I was going to write about the University Funding crises that's going around, but I am in no way near informed enough as of this moment. So that's going on the back burner for a while, until I catch up on the Times, the Guardian, METRO, etc.
Instead, I'll rant about snow. It is such a menace after all. Taking all our grit. Last year, half of the news coverage around the UK was taken up by the "grit shortage of 2009/10". It was mass panic, people scared out of their minds that this brown salt would run out before THEIR driveway was cleared of all snow each and every morning. Yes, hope that doesn't happen again, no matter how hilarious it is.
Well, there's snow here in Aberdeen. Not loads, but enough to annoy me and like all wet footed idiots before me, I thought I could brave it out with just trainers. Wrong. I tried some simple boots. Wrong. I need big, industrial, Soviet boots. If I kicked someone with these boots, their ancient Viking ancestors would feel it in Valhalla. That's a topical reference for those over 1200 years old.
I actually became aware of the snow 10 hours later than anybody else. I was incredibly hungover and missed the barrage of "I LUV SNO" on Facebook. I thought Evander Sno had made a glorious comeback (obscure reference), but no, it was the white, slightly wet muck that plagues roads and that. I do not know what LUV is, except that it sells on many teddy bears. It also reveals that the only people that love snow that much have barely seen it outside of Home Alone. The powdery white form is lovely and that crunch under your feet is timeless. However, that is now always the case as there are two other forms.
First, is the grey sludge that eventually starts next to roads but expands its horizons to everywhere. People walking on it, the general shittiness of the air, GRIT(shortage) and so forth turn it into this grey sludge. Which slpashes and gets everywhere. I no longer have dry jeans and I'm not fucking going out in shorts. I do not wish to subvert the genre of winter clothing. This isn't the Apprentice (that's a topical reference, if maybe not a good one).
The other form is just ice.
"Ice isn't snow."
Fuck off.
It's a pain in the arse, especially when you fall over. Ha. Slippery and that. Hurts. Whatever. HATE IT.
Well, this entire thing could have been written by a whiney child. No matter. I think I made my point and that snow will be eventually BANNED. Thank you and good night.
Monday 29 November 2010
Tuesday 16 November 2010
Quick Update on the Flatmates
I forgot to mention something when I talked about the flatmates.
They thought I stole.
One of them had checked in and fucked off somewhere. Probably to the Salvation Army. Student Finance might not help people from Azerbaijan. I mentioned where they're from. That's bad. Oh well. There's more than two people there.
One of them checked in and left their door unlocked. I know it was unlocked because I tested the handle and walked in.
Everything was parallel. It was neat. All the angles of the room were 90 degrees or 180 degrees. It looked like a two-dimensional diagram.
Maybe it was wrong for me to look in the room, I don't care. I didn't see a fridge, so I am still confused about how they keep food fresh without the communal fridge. Maybe it's under the bed. Didn't check there.
They eventually came (see other blog).
"Did you know this door was unlocked?"
"...No."
"Why did you leave it unlocked?"
"You left it unlocked. Not my problem. Nobody could come into the flat, I was the only one here. Is there anything missing?"
"No."
"Good."
"..."
Go fuck yourself.
Yeah, that's the quick update. Bastards.
They thought I stole.
One of them had checked in and fucked off somewhere. Probably to the Salvation Army. Student Finance might not help people from Azerbaijan. I mentioned where they're from. That's bad. Oh well. There's more than two people there.
One of them checked in and left their door unlocked. I know it was unlocked because I tested the handle and walked in.
Everything was parallel. It was neat. All the angles of the room were 90 degrees or 180 degrees. It looked like a two-dimensional diagram.
Maybe it was wrong for me to look in the room, I don't care. I didn't see a fridge, so I am still confused about how they keep food fresh without the communal fridge. Maybe it's under the bed. Didn't check there.
They eventually came (see other blog).
"Did you know this door was unlocked?"
"...No."
"Why did you leave it unlocked?"
"You left it unlocked. Not my problem. Nobody could come into the flat, I was the only one here. Is there anything missing?"
"No."
"Good."
"..."
Go fuck yourself.
Yeah, that's the quick update. Bastards.
Monday 15 November 2010
Lexis and Pedantics
The module is actually called "Lexis and Semantics". Just for those who don't realise the explicitness of puns.
ANYWAY, this was one of the modules I chose to take to build up the number of points I needed to study a full year. Linguistics is linked to English, it concerns the meaning of words. I thought it would be an interesting thing to study. WRONG.
It starts off well considering the meanings and connotations of words and how these have changed over time and between cultures. It also considers different languages. Big mistake. This leads to a lot of interruptions from international students, saying one of two things.
"Yes, it is that."
OR
"No. We don't say that."
I pay a lump sum of money for these lectures, I do not need these unecessary interruptions which ultimately lead to the same conclusions. Waste of my time. I don't care if you have a different defintion of bear in Russian. Nobody cares. Russians would never need it unless they were reading a Western political cartoon. Or being raised by bears? Does that happen?
Hope so.
Onto the tutorials. My tutor is accidentally insulting.
"I'm from Brazil."
"Oh. You don't look Brazillian by any means."
Errrrrrrm.
He also called all of Spain, "drug dealers". And thought there was a Kryptonian musician called Billy Jo-El.
I digress. Forgot the point. It's rubbish anyway.
Wow. What a waste of everyone's time.
ANYWAY, this was one of the modules I chose to take to build up the number of points I needed to study a full year. Linguistics is linked to English, it concerns the meaning of words. I thought it would be an interesting thing to study. WRONG.
It starts off well considering the meanings and connotations of words and how these have changed over time and between cultures. It also considers different languages. Big mistake. This leads to a lot of interruptions from international students, saying one of two things.
"Yes, it is that."
OR
"No. We don't say that."
I pay a lump sum of money for these lectures, I do not need these unecessary interruptions which ultimately lead to the same conclusions. Waste of my time. I don't care if you have a different defintion of bear in Russian. Nobody cares. Russians would never need it unless they were reading a Western political cartoon. Or being raised by bears? Does that happen?
Hope so.
Onto the tutorials. My tutor is accidentally insulting.
"I'm from Brazil."
"Oh. You don't look Brazillian by any means."
Errrrrrrm.
He also called all of Spain, "drug dealers". And thought there was a Kryptonian musician called Billy Jo-El.
I digress. Forgot the point. It's rubbish anyway.
Wow. What a waste of everyone's time.
Friday 12 November 2010
The Flatmates
The absent flatmates. Usually something of legend, but in this case, it was just mediocre and boring.
Let's go into it.
They arrived the day after Freshers' Week ended. As I previously mentioned, one of them had checked in and then buggered off. Anyway, they arrived and I heard them coming into the flat. I immediatly rushed out to say "WELCOME," to the new friends. They barely said anything. I introduced myself and managed to get their names. Talked about their course, they didn't ask me about mine.
"Would you like a drink?"
"No, thanks."
Fucking fine then.
They do not keep food in the fridge or freezer. They do not use the bin in the kitchen. They don't want anything to do with sharing with me. Fuck 'em.
THEN: They got the building to hate our entire flat. Which includes me. I shall write out the transcript.
*Rings bell*
*Flatmate answers door*
GIRL: Hi, are you guys going out tonight?
FLATMATE: No.
*Closes door*
I was in the shower hearing all of this. Luckily, I was in the shower to hide my tears of rage.
Joking. I DO NOT CRY.
Those are the flatmates. If I were a lesser man, it would lead to a breakdown, but I am better than that. I don't even cry.
Let's go into it.
They arrived the day after Freshers' Week ended. As I previously mentioned, one of them had checked in and then buggered off. Anyway, they arrived and I heard them coming into the flat. I immediatly rushed out to say "WELCOME," to the new friends. They barely said anything. I introduced myself and managed to get their names. Talked about their course, they didn't ask me about mine.
"Would you like a drink?"
"No, thanks."
Fucking fine then.
They do not keep food in the fridge or freezer. They do not use the bin in the kitchen. They don't want anything to do with sharing with me. Fuck 'em.
THEN: They got the building to hate our entire flat. Which includes me. I shall write out the transcript.
*Rings bell*
*Flatmate answers door*
GIRL: Hi, are you guys going out tonight?
FLATMATE: No.
*Closes door*
I was in the shower hearing all of this. Luckily, I was in the shower to hide my tears of rage.
Joking. I DO NOT CRY.
Those are the flatmates. If I were a lesser man, it would lead to a breakdown, but I am better than that. I don't even cry.
Tuesday 9 November 2010
The Fresher's Introduction Blog
It has been a while since I wrote a blog in my irreverent style.
To all my faithful readers (neither of you exist), I am back. This is what I remember of Freshers' Week.
SUNDAY
Just met the Pope, who gave me some helpful advice in surviving university. Nice man. My father and I drove up to the university, had some Burger King on the way, bantering about how bad Sara Cox and Jo Whiley are at grammar. Drove up from London by the way, so a reasonably long drive. Got there and my flat was empty. Empty. No flatmates. Somebody had checked in and buggered off. So the traditional "Hi, we're from Flat..." turns into "Hi, I'm from Flat..." which feels weird to me, just weird. Unpacking and silence from my room as I slept. Then, I got a Facebook message from a FOAF asking to meet up for a drink. Sounded like fun.
Had dinner with the father, was a quiet affair as we talked about the day and the shower curtain. Then, we agreed to meet up for breakfast and went our seperate ways...mine was straight to the nearest pub. It was about nine and there were girls dancing on the tables. I remembered their faces and put them under the folder "SLAG" in my mind. Judgemental? Perhaps. Correct? Almost certainly.
Went to a club with free entry with my new friend, it used to be a church, but I quickly got over that as he told me about his first night in Aberdeen. He exchanged spit with someone and got punched in the face. Was it the same person? Unsure.
Went home drunk and warm.
MONDAY
Breakfast with the Dad. LIDL shopping. It really isn't that cheap. Final goodbye and that. Everything was emotional slightly. Get over it.
Sleeeeeep.
More drinking in the night with new friend and his flatmates. Mine are still absent. Like landlords of property in Victorian Ireland. Except there were no evictions. None that I know of. MAYBE THAT'S WHY THEY'RE NOT HERE!
Nah. I'll get into that later.
TUESDAY
Advisor meeting. Fucked up my entry qualifications. Come back tomorrow. I thoroughly enjoyed waiting in that queue for half an hour.
Freshers' Fayre for Sports. Was talking to a couple of the Football and Rugby guys and agreed to go to the tryouts. Eventually, I fell asleep and missed them. Oh well.
Sleeeeeeep.
Clubbing. I begin my hatred of Swedish House Mafia. There is no good bloody reason to play the same song four times in one night. This may not be SHM's fault, but I don't care. A lot of these club anthems are generic, worth a couple of dances, fine. Not every night. Give it a rest.
Heard this outside:
"Dynomite is the song of the year!"
Go fuck yourself.
WEDNESDAY
Freshers' Fayre for Societies today. Signed up for the Comedy Society and later on, the English Society. Seemed pretty happy with that.
Advisor meeting went reasonably well. Got into second year, that'll do nicely. Extra pressure. And the like.
Sleep. Clubbing. Blad.
THE REST OF THE WEEK
This blog is officially back. Nobody cares. I guess I do, but meh.
To all my faithful readers (neither of you exist), I am back. This is what I remember of Freshers' Week.
SUNDAY
Just met the Pope, who gave me some helpful advice in surviving university. Nice man. My father and I drove up to the university, had some Burger King on the way, bantering about how bad Sara Cox and Jo Whiley are at grammar. Drove up from London by the way, so a reasonably long drive. Got there and my flat was empty. Empty. No flatmates. Somebody had checked in and buggered off. So the traditional "Hi, we're from Flat..." turns into "Hi, I'm from Flat..." which feels weird to me, just weird. Unpacking and silence from my room as I slept. Then, I got a Facebook message from a FOAF asking to meet up for a drink. Sounded like fun.
Had dinner with the father, was a quiet affair as we talked about the day and the shower curtain. Then, we agreed to meet up for breakfast and went our seperate ways...mine was straight to the nearest pub. It was about nine and there were girls dancing on the tables. I remembered their faces and put them under the folder "SLAG" in my mind. Judgemental? Perhaps. Correct? Almost certainly.
Went to a club with free entry with my new friend, it used to be a church, but I quickly got over that as he told me about his first night in Aberdeen. He exchanged spit with someone and got punched in the face. Was it the same person? Unsure.
Went home drunk and warm.
MONDAY
Breakfast with the Dad. LIDL shopping. It really isn't that cheap. Final goodbye and that. Everything was emotional slightly. Get over it.
Sleeeeeep.
More drinking in the night with new friend and his flatmates. Mine are still absent. Like landlords of property in Victorian Ireland. Except there were no evictions. None that I know of. MAYBE THAT'S WHY THEY'RE NOT HERE!
Nah. I'll get into that later.
TUESDAY
Advisor meeting. Fucked up my entry qualifications. Come back tomorrow. I thoroughly enjoyed waiting in that queue for half an hour.
Freshers' Fayre for Sports. Was talking to a couple of the Football and Rugby guys and agreed to go to the tryouts. Eventually, I fell asleep and missed them. Oh well.
Sleeeeeeep.
Clubbing. I begin my hatred of Swedish House Mafia. There is no good bloody reason to play the same song four times in one night. This may not be SHM's fault, but I don't care. A lot of these club anthems are generic, worth a couple of dances, fine. Not every night. Give it a rest.
Heard this outside:
"Dynomite is the song of the year!"
Go fuck yourself.
WEDNESDAY
Freshers' Fayre for Societies today. Signed up for the Comedy Society and later on, the English Society. Seemed pretty happy with that.
Advisor meeting went reasonably well. Got into second year, that'll do nicely. Extra pressure. And the like.
Sleep. Clubbing. Blad.
THE REST OF THE WEEK
- More drinking and clubbing
- Meeting people and not remembering their names
- Calling home to console my mother and let her know that I wasn't dead or anything silly
- Surviving on takeaways
- Wondering if I would ever have flatmates.
This blog is officially back. Nobody cares. I guess I do, but meh.
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