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Monday, January 2, 2012

Evil Essays, Cubic Memories and why I am a idiot.

When your lecturers send you off on your holidays, wishing you well, expressing their hopes you come back relaxed and refreshed, you may notice them smiling.
Its because they know what they just did. They made a joke. Only, its only funny to them. As Academics they find no greater pleasure than endless reading and writing, whilst the rest of us would rather be hanging out, watching TV and doing normal people things rather than behaving like Dr. Sheldon Cooper.
I for one hate writing essays, don't hate writing, you already figured that out though. I hate writing about other peoples ideas and then having to writing nearly as much in reference their tasty as chalk dust book.
They love nothing more than making Christmas holidays miserable. I want to have fun. Not write essays.
At one time Child Language Acquisition was the most interesting thing I'd ever come across, at one point I cared if I wrote a decent essay. I remember a time when I didn't need a bat cave full of food to eat just to keep me going.
I have 9 of the blessed things to write next term.
If at some point you find a broken shell that gibbers and looks haggard, and perhaps half resembles me, remove it from the learning zone, take it home, force it to eat and drink nutritious things and then put it to bed.  11 hours I'll fall into the bathroom making comments like "Why am I awake?" ,"How did I get here?",  "Why did they frape me whilst I was delirious?"

I don't remember it but according to my housemate on the first day of uni this year (7AM alarm) I fell out of my room announced "What is this unholy hour?!", Yelped (I stubbed my toe - I remember that),
and crashed into the bathroom.

I don't mornings. I do them about as effectively as I write essays. One A - Level tutor frequently called mine "Utter carnage".

However this afternoon whilst writing one of these horrendous pains in the rear, something quite marvelously procrastinational happened. In fact it was a lot like what we began to reminisce about.
Good times in the Cube.
There were a lot of sucky times at college.
But there were also some epically awesome times.

It involved people like those.
Doing stuff like this:

And throwing very humble people parties:



I miss those times. The parties. The violent card games, (trust me you've never played Go Fish! or Cheat! till you've played it with us - or more specifically Josh.), the ceaseless hilarity, the shuddering at the words "ASDA, GUYS?! Pleeeeeeease?" (NO! We will not buy you more food. Buy it yourself!), the terror induced by Conor uttering the words "Well, You see..." (that was always and indication that severe mental trauma was about to be inflicted), picnics in the park and the amazing friendships that remain to this day.
We made a point of accepting anyone. We didn't much like the common room, and they thought we were mighty odd. 

We were, still are and intend to remain so. Admittedly some of us were odder than others. Very few people who were at NEW College in 09/10 have forgotten Jed's Lightsaber battles. Or his karaoke. But that's why we loved him. We were a motley assortment of Characters and that's why we worked and still do.

We get together sometimes. But its not the same, and the room no  longer even exists in the same way. 

This essay is still giving me grief. I'm giving up for today.

Tbf I gave up hours ago.

But that's not why I am a lummox.
Sorry was watching Pirates of the Carribean. No-one uses that word better than Cap'n Jack.

Side note.

No I am a lummox because I can't take advice. Or think such advice is irrelevant to me because I'm not that stupid. I wouldn't make that mistake again.
Turns out I am and have.
And just as my friend told me way back in October, I've gone and got myself hurt.
Because my brain, my heart and I are all at odds with each other.
And the only half cocked plan I've got so far is to avoid the situation entirely.
Refer back to the bit about being a complete numbnuts.
The thing is as well by the time I realised, "I probably should have been more proactive with that advice..." it was already far too late. 

New Year, New Start.

Yeah. Right.
We'll see.
(and I said that in exactly the same way that your parents did when it meant "er, yeah right")

And having said this, I'm never going to mention it again.
See avoiding the situation.
It may serve to help me a bit.
The destruction of Facebook would help too. 
Actually that would help in lots of ways.
Mark Zuckerberg has more to damage my degree than anyone else.
I'm getting rambly.
Always a good indication of its being bed time.
NaNight!
Beth xx

1 comment:

  1. Gotta admit though, kinda brilliant that one of my most mundane statuses got the band back together and talking for over 200 comments lasting a good three plus hours =D

    ReplyDelete