Bye-bye baby! I'm now going to move over to my new LJ, so re-friend me, bitches.  (If you happen to be in another country right now, you are forgiven.)

I am lame. LAME. I've wasted my study leave so far, dammit. I could have gone for a nice, quiet drink in some cozy pub tonight but the study guilt overwhelmed me. And it's not like I ended up studying tonight anyway. All I've done this week is have coffee and work. Although I did work out a couple of things:

- One of my favourite things in the world is seeing old couples having conversations. Even better are old couples having a debate. Think about it - how often do you see that? Usually they're just being resentful or silent, or possibly even silently resentful. It's nice to think that after fifty years together, they can still manage to be that interesting to each other.

- Jennifer Aniston's stylist invented the Rachel to hide her MASSIVE MANLY JAW. Okay, I've maintained that she has an abnormally-sized jaw for a while now, but never before have I made the link between her trademark layers and equally-trademark masculinity.

I also got me a new LJ. I haven't added anybody (or done anything at all) yet but will probably do so over the weekend, as the procrastination seizes me. I'm not posting the username up on here due to lurkers, so keep an eye out for me. I'd like to keep my friends list intact, after all.

 

 

At last, study leave is upon us. Thank God that semester's over. We decided to celebrate in high style and went to see Dos Gringos on Saturday night, as part of the Comedy Fest. For those of you who don't know, the basic premise of the show goes thusly: two brothers born in Westport are raised as Mexicans by their crazy mother. They then go on to drag Justin and myself onto the stage.

Yep. Cool. I got off lightly - all I had to do was play along to their little intro song at the start, then endure a serenade at the end. Justin, however, ended up wearing a wig and giving the kiss of life to a man. (Well, a stage kiss-of-life. But that doesn't sound nearly as fun.)

I HATE STICKY keys or filter keys or whatever i just put on< it fucks up my keyboard something royal> no full stops< as you can tell> so this has to be cut short< i"m afraid>

Went to X-Men 3 with Mike and Dave last night. S'okay. You kind of enjoy it while you're watching it, but you're still very aware of just how lame you're going to find it an hour after you leave the theatre. After that was drinks at Josh's, where I got fucking angry. But I held it in, so I win. (I have a wandering apostrophe tonight. It refuses to denote the correct meaning: "drink's at Joshes", for instance.) Anyway, tonight was spent at home. What little sleep I could have had last night was thrown to the wind in favour of brooding. 

The point of this post is really for F and Kate so that we could organise semi-regular coffee. My uni schedule next semester is as follows: 

Mon 12-2 
Tuesday 10-2 
Wednesday 11-3 
Thursday 12-2 
Friday 11-2 

I'm going to try and schedule my remaining tutorials for Thursdays before I start work at 4, but that's a pretty good estimate of what my timetable will look like. Anyone else who wants to be slotted in let me know.

I can't believe this cold and bitter month is almost at an end. I'm nearly halfway through the year and I've made no progress in any of my grand plans. Many modifications, but these are usually due to the aforementioned lack of progress. EG, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to postpone going back home until April 2007. At least then I'll be around my family for my 21st, but I wanted to visit the farm & the Cape in the summer.

I've also had to start thinking about my degree and my career. I've never had to worry about my future, because I've always had The Plan. (ie study psychology, become a psychologist.) I never thought it through deeper than that. Now, I realise there's things like prerequisites and GPAs and Honours and everything. So my free hour today was spent perusing the prospectuses (prospectii?) from the Arts Students' Centre. It irks me to think that I won't be finished next year after all, but in all honesty, I'd go postal if I worked at Pascoes for the rest of my life. My manager already wants to retire, and she's only in her early thirties. Not that studying for the next three of four years holds much appeal for me either, but I figure it's the only way I'm going to get anywhere I'd be satisfied being. It's odd, but when I think about it, this is the first thing in my entire life that I've had to figure out properly for myself. I never ask questions, I just assume someone will expain it somewhere along the way if it's important enough. Similarly, I never looked for a job or a flat, not really; they've always just come to me.

I had so much sugar and caffeine yesterday that I started randomly talking to a person in my critical analysis English tutorial. This never happens. For some reason, I always get so shy in tutorials and lectures, unless I know the tutor well. But the poor bastard probably didn't know what was going on; he got the full hyped-up May-babble. Terrifying.

"The concept of 'self' relates to a process both of confirmation and restriction. While knowledge of the self authenticates our narratives, instilling in us a sense of relevance and comprehension of the events we bear witness to, it also acts to limit our understanding and comprehensions of the greater narrative of being; by personalising our experience, it colours it."

This is the most comprehensible of the drivel I spouted out for 323. DO NOT STUDY MODERN AMERICAN POETRY, IT IS IN FACT POST-MODERN AND THEREFORE FUCKING CRAP (never trust oxymoronic genres).

And now, a paragraph from somebody's critical analysis research essay. This one's on the evils of television; this paragraph, from what I can gather, is specifically about infomercials.

"Some generally finds these entertaining, why does every one else watch them. No particular reason. If it has been watched once why watch it again. Should we not experience more life than watch other renditions of it on reality T.V, or a fantasy life someone has invented for your viewing pleasure? Why is the TV the focal point of the lay out of our furniture? Why is it bad for us to veg out in front of the TV, it is no bodies business but our own of what we do with our leisure time. Have you ever thought how your body is actually reacting while you are in your ‘veging’ out state in front of the television set?"

And the entire fucking essay is like that. It's all questions, and terribly unacademic. Catherine, I know your eyes are shrivelling in their sockets right now. Just remember, kids: if this person is in fact a second year, they are one of the first products of NCEA. Yep. Chilling.

Kura makes delicious wee chicken-tempura dumpling thingies. But I'm terrified beyond belief of getting food poisoning again. 

Ever noticed how when you try to be honest, straight-up and grown-up about shit, people will accuse you of being a drama queen? I think it's because they hate the thought that something could be solved without drama, so they bring a little bit back in. 

I've been marking essays for 257 today. It is a heinous task. I honestly can't believe that some people have such an incompetent grasp of English. I may post some examples at some point (since I'm not actually a tutor, and not actually marking stuff, I'm not bound by any code of ethics).

: : Edit : : Just got the official photos from my sister's wedding. You can tell she did that modelling stuff in her teens, the gorgeous 5'10" cow. Goddamnit, now how am I supposed to top that at my wedding? I don't even having a frigging groom, for a start.

I wrote another essay last night. I finished it at three. It's possible that I've lost the will to stress. I just feel nothing about that stuff anymore.

I picked up the last five hours I needed to make me a full-timer at my work. I'm on a bit of a high phase at the moment so it'll do me good to work off the energy.

I am full of popcorn. If you were to string me up and bash me like a pinata, I would explode buttery goodness all over you. (That's hot.)

And, because I am a mean, mean person: little Sophie Delezio, she of the exploding kindergarten car wreck, multiple burns and stubby wee appendages, got hit by a car last week. Sucks to be her.

I am the essay queen. I just wrote two essays in a little over 24 hours, and that was with important things like school, work and gym thrown in.

They are both utter crap but fuck that, it's 3500 words I'll never have to write again.

NOW I SLEEP