Wow! What a hullaballuha that was! However, you have no idea what I am talking about. I had lost my password for this blog, and was unsure as to which email account I had used to set it up. Somehow in the process of discovering my password I had managed to create a new blog, with the exact name as this one, and was confused as to why I could not find my previous post. Luckily I finally located it and the world is at rights again.
My brother also has started a blog, but with the exact same template as mine. So out of protest I changed mine. It’s a bit of a pyrrhic victory seeing as the colours of my blog have no effect on the world what-so-ever and I rather liked my blog as it was.
Onto the sea-side soiree. My friend Mily and I arranged a rather perfect barbeque on the beach. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was the guest-list. I made these stunningly beautiful kebabs, of chicken, courgettes, peppers, and topped with a bit of caramelised orange. They were so beautiful they made me want to cry (okay, they looked nice but that’s a bit over-the-top). I had brought burgers, cheese slices, slices of tomatoes, diced onions and everything to have an enjoyable evening. But in all honesty, I didn’t really enjoy it, and nor did Mily. I felt totally subservient to the people that came, because all the interaction there was consisted of me handing food to other people. Some people were extremely demanding and made a joke about me being paid to be a butler next year. Then after they were satiated they just watched Mily and I as we tidied up. Basically after we had done our job we were just completely superfluous and unnecessary. Mily was pretty much totally ignored which was even worse for her. There were some people that restored my faith in humanity, but again the efforts were pyrrhic too. So we decided to go back to hers and watch a couple of movies, which cheered us up (the booze helped as well). So I staggered- well I was more exhausted than drunk- in at 4 am.
But as Mily and I reflected, yesterday was just another day and we probably won’t even remember it by the end of University.
Sunday, 29 April 2007
Friday, 23 March 2007
Books and Big Brother, 12/3/07
This post covers quite a few weeks so it should really be called The Weeks that Were– but that sounds like some 1970s trashy romance that middle-aged women read while on a plane travelling to the Maldives.
As you sit reading this you may take comfort in the fact that you have aided me in postponing a Sophoclean ordeal. Not because it involves children having children by their parents or the downfall of entire families in one tragic swoop, but merely I have to write an essay on Antigone. I find reading the Classic texts a Herculean task in itself, let alone writing two thousand words on the theme of contrasts in the first play of the Theban trilogy. I’m quite behind on my texts in all three modules, but luckily for me I have near-perfected the art of ‘blagging’ my way through a seminar. Talking about unfinished books, today the BBC published a list of top ten fiction and non-fiction books that are most likely to be left unfinished by Britons. In the fiction category includes, to little surprise, War and Peace, Crime and Punishment, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin and, possibly more surprisingly, the fourth Harry Potter. The non-fiction entries are more baffling though. I can understand why Jade Goody’s book, creatively named Jade: My Autobiography, is left unread but it’s anyone’s guess to why people bought it in the first place. In my top ten list would be The Way of the World, Vurt, and anything pre-a.d. 500. So going back to the weeks that were: and quite a lot has happened.
This will begin with the family visit. I’ve made it sound like an ominous troupe of stalwart in-laws invading this pleasant little seaside town, but it wasn’t. It was a thoroughly enjoyable, albeit a somewhat muddy, affair. My parents and Stephen arrived on Friday 23rd February (yes, that long ago) and the weekend included a trip to Devil’s Bridge and the surrounding waterfalls; a meal at Shilam, an Indian restaurant; visits to The Orangery; and going to St. Mike’s. The muddy bit was on the afternoon of Sunday 25th. I planned a walk up Pen Dinas, a hill which I’ve previous walked, and previously the paths had been dry. However, in advising that walking shoes where unnecessary I had not considered the recent meteorological behaviour within Aberystwyth’s environs. The terrain proved treacherous, and what I mean by treacherous is very, very, slippery. However, we survived and were back in time for St. Mike’s evening service. Monday I got up early and waved my family off, filled with mixed emotions: sadness and relief.
The following Friday, a meal at Wetherspoons was followed by a couple of drinks and deserts at The Orangery, as there was a latin/gypsy band, mostly playing tunes from the film Chocolat. On Saturday I went out to Wetherspoons again, with Jane, and then went to Scholars. Saturday was a marking point in my life, as I went to my first ever night-club. I had avoided them because I assumed they would be filled with crazed-drunken people and the floors would be sticky due to years of spilt drinks and stomach fluids. That night my assumptions were confirmed.
Fast-forward to the next weekend, and the last section of my update. On Friday (now being 9th March) I went to Caffi Blue Creek, after my afternoon lecture, with Jenny and Mily. After being there for about three hours I went to CU, with Mily, then re-joined Jenny and went to Scholars. We then went to 24-hour Spar for nibbles and sat on the jetty and chatted. Saturday we went to an under-25 Christian event, ‘Breathe’, which I really liked but it wasn’t the cup of tea of some of my friends. After that I went for another sea-side jolly with Becca, Rachel, Rachel, Abi and Mily. We were standing on the sea front when Mily thought it would be a good idea to say ‘It isn’t that rough tonight’. Within thirty seconds a large wave hit the sea wall throwing spray metres into the air soaking me and Mily. That will teach us for standing to close to the edge (and before you cry ‘Be careful else you’ll get swept out!’ there is a barrier, and if it was that choppy the wind would keep us from walking anywhere, let alone into the foaming deep).
To conclude, the overall moral of the update is: don’t read books if they’re by Russians or Big Brother contestants. That was the week that was.
As you sit reading this you may take comfort in the fact that you have aided me in postponing a Sophoclean ordeal. Not because it involves children having children by their parents or the downfall of entire families in one tragic swoop, but merely I have to write an essay on Antigone. I find reading the Classic texts a Herculean task in itself, let alone writing two thousand words on the theme of contrasts in the first play of the Theban trilogy. I’m quite behind on my texts in all three modules, but luckily for me I have near-perfected the art of ‘blagging’ my way through a seminar. Talking about unfinished books, today the BBC published a list of top ten fiction and non-fiction books that are most likely to be left unfinished by Britons. In the fiction category includes, to little surprise, War and Peace, Crime and Punishment, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin and, possibly more surprisingly, the fourth Harry Potter. The non-fiction entries are more baffling though. I can understand why Jade Goody’s book, creatively named Jade: My Autobiography, is left unread but it’s anyone’s guess to why people bought it in the first place. In my top ten list would be The Way of the World, Vurt, and anything pre-a.d. 500. So going back to the weeks that were: and quite a lot has happened.
This will begin with the family visit. I’ve made it sound like an ominous troupe of stalwart in-laws invading this pleasant little seaside town, but it wasn’t. It was a thoroughly enjoyable, albeit a somewhat muddy, affair. My parents and Stephen arrived on Friday 23rd February (yes, that long ago) and the weekend included a trip to Devil’s Bridge and the surrounding waterfalls; a meal at Shilam, an Indian restaurant; visits to The Orangery; and going to St. Mike’s. The muddy bit was on the afternoon of Sunday 25th. I planned a walk up Pen Dinas, a hill which I’ve previous walked, and previously the paths had been dry. However, in advising that walking shoes where unnecessary I had not considered the recent meteorological behaviour within Aberystwyth’s environs. The terrain proved treacherous, and what I mean by treacherous is very, very, slippery. However, we survived and were back in time for St. Mike’s evening service. Monday I got up early and waved my family off, filled with mixed emotions: sadness and relief.
The following Friday, a meal at Wetherspoons was followed by a couple of drinks and deserts at The Orangery, as there was a latin/gypsy band, mostly playing tunes from the film Chocolat. On Saturday I went out to Wetherspoons again, with Jane, and then went to Scholars. Saturday was a marking point in my life, as I went to my first ever night-club. I had avoided them because I assumed they would be filled with crazed-drunken people and the floors would be sticky due to years of spilt drinks and stomach fluids. That night my assumptions were confirmed.
Fast-forward to the next weekend, and the last section of my update. On Friday (now being 9th March) I went to Caffi Blue Creek, after my afternoon lecture, with Jenny and Mily. After being there for about three hours I went to CU, with Mily, then re-joined Jenny and went to Scholars. We then went to 24-hour Spar for nibbles and sat on the jetty and chatted. Saturday we went to an under-25 Christian event, ‘Breathe’, which I really liked but it wasn’t the cup of tea of some of my friends. After that I went for another sea-side jolly with Becca, Rachel, Rachel, Abi and Mily. We were standing on the sea front when Mily thought it would be a good idea to say ‘It isn’t that rough tonight’. Within thirty seconds a large wave hit the sea wall throwing spray metres into the air soaking me and Mily. That will teach us for standing to close to the edge (and before you cry ‘Be careful else you’ll get swept out!’ there is a barrier, and if it was that choppy the wind would keep us from walking anywhere, let alone into the foaming deep).
To conclude, the overall moral of the update is: don’t read books if they’re by Russians or Big Brother contestants. That was the week that was.
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