This was originally going to be an in-depth analysis and story of what happened with Linda, to coincide with the ending of Valentine's Day (sort of), but I seriously can't be stuffed right now, and I really don't want to put myself through torture yet. So maybe later. A bit of inane rambling will do just find for now. And without (much) further ado, here it is.
I am a little bemused, and a lot jealous, of people who seem to have cameras with them wherever they go.
Routine lunch with friends? Check.
Dinner with family? Check.
Trip out to the city with friends? Check.
Lunch with friends at uni? Check.
Lying around doing nothing with friends? Check.
Walking the dog? Check.
Anything involving friends? Check.
These are all pretty cool, but the one that takes the cake is Grace's photos of her friends and her at the gym. The gym, for crying out loud. Who wants photos of themselves running at the gym?
Anyway, what amazes me as well is that these people can be bothered carrying a camera around with them. And it's a camera, not a phone. The photos are too good to be from a phone. I mean, my camera's as portable as they come. It's actually smaller than my hand, both in thickness and every other possible dimension. And I can't even be bothered carrying that around. Respect to y'all camera toters for dedication.
Word of the Day: Camera
Currently listening to: D.O.A. (Death of Auto- Tune) by Jay-Z
Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
Last Official Day Of Uni 2009
Oh my, it's the end of the academic year already, bar my French oral on Friday.
I'm sort of bittersweet about this semester ending actually. For parts of it, I've had a torrid time. Floods of work, assignments and other issues on the one hand, but I've never had so much fun on the other.
Thus, it was very fitting that today was a day of academic extremity.
My French listening test went fine and dandy. Possibly the easiest shot at 10 per centing I'll ever get in my life. Hopefully I don't jinx it.
Then, I went and go my French culture essay back with a P+. Ah, that plus made it so much better. And I thought, "That's what you get when you cobble something together in 45 mins." Not exactly an unexpected mark, considering how I randomly spoke about segregation in America with no sources at all.
The cobbling theory turned out to be untrue. My 3000 word Management essay, which cobbled together in two nights, got returned to me with a 61 on the front. Which I was quite satisfied with, considering the effort I put in. But then, I turned to the last page, and there was a HD. Quite scary, the stuff you can produce in two sleep-deprived nights. I think it's to do with the fact that I sound smart when I write essays, because I deconstruct the essay topic and take a new vantage point on it that I don't think anybody else does. And I think one of the strengths of my essays is the fact that it links back to the questions and links all the elements of the questions together. Because it was a fairly hard topic, as it drew on three different areas of the stuff we're doing. So yeah. It's not really to do with my skill at management, but more to do with essay writing.
But the bad thing about that is that every single time I do it, it feels like a fluke and I feel like I don't deserve it, because I see people that actually time-manage well, and work really hard, and yeah. It just doesn't click for them.
Also, today I think I made up with people that had felt the brunt of my tetchy mood yesterday. Hopefully I've made amends. But I swear that door to R1 is ridiculously light. I did not mean to rip it from it's hinges. It's made of paper or something. I swear.
Anyway, enough language analysis and moping. Time for some irony.
So I separately tried to arrange to catch the bus home at the same time with two separate people, those people being Grace and Banh. I got rebuffed on two separate occasions by two separate people. Grace is all like, "Oh, I never actually go home after uni, I'm more of a club person," and Banh's all like "Uni's for losers. *Sleeps*". End result: solitary journey home. Story of my life.
Word of the Day: Cobble
I'm sort of bittersweet about this semester ending actually. For parts of it, I've had a torrid time. Floods of work, assignments and other issues on the one hand, but I've never had so much fun on the other.
Thus, it was very fitting that today was a day of academic extremity.
My French listening test went fine and dandy. Possibly the easiest shot at 10 per centing I'll ever get in my life. Hopefully I don't jinx it.
Then, I went and go my French culture essay back with a P+. Ah, that plus made it so much better. And I thought, "That's what you get when you cobble something together in 45 mins." Not exactly an unexpected mark, considering how I randomly spoke about segregation in America with no sources at all.
The cobbling theory turned out to be untrue. My 3000 word Management essay, which cobbled together in two nights, got returned to me with a 61 on the front. Which I was quite satisfied with, considering the effort I put in. But then, I turned to the last page, and there was a HD. Quite scary, the stuff you can produce in two sleep-deprived nights. I think it's to do with the fact that I sound smart when I write essays, because I deconstruct the essay topic and take a new vantage point on it that I don't think anybody else does. And I think one of the strengths of my essays is the fact that it links back to the questions and links all the elements of the questions together. Because it was a fairly hard topic, as it drew on three different areas of the stuff we're doing. So yeah. It's not really to do with my skill at management, but more to do with essay writing.
But the bad thing about that is that every single time I do it, it feels like a fluke and I feel like I don't deserve it, because I see people that actually time-manage well, and work really hard, and yeah. It just doesn't click for them.
Also, today I think I made up with people that had felt the brunt of my tetchy mood yesterday. Hopefully I've made amends. But I swear that door to R1 is ridiculously light. I did not mean to rip it from it's hinges. It's made of paper or something. I swear.
Anyway, enough language analysis and moping. Time for some irony.
So I separately tried to arrange to catch the bus home at the same time with two separate people, those people being Grace and Banh. I got rebuffed on two separate occasions by two separate people. Grace is all like, "Oh, I never actually go home after uni, I'm more of a club person," and Banh's all like "Uni's for losers. *Sleeps*". End result: solitary journey home. Story of my life.
Word of the Day: Cobble
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
By popular demand
It was a cold and blustery day outside. Ben Niles walked into the Curry Corner at the Matheson Library. A few moments later, Imesha followed in his wake. Ben plonked himself down on a chair, and began nonchalantly chewing on the apple that he'd procured from his bag. He looked at Imesha, and a spark of lightning *zap* sprung between them. It was electric. I could almost feel the electricity lifting my hair up, and it seemed as if the very air was infused with a mosaic of colours stemming from this spark. Twas a happy spark, full of joy and wonderment, suffusing the very fabric of space and time with awesomeness. The Matheson would never be the same again.
__________________
So the challenge was to fit Ben, Imesha, apple, lightning and mosaic into my blog post without making any of it up. It's not half bad, is it? None of it was made up, maybe just slightly embellished and exaggerated. But I thought it was pretty decent, considering I've had 4 hours of sleep and have been pretty flat out since last night.
I worked until 1 last night (this morning, if you want to be pedantic about it) on my International Studies essay. Wrote up all 1500 words last night. Surely that's how masterpieces are created. Woke up at 5 this morning to start and finish French homework, which I miraculously succeeded in doing in the hour that I had. Then I went swimming and got asked for my student ID because I clearly look 50 years old with these glasses. Went to uni, started an essay-fixing session at 9, printed essay off, handed it in, went to Management tute, got bored, talked to Grace on MSN, laptop died, tute finished half an hour early just like every other week, moseyed down to the Law Lib. Finally, I stopped for half an hour and just absorbed the ambiance of peace and quiet. Then, it started up again. GMC meeting.
I think I was the only person there with a functioning brain, which tells a story of its own really. Andrew and functioning brain generally cannot be used in the same sentence. However, in this case, it's a comparative term. Between a person with 0 hours of sleep, an alcoholic and a Tamiflu snorter, I think I emerge as the winner of the Sanity Battle. It turned out well, capped of by Ray actually believing that Anna was tired from a 7 hour GMCfest. You a funny man, Raymond.
And it doesn't stop there. Oh no. It never does stop there in Andrew's life. There's more. French culture assignment due on Friday, which I have not started, and International Studies test on Monday. Oh, the joys of pre-exam period. But I have a masterplan worked out. Not that my plans usually work to the degree that I expect them to, if they work at all, but I feel more secure about myself with a plan up my sleeve. It usually makes the fall of the plan harder to take, but I'll take it nonetheless.
Word of the Day: Flat
__________________
So the challenge was to fit Ben, Imesha, apple, lightning and mosaic into my blog post without making any of it up. It's not half bad, is it? None of it was made up, maybe just slightly embellished and exaggerated. But I thought it was pretty decent, considering I've had 4 hours of sleep and have been pretty flat out since last night.
I worked until 1 last night (this morning, if you want to be pedantic about it) on my International Studies essay. Wrote up all 1500 words last night. Surely that's how masterpieces are created. Woke up at 5 this morning to start and finish French homework, which I miraculously succeeded in doing in the hour that I had. Then I went swimming and got asked for my student ID because I clearly look 50 years old with these glasses. Went to uni, started an essay-fixing session at 9, printed essay off, handed it in, went to Management tute, got bored, talked to Grace on MSN, laptop died, tute finished half an hour early just like every other week, moseyed down to the Law Lib. Finally, I stopped for half an hour and just absorbed the ambiance of peace and quiet. Then, it started up again. GMC meeting.
I think I was the only person there with a functioning brain, which tells a story of its own really. Andrew and functioning brain generally cannot be used in the same sentence. However, in this case, it's a comparative term. Between a person with 0 hours of sleep, an alcoholic and a Tamiflu snorter, I think I emerge as the winner of the Sanity Battle. It turned out well, capped of by Ray actually believing that Anna was tired from a 7 hour GMCfest. You a funny man, Raymond.
And it doesn't stop there. Oh no. It never does stop there in Andrew's life. There's more. French culture assignment due on Friday, which I have not started, and International Studies test on Monday. Oh, the joys of pre-exam period. But I have a masterplan worked out. Not that my plans usually work to the degree that I expect them to, if they work at all, but I feel more secure about myself with a plan up my sleeve. It usually makes the fall of the plan harder to take, but I'll take it nonetheless.
Word of the Day: Flat
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