>> vertiginously eclectic

9:50am: I'm going to see Morrissey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



As you were.
xxxxx

9:42pm: Library Books
In front of me is a copy of a slightly pompous and humourous critique, of sorts, of Proust.
The book is an original copy from 1928 published by the Woolfs at the Hogarth Press.
It's possibly been recovered and is looking a bit worn. I'd say it's quite impressive though and an example of some the perhaps super-rare things you can find in the university library.
Why then, has someone HIGHLIGHTED SECTIONS OF IT WITH BIRO!?!?!
I have difficulty writing in pencil in my books; I certainly wouldn't go near an almost ninety year old book - even with a pencil.
Have you ever drawn on a library book? Highlighted something?
Who does this sort of thing?!?!
Who are these people!?!

I think I should channel the rage this has created into my work. I'm not sure I really need an angry essay though. Hmmpf.

In other completely hypocritical news, I got out another book that I'd really like to steal. It's only from 1999 and about 75 pages long.. but it's amazing and I can't find another copy anywhere - except second hand and poor condition on Amazon for £98! Of course I can't bring myself to do it, even knowing that I'll probably only be charged for what it originally cost which is likely to be about a fiver. It's just wrong and I'm annoyed with myself for even suggesting it. But oh! Lovely book!

I should perhaps just get on reading lovely books and making a dent larger than 300 words into the 5000 remaining, shouldn't I?

4:05am: Need help just ask
Stuart is ACE.

F
A
C
T

x

10:00pm: Anna Nicole Smith has died.

This makes me very sad. Celebrity is such a horrid thing. So if you do one thing tonight, raise a glass to her. Who's it going to hurt? x

11:49pm: You wait mate.
You wait til armaggedon.
You wait til armageddon.
And I'm a getting out of here.

It doesn't make a good livejournal entry. Says Ron.
Clare relies too much on physical humour.

1:40pm: Twice in a month? You lucky-lucky peee-pow. Hallo then. Hope you're all well. I've seen some of you recently; that's been nice. Have been enormously busy avoiding doing any work, going out and getting no sleep I'm sure you'll all be glad to know. Such is the problem with only being at university two days in any week. Things will change come 2007 though.

Last weekend I took a trip to Bermondsey. It's alright, JDC lives there, but there's nothing much else going on. Red wine, Morrissey, homemade yorkshire puddings, vegan dessert? More of this please. From there I went to see Emmy The Great at the Old Blue Last. Noah and the Whale and her are both lovely albeit completely, completely emo-tastic. I don't know what's come over me. I shamelessly ripped off the Viva Cake girls by providing The Crimea and their fans with home-baked delights on Monday night at The Windmill (but I'm not scabby enough to charge people for them like they do). There was some cake then, some drinking, some dancing, a crash helmet, three mentals and some very sore feet. Last night they played to an arena full of people. I am very proud. They play at Wembley in a few weeks. Am hoping someone can get me a ticket from somewhere, I don't think it's often people get to see their boyfriend onstage at, well, a massive and souless yet very famous venue in the arse end of London. How exciting! There's something else coming too. Which will bring more cake. (Watch this space and all that, blah blah.)

In other news I have recently: watched someone eat an emu burger, baked more times than I can count, swapped seeing Damien Rice with 100 people for sleep, spent far too long playing my violin along to the Arcade Fire, eaten masses of Cambozola, bought outrageous shoes, seen comedians perform at Oxfam, seen my Dad do karaoke, heard the new Crimea record, learnt the names of every member of Paris Motel, ish, made soup from scratch, seen the and started planning what will surely be the best christmas ever.

Laters!

4:19pm: Hallo often neglected livejournal, and how are you?

Having had quite enough of talking about my life I thought I'd stop by and give you all some rather wonderful news that you might not know should you, for some reason or other, not have been watching the World Rowing Championships this afternoon. If you've been out with me but at all in the past year you'll no doubt have met Martyna my unfortunately now ex-flatmate. She has been rowing for but a few months and said World Rowing Championships she did attend this week. Having never been in a race in her life she came second in her heat (almost first might I add) on Friday and today arrived at the Grand Final. I watched her on the television sneak up at the last hurdle and snatch the bronze medal for Poland by .11 of a second. A medal. At the World Championships. Cripes. I felt so proud I cried and phoned to find her on cloud nine.

So yes, should you be indulging in any Bank Holiday booze-related festivities, do remember to raise a glass to dear old Martyna, rowing champion and generally Ace Bird.

In other news I have learnt all about punctuation (although I know I've made some hideous comma faux-pas already) AND found the crevice attachment for my hoover. I'd be enormously content if only I had somewhere to live in, ooh, three weeks time when I start back at university.

If life gives you lemons take some valium, have a cigarette and go and see The Crimea and Paris Motel at the Spitz.

11:32am: Have I grown weary of documenting my life on the internet?
Or have I grown wary?
I know what both mean, I'm just not sure I guess.

6:02pm: Supressing rage with hobnobs.

Must. Get. Out. Of. Here.

7:43pm: Sometimes, I think, our family may be cursed.

This morning, between alarms, I had a semi-inappropriate dream about the man who presents DIY SOS. My dreams, curiously, are always rather straightforward affairs, being generally literal, occasionally predicting the future (yes, really) and never being of the kind of symbolic airy-fairy acid-trip things that many have come to think of to typify night time thoughts. Instead of, obviously, a sign of some kind of action it would, of course, be a prediction of the further DIY nightmares to befall Chez Nightingale this afternoon.

After another failed attempt at fixing the leak in our bathroom that has forced the removal of our bathroom flooring and has, also, removed part of the kitchen ceiling beneath it we thought we'd try our hand at something altogether easier. "Oh it won't be hard to replace some light switches and fixings now will it!?" we laughed jovially. Until we realised the wall was made of what, at best, you could describe as crumbled plaster and string and the light box behind was, well, broken, By the time we had removed said box we had, unfortunately, removed part of the wall also, and now there appears to be no hope of light returning to my bedroom with anything resembling immediacy,

Balls.

However, Dad is insistant we needn't call DIY SOS afterall as, looking on the bright side of things (yes he sang the song as well), we didn't manage to blow all the fuses in the house or anything so that can only be a good thing. Anyway, Dad now seems to be suggesting the motion that this is all, of course, My Fault. "You've gotta laugh" he says merrily, drink in hand, as I feel rather instead like crying. *

I'll soon be putting all this DIY bollocks behind me anyway, as I appear to be starting back at work on Monday. Never did I think I would actually be looking forward to such an occasion. I'll be opening envelopes, spreadsheeting my days away and shocking the IT department with the length of my skirts in no
time. Anyway, who couldn't have predicted that the woman who has chosen to deal with me at the agency tomorrow is busy all day and thus I have to be at the office by 9:15am? Cursed, cursed I tell you.


*please note: on recital of this livejournal entry to afore-mentioned Father, he'd like it to be known that this is the first time he has cried with laughter in approximately five years. I don't believe him, but there you go.

12:40pm: Shameless promotions
I knew I'd forget something! Ahem..

Hallo everybody,

I'm sure none of you realise because of dreadful, non-existant promotion and because I haven't been rambling on much about music of late that THE CRIMEA'S NEW SINGLE, WHITE RUSSIAN GALAXY IS OUT TODAY ON 2XCD AND 7" with a hoarde of spiffing b-sides - including everyone's favourite cover of I Think We're Alone Now, a pant-wettingly hilarious video and some lovely illustration work.

I know the number of people who have actually listened to my recommendations is probably, well, none, but trust me, IT'S REALLY FUCKING GOOD - GO OUT AND BUY IT!!

From Alex. Bit of a fan, aged 19 3/4.

(Davey was going to send a mass death-threat on Myspace forcing people to buy the single. I think you'll agree I am much politer.)


Go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on!

Edit: News just in from a slightly distressed sister!
"dad is screaming along to white russian galaxy wearing headphones, i fear he doesn't know i can hear him. it's painful! xxx"

Now that image HAS to sell it to you!

10:39am: Born-day wishes!
How does my alarm clock successfully LOSE TIME every morning!! I got up twenty minutes later than I thought I did and now I'm really late. As usual. Bah. Lauren should always arrange to meet me an hour later than planned. Yes yes. I am off to Camberwell/Lewisham and whatnot for Primark adventures I think. Hurrah and indeed huzzah for that is all my mangey student bank account will allow. I haven't been out in ages. Argh. I shall have a spectacular night out this week though. Any ideas yet or do you all have no imaginations too? Think of exciting places!

But anyway, that's all secondary to one Mr Dan-P-Tic's birthday! Hurrah! Have a good one dear :)

Shall hopefully see some of you soon; I hope you'll agree it's been far, far, far, FAR too long. Sorry about the social-hermitness of late!

xxxxx

10:47pm: Alex's vegetarian masterpieces, recipe 1:

Equipment needed:
A spoon
A bowl
A saucepan
A tin opener
A glass

Ingredients:
A tin of Sainsburys economy marrowfat peas
Bisto (vegetarian)

You've guessed the rest.

Cor, it's like a taste explosion in my mouth.

I'm such a bloody student

4:16pm: I'm free!!!!!

12:40pm: I am 75% of the way there. I have three hours to concoct half an essay on the preminance of cross-cultural pragmatics and am running low on supplies of cake, support and printer ink. Lots of people have gone home, everything is going wrong and I want to have a big cry. And a shower. But I don't have time for either. I hope I make it out tonight, my brain is torn between 'get battered' and 'die'. I want this to be over!!

7:16pm: 500 words and 200g of chocolate down, 200g of chocolate almost back up again, 3000 words to go. Ho hum.
Thank you for actual real-life help re: university shenanigans yesterday, I am now attempting to pass my Sociolinguistics course then I can get down to a month and a half of revising for the two courses I like but have big exams for. Hurrah.
I have bought a jar of tasty coffee as big as my head and a fewl tried to half-heartedly ID me buying tobacco. Only he'd already scanned it in. I think he just wanted to know if I was old enough to marry him.
I want to go home, roll on, I don't know, the weekend or next week or something. I miss my Dad!
Hurry up essays!!

Mmmm. Coffee.

6:21pm: Oh no! I've got brain freeze and a nasty headache!
I'm going to take a nap and hope it goes away, can someone wake me up if I'm still unconscious in an hour? x

Edit: The headache is disapating. This seemed to occur after the banging upstairs and some yelling at the ceiling. This is stress. I shall yell at the ceiling once an hour and see how calm I feel. Yes.

Oh and in case anyone actually feels like answering an important question for me:

What does your first year at university actually count for?

I don't know why I rely so much on pouring my thoughts into this thing. It's just a big depressing hole. Livejournal can fuck off already.

10:55pm: Budgens may be money-grabbing bastards but I have just bought four not-too-stale looking croissants for the delightful price of thirty English pennies.
This may not make up for the fact I have three essays to write and the only three helpful books in the library are, obviously, all on loan. One is on hold awaiting collection, if it still says that tomorrow I shall be made of angry. Sociolinguistics was such a pile of crap, it's rubbish having no choices in the first year. And I don't finish on Thursday after all, I have a surprise compulsory seminar to attend on Friday afternoon of all times which had been postponed from.. a term ago. Right..
And I have my stupid Latin test tomorrow and I'm entirely rubbish at Latin.
And I'm waiting for a text message or a phonecall or something which doesn't appear to be, well, appearing.
This is my grumpy face then.

2:09pm: Oh, I just fell asleep for two hours amongst my revision cards and had very, very strange dreams.
My brain hurts. And now the fire alarm is going off. Oww.
Stupid university.

1:44pm: urrrrrrrrrgh.

that is all.