Seeing starfields

The ecological theatre

2010-02-04T10:11:00.003Z

This morning, I took Chris to my nine o' clock lecture, as he owed me for the ISE lecture I attended last week. Luckily for him, it just so happened that my lecture was on redox potentials, which involves voltage and other things which are more to do with Physics than Biology, so he was in his element. In fact, I think he rather enjoyed it, which makes me think that I should have taken him to a more difficult lecture. Something to do with prokaryotic genetics, perhaps?

Oh yes, and there was another perk for him.

"There are girls!"

Welcome to Biology, love.

Do I get a gold star?

2010-02-03T21:46:00.002Z

Incredibly, I did some work this afternoon. I summarised the lecture notes from this morning, ascertained that the lecture I missed this morning wasn't that difficult, and revised the lectures I missed back in December because I was too lazy to get out of bed. So, a productive day for once.

When I spoke to Rikki this afternoon, he informed me that he'd pulled a muscle in his neck. How he managed to do that is a mystery. Two other mysteries: how my sore throat manages to cause me pain when I yawn (although singing is no problem at all), and why the fridge in our utility room is making a noise that sounds weirdly like "nom nom nom".

It sucks

2010-02-03T12:20:00.003Z

Month anniversaries appear to bring with them an increased probability of things going wrong. Take yesterday, for instance. Not only was my throat still hurting like fuck, but my stomach had decided to give me gyp too. Throw a serious conversation (inspired by Amy) into the mix, and it's safe to say that I've had better days.

After my afternoon problem class, by which point I was thoroughly sick of enzymes, I popped home for half an hour to pick up a spare pair of tights for today. I'm not sure if the knowledge that I wasn't wearing the same outfit two days in a row was worth the two-hour round trip, but hey, I had the time. My lunch had been a portion of mango, so I bought a waffle on the way back to Imperial and ate it whilst jammed between commuters on the Tube. Next time, I think I'll just have a small one. Without all that cream.

I'd arranged to meet Rikki in the Union after his meeting, but bumped into him walking down to the Tube station: thanks to his hangover, he hadn't remembered where he was meeting me and neglected to text me, so it's just as well that I have the gift of good timing. He had to rush home because of his doctor's appointment; I sat in the waiting room and wondered if the pamphlets on domestic violence were implying something by putting Arabic writing on the front.

Then we went to Sainsbury's to stock up the fridge, Rikki received a USB keyboard vacuum cleaner as a late Christmas present, we had a serious chat- I hope things are going to change as a result of it- before Cat came home, we all watched the latest episode of House, and went to bed. I missed my first lecture to try to get some more sleep, only to be woken up at half seven anyway. Rikki felt sick, so I left him in bed. I believe he's still there now.

February's not turning out so well for me.

We all need to calm down

2010-02-02T10:09:00.003Z

Today is mine and Rikki's four-month anniversary. It hasn't gotten off to a good start: I had to get up earlier than usual to renew my monthly Travelcard. Mind you, I did go to bed at ten last night because I had absolutely nothing else to do. Such is my life at the moment. I use sleep like alcoholics use a bottle of whisky.

The good news is that I can stay at Rikki's tonight. The bad news is that Amy is not at all happy with him at the moment.

Not well structured

2010-02-01T21:31:00.003Z

Me: "I don't think they make kilts in his size."

Chris: "They do, but they're called curtains."

The only bad thing about today was that I didn't see Rikki, because I'd assumed he hadn't come into college and didn't go looking for him. Oh, and my throat's fucking killing me.

I had a tutorial this afternoon which was as pointless as I'd expected it to be: we were supposed to mark each other's essays and justify why we'd given out a certain mark. This would have been fine if I'd received a brilliant essay I could pour praise over, but the one I ended up with just wasn't that good. I consequently felt a bit mean for doling out a lower mark than anyone else (fortunately for him, we have a generous tutor who never seems to give a grade lower than a B).

All I want tomorrow is to spend the night at Rikki's. Is that too much to ask for?

Sweeter than glucose

2010-02-01T14:58:00.003Z

I'm glad that I don't have to start February with a negative post. OK, I think I'm coming down with something icky (my appetite's diminished, it hurts to swallow and my neck muscles hurt), but today hasn't been bad otherwise. Not bad at all, in fact.

Everyone's favourite lecturer has returned to teach us some biological chemistry. Who couldn't love a man who swears like a first-class navvy, openly mentions his husband, and prepares interesting demonstrations? Today, he made fruit caviar, and I would have gotten to try some if I hadn't been sitting at the back.

Seeing as Falmouth is now practically out of bounds, I used the microwave in the SAC for my lunch. There are so many people in there that I'm pretty inconspicuous, so there weren't any problems. Touch wood. Sadly, I wasn't very hungry and ended up throwing away half of my frankly unappetising mushroom risotto. Funny how I easily managed to eat a red velvet cupcake with chocolate tasting Chris- I think I'll abandon the prefix and just call him Chris from now on- after our excursion to the Hummingbird Bakery. As usual, we had a good natter whilst puttings crumbs everywhere. This may become a regular fixure, not that I have any complaints: he can even put on a Scottish accent. What more could I ask for?

Lack of resolve

2010-01-31T20:08:00.002Z

So, how's it going with the resolutions?

Learn to cook. I haven't done much cooking this month, so that's not going too well.
Do not gain any more weight. Difficult to tell when I don't own a set of scales, but I don't look any fatter.
Work harder. I've only missed two lectures and a problem class so far, plus I've spent a lot of time in the library. Surely that counts for something?
Wear more jewellery. Yes, I suppose I have been doing this.
Be happier. Fail. Epic fail.

A question of time

2010-01-31T18:40:00.004Z

Last night didn't really improve after I wrote that. Rikki tidied his room while I watched endless episodes of Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe and ate apple crumble. We had another argument before bed. It hasn't been our week, has it?
It has to be said that Rikki's having a bit of a tough time at the moment; I'm not at liberty to elaborate, but I can say that my being in a dodgy mood isn't helping. I was telling Amy about it this afternoon, and she's sceptical. She says that something is wrong and I'm not to blame. Rikki says that he just needs some time. I say that things had better start improving soon, or I'll start doing things I really will regret.

There are two fundamental truths in my life: my relationships never run smoothly, and Amy is right 99% of the time. The two are often interlinked.
Amy never seems to have relationship problems, because she's far too sensible to make a mess of things. In addition to that, men fall at her feet (probably something to do with her blonde hair, blue eyes and extraordinarily long eyelashes). Michael, bless him, is devoted to her. Anyway, the point is that Amy spends more time than I would like hearing about my own extensive relationship problems. It sucks that she lives in Southampton for most of the year. I still have her Christmas card and sunglasses sitting on top of my telly.

Things are going to be different this week. Oh wait, did I say that last week?

Something I may regret writing

2010-01-30T22:57:00.003Z

I think that last sentence jinxed things. This evening has done nothing to improve my mood. I haven't had dinner, but I'm not hungry. I've cried about five times (albeit silently) and Rikki did not notice once.

OK, I'm going to do some more venting because I can't really do it on Twitter. Basically, all I wanted tonight was some cuddles and general cheering up. I didn't think that was much to ask from my boyfriend.

When I arrived, he was playing Borderlands. I patiently waited for him to finish, and when he did so, we went to watch Doctor Who. No cuddling; and this coming after he managed to miss my Facebook chat messages to him four times in two days meant that I was starting to feel ignored. Yay for being paranoid!

I was then reprimanded for using his Facebook account, which was already logged in, to post a quick reply to Amy's comment on my status. Now, I know that going on someone's Facebook account is a bit naughty, but there's a difference between fraping or impersonating someone and doing what I did.

By the time Rikki asked me whether I was all right, I was silently fuming and in the mood to play the melodrama card.

"You don't care. Go to sleep", I said coldly, seeing as he was sleepy after his dinner and already bundled up in a duvet on the sofa.

"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help", he said.

This coming from the guy who is so intensely private that there's some things I'll apparently never know about him. I probably shouldn't be posting this, but I really need to get it out of my system. I want things to go back to how they were, in the days before we had stupid arguments every bloody week. When life was, dare I say it, worth living.

Don't cry, you'll smudge it

2010-01-30T17:35:00.003Z

Here's a list of things I do not like, because I'm in that sort of mood:

When the higher powers of television decide to replace leading actors for no apparent reason. This only works in Doctor Who, because he's a Time Lord in possession of the ability to regenerate and so on. It does not work in sitcoms about three twenty-something humans sharing a flat in Battersea.
Knowing that I've pissed someone off, but not knowing how I've managed to do it.
Feeling ignored, which is sort of related to the above point but not really.
Putting on mascara and seeing that one eye looks better than the other, no matter how much you prod the other one with the wand in an attempt to improve it.
The way my hair looks after I've blow-dried it. It looks best when I wash it, go to bed, and sleep it on it for about six hours. True story.

I apologise for the negativity; it's just that I've just had a boring day tinged with mediocrity. I'll be leaving for Rikki's soon, hoping that nothing will happen to make my day even worse.

Not on the funbus

2010-01-29T18:48:00.002Z

I'm spending Friday night at home because Rikki's showing the Aldwych Group round Imperial tonight, or something. I haven't had a bad day, far from it, but my mood has still deteriorated since I left the house this morning to go to the hairdresser's.

Admittedly, the hairdresser's was nice. I got a head massage from the girl shampooing my hair, and my hair looks pretty good, even if I do say so myself (I wish I could say the same for my pale grey tights, which I shouldn't have worn when I was planning on taking a muddy shortcut). I was fairly relaxed by the time I left, but this feeling somehow evaporated while I was jammed in the queue in Subway listening to the schoolchildren behind me- who were visiting the museums in South Kensington- loudly trying to decide what to have in their sub. Irritatingly, bacon has been replaced by "turkey rashers", because all meats now have to be halal and pork is a big no-no.

Then I had to dissect fruit fly maggots for my practical. My lab partner and I must have butchered about five of the poor things in search of their salivary glands, and had even started naming them after artists by the end of it. This exercise in maggot butchery was followed by an assessment which, unsurprisingly, was difficult.

I went up to the SAC to say bye to Rikki, came home, and intend to spend the rest of the night watching Game On and other cheap British sitcoms. Roll on tomorrow.

I love analogies

2010-01-28T19:07:00.003Z

Let's face it, today was crap. JD Salinger's died (I have to confess that the news mostly surprised me because I thought he was already dead), and London is being treated to cold drizzle. On top of that depressing lot, I learned that having lunch in Falmouth probably isn't a good idea any more, because there have been complaints about my tailgating in and use of the kitchen facilities. It's interesting to note that none of these recent complaints about me have been addressed to my face: rather, I've had to find out for myself via word of mouth. Anyway, it looks like I'll have to use the microwave in the SAC from now on.

I feel like a clockwork toy, wound up every morning and set down on the ground to trundle along; occasionally, I bump into an obstacle or trip over something, and I need someone to set me right when that happens. The poor sod who puts me back on my feet on most of these occasions is- yes, you guessed it- Rikki. Sitting in the library this afternoon was doing nothing to improve my mood, so I popped over to his for some hugs and general reassurance before going home. I'm surprised he's not sick of my near-constant whining and theatrics, but believe me, I ain't complaining.

Game on

2010-01-28T10:11:00.003Z

Apparently, this is my 200th post in this blog. I'll keep it short and sweet.

I'm suffering the consequences of going to bed at about three in the morning; obviously, I would've liked to have a lie-in, but I can't miss more lectures after skipping the ones yesterday. So, again, I dragged myself in and forced myself to pay vague attention, then went to hand in my essay (it's under the word count, but I have a flaky tutor who probably won't mind). Nothing particularly interesting has happened yet, so I'm going to read my copy of the Metro instead of boring people with minutiae.

"Even the Asians have left!"

2010-01-27T19:40:00.003Z

In the end, I didn't leave the library until half eleven last night. Chris buggered off once he'd finished his work, so I read my book, drank some coffee and learned exactly what caffeine does to my body. The stuff appears to give me ADHD: I started getting the jitters and couldn't concentrate on cell signalling at all. Later on, I lay in bed with fragments of my notes whirling round my head like plastic chips in a snowglobe. In conclusion, I won't be able to resort to coffee during my exams, but I'll be sure to have some if I ever need to run a race (my walking speed that night was pretty impressive, even if I do say so myself).

Rikki and I got up at half three today- I hadn't bothered to go in for my lectures, which looked simple enough- and I only came home for some food, a shower and a change of clothes. Call me crazy, but I'm going out to see him again later. He's currently in the garage fixing Jez, who needed to be towed back to Imperial by a minibus the other day, so there's no hurry.

Language processors

2010-01-26T19:19:00.002Z

"My aunt's star sign was Cancer, which is quite ironic, because she died of being eaten by a giant crab."

- Ginger Chris

I'm currently sitting in the library, just for a change, only this time I have Chris (of the chocolate tasting variety) for company. I've just finished summarising my cell biology lectures from November, and am now blogging to pass the time until Rikki finishes whatever he's doing and gets in touch with me so that I can leave this miserable place.

Let's face it, it's been a boring day. My problem class was at nine rather than eleven because of the group I'm in, which denied me a lie-in and gave me four hours to kill before my practical on sterile techniques. The practical itself was fairly short and involved no write-up, which would've been fine on any day except today, when I was hoping that the practical would be long-winded so that I would have something to occupy my afternoon with. No, I was back in the library before four, trying to make sense of bacterial genetics.

Things perked up at six, when I had chocolate tasting, although this was spoilt slightly by the peppercorn chocolate we tried: I've now countered it by eating a large bar of milk chocolate with caramel, which is probably going to count as tonight's dinner. All I've got left to do now is wait for my phone to ring, and I'm fucking tired to boot.

This is a science college

2010-01-25T18:43:00.004Z

Being a Biology student, I don't often get the chance to live the "typical Imperial student" experience. Although Biology has plenty of boys, they number roughly as many as the girls, which I think makes it Imperial's only subject with an even split between the sexes. Another thing Biology has plenty of is Asian students, but they're a minority: another rarity on campus. In other words, the demographics of my course wouldn't strike any observer as being particularly skewed, because they're not. However, this is Imperial, and this apparent normality is in fact an anomaly. Today, I visited the EEE department (for those not familiar with how we abbreviate our courses, that is to say most of you, that stands for Electrical and Electronic Engineering) and experienced Imperial's version of the ordinary.

It all started when Chris- the one from chocolate tasting, not the ginger one- and I were simultaneously complaining on Twitter about our sleep-deprived states. I suggested meeting for a coffee at lunchtime, which turned into an excursion to the Hummingbird Bakery when the queue in the library looked too daunting. Ignoring my protests, Chris bought me a black bottom cupcake, which is currently sitting on top of my telly patiently waiting to be eaten. We sat in the SAF having a gossip and discussing blogging. He has one of his own, and it's pretty good.
Two o' clock rolled around, and Chris had to dash off to a lecture. He studies Information Systems Engineering, or ISE for those who can't be arsed with all that typing; I expressed interest in attending a lecture, partly out of curiosity and partly out of boredom. I was warned against doing so, but since when did I heed warnings?

Once I'd finished my essay on lysosomes, which is the same length as the Wikipedia article on the subject and therefore cannot be made any longer, I sloped off to the EEE building to sit in a computer room and show Chris and Olly where my Twitter background came from before their lecture on signalling.
Upon entering the lecture theatre, the abnormal demographics of Biology became clear to me: the room was almost exclusively filled with Asian males. There were about five girls, myself included, and I was the only blonde one. All the Imperial clichés suddenly made sense.
Unsurprisingly, the lecture itself meant diddlysquat to me. I was never much good at Physics, never studied electronics, and haven't got an A-level in Maths, so I'm not in a good position to try to understand convolution. Someone proved the lecturer wrong, somehow, and I counted two sleeping people. Chris tweeted at me from his iPod under the table, and I resorted to digging out my book towards the end. Nevertheless, it was quite fun in a masochistic sort of way.

So, thanks to Chris, what looked set to be an averagely dull day was actually pretty interesting. He's a gem.

Suck it up, princess

2010-01-25T10:06:00.003Z

I did indeed sleep well last night, and I'm sure I would've carried on sleeping well if my phone alarm hadn't gone off. You see, by the time Rikki and I had watched Slumdog Millionaire (incidentally, I'm not sure why people find that film heartwarming, except for maybe the very last scene) and some domestic drudgery had been accomplished, it was already one in the morning. Throw two episodes of Family Guy into the mix, and you get a very tired Emilie who certainly did not want to get out of bed this morning. I knew better than to succumb to temptation, though, because this morning's lectures looked no more comprehensible on paper than the ones I had last week. I admit that I was glad I'd dragged myself in when I was sitting there scribbling notes, but that doesn't mean I didn't regret leaving Rikki and his warm bed behind.

One more lecture to go, then I can disengage my brain for the rest of the day.

Lucid dreamer

2010-01-24T14:41:00.004Z

Things didn't exactly deteriorate last night, although my heart did sink when Rikki said that he was going to pull an all-nighter in an attempt to sort out his sleep cycle. I was tired after a broken night's sleep, but knew that I wouldn't be able to drop off if I was in bed by myself, so I stayed on the sofa. Rikki eventually decided to go to bed for a few hours at eight o' clock, by which time I'd fallen asleep twice for an hour or two each time and had some very strange dreams. In the one I remember most clearly, my front teeth fell out, and I realised that I was dreaming and tried to wake myself up. I thought it had worked until Rikki woke me up for real and it became clear that my previous "waking up" had been a dream too.

I'm currently at home, having come back to shower, change and charge various electrical appliances. I didn't think my sleep deprivation was causing me any problems until I came to my front door and got out my Travelcard instead of my keys. At least there's a better chance of me sleeping well tonight. Third time lucky?

"Who wants fried onions?"

2010-01-23T23:28:00.003Z

Last night did not end well. It seems that I spend most of my time either offending people, apologising to them afterwards, or chopping onions. I'm being serious about the latter: every time Rikki and I cook something, I chop the onions, and I was chopping them up tonight at Jula's as well.

I had no motivation to get out of bed today, so I didn't do so until six, and that was because Jula had invited me over to Beit for pizza. Many minutes of chopping, kneading, blending and bossing- courtesy of Sanee- later, the pizzas had been prepared and were consumed with pasta, salad and some sort of vodka-based drink with a negligible amout of actual alcohol. It was good banter (I really need to stop using that expression, I'm not even Scottish), and will hopefully turn into a regular fixture.

Fingers crossed that things aren't going to deteriorate after that good start, like they did last night.

Aside from the drama

2010-01-22T21:23:00.002Z

Charing Cross train, Circle line, Live! article, E. coli, microwave, absinthe, Amy's ex-boyfriend, tomato plants, colour blindness, lysosomes, Hummingbird Bakery, delays between Parsons Green and Wimbledon, Sainsbury's, fajitas, cupcake, glass of wine, my lonely angel, a race of advanced reptiles.

Talk about an exciting Friday.

Bitter pill to swallow

2010-01-22T12:42:00.003Z

It's been a while since I had any drama in my life. When I say drama, I mean the sort of drama that results from posting your life online for all and sundry to see. I'm expecting Rikki to say something along the lines of "I told you so" later when he finds out about this.

When I wrote last night's entry, all I knew was that Craig, Samie, and possibly others had deleted me as a friend on Facebook, something I assumed they had done out of sheer pettiness. What I didn't know is that they had found the admittedly bitchy entry I wrote last week, and Craig had posted a relevant excerpt as his Facebook status. Why was he reading my blog? I have no idea. There was a similar incident a few years ago when a girl from my secondary school found my diary page on Bebo- I did say this was a few years ago- and I have no idea why she was reading it either, seeing as she didn't like me. She certainly didn't like me criticising her behaviour, even if I did give her a fake name to protect her modesty. Fast-forwarding a year or two, my last blog was totally anonymous with most names changed in order to prevent my boyfriend at the time from finding it, which would have created more drama than I care to imagine.

So my blog audience has widened, and I now understand why both Jula and Matt sent me messages on Facebook last night asking how I was, not knowing that I hadn't been able to see Craig's Facebook status and was merely pleasantly surprised at their concern for my well-being.

I'm not going to defend what I wrote in the entry: it was below the belt (pun intended, because I always have to insert some flippancy into serious situations), and I truthfully did wonder at the time whether publishing it was a good idea. I suppose I'm now experiencing the consequences of a lack of self-censorship.

One curious thing is that I only found out exactly what "the Facebook thing" that Jula had referred to was after the first lecture, when my curiosity got the better of me. No one acted any differently from usual, let alone came up to me and started shouting in my face. I don't want people doing that, of course, but it's no wonder that I didn't really know what was going on.

So, Linstead lot, this is your apology from me. However, the offending entry will remain up in its unexpurgated glory unless I get a complaint addressed directly to me, in which case I might consider editing it.

Also, I'm not going to apologise for being who I am, which is presumably what led to you blanking me and my consequent bitterness at being ignored. I'm not going to ask if we can be friends, because this isn't some sappy American teen movie. All I ask for is a kind of mutual understanding: we can all ignore each other, I won't write any bitchy things in this blog about you, and I won't engage in prank phone calls.*

Even if you're not reading this, I feel better for getting that off my chest. I'm reluctant to post it, having now read all the comments on Craig's Facebook status, but here goes. I don't know who started all this, but I'm finishing it.

* I'm assuming that it was you who rang me twice and blew down the phone when I picked up. If it wasn't, my bad!

The cherry on the icing

2010-01-21T22:08:00.006Z

Dear Linstead lot (with particular reference to Craig and Samie),

Fuck you. Yes, I'm being passive-aggressive and not saying it to your faces, but why the hell should I when your malice is even more subtle? My year at secondary school were less bitchy than you guys are, and they were all girls.

Dear Rikki,

I'm not obsessing. OK, I am a bit, but can you really blame me? I tried to be nice to them. We were even friends for a while. Then they blanked me, and I'm still not sure why. I don't think I want to know.

Dear everyone else,

This tweet should explain the situation succinctly.

Taking the rough with the smooth

2010-01-21T18:36:00.002Z

This week was going well, but things came a bit unstuck today. I spent my first lecture trying to get Jamie- my laptop, in case you've forgotten- to connect to the right wireless network; this problem had been resolved by the second lecture, but our fairly good lecturer had been replaced by an incomprehensible French man, making cell biology confusing once again. It wasn't such a bad lecture, though, because I was sat between Michael, who was editing Wikipedia in Russian, and ginger Chris, who has good banter. Michael looked up 'dweeb' on Google Images, and pointed to the one of the results.

"That looks like Craig", he whispered as the lecturer droned on about cotransformation.

"You just made my day", I grinned at him.

I looked up the time of my tutorial and discovered that it was at four o' clock, meaning that I had four hours to kill beforehand. The small hole I'd just found in my tights did nothing to improve my mood. The tutorial itself was a tedious waste of time: my cell biology tutor spent last term telling us how to make a good presentation, and this term seems to be devoted to how to write a good essay (this comes a bit late after our exam last week). We have to write an essay under self-imposed exam conditions; I have no intention of following the latter instruction. At least we don't have to include references, and I can think of far worse topics to write about than lysosomes.

Rikki texted me to see if I wanted to come back to his, but I was already at Cannon Street by then. Still, I've got things to do at home, and I'll be at his for most of the weekend. It'll be nice to have an uninterrupted lie-in.

He's a peach

2010-01-21T10:10:00.003Z

"I don't want to go", I whined when the alarm went off this morning.

Unlike the tenth Doctor, I wasn't reluctant to regenerate; I just had no wish to crawl out of bed after five hours of sleep. Thankfully, Rikki had my best interests at heart, and dissuaded me from skipping my first lecture. He stayed in bed, but he's allowed to do that. Besides, he was clearly at least half-asleep when I left.

We seem to have slipped into a routine lately, not that this is a bad thing. Last night, we watched Nightmare of Eden and I had soup for dinner (making it a vaguely healthy meal, which is something of a rarity at Rikki's). Roll on tomorrow night, when I won't regret only settling down to sleep in the small hours of the morning.

Intersex

2010-01-20T15:19:00.002Z

My mother gave me a five-pound note this morning. I have absolutely no idea why, but it was a good start to the day.

Not that the hours following breakfast have been so bad. The Tubes were running normally again, we had a lecture on the genetics of sex, and I had a beef stroganoff for lunch that I heated up in the microwave in Falmouth. Frank and I watched a couple of episodes of Family Guy, then I felt that I really had to do some work and retired to the library. Oh, and I found this image macro, but it probably won't amuse you if you're not a Doctor Who fan.

Nothing on my back

2010-01-19T20:14:00.002Z

The rest of my day passed relatively smoothly. In fact, bar the Snog I had for lunch and this afternoon's practical- which involved counting the kernels on corncobs, believe it or not- nothing happened that was really worth writing about. There were no incidents on the journey home; my mother has booked me in for a haircut next Friday and bought me some chocolate. This week's shaping up to be pretty good.

It's not a bomb

2010-01-19T12:49:00.003Z

When I was woken up at half seven by my phone alarm, I didn't want to get up. I'd only had about five hours of sleep, I was tucked up in bed with my warm boyfriend, and all I had to look forward to this morning were two genetics lectures. I forced myself to leave, though, because I knew full well that my brain would only process the lectures properly if I attended them. Plus, I did resolve to attend more lectures this year, following the large number I missed in December out of sheer laziness. Rikki stayed in bed, and I set off to East Putney.

If the Tubes had been running normally, I would've arrived with plenty of time before my lecture started at nine; unfortunately, the Tubes weren't running normally, due to a "faulty train" on the District line earlier on. My fellow commuters are I were crammed into a carriage like sardines in a tin as the Barking-bound train limped eastwards before coming to a grinding halt outside Earl's Court. The driver informed us that there had been a security alert at High Street Kensington because of an unattended bag left on a train (since the TfL website now has no mention of it, I can only assume that some idiot forgot their shopping or something). Thankfully, we got moving again after ten or so minutes, but the destination of the train then changed to Edgware Road, so I had to get on another one.

I arrived to my first lecture fifteen minutes late, vaguely understood its contents, and calmed myself down in the break by sitting opposite an electric fan in the library with a copy of the Metro. I'm in the same spot now, only I switched the fan off earlier because it was blowing my meiosis notes around.

Damn straight

2010-01-18T21:37:00.002Z

I was in the library for five bloody hours going over cell biology and biological chemistry, yet it still doesn't feel like it's sinking in; it's still vaguely terrifying, in fact, but at least it's a familiar sort of terror by now.

After that non-stop fun, I went to Rikki's and ate pasta and Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream in front of The Ark in Space. I'm writing this from a loving sort of headlock (he's playing Final Fantasy again), slightly annoyed that my main censor has spoken out and forbidden me from writing about what happened to him earlier. No, it wasn't about sex, before you ask.

Apparently, today was supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. I strongly disagree.

"I can't find the balls!"

2010-01-18T12:04:00.002Z

Today has gone smoothly so far. I didn't oversleep or wake up feeling like a complete zombie; I didn't forget to get my lunch out of the fridge and even remembered to put some jewellery on; there were copies of the Metro at my station; lectures weren't too taxing and included some banter. I also experienced bubble tea for the first time. The tapioca balls have a texture reminiscent of frogspawn, but hey, it doesn't hurt to try something new every once in a while.

Now I have a free afternoon at my disposal, so I'm going to spend it working like a good girl before I go and see Rikki tonight.

You know when you've got it good

2010-01-17T20:48:00.003Z

The most eventful thing that happened today was the journey home; all I did at Rikki's was lie in bed for a while, show him my new dress, and watch Katy Manning flashing her knickers in Day of the Daleks.

I left at twenty to six, specifically so that I would get to Putney station and get a train to Waterloo in time to catch another one home. The problem was that no trains were stopping at Putney station due to engineering works, and knowing the unreliability of rail replacement bus services, I decided to take the Tube to Charing Cross from East Putney. There were no problems there: I got to Charing Cross with plenty of time before my train was due to depart, so imagine the surprise I got when I discovered that engineering works had outwitted me again, and the only trains running were shuttle services to Cannon Street. Cursing myself for not getting off at Victoria earlier, I got on a crowded shuttle and then spent twenty minutes waiting on a platform. I'm just thankful that it wasn't too cold, and I got pasta for tea when I eventually made it home. Sometimes, there's no real reason to grumble.

3D glasses, anyone?

2010-01-16T22:27:00.002Z

Chris and I have organised a Facebook event. Please attend and spread the word, or we'll never live it down!

Not much has happened today. Rikki got up at the shockingly early hour (for him) of half eleven, and I stayed in bed until the power unit in his computer blew and I was forced out to Maplin's to get a new one, followed by Sainsbury's to buy dinner. We've eaten the beef stir-fry, but the chocolate puddings are still in the fridge.

Oh, and Rikki keeps tickling me, the fiend.

Our Mayor has bad taste

2010-01-15T18:29:00.003Z

The crêpes were indeed still in the locker room when I got back, so I kept my promise and ate one. Perhaps it was a good omen, as the exam went pretty well. I hadn't bothered to learn parasitic life cycles properly, but knew enough to answer the multiple choice questions, and found a fairly straightforward essay question on arthropods. I was grateful to my past self for learning the names of the different body plans found in sponges as well as the paragraph of extra reading about krill. Also, Simon's shaved off his beard and had a haircut. Just thought you might like to know.

My post-exam plan had been to go on a shopping spree, but I'm not sure I'm able to classify it as a spree when I only bought two items (a pair of green tights to match my sparkly belt, and a black velvet dress from American Apparel I had been drooling over a couple of days ago). I bumped into Chris from chocolate tasting on my way back to Imperial, which was unexpected but definitely nice. He was going shopping for jeans; I hope he finds more than I managed to. It doesn't help that I have a pathological hatred of cardigans.

Boris Johnson visited Imperial today. Guess where he went? Yes, he went to Linstead, and shook hands with my enemies. Later, said enemies will be going out clubbing to celebrate the end of their January exams. I'm not jealous. Not only do I not like clubbing, but I'll be doing something tonight that they almost certainly won't be: getting laid. And not up the arse, either.

I'll also be having a tasty dinner from M&S with my boyfriend, who will probably be cross with me when he sees what I just wrote. Sorry, Rikki!

Wish me luck

2010-01-15T12:53:00.003Z

I'm taking a lunch-and-blog break from my last-minute cramming to bring you the news that nothing interesting has happened since last night, unless you count my discovery of the best oven chips I've ever had. On a similarly food-related note, someone unwise has left an open package of chocolate-filled crêpes unattended in the locker room. They weren't there on Wednesday, so they must be fairly fresh; if they're still there when I get back, I will eat one. There are also some Activia yoghurts next to them, but I don't like those.

At least it will all be over by four o' clock.

Knock-out drops

2010-01-14T18:46:00.003Z

Rikki [hiding under the duvet halfway down the bed]: "It smells funny down here."

Me: "It's your side of the bed."

I only revised for an hour or so before Rikki came online and I made my way to his, stopping off at Sainsbury's along the way to pick up supplies (four pints of milk, three litres of sugar-free cranberry juice, four Muller light yoghurts, and some mango). This turned out to be pointless because we went to Sainsbury's again later on so that Rikki could stand in the frozen food aisle, dithering over what to have for dinner. My dinner was the remnants of the roast chicken- presumably free from salmonella, as I haven't thrown up- one of the yoghurts and the mango, and six Funfetti cookies. I proceeded to shock Rikki and Cat by eating the leftover Funfetti icing out of the tub; they then shocked me by using their Twitter accounts for the first time in months. As Rikki wondered whether to get back into it, Ashley sent him this tweet, which made me laugh out loud.

We went to bed at one and didn't get up until four in the afternoon. Seeing as today was my last opportunity for revision, I suppose I'll have to make up for it later. Still, who would pick studying over snuggling?

Snow, suitors and Starbucks

2010-01-13T15:40:00.003Z

Today wasn't exactly strange, but it was certainly unusual. My morning didn't get off to the best start when my mother came into my room at half seven and woke me up: this came after I told her last night specifically not to wake me up before nine, because I didn't need to be up early.

"It snowed overnight, you might have trouble with the trains", she explained.

I wanted to go back to sleep, but of course my mind was speculating over whether there would be trouble with the trains or not and wouldn't shut up. I gave in and checked the Southeastern website, which didn't fill me with hope, and the TfL website, which did. It seems that the Tubes were coping well with the snow this time around, although the current delays on the District and Hammersmith & City lines indicate that they don't cope so well with people taken ill on trains.

A little while later, I received a friend request on Facebook from none other than the ex-boyfriend I was madly in love with this time two years ago. Seeing as he'd deleted me as a friend on Bebo when the social networking site was in vogue and hadn't spoken to me on MSN in about eighteen months, I assumed that he had only added me to boost his number of Facebook friends. Not so. He also asked me how I was, presumably out of politeness rather than a sinister ulterior motive.

When I got to the train station, the ticket man informed me that no trains were running, so I caught a bus to Bromley and miraculously found a fast train to Victoria from there (it hadn't been advertised on the departure boards, so I'd steeled myself for a fifteen-minute wait). Getting to South Kensington after that was plain sailing. On my way into the library, I bumped into someone from Linstead who doesn't hate me, and he expressed surprise at not having seen me in his kitchen in a while. I didn't have the heart to give him the real explanation as to why I no longer set foot in Linstead.

I didn't stay in the Imperial library for very long, unlike poor Rodrigo (he was there when I arrived at half eleven and only left ten minutes ago), as I had a photo shoot to attend in Camden for Someone Once Told Me. After coffee and a non-exploding chocolate muffin in Starbucks, the charming Mario took my photo by the lock: according to his Twitter, he was slightly worried that I was going to fall in. I then came back to Imperial and am currently sitting in the library again. Well, I have nothing else to write about, so I'd better get back to my much-maligned revision.

An epiphany

2010-01-12T18:44:00.003Z

I've realised exactly what it is that I want in life. I don't want fame, fortune, fast cars or fancy jewellery; all I want is a job I don't hate, enough money to live comfortably, no diabetes (I can't imagine going a day without eating something sweet, let alone a lifetime), and someone to snuggle up with at night.

In short, all I want is to be happy.

Increased entropy

2010-01-12T16:28:00.003Z

Not long after I finished writing last night, Rikki came on MSN and confirmed that he was indeed at home. When I arrived, he was playing Final Fantasy- something else I'd predicted- so I read the Evening Standard and did some quizzes on Sporcle to pass the time (I managed to name 34 out of 50 Jelly Belly Bean flavours before my time ran out, a feat I was geekily proud of). Then we watched The Invasion of Time and The Greatest Show in the Galaxy while Rikki did his impression of the horse in the south of France that tried to eat my hair when I was six.

We didn't go to bed that late, but we stayed up talking: this culminated in us arguing over the age of the child actors in Malcolm in the Middle, and me taking out my laptop to prove that Frankie Muniz and Erik Per Sullivan weren't born in the same year. Once I'd basked in victory for a few minutes, I was tired enough to fall asleep. Rikki wasn't, though, and he didn't hit the sack until about six. No wonder he was "feeling off" at one. He told me that he'd be able to work from home today, but I had to go back to my own home and revise some more, so I left at half two. I'm pretty sure he's still tucked up in bed now.

Following my exceptionally smooth journey home on Sunday, I missed two trains today and didn't get back until four. The front door was open, and a removal van was parked outside; the interior was even more chaotic than it was yesterday. The floor was covered in protective plastic film, there were boxes everywhere and removal men wandering around all over the place, but no sign of any family members. I noted with amusement that my mother had bought biscuits, something she does every time we have workmen in the house, so I had HobNobs yesterday and custard creams today. Life isn't so bad, really.

Bye-bye furniture

2010-01-11T16:02:00.002Z

I could have gone in for the revision classes today, but I didn't see the point when I would have had to get up early just so I could do something which I can do perfectly well at home. Imperial will have to do without me for a little longer.

This morning, I got up at half ten and went downstairs for breakfast, only to be confronted with the Christie's removal men, who were taking away our furniture. One of the men in question was wrapping up decorative mushrooms and taking up the whole of the kitchen table, so I had to eat breakfast sitting on the kitchen counter. No, I don't mean at the counter, on a high chair or something: I mean actually sitting cross-legged on the counter. Last time I went downstairs, there was an enormous roll of bubblewrap sitting in our hallway, so I've stayed upstairs reading through my notes and trying to get them to stick in my head.

I'll be heading off to see Rikki soon. I'm guessing that he's still at home after another late start, but I could be wrong.

Tickled out of bed

2010-01-10T19:40:00.003Z

Rikki decided at nine o' clock last night that he fancied roast chicken for dinner. The difference between us is that while I would have shrugged and dug a pizza out of the freezer instead, he went out to Sainsbury's in the freezing cold to get hold of a chicken, which he duly roasted. While he was out, the washing-up fairy passed through his kitchen.
I told my father about the roast chicken this evening:
"What time did you eat it, midnight?", he joked, unaware that it had indeed come out of the oven at this time.
Eating torn-off hunks of meat too quickly gave me a stomach ache on top of the cramps I already had, so I curled up on the sofa with a hot water bottle until Rikki decided that it was time for bed (it was only one in the morning, so this came as something of a surprise to me). The pain subsided after I'd been lying there for a little while, so I shoved the hot water bottle down to keep my feet warm and fell asleep. I must've been tired, because I never usually fall asleep during Family Guy.

After getting dressed in my increasingly creased and sullied tights, I left Rikki's at five. Amazingly, it took me less than an hour and a half to get home: a Tube to Victoria arrived on the platform as soon as I did, I caught a train to Bromley South within five minutes of getting there, and I was only kept waiting at the bus stop for two minutes before a bus home turned up. Not bad, for a cold Sunday.

Oh, and here are a few photos from yesterday, as promised.

"Yay for fag hag status!"

2010-01-09T18:35:00.003Z

"Give me some space", mumbled Rikki this morning as he lay overheating in bed.

Half an hour later, I was heading out the front door; not because I'd taken his words too literally, but because I had a Twitter gathering to go to. Out of the people going, I only knew Matthew (Alex didn't show up, which was a shame), not that this put me off in any way. The only problem was that Matthew was delayed on his way to Waterloo by the Bakerloo line, and I had to wait in the freezing cold for half an hour. Gary and Chris showed up shortly afterwards, we went for coffee in the Starbucks, and more people kept turning up in dribs and drabs. Well, when I say people, I mean gay guys: I was one of only two girls. There were some more girls, including a very fat one, in a small group who attached to us before we got on the Tube, but we lost them before we got to Westfield. No one mourned them.

We spent most of the time in Westfield standing around wondering where to eat, but making no move to get food. Eventually, we managed to secure several tables, and some people gave into the demands of their stomachs. I bought Snogs for Matthew and myself, which has been my only source of nourishment today apart from a skinny caramel macchiato and the Haribo Rikki and I are currently consuming.

Sadly, Matthew had to leave to catch his train back to Scarborough, and I went back to Kings Cross with him. He was slightly miffed that he hadn't been able to get off with anyone; this reminded me of my past self who, it has to be said, kicked ass upon occasion. These days, domestication has made me soft.

Leaving nostalgia aside, today was a good day. I'll put the photos up when I get home.

Working as a courier

2010-01-08T17:57:00.002Z

I'm back in Putney- fear not, the apple crumble is in the fridge- patiently waiting for Rikki to stop playing Final Fantasy. In the meantime, I'll write about what happened today.

My father asked me this morning to take a contract over to Christie's on my way to Rikki's, so I agreed and was given a fiver for my troubles; Matthew is in London at the moment for the Twitter gathering tomorrow, and I figured that my errand wouldn't take very long, so I offered to meet up with him for a coffee. We arranged to meet at Green Park station and find Christie's together, which proved easier than I thought.

"Hello, ladies", the doorman greeted us, before realising his mistake.

So I dropped the contract off, we went to Starbucks, and had a heart-to-heart over a latte. I'm seeing him again tomorrow anyway, but it was nice to have a bit of a private gossip. As we were leaving, Rikki texted me, and I said I would be half an hour. This was slightly inaccurate, but I'm here now, and I didn't break my neck on the ice rink that serves as a pavement on his road. Good times all round.

Not mad, just sad

2010-01-07T18:36:00.003Z

With the help of four episodes of 'The Good Life', I was able to calm down enough last night to sleep properly. Rikki and I have now sorted things out, and I'm going to bring him some apple crumble tomorrow night to make it up to him. This post will serve as a reminder to stop doing stupid things from now on (doing some more revision might be a good idea, too).

Pathetic fallacy

2010-01-06T19:04:00.004Z

While I was having my dinner, I started hyperventilating, and ended up chucking most of my ready-made casserole down the outside drain. Just to clarify, the latter was mostly because it didn't taste very nice. There's a pile of dog sick on the kitchen floor, and I'm not good with vomit at the best of times, so I definitely couldn't face clearing that up now. Rikki's angry with me because of something stupid I did last night.

Tonight has been horrible and I want it to end.

Snow bound

2010-01-06T17:10:00.003Z

Indeed, Rikki was still in bed yesterday when I left the house, so I went to Putney, stopping off at Sainsbury's on the way to stock up on sugar-free cranberry juice and pomegranate seeds. Cat had to go to work that night, so the planned drinking was replaced with going out for a meal; I had been eating fairly healthily, up until Cat bought a box of caramel shortbread bites, decided she didn't like them, and left them in our care. It wasn't long before we'd polished them off in front of Planet of the Daleks (Rikki had a nap halfway through for some reason, so I tended to his FarmVille for him). By this time, the snow was coming down outside the window and inconveniently coating London's train tracks.

I think I only got about three hours of sleep before the alarm went off at eight o' clock.

"Why did you set it for eight?", I asked, bleary-eyed.

"Work", he said simply.

Seeing as I didn't know what time he wanted to actually get up for work, or whether he would bother to go in at all because of the snow, I just kept hitting the snooze button at ten-minute intervals. It wasn't until one o' clock that I resigned myself to the fact that he wasn't going to work, got fed up of being constantly woken up, and asked for it to be switched off; I was just settling down when my mother phoned, asking me to be home by four or five to look after the dogs. Cursing, I decided to leave at half two in case the trains were delayed. They weren't, but I did have to wait half an hour for a train to Beckenham Junction because I'd missed the one beforehand by two minutes. I then had to walk home for half an hour in a snow shower.

I'm currently crying over the keyboard, which is bad news for my poor unfed stomach, because I find eating very difficult when I get myself into a state.

I hate it when this happens

2010-01-05T15:57:00.003Z

Rikki isn't answering his phone and doesn't seem to be on Facebook: my best guess is that he's still in bed. I'll be leaving the house in half an hour anyway, because I can't bear to stay here revising for much longer. We're supposed to be going out tonight to celebrate the end of Cat's dissertation, because things didn't go to plan and I think she's handing it in today instead.

I wish I had something more interesting to write about, but apart from the fact that snow seems to have shrouded the whole country except for London, nothing springs to mind.

"Switching to root vegetables in my absence?"

2010-01-04T17:32:00.003Z

In conclusion, spending nearly six days with Rikki made up for nearly six days of not seeing him at all. The downside is that I naturally haven't revised in that time, and Rikki kindly just reminded me that my exam is next week (on Friday, but still, it's a scary thought). Still, as I said to Cat, never say never. Speaking of Cat, she'll have handed her dissertation by now, assuming everything's gone to plan. Good for her.

I'll do some more revision after tea, which I am told is going to consist of roast beef. That'll be an improvement on the tinned ravioli I was served for lunch.

Not letting go

2010-01-03T18:39:00.002Z

Rectifying our sleeping pattern failed somewhat: I had a nap in front of the television at six, but otherwise managed to stay up until midnight. We went to bed, and didn't emerge again for another eighteen hours. I had some strange dreams, including that I was at some sort of Skins cast reunion because I'd had a bit part in it, although I had no recollection of this.

I've decided to stay at Rikki's for an extra night because there's no incentive to go home (we don't even have any food) and I don't want to be stuck at a cold station waiting half an hour for a train home. Revision and healthy food can wait another day.

Three times a lady

2010-01-02T16:53:00.003Z

I've been awake for coming up to twenty-three hours, because Rikki is trying to rectify his sleeping pattern by going to bed at a normal time after getting up at six o' clock in the evening yesterday and pulling an all-nighter. Surprisingly, I'm not particularly tired as I write this; even more surprisingly, we actually left the flat today. It happens to be our three-month anniversary, but that's not why we went on a cinema date: we just went today because Rikki wouldn't get out of bed at twelve yesterday. Avatar in 3D is worth seeing for the visuals alone, especially if you enjoyed Disney's Pocahontas (though I'm not sure if anyone else will see the vague similarity between the two films).

Anyway, as I'm sure you all know, Doctor Who was on last night. If I'm honest, I really don't know what to make of it. The plot wasn't resolved in a way that made me shout at the television too many times, which is good; but it didn't seem to make much of an impression on me at all, which is bad. It seems that the episode lived for its last ten or so minutes, a heartwarming but undeniably fanwanky montage of what had apparently been the Doctor's "list of things to do before I regenerate":

Save Mickey and Martha- I always knew that girl was just a replacement for Rose- from an errant Sontaran.
Also save Sarah Jane's kid, this time from a needless death at the hands of a careless driver.
Give Donna her wedding present. Note to self: ask Geoffrey Noble for a quid.
Check that Joan Redfern had a good life after all the hoo-hah with me disguising myself as a human.
Set up Captain Jack with that nice Alonso from the Titanic.
See Rose one last time. Well, I think it'll be the last time. It's difficult to tell when she keeps on popping up all over the joint.
Set fire to the TARDIS. Hang on, wait, that wasn't supposed to happen!

How did he come up with the time to do all that stuff before his cells finally succumbed to radiation poisoning? His third incarnation died in a similar way, but he only had time to pilot the TARDIS back to UNIT headquarters, not gallivant around timelines. His fourth and fifth incarnations only had enough time to see flashbacks of past friends and foes shouting things along the lines of "Doctor!". To put it simply, no other Doctor had been this reluctant to die.
Speaking of his fourth and fifth incarnations, I maintain that the transition from David Tennant to Matt Smith is similar to the one from Tom Baker to Peter Davison: an enormously popular and long-serving actor gives way to a lesser-known, younger actor who gets all the grief as a result. I do wish people would give poor old Matt Smith a chance, instead of instantly slagging him off because he's not David Tennant, or because they don't like the performance he's given so far. You can't tell what he's going to be like from those two minutes, for goodness' sake!

You'll have to excuse me if I sound tetchy, I've been this way for the past hour or so.

My resolutions

2010-01-01T20:15:00.002Z

The title is fairly self-explanatory.

Learn to cook. This has gotten off to a good start, seeing as I cooked dinner last night. By the end of the year, I may be more proficient in the kitchen than my mother.
Do not gain any more weight. I gained a kilo this term, which isn't much now, but I can't keep going at this rate; if I do, I'll be nine kilos heavier by the time I graduate (if not more), and that will be noticeable.
Work harder. This means writing up lecture notes properly, actually going to lectures- I may need to cut down staying at Rikki's during the week if it helps this cause- and getting round to revising ecology.
Wear more jewellery. I have so much jewellery which I keep forgetting to wear, so I think it's only fair that I include this on my list of resolutions.
Be happier. Because I can't keep being so fucking depressive for the rest of my life.

A fresh start?

2010-01-01T01:36:00.003Z

Rikki Norris brought in the new year with his girlfriend, Doctor Who, and by hitting level 26 in FarmVille.

Emilie Sylvia entered 2010 clad only in a towel. Bring it on, new decade. Bring it the fuck on.

I think those status updates tell you all you need to know about how I celebrated the end of 2009 and the decade everyone affectionately knew as 'the noughties'. Rikki and I went to Sainsbury's to get curry ingredients; I'm proud to say that I technically cooked dinner (Rikki measured things out and cooked the rice). I took a shower while it was simmering, hence why I was indecent when Big Ben chimed on the telly. Rikki phoned his parents, then persuaded me to phone mine. He found the conversation I had with my mother interesting, not least because the two of us were speaking different languages. In conclusion, 2010 has started off well, but what will it throw at me, I wonder?

The end of the decade

2009-12-31T18:21:00.001Z

A concise summary of this New Year's Eve, because I'm still not out of bed and Rikki will get impatient if I blather on.

I just got off the phone with Matthew, who is doing even less tonight than we are: I think we were supposed to go out, but we're still in bed, so the plan seems to have changed to ushering the new decade in with a home-made curry in front of the telly. We went out for a Chinese last night in honour of Rikki's birthday, so we're not complete hermits. Only slightly.

Here's wishing all my readers a very happy New Year!

Older, but perhaps not wiser

2009-12-30T16:04:00.002Z

All is well in the world again. Today is Rikki's birthday, meaning that I'm now dating a 22 year-old (aren't I a lucky girl?), and he's been claiming birthday rights since midnight. Unfortunately, this also means he made me watch Logopolis.

I think we had been supposed to go out to the pub last night- it was Rikki's friend's birthday- but no one made a move to leave, so we stayed indoors and ordered a Chinese. Rikki brought back a tin of Roses from his parents', and there's a giant chocolate birthday cake on the kitchen counter. Needless to say, this makes me very happy. The sugar-induced hyperactivity meant that I didn't sleep before six this morning, and I'm still not technically out of bed.

Rikki fixed the bed I broke a while back by jumping on it, so props to him.

Amusingly, a complete stranger messaged me on Facebook asking me out for a coffee and chocolate cake on Oxford Street. In his defence, he sounded sweet enough, but he clearly hadn't done his research into whether I'm single or not. I had to shoot him down, truthfully saying that I wasn't single, today is my boyfriend's birthday, and we already have chocolate cake here. Plus, the dude looked pretty old; he's hidden his year of birth on his profile, so it's safe to assume that he is old.

I've had enough

2009-12-29T18:15:00.002Z

"Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires."

- Paul, quoting someone I do not know

In about three hours, I'll be at Rikki's. I haven't seen him in nearly six days: I was complaining to poor long-suffering Paul (he's too sweet to tell me to shut up and get over myself) that this separation has sent me crazy. It also seems to have implanted dark thoughts into my brain, and they have no right to be there. My inability to sleep until the early hours drove me to self-medicating with the equivalent of eight shots of Baileys last night, although any soporific effect was sadly countered by Rikki texting me at two in the morning while he was watching The Power of Kroll.

The sooner I get the hell out of my house, the better.

Petty concerns

2009-12-28T16:51:00.003Z

After a terrible night in terms of sleep- Rikki kept texting me while watching City of Death- I rose from my bed and made a beeline for my computer. As usual, I logged into Facebook, and discovered that Craig has invited all his friends from Imperial to an exam afterparty in January; except me, of course. Ohnoes! Whatever shall I do? (That was sarcasm, by the way).

"Stop obsessing", Rikki scolded me.

Mind you, even if I had been invited, I wouldn't have gone, for the same reason that I didn't go to the BioSoc Christmas dinner. Studiously ignoring people is very difficult when they're sitting right next to you.

I have one more lecture to write up, then I'm free to slack off for a few days.

Creative desert

2009-12-27T20:06:00.003Z

Rikki texted me at five o' clock this morning. I read it, decided that it wasn't very important, and went straight back to sleep.

I spent most of my day writing up lecture notes; I'm about to go and watch a film, then I shall probably go to bed and be grateful that this spell of being housebound will end soon. I can't take much more of this crushing boredom. It doesn't even provide me with anything interesting to write about.

'Poncy' just reached a new level

2009-12-26T19:51:00.002Z

My parents are selling the furniture from the two rooms on the first floor. Paradoxically, although this could pay off the rest of the mortgage on this house, their primary motive for selling it is that it won't all fit into a smaller house if we move. However, I'm informed that there's still "no guarantee" that we will.

The furniture from the first floor is a collection of rather expensive French stuff from the 1930s and 1940s. It has always been regarded by me as inferior to "normal" furniture in terms of comfort: this view was cemented when a particularly delicate dining chair collapsed when I sat on it, aged eight.

It seems that I've been sitting- albeit very gingerly- on a gold mine all this time. You see, our house is featured in Christie's latest auction catalogue; in fact, the entire collection is comprised of stuff currently residing in our living room. I wish I was joking. Said living room is even depicted on the side of the Christie's building in Paris, albeit with the plug sockets airbrushed out of the photo.

"I'll be glad to see the back of that", I said, pointing to the African tribal mask that has been scaring people shitless on the stairs to the second floor for the past few years.

In the introduction to the catalogue, my father is described as "an Englishman with an affiliation to French culture" (not because he married a Frenchwoman, either) with "a sensitivity to the art of that epoch", or some shit like that.

This is insane, but the most insane part is that my father didn't even show my Dalek to the photographer who visited earlier this month. Surely that's a twentieth-century design classic too?

I miss you

2009-12-26T18:56:00.002Z

My general opinion on Boxing Day is that it's fucking depressing, and this year was no exception. The only thing stopping me from hightailing it to Fenchurch Street and jumping on the next train to Essex is the pile of lecture notes still sitting in a corner in my spare room, demanding to be written up and memorised.

Barring the excellent book I read, today was quite crap. Tomorrow doesn't look set to be any better.

Warning: contains fanwank

2009-12-25T19:01:00.003Z

If I'm honest, I wasn't looking forward to Doctor Who tonight: I hated The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords, so naturally the Master's reappearance didn't exactly fill me with hope.

Sure enough, I spent a fair amount of time this evening complaining that the sophisticated and suave Master, back in the day when he had a little black beard, wouldn't have gone around wearing jeans and a hoody. Or stuffed his face with a burger he bought from a greasy spoon in a lay-by. John Simm is a fantastic actor, don't get me wrong, but he isn't Roger Delgado or Anthony Ainley.

"This is going to be a rehash of The Deadly Assassin", I said as soon as I saw the Master's face replaced with a skull for a second.

Other horribly geeky comments I made over the course of the hour included:

"Is Mrs. Trefusis a reference to The Stones of Blood?"

"Ginger is like a young version of Toberman from The Tomb of the Cybermen."

Of course I spotted the Bannakaffalatta reference, and recognised the Time Lords straight away from their costumes (so did Rikki, and he was rightly proud of himself).

"Fanwank!", I shouted at the television at the end.

My main complaint is that the writers of the new series are constantly bringing characters back. It is seemingly impossible for them to leave a companion wherever they are and be done with it, as the old series always did. First we had Rose returning, and now it's Donna's turn, even though her brain is supposed to burn out if she gets so much as a sniff of the Doctor. Oh yeah, and they're bringing the Time Lords back too. Why can't they just leave well enough alone?

This one could go either way, I reckon. Mind you, even if I'd hated it, I'd still tune in on New Year's day to watch the end of it. I'm a sucker for punishment like that.

Christmas comes this time each year

2009-12-25T14:32:00.003Z

Christmas in this house get less and less traditional every year. I didn't wake up until quarter to eleven, and went downstairs to find my parents stuffing themselves with mince pies. My mother was desperate for biscuits, for some reason.

"Go fetch one of Anne's presents, she usually gives us stuff like that", she asked my father, who duly went upstairs and brought down a gift-wrapped package.

"That sounds like biscuits", she said, rattling it.

She tore greedily at the paper; her face fell when she discovered that the contents were not biscuits, but Stilton and crackers. The latter were now broken as a result of the rattling.

Unwrapping the presents didn't take very long, because there weren't many of them.

"It was very inconsiderate of those relatives to die before they bought our Christmas presents", my father joked.

I'd bought him eight rolls of wine gums, which he was very pleased with. My mother was equally pleased with her box of Lindor chocolates, although she did turn her nose up at the Hermes scarf my father bought for her. She deemed it "grannyish", so they're going to London tomorrow to get it exchanged.

Two of my presents hadn't arrived yet, but I did get a Bose SoundDock for my iPod, three books, a Doctor Who videotape, a set of M&S toiletries which will no doubt be recycled as a present next year, and a pen (from my aunt in Scotland who always buys us weird presents). My parents also put £100 inside my card.

My mother spat in the face of British tradition by leisurely putting the turkey crown in the oven at half eleven, meaning that it was ready to eat by one o' clock. I hate sprouts, so I was given sweetcorn with my turkey and roast potatoes instead. Nobody had remembered to buy crackers, those little sausages wrapped in bacon, or a selection box. I'm going to go downstairs to watch The Grinch with my father in a minute, but he'll probably fall asleep after drinking all that wine.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Bah humbug!

2009-12-24T18:26:00.002Z

I wish I was in Essex. Rikki told me just now that he stole a trolley this afternoon to get his last-minute Christmas shopping home, only to end up watching his mother and aunt throw it over a fence to get rid of it. Plus I'm betting his house is more festive than mine: all we have to show for the festive season is an anorexic Christmas tree, not the full-on gaudy light displays so beloved of British homes. I haven't felt particularly festive these past few years, I have to say. Come to think of it, I've spent my past few Christmases missing a certain someone (they were different people, before you wonder who on Earth I'm talking about). You do the maths.

Revising cell biology probably wasn't the best way to get into the Christmas spirit, either, but I really need to spend my time at home doing something productive, or I'll regret my laziness later. I've got less than a week in which to do some hardcore revision for my exam in January.

Somniloquy

2009-12-23T23:50:00.003Z

"To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed."

- Lady Macbeth

Out of boredom more than anything else, I Googled sleep talking. According to this website, it can be caused by the following:

Sleep disorders such as sleepwalking and nocturnal sleep-related disorder. I've never sleepwalked in my life and I avoid eating late at night, so I don't think these are to blame.
Certain medications. I'm not on any medication, just fluoride pills, and I've been taking those since I was a bairn.
Emotional stress. Possibly? I'm not even going to pretend that I haven't been (whisper it) feeling sad quite a lot of the time lately, but that's not stress, that's just me overreacting to certain things and blaming it on things like hormones, tiredness, or even what day of the week it is.
Fever. No, I haven't been ill.
Mental health disorder. I just took an online test and my results are as follows: high chance of having schizotypal personality disorder, plus moderate chance of having histrionic personality disorder, narcissitic personality disorder, avoidant personality disorder, and OCD. Nothing wrong there, then.
Substance abuse. I don't do drugs. My hallucinations are 100% natural.

Perhaps it was just the Haribo after all.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

2009-12-23T21:05:00.004Z

A cup of tea perked Rikki up, and we shared one of the bags of Haribo he'd bought me whilst watching The Invisible Enemy. Despite eating over a hundred grams of Tangfastics, I failed to bounce off the walls; however, Rikki claims that I was bouncing around in bed later on, not to mention talking in my sleep. Apparently, my hands were wandering as well (!).

I didn't get up until gone five o' clock, simply because I was putting off leaving for as long as possible. Rikki's currently on his way back to his parents' house in Essex, meaning that I won't see him again for a week. Anyone reading this who is in a long-distance relationship will probably scoff at me, but you have to bear in mind that I'm used to seeing him nearly every day. My long-distance boyfriends weren't incorporated into my life nearly as much as Rikki is. This will be our longest separation yet, and to make matters worse, I'm stuck at home with nothing much to do in the meantime.

Anyway, I eventually left at six, following an understandably drawn-out goodbye. I didn't cry.

Not until the lift doors had closed, anyway.

I wasn't sure whether Southeastern were running a Saturday timetable, as they were yesterday, or a normal one, so I had no idea what time my train home was. I got to Waterloo with no major problems at half six, and asked when the next train to Hayes would be.

"Fifty-five, platform C", said the stressed-looking man at the information desk.

Obediently, I went down to platform C, only to be told that the Hayes train had been cancelled.

"Fuck that", I texted Rikki, who was receiving live updates of my progress. "I'm going to Victoria."

So I took a Tube to Victoria, fought my way onto a train going to the Kent coast, got off at Bromley South, and waited for a 358 bus. It took half an hour to show up and- just to add insult to injury- it was pissing down with rain when I got off. By the time I'd reached home, two and a half hours after I'd kissed my boyfriend goodbye, I was soaked and miserable. So much for the season to be jolly.

Eat, drink and be merry

2009-12-22T21:51:00.004Z

Rikki is currently falling asleep on the sofa behind me. He has no reason to do this, especially seeing as he only got up at half past four; nevertheless, I've covered him up with the duvet.

I stopped off at the M&S in Bromley on the way to his, became quite distressed when I couldn't find any apple crumbles on the shelves, and bought Eve's puddings instead (I'm still not quite sure what they are, but the basic premise seems to be an apple sponge with custard).
We ate that lot in front of the generically-named Planet of Evil, then exchanged Christmas presents. I'd bought him novelty socks and underpants because I knew that he'd wear them; he'd bought me tights because I instructed him to in order to avoid disappointment on my part, or indecision on his. I'd also got him a cynical Christmas card in the belief that anything cheesy would be laughed at, but he did get me a slightly cheesy one with "to my fabulous girlfriend" on the front, so I guess I was mistaken there.

While I was writing the above paragraph, I was shoved, flicked, accused of talking in my sleep, and finally made to wear Rikki's hobo hat. I don't know about fabulous, but I'm clearly long-suffering.

Even Lazarus died eventually

2009-12-22T14:44:00.004Z

As my new Orange SIM card was still apparently unregistered after over a week of ownership, I went back to the Orange shop in Bromley to get it fixed. One session of musical SIM cards later, I got my diagnosis: my old blue Motorola SLVR thinks that any SIM card you put in it is unregistered, so I can't use it as my phone any more. It's a sad day, because I'm very attached to that phone, especially after getting it back from the dead when it was stolen. Plus my father is going to complain when I ask him for a new one.

I'm currently using Rikki's spare phone with my new SIM card in it (even though the phone was issued by Vodafone, this arrangement works, so it must have been unlocked at some point in its life). It's not a bad phone, but I can't keep it forever: it's not mine, and it annoys me because I can't seem to insert apostrophes into texts. I'll admit that I have warmed to it slightly more since I managed to change my ringtone to the Doctor Who theme, circa 1984. Rikki's spare Vodafone SIM card is living in my wallet until I can give it back to him. My old phone is currently housing my mother's old Orange SIM card- which it naturally claims to be unregistered- because it won't turn on at all if the Vodafone SIM card is in it.

So that's two phones and three SIM cards I'm carrying around with me. This is getting ridiculous.

Brush with fame

2009-12-21T16:11:00.004Z

My mother has gone out with her gay best friend to see the Pet Shop Boys. I've wrapped Rikki's presents and written his cards, renewed my Railcard, and been sent an @ reply by Ollie Barbieri (better known as JJ from Skins) on Twitter. The heavy rain of this afternoon has given way to more snow.

Considering the fact that I've been stuck at home all day looking like an utter slob, today hasn't been that bad. I haven't done any revision, though.

I'm (snap) happy

2009-12-20T23:28:00.002Z

I left Rikki's after watching Terror of the Zygons, got back to mine at half nine (having avoided killing myself by slipping on the frozen pavements), and have now uploaded the photos from Friday night. Enjoy!

Know your place

2009-12-20T16:54:00.004Z

"Curiosity killed the cat my dear redrum, redrum my dear, satisfaction brought him back safe and sound, from toes to crown; from head to ground he was safe and sound."
- The Shining, Stephen King

We made a halloumi (a type of cheese which squeaks in your mouth) and pork pasta bake last night, but it wasn't cooked until about eleven o' clock, so that was a very late dinner indeed. I'd been allowed to choose pudding, so I picked toffee cheesecake and ate nearly half of it. We watched Revenge of the Cybermen and then some videos on YouTube, including some old and therefore embarrassing vlogs I made over the summer. I fell asleep on the sofa while Rikki played some more Final Fantasy, woke up to find that he was putting plates away- I seem to wake up automatically when he isn't there- and finally went to bed at half four in the morning. I still haven't gotten up yet because I don't want to leave.

Last-minute shopping

2009-12-19T18:51:00.002Z

Today was a successful day of Christmas shopping. Amy and I first went to Nando's in Covent Garden for lunch, then onto the Royal Opera House gift shop. We spent an inordinate amount of time in there because Amy kept seeing extra things she wanted to buy, plus her debit card had to undergo some sort of security check, which involved phoning a number and being put on hold for fifteen minutes. While I was waiting at the till with Amy's many purchases, a strange and rather smelly woman decided to tell me about Carlos Acosta's latest performances.

Things got considerably easier after we left: I blitzed CyberCandy and the TopMan on Oxford Street, gave Amy money to buy a pair of white leather gloves as her present because we didn't see any, and went back to Rikki's to find him playing Final Fantasy on the sofa. He still is.

Methinks tonight will be a nice, quiet night in.

We're having a ball

2009-12-19T11:10:00.003Z

What a night last night was. Rikki's lying next to me, sleeping off what must be a pretty bad hangover after how much he drank last night. I only had a G&T with a rather generous measure of gin, which is just as well, seeing as I had to drag Rikki home.

Amy informs me that she'd like to reschedule our shopping trip to two o' clock, so I might go back to bed after writing this. I was only up this early because I thought I'd have to leave at twelve.

So last night started off with me getting to Eden Park station to find a few disconsolate souls standing on the platform: one of them, a blond guy wearing sodden shoes and swigging from a can of Strongbow, informed me that they had been there for an hour without seeing a train. After about five minutes, one train passed at high speed, but didn't stop.

"Maybe that one's clearing the line", I said hopefully.

The train I had been planning on getting was now delayed by two minutes, according to the indicator board. I didn't take this to be a good sign, but surprisingly enough, a train did arrive at that time, and was met with considerable relief by my frozen fellow passengers. I sat with the blond guy, whose name was Olly, and learned that he's in the year below me and has applied to study Maths at university. We had a nice chat before he got off at London Bridge to go clubbing.

I didn't realise how lucky I'd been with my train until I got to Charing Cross and saw that every single train was at least delayed, if not cancelled. It was half nine, and a service to Tunbridge Wells which should have left an hour beforehand was only just having its platform announced. I was expecting the worst on the Tubes, but they were entirely unaffected, not to mention empty.

I haven't got my camera lead with me, so I'll upload the photos from last night when I get home. Suffice to say that everyone was getting into the Christmas spirit by getting drunk on Christmas spirits (credit to Alex for that line).

Chaz had been cast as Santa for the night and had his own grotto, in which he would grope unsuspecting visitors regardless of their gender. I won't say any more, because there are plenty of photos demonstrating this. Many photos were also taken of JJ, Rikki and Chris having a go on the ice rink, which was not ice at all, but a giant plastic chopping board with WD40 sprayed on it. A sign near the door forbade the use of the rink by those under the influence of alcohol, but this warning was neither heeded nor enforced.

After meeting some more of Rikki's friends and watching him steal three boxes of eighteen mince pies- that's fifty-four mince pies in total, fact fans- the Union officers and I ended up in a room in the SAC, drinking G&Ts and engaging in banter. JJ claimed that he'd been drinking for thirteen hours, and he certainly was looking worse for wear.

Me: "If I do get JJ into bed, he'll just pass out."

JJ: "There's always the morning."

Me: "That's more than I get from Rikki!"

What can I say? That elf costume was damn sexy.

It was three in the morning before Rikki and I made our farewells and left, and we didn't get to bed until five in the morning. Well, I was in bed an hour before that, but Rikki took ages faffing around refreshing Facebook and having a smoke. If I did get any sleep during the night, I don't remember it, but I suppose I must have done.

And on that note, I'm going back to bed.

"Make time go faster!"

2009-12-18T18:08:00.002Z

I've spent my day acting like an utter slob: I didn't take off my pyjamas and have a shower until after lunch, and only just put some proper clothes on (I was sprawled on the sofa in my dressing gown watching Donnie Darko for most of the afternoon).

My initial outfit for the Christmas Ball tonight was to be comprised of my short black velvet dress, green tights, and a sparkly green belt with an oversized bow on it. Sadly, owing to the snow and consequent bitter cold, a rethink was in order. I grabbed my longest pair of legwarmers, which happen to be hot pink, and planned an outfit around them. By the time I leave the house, I'll be wearing three jackets, which I reckon should be enough.

I don't care if I'm dressed inappropriately for a possibly formal occasion; I once went to a black tie dinner in an Argyle jumper, for goodness' sake.

Well, I may as well do some reading to while away a couple of hours before I have to leave.

An attempt at being serious

2009-12-18T12:27:00.002Z

This entry is dedicated to Lola Snow, a far more talented writer than I could ever hope to be.

When I woke up this morning and peered out of the window, I was pleased to find nothing more than a dusting of snow covering the suburban landscape. Thanks to the relative clemency of the weather, there are no serious problems with the trains on my line, and getting into London later shouldn't be as difficult as I'd previously envisaged.

The up-shot is that I have plenty of time to kill, so I decided to write about a fairly serious subject: self-esteem, mainly of the female kind, because I'm ill-qualified to write about males.

Chances are that any girls reading this will at some point in their life, maybe even without realising it, have flirted with an eating-disordered mindset. By this, I don't mean that they will have gone through a period of starving themselves, or freaked out at the thought of keeping down a normal-sized meal. I'm talking about muted jealousy over a friend's weight loss, or equally muted despair over gaining weight, however small the amount. This isn't surprising, when we live in a society that bombards people with unrealistic images of bodily perfection, usually equating to being thin; that rant's been done to death, though, so I won't go into it here.

I'm no stranger to such thinking, as I hinted on Twitter yesterday, but what scares me is how many girls don't seem to realise that these thoughts are irrational, let alone that they can ruin your life.

What also scares me is that, owing to my slightly morbid interest in the topic of eating disorders, I can pick apart people's irrational thoughts pretty quickly. Most of them seem to boil down to "if I can't be pretty, I can at least be thin" (closely related to "if I lose weight, the person I like might like me back"), "I'm unhappy, and starving myself is a cry for help", or even "everything in my life is out of my control, but I can control my eating".

If any of these thoughts strike a chord with you, please listen to me when I say that you're better than that. As well as all the guff about everyone being beautiful, everyone looks their best when they're healthy, which they certainly won't be if they're depriving their bodies of essential nutrients. The best way of getting people to like you is just by being yourself, not by weighing six stone; and if they don't like you just the way you are, fuck 'em. If everyone had that mentality, as voiced by Rudge in The History Boys, I reckon the world would be a better place.

There's nothing else I could say that probably hasn't already been covered somewhere else, but if you have any salient points you'd like to add, feel free to drop me a comment.

It's the end of term, but...

2009-12-17T21:53:00.006Z

So my first term at Imperial has drawn to a close. I would say that it feels like Freshers' Week was only yesterday, but I'd be lying. It feels like about three months have passed since I first through passed the archway of Beit Quad for the 'Pre-Freshers Meet-up #1', and funnily enough, it has been about that long.

Let's follow the lecturers' advice and pick out the key points, shall we?

Before Freshers' Week had even started, I'd been on a pub crawl and acquired an older boyfriend.
Freshers' Week officially kicked off with Jula and I browsing through the rails of TopShop. I thought that she might turn into my second best female friend, but alas, it was not to be.
Similarly, my hopes of being BFFs with the Linstead lot were dashed as my relationship with them slowly but inexorably deteriorated. They now completely ignore me, and it's so obvious that even Rikki can't deny it.*
I lost my phone and got it back again, but am paying a high price for my carelessness even now: I'm still using Rikki's spare phone because my new Orange SIM card doesn't work.
My pre-university teetotality gave way to drinking for the lulz, although this happens once a fortnight at most, and I've vowed to never get drunk again.
I went to my first formal ball, Rikki got completely hammered and stood in front of a bus, but I had an awesome time nonetheless.
My parents informed me that they're trying to sell the house, but at the time of writing, we haven't even had an offer yet. Thank fuck.
Ironically, I became more and more disenchanted with my house, and now dread coming home simply because it's so boring here.
Our first field trip was not nearly as awful as I'd expected it to be; it was there that I met Simon, who Rikki brings up in conversation more often than is probably healthy.
I got wetter than I remember ever having been before on the London to Brighton run on Imperial's resident fire engine.**
My hidden talent- not the one for downing pints, the other one- emerged. As did many, many cookies from our oven.
Rikki grew a vague semblance of a moustache. I did not like it. He eventually shaved it off.
I journeyed to Essex to meet Rikki's parents, who seemed to like me. However, Rikki has yet to journey to Kent to meet my parents.
While my fellow freshers went clubbing, I spent my nights cuddled up to Rikki on the sofa, watching old-school Doctor Who. Je ne regrette rien.
In terms of work, I did averagely in my coursework and missed more than a few lectures, mostly for reasons to do with the previous point.
The President of the Student Union branded me as "a Union hack by proxy": I spend so much time in the SAC, in the union bar, or generally hearing about the state of the Union from its representatives (many of whom I know personally) that I completely agree with this description.

* Linstead lot, if you're reading this... Fuck off.
** I am totally forbidden from writing what else I was going to say. Dammit!

Forecast: snow showers

2009-12-17T20:32:00.001Z

"The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry."

- Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck

I wrote the title of my last entry with the above quote in mind, knowing full well that my plans were bound to go down the toilet somewhere along the line; and, sure enough, they have. This time, the impending snow is to blame.

Last time it snowed in February, I had this to say about it:

"The snow started to fall last night, and continues to fall as I write this. London has ground to a halt as buses and trains have all been cancelled by the foot of snow (I'm not exaggerating) lying on roads and rails. Needless to say, the school cancelled all its coach services, and I've effectively had a three-day weekend: soon to become four-day, as the coaches aren't running tomorrow either."

I went on to complain that my father had hogged my computer for the entire day, leaving me to slump on the sofa in front of Sky One. My point is that snow fucks up the transport network, which I do not like one bit.

Glancing out of my window, it becomes apparent that it's snowing now. Fuck.

Anyway, I was planning on cancelling on Coley to avoid disappointment tomorrow- assuming that I miraculously made it to her house, I don't want to run the risk of being stranded in Surrey- but she told me that she's no longer free anyway, so at least neither of us feels bad.

This leaves me stuck at home for the day, until I leave for either South Kensington or Putney; I'm praying that forewarned is forearmed in TfL's case. Despite the fact that my parents are seriously considering curtailing their plans to go to the Isle of Wight, I still intend to spend my weekend with Rikki.

Thank God I've got a monthly Travelcard and a new copy of Donnie Darko.

Best laid plans

2009-12-17T08:41:00.003Z

My parents are going to the Isle of Wight this weekend. What usually happens on such occasions is that they confiscate my keys and give them to the gatehouse with strict instructions not to give them back to me until Sunday, then kick me out of the house when they leave on Friday morning.

This morning, my mother shocked me by saying that she would let me keep my house keys so that I can pop in and out of the house as I choose, although I did have to promise not to bring anyone back with me. I'm still staying at Rikki's (why would I want to spend a weekend in the house by myself instead?), but this does neatly solve the problem of tomorrow.

You see, my parents are leaving the house in the morning, and I thought that I would be unceremoniously chucked out and left to fend for myself, so I arranged to go and see Coley for the day. Rikki has to come in to hand in coursework or something, and then has a SAC dinner in Putney at half seven. The Union Christmas Ball starts at eight, but I don't know anyone who's going- most people are either going home or going out somewhere else- and don't fancy turning up by myself like a loser.

So, after seeing Coley tomorrow, I can simply go home and turn up to the Ball later when Rikki finishes. I love it when things just work out.

"Why didn't I bring my gloves?"

2009-12-16T21:57:00.003Z

Shortly after writing that last entry, JJ phoned Rikki to ask him for a favour: JJ lives in Falmouth halls, who had their Christmas dinner tonight, and they'd booked Jez to give lifts to people going to the dinner. The snow had subsided to drizzle and it wasn't exactly warm outside, so JJ had tried to cancel the lift-giving, but Falmouth were having none of it.

"We have to have the fire engine!", they cried.

I got out of bed and put my clothes on, cursing the masochists who were forcing me to do so; as I'd told my parents that I wouldn't be home until after dinner, I offered to come along on Jez.

As JJ ran red lights in South Kensington in the manner of a juggernaut, causing the ten or so girls clinging to the sides (myself not included, I'm an old hand by now) to emit ear-splitting squeals, I started to regret my decision.

By the time we'd made two trips and dropped off the last of Falmouth's denizens, my extremities had turned into blocks of ice and I was shaking like an aspen leaf: I later joked to Rikki that I hadn't truly experienced cold until I joined the Motor Club.

All I wanted to do was get on a train home and thaw myself out, but Southeastern trains were against me. I got to Charing Cross about fifteen minutes before my train was due to leave, so I waited patiently for the platform to be announced. Five minutes before the departure time, a platform announcement still hadn't happened, and the indicator board eventually revealed that my train was delayed. This was apparently due to earlier signal failures between London Bridge and Charing Cross, not that this explained why just about every other train was leaving with no problems.

Twenty minutes of waiting on a chilly concourse later, Southeastern announced the platform for the train after the one I'd intended to take, resigned itself to the fact that the still-delayed previous train was a lost cause, and cancelled it.

The worst part was that this train didn't even have the heating on properly. I shivered my way home, wondering if this evening was punishment from higher powers for being such a lazy bugger. It was so worth it, though.

Let it snow

2009-12-16T16:27:00.003Z

We didn't wake up until ten minutes before my lectures started, and made no move to get out of bed. I drifted in and out of sleep until two o' clock, when Cat burst in.

"It's snowing!", she cried.

Rikki peered through the slats of the blinds, confirmed that there was a light sprinkling of snow on the ground, and came back to bed.

I'm still technically in bed, because it's too cold to get up and I don't have to leave for another few hours. Rikki just fetched me breakfast in bed: apple pie. Ah, I'm a lucky girl.

Cold hands, warm heart

2009-12-15T20:58:00.003Z

Well, you can't say I didn't try with that last post.

I'm currently snuggled up watching telly with Rikki, following a dinner of home-made pizza: pepperoni for me and ham, sweetcorn and pineapple for him. Today hasn't been particularly taxing. In fact, I spent most of it reading diamond geezer's blog and otherwise avoiding doing any work. I did have a practical with an assessment afterwards, but that was just bunging more data into Excel and keeping my fingers crossed (it worked for the last practical, anyway, because I got 77%).

I feel fat, but happy. And that's all that matters.

Requires reader participation

2009-12-15T12:50:00.002Z

"The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - that you'd thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you've never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has come out, and taken yours."

- Hector, The History Boys

While I was pondering what to write today, the above quote popped into my head, so I decided to go with it.

Everyone has their own little quirks, and I'm no exception. Top of the list of mine would be my synaesthesia, but there are other things too. Like my tendency to "hallucinate" when I'm on the point of falling asleep, meaning that completely random and nonsensical thoughts or images pop into my head (I've never had sex while high, but I have done so while hallucinating, and suppose the outcome is similar). Or my OCD-esque behaviour, like always having my browser tabs open in a certain order and listening to three songs on my iPod every night before I go to bed if I'm at home.

I was speaking to Coley last night: she reads this blog but, like most of my other readers, never leaves comments. As a result, I have no idea whether people are reading or not, which is why I am now urging you to go forth and leave comments. Even if you're a complete stranger who found this blog by pure chance, it doesn't matter, I won't freak out.

Does anyone reading turn into a zombie if they don't have breakfast, but become incapable of eating if they're upset? Use a particular item of clothing as a sort of security blanket? Become oddly attached to items of technology, such as outdated mobile phones? I need to know!

Medicinal qualities

2009-12-14T20:07:00.002Z

My colds always go through the same pattern: sore throat, runny nose, and cough. When I went to bed last night, I'd reached the runny nose stage, and kept having to mop it on a wad of loo roll. Sexy, I know. This afternoon when I was still in bed, I'd progressed to the cough stage, but that now seems to have subsided. Therefore, I can conclude that having a duvet day did both of us good.

I've reached the point in the evening when I've had my dinner and can't start getting ready for bed for about another hour, else I'll be in there stupidly early. This is why I don't like being at home; I'll be escaping to Rikki's again tomorrow night.

Duvet day

2009-12-14T18:33:00.003Z

As a reward of sorts for yesterday's productivity, I went over to Rikki's with the previously purchased M&S dinner: steak and potato hash, with apple crumble for pudding. Both the food and myself were gratefully received.

We ate dinner in front of Paradise Towers, which Rikki rightly deemed to be terrible, followed it up with the vastly superior Mawdryn Undead (yes, of course I'm talking about old Doctor Who episodes. What else?), and watched various other things until the small hours. At half three, we decided to call it a night, and went to bed, setting the alarm for seven so that I'd be in on time for my lectures. Unfortunately, I wasn't particularly tired, owing to my nine hours of sleep the previous night.

By the time the seven o' clock rolled around, I still hadn't slept a wink. Although I was feeling reasonably awake, I knew that if I didn't get any sleep, I'd be collapsing by lunchtime. We set the alarm again, this time for noon with the intention of getting in two hours later, and I eventually fell asleep.

When the alarm next went off, Rikki was extremely reluctant to get up. I consulted my schedule, found that I only had a problem class to attend, and gave up on the idea of going in at all. With that, we settled back down, and didn't get up until half four; by this point, we'd completely missed the hours of daylight.

While I was walking through Waterloo to catch my train home, a clearly inebriated man wished me a merry Christmas and happy New Year. I did likewise.

"Maybe you'll find that special someone", he said.

"I already have", I smiled.

Run-up to Christmas

2009-12-13T15:44:00.002Z

Woke up, had breakfast, finished the jar of Nutella in the process, got dressed, brushed my teeth, went to M&S, bought dinner, chatted to the cashier, took the bus halfway home and walked the rest of the way, stashed shopping in the fridge, finished getting ready, printed off next week's lecture notes, went to Bromley, got a new pay-as-you-go SIM from the Orange shop, came home again, posted my number on Facebook (it was met with wild indifference), spent the £20 Amazon voucher my father's half-brother sent to me, decorated the Christmas tree, came to the conclusion that today was a productive Sunday.

I love all our retro French decorations. Most of them were purchased from Parisian department stores about forty years ago.

Postcard from the Midlands

2009-12-12T21:24:00.004Z

Sure enough, I didn't see any of the Linstead lot today. I did see Andy, who I hadn't seen since my trip to Leicester back in May, when he spent the day pretending to be a Transformer and talking about sex. Not much has changed, but he's a nice guy even so. He likes Asian girls, so I said I'd take him to Imperial with me one day; I owe him for introducing me to Chicken & Bacon Ranch Subways with no vegetables and lashings of ketchup.

What else happened today?

Kelly and I exchanged Christmas presents: giant Pocky for her, tights in varying shades of red and pink for me. We're both pretty easy to buy for.
I also had to buy Kelly fags twice, and got asked for ID both times.
We all had our photo taken with a man dressed as a giant turkey.
I met more of Kelly's friends, including her most recent ex and current girlfriend. To clarify, they are separate people (but knowing Kelly, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't).
Andy insisted on walking with me because I look "normal" and am not a "mong", a title which he applies to most of Leicester's teenage population.
Kelly did her usual trick of patting me on the head a lot.

I was going to stay at Rikki's tonight, but I'm staying tomorrow instead. Either way, it doesn't make much difference, so I'm not complaining.

Bloody hell

2009-12-12T10:30:00.003Z

Thank you, hormones, for making me emotional again last night. I don't care if that wasn't your fault, I'm going to blame you anyway; and I'm certainly going to blame you for the fact that sex is now off the cards for a week, as well as the large spot preparing to erupt on my chin.

I'm off to Leicester now to see Kelly. It should be a good day (at least there's very little risk of me running into the Linstead lot there).

I gotta break away

2009-12-11T17:06:00.002Z

After my slightly misleadingly-named practical on "molecular modelling", which involved very little modelling and a lot of frantic searching on Wikipedia, I decided to pop to Leicester Square for a spot of shopping. I had to buy Kelly's Christmas present to save me getting it tomorrow on my way to Leicester, and some Christmas cards for a select few.

Sadly, it seems that I just can't get away from Imperial. I was standing on a Piccadilly line Tube, and glanced at the back of someone's head.

"That looks like Romy's head", I thought to myself, by now being familiar with what my lab partner looks like.

The person turned around, revealing herself to be Romy. We chatted until Leicester Square- she was getting off there to meet her dad- where we parted company.

Later, having bought Kelly's present, I was walking through Covent Garden when I caught sight of a tall, guy with dark hair, wearing what looked like a Linstead hoody.

"That looks like Samie", I thought to myself, "but it can't be. Oh wait, there's Craig. Yep, it's definitely them. Shit."

As usual, we completely ignored each other (or at least, I completely ignored them, it is possible that they didn't notice me at all).

At least that trip did a fine job of killing some time.

Hydrogen bonds

2009-12-11T13:38:00.003Z

Last night was another late one: I started dozing off on the sofa in front of Romeo + Juliet at about one in the morning, so Rikki insisted on carrying me to bed (judging from that, he can be romantic if the mood strikes him, even if he did scoff at the film). I didn't get any sleep in the bed, though, because he was still in the living room swearing at a spreadsheet and I can't seem to sleep at his if we're not in the same room.

I deemed today's first lecture to be fairly unimportant and therefore acceptable to miss, so Rikki set the alarm for ten, and I got in slightly late for my eleven o' clock lecture. Simon was supposed to cook for me after that, but he was too tired to bother; by a stroke of luck, I ran into Chris from chocolate tasting and some of his friends in the union bar, and spent lunchtime with them instead. I skipped breakfast because I wasn't really hungry, and my appetite wasn't much greater by lunchtime, so all I've eaten so far today has been two cookies. That could be something to do with the curry, two cookies and slice of apple pie I consumed last night.

I'm so not in the mood for a practical right now, but there's no way I can avoid it. That's life!

It's just a phase that I'm going through

2009-12-10T20:11:00.003Z

I'm going to put my emotional outburst on the bus down to my possible illness too. Actually, outburst makes it sound much more dramatic than it really was: I just cried in silence.

The fact that I had to wait for Rikki for four and a half hours didn't really help, either. All I wanted was a cuddle and to go back to his. I'm there now, waiting for the curry to cook while he carries on working. I would write more, but I'd rather urge you to listen to this song instead.

Poor creature

2009-12-10T14:01:00.002Z

Rikki sensibly decided to come in and won't be done with whatever he's doing- mechanical design?- until after five. This gives me plenty of time to continue with my cell biology revision. Simon did suggest sleeping to kill three hours, but I think that I slept too much last night, if anything. I woke up at quarter to five in the morning and don't think I got much more sleep after that, although I was woken up by my alarm during a dream about finding a large green frog in an underground car park.

I suppose you could say I'm feeling a bit fragile today: I even resorted to sitting in the SAC with a copy of the Metro (which I hadn't been able to read on the train as I usually do, because I hadn't managed to get hold of it until I got to South Kensington station) in my break between lectures because I just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. It's probably because I'm teetering on the brink of illness.

One amusing thing that happened this morning was a girl getting on my train with the intention of only travelling one stop. She phoned someone and told them that she'd gotten on the wrong train, and would get off at London Bridge to travel back. The whole carriage full of commuters started laughing to themselves, because we all knew full well that the train doesn't stop there, as it skips out the four stops between Ladywell, where she got on, and Waterloo East. Maybe this is why some trains have the infernal habit of announcing exactly where they're going and what the next stop is every two minutes?

Roll on tomorrow

2009-12-09T21:05:00.004Z

I'm now in possession of thirty-four cookies, into which I put chopped-up Terry's chocolate oranges to add a festive touch. There was a '3 for 2' offer on the chocolate oranges, which I took advantage of, so it looks like Rikki's going to get a small present tomorrow.

While I was baking, I did some cell biology revision, so I don't feel like I've completely wasted a night. I always revise cell biology as opposed to anything else, because I don't understand it at all. One day, I'll get round to doing the same for ecology.

I can feel another early night coming on: not so much because I'm tired, but because it'll make tomorrow come more quickly. I'm kind of hoping that Rikki won't be in, for the purely selfish reason that I won't have to wait around for four hours after my learning levels class. Mind you, if he is in, I'm more likely to get some work done. Well, as he always says, we'll see what happens.

Uncomfortably numb

2009-12-09T16:24:00.003Z

Today hasn't been good. My lectures have moved slightly past A-level now, so we're onto hybridised orbitals and shit like that, but that doesn't make the content any more interesting. I spent my lunchtime finishing my write-up of the horrible notes on invertebrates and talking to Amy on MSN, then popped down to the garages to see if Rikki was there. He wasn't.

Dejectedly, I went to Sainsbury's to get my baking ingredients, then home. It wasn't until I was on my train that Rikki texted to apologise, saying that he'd had to go home to fetch his suit.

As insane as it sounds, I haven't gone a day without seeing him since early October (I can hear my past self, queen of long-distance relationships, scoffing at me now). My mother is out tonight, so I have to stay here to look after the dogs with only the television, the oven, Doctor Who Magazine, and some revision notes for company.

Sometimes, I hate my life. Feel free to lambast me for being whiny, melodramatic or whatever.

Slight cock-up

2009-12-09T08:49:00.003Z

I was planning on staying at Rikki's tonight, but he's going to a fancy dinner with the Motor Club alumni, so I'm staying tomorrow instead. This means that baking and Rikki have effectively swapped days, and that I'm having to spend two evenings in a row at home. As much as it pains me to say this, it looks as though I'm going to have to do some work tonight.

My lectures start in ten minutes. Without wanting to sound like a depressive, I have nothing to look forward to today.

"He hums when I adjust the wavelength!"

2009-12-08T18:30:00.003Z

Many things annoy me. These include, but are not limited to: having a craving for a certain food and not being able to find it, rush-hour trains, small children, and getting home only to realise that dinner isn't going to be served for another hour.

In spite of the fact that I encountered all of these things tonight, I'm in a pretty good mood, which I'm going to put down to waking up next to my boyfriend this morning, and having gotten the post-practical assessment out of the way.

The practical involved recording light absorbance using a spectrophotometer, and washing up a lot of very small containers. Romy and I got oddly attached to the spectrophotometer, called Cecil in our instructions. We make good lab partners in that we get on well and are good at labour division, but bad in that neither of us tends to know what's going on. We just muddle through whatever we're supposed to be doing as best we can.

As far as I can tell, hardly anyone went to lectures this morning. Looks like we've all got our priorities sorted.

It was fine in the end

2009-12-08T12:29:00.000Z

Rikki solved yesterday's problem nicely by not coming in at all. After my disorganised but not very taxing problem class, I headed to Putney, and Rikki met me off the bus. We went to Sainsbury's, bought nachos to go with the leftover frozen chilli, and walked home in the rain. I was put in charge of carrying a sixteen-pack of loo roll, which I'm sure you can imagine was very fun.

I'm not complaining really. It was a lovely night, as our nights eating dinner whilst watching old-school Doctor Who always are. Rikki didn't realise that we were missing the launch party until about eight o' clock, by which point we were comfortably full and listening to the rain pissing down outside. There wasn't much incentive to leave the flat, so we didn't.

Because we didn't go to sleep until about three in the morning (although I did sleep through The Mighty Boosh on BBC3 at midnight without realising until Rikki woke me up and told me), I wasn't feeling particularly awake when the alarm went off at seven. In fact, I was so tired that I decided not to come in until this afternoon, and here I am. Granted, I have missed two lectures, but one was an easy one on chemical bonds, and the other was some keynote thing which can't be that important, seeing as the last one we had got cancelled and was never rescheduled. I'll download the slides anyway.

I just have to get through this practical, then I can go home.

Too tired to socialise

2009-12-07T13:36:00.003Z

I've spent nearly my whole lunchtime writing up notes on reptiles and birds, and I have a problem class in twenty minutes. I don't mind too much because biological chemistry, which we've just started, is pretty easy at the moment. Our lectures are just a rehash of A-level Chemistry and Physics and the notes are very good, so I don't need to pay much attention. Sadly, the easy part is countered by a difficult part: PyMol. This molecular modelling program is fiddly and unintuitive, and I'm effectively learning as I go because I can't be bothered to read the instructions. Perhaps I should do that.

Tonight, the UCL women's rugby team are launching their naked calendar. Rikki and I have been invited to the launch party, which takes place in a student pub near UCL and has an 'Anything But Clothes' theme (if I go, I'll wear a bin liner).

I really, really don't want to go. Monday night isn't really the best time to have any sort of party- though, in fairness, I think today was chosen because of the cheap drinks deals on a Monday- and I have no wish to be packed into a pub with several hundred half-clothed people, only about two of whom I actually know. Plus, we'd have to travel all the way to UCL.

I'd much rather go to the union bar for drinks, and then back to Putney for a quiet night in, but I'm staying at Rikki's tonight, so the decision rests on his shoulders.

People are stupid

2009-12-06T22:07:00.002Z

When I arrived at Putney station this morning, I noticed that there were two trains going to Waterloo (and stopping at exactly the same stations) due to arrive within four minutes of each other. The first train arrived: it was four carriages long, and had so many people in it that you would have thought it was six o' clock on a Monday evening, rather than nearly noon on a Sunday.

Nonetheless, everyone on the platform tried to pile on, and just about made it in. I hung back, as I wasn't in a tearing hurry to get to Waterloo, and could spare another four minutes to get on a hopefully less crowded train.

The next train arrived promptly, and to my delight, I saw that it was eight carriages long and practically empty. As I settled myself in my seat, I pondered the matter. Had the other people on the platform, who had piled into the rammed train, saw that there was another train due to arrive in less than five minutes but been in such a hurry that they took the first one; or did they just not notice at all?

One of my greatest curses is that I overthink things.

Keep the cat free

2009-12-06T16:10:00.005Z

Yesterday was good, as I'd expected. I took Amy to Imperial so that she could have a look round the mostly empty campus, then we walked to Hyde Park. The Christmas market was full of the expected German stands selling "XXL sausages" and gingerbread hearts, juxtaposed with stands from other countries and theme park rides, most of which I wouldn't say were particularly seasonal. Since when have haunted houses and pirate ships been associated with Christmas?

Seeing Amy again after a month and being able to have a gossip face-to-face was nice. Yes, 'nice' is a wishy-washy word, but that's what it was. She's turning into a right Audiology geek.

"He's got prosthetic ossicles!", she cried excitedly, referring to a patient she saw the other day.

Our walk, fuelled by sausages and German pancakes, took us all the way to Marble Arch. Amy decided to go home early, but had to take the train to mine first because she'd left her car parked outside my house. It was only three o' clock and there wasn't much point in me going home too, so she suggested I go to Rikki's before the Felix dinner.

When I got to his flat, I was greeted by him wearing nothing but a towel and shaving cream on his face: to my delight, he'd shaved off the much-maligned moustache.

"We've got half an hour to work out how to iron", he told me, referring to the fact that his shirt and trousers for the dinner were still lying crumpled in his room. By five o' clock, he'd managed to wrestle the creases and his hair into submission, only to have his hard work negated by the steady drizzle outside. By the time we got to Imperial, the creases were back.

The reception beforehand lasted a bit too long, in my opinion. In a slight contradiction of my previous post, I knocked back three complimentary glasses of Prosecco while we were waiting to go upstairs, and followed this up with three glasses of white wine and two glasses of port over the course of the dinner itself. They were only small glasses, though. I got a bit tispy, nowhere near drunk, and had completely sobered up by the time we left.

As a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm going to tell you what happened over the course of the night using some photos I took. What the photos don't show is that we had melon and Parma ham, duck and tiramisu to eat; and that I was chatted up by a Scottish graduate student who'd had rather too much to drink. I was trying to take a nap towards the end of the night when he decided to come and flirt with me in Rikki's full view. Thankfully, Rikki just found this hilarious.

"Where's your girlfriend?", I asked the drunken Scotsman, remembering that I'd seen them together at the reception.

"She went out with her friends", he replied, not put off touching me up at all.

He was very difficult to get rid of. Anyway, here are the photos.

"Take your beautiful girlfriend home", someone told Rikki.

I'd been tired during the reception at six and it was now significantly later, so I was over-tired and emotional by this point. We took the bus home, didn't get into bed until half past two, and I had to be home by lunchtime today to help my father with the dogs. Weirdly, I felt more lucid when I left than I usually do after spending the night at Rikki's, even though I'd had less sleep than I normally would have had on a Sunday morning.

In conclusion, it hasn't been a bad weekend at all. Alas, unlike last weekend, this one could only last two days.

What was I thinking?

2009-12-05T09:05:00.002Z

Thank fuck it's today. Amy will be here in an hour, then we have the whole day to wander around gossiping, before going our separate ways again: probably home, in her case, while I'm going to the Felix dinner with Rikki.

I was re-reading the diary I made this time last year, and came to the conclusion that November and December are my prime months for being on a downer (this was not helped last year by the fact that I was sort-of-going-out-with a complete wanker).

As I was saying to Rikki last night before I went to bed, it also made me grateful for what I have now. Things this time last year were going down the toilet, and it wasn't until some months later that I was able to pull them out.

In my defence

2009-12-04T18:21:00.003Z

I've got the whole evening ahead of me, so I thought I'd provide some reasons as to why I don't really drink.

I don't like the taste, hence why I often down drinks "to get rid of them". I also do this to impress people, but the taste is the deciding factor.
Back when I was teetotal, my stock reason was "I don't want to lose control". Before I'd ever been drunk, I was worried that I'd do some crazy shit; now I realise that I don't embarrass myself much more than when I'm sober, but I do lose control of my body and end up on the floor. Which I don't much like.
What I like even less than the dizziness and general loss of control are the memory blanks the next morning. While some people regard these as the benchmark of a good night, they terrify me slightly (and I'm still kicking myself for all but forgetting Rikki's important confession).
Speaking of Rikki's important confession, I hate throwing up. I'd make an excellent bulimic if it wasn't for this aversion. Please don't flame me for saying that, it was a joke.
Alcohol has the annoying effect of making me drowsy. Anyone who sees me frequently will vouch for me when I say that I'm not exactly energetic at the best of times, so feeding my tiredness with booze is just asking for trouble.
Another side-effect of drinking is that it makes me even hungrier than usual. I eat too much as it is!
I have yet to experience a hangover, and have no desire to do so.
It costs money. I'd rather spend money on cake, or clothes, or something that I'm actually going to enjoy experiencing.

I feel compelled to point out to my few readers that I have nothing against people who do drink: I have a "do what you like, just don't force me to get involved" mentality. Besides, my boyfriend is a self-confessed alcoholic.

The trick is to keep breathing

2009-12-04T18:04:00.002Z

Tonight is going to be depressing and work-filled. All I wanted to do was stay in the union bar, watch people have a drink, and go home with a slightly merry Rikki. Sadly, I can't do any of that because my mother is in Paris and my presence is apparently urgently required at home to look after the dogs. Mind you, even if my mother was here, I still wouldn't have been able to stay at Rikki's because I'm seeing Amy tomorrow morning, but at least I would have gone home in a considerably better mood.

It doesn't help that I had to get up at six to renew my monthly Travelcard, realised too late that this was excessively early, and ended up getting the train before my usual one.

My lectures were dull. Somehow, the lecturer managed to make human evolution- surely an interesting topic?- deathly boring. The lecture after that was just a recap of the six previous ones, and was therefore a total waste of time. To give you an idea of how bad it was, one of the workaholic Asian students fell asleep, and several people used the time to read Felix.

As usual, I had lunch in Falmouth, only this time it was cooked by Frank using Adam's food, because Simon was holed up in his room finishing his assessment. I gave them all cookies for their efforts, before going to meet my personal tutor for the first time. He's perfectly nice, but seeing as he's retiring at the end of this year and usually based at Silwood, I've decided to switch tutors. That should get sorted out soon.

After that, I met up with Chris (from the chocolate tasting) to give him a couple of cookies and have a gossip. There are still a couple of cookies left, which I've wrapped in foil for Amy.

I wish I was happier. I wish for a lot of things that are beyond my control.

You clever cookie

2009-12-03T22:18:00.006Z

It occurred to me shortly after writing that last post that I could take Amy to the Christmas markets on Saturday, as we'd been stuck for something to do. Problem solved.

I'm writing this fairly late because my baking has taken two hours, owing to the piddly size of our oven. No mutant cookies emerged, but three disintegrated when I tried to lift them off the baking tray, so I ate them to cover up my mistake. I'm currently trying to persuade Chris from the chocolate tasting to come to the SAF tomorrow to help me eat the others.

My tutorial this afternoon wasn't so bad, but I was slightly disappointed to see that I'd only gotten 52 for my essay on worms. Chris- not the chocolate tasting one, the ginger one in my tutorial group- did the same essay and got the same mark, though, so it's not as if I'm doing badly compared to everyone else.

I've spent rather a lot of time in the SAC today. There were three notable incidents:

I decided to help myself to some cranberry juice out of the fridge (it wasn't mine, but Rikki advocates stealing things from there), only to have something furry come out of the carton when I poured it. It resembled some kind of jellyfish, but it was probably just mould. Naturally, I didn't drink it.
Rikki decided that my laptop charger and bags constituted a trip hazard, and taped them to the floor. Yes, even the bags.
A girl came to the reception desk looking for a coat, which she'd left in the cloakroom in October. What she didn't know was that if such things are still unclaimed after two weeks, they are donated to charity. I asked her to describe her coat, and realised that it was the coat I purchased last week. Finders keepers?

Not quite a nightmare

2009-12-03T12:14:00.002Z

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. Rikki had woken me up at one in the morning because he couldn't sleep, and I'd had a horrible dream about the skin on my right leg peeling off. Not just the top layers like with sunburn, but a whole chunk of my epidermis; and to make things worse, there wasn't muscle underneath like you would expect, but white stuff that looked like brains.

My first thought upon waking up wasn't "I'm glad that was a dream because it means my leg is all right", but "I'm glad that was a dream because it means I don't have to go to the hospital"!

I only went in because my lectures at the moment don't have many notes to speak of, merely slides filled with pictures (and even then, the slides I printed off don't match up to the one my lecturers use, for some reason). Even then, I was late to both lectures: the first one because getting Rikki out of bed caused a slight delay, and the second one because I was waiting for Matt to print off his lecture notes. I went back to his room with him between lectures, and he gave me some pizza. I'm definitely not hungry for lunch now.

I was going to go to the Christmas market at Hyde Park later, but I may as well do that tomorrow because I'll be finished by three and said I wouldn't be home to look after the dogs until seven. As it is, I'll go home to do my baking after my tutorial, which finishes at four.

Rikki's not feeling any better than I am. No wonder he was a bit grumpy on the bus this morning.