17:01 - Awake and and attentive during tutorial, chatty and talking faster than usual afterwards, met some nice Greek people in Nat's (chemistry tutorial group) flat on parade.
Side note its funny watching Greek people who haven't acclimatised to English weather (mwahaha, that's what you get for living in a hot country)!
Will now go to last lecture of the day, hopefully energy levels will not sharply drop during the oncoming lecture, leaving me incapable of maintaining consciousness!
Giggidy giggidy! :D
18:33 - Energy lower - still perky all the way through lecture, got to play with liquid nitrogen at the end of the lecture ( UBER fun ). Hopefully caffeine low will not hit until I go to sleep.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Simon's Cat
Be ye a cat lover or not, take a gander at these...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s13dLaTIHSg&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s13dLaTIHSg&feature=related
Caffeination 4 d Nation
There has for about a week been a rather large can of ominously painted energy drink in the fridge, which no one has dared to drink. Today, I shall boldly attempt to consume, and note the effects of thon drink on my energy levels thoughout the day. Aparantly there is 28mg of caffeine per 100ml, this is a 500ml can, so a nice total of 140mg of caffeine. To put that in perspective:
Choc bar: 35mg
Coke: 45mg
Coffee: 80mg
Stay-awake pill: 100mg
This may, or may not, allow me to stay awake in the 4 hours of lectures and tutorials this afternoon.
Its time to 'Unleash the Beast!'
P.S. If I don't make it, tell my housemates... the kitchen is going to be a complete tip!
Note to self #1
When coughing violently in bed, make sure forehead is adequately away from the edge of the side table.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
BLEURGHK!
... is the exact phrase I used this morning as I rolled out of bed. The entirety of my nose,mouth and throat had been cemented with phlegm overnight. There's feeling rough, and then theres feeling rough as if you shaved with a cheesegrater...
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Ceilidh A.K.A Irish speed dating
Generally, as a human being, I try my utmost to avoid any event in life which could cause social embarrassment to befall me. But tonight, for lack of anything interesting to do, I decided to tag along with Phil and JD to Irish Dancing.
I followed P and JD sheepishly down to the cath soc, where we were led out of the university and into nearby Claverton's village hall.
Now, I haven't been in one of these halls since I was yeigh high, for birthday parties and confirmation sessions. As soon as I entered, I could almost imagine being back in junior school, pulling up a stool, with a handful of other kids and listening to biblical stories (or dancing around to awful cheesy songs and eating jelly and ice cream whilst playing stick the tail on the donkey).
However, this time, there was a band at one end of the hall, strumming out a fairly Irish beat as we looked around to size up the potential others we would be jigging with. To my surprise, (most of) the girls there were actually very good looking. The same could possibly be said for the guys, but seeing as I was there, I dragged the average look score down to a -3 (on a scale of 1-10).
Now really cheesy scripted jokes aside, the band, 'Haywire' were pretty good. The violinist I thought was amazing. I may be slightly biased, as I love the sound of violins, but still.
(Personally, 'Hayday' may have been a better name for their band as they were quite.... not young)
If dancing awkwardly in a room full of a whole bunch of random people you have never met wasn't daunting enough, being partnered up with a member of the opposite sex and then made to hold hands, dance (and try desperately to remember their name, even though you will switch partners in about 10 seconds and then have to try remember their name) whilst simultaneously not stepping on peoples feet, REALLY takes the biscuit (or did Phil take the biscuit *checks for a trail of crumbs leading to Phil's room*). It was basically speed dating for people who like to dance strangely to almost Irish music.
For my £7 entry fee, I also received a ploughman's dinner which consisted of bread, cheese, crisps, salad and some cherry tomatoes (yuck), and optional relishes and pickles (also yuck).
JD, saw thon (Don't say I never try to learn stuff) tomatoes as small spherical projectiles capable of being juggled, and subsequently I tried this too. Now, way back when, my mother always told me not to play with my food, and I gleefully obeyed. Oh, how wrong I was! Playing with your food may be bad table manners, but boy is it fun!
During this brief interlude of food, JD(being JD), managed to get talent scouted by the violinist (or something like that). Me (being me), came to the conclusion that some people are just innately awesome and opportunities like this are akin to me receiving junk mail in the post.
*warning* - From this point on the blog descends into the inner workings of my mind and possibly a side of me you would rather not read about... but I need somewhere to write this stuff .
Also at this point in time, I made another profound development in my cognitive processes: I am a depressive social leech. On my own, I am nigh on always depressed about something, around other people I can mask this (not particularly well) but enough that a smile will make it seem that nothing is wrong. This however leads me to be quiet and generally an unwilling participant in most social interactions.
The last few weeks I tried to change this, by emulating someone who is by defacto 'awesome'. This seemed to work, I was meeting new people, making new friends, learning new things and then I realised that no matter what I do I will always be me. Therefore, intrinsically boring, unhappy, unfulfilled and eternally lonely. Human contact is something I rarely experience, and to see the disgust on peoples faces (peoples initial reactions are clearly visible for a fraction of a second before they think about covering them up) when forced into holding hands with me is something that I may be projecting onto others (or not), but is still something that causes alot of pain.
Faith and hope are not things that I posses in vast amounts; I have little hope, and I have little faith, in myself and in others. Without either of these, chances are slim that I will ever meet anyone willing to overlook physical flaws, and with which I can connect on a deeper level.
In conclusion, this is why I will never go speed dating....
I followed P and JD sheepishly down to the cath soc, where we were led out of the university and into nearby Claverton's village hall.
Now, I haven't been in one of these halls since I was yeigh high, for birthday parties and confirmation sessions. As soon as I entered, I could almost imagine being back in junior school, pulling up a stool, with a handful of other kids and listening to biblical stories (or dancing around to awful cheesy songs and eating jelly and ice cream whilst playing stick the tail on the donkey).
However, this time, there was a band at one end of the hall, strumming out a fairly Irish beat as we looked around to size up the potential others we would be jigging with. To my surprise, (most of) the girls there were actually very good looking. The same could possibly be said for the guys, but seeing as I was there, I dragged the average look score down to a -3 (on a scale of 1-10).
Now really cheesy scripted jokes aside, the band, 'Haywire' were pretty good. The violinist I thought was amazing. I may be slightly biased, as I love the sound of violins, but still.
(Personally, 'Hayday' may have been a better name for their band as they were quite.... not young)
If dancing awkwardly in a room full of a whole bunch of random people you have never met wasn't daunting enough, being partnered up with a member of the opposite sex and then made to hold hands, dance (and try desperately to remember their name, even though you will switch partners in about 10 seconds and then have to try remember their name) whilst simultaneously not stepping on peoples feet, REALLY takes the biscuit (or did Phil take the biscuit *checks for a trail of crumbs leading to Phil's room*). It was basically speed dating for people who like to dance strangely to almost Irish music.
For my £7 entry fee, I also received a ploughman's dinner which consisted of bread, cheese, crisps, salad and some cherry tomatoes (yuck), and optional relishes and pickles (also yuck).
JD, saw thon (Don't say I never try to learn stuff) tomatoes as small spherical projectiles capable of being juggled, and subsequently I tried this too. Now, way back when, my mother always told me not to play with my food, and I gleefully obeyed. Oh, how wrong I was! Playing with your food may be bad table manners, but boy is it fun!
During this brief interlude of food, JD(being JD), managed to get talent scouted by the violinist (or something like that). Me (being me), came to the conclusion that some people are just innately awesome and opportunities like this are akin to me receiving junk mail in the post.
*warning* - From this point on the blog descends into the inner workings of my mind and possibly a side of me you would rather not read about... but I need somewhere to write this stuff .
Also at this point in time, I made another profound development in my cognitive processes: I am a depressive social leech. On my own, I am nigh on always depressed about something, around other people I can mask this (not particularly well) but enough that a smile will make it seem that nothing is wrong. This however leads me to be quiet and generally an unwilling participant in most social interactions.
The last few weeks I tried to change this, by emulating someone who is by defacto 'awesome'. This seemed to work, I was meeting new people, making new friends, learning new things and then I realised that no matter what I do I will always be me. Therefore, intrinsically boring, unhappy, unfulfilled and eternally lonely. Human contact is something I rarely experience, and to see the disgust on peoples faces (peoples initial reactions are clearly visible for a fraction of a second before they think about covering them up) when forced into holding hands with me is something that I may be projecting onto others (or not), but is still something that causes alot of pain.
Faith and hope are not things that I posses in vast amounts; I have little hope, and I have little faith, in myself and in others. Without either of these, chances are slim that I will ever meet anyone willing to overlook physical flaws, and with which I can connect on a deeper level.
In conclusion, this is why I will never go speed dating....
Monday, 5 October 2009
I have reason to believe one of my housemates is a...
... Pogonophile!!!!
My highly acute skills of deduction have deduced that at least one amongst our house is, in fact, a pogonophile. A person with an irrational love of facial hair. My suspicions were first alerted when a 'Beard competition' was announced by a certain housemate, who at this time will remain anonymous. We shall allocate said housemate a randomly selected letter of the alphabet to protect his identity: 'J'.
There are many reasons that have peeked my suspicions; we shall list them as follows.
- Housemate J, is known to bring up the subject in random social interactions, members of the Christian Society have witnessed the aforementioned behaviour whilst giving J free toast and another housemate we shall call 'P' can attest to this.
- J is known to be partially incapable of developing his own facial hair. This is yet to be confirmed as the stem of his psychological condition.
- Other housemates have been put under strict beard questioning which we will refer to as 'The Great Beard Inquisition of 2009'. J will gain as much information as to the facial hair behavior of other housemates, often lulling them into a false sense of security by showing them his sideburns. Housemates soon discover that these sideburns are in fact FALSE! Such lies from a trusted housemate, I was in total shock when I discovered this sordid secret for myself.
- J has also been spotted fraternising with many non housemates with ...interesting hairstyles and beards.
- The accused when question makes no attempt to disguise the fact that he likes facial hair...
... this readers, leads me to believe that J has no remorse! Authorities are yet to comment on these stunning revelations, and with the Pogonophile Register still under hot debate, there is clear uncertainty as to whether this perpetrator will get away with his crimes against innocent beards.
So readers, if you too have sizable facial hair and are travelling through the Eastwood area, make sure you are aware and...
...keep watching the skies!!!
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