Am supposed to be packing. But am quite well organised, if well organised means I have a list. So, packing is probably manageable in next day and half, even if I leave room in post-world-war-seventy-six-and-a-quarter-ish fashion.
Will be away from internet sort of things for a week until I get all the password type things that Uni make you get. Wail. Suppose will have to settle for trying to settle in. Have scooped together the coolest duvet covers, am going for the "Retro childhood" look with a full set of two Carebear covers. Am going to be the coolest girl on campus. Or something. Have stripy socks too, thanks to Nisa budget socks. Wootdehoottoot.
Have accommodation in a postgrad house, about 500m away from Uni. Not usual for undergraduates, but I begged accommodation service to let me be close to where the music places are, 'cause my 'Cello ain't light.
And despite what the dippy National Express PR lady says, it does not, and can not, fit in a medium sized suitcase.
Yes, I rang up National Express to enquire about how to get a 'Cello from Bournemouth to Amble, and the third person I spoke to said exactly that. Sigh. The guys on the GNER table at the MetroCentre, however, told me I could get it into the Guard's Van. Possibly. Although the idea of it gave the wibbles for half an hour. Thankfully parents have solved the problem, although it is probably not best to advertise how, as airships aren't exactly legal, I mean, not that I'm using an airship or anything, nooooooooo.
Have just finished copying Labyrinth soundtrack onto CD so that I don't have to take original. Did I mention how funny it is to see people dancing on a Dance Mat to it? Tres funny, even though Dance Mats are the product of the devil, andIjustboughtoneyesterday'causeit'spinkandfunny. Bought a whole hockload of camera films too, with which I shall photograph many things. My foot, my finger, another shot of my finger, a finger or two...
Anyhooze, better go pack. Much sighs.
See you on the other side,
Current Music: Dance Magic, David Bowie.
...when, after deleting all your Internet history, you saunter onto the Internet and type in the whole update.bml?mode=full onto the URL bar.
I have abandoned LJ of late, mainly due to own severe illness, of the designation "slothliness." Or perhaps just plain lazy. I shall attempt to summarise the gaps (okay, more among the lines of a crater, then a gap, or a gap of rohan-ish gap. Or perhaps just a GAP gap, as am sure that GAP stores are just black holes in a trendy-lemming-ish fashion.)
College is thankfully OVER. If I had to endure another day in there, I am quite sure I might have had to use my kidneys in a creative yet amusing fashion. No more enduring the painful sessions of "Quick, let's dodge E******** B***** by running half a mile around college" or "Dear God, is he trying to pretend he's a teenager again again?" or my wonderful Art sessions which just ended up being therapy. No more feeling squeamish every time I saw K******** P****** because I didn't get my piano music in quite on time, and as a result rushed in several performances before my Grade 7 exam. (Which I passed, with honours. Exactly the same mark as last year. Except examiner was sexier this time, like a cross between Sean Bean, Harrison Ford and Sean Connery. I swear.) Got required grades, even though my Art module grades slipped horrifically (eh, well, still got a B and that ain't shabby) and oh, who flippin' cares. I got enough to get to Bournemouth.
Bournemouth is where I am headed. The second move in a month. Move, you say? When didst thou move before? A coupla weeks ago, I moved to AMBLE. A place which has whored itself out to holiday makers as a Northern Torquay!Clone, but smaller. And shabbier. And, um, with not a lot to it really. Sorry to all those who like Amble, or live in Amble, it's just not really as quick or as clever as it would like to be. The only upside is that my room is a hot pink that makes all my clothes look a different colour. Also, it would cause tiniago
's eyeballs to implode at the sight of it. And that would be kind of amusing to see. Ha, ha.
The summer has all been about packing, so much so that I've lost my scanner's plug. Sigh. So, no photos to those I've promised them for a good few months while I either find it or find a replacement plug. Have found almost all my books, and my videos, and my 'cello music, so I suppose that's the important thing. Would probably have been a good thing if I could have found my underwear, but... (Joke, mostly.)
Unh, what else. I finally got to see "Highlander", having seen all three of the others. Got briefly addicted by the loveliness of "Firefly" (by briefly I mean rapaciously and repeatedly all summer, and it's still going.) Re-read William Goldman's "The Princess Bride", Orson Scott Card's (boo) "Ender's Game", Bill Bryson's "Mother Tongue", Meg Cabot's "Princess Diaries" (times 5) and about 20 Megs of CLex slash securely stored on my harddrive. Would have liked to admitted to some better pieces of literature (excluding some of the CLex stuff which rocked) but those books were in the last box I packed, so, enh.
So, if anyone wants my new address, and my term time address, e-mail me or ask in the comments section. Will try and update better in the future, although, this will probably be unsuccessful.
x Sodoto x
Current Music: She Will Be Loved, Maroon 5
Did skip college today, due to severe cramps that led to me having the inability to move. Wah. Did not miss much, only tutorial, where form tutor took people who turned up down to pub anyway. As am a teetotal, have had a narrow miss with being stuck in a crowded, stuffy building that smells of mouldy yeast for an hour!
Had replies from Bournemouth University today, from the two e-mails I sent inquiring about accommodation and music lessons. Apparently, this year, lessons are £16 an hour! Which, at twenty-five lessons, would be £400. As a very poor student hoping to attempt to live purely off student loan, this is very possibly going to be not possible. Shall have a talk with the AP's and see if they are amenable to a 50:50 arrangement. Is doubtful, but a possibility. Only other possibility would be to not have 'Cello lessons in the first year, and only attend orchestra, while saving enough from first year loan to pay for lessons in second year. And the accommodation email was quite... short. Have horrendous feeling that my prattling and wasting their time has just secured me the worst piece of property they have on file.
Well, such is life. Don't know why mum made me e-mail them now, when I'm already stressed out about the exams. Adding stress is going to make me fail the exams, and then I won't be going to Bournemouth and the whole thing is a "moo" (chortle) point.
Ordered a book about digital photography for dad's birthday. Hope he likes it. He's decided he wants to see a movie and have pizza on the actual day (which is obviously not a patch on the plans for my birthday celebrations - a 9am showing of Harry Potter on May 31st and a bbq on the actual day) and have a disturbed feeling that he is going to make us go see Troy.
While I am all for more people knowing the story of the Iliad, and not being scared away by Homer's warbling monstrosity of a text, I am somewhat disturbed that Brad Pitt looks like he's copied Russell Crowe's acting style. Will just be like Gladiator again, with random Orlando Bloom eye candy to pass the time along. Also, am dreading talking to my brother about it. He rather dryly informed me on MSN that Brad Pitt's character Achilles - much like Crowe's gladiator character - dies at the end. He, who has never read the Iliad. Me, who has. Can you say (oxy)moron?
Have renewed library books over the Internet, and am revelling in the whole newness and wonderfulness of it. Especially considering the last lot of books I borrowed from the college library I managed to make a year overdue. Ooops.
The "Fathers' of Justice" threw condoms filled with purple self-raising flour at the prime minister today. Is so much more amusing that last years superhero prankingness.
x Sodoto x
Current Mood: awake
Current Music: Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda; Beverley Knight
Today has been a long-ish day. You know the kind I mean, the kind that drags on forever. My first lesson today - English Language - was at 11:30, so I got a lift into college. The lessons are an hour and a half long, about twenty minutes too long, if you were wondering. About an hour and ten minutes into the lesson, it's all you can do to stay awake.
I'm quite sure it's not the lecturer's fault (although there are several things I'm sure we can blame on my English Language lecturer.) The heat is making the whole building overly stuffy and the effect is blindingly soporofic. Considering that the A2 exams sort of begin next week (well, they do for me, with an opening scorcher of a Pure Maths 2 module exam) I hope that this sleepifying-heat thing doesn't occur in the green exam huts. Else I'm rather buggered.
Then after the lesson I sauntered - as much as a rather-too-short-too-wide english girl can saunter - down to the refectory. Had just set up shop, sheltered by a wooden wobbly blue thing that no one knows why they're there for except to wobble and hit people randomly on the head, when Trev, Gary and Marty all joined me. It was a rumpus of disjointed card games, while Trev got confused about an impossible maths question and distracted by the card games, and Marty taught Gary a whole new game. Which I kind of understood, and thought for a while that I could play, until I realised that my thorough understanding of the game's subtle workings was down to the rather sublime fact that I could clearly see both hands of the game.
Unfortunately, the 'sharks started to bite' as my mother says, and I had to call my dad and ask for a lift. Even more unfortunately, dad was already in a bad mood because of the heat and the fact that he was running late (actually his own fault, due to his proclivity to stand and stare into oblivion for eight minutes when he's supposed to be doing things) and so snappishly barked down phone that mum would be there to pick me up. Toodled off, leaving Trev to hand in my maths and an apology for me. Ironic thing was, although all four of us - Trev, Gary, Marty and I - attend Mathematics on a fairly regular-ish basis, only Trev was going to the next lesson.
Mum picked me up, and hurtled me home in a less than smooth fashion. Dad's tendency to not allow her to drive much has left her with a little rough driviing style, with further prompts my dad not to let her drive much. So, I eventually ended up home, sat on the chair and staring blankly into the oblivion that dad seems so awfully fond of, wishing the cramps would get the hell away and somewhat contemplating suicide after glaring dubiously at said oblivion for a little while.
Cramps make your whole day seem longer. Good thing they're a grand excuse not to go into college tomorrow (although my only 'lesson', if you can condescend to call it that, is a glorified extended reconditioned PSE lesson, with more forms and a hell of a side order of boredom.) Of course, I could do without the pain, but this world is not quite perfect yet!
Until the next time, friends, comrades, countrymen,
x Sodoto x
Current Mood: *cramped*
Current Music: Pablo Casals, "The Swan."