'Opening Skinner's Box'

So far my bid to avoid the internet more frequently than not is proving a success. I now tend to write small passages into my planner as opposed to logging on here to allow it to descend into a full blown rant about someone on the motor-way or an incident that happened at work. I've found myself immersed in literature recently that provides life with a point that goes beyond me trying to find acceptance amongst my lines of erratic prose. I got to this crossroads theoretically where I couldn't find a reason for what I was doing. This developed into me feeling like I had to find this point to life. Lauren Slater writes 'Opening Skinner's Box' with an evaluation of what we do and don't know about the human mind. She comments cleverly on Sartre's view that human beings throughout life are essentially lost, and I suppose if I'm always looking for life to have some point to it, essentially I'm lost too.

I will instead adopt Skinner's belief that anyone can be trained to do anything: I've trained myself to just not give a shit.

Monotony and How it Gets That Way.

Ok, this predicament I've appeared to have got myself in was initiated with my tattooing of a sugar cube on my left inner ankle. I don't currently have a picture but its physical existence is irrelevant. My mum seems to think I have ruined my life because I've got something the size of a 20p piece permenantly emblazoned on my left lower limb. But it is in the debate that ensued between us over said tattoo that I realised my ridiculous tendancy to pull such ridiculous acts to purely break the chain. As a student holding down two part time jobs my life has this mind-numbing ability to full on repeat itself. Monotony is my worst enemy; coupled with my sporadic impulsiveness it makes for me doing really REALLY stupid things. (some of which I would never verbalize but instead bury them mentally).

I just resent the fact that my life has this boring consistency, perhaps its surrounding myself with people who do different things or the fact that I've always just put myself out there a little bit more than everyone else. I just can't handle living life like a normal person, and having routine that extends beyond my insistence on going for a run 4 times a week. So this is a declaration: I am justifying anything ridiculous I do from now on as I do it purely to remain sane. I never regret anything particularly so I don't see what the problem is. I'm also going to apologise for the amount of drama I manage to cause in my postings on the interweb; me and my intellect have this problem called 'losing control' and 'not knowing our limits'. Normally results in some furious keyboard bashing and people wanting to kill me from all areas of the globe.

I LOVE my life.

The Pro's and Con's of Academics

So it's only taken me 5 weeks of being here for me to formulate my analysis of university into World Wide Web (and probably rarely read) words. A few things: sitting in any public place here at UEA (which accounts for about 88% of it) you realise that university students do not wash. This is evident by not only their attire and general disheveled appearance but more noteably by the way they smell. Another thing is that their inability to wash also seems to create an inexplainable heat - in the computer suites in particular I have to get in a state of undress just so I can work without getting heat stroke. Not that work is easy to complete because upon exploration of the library THERE ARE NEVER ANY BOOKS. Well not the ones I want to read anyway. I end up personally tracking them down and bartering with people to do trades. Dire.

On a more positive note, I have so far discovered 4 different places to get hot chocolate, that the hive does amazing Chocolate Cake and I can get away with parking for free very close to campus for the majority of the time. The work load for the next month or so is ridiculous, but in text book fashion this doesn't stop me doing anything everyone else would consider pointless, such as writing this blog...

Incident to take specified note of today is the verbal destruction suffered of one of the students in my seminar group about an hour ago. Poor bastard chose the wrong seminar leader to do wrong by. Vic Morgan is an academic demon - I fear not only my hour with him every Thursday but just what is going to happen to me when I hand in my essay to him in 2 weeks time.
I am in educational seclusion as of... NOW.

Lost in Translation.

Life appears to be fleeting and flitting between consistency and complete chaos. Suprisingly this isn't my usual announcement of woe; my current life's inability to form some sort of valid structure is somewhat edifying and is not only encouraging me to live life to the fullest but to forget all that looks to subvert my almost apocryphal path to self-righteousness. (This in itself isn't particularly necessary, I'm already particularly pretentious).

Asides being busy one day and habitually absent the next I am consistently discovering that I'm not actually right about everything, I did at first repudiate the fact that Zombieland would be any good, and it was awesome, amongst various other things. My summer hiatus of diminished intellect appears to be short lived by the academics of the Autumn. In being required to delve into books other than that of Palahniuk or Bukowski I am infact re-establishing my ability to articulate and appreciate knowledge. Turning 19 on Saturday has only reaffirmed my personal life philosophy of 'c'est tout ou rien' and I am very determined to continue living life to this 'cup completely full' effect.

I bought a new car on Monday, am pulling a band together, have booked added work to my rib tattoo and am in the process of organizing all I regard as 'university life'. Now we just need to actually win our football match this Sunday....

I am an Enigma.

But I am still consciously trying to be a better person. I've had a milkshake a day since the beginning of the week, made my mum cry on Monday and spent £10 on comic and film posters for my room. Urrr.......

An End To Summer

In seasonal fashion I've been rather slack with posting once more. I read this interesting quote by Kid Rock (temporarily 'Kid Rock' and 'interesting' can go in the same sentence) about Twitter where he said 'It's gay, I don't have anything to say, and what I have to say is not that relevant'. My stance regarding Twitter here is irrelevant in itself, but regardless it got me on another self-criticising mental vex where I question my purpose of still having a blog. I'm definitely not as funny as I was, and my bitterness is channeled in a more self-depressive sense. It was in this digression of thought that I'd realised to what extent I had been beating myself up over summer over boys and being ill and generally just being a doormat to anyone who'd take the opportunity to tread all over me.

Now fall is here I want to sink back into self sufficiency. Songs will warm me to bed and reading and not pensive fury. I yearn for company, but i'm pledging to cherish my own. With this new job and new semester my leaf is officially turned and fully willing to fall away with the rest this Autumn.

Norwich officially has a fully functioning comic book store too.... I'm spent.

Mentally Vexed

I got my car fixed yesterday, today it is cutting out again and really doesn't run properly. I really do love this predicament I'm constantly in where everything is just a massive pile of shit. Existence and I appear to have conflicting interests....

If looking at positives; my right indicator works now and I had cheesecake at work this evening. Why is this all I have?

Shine a Light

City & Colour and a late night are the worst concoction for contemplation. It's almost impossible to verbalize how I feel or what I'm thinking. Instead all the saddest songs are the easiest to relate to, and trying to forget is like trying to turn back time. I ate Nutella on toast for dinner and got my ass kicked at football. I ache so badly and my knees are scraped, a summer of bruise-less legs is a thing of the past and I'm waiting to be thrown face-first into fall. I want school to start so I'm mentally pre-occupied. Being sans educational-stimulation makes me over-pensive and generally irate. Instead of working out answers for myself I spend mind-torturing hours looking for them in the worst places.

I've picked up new tastes for copious amounts of ice tea and not wearing a bra.
I wish home had something to offer me other than feeling alone.
'Bring me your love tonight, no I am not where I belong.'

On the Coast with the Most.

In my analysis of life just of late I have come to realise that I am a very terrible person. And have very poor judgement. Life's ill.
But who has to know?

Shingles' n' Shakes

You know your world is a fucked up place when you go to Mcdonald's and they've run out of ketchup. When would that ever be ok at a burger place? I generally couldn't believe it. In consolation however I had an awesome pb&j Shake from Cooler Milkshakes today and bought a new Snoopy purse. It only cost £20. I went to the Doctors again this morning because last night I got diagnosed with Shingles. Now I'm going to give an explanation about shingles, because originally, I thought it was something quite gross. Actually it's almost the adult form of chickenpox. I contracted it because I've neglected to take my meds sufficiently. As per usual I like to believe I'm superhuman as opposed to just pretentious, and I basically gave the virus lurking in my lower spinal chord (because chicken pox never disappears from your system) leeway to reap havoc in my nervous system and now I have shingles up my forearm and it feels like I'm leaning in the oven constantly. No it's not contagious so don't think of me as some skanky avoidance. Thanks.

Going on a tangent: reason no.183273 as to why I hate the Doctors is because it's full of miserable old people. I had an emergency appointment incase I keeled over and died or managed to contract swine flu over night or whatever and this disgusted anybody in said medical establishment over the age of 75 or pre 75 and incontinent. Do they not realise that the fact they're old has no weight in the majority of places and their bunions or infected toe nail is just going to have to wait an extra 20 minutes? Either way I'm going to have to compile a separate blog detailing all the reasons why the elderly suck for the most part- purely because my list is getting a little out of control.
Surprisingly though, I've actually had a really good day.

Same Shit, Different Day

You know life has become desperately mundane when you have to wait for something of at least slight abstract occurance to well, occur just so you feel like you have the right to blog about it, like you finally have the ability to document any thoughts/feelings/happenings of that day that extend far beyond the self-consumption of your new found love for museli or that you really hate queuing at the super market.

My extraordinary incident was in entering the Doctor's surgery for my prescription. Waiting was a woman and her child (the child being the obvious patient due to the self-sympathetic look of woe on their face), an old man quite bizarrely looking at the contraception section and an old woman sat on a chair in the center of the room with the face of a slapped ass if I ever saw one. Anyway, anecdote continuing, I walked up to the counter and waited for the desk clerk to come from the back of the shop, she approached me first to ask for my name, upon which the old woman rose and immediately blew her load over the fact that she was first. I turned around and said I didn't realise she hadn't already been seen to. She replied with some holier than thou bullshit about it being 'obvious she was waiting', and that it was right for her to be seen to first. The woman behind the counter was just as suprised at I was, and was probably thinking that had she not been sat on her decrepit derriere about 7 feet from the desk I probably would have known she was waiting. What pissed me off was her self-righteous look of victory upon putting a deliquent minor in their place. I'm pretty sure that even old people hate old people nowadays, they're that pent on getting one up on the World and everyone in it.

My 'suicide before sixty' pledge has never looked so promising. Rant over: I really do have a new found love for museli.

World at War

Another Light Dragoon died in Afghanistan today fighting a pointless war. We're trying to keep something under control that has no expiration date or limit. I'm tired of hearing bullshit stories of making bullets out of pig fat to make being a martyr pointless or that this whole war is over oil. I guess I'm just tired of living in a World and contributing to a World I have no control over. If i analyse myself in 15 years and find I'm a house wife with about as much opinion on World matters as a slice of bread then I'm going to blow myself up.

Stand back whilst my fucking head detonates. I want and I need and I feel but it all amounts to nothing. I'm lost in what I want to be doing and what I should be doing and what I wish would happen. All I can do is talk to myself and listen to the saddest songs. I'm letting temporary dementia cloud my reasoning. I wish I could call it summer euphoria but all it does is rain.

Correlation Cause Confusion

It's disconcerting when you aren't sure how to feel about something or someone, or when you wish you knew why you feel the way you do about the same two things. What's more disconcerting as of recent is that I feel omniscient, but in an out-of-body sense where I am in recognition of every single thing I do, but have no understanding of why I am doing it or how I feel about it. Desire and wanting to be desired are comic concepts: never reciprocated and never the same. Never easy either. Sometimes I wish I was just watching my life like it was some ill-aired sitcom, I wouldn't worry half as much, if at all, about how often I seem to make wrong decisions. It'd be awful nice to sigh, or laugh and shout from the other side of a television screen. Regardless I need to stop likening my life and the people in it to scenes and characters from books and live in the real World.

I've decided the tugging in acceleration on my car last week that no longer seems to be an issue was water damage from the flash floods. I often misplace the notion that my car is not only 10 years old but ragged to death and so can't handle my some what ruthless road intervention. It's quite pathetic that I generally get annoyed when I see old people driving a nice car at a snail's pace and believe that they shouldn't deserve the priviledge when I drive a heap of shit and ductape, normally at least on par with the national speed limit. Unless your name's Harriet Lucas I'm almost definitely a very agitated person to look at right now. Like a crack fiend in rehab but not as jittery yet just as full of angst. I'll probably start asking into thin air to 'saved' and 'let go' similarily however. I need to be one of those people that is pretty to look at and a mystery to understand.

I'm getting increasingly illiterate and it's heart breaking.

Da(w)g Nasty

I never realised looking after a puppy would be such a complete consumption of my physical and mental morale. This dog I'm sitting isn't just any regular West Highland terrier with adorable ears and big eyes, it is Satan's hound out to literally ruin any ability I possess to remain sane. Following is a shortened list I have comprised of the havoc she has caused in 10 days:

Pissing on the carpet,
pissing on the kitchen floor,
pissing on the laundry,
walking shit through the house,
puking in the front room after eating what appears to be a yard's worth of grass,
jumping up me so many times it looks like Edward Scissor hands has been fondling my legs,
chewing my blackberry case to obliteration,
refusing to walk any longer half way around the block....

additional, less prominent things come to mind but just relating what I have previously typed makes me sigh in exasperation. Thank God I've never been dumb enough to get pregnant, I can't even handle a fucking dog.

The World is Like a Weight That's Dragging Me Down.

I'm so raging that I can't even write my anger into this blog sufficiently. Words don't even suffice. All my possessions keep breaking and I just cleaned up green puppy puke. I managed to walk into a hot frying pan and now I look like I self harm, I don't but am in severe contemplation just to let off some steam. I got wet driving home because my sunroof is broken, my sunroof will not close properly and I live in England.

I'm watching Wogan's Total Recall and eating peanut butter out of the jar and I'm fucking angry!

Time Turned Fragile

I can't really say luck has ever been a friend of mine, but as of recent it seems to be even less than an aquaintence, I can honestly say I've had the worst week of my life. I seem to excel in doing things or failing to do things that result in people getting fucked off , I've been as sick as half of Mexico and I've managed to ruin everything I've put my hands on. I'm typing this from the family desktop after spilling water on my Mac which FYI isn't covered by my warranty (only reiterates the fact that Apple are money-grabbing fat cat bastards) I think I'd find more fortune in the public funding expenses than in my life right now.

Being drugged to the max means I am having difficulty being articulate. I keep slurring my words and making little sense so socialising is about as appealing as a stroll through Kuwait right now. I've lost all the work I'd started for my novel on my Macbook so I generally feel like any molecule of intellect I have left has vanished in a haze of water damage.

Although I'm failing to formulate any notion of sense or interest right now I'm really glad Misha won BNTM, that is all.

'Just Stop Coz I've Had Enough'

I'm running out of things to say, and ways to feel and I'm nervous. I feel as though life is 24/7 treading on egg shells and as though time is running out. July is less than a week away and I'm not over June. I'm getting tattooed today and then have to go to work, regardless of the fact that I'd booked it off. It appears my boss not only has the inability to answer a telephone or arrange flowers but also has forgotten how to read a date book. I need another job. Preferably one where my job title isn't 'doormat'.


I went running this morning and two women were talking about the death of Michael Jackson so loud that I could hear them over Jawbreaker. I wanted to backtrack and slap them around the face.

Provocation and Pick'n'Mix

On evaluation of just exactly what citation I know for my Law exams this week it's official that I'm going to sit down at the desk, open the paper and know absolutely nothing. Forget the fact that on and off I've been revising the reams of bullshit since late March, it's come to a head at this point and it turns out that my head is empty. I have absolutely nothing to offer the examiner tomorrow except the names of the legal clauses. I am literally having a subconscious panic attack. I genuinely believe that in a bid to not break down entirely this past month my brain has thrown everything I need to know out of my ears and replaced it with the strength to make it through the day without wanting to top myself.

Honestly, it's a relief mum is bringing me back some sweets any minute now because I'm a fizzy cola-bottle away from spontaneous combustion. If it were to happen she could probably look to receive compensation against the exam bored for psychiatric injury as a secondary victim. Although she would need to qualify the control mechanisms so she had best make sure she's here to see me go up in smoke.

'I'm just a clown, but you can sit beside me when the world comes down'.

Being Fund-less is Fun-less

I wish I didn't owe so much money. I'm making plans to travel this summer only to be informed that 'You aren't galavanting anywhere until you pay the money you owe me off'. Nothing hits below my metaphorical belt harder than an assertion of the fact that I might be saddled to here all summer and then the next three years (pending exam success) without partially fledged freedom. So my pledge is to do everything and anything to make some serious dollar. ANYTHING.

It doesn't help that I just keep planning to spend money I don't have on other things. I saw my tortoise hatchlings the other day: I'm calling them Herman and Hermione regardless of gender, I need to buy more comics and literature before I become a complete illiterate babbling mess and lose my capacity to formulate extended writing and I've accepted the fact that Harriet's gift I ordered online just isn't coming so I'll purchase another. The irony of the word 'purchase' is I'm the only one 'chasing' my pennies. One week of exams down and one more to go, my medication doesn't seem to be working as I'm back to sleeping most the day and it seems I find more motivation in staring at the wall than I do actually studying. Oh the trials and tribulations of being eighteen and so close to Summer break that I can touch it.

I desperately need a hair cut, might just attempt it myself.

Frailty, Thy Name is Woman

It appears I am only able to sleep life away when I want to cherish it the most. I can only remember vividly what I want to forget. I'm sick and tired of waking up everyday and not knowing what to do or say. I'm heart sick and I'm lost and increasingly everything surrounding me is turning into all that I hate. I'm drowning in mind-maps and flash cards and the whole prospect of the 2 hour and 15 minute literature exam today makes me feel physically sick. It's mind-bending how the next three years of my life depend on my ability to assess why the audience of Hamlet has sympathy for the protagonist. I couldn't give a third fuck quite frankly.

I get this feeling that I'm making wrong decisions all the time, I'm desperate and I'm being a whiney little bitch, it's an annual thing when exams come around but it all seems to be heightened and up in my grill this time. I wouldn't want to be around me right now, and I don't want anyone to be. Except maybe Harriet, she makes me laugh so much my sides hurt and come close to spraying the contents of a Mcflurry all over the dashboard of my car. I yearn for someone to give me the answers before I become bitter and twisted and alone. Oh wait.

Life is one daunting prospect when I find salvation in my own isolation.

This Is My War

I started off on a good road revising this week but it fell behind by Wednesday and now I am back to procrastination in its prime. I went to a summary class for Literature today and spent the hour on my Blackberry. I'm desperately looking for the metaphorical switch in my head to turn my whole 'drive in life' process back on but there is more chance of me finding a tumor or maybe the full lyrics for the Spice Girls album or NSYNC. In evaluation of taking A-level exams the fuckbrains paid to conjure up said bullshit clearly have no respect for short-lived youth or the fact that fucking no one would ever want to sit 4 essay questions in three hours. When did they ever think that would be a good idea? I fucking hate how irrational life is.

My current fucked up outlook on existence means I find everything annoying. I don't understand how just deciding not to talk to someone achieves anything, I also believe age is a completely disregardful factor in someone's maturity because the majority of people of age I know who could do with growing up don't even know they're born. I know the Conservative party are going to win the election campaign too, anybody who doesn't see this is seriously misconceived, either way I used to love how election brings misguided political bullshit out of people's mouths but this year I can't handle it, I've heard enough theorists to embark on a political Illuminati and they all spout complete and utter dish water. I'd hear more sense out of a used condom.

If I read or hear or see one more thing on Britain's Got Talent I'm going to personally go out of my way to hurt someone. It's fucking over, why the nation wasted their time watching that bullshit on TV when the taxpayers' money will probably be spent putting on the Royal Variety show for Britain's washed up Monarchy and it's vegetated Queen is beyond me. I wish everybody would get a fucking grip.

I'm 24/7 raging, booked a new tattoo though.

Cheap Flings in Blue Springs

So I choked on whatever I was eating at work the other day (it was something with rice and chicken, not entirely sure) but either way for however long it was stuck in my throat I genuinely felt like I was going to die. This was Wednesday night, and my throat is still on fire, I can't really eat anything too solid in structure (make jokes if you will) and I am pretty sure it's put me off that type of meal in some time.

I drove out to Peterborough today to pick up my fucking SatNav, the A47 in that direction is the most monotonous and soul-destroying car journey ever, most notably the fact that when the sun comes out, the direction back towards Norwich comes to a standstill as people flock to Cromer or any other rot-smelling coastal town with a murky patch of sand and some sea to soak up the rays that England only sees once in a blue moon.

I really should be studying but along with my missing handbag I am pretty sure I lost my motivation forever. Work is going to SUCK later.

Think Pink

I went to prom yesterday and whilst for the most part it sucked, certain people made it so bareable. I wore THESE shoes:

Fuck knows how. Whatever, I won 'most likely to become Prime Minister.... yeah.

I also made a pink cake.


After party fucking ruled though, I love Harriet Lucas to death, if it wasn't for her I think I'd contemplate it right now. Here's to stairlift riding, forcing drunks to do dumb shit and flicking the middle finger at anyone who opposes.
The Decendents own me right now.

I Am.

The other day at work someone asked if we had any English potatoes, I replied with: 'They're right in front of you, Cornish potatoes..' to be responded to with: 'No, English potatoes', me: 'Cornwall is in England.' her: 'well not really...' me: 'well where do you propose it is then?'.

I hate people.


I wish I could stop listening to Beyonce. I think I love her/everything about her. She is the epitome of what a woman should be and potentially what I'm not.
Status: currently self-consumed and very anti-existence. I'll BRB.

Once You Go Black You Never Go Back.

Yesterday I got my first ever Blackberry and it's one of the best things I've ever had. For someone so technologically retarded keeping everything under one shiny black little roof is probably the best thing to happen for me since sliced bread or the larger packets of raisins. I am still learning how to use it, and have googled various dumb-ass questions such as 'changing my ring tone on my Blackberry curve?' and 'what is my BB pin?'. I'm elated like it's Christmas.

I wanted to see Coraline last night so me and a friend drove into the city to go to Odeon only to find there was a 'technical fault'. What sort of 'technical fault' could there be on the first week of viewing? Did someone eat the film reel or drop it in the Nacho-dip vat? I was p-o'ed to say the least. But we watched Angels&Demons and it was actually awesome. I don't get why the reviews said it was terrible, a bit far-fetched yes... but isn't the whole concept of the Vatican church pretty far fetched anyway? (Sorry Alice, but be happy in the notion that when ever I do badmouth religion I think of you and pinch myself a little bit).

I had my first exam today of 10, and it wasn't too bad. It was a retake as last time I took the paper I spent one hour and fifteen minutes taking the piss out of the first task (I could write an article about any hotel destination in the World and I chose Great Yarmouth because I think I'm funny) so I figured I'd retake the paper with a bit more respect, and hopefully I will do better than a C this time.
I hate this time of year.

Sore on War

I really wish my parents wouldn't buy Tabloid news papers, i can honestly say they make me feel sick and so pent up with fury that I manage to pull even more cynaism and hate out of everyday existence. I don't see how anybody (even the shameful majority of the Bonehead Britain who read Tabloids) can honestly take what they print seriously when you open to the next page and see a pair of tits or a story about a waste-of-a-woman who feeds her babies Big Macs. It would be like Paris Hilton teaching degree-level astro-physics with sincerity. Either way I am pretty bored of all this bullshit about swine flu, the Iraq settlement, Madeline McCann and economic hardship. No body has grown trotters and a snout, troops are still killing and being killed in someother Middle-Eastern wasteland, kidnappers aren't going to be dumb enough to parade Maddy on the streets like some cheap prostitute and no one is spending any less money now than they were 18 months ago.

I guess life is leaving a sour taste in my mouth as of lately, it all seems such a waste of time. Here's a joke to lighten the mood in my current miserable fuck angst.

'A man was arrested after running outside 10 Downing Street shouting at the top of his voice 'Gordon Brown is a fucking idiot'. He was tried and sentenced to 6 months imprisonment for public slander... and 19 and a half years for revealing secrets of the state.'

be-dum-bum.

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18 year old studious female,
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Enjoys sleeping in, reading comics and work completing itself,
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Irony is if I actually studied instead of posting shit like this my work would probably get done. My current student status carries the same worth as the British £ against the Euro.

'He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My week of work and my sunday rest.'

Down 'Til I'm Underground

It's been a crazy week. I am pretty sure a speed camera flashed me in London last night and we got lost, I paid for a Big Issue the seller then wouldn't give to me, I had the worst slice of pizza I've ever tasted, I've been told to my face that someone doesn't like me, I had Bean's older brother from Even Steven's eyeball me to the extent that I've had to pretend other people were my boyfriend, I forgot to get off my stop on the tube, had a drug pusher oogle my boobs, suffered food poisoning from a £1 Tesco pasta salad, laughed so hard I couldn't breath, wanted things so badly it was unreal, had a million memories I wouldn't want to change for the world and met someone I don't ever want to forget, my first hang outs with Rosa ruled and I'd marry her if it wasn't weird or monogamous.

Post euphoria I'm hating life and need to study hard for exams that I'm so scared of failing. My brother has some crazy cold and I'm sure he has swine flu because not only does he eat like a pig but he's been acting like one. He also did the robot holding an electric razor my sister uses on her bikini line, nice. Hypothesis: Reality blows.

Flushed Away

I'm currently attempting to drink 1 1/2 litres of water a day. I haven't been drinking anything else other than one glass of cranberry juice and it's proving a lot more difficult than first percieved. Not only does the taste of water make me feel more thirsty somehow(seriously?) but I visit the toilet on the hour every hour like some incontience-ridden geriatric. Apparently the '8 glasses of water a day' recommendation is a myth. Unless you're a fish or something. I don't feel any better for it so far, more like I'm carrying a water baby.

In other news I have both tonight and tomorrow night off work. This is both bad and good. It's bad because I need the money to fix my repetedly broken car but it's good because with a broken car I wouldn't be able to drive there anyway and I'd like to go to Outbreak in Bury St Edmunds this Saturday night. I, with some error, named my car Betty, aptly i know wish I had named her Shitty. She currently has a loose connection in the front right indicator and chugs like a tug boat when I start the engine. I think I should loosen her connections with a baseball bat personally. But the liklihood of me getting a new car can be compared with the liklihood of the Pope ever accepting homosexuals, or condoning the use of condoms.
Either way I'm just stoked that I can spend another week away from a resturant full of diners that I want to punch. Especially the people who tip me 50p like it makes the slightest fucking difference.

I've had a shit week, I want the 25th of May to come around more than ever.

101 Facts

In complete mimicry of Rosa I am going to do a number-associated about me list. I a) have nothing better to do, b) want her to be able to read mine like I read all 101 facts about her and c)have never done one before and will be interested to see what I have the balls to write. I know plenty of things about me that I'd never admit such as:

1)I compare inserting a tampon to something as difficult as performing key hole surgery
2)Sometimes when I walk anywhere I count my steps, or if I am eating I will subconsciously count the number of times I chew
3)I have a phobia of chapped lips and becoming over weight
4)If I could be anyone for a day I'd be one of the Queen's corgis so I would know whether she does normal things like pick her nose
5)I definitely think I'd be a lot better at life if i was born male
6)I calorie count not solely for my fear of obesity but because i like mental arithmetics, I also work out the total when I am shopping and when I'm in a restaurant
7)I have an unhealthy obsession with breasts and how big other people's are compared to mine, I genuinely believe this stems from my mum and her friends getting overly excited when my sister, their daughter's and I all started developing a pair
8)I pick apart my appearance upon a daily basis but always conclude that my eyes are my only redeeming feature
9)I like the noise of gum when it pops even though the majority of other people find it severely annoying
10)I'd wear black every single day if people didn't comment on it so often
11)If it wasn't for my sister being a complete anti-thesis to me I would probably have been just like her
12)I do however wish I had her legs so skinny jeans looked better on me but I wouldn't sacrifice my derriere for the World
13)I'm not gullible because i believe every word someone is saying but because I've learnt from telling someone that something is complete bullshit, it makes me sound like an asshole
14)I really wish the spell-check on my Mac wasn't set on American settings because it potentially makes me illiterate
15)Likewise I wish i knew how to really use a Mac so I can change this setting, I'm too pompous to ask anyone for help and too lazy to look it up on google
16)I have a tendency to choose a favourite word for the week and try to use it as many times as possible, my favourite word for this week is 'chevron'
17)I wish I could accessorize, but I have the fashion prowess of a little boy
18)If i had all the money in the World I'd honestly give most of it away, i really don't know what I'd do with it otherwise
19)I do like Zebrahead and no I am not ashamed!
20)I take a chronic-fatigue drug that abolishes my short-term memory abilities- with disastrous consequences, I'm worried it's going to make me fail this year but so far I haven't done anything about it
21)I like having my hair stroked, not in a sexual way or because I think I'm a domesticated animal but because it feels nice
22)The majority of nights I sleep alone I manage to work myself into an anxiety-fueled stupor where I genuinely believe what ever I worry about is actually going to happen
23)The majority of girls I come into contact with make me feel like I should make more effort with my appearance/get a better hair cut
24)If I could bake all day and neglect all my academic and economic responsibilities then I would
25)Kinder chocolate really is the best chocolate on the planet
26)I have been and always will be completely smitten over Blink 182
27)When they broke up I cried
28)I feel the biggest problem I have with myself is I can't be completely honest about what I want or how I feel
29)The only person I am afraid of is my Mum
30)I completely doubt myself/my ability to do anything on a daily basis, it's like a small, repetitive breakdown
31)I generally couldn't care when other people break edge, I always thought it was something you did for yourself
32)The prospect of high heels and walking in them makes me feel ill
33)I think instant messenger and Msn was always one of the reasons behind a lot of my problems
34)Before I reach 20 i want to run in the Race for Life. I always forget to apply though
35)One day I will go on a reality-tv singing contest like X-Factor
36)I used to be vegetarian until i got diagnosed with a severe iron deficiency, I still can't eat a lot of meat without wanting to hurl
37)I'm writing a book but I am too self-critical for it to ever be finished probably
38)I'm a timid feminist and have an issue with girls who don't support one another
39)I think not voting in general elections makes you ignorant
40)I have a mental list that's forever growing of people who make me puke in my mouth a little bit
41)When someone is described as 'fit' I think it's not because they're handsome or beautiful but because somehow they're sex-worthy
42)I have another mental list of words that I don't like including 'snog', 'knackered' and 'cemetery'
43)I have a lot of extensive but irrelevant mental lists
44)I am pretty sure I have an OCD complex about bathrooms and their general nature of hygiene to the extent that my parents provided me with my own so I wouldn't freak out on a daily basis
45)I know so much about the Holocaust and Germany's history between 1915-1945 that the majority of people assume me to be a neo-nazi or unhealthily interested in genocide and social oppression
46)Bizarrely connected to this if I wasn't atheist or for some bizarre reason had to belong to a religion I'd most probably be Jewish
47)I really really hate those glasses with the big frames, it's a trend that has got out of control
48)I wish I had been around when it was socially ok to be racially discriminate if you weren't white just so see how utterly ridiculous and warped society was
49)I'm afraid of anything that's smaller than my fist and moves
50)My upper arms are so muscular that I look like I pump iron, I don't and I'd rather you didn't make comment on my guns
51)I don't find any of the girls off 'The Hills' pretty, and no it isn't because I'm jealous
52)Even I'd make out with Megan Fox, she's that hot
53)I can't stand romantic comedies but somehow always end up watching them
54)The only horror movie I can say that generally scared me was The Ring
55)When I try to think about the best day of my life I always think about the day Daniel and I went to Disney World together for the first time
56)Whilst being the curator of the NYC history museum would be my dream job, I'd do anything to be one of the Disney princesses at the Disney World in California or Florida
57)I always contemplate what would happen to the rest of the World if I died, not because I think I'm important but I think that's only when people realise exactly what someone meant to them
58) I've always seriously favoured suicide after middle-age so I don't end up old and completely decrepit
59)Losing things is probably the only thing to make me really really angry
60)I'm always right even when I know I'm wrong
61)I have always wanted a cat but am terrified of being scratched by one
62)I really hate when guys shave everything but a little patch of hair under their chin, it irritates me and I can't help but talk to it if I ever have to speak to anyone like that
63)I never know whether to look a person in the eye when I am having a conversation with them, I can't decide if it's rude not to or uncomfortably weird if I do
64)I would of dropped out of sixth form 6 months ago if I didn't whole-heartedly believe it's essential in me continuing the rest of my life, I hate it that much
65)I would create a fictitious situation in my life just to get on the Jeremy Kyle show
66)Passing my driving test was one of the best things to ever happen to me
67)So was getting into hardcore.
68)I've tried giving up chocolate on a monthly basis since I was 15, it has never worked
69)If I ever met the first person to consider oral sex I'd give them a pat on the back
70)I didn't really need to wear a bra until I was about 14/15, I actually got teased about this
71)I have never broken a single bone in my body or had a filling, by typing this I am worried that I now will
72)I guess you could therefore say I believe in Karma or superstition and will probably touch some wood in the next two minutes
73)I love the variety of slang-terms and nicknames there are for the male and female anatomy, a friend made a list of all the different words for 'penis' once and it made me laugh my whole way through the last two years of high school
74)I have a circle shaped scar on my left hand after I let someone drop hot plastic on it during high school, I really hate it
75)On reflection of the past 74 facts It'd be safe to say I 'really hate' a lot of things
76)I used to box twice a week until I realised boxing against the local gypsies was potentially dangerous
77)I wish I could be funny without being severely sarcastic/disgustingly exaggerative or viciously cynical
78)When I applied to Cambridge and got an interview I generally believed I had a pretty good chance of getting in, I didn't
79)I generally don't know what to do with myself when someone complains to me at work, it isn't until I get back in the kitchen that I ever think of anything good to say
80)I was in a band between the ages of 14/15 that makes me die inside of embarrassment every time I think about it, It's so cringe-worthy that I can't type the name without closing my eyes in sheer awkwardness
81)If i get buried when I die instead of cremated I will be so fucked off, well technically I'll be dead but it will still be really annoying
82)I make myself really angry thinking about public transport, it's always been that much of an inconvenience to me
83)I dressed up as an almost sexy-santa for a hardcore show at christmas once, i did it to annoy my then-boyfriend and it worked
84)My sixth form regularly holds alcohol-fueled student parties and I hate them that much that I let my sister go instead where she pretends to be me
85)I'm always tripping over absolutely nothing, I probably trip over on a daily basis and it never gets any less mortifying
86)My sister has decided that since I'm straight edge I'm not 'wild' in the slightest, I'd like to think I'm pretty wild, actually.
87)People watching is prominently one of my favourite things to do, I don't think I'd get as much enjoyment out of life if I didn't make up false personas for strangers I had witnessed during the day
88)I always laugh a little at people who try too hard to be dark and demure, I always laugh a little at people in general, it's not because I think I'm better it's because it's funny
89)I don't get people who wouldn't donate their body to science after death because they're not comfortable with it: what's there to be uncomfortable about when you're dead? You're going to be lying down
90)I have a severe issue with the concept of any female 'squatting' to pee, I won't camp because I'm not comfortable with that, I really can't handle peeing if I'm not on a toilet
91)I don't let my dog poop when I take her for walks, I'm not prepared to pick it up so she always has to wait until we get home, I honestly believe she resents me for it
92)I really hate it when anyone calls me mate, especially as usually they're not my 'mate' at all and it makes me feel like a man
93)The only fond memory I have of education pre-high school is playing Blousey Brown in the drama club's performance of Bugsy Malone
94)Who ever created the concept of pancakes also needs a good pat on the back
95)If I died right now my epitaph would probably read 'fuck my life'
96)I really don't see the point in Twitter or understand why it's the new 'in thing', surely it's just a half-assed Facebook?
97)I secretly adore any form of female ballad and sing along to them on the assurance that no one is around to hear me
98)Napoleon Dynamite really IS the most quotable film of all time
99)I wish my Dad would understand just how hilarious Will Farrell is
100)I'm actually a genuinely positive person I just really struggle to translate it verbally without sounding like a creep
101)If i could change one thing about myself it would be my insane ability to procrastinate, and I would muchly appreciate not having the build of a woman of the amazon

Vexation on a Sunday

Part of the trouble is slipshod story telling in the New Testament. The intent of the Gospels was to teach people, among other things, to be merciful, even to the lowest of the low. But the Gospels actually taught this: 'Before you kill somebody, make absolutely sure he isn't well connected'.

The flaw in the Christ Stories, is that Christ, who didn't look like much, was actually the Son of the Most Powerful Being in the Universe. So when it came to the crucifixion oh boy did they sure pick out the wrong guy to lynch this time. And this thought has a brother: 'There are right people to lynch'. Who? People not well connected.

I don't like 80% of people I come into contact with, this includes anybody in the band Dungeons. I've only actually watched your set about three times but it's enough to conclude that you could put a blossoming ecstasy-bandit to sleep. Hence the necessity in mine and my friends karaoke and partying instead of standing around pretending to find any interest or enjoyment in your set. You're not individual or artsy. Never smiling in public doesn't make you deep. It makes you pseudo- pretentious because there is actually nothing for you to be pretentious about. If you're going to say something about me at least say it to my face, that way I can remind you how compensating for being socially nugatory by making pointless public announcements doesn't make you top banana. When I think about how cool you think you are it actually makes me laugh a little bit.

I can't believe I almost forgot how consumed some people are with what other people are doing. I wish I didn't have to work this Saturday night so I could go to another show in Ipswich and fuck people off.

A Book Worm Lost in the Soil

Once again the annual exam preparation has arrived and i scorn it for it's necessant success in putting my whole life on hold whilst i try desperately for four shiny A's at the end. I've neglected my reading, my organising, my socialising and so not only am i poorly read, but i live in an accomodation-enclosed tip and i never see anyone; 'Stig of the Dump' rings to mind.

But i got my hurrrr did yesterday (got me a sweet blonde flash like Rogue but not as prominent) and good things are coming up, I have a mentally existant dates calender in my head right now but it'd be a waste of time printing it here for eyes that don't exist, or frequently couldn't care, indeed in a blind world the man with one eye is king.

Instead i shall love and leave with a list of 'to-dos'
1)clean out my closets
2)manage my shoes (i.e. throw the deceased ones away and stop hoarding)
3)wrap Dad's birthday presents
4)generally tidy
5)start 'The Slaughter House Five'
6)purchase some more profound and mentally-testing literature

completion: pending
procrastination: looming.

The Answer My Friend, Is Blowing In The Wind,

I've been negligent in my blogs because I am forgetful and because I don't want it to be some artistic rendition of how abysmal life gets, quite happily asides it's repetitive nature 45 weeks of the year I am mostly blissfully happy but this week has been a week of sorts.

First, failing exams just doesn't happen to me and it has this week, twice. Both are being remarked (without my input i might add) because of this failure of correlation with the rest of my, well life really. I know why I failed history, without 'tu quoque'ing the whole situation my teacher failed to mention to my class before the exam that for the top marks she had needed to teach us the theories of revisionism, post-revisionism and orthodox and consequently we all got shit grades. As for Law I have as many answers as a question paper. Clueless. After busting my guts studying it seems I spunked all my knowledge up the wall. I got two A's but they mean little when everyone expects four.

Gut-wrenching failure kind of aches when you're missing someone so badly that time seems to stop whilst you wait to be with them again. I've spent the past 3 days pretty miserable and know it will take him to make me feel better. I need to book a Doctor's appointment but have been procrastinating through either fear of something being wrong or her finding no reason as to why I'm exhausted all the time. We also didn't win at football again today and I'm beginning to find no logic in coming home pissed off every sunday afternoon and covered in mud. I want answers for absolutely everything, I just wish I was somewhere where British life can't get to me like it does right now.

I feel this blog is quite lengthy and so could never be the arty bullshit that offers little prose but plenty of cynical punch but I think there's been plenty to catch up on. The only difference between the sane and the psychotic is one bad day....

A Fear of Fatuity.

I know my life is so desperately ironic when in the study and research for another 3000+ word essay I feel myself losing brain cells. I feel like I'm losing the capacity to formulate not only sentences that comply with Grice's maxims of politeness but generally being about to formulate conversation. I'm tired of only being able to converse over television programs and the impending/and currently life destroying snow and my failure to produce literary-worthy synonyms is making me agitated. Yet along with this new found concern for my linguistic capabilities I still retain the intelligence to become increasingly exacerbated with the variation in numerous spellings between the USA and the UK. I am not nonchalant when it comes to the British language's inadequacy to use the letter 'z' within words; but possessing a spell check that insists on spelling everything under American diction really winds me up. Dear self, i WILL read more and worry less about being sixthform-sufficient and i WILL enquire as to where my immutable intensity for words/writing/extended vocabulary has retired to.

As previously fore-shadowed, the current snow that is consuming Britain like a blanket of frosty's fury seems to have consumed the country in some form of disease where they can't do anything but have harangues about it. Please take note, i agree Alaska and various other locations on the globe continue to subsist when the white devil (juxtaposition justified) advances and many of you are critical of how Britain seems to come to a standstill; but one miniscule detail you forgot to consider (well actually two) is that a)we're a fraction of the size of all of these places and b)snowfall doesn't and has never occurred enough for us to devise some scheme that would make us snow-superior. We don't even as a country possess the funds to make our travel services element-able.

Someone give me a lift to Heathrow Airport on Friday the 13th, yeah? ok? Wicked.

Carpe Die-m

I know life is short and we're born to die and i should seize the day, but I'm going to go with God on this one and Sunday being the day of rest. Another thing i know is that I should be at UEA library right now finding books for possibly the most secluded essay question I've ever decided upon but again the sheer thought of searching for books that aren't there makes laying in bed eating Kinder and watching Sunday films much more preferable. Again my taste for diversity has bitten me in the ass because I chose to study an argument in history and have subsequently been spunking time up the wall because the books i want to read aren't in any public libraries ANYWHERE and on going to UEA library i can't rent the books... i have to photo copy them.... each page i want to use. Just die.

Looking forward to going to the flicks later to see My Blood Valentine 3-D with Gowza, popcorn for dinner, huzzzahhh. Then going to see Valkyrie with pop tomorrow, can't beat a bit of Hitler-attempted assassination. I wish these 18days would pass fast. Faster than a dog on speed. or something. Just fast.

Mactarded.

For someone with such a rocket up my butt 88% of the time I can be easily traumatised by anything more technologically recent than the Nokia 3210. Whilst my Macbook was predominantly a blessing it is also a curse. The matter of the fact is that I just don't know how to use it. I persistently believe that talking to it/ asking it 'what! whyyyyy? how on earth?' will solve any qualms I have with it and when something doesn't work or is 'temporarily unavailable' for over an hour I acquiesce and hide behind the archaic but reliable pen and pad of paper. I'm a self-confessed know-all but can honestly say this laptop has me in a headlock 24/7.

I've got my history exam tomorrow but again I've sold myself to procrastination like some cheap slut and am looking for any excuse to do something else. Hence my insistence in taking issue with my Macbook and repainting my nails not once but twice. What hurts the most is that after my exams are over this week I have to spend two weeks writing a history investigation on the Role of the Catholic Church in the Holocaust, so far I've established (or rather decided) that they didn't do a whole lot but other than that I've got more interest in watching paint dry, or trying to further my lacking Macbook knowledge.(which is actually just giving up and watching the Itunes album-cover- art screensaver.)

I've got about 12% of my Christmas chocolate left before I on a cocoa hiatus, just another thing I am traumatised about. I'm feeling sorry for myself - Kinder donations widely appreciated, technically if the chocolate never runs out I don't have to stop. Technically..

Solitude and Junk Food Mood.

I don't know what has happened to me in the last 24 hours to make me so anti-company but I woke up with the notion today of just generally not liking other people. In fact throughout today I've found 90% of people I usually like unbearable; to the extent that I'm rude or subconsciously rude. I guess it's because sometimes I just don't 'get' people, or being around people. I will never figure out either why girls are so pent on getting at each other or catching each other out. We should be a team more than anything, men are going to spend the entire lifespan of the human race making us subordinate, I've never witnessed a species so set on kicking each other whilst they're down. I hate to break it to anyone with a vagina, even as a feminist, we will be forever underground.

I am in serious concern over my chocolate addiction. I think it's gone beyond me merely just having a taste for chocolate. I get cravings to the extent that I can't concentrate on anything else until I have had a fix. I've made a personal pact that once I've devoured all my Christmas chocolate (I predict this to occur in approximately 2 weeks) then I am ditching chocolate for good. Keep a tab on me. If Daniel reads this I know he agrees, haha *hearts for eyes*.

Currently wondering whether I should go to Internal Affairs last show... line up SUCKS.

Splitting at the Seams

My rejection from Cambridge a week ago has sunk me into a fear that i've been living in some fallacy where I can achieve what I want because I am just me. Last year the only exam i particularly revised for was law and i aced it. Now exams are back around and the whole prospect of having to study is reinvented I have this constant, mistaken niggling in the back of my head that I can do it without working for it. My rejection brought into hindsight that maybe I can't do that anymore.

It's 4.30pm and I failed to get dressed today. I am intent on studying for hours, I've studied a fair amount so far, but doubt is raging through me like hormones on the brink of puberty. Maybe I can't do it this time.

Asides annual exam-disaster I am completely consumed by love.

Revision Rut

The time of year is around again where I really have to get my act together in time for exams. Although so far I've failed to do anything exam-constructive and I am only proud of myself because I am pretending. This facade of hard-work will probably bite my in the ass but I've told myself that I've always crammed like a fat mess before so this instance shouldn't be any different.

I'm becoming increasingly love-sick. I also have little to say because I'm completely wrapped up in life without the majority of you in it.

Canis Candem Edit

I've been horrifically slack in this whole 'let the World hear my sorrows' thing, mostly because I haven't had any sorrows. I got rejected from Cambridge last week, but other than feeling that my pride has taken a slight kick to the balls I kind of expected. When someone talks to your lip-piercing instead of you during conversation you know they aren't particularly interested in what you have to say. Although the interviews were an experience, strangely vigorous and with the capability to make someone even as pompous as me feel really small.

I guess my New year's resolution will be to keep up with my blogs, although I will watch what I say as a friend was recently suspended from work for pouring her heart out online. Hilarious. I am glad I don't have particularly anything bad to say about something so particular as work, quite possibly because I am too happy to give a shit. (insert smiley)

Now watching Equilibrium (lead role; Christian Bale) and pretending to study. I just had some of the best two weeks of my life but now my heart just aches. This is one of those forever things, I can just feel it.