!

...3.09am. Text from B - "I made £15 in tips and got chatted up by a tranny, 3 girls gave me their number, 4 girls wanted mine, and I got offered another job! On my first shift! I love this city."

...replied what was in my head: "Oh good for you. Now I'm going to try and go back to sleep, as 8 minutes wasn't quite enough."

...reply: "Love yooooou! x". She never believes I'm really mad with her about anything.

...hear no 3.30am bell!

4am bells.

4.30am bell.

...no 5am bells!

...Cramp. Motherfucking cramp in my calf. Agonising. Hopped around the room until it went away.

...5.30am bell.

Zzzzzz.

Dawn chorus. 6.15am. I shoot some birds and go back to bed.

7am bells. Buses.

8am alarm clock.

Up.

Go to unlock everything.

Do the post. There is lots of post. I hate doing the post.

On a plus note:

Surveying the carnage of the common room, post-party - Ministry of Sound Vodka, crates of Fosters, Jaques Cider bottles, digital cameras, a laptop, upturned chairs, fucking hundreds of balloons, streamers, porn, and very grim remains of kebabs - I spied the birthday cake. Looked like two giant brownies sandwiched with marshmallow and decorated with iced Mr Men characters. A large slice confirmed to me that it was indeed marshmallow. Very nice it was too, for a shop-bought. Breakfast.

So begins Saturday.

(Eep!)

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Very High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

A classic example of why I love flicking through Victorian newspapers.

After a very long, four column article on the case I am studying, these other stories were tacked onto the end. The first is at least relevant - murdered baby in a river - but the second is...not. It is not relevant.

(Reynolds's Newspaper, Sunday 26th April, 1896)

I've been invited to attend an Event on Facebook. 'Event'. It's called The Protest Day. Here's the general gist of it:

(Clicky for biggy if needy.)

That's right, folks. If you hate - HATE, LOATHE, DESPITE AND ABHOR - the new Facebook layout (if you've even noticed it), don't sign into your account "FOR A WHOLE 24 HOURS" on the aforementioned date, and see what happens. I predict one of two things -

1) Everyone involved shall be struck down as mute with webbed fingers and toes.
2) Nothing. Nothing AT ALL will happen. NO ONE, especially the FB developers, will notice, or care, or give a dove's fart, that a couple of thousand people haven't logged on for a day.

As you can see by my RSVP, I've decided not to risk it at all. I have declined my invitation.

Blah blah blah.

Fairly boring seminar today on Victorian ghost stories. Had potential to be interesting, but the people giving a ten minute introductory presentation to it managed to make it last an hour and they are as dull and thick as shit.

We have essays due back after they've been second marked - "You've all passed. They're fine" - said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Oh goody - we all got over 50% Obviously we're all thick as shit.

Essay due in on Monday. No, haven't started it yet. Don't nag.

My room is a fucking tip. Can't see the floor. Think I'll have to tidy it before I can do any work - I can't even find half of the 20 library books I haven't read *sigh*.

Been on duty all evening - two lockouts and one malfunctioning keycard, which I can't reset, as I still haven't been given a password for the key machine. I've only been here since September, give them time.

The crazy Russian druggie girl is back with her crazy drugged-up French boyfriend (who beats her). She was all lovely and healthy looking for months after she dumped him, but now within a week she has decided to crop her waist-length hair off into one of those stupid elfin-look haircuts, which, accompanied by her new grey, sweaty pallor and naturally anorexic-thin body, gives her a little bit of a prison camp look. Bloody drugs. She was doing so well. The French boyfriend is banned from the site, but that doesn't really make a difference - he's so lanky he can practically step over the gate.

Well, not much I can do about that.

Remind me to post Mother's Day card tomorrow. Wish I was going home, but on duty at weekend, and essay to do (remind me not to go to bed either).

Been making post-degree plans. Won't happen for about 18 months, but I'm still planning. I'm a bit excited. How silly - I'll probably forget all about it.

Lucy just put a whole beansprout in her pouch and the end is sticking out her mouth. Both cute and really gross. I'm going to put a towel over her cage.

I think all the students are going to be really, really noisy and naughty tonight

Fancy a cry. Meh.

[/random waffle]

I know when it's creeping up on me because, after years of careful observation, I know that at least two of the following will start to happen:

- I am suddenly unable to breathe properly or I start panting, like I've forgotten what to do to get air into me. This lasts a few minutes.

- I get dandruff just at my hairline, where my fringe starts and along the parting. Itchy.

- I start seeing things move out the corner of my eye, constantly. I have to check the room sometimes, just to be sure.

So far only the first and third are happening. For some reason it's the fecking dandruff that bothers me the most.

The girl I work with on Wednesday evenings wears the same perfume as B used to wear. It's really distinct.

This is affecting me. It affects me every week.

I'm going to go and sit in an empty study room for a little while.

I'm not into this - THIS *gestures madly at screen* - is all bollocks to me these days. The bullshit, the lies, the mess people get into, the hypocrisy, the falseness, the knowing, the false sentiments, the sluttyness hidden in innocence, the thinly veiled realities, the bollocks, the bollocks the bollocks the bollocks, and I hate that I make myself a part of it all. There is no online/offline anymore. Where is my reality?

I hate that there are people out there who read every word I type - on here, on Twitter, on Facebook. Not even just notice it - fucking go out of their way to find it. I hate the ridiculous internal debate that goes on in my head - "At what point does reading something public on the screen for all to see become an invasion of privacy?". 'Just stop using them' you may say. Not as easy as that anymore, is it? It's an addiction. And what else do I have?

I hate that I have to make things private, or not publish it at all. You know I hate doing the first - it's attention seeking to me. I hate doing the latter too - it feels horribly self-indulgant. No. Not indulgant. Like I'm looking at myself under a microscope. Like I'm looking over my own shoulder as I write. And god knows I hate it when people do that to me for real. I can't bear to read anything I've written in private.

I crave anonymity and yet I can't do it anymore. Since January I've made and burned five other blogs. I hated them. None of them feel the same as the one I had that got discovered. Even when I read that back, I cringe. Eugh. Such nonsense.

I'm not talking about friends, blogmeets, etc. I'm talking about the rest of it.

I hate that I have to justify that at all, before someone goes "Stop it, it's not all bad you know".

I hate how boring I have become. Boring, and bored, of everything.

Nobody knows me, not even the slightest, not anymore. Many think they do. They don't. I don't.

"You can't do this. You can't do that. My life is so much better than yours! And you're fucking stupid!". And they're right.

PS: Don't read this.

Not into this at the moment.

Lots to do. Lots to think about.

Ta ta.

*wees with laughter*

...and while my sister and I have already decided on a gift for out maternal figure (What we getting mum?" "Flowers, innit") there are still a plethora of potential presents out there.

Such as this.

Don't just treat your mum with this. Treat yourself. You deserve it.

These are my three new girls - aka Tux's Fishbitches:

This is Tux, the only bloke:

Here they are, swimming alongside him, willing to whore themselves at his command:

My very wee red girl with yellow fins (and my favourite):

My mickey mouse girl, the same as a male I returned - I can see babies inside her:

My sunset girl, pretty, but a bit blurry - she's really shy and hides most of the time.I think she went into shock from being caught and brought home on a bus. I am a bit worried about her, she isn't feeding:

Finally, Captain Hastings and Inspector Japp getting Ying Yang and freaky on the end of a leaf:

I had two hours of sleep last night. It was so noisy, people constantly arriving home and banging doors and shrieking and generally being cretinous.

I'm on duty today. All day. And all night.

Up since 8am. Illegal.

I want to go to sleep.

1) I probably should've clarified that I have washed and used half a bottle of Febreeze on the jeans numerous times. Thus I can only conclude that they are in fact actually made with fibres spun from milky baby vomit.

2) I'm not keen on Noel Fielding presenting Top of the Pops Does Comic Relief. He doesn't appear to give a shit about any of it, to be honest. You'd think he'd at least pretend. I was very keen on Nessa and Bryn, though. I've donated some monies.

3) Work was horrible.

4) I'm on duty tomorrow. 8am starts on Saturdays are illegal. That's a fact, I looked it up.

5) I might be off soon. Srsly!

1) I bought some jeans and from day one they have smelt of either baby milk, or baby sick. The smell just won't go away. I don't know what to do.

2) I remember knocking Simon Salmon's drink to the floor, being really horrified that I'd done it, but then it was ok because Vicky bought him another one. Ha!

3) On the subject of money and the other night: I went out with £5, took out £40 from cash machine, and came home with £35.55. I know the first round I bought was £7.60 - and it was not the only one. So help me out with those maths, please.

4) I love ham today.

5) I'm just about to catch my danios and one of the male platys - definitely the bully - and return them to the shop. I shall be coming home with three female platys. Yes, I will have LOTS of babies. No, I will not be saving them like I did the goldfish babies. I have learned my lesson. [cold, callous bitch] As they are born alive, I simply view this purchase as a plentiful supply of free live food for all the other fish. [/cold, callous bitch].

That's all.

...I know many will have seen this by now, but I have this favourited on YouTube and I have to watch it whenever I'm miserable, I bloody love it

He's so...smooth.

...is not how I would describe the inhabitants of this hall.

They're all pretty geeky and odd, to be honest.

However! In aid of Comic Relief, some of them have taken it upon themselves to organise their own version of Britain's Got Talent, to be hosted tomorrow night. I think they've managed to get about 13 people doing something, which doesn't sound many out of a possible 167 - but I suspect it will be quite enough.

The inhabitants of a room below-and-a-bit-along-the-corridor are currently rehearsing. I can't quite work out the precise nature of their act, but it features some drums and some very serious wailing.

(I have just taken a painkiller - I still have a hangover, and the church bells are going - I can't cope with noise as well.)

To add to the joyous occasion, the head wardens are also performing. One is doing a lil' acoustic number (he has always fancied himself to be a rock god at heart), and the other is performing Voulez-Vous Couchez Avec Moi with her 18 year old (alamingly voluptuous) daughter. Believe me, we want that to end up on YouTube. It will be epic, I'm sure.

Sadly - SADLY - I'm at work tomorrow night, so I shall miss the great event. All for a good cause and all that.

Not that I've bought a Red Nose.

But I am about to watch the Kilimanjaro thing on BBC1 - that kinda counts, right? Mmm, Cheryl.

Fingers crossed for me that it's a quiet duty night, and "HOPE BIG GAY SECUTIRY GUARD ISN'T ON SHE'LL TRY AND SLEEEP WITJ ME AGAIN". Ahem.

...was the SIMON SALMON one below.

Class.

A poof called Steven bought me a hotdog and called me fabulous.

He kept coming over for hugs and kisses. I always forgot who he was, but it didn't matter. Mwah, mwah.

(I didn't eat the hotdog. Left it on the bar.)

*crawls from bed to laptop in manner of scary girl from The Ring*

*reads a number of emailed comments regarding a drunken post*

*reads post in question*

*dies*

EUGH. I am horrendous. I am very sorry.

(I might have to delete it actually.)

Naturally, I remember nothing about last night - apart from Vicky phoning me at about half 3, and me singing Tina Turner to her, at a fair volume. I think we'd been dancing to that.

And yes - I have been phenomenally sick. Twice.

It hurts to blink.

I have a headache.

See you tomorrow.

WE GOT ATAXI WITH SIMON SALMON I DONT KNOW WHO HE IS HE GAVE ME £5 FOR THE TAXI IT WAS PLLENITIFUL

TOMORRROW IS WEDNESDAT I AM GONIG TO SLEEP

I SAW A STUDENT JUS NOW HIS NAME WAS LEE I EXPLAIN I HAVE NO IDEAWHO HE IS AND APOLOGISE FOR BEINTG SO DRUNK ON A TUESDAT

BLAME VICKY

I LOVE VICKY

I CANT SEE

I AM GOING TO EAT BEEF AND NOT GO TO UNI TOMORROW
FUCK - THE STUDENT WENT TO BUY ORANGEADE AND SAW ME LIKE THIS

HELOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"DONT TELL D SHE'LL GO OFF HER TITS"
HE WONT

THING IS
ON DUTY THURS

"HOPE BIG GAY SECUTIRY GUARD ISN'T ON SHE'LL TRY AND SLEEEP WITJ ME AGAIN"

IN FRONT OF STUDENT. PROFRESSIONAL.

AAAAAAAAAAAARGHJ TIME FOR BEEF MWAAH

idontknowwhy and I are going out for a small drinkypoos tonight. Both of us have an extortionate amount of uni work to do in a very short space of time. Nevermind - I am always in calm denial of this fact anyway, and now, post-mini-breakdown and a nice sleep, she is now in denial too. Maaaaarvellous.

Now, if I can just remember where it was that had the 'buy two glasses, get the rest of the bottle free' offer...

(I still find it weird that we both live in this random little village - and so does Chyna_Doll!)

As recently questionned by Scoobydoofus, this is the tracklist to the first ever CD I bought with my own pocket money - Now 31. You can find the tracklists to all the Now CDs here.

Don't Want To Forgive Me Now - Wet Wet Wet

A Girl Like You - Edwyn Collins

Common People (7' Edit) - Pulp

Alright - Supergrass

In The Summertime - Shaggy featuring Rayvon

Here Comes The Hotstepper - Ini Kamoze

3 Is Family - Dana Dawson

Right In The Night (Fall In Love With Music) - Jam & Spoon featuring Plavka

Hold My Body Tight (Radio 7' Edit) - East 17

Key To My Life (Radio Edit) - Boyzone

Kiss From A Rose - Seal

Days - Kirsty MacColl

One Man In My Heart - The Human League

Sour Times - Portishead

Some Might Say - Oasis

Buddy Holly - Weezer

Roll To Me - Del Amitri

I'm A Believer - EMF & Reeves & Mortimer

White Lines (Don't Do It) - Duran Duran feat. Mele Mel & Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five

Hurts So Good (Radio Edit) - Jimmy Somerville

Boom Boom Boom (UK Radio Edit) - The Outhere Brothers

I've Got A Little Something For You (Oji Remix) - MN8

This Is How We Do It (Radio Mix) - Montell Jordan

Shoot Me With Your Love (Loveland's Pop'd Up Mix) - D:Ream

I Need Your Loving (Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime) (Radio Edit) - Baby D

Keep Warm (Original Mix) - Jinny

Dreamer (7' Mix) - Livin' Joy

Think Of You (Radio Edit) - Whigfield

Whoomph! (There It Is) (Clock 10 To 2 Mix) - Clock

Humpin' Around (K Klassic Radio Mix) - Bobby Brown

Stuck On U (100% Radio Mix) - P J & Duncan

Love City Groove (7' Mix) - Love City Groove

Swing Low Sweet Chariot - Ladysmith Black Mambazo featuring China Black

Love Enuff (Maserati Up Tempo Mix Edit) - Soul II Soul

Get Your Hands Off My Man (Nush Radio Edit) - Junior Vasquez

Freedom (Radio 7') - Shiva

Your Loving Arms (Original Radio Edit) - Billie Ray Martin

I Need You (Eurostar Mix) - Deuce

Son Of A Gun - JX

Only Me - Hyperlogic

Christ almighty.

A few of those songs remain some of my favourite songs EVAH. This does not include The Outhere Brothers.

My choices:

a) Go to bed, or

b) Stay up and watch 'Elizabethtown':

Elizabethtown (2005)
A shoe designer is driven to despair when his career goes up in smoke. But when he learns his father has died, he abandons thoughts of suicide to return to his home town in Kentucky - where an encounter with a free-spirited air hostess inspires him to get his life back on track. Cameron Crowe's romantic comedy drama, starring Orlando Bloom, Kirsten Dunst and Susan Sarandon.

It's definitely fair to say that that short description contains almost all of my least favourite words.

Hmm.

Glass of wine and bed.

Oh, by the way. I fucking suck - I make my own skin crawl.

Grab your torch and pitchforks...

Do people still really genuinely like her? Am I the only one scared of her?

Show of hands, please.

I looked up my name at urbandictionary.com like everyone else is doing, because I am a sheep and can't be left out.

Laura:

-Sex on legs
-Tiger in the bedroom
-Waiscoast is TEH SEX [I have NO IDEA what this means. Literally none.]
-Adorable
-Possibly the rudest person you will EVER meet. [Yeah]
-Cute. END OF.

Meaning 'from the laurel flower'.
A beautiful name, in fact one of the best names ever. [Obviously.]

A young woman, typically associated with romantic themes. Though the name originally came from the Roman tradition of placing a wreath of laurels on victors' heads, it has developed more emotional ties in recent years.

A really really cool person;
Guys want her and girls want to be her.
Has many friends.
Everyone likes her, they don't only pretend to like her.
[This is incorrect.]

A laura is a being, typically female, with an overall good personality
-Lauras generally listen to good music and lack their own form of transportation [Yes, yes.]
-One major flaw some lauras possess is their failure to watch donnie darko as often as they should [Thrice yes]
-Although lauras have some faults, they are typically above average intelligence and liked by most [Why, yes!]

A type of Arabian rain dance that involves sucking on giant pandas while hopping on an oversized shmeeshnoggening radio. [The average Sunday.]

A girl that has a huge crush on fags [No, not me. Well ok, a bit.]

Holding in a burp walking across the room to burp in someone else's face. Usually done by a lesbian or one who is mistaken for a lesbian. [...Yep.]

I'm at work.

A guy on my course has just come over to say hello (this is progress indeed, believe me). He's incredibly posh. He looks like the ugly younger brother of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, only with worse hair (in a ponytail) and not nearly as cuddly.

"What are you up to?", he asks.

"Well other than being at work, I'm trying to read Romance of a Shop for next week."

"Ugh! It's frightful, it's nineteenth-century Jewish chick-lit."

"Yes, quite. What are you up to?"

"I'm trying to find my Arab."

"...Beg pardon?"

"My Arab. I can't find him."

"Oh, right! ...Do we all have one?"

"Ha! God, no. I'm doing this English Improvement scheme thing and I've been given an Arab. He said he'd meet me in the library. I hadn't reckoned on there being so many of them! I'm not being racist, but they all look the same! Oh - that might be him [he gestures at a man I know is Indian] he looks pretty lost. Bye!"

"*gape*"

My sister is a multifaceted character.

It's important to her to participate in many important projects and play an active role in the well being of others, especially if she can do it via Facebook while watching a cheesy film.

I've never even known her say 'facism' before. Although, she probably still hasn't actually said it...

Random train of thought:

Essay handed in, a day early. Such a novelty. Now feel at a bit of a loose end - I should be sat with my hands in my hair going "Aaaaaaarrrggggghhhhhhh these people are all fucking dead anyway" and eating chocolate raisins. Hey ho.

The Pineapple Book has been surreptitiously returned to the shelf from whence it came. I'm confident no one will touch it for at least a year...should smell pretty unique by then.

Had an interesting seminar on Lady Audley's Secret. Not interesting enough to make me want to write on it, though.

I don't have to worry about it for at least a year, but I'm starting to think about my dissertation. Not a title, just a topic. I'm thinking about representations of same-sex relationships, but not in purely a sexual sense. Friendships and platonic relationships that hint at something more but never become so. There's a lot of it in sister-sister relationships, and male-male friendships. Not just in literature, art too. Blah, I'm rabbiting.

On duty tonight but they're all really quiet at night lately so it should be ok. Apart from the fire alarm at midnight last night - from cooking something in a microwave! How long had it been in there?! I got to bellow a bit.

I think I'm going to have to ask my parents for a loan for my fees next year. Definitely a loan - I'm determined to pay for all of this myself, but the Bank of Parents doesn't have a 29.9% APR

It's occured to me that after I've handed my last essays in of the year, and then go to Ireland and Berlin, and all the students go home for the summer...I will have nothing to do until late September. I'll get lots of reading done, of course. But, not sure I can justify working part time over the summer though, but, I don't see me managing to get a full time job for a few months... meh, I'll think about it over Easter. Which is soon! Hurrah. Peace.

At work 2pm - 9pm tomorrow. Llwntflaps.

Builder's Breakfast crisps are definitely the nicest so far. I'd vote if I cared enough.

Going to continue to watch this thing on Darwin on BBC 2 now, and pretend I'm more intelligent than someone who cares about the flavour of crisps.

...which I now love.

WTF? More here.

I don't say very much on Facebook. You get people who have to comment inanely on everyone else's equally inane statii, but I do try my hardest to bite my tongue else I'd be on there all day.

My friend Heather recently wrote her car off and got a fair whacking from the airbag (I actually forgot to ask if she's ok, just asked her if she was on her mobile at the time. She's updating Facebook, so I assume she's ok). Bruises, etc.

Anyhoo, I couldn't let this particular one go. So I corrected her. It's like Tourette's, I can't help it. I knew she'd ignore it, and she has, and I don't mind. I corrected her. Exhaaaaaale.

It is the second person's comment that I am having severe difficulty in understanding. It's not just me, is it? That's not actually an English word?

Yadda yadda: The BBC believes most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here. How do your reading habits stack up?

Instructions:
Look at the list and put those you have read in bold and italicise the ones you own but haven't read yet (note, not just own and will never read ).

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien [Does this count as 3?]
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling [Surely counts as 7?]
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible [read bits of it...]
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare [Ok - not strictly all of them, but as far as I'm concerned if the ones you've read include Richard II and Titus Andronicus, you pass the test.]
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce [I can't believe I actually finished this]
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare [IS IN THE COMPLETE WORKS!]
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo [I've watched and bellowed to it often enough, though]

Final count: 45/100, which I consider woefully inadequate. There are many titles up there I want to read, but far too many of them have appeared on Richard and Judy's Book Club for my liking.

I decided to get my whole essay done last night. And I did. Go me. Bed at 4am

I can edit a copy tonight by hand at work, then hand in a copy tomorrow hopefully - a day ahead of the deadline! Go me again.

Of course, this leaves me frickin' shattered today. My long lie in was rudely interrupted by a few students deciding that they were going to have a street party. Inside. I have been treated to incredibly loud music ever since. I'm not too fussed, it's not like it's still 4am. My biggest problem is their taste - so far I've been treated to The Kooks, 'She Will Be Loved' by Maroon 5 on repeat, Coldplay, and now a very interesting selection of what I fear may actually be Donk.

Hang on...it's changing...wait...OK. Craig David Megamix. Something might have to be done afterall.

Oh - a platy died. It was very still and looked a bit meh, then SPAZZED AND SPLASHED EVERYWHERE, and then died. Fair enough. It was never quite right from when I bought it, always shy and never really fed well. Oh well. Shit happens.

That really is everything that's going on in my life. The rest of the day will be devoted to a seminar on John Atkinson Grimshaw, and then I'm at work til 10pm, and then I'm going to bed. Pre-midnight. What a novelty.

Bit glum

Spring is definitely in the air here in 'Ull. I can tell because the air has suddenly gone very wet and whips against my face and ruins my hair. We are entering the rainy season

More negative news - well, there's a bully in every fish tank and one of my platys has paid the price for not establishing himself as boss first. He now has a very swollen eye and horribly nipped fins. He looks very sad. I think the stress will kill him shortly. The culprit looks pleased with himself. The third just keeps out the way. Sensible.

I decided thirty seconds ago that I'm going to take all of my fish back (apart from the corys) and get some dwarf puffer fish. The bee is in the bonnet and I don't think it's planning on buzzing out anytime soon.

I haven't typed any of my essay yet. Due in Friday.

I had no more than 4 hours sleep last night. I'm not designed that way. I have a headache.

In more positive news, I've licked out my first creme egg of the year, and it was lush.

Going to take some caffeinated painkillers and do some work. Pluh and meh.

...geeks.

Here's a handy, helpful hint:

Never introduce a glass of pineapple juice and lemonade to a 161 year old book, especially if that book is due back at the library you work at in two days time.

I make no apology for the following language:

Ballsacks and cuntflaps and wankstains!!!!!!

Ahem.

*Dishcloth and radiator and MILD PANIC*

I've decided I'm going to return it, then immediately reshelve it myself. I think I'm the first person to have touched it in about twenty years judging from the dust, so I should get away with it.

I feel like I'm trying to hide a body.

"It's ok...breathe...no one will ever know..."

...about the time I looked out my window and saw a grey squirrel scampering along the ground with a whole, rather large onion in it's mouth?

No? Well I just did.

And now, post-supermarket trip, I have a bag of Cajun Squirrel crisps, and Onion Bhaji ones.

Food chain in action.

Here we are again. I've left a lot of work to the last minute, as usual.

Inabit.

To Do This:

1 - Go to "wikipedia." Hit “random”
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to "Random quotations"
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 - Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

...is on Channel 4 right now.

I used to luuuuurve this film, so I am watching it for a bit of 90s nostalgia. It came out in 1996 to be precise, when I was about 13.

I had a small obsession with Neve Campbell at the time. Didn't know why - I know why now, of course Ahh, the naivety of youth. Hindsight is a wonderful thing - as are highschool witches.

And it has Skeet Ulrich in!

...with a billion invitations from swarnmriga (who I am reluctant to label as a spammer - perhaps fisher is a better term), politely PM him, expressing your irritation. He was quite apologetic.

Of course, if he invites me again - AGAIN - I might not be so nice. It's nice to have an outlet for rage - healthy, even.

Also, if you are miffed with a student that won't stop whistling in a very shrill, tuneless way in the corridor outside your door at 4am, bellowing "WILL YOU SHUT UP?!" from the warmth of your bed has much the same effect as getting up and opening your door for a verbal exchange might have.

I also recommend 1pm lie-ins. Just because.