merry christmas

Tomorrow morning, I'm off to my parent's retirement haven in cow country... so this is my last chance to wish you all the most fantastic Christmas!

I plan to spend the big day eating too much, drinking too much and whipping my Dad's arse at any game he cares to challenge me to (aside from cribbage, which I think he's long since given up trying to teach me). And hey... it might even snow!

Have yourselves a wonderful day,

JJ.

finally, some good news...

... I have a new deadline! Supervisor Tom originally wanted the thesis submitted today (well, Monday 20th... I'm up late, again). The university shuts for the Christmas break on Thursday; after he called the research degree officer, he told me that if it was submitted on the last working day, it wouldn't be processed until January anyway. So, I'm now aiming for January 4th, which is rather more realistic!

I'm currently struggling to write the acknowledgements. For some people, I can naturally write glowing reports on how much they helped me... for other people, I'm having difficulties.

If anyone has any suggestions on polite ways to thank people that have pissed you off for three years of your life, they would be gratefully received ;-)

The only downside of this is that now I feel as though I cheated my sister out of chocolate and vodka!

panic stations

As I tried to get to sleep last night, I thought through everything I still have to do, and realised I'm probably screwed. The last possible date for submission is the 23rd, and that thought just fills me with dread. I still have so much to do...

Thankfully, my sister and brother-in-law just dropped by with Christmas presents to take down to my parents, along with another care package (well, a Sainsbury's bag) containing eleven bars of chocolate and a bottle of Absolut.

Thank you!!! Again...

deadlines and distractions.

Ok, so I have a deadline to finish writing my thesis, print the damn thing, bind it and submit it. Initially, this deadline was December 20th. I spoke to Tom, who agreed Tuesday would be OK... before helpfully pointing out that the university shuts for Christmas on Thursday 23rd (he'd checked... he knows me too well). I currently have the twin motivations of wanting to finish this before Christmas, and knowing if this takes any longer, we risk losing the funding for my post-doc position. It's a thought that kind of focuses the mind.

So basically, I have a week to finish writing the last experimental chapter, start writing the general discussion, and finish the main introduction. And make corrections. And sort out the references and the appendices.

I want to cry.

Something else that made me want to cry? "Dimebag" Darrell Abbott shot dead onstage... I hadn't heard Damageplan, but I loved Pantera, and I love gigs in small venues. It was a week ago, and I still can't think of anything to say that'll make sense.

RIP.

Holy anxiety attack, Batman!

So I head into the main department - yes, on a Sunday night - to print off the chapter that has so far caused me the biggest headache. I always knew it would be the largest of the experimental chapters, as it contains many, many images. It's currently over 100 pages, and I haven't even finished writing it yet.

Two things I know right now: I'm not going to be very popular with anyone who has to wade their way through it, and I can't breathe.

Shit.

a helpful supervisor...

I've spoken to Rob on a couple of occasions over the last week. Each time, he's been remarkably helpful and upbeat. He even apologised for sending me the corrections via the track changes tool on Word. Damn... now I feel guilty for calling him a prick.

bah bloody humbug?

Normally I get excited about Christmas. Growing up, it was always a big deal... My Mum would deck the halls not so much with boughs of holly, but just about anything she could find. The glitzier the better. The tree would always be in the bay window of the living room; adorned with beautifully home-made decorations, it was usually the best in the street. The presents were piled up underneath. Mountains of food were cooked. Aside from the occasional disaster (usually Whiskers the cat either climbing the tree or chewing the light wires), it was a fantastic time of year.

Even though Santa still visits, it hardly ever snows any more. Most of the family are either dead or spread out. Oh, and I have the small matter of a thesis to finish and submit by 20th December.

I know I should get out the tree, and try to enter into the festive spirit. I think I left the lights on it, but I don't know if I have the time or the energy to decorate it. There's also the small matter of where to put it... the table I normally use is the storing papers and theses that are too important to add to the multiple piles on the floor.

Hmmmm... maybe next week...

Oh, and Happy Birthday Millie :-)

things I'm learning

I'm currently spending most of my time glued either to my computer, or the current series of Third Watch on Channel 4. I have, however, had the time to make a few observations:

I should have read all of the relevant literature at the start of the project, not now that I'm writing my thesis.

Key papers will always be written in German.

I think I may have attention deficit disorder, but you can't buy Ritalin online.

My ability to touch type is getting worse, not better

Baileys does not help me to write.

When you're flat fucking broke, you really shouldn't be buying bottles of Absolut (especially when there is perfectly good ethanol in the lab).

When deadlines force me to, I can actually focus for, ooohhh, about 45 minutes at time. Then I start perusing the iTunes store, or browsing blogs. Suddenly, the observations of friends of my sister's livejournal friend's seem more interesting than my thesis.

If I say I see light at the end of the tunnel, supervisor Rob will cross it out with big red lines and ask me if I'm sure about this.

Rob is a prick.

the simple pleasures in life

As anyone who has ever read this blog will know, there are certain many things that bother me. One of my pet hates at the moment are a series of particularly irritating TV adverts for the (otherwise) wonderful Cadbury's chocolate.

A couple of the ads have shown the joy of people who have discovered a forgotten chocolate bar (for example in the bottom of their bag, or buried under papers on their desk). I saw this, and just thought "as if." When I buy chocolate, I eat it. Sometimes before I put my coin purse away. If I'm being restrained, I'll even take the wrapper off first.

Anyway... to the point. I'm sitting at home making corrections to one of my thesis chapters. This is a thoroughly depressing way to spend a Friday night. I pick up my handbag, and rifle through it looking for my USB pen drive and my favourite lip gloss (though to be honest, not necessarily in that order...) Suddenly, I find the unmistakable shape of a Quality Street Big Green Triangle, and the moronic joy of the dorks in the ads makes sense. I almost cradled the chocolate in my hand with a look of disbelief on my face, before carefully opening the wrapper and savouring the gorgeous praline centre.

Chocolate has never tasted sweeter...

help required

So, I don't know where this scores on the pretentiousness scale, but I've decided I need a nice quote for the beginning of my thesis. I've been rummaging around online, as well as hitting my sister for ideas... any feedback or other suggestions will be gratefully accepted.

"If we knew what it was we were doing, it would not be called research,
would it?"
Albert Einstein

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
Also Einstein

"They say that we are better educated than out parents' generation. What
they mean is that we go to school longer. It is not the same thing."
Richard Yates

"It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilisation ends at the waterline.
Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top"
Hunter S Thompson

"If you really want something in this life you have to work for it.
Now quiet, they're about to announce the lottery numbers "
Homer Simpson

"Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis"
Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Resume

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live."
Dorothy Parker

oh. my. god.

Could someone please let me know if it is normal to want to choke the life out of your supervisor?

Really.

My sister very kindly helped me set up some webspace, so that I could upload my thesis files. Partly so I had another back-up, but also so I could put up a page from which my two supervisors can download the various sections as they become available. This seemed like a good idea. I also added a polite little note to the page, requesting that the pages were printed, and any corrections were marked up and returned to me on paper. (I did this as my main supervisor, Rob, has the rather tedious habit of using the Track Changes tool on Word. This drives me nuts.)

So... this morning, I finally haul my arse out of bed and check my email. And cluttering up my inbox, are two sections of my thesis. The text was black, now most of it is blue and crossed through. And considering many of the paragraphs are lifted directly from a paper Rob OK'd about 18 months ago, I really can't understand his problem...

p45 fodder

OK, so I'm still writing, but at least I do have a job to go to when I finish. On the upside, this means a regular paycheck, so I can start to pay off those student loans and other debts I've managed to accrue over six years of study. The downside? I may have to start acting like a responsible adult.

For example, I don't know if the male undergraduate students will still be considered fair game, and walking around the department swearing loudly might also be frowned upon.

Before deciding to head off to university to become a mature student, I worked for a couple of small companies; the kind of places where life was pretty laid back, and there were no rules and regulations. The kind of places where there would be no objections to the calendar I bought from amazon.fr

I've never had that much interest in either the French, or rugby players... but oo-la-laaaa...

French rugby players vs. English Farmers? It's really not a fair contest:






When I saw the link to some scans, I just had to have it :-)

After it arrived, I realise the either the French have a very flexible concept of the calendar, or they like to look a beautifully shot pictures of fit, muscular men (and who could blame them). There are dates on the page: a single line along the top in a font so small you can hardly read them. But I guess that's just not the point.

;-)

I just hope putting it up in the office doesn't result in my p45 being handed straight back to me...

the collection grows

Cards, cards and more cards:



I just wonder if I'll finish the thesis before the whole wall gets plastered...

:-)

wembley hell placebo

Driving in London scares me. I know it shouldn't, after all, I did grow up there. But whenever I have to go to an area I don't know, I think back to a survey carried out my a motoring organisation five or so years back. They concluded that half of the road signs were either missing or pointing in the wrong direction. Since the GPS on my phone gets confused by any building taller than a shed, I bought an A-Z with my petrol. I did eventually find the Wembley complex, although it may have had more to do with luck than judgment.

The roadsigns?

Aaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggg!!!

They can put up signs every 50 meters on every bloody road informing you of the speed limit and the presence of speed cameras. Would it be too much to expect even an occasional sign telling you which fucking road you are actually on, coupled with other useful hints (like the direction you are driving in, for example?) Apparently so. Do the powers-that-be not realise that most people do not want to be in north London? They just want road signs telling you how to get the hell out of there...

(One rant down)

Anyway, I arrived at Wembley around 4 pm. Kind of early, I know, but as well as giving me a better chance to get down near the front, I could avoid the M25 during a Friday rush hour. Billed as Placebo's last gig until 2006, there was a pretty multinational feel to the crowd; I think people had travelled from all over Europe to be there. I speak virtually no French, but when the girl in the queue behind me said something that loosely translated as "Fuck me, I'm cold!" I could understand perfectly. A fairly good indication that I've spent too much time in the lab with Emilie, my foul-mouthed French fellow postgrad!

In front of me was a group of kids (you know you're getting old when you describe people as kids)... including girls that pretty much personified every rant I've ever made about Fucking Annoying People at Gigs.

"Oh, I sit on my boyfriends shoulders at festivals..."
"oooo, I like the Ramones (never mind that most of them were dead before you hit puberty) and I think Busted and McFly are soooo cool"
"aahhhh, and I like, you know, like going down the front at gigs, because guys usually let me infront of them 'cause I'm short..."

Oh, wake the fuck up you vacuous dumb blonde airhead bitch... they let you infront of them because you're sickeningly cute jailbait with your tits on display, and apparently have no shame about fluttering your overdone eyelashes to get your own way. Urgh! Do I sound bitter??

First up were The Departure... although from what exactly I couldn't tell. They didn't totally suck, or anything... they were just rather generic, with no particularly good songs. Their music, styling and posturing all reminded me of Franz Ferdinand... about the only outstanding thing about them were the bass player's cheekbones.

I wasn't sure quite what to expect of Har Mar Superstar. Some people in the queue told me they were "kind of funky", and that the bloke often finishes up jumping around the stage in his pants (for Americans, read underpants, I think). So before they came on, I was intrigued and looking forward to the set.

Holy fucking fuck!

I have seen some bloody awful support acts. I honestly can't remember ever seeing something so bad. It had road crash karma: you know you're not supposed to look, but you can't help it.

I decided perhaps I was being overly judgmental. I closed my eyes and just tried to see if there was any actual song-writing talent under the ridiculous backing tapes, flabby torso, man-tits, and oversized ego. Nope... none to be found. When they announced they "only had three more songs" left to play, I spent them all wishing I had an Uzi. And lots of ammunition. By this point, he had stripped down to his trousers; I just stood there praying he wouldn't remove them. Thankfully, he didn't.

Why-oh-why? They could have booked Saint Silas Intercession. Or the Ga Gas. Or better still, both.

(second rant over)

So, before Placebo came on, I was standing there thinking "you bastards had better bloody be worth all this..." I needn't have worried. The came on to the tune of Taste in Men, the crowd went wild, and two of the whiny little bitches in front of me got slammed out of the way (in my defence, I've never actually claimed to be a nice person...).

Anyway, the setlist for anyone who cares:

Taste In Men
The Bitter End
Every You Every Me
Protege Moi
Black-Eyed
Special Needs
English Summer Rain
I Do
This Picture
Special K
Slave To The Wage
36 Degrees (Re-worked version)
Pure Morning

Twenty Years
Without You I'm Nothing (with Special Guest Robert Smith)
Boys Don't Cry (with Robert Smith)

Teenage Angst (Acoustic Version)
Nancy Boy

It's got to be said, I failed to get too excited about Robert Smith as a special, surprise guest. Boys Don't Cry did sound good, and is now added to a short list of Cure-songs-that-don't-suck. I know he has a trademark look, but he's a compelling argument in favour of stylists. At the very least, he could have let Brian do his make-up...



(pic lifted from placeboworld.co.uk)

Anyway, the gig fucking rocked. Security sucked - by refusing to hand out water (they preferred instead to haul out a small army of the highly dehydrated and semi-conscious). I even had a good drive home. I just hope they don't split... their goodbye sounded a little too final. Possibly just Brian being a drama queen.

The verdict? Worth every penny. And assuming they're still together, Roll on 2006.

oops

I really should avoid eBay. It's not so much that it's bad for my health, just my bank balance. When Placebo announced a one-off gig at Wembley Arena, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to go. By the time I realised I could, all of the standing tickets had sold out.

I figured it was no big deal, and tried to remind myself of all the things I detest about the place. For those not in the know, the arena was built as an Olympic swimming pool; the acoustics are a dead giveaway. It's a pain in the arse to get to, and an even bigger pain to get back from. And it's miles from where I live.

Then I decided that it didn't matter that I had already seen the bloody band four times this year... I just had to be there.

So I've just increased my credit card debt, and succumbed to the heady excitement that is eBay. The thing I hate the most about that website, is that it brings out all my worst characteristics... the predator, the bully and the bitch. I crush people because I can. To the point where I synchronise eBay time with that on the speaking clock, and chuckle to myself as I picture the poor sucker who realises that he/she was outbid in the final 10 seconds. Does anybody out there actually like me? 'Cause I really don't think I like myself...

feeling old

Well, that's another Birthday been and gone. I'm feeling decidedly like an old fart, but it was all the excuse I needed to leave the writing behind, head back to London and have a great day out.

I finally made it up to Fulham Broadway (don't get me started on the journey), apologised profusely for my late arrival to my Dad, who then took me for lunch. After grabbing a couple of dishes off the belt at Yo Sushi!, I forgot what I had been pissed off about to start with. Anyway, the day only got better. After watching Chelsea beat Blackburn 4-0, it was off to my favourite Chinese restaurant for dinner with the family.

If only every day could be that perfect...

new office, new start?

Well, even though I can't start work until I've finished the thesis-writing hell, I've already moved into my new (shared) office. I live alone. This is something I am generally grateful for, but I was developing a serious case of cabin fever. I think I was just craving a different set of walls to stare at. So I took all my shit to the labs... People keep walking in, looking at all my files and saying things like, "my God... you're so organised."

I fear the day when they realise the truth. I honestly can't think of many things in my life that are organised. Maybe my CD collection counts, but that's only 'cause I don't really use it since I ripped them all to MP3.

My noticeboard has about 10 layers of irrelevant and out of date detritus pinned to it. My hard drives are filled with disorganised crap that I can't find. And don't even try to imagine the state of my kitchen. My life is generally a mess, in just about every imaginable way.

cards, glorious cards

To try to cheer me up/spur me on, my sister started sending me postcards each day. Then she asked various friends and relatives to join in. This much appreciated collection is growing:

.

Most of the cards are either attractive, or funny (or both). Unlike the card my brother-in-law sent me. He meant well, I know, but I now realise my sister didn't marry him for his artistic streak :-)

.

(Oh, and I think the footprints are courtesy of my lazy-bastard upstairs neighbours, who appear to think picking up the mail is in some way beneath them.)

been a long time coming...

... but I've finally got around to updating this poor, neglected excuse for a blog. Oh, and I'm cheating by back-dating some of the entries; I can't imagine anyone will care too much! In all honesty, there hasn't really been a lot happening worth writing about

I'm still trying to write the thesis. My funding ran out mid-September, and most of the things that I can think to do require money that I don't have.

I'm fed up :-(

just a little list:

OK, so I stole this from my sister. It has taught me a few things. Like I'm cheap, and I need to get out more.

My apologies to her friends on LiveJournal. Apparently I can have this on a separate page, but it's really more hassle than it's worth...

01. Bought everyone in the pub a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone (I'm assuming this means someone else)
08. Said 'I love you' and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Done a striptease (not in public...)

11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Stayed up all night long, and watched the sun rise
15. Seen the Northern Lights
16. Gone to a huge sports game (I'm assuming the FA Cup Final counts!)
17. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
18. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
19. Touched an iceberg
20. Slept under the stars

21. Changed a baby's diaper
22. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
23. Watched a meteor shower
24. Gotten drunk on champagne
25. Given more than you can afford to charity
26. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
27. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
28. Had a food fight
29. Bet on a winning horse
30. Taken a sick day when you're not ill (only while a student...)
31. Asked out a stranger
32. Had a snowball fight
33. Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier
34. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
35. Held a lamb (only before it went into the oven)
36. Enacted a favorite fantasy
37. Taken a midnight skinny dip
38. Taken an ice cold bath
39. Had a meaningful conversation with a beggar (I have, however, had several odd conversations with non-begging bums)
40. Seen a total eclipse

41. Ridden a roller coaster
42. Hit a home run
43. Fit three weeks miraculously into three days
44. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
45. Adopted an accent for an entire day
46. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
47. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
48. Had two hard drives for your computer
49. Visited all 50 states
50. Loved your job for all accounts

51. Taken care of someone who was shit-faced
52. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
53. Had amazing friends
54. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
55. Watched wild whales
56. Stolen a sign (I did try, but decided I didn't need reminding of my time living at my parent's suburban hell-hole house... sorry sis!)
57. Backpacked in Europe
58. Taken a road-trip
59. Gone rock climbing
60. Lied to foreign government's official in that country to avoid notice

61. Midnight walk on the beach
62. Sky diving
63. Visited Ireland (only in transit elsewhere)
64. Been heartbroken longer then you were actually in love
65. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
66. Visited Japan (one night in transit... doesn't really count!)
67. Bench pressed your own weight
68. Milked a cow
69. Alphabetized your records
70. Pretended to be a superhero

71. Sung karaoke
72. Lounged around in bed all day
73. Posed nude in front of strangers
74. Gone scuba diving
75. Got it on to "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye
76. Kissed in the rain
77. Played in the mud
78. Played in the rain
79. Gone to a drive-in theater
80. Done something you should regret, but don't regret it

81. Visited the Great Wall of China
82. Discovered that someone who's not supposed to have known about your blog has discovered your blog
83. Dropped Windows in favor of something better (if only I had the chance...)
84. Started a business (I'm guessing charging people for breaking into their own lockers in high school -when they had lost their key- doesn't count?)
85. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
86. Toured ancient sites
87. Taken a martial arts class
88. Swordfought for the honor of a woman
89. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
90. Gotten married

91. Been in a movie (only an awful pop video, nuff said...)
92. Crashed a party
93. Loved someone you shouldn't have (well, been in lust with)
94. Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy (I've always attributed any post-kiss dizziness to excess alcohol consumption)
95. Gotten divorced
96. Had sex at the office (but then, I've never worked in one. And no, I haven't got laid in the lab... yet.)
97. Gone without food for 5 days
98. Made cookies from scratch
99. Won first prize in a costume contest
100. Ridden a gondola in Venice

101. Gotten a tattoo
102. Found that the texture of some materials can turn you on
103. Rafted the Snake River
104. Been on television news programs
105. Got flowers for no reason
106. Masturbated in a public place (why do this when you can just have sex in a public place?)
107. Got so drunk you don't remember anything
108. Been addicted to some form of illegal drug
109. Performed on stage (school plays, eughhh)
110. Been to Las Vegas

111. Recorded music
112. Eaten shark
113. Had a one-night stand
114. Gone to Thailand
115. Seen Siouxsie live
116. Bought a house
117. Been in a combat zone (no, although my parents had their moments)
118. Buried one/both of your parents (nope, they've managed to go over 40 years without killing each other)
119. Shaved or waxed your pubic hair off
120. Been on a cruise ship (well, live-aboard dive boat)

121. Spoken more than one language fluently
122. Gotten into a fight while attempting to defend someone
123. Bounced a cheque
124. Performed in Rocky Horror
125. Read - and understood - your credit report
126. Raised children
127. Recently bought and played with a favorite childhood toy
128. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
129. Created and named your own constellation of stars
130. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country

131. Found out something significant that your ancestors did (nope, although one of the Last of the Summer Wine actors caused somewhat of a bust-up when he told my Grandad that he'd had my Gran... this was, apparently, untrue)
132. Called or written your Congress person
133. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over (only to go to uni)
134. ...more than once? - More than thrice?
135. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge (nah, the people I was with walked... I got driven back to the other side so I could call my parents for them to wish me Happy Birthday)
136. Sang loud in the car; didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
137. Had an abortion or your female partner did
138. Had plastic surgery
139. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived
140. Wrote articles for a large publication

141. Lost over 100 pounds (only about 60 pounds)
142. Held someone while they were having a flashback
143. Piloted an airplane (trial flying lesson)
144. Petted a stingray
145. Broken someone's heart (nah, been tempted to stick certain peoples' in liquid nitrogen, but then you have to figure out what to do with the rest of the body)
146. Helped an animal give birth (but I did give a hand-job to a pufferfish... and made baby fish in the lab. Does this count?)
147. Been fired or laid off from a job (not technically)
148. Won money on a T.V. game show
149. Broken a bone
150. Killed a human being (no: see 145)

151. Gone on an African photo safari (well, snapping elephants & lions in the Kruger National Park)
152. Ridden a motorcycle
153. Driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100mph (95 mph - downhill - is the top speed of my piece-of-crap car!)
154. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
155. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
156. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
157. Ridden a horse
158. Had major corrective eye surgery
159. Had sex on a moving train (again, I assume they mean with someone else?)
160. Had a snake as a pet

161. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon (I had the 'flu while there, had to stick to the helicopter)
162. Slept through an entire flight: takeoff, flight, and landing
163. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
164. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states (well, I live in the UK, but it's close ~ three months on a Greyhound bus...)
165. Visited all 7 continents
166. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
167. Eaten kangaroo meat
168. Fallen in love at an ancient Mayan burial ground
169. Been a sperm or egg donor
170. Eaten sushi

171. Had your picture in the newspaper
172. Had 2 or more healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime (you are kidding, right?)
173. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about
174. Gotten someone fired for their actions
175. Gone back to school
176. Parasailed
177. Changed your name
178. Petted a cockroach (I usually just mash the fuckers)
179. Eaten fried green tomatoes
180. Read The Iliad

181. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read
182. Dined in a restaurant and stolen something
183. ...and gotten 86'ed from the restaurant because you did it so many times, they figured out it was you
184. Taught yourself an art from scratch
185. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
186. Apologized to someone years after inflicting the hurt
187. Skipped all your school reunions (never had any to go to... reunions, that is)
188. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
189. Been elected to public office
190. Written your own computer language

191. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream
192. Had to put someone you love into hospice care.
193. Built your own PC from parts
194. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
195. Had a booth at a street fair
196. Dyed your hair (my Mum recently showed my the photo's from my sister's wedding (12 years ago) ~ I'd forgotten what it's natural colour was!)
197. Been a DJ
198. Found out someone was going to dump you via LiveJournal
199. Written your own role playing game
200. Been arrested

I must get out more... really :-(

fucking-wanker-bastard-cunts

As you may be able to tell, I am now officially close to losing it. I'm seriously wondering why I took this studentship. I kind of knew what I was letting myself in for at the time... but why the fuck did I think I could actually do this?? Why?

Today's problem: (Sorry for being vague... but I have to avoid certain specificities here.)

I'm working on the physiology of a particular animal. I have to describe - in detail - the structure of a particular organ. I came up with a nice little technique that has allowed me to get some pretty fucking fantastic (even if I do say so myself) images of this organ using scanning electron microscopy. Now I have to label the sub-structures of this organ for my thesis. This should not be too difficult. Many different scientists have published descriptions of this organ in related species.

Drawback number one: I don't know if they had good reasons, or if their pathetic little male egos got the better of them. But there appear to be at least six different sets of terminology in current use for the same structures. Wankers! Why?! Really?? The fact that many of these are latin-based doesn't help.

Drawback number two: Few of these researchers appear to have been capable of providing images that are of any use discerning the relative positions of any of these structures. They may have known what they were attempting to say when they wrote the papers, but I thought the whole point of this was to impart their knowledge to others. Maybe I really am just that fucking stupid...

Drawback number three: I'm currently hovering between wanting to commit multiple homicide, and not giving a shit.

I just want to line up every author of every paper I've read today, rip out their eyes and pour Trizol (TM) in the sockets... trust me, this is not nice stuff. Wankers. The bloody lot of them.

I'm just tempted to make up a completely new set of terms, and see if anyone notices.

Listening to: Ministry. This is not the calming music I need.

Fuck.

they mean well...

My parents, that is. This morning, I either slept through my alarm or snoozed it to death... I was woken by the postman. A package had been sent from the area of cow-country that my parents retired to. They had sent me a package of cookies (yes, another one... did I mention the family history of diabetes) and a calendar.

Both of these items had, I suspect, orginated from a "farm shop" that my parents frequent. I'm sure some of the items they sell are indeed local produce. I have a feeling many more are manufactured on industrial estates in Essex, and just packaged to give them a nice homely feel, thus creating the illusion that they are not filled with artificial preservatives and the like. My parents call me cynical...

On to the calendar. What is it with the current, overdone trend for naked people in calendars?? It may have been a novelty when the Womens' Institute did it. And naked firemen are fine... really fine! Even my former student friend Sean got his kit off for a good cause. This calendar, however, contains pictures of naked farmers. And it may just do more to harm the British farm industry than the effects of BSE and foot & mouth combined.

Here is Exhibit A:

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And they say that many farmers are struggling to find a wife. I can't understand why that could be...

Exhibit B:

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It looks like this guy has given up on the woman search, and taken to pleasuring himself with milking equipment in some bizarre countryside kinky sex practice. Things have to be pretty odd before I think them kinky. There is a dairy farm by the exit of the estate on which my parents live. I'll never view it the same way again! And if I see the above pictured freak there, the speed limit'll go straight out the bloody window.

Exhibit C:

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The fact that his father could find a wife should give hope to all. And doesn't the floppy, wrinkly cabbage just entice you to ponder what wonders lie underneath?

I know. It's personality that counts.

Exhibit D:

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Better looking. But he's naked, and he has his hand around its throat. I think for that poor little lamb, a nice warm oven and mint sauce is going to be sweet relief.

I just wonder about the protein content of the meal...

Anyway, enough of my bitching.

Back to work :-(

i must have sounded stressed...

Having suffered this whole PhD-writing Hell herself, my sister is incredibly sympathetic to my needs. Anyway, her previous care package had long since run out, so I was woken up this morning by Tescos kindly delivering to me some bags of food she had ordered for me:

.

Many thanks again!

check it out:

The wonderful (I think) Saint Silas Intercession now have a video for All About the Money, their debut single.

If you want to see it, click here. If you want to see them live, get your arse to the Camden Barfly next Saturday. Or just sneak a look at their website.

I'd love to go... If I manage to finish another chapter by then, I might make the effort, and think of it as a reward :-)

my mind is numb.

Which is officially my excuse for neglecting this poor little blog. I've been sitting here at home, desperately trying to write my bloody thesis. It is starting to take some kind of shape, but the whole process is slower than I could possibly have imagined, and is sapping any kind of soul from my already pretty empty life. Does that sound self-pitying? Well, tough!

It's got to the stage where I can't see the point calling my friends, as I have nothing to say to them that isn't contained within the previous paragraph. At night, I open my bedroom window, and watch people walking down my street. Most of them are legless, and noisily staggering their way home from the local clubs and pubs. I'm sure there were occasions way back in the past when I did the same, I just can't remember them. Even the irritating attempts at conversation that I used to get from the woman in the local newsagent now seem like a welcome distraction.

Technically, my funding runs out next week. I was hoping to have some kind of coherent draft by the end of the month. I now realise I've been living in cloud cuckoo land. A part of me wants to let out some kind of primal scream, or break something... but despite the fact that I despise my neighbours, I don't want to disturb the bastards, and I can't afford to replace anything I wreck.

And no... my thesis is no better written than the dire drivel above.

I'm Fucked. (Quite literally, with a capital F)

Sorry for the rant, btw.