Today, I have had a small snapshot of relief.
Lab wasn't a completely terribly awful disaster! (Mainly because demonstrator dude practically did my whole experiment himself...) Successfully managed to fit it a few laughs along the way, too:
"ye, cos I is from da ghetto, innit"
"The only reason they do everything for her is cos she gives 'em head"
"I know I'm just going to fuck it up again"
"well, you are the lab fucker, eh!?"
Ta, sweetie, said that a little too loudly, eh?!
Smiles in adversity. I don't do sex for grades. Honest. It's a mere bonus ;o)
On the jukebox: The Beautiful South ~ Song For Whoever
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
Southern Fairy
Today, I have considered regional issues.
I don't really like northern accents. Maybe that's not something I should be admitting within regionally dispersed company, but since I never hear any of you talk, it shouldn't be an issue. ;o)
Perhaps my problems with the accent lie with the particular people I associate it with. Despite attending university where the majority of students are from the south (or London, basically) the people I live with are mostly northern. I didn't even think about a divide of that kind before I came here, and besides it probably wouldn't have been one of my main considerations in applying for universities.
For most students, going to university is the first time they've truly experienced life outside of the immediate vicinity and they don't always have a real idea of the differences between the life they're used to. Increasingly, I discover stark differences between northern and southern, distinctions that stretch beyond whether it's called a 'cob', a 'roll' or a 'bap'. I can't pretend like some people's accents don't grate a little.
Awfully snobby, I'm sure, for me to put so much emphasis on something so insignificant as a person's pronouciation. I suppose, as a creature of comfort, I like what I'm familiar with. I like talking to people who sound sort of similar to me. I don't like the sound of my own voice anyway, it's even more distinguishable when I talk to people who all have totally different accents to myself.
The general banter and the odd quip can be fun, diversity is healthy and all, and stereotypes are bound to crop up somewhere - it's all jokes, innit? I don't recall ever having played the "superior southerner" card, honestly, I didn't realise it was such a huge deal until I came here. I don't like the feeling of not fitting in; I do tend to find I prefer southerners to northerners. Huge generalisation, I'm sure, but there you go, that's me - shallow, close-minded and offensive. Sorry.
On the jukebox: Oasis ~ Married with Children
I don't really like northern accents. Maybe that's not something I should be admitting within regionally dispersed company, but since I never hear any of you talk, it shouldn't be an issue. ;o)
Perhaps my problems with the accent lie with the particular people I associate it with. Despite attending university where the majority of students are from the south (or London, basically) the people I live with are mostly northern. I didn't even think about a divide of that kind before I came here, and besides it probably wouldn't have been one of my main considerations in applying for universities.
For most students, going to university is the first time they've truly experienced life outside of the immediate vicinity and they don't always have a real idea of the differences between the life they're used to. Increasingly, I discover stark differences between northern and southern, distinctions that stretch beyond whether it's called a 'cob', a 'roll' or a 'bap'. I can't pretend like some people's accents don't grate a little.
Awfully snobby, I'm sure, for me to put so much emphasis on something so insignificant as a person's pronouciation. I suppose, as a creature of comfort, I like what I'm familiar with. I like talking to people who sound sort of similar to me. I don't like the sound of my own voice anyway, it's even more distinguishable when I talk to people who all have totally different accents to myself.
The general banter and the odd quip can be fun, diversity is healthy and all, and stereotypes are bound to crop up somewhere - it's all jokes, innit? I don't recall ever having played the "superior southerner" card, honestly, I didn't realise it was such a huge deal until I came here. I don't like the feeling of not fitting in; I do tend to find I prefer southerners to northerners. Huge generalisation, I'm sure, but there you go, that's me - shallow, close-minded and offensive. Sorry.
On the jukebox: Oasis ~ Married with Children
Monday, 4 February 2008
Warm Fuzzy
Radiator-heated cosy pyjamas
With washed, clean and fresh hair
Baby-smooth skin and soft lips
In between comfy sheets
Phone call from a special friend
And a film never seen before
(confidently confirmed as good watching)
Equals contentment, for now.
On the jukebox: 3 Doors Down ~ Let Me Go
With washed, clean and fresh hair
Baby-smooth skin and soft lips
In between comfy sheets
Phone call from a special friend
And a film never seen before
(confidently confirmed as good watching)
Equals contentment, for now.
On the jukebox: 3 Doors Down ~ Let Me Go
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Friendly Faces
What is this life if, full of stats,
We have no time to sit for chats.
No time to lie beneath the skies
And chat, to listen and advise.
No time to think, when days we pass,
“We must enjoy this while it lasts”
No time to spend a sleepover night
Watch darkness turn then into light
No time to see to friendly faces,
And experience their warm embraces.
No time to wait till laughter brings
An appreciation of simple things.
A poor life this if, full of stats,
We have no time to sit for chats.
/blatant plagurism
On the bookshelf: W. H. Davies ~ Leisure
We have no time to sit for chats.
No time to lie beneath the skies
And chat, to listen and advise.
No time to think, when days we pass,
“We must enjoy this while it lasts”
No time to spend a sleepover night
Watch darkness turn then into light
No time to see to friendly faces,
And experience their warm embraces.
No time to wait till laughter brings
An appreciation of simple things.
A poor life this if, full of stats,
We have no time to sit for chats.
/blatant plagurism
On the bookshelf: W. H. Davies ~ Leisure
University Upsets
Today, I have arrived back in my university town.
The way I see it: I have no other options.
If I did, perhaps I wouldn't be here. Uni is what we people do, right?
Only 3 more semesters to go...
On the jukebox: Elton John ~ Tiny Dancer
The way I see it: I have no other options.
If I did, perhaps I wouldn't be here. Uni is what we people do, right?
Only 3 more semesters to go...
...and then what?
On the jukebox: Elton John ~ Tiny Dancer
Saturday, 2 February 2008
Disc Dive
Today, I have despaired over the demise of CDs.
Of course, I have a generic digital compact music player, because, hey, who doesn't these days? But I love my CD collection. Admittedly, it's not even particularly vast, but it is ever increasing. Despite the fact that it's far more frugal and facile to download a track from a website, whether it be paid for or illegally obtained for free, that doesn't mean that CDs are dead.
Times are achanging though, no longer do the main generic music stores have the music discs displayed at the front, or even on the bottom floor. Now, it's a trip upstairs, or down to the back to find an obscure album that isn't in the charts or the sale. Now, it's the DVDs that take centre stage, I suppose as its harder and more morally reprehensible to download movies rather than music.
Personally, I prefer to have something tangible in my hand, in front of me; browsing the selections; the thrill of purchasing new listening material. Plus, I spend to much time on the internet already; I like to be able to leave the house to go shopping. And at least if I buy music, one size fits all, and the discs don't tend to fall out halfway through the evening...
On the jukebox: The Buggles ~ Video Killed The Radio Star
Of course, I have a generic digital compact music player, because, hey, who doesn't these days? But I love my CD collection. Admittedly, it's not even particularly vast, but it is ever increasing. Despite the fact that it's far more frugal and facile to download a track from a website, whether it be paid for or illegally obtained for free, that doesn't mean that CDs are dead.
Times are achanging though, no longer do the main generic music stores have the music discs displayed at the front, or even on the bottom floor. Now, it's a trip upstairs, or down to the back to find an obscure album that isn't in the charts or the sale. Now, it's the DVDs that take centre stage, I suppose as its harder and more morally reprehensible to download movies rather than music.
Personally, I prefer to have something tangible in my hand, in front of me; browsing the selections; the thrill of purchasing new listening material. Plus, I spend to much time on the internet already; I like to be able to leave the house to go shopping. And at least if I buy music, one size fits all, and the discs don't tend to fall out halfway through the evening...
On the jukebox: The Buggles ~ Video Killed The Radio Star
Friday, 1 February 2008
February Febreze
Today, I have seen in the new month.
White rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits.
New month, new start? That's what I said last month. (Except last month it was new year and new month, so an even bigger occasion...) January has been long. January has been dark. The fourth Monday in January is often cited as "the worst day of the year" for reasons that can be easily deduced. January has produced over forty entries of my day-to-day life. I am glad to see the back of January.
Yet why should we be waiting to make a better beginning, always? Why hold out for a defined point? I suppose it gives a opportunity for a standard measured comparision. I am holding out for the end of this week, not just because it brings the weekend, a slice of respite, but also because it holds the hope for a fresh start. So that I can look back at Feburary and say, hey, that was a successful month.
It's not always easy to see the bigger picture, and so perhaps in this case, it's better to take things day by day. Start as you mean to go on, by all means, but don't stop if you slip from what you started. So that I can look back at Today, and say, hey, that was a good day. So that I can look forward to Tomorrow and say, hey, I can make it a great day.
Here's to February, and all that it brings - birthdays, better days, love days and laughter days.
The days are getting lighter and spring is on its way.
On the jukebox: Josh Groban ~ February Song
White rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits.
New month, new start? That's what I said last month. (Except last month it was new year and new month, so an even bigger occasion...) January has been long. January has been dark. The fourth Monday in January is often cited as "the worst day of the year" for reasons that can be easily deduced. January has produced over forty entries of my day-to-day life. I am glad to see the back of January.
Yet why should we be waiting to make a better beginning, always? Why hold out for a defined point? I suppose it gives a opportunity for a standard measured comparision. I am holding out for the end of this week, not just because it brings the weekend, a slice of respite, but also because it holds the hope for a fresh start. So that I can look back at Feburary and say, hey, that was a successful month.
It's not always easy to see the bigger picture, and so perhaps in this case, it's better to take things day by day. Start as you mean to go on, by all means, but don't stop if you slip from what you started. So that I can look back at Today, and say, hey, that was a good day. So that I can look forward to Tomorrow and say, hey, I can make it a great day.
Here's to February, and all that it brings - birthdays, better days, love days and laughter days.
The days are getting lighter and spring is on its way.
On the jukebox: Josh Groban ~ February Song
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