I live on a diet of c-words

What news from the west?

Balloons! That's how they're luring new students in. Sadly I could not find the source. Feels like years since I been there and it's like coming home and going on holiday at the same time. The freshers are generally pretty rubbish though I did see the cutest guy with all this scruffy hair and sideburns but he was with his mammy. D'awww. Also seen was a woman with a motorcycle that had all this wild hair and thick braces (I do so love braces) and a man with a permanent one eyebrow up and one eyebrow down. Flooded a small area with CVs since my last interview went so miserably. Classics is still wonderfully cosy and History's door is still too high for me to reach the latch. I'm in two days next week for registration and then it's back to uni, a week on Tuesday. I am ridiculously happy at the thought. Not least because I can justify my pass again and take buses everywhere. Everywhere within the G zones anyway. My hair is an explosion. Fireworks on my head. I tell you I walked down Kelvin Way over the bridge and far away, thinking fairy tales, dreaming mythology, singing philosophy. My leather stinks of rain and second-hand smoke and my hair is Chanel, the only perfume I dare risk on my skin (I am influenced by girls in bowler hats, yes). It smelt like impending rain. The Subterraneans was a terrible film yes but there was a scene with the arty redhead telling the frenchie to stay away from the writer. Once the novel is done so is the love affair. Well I finished my novel and I fell in love. This is all I can make out scrawled on the back of a half-printed scene.

"Do you love me, Sophie?"
"No point in that question."

I don't need no educayshun

Cliiick for biiig

Could we have the freedom with less arse flashing please

History we moved on from gender to race. And nobody had much to say and I tried not to rant too much about German nationalism in the nineteenth century but I did write it so damn much in 6th year. Only productive thing I did that year. And then one guy with the smuggest, shit-eating grin pipes up about nationalism being a load of crap and Alex Sammond being an "idiot who pandered to those who wanted England to lose and loved Braveheart" and I kind of lost it. I mean ok, independence is not that big of a deal these days and we're not being oppressed or anything but I'd call myself a nationalist and I couldn't give a shit if England won the world cup and I think our national anthem is a disgrace. I admit I voted SNP for a laugh, to shake things up. I want a revolution. Politics are getting stale. But he argued that nationalist was a movement away from a democratic government which is a fucking joke unless he voted in Gordon Brown because I certainly didn't nor did the rest of this dozy country. And the absolute best bit? He was wearing a Scotland rugby top and apologised in that awful way guys do when it comes to sport to the English guy next to him cause I dunno they lost? I don't watch rugby. I kind of lost it and just laughed at him.

Despite just ranting angrily and amusedly at the smug bastard and mouthy girl with badly dyed ginger hair I got murmurs of approval when I argued that it wasn't about England, it was about being Scottish and separate from Britain since, despite what mouthy told me, I have never called myself British. And these murmurs came from the quiet gothy girl with dreadlocks who would be quirkily gorgeous if her mouth wasn't quite so big and awkward looking and from the guy who isn't very subtle with the reading of my breasts (which is my own fault for wearing tshirts with writing on them and I made a point of stretching out when I caught his eye making him look rather uncomfortable).

The result of arguing so much? My tutor knows my name. Apart from the Polish girl's name (Marta, seems every girl I meet from Poland is called Marta) mine is the only one she remembers. It's petty but it's also pretty bloody awesome.

The best thing about Glasgow Uni

It's not the education or the pride of actually being there. It's not the community or the pretty buildings or being able to say "yeah meet you in the cloisters at 2" or that ancient musty book smell that permeates University Gardens. It's not watching Neighbours in leather sofas with black coffee and bagels and adorable boys with unfortunate names who speak French almost apologetically.

No, my friend. It's ducks.

I'm a walking cliché when such a creature I sight

I fell in love four times today.

I think it's the result of being so goshdarned jaded and tired of the big bad world, hold on while I break out the red wine (actually I quite fancy some but we only have good stuff in the alcohol cupboard of mostly evaporated drink), that makes the silly romantic side of me to be a little over the top. There's not really a happy medium with me. I'm a cynic until he complains and then I either ditch him or lose myself in fanciful notions.

But when I'm single I fall for just about everybody I meet.

I will say right now that they were all female. I cannot help that.

First off I got up early this morning and turned up to my history lecture for the first time in a month. Why? Because today was Marxism. What I didn't know was the lecture was being taken by a woman who had a fantastic accent (although where she was from I can't say) and she wasn't hugely attractive. Until she spoke. She was one of those lecturers that really cares about what she was talking about and for once it was a subject I was interested in hearing about. She had a black shirt on and hadn't buttoned up the sleeves. Every time she spoke of the Proletariats and the Bourgeoisie, her arms would wave around excitedly, flashing white skin to the half empty lecture hall. I could have listened to her all day. She's teaching for another week. I might just turn up.

I saw the second on the way down ashton lane where I had like the best panini thing ever. It was her hair. Originally brunette she had dyed her hair pink and then blue or purple. The result was a technicolour mess that shouldn't have worked but left me entranced as she rummaged in her bag for something. The way she shook her head made all the colours whirl and I swore it looked like they flashed between them all. I desperately wanted to know what possessed her to that to her head, and if she knew it was going to end up so spectacularly beautiful or if it was a happy accident. But alas, like always, I hesitated too long and she was gone.

The third stalked past me in the library. Tall and self-sure she had short hair in that burgundy colour that everybody seems to be choosing these days and a waistcoat that just looked right. She was gorgeous in a androgynous perfume haze as she pushed everyone else out of her way to get to the desk.

And lastly I noticed a pair of legs propped on the back of the broken seat next to me in archaeology. Her tights had large swirling roses that trailed up to a purple skirt. She talked through the long explanation about geoarchaeology and where the stones of stonehenge came from about some show that was like Battlestar Galactica but like really funny and with that guy from Two Guys and a Girl (Nathan Fillion I interjected and was met with a big smile and isn't Firefly the greatest). She had curly dark hair tucked under a purple beenie and a genuine smile that showed her fat teeth.

And I chose to share this with you rather than keep it to myself because I don't wanna talk about the football. I ranted all afternoon to Helen (who obliged with sympathetic sounds) to the extent that the table of boys next to us felt emasculated and I heard "So um like who do you support?" and 2 Rangers fans half-heartedly attempted to out talk me.

It wouldn't be make believe if you believed in me

Blogging in the library
Blogging in the library cause I'm so bored
Blogging in the library and the girl next to me is dressed entirely in pink and is freaking me out.
Helen had no labs today so she'd gone home by the time my mind-numbingly boring lecture finished. Honest to God I don't know what was going on and I wrote down nothing. My notes are some observations about the girl's hair in front of me. Wandered around to kill some time before trapping myself in the library and also to eat my lunch of a Bounty (because the vending machine decided that all chunkier and cheaper chocolate bars did not exist even though I could see them and totally typed in the number perfectly). Wandered into the wee arcade down the road. Fell in love with a notebook. I would have married this notebook. It was tall, thin, wrapped in stripey material with a cameo on the front. No price and a pitiful number of pages. It was impractical and although I have 3 pages of my diary left and no suitable replacement (I have started writing already in all of my remaining notebooks and none of them are as sturdy as my little paperblank) I could not bring myself to buy this one. But I can't stop thinking about it. So goddamn beautiful I could cry.

Wandered into Fopp instead to see what French films they had cheap. Walked straight into Rochester who is decidedly less attractive now that he got a hair cut but the side burns are still pretty good. I suspect, but his bag was in the way and I could not ascertain the truth, but I suspect that he is lacking in the ass department. Which is a problem as I don't trust assless men. Maybe it was just the food and sleep deprivation but he definitely looked skinnier than usual. Anyway he was on the phone and gave me a smile but I got bored and bought a dvd I can't afford and chatted with the very excitable salesman who praised my choice in film and raved about New Wave. Too tired so I just smiled.

Most adorable man was struggling to get on his bike with an enormous bouquet of flowers and I couldn't stop laughing at his attempts. He gave me this big sheepish grin as he passed and I just about melted with the cuteness.

I picked up the wrong book so I can't even waste time doing my Classics work. Bleh. 5 hours to kill tomorrow. What can one do in 5 hours? I could sleep, or go to the cinema but that's depressingly lonely, I could take the bus back and forth until I got ill, I could try and fix my novel that is dying on me, I could write cover letters for magazine submissions, I could charge up my gameboy and finish all the games I haven't finished, I could read the war between the science and arts faculties that's going on in the library toilet walls, I could finish all the novels I started to read over the holidays (I'm currently trying to read 6 books at once), I could phone up absolutely everybody I know in the hopes that they're free or I could go home and make a skirt out of a NYPD tshirt and abandon all intention of attending that lecture at 3.

Tough call.

A selection of thoughts written tween the hours of 10 and 2

With a whirr that interrupts the Landau Orchestra the blinds crawl up the great windows and the gothic spire looms before me. The clouds themselves part to let the light in. I sit in this cold, hard library chair and the sun, something we haven't seen much of lately, creeps in and makes me sneeze. My heart swells a little at the romance of the scene outside.

And just like that, the whirring noise disturbs my thoughts as the blinds come back down and I take one last look through half-lidded eyes and a too-long fringe. I have next Monday off. Maybe I'll get a haircut.

I'm studying gender again in History. I can't escape it. As a woman, naturally I care. At least it's modern history. Less "nuns, ahhh!" and more "women are boring and silly, lets laugh at them."

What is this song? Oh, man I know it, I know it. C'mon hurry up introduction. Oh, there we go, it's the Eels. Huh. I suck at recognising music.

I don't know whether it is the light or the angle but the window is doing crazy things. I can see the stacks trailing off into the sky and my daft nose floating in the middle of them. The roof in front of me is green and rusty. I think it's the hideous Boyd Orr that everyone hates. I love the view up here. I love going up to East Kilbride, or rather coming down from East Kilbride at that dip in the road where Glasgow stretches out before me and my heart soars. I remember drives through Argyle, round Loch Fyne. I kayaked in Loch Long. I'll be fieldtripping to Loch Tay. I've never been to Loch Ness. One of the Christophers did. He said he saw the monster. Ben who could pick his nose with his tongue confirmed the story.

The light and smell here reminds me of Iceland. Those brightly dull mornings. We went there in March when I was wee. Snow towering above my head. I was four and a quarter so I kept telling my dad's camera. "I'm four annna quarter and we are in Iceland and it is snowing and go way I wanna sleep now Dad. Stop being silly."

Laura and I used to say snow came from East Kilbride as we watched the cars come down the windy hill. She suggested we elope there until I pointed out elope meant running away and getting married.

There's a guy sitting next to me asleep. He has nice thighs.

My plaster is folded in the creases of my palm. When I stretch out it's as if the plaster is my skin.

The air conditioning makes my nose run and my arms shiver. I feel like I'm in an airport. Our flight was delayed once coming home from Rome or Barcelona. Everybody lay on the floor; huddled, bored and Glaswegian. It was cosy.

Y'know what, I'm goddamn proud of myself for being here. I told everybody I was going to get in and then I did. And I got an A in Archaeology.

Blinds are up again, the guy rearranges himself. Those thighs look comfy. If I was a lot more attractive and a little more crazy maybe I'd sit on them. I like sitting on people.

My hands smell of play-doh. They always do on a Monday after yesterday's clean. Rubber gloves? Chemicals? This looks like a job for science. Room is brighter now and emptier. My reflection beside me is mirror clear. I look scruffy. The guy is fast asleep again. My bic is sticky from the plaster. Plautus remains unread. The main building looks beautiful in the muted light. I want to jump that boy. Is that wrong? Wrong that I want him to wake up and see me and ask me out and take me back to his cramped apartment.

Valentine's Day is approaching. Dunno why I thought of that. How dull. Profess your love with chocolates and roses. What does it matter if you don't love her anyway. Although the roses on Byres Road look beautiful, but then they always do.

Once again love drives me on that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done - Sappho. Found on the toilet roll dispenser in the library toilet and I had to note it down.

Becky Stark is in my ears now. I want to scoop her up in my arms and carry her away. She would be wearing a white dress with flowers in her hair. But no time for love, Doctor Jones. Time for Sweeney Todd.

Una historia sin tiempo

"Cath, you know it's like half past nine?"
"No, no s'ok mum. I don't have History today, it's Monday."

I then went back to having a conversation with someone who was in the bed beside me and it was deep stuff. I unburdened myself upon them and they did not judge me. I bared my soul, unloaded all of those pesky little secrets that usually want to pour forth at 3 in the morning when I've been awake too long again but there's nobody around. I like to talk as I fall asleep. I have no idea what I'm saying but it needs to be said. David Number Three used to let me yammer on while he turned round and fell asleep surreptitiously. If I was conscious enough to be annoyed I'd start telling him crazy things in the hope he'd at least freak out, give me a reaction. All I ever got was snoring. It was an unfulfilling relationship to say the least.

"Cath, you know it's like quarter past nine? You awake?"

I opened my eyes and may have grunted something because my mum shrugged and walked off. 2 days into the second semester and I've missed my first History class that wasn't enrollment. I didn't even stay out late last night to avoid this, despite enjoying spending time with Rob because we make the best noises that turn into pirates half the time. I went home after having an epiphany on the train, losing it when I walked in the door and settling for the bowl of strawberries that nobody else had claimed already. To be honest they might have explained the dreams.

I'm really trying to fight my laziness. I mean I did my first day back so dress up because it's easier to fake it in a skirt than jeans and I spoke to like 3 new people. I was a little disappointed that the cute ginger girl didn't carry on Classics but I think I already knew that and hung out with the girl who is actually kinda old. I only point that out because we were talking about graduation and she was all "omg I'll be thirty" and that was scary. I mean thirty is older than I can imagine being. I'll be 22, 23 maybe if I take that year out in Ireland or Iceland or Greece. Unfortunately annoying 'lets make out in class' couple and fat guy who steals your desk were all still in my class and Mouse Face is too and still determined to sit almost next to me but say nothing even when I smiled hello. He did his 'maybe I'll say something' face and then turned away. Cannot be bothered with more of that. And my Classics class is in the Engineering building. First off it's a horrible looking tacked on modern building next to the Gothic main one, 2nd to get to it I have to clamber over the road torn up by trees and climb oddly spaced out stairs and 3rd? Well it's full of engineering students. These are people who know maths, that wouldn't spend ages agonising over percentages in shops and triple checking addition before heading to the cash desk. they intimidate me something fierce.

But my point was the laziness. Maybe I should at least try and adhere to my sex. Just a little. Spend more than 2 minutes throwing on whatever doesn't smell bad or look crumpled. But even when I make a little effort it never takes more than 10 minutes unless I'm looking for something in particular which means it's at the bottom of a pile in a room nobody goes into. And half the time I'm only making myself look good for myself. I don't really like attracting attention, just makes me think there's something wrong with me, and I'm still a little wary since the time the crazed junkie wouldn't leave me alone but that's really another thing altogether.

Plus like 3 people on separate occasions have remarked "that was quick!" when I've come back from the toilet in this past week. Like they expected me to be ages. What I'm supposed to be doing in there I'm not sure but clearly I'm not doing it for long enough? Is there some sort of set time for girls that I don't know about, because I don't have make up to check and I know my hair looks awful without looking and maybe I should have just worn a hat?

God, I'm starving. I think it's time for make toast and pour all the leftover syrups and honey on top to make a gooey meal!

I'll never be the shine in your spit

The French musical about threesomes that I wanted to see? Yeah it's out now. Know where it's showing? Edinburgh. And France I guess. Sucks! I wanted to hear French people sing their feelings about sex. It's a sad day for multicultural porn.

So, last day of term for me and I turned up to all my classes. Few made it to Archaeology which is a shame, the lecturer is lovely and the actual lecture was pretty good since it was about digging instead of politics. Mouse Face was there and I sat next to him unintentionally. Not right next to him but near enough. Everytime the lecturer made a joke and we laughed MF turned to me like we were sharing something. He walked down the stairs right next to me afterwards and I thought he'd say something but he just looked at me and didn't follow me out the door. Classics was dull, dull, dull like always and the place was full of people I've never seen before. MF was there too (I sat a couple of rows behind him) and he turned round a good few times, caught my eye and said nothing. Missed your last chance Mouse Face! All that creepy looking for nothing. Silly boy.

One of the girls I hung out with for the first month of Classics turned up today after many months of not being around. She's great and we had a giggle at RobeMan's complete utter bafflement when faced with technology. Her friend Jo wasn't there though. Jo was the first (and only) person I met at Glasgow who had heard of where I live since she lives like up the hill and went to the rival school in the area. We had laughs about how we should be stabbing each other up. Good times.

And so I trundled home in the bus with a screaming redhead in my ears and blood in my mouth and as we turned into Renfield Street I recalled a mild argument Julie had with me last night about something I did (or rather didn't do) three years ago. It wasn't the argument on my mind though it was the time. Three years ago I was fifteen years old and I spent nights like this shivering on dark streets in my black miniskirt and stripy tights with a boy enthralled. It would be another month before love reared its ugly head and I was just learning what power my hips held. If I had just held on to that naive sexuality maybe I would have had a better time but sadly it didn't last. But for those two months I had the confidence to wear that skirt in winter and I found out what it was to flirt and tease and have a guy around who was more into me than I was into him. Three years. Seems an age and nothing.

Grand ol' team to play for

I was tired and my throat was still gunky. Classics had just been more information on Greeks and their little slave boys and rules on who was allowed to get aroused and who wasn't. My archaeology teacher had made the mistake of proposing a debate and putting me on defence of crazy theories. I don't think I've ever spoken so much in a tutorial before. I had a lift at the writer's group since they liked my story about blind lesbians but the long cold night ahead was daunting. Why did Uefa decide hey now everyone's used to football on wednesdays, a day that everybody is happy with, let's move it to tuesday when everyone has busy days? Grr.

After a few shots leading nowhere half-time was drawing near. Aiden McGeady, teeny little scottish guy who got bullied last season by a big fat ginger Irish player had a shot but I didn't stand up, I thought it had missed. It wasn't until the man next to me grabbed hold of my elbow and lifted me up that I saw the net swoosh and I realised we were winning. So thank you very much man next to me, next time could you not keep trying to hold my arm even when I pull away several times? Yeah? Good. Just glad it wasn't my dead arm, oh how I would have raged.

And so we won and actually have a chance again to progress further, which means more games and more mini-holidays :D

It was freezing though. I knew I should have worn a jumper but my classes are always far too warm. Total mistake, I was shivering for ages when I got home. This is how colds happen, Catherine, you should know this by now!

I was in fopp the other day where I parted with money for cds! Not done that in a while. I was browsing through the so-called 'alternative' section which is just rock music made in the last 2 decades really. I bought a Regina Spektor and a Modest Mouse album but this is how I made my choices:

Dum dee dum ooo stuff's a fiver. Fiver's cheap. I have a fiver! It's a sign! Holy crap she's hot:

Purchased.

I'll have a quick look round first, ooh they've got The Shins, aw too expensive, put it back. Ooh, The Decemberists oh no there's none here just the sign, grumble grumble. I own this cd! And this one! That one's crap, why do people like them? Aw well, I'll just go pay...ooo Modest Mouse and it's pretty and blue and a fiver too. Let's see what songs are on it: Jesus Christ was an only childThat's a great title!...Purchased.

I am a master of killing time. I'm a time assassin.

Revolution's fine, but give me the high fives and the hugs and I'm happy

Today was a successful day. The train arrived in town on time, I didn't have to wait for my bus in or back home, I handed in my essay so I won't have to think about nuns and feminism for a few weeks at least, fopp had two cds I wanted for a fiver each and Indiana Jones was referenced again in my archaeology lecture. Good times, man, good times.

My eye is socially acceptable now. I can walk down the streets of this mean town and not be gawked at. Well, mostly. I never knew I made so many weird faces when I'm thinking. It's a problem. One I ain't solving so deal.

On friday archaeology was so dull we all just about cried. The one piece of information I remember was about how the Peruvians who lived in the first known city were permanently stoned on aphrodisiacs! Yay for Peru I guess. This week was much better. The actual subject matter was bleh, a lot of it is since we aren't digging until after Christmas, but every so often we got a little snippet of something better. For instance, did you know that Arthur Pendragon has been reborn and lives amongst us now awaiting his awakening as the King of England? It's true! Apparently he's laid claim to Stonehenge once he takes the throne. Good on you, you poor, pathetic madman!

We had quotes from Byron, Orwell and a very angry Aboriginal woman. Sometimes I miss my English Lit degree. Sure all the poems we studied were about sex or death or sex with dead people (yay for Browning) but it was cosy and familiar. I'm still getting used to a course like Archaeology which borders on science too often for my likes. Then we get lectures like today where it's all romantic poets and philosophical ideas. These I know. But I remember the girls in the English classes and bah! I'm better off even with Mouseface. Plus y'know there's the geek references to Indiana Jones and how he could have just flown over to England if he wanted the Ark of the Covenant so much.

When I came out of he class a certain little midgetgirl skipped out in front of me, itty bitty ass wiggling and stupid squeaky voice yammering on her phone. I'd forgotten she existed to tell you the truth. I haven't seen her since that first couple of weeks, I figured she'd stopped turning up to avoid me. She changed her subjects last year to avoid being in English with me. Apparently she blamed me for ruining her choices, like I'd deliberately picked it so she couldn't. I found this ridiculous but then I didn't know what she was doing behind my back so it did seem rather odd out of context. But there she was today. I was close enough to shove her down the stairs and claim it wasn't me and whereas a month ago I would have been close to murder now I felt nothing. She was just a nobody. A nobody who is less attractive than me even with the eye thing I've got going on. And that felt damn good.

I actually had some free time after all that. No essays due for a couple of weeks, no tutorial work either. I just have to rest up for my long(er) day tomorrow so I've been reading Joey Comeau and eating strawberries.

I leave you now with the world's best detective, mostly cause I found it in a folder I didn't know I had on my desktop.

I skipped Classics today

But it's okay. I actually found the shortened version of what I missed online.

Here

It's too fucking true! Greek men lounging drinking wine and having orgies is what I woulda been learning about today. They just tarted it up by calling it a symposium lecture. Phah!

Sometimes I think I should have just picked philosophy and sat stroking my chin and saying hmmm. Much less erections on pots.

Party Hats and Cake for all!

My essay is done!

No more feminist ranting for me this year, no siree bob!

Woo!

What have we learned?

It's been a month of my second first year at Glasgow University. To celebrate and to prove that I'm getting something out of this I've decided to share with you some of the more interesting things I've learnt so far.

1. You can always improve a lecture by using the Nazis as an example.
2. Archaeology can be "the most fun you can have with your pants on."
3. The begetting section of the Bible actually has a use other than filler.
4. King John, upon seeing Hadrian's Wall, declared it was built by a race of Giants who had died out in a series of earthquakes.
5. Pippin after seeing the success of Gondor went on to usurp the throne of what would become modern day France.
6. Dublin is a Viking city. Thus Vikings with Irish accents exist. Just for you Emma!
7. It's alright to cheat on your wife as long as you cry about it a lot.
8. Homer may have been a Homera.
9. The more technology one has, the more civilised one is.
10. When the Greeks passed through Egypt they left graffiti on important monuments.
11. Never ask for help to defend your empire when nobody really trusts you in the first place. You get the crusades instead.
12. Nazis really did go around looking for archaeological evidence that they rocked during the thirties.
13. Never trust a god. They'll help you through all the things you probably didn't need much help with but when you take on 108 men by yourself they turn into a bird and fly off to laugh at you from a safe distance.
14. SUBTERFUDGE
15. The biggest threat to Odysseus in all the twenty years he spent away from home is impotence.
16. The best Pope name so far is Pope Innocent the third.
17. Being a solitary hermit is hard to do. Everyone wants to follow you thus ruining the whole point of being a hermit in the first place.
18. If you fight hard enough for a cause the Church doesn't agree with at all they just might give in. Just before you die. And it will only apply to you.
19. Never brag that your wife is the hottest ever and then force your right hand man to sneak in and see her naked.
20. The Greeks had a guide on when and where to pee.
21. Humans have the same number of hair follicles on their body as a monkey.
22. Aphrodite, the most beautiful and sexy thing to ever supposedly exist, was created from the genitials of another God.
23. Professor Robes still exist. And people wear them. And call an OHP a visualiser.
24. Glasgow Uni was originally built in the East End until the area became a bit dodgy. Subsequently it was moved to the West End because it was feared the students would fool around with the prostitutes.
25. Admitting that the pickled babies in the Hunterian Museum make you broody makes even biology students freak.
26. The QMU put 2 shots of espresso in their Mocha and that's why taking a huge gulp of it thinking it would be weak like everywhere else is not a good move. Especially when that cute guy was sitting right next to you and saw your 'woah what did I just drink?!' face.
27. This goes double when you drink the really thick bitter chocolate syrup at the bottom of the cup that you forgot to mix properly.
And finally
28. Otters are cute

We all go down together

I do love that I spent last night thinking about Uni and the goodness of it all and of course I wake up this morning too late to go to History.

I've got another couple of hours to kill before I head in for Classics and my first ever Archaeology tutorial. I can't stand tutorials truth be told. I'd much rather just have more lectures. I don't like talking in small groups. My spoken communication skills aren't exactly what you'd call good. It's not that I don't have anything to say, but I tend to say it too quietly or I just can't be bothered trying to find a time to say it and I never can be bothered to contradict people. Unless they piss me off like that Londoner in my English class who said Roald Dahl hated children and Grimm's fairy tales were all princesses getting married. What about the one with mouse, the sausage and the crow hmm? Where's the sexist happy ending there, you ass?

But yeah, tutorials, hate em. Today will probably be the pointless introductory one where we go round the group and say our names and where we live before going home wondering what the point of turning up was. Oh right, so we don't fail. Gotcha.

If it wasn't for that I wouldn't bother with today at all. Some days just aren't days to bother with. Plus I had the craziest dream. Second time I've had it now. After my usual ridicously over-the-top romance dream that whirls by all normal like and happy the weirdness always interferes. Wouldn't be much of a dream if there wasn't some crazy. The crazy of last night (and sometime last week) involved me being in a bar with some guy who decides the drink is rubbish and over-priced. So we set off to buy and make our own. Thus follows the longest time of me staring at various items in a supermarket which if I could remember them probably holds some sort of significance. Thing is he won't shut up about the vinegar which is apparently the key ingredient when you're trying to make vodka and cranberry. When I questioned this he got really violent and I woke up soon after I finally got the drink and some girl from nowhere complained about the lack of ice.

I'm getting kind of bored of dreams where I'm looking for something pointless in a shop. It's like all I do in real life when I'm bored and now I get to do it asleep too. Woo and hoo come to mind.

Lets see now what have I got this week? Hair cut tomorrow: goodbye man hair, hello one week of it looking pretty hot then foof! Oooo next issue of Runaways comes out on Thursday. Gotta have a bit of Whedon to get me through the week now I've got another month to wait for buffy. Seriously comic reading is killing me financially but I can't not buy them. Buffy! Plus Molly Hayes is just the cutest thing. She beat up Wolverine!

Oh, but on the free side of things Sugar Shock is Joss Whedon's webcomic. Only three issues long but it's pretty wacky fun.

Anyway I better go get dressed and stuff although gods know how I'll find the inclination to do so.

We'll all float on anyway

I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about Uni this year. There's the fear that slips in every so often when I think about deadlines and early starts and dealing with administration. I hate dealing with secretaries and librarians. They all made with power I tells ya. But I focus on the main thing. I got a goal this time. Something resembling a plan.

And in the end I just remind myself that it's the means to an end. All these essays and exams are just stepping stones to a life. And a life is what I long for.

There's a lot of moments where I just think why bother. I've got another 4 years, 5 if I choose to go abroad (which I just might, Galway is just so prettily Irish after all!) of learning. Sometimes it just seems too much of a drag. But then the alternatives are much worse. I can't get a job and boy have I been trying and I think I would die before I became some sort of stay-at-home mum. But anyway all of those things go away when I look at where I get to study. God, the people there may be mostly a tad stuck-up and I've met so few people that I could actually stand but when I walk down the streets and have to stop to let some squirrels pass or when I'm sitting in (the most uncomfortable) the only preserved Victorian lecture hall it doesn't matter. I sit in the little courtyard reading my Homer, listening to the church organ play behind me and helping out the gorgeous Chinese girl in finding her class and I don't mind the cold Autumn wind or the fact that I haven't spoken to a single person all day since I got out of bed.

On a side note my Classics lecturer keeps mentioning the Iliad, saying that "of course nobody will have read it" or that nobody reads classic literature unless they're studying it. It's like lets make Catherine feel like a bigger geek than she already is. I've had to explain to people why Dawn is capitalised and acts like a person when that doesn't make sense, or who the hell Persephone is and why does she keep popping up in the underworld for no reason. I kinda thought I'd turn up for Classics and meet similiarly minded ancient Greek geeks like myself. Seems I was mistaken.

My hopelessly romantic mind was checked all summer and for a good while before as well. Unfortunately, it's returned and I look for love around every corner. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for but then I never am and usually it ends in me finding someone and settling for them. Is it so wrong to want someone to fall hopelessly in love with you and not be a total weirdo who just uses you?

To cheer myself up and because they were cheaper than usual, I bought Angel. I've never really watched them aside from the few episodes in which Buffy crossed over or a couple I watched over the summer but I'm loving the series so far. Only I wish somebody could have warned me that the attractive Irish man died so freakin' early on. I knew he was gonna die but not that soon! Thanks tons Mr Whedon/life for making everything a little bit more gloomy. I had to watch Black Books just to get my fix of Irishness.

Which reminds me The Shins are coming to Glasgow in November on the same day that I'm seeing Bill Bailey. I missed them earlier this year and now once again. So if any of The Shins are there or have some sort of psychic ability when you come back (and please do come back) please make it a day I'm available. I will totally dance my ass off and woo and yay better than anyone else.

In conclusion, I am very tired and I wish I was in love.

No candy in your till, no cutie left to thrill.

First week done. Lets wrap up.

Did I manage to miss a class through sleepiness and ickiness? Check

Did I manage to meet someone new and babble incessantly about crap? Check

Did I see an impossibly attractive male and fall in love despite not talking to him and missing half a lecture about I dunno, a map or something? Mhmm check

Did I see someone I wish was dead, dying or at least being generally hated? Why is she alive? Why is she in the one class that I just wanted to enjoy myself and a girl who hates me, stole my boyfriend from me and generally just creeps me out. Ugh it was a bad way to end my week.

Archaeology despite her is just what I hoped it would be. The first thing he mentioned was time team, followed swiftly by the ever-wonderful Indiana Jones. Next came the vague promise of treasure and last came el phrase fantastico that archaeology was 'the most fun you can have with your pants on'. How could I not love this subject?

I'm exhausted now, was at work early today. Got my hand slammed between a bookcase and a hard place and man is that ever painful. Crazy sore.

Not much else to say now. Too tired. Bleargh and all that.

Julie's birthday tomorrow. Yay for Julie!

Death Proof

I saw it last night! Freakin awesome. It was all ridiculous and silly and so conscious of itself. I giggled and I worried for people's welfare and I definitely had one or two 'Fuck Yeah' female empowerment moments. I will say no more other than go see and go see now! And I wish wish wish I could have seen it as the two part grindhouse experience it was meant to be. Zombies and fake trailers (such as the previously linked Don't) would have completed my evening. As it was, I did enjoy Death Proof in its own right but mostly because I knew what it was trying to be and I had been anticipating it for yonks.


First day of uni and it was quite good. My history teacher offered up many definitions of Medieval including "I'm gonna get Medieval on your ass". I suspect he may be a little gay as he spent a lot of time talking about the 'manly, cool, modern Heath Ledger' and the 'fun-kay groovy beats of Bowie' with a sort of dreamy look in his eyes.

I also had to wait like 20 whole minutes for my bagel. The guy was new which could explain it but gawd it was like he was trying to live life ten times slower than everyone else in the world. I was so hungry I nearly jumped over the counter and made it myself. Still tasty though when I finally got to eat it. Love Uni Bagels. <3

I'm so tired, like blarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh tired but I have one class tomorrow at ten and then nothing. Funny thing, turns out one of my Italian buddies from last year is taking Classics too and she introduced me to her friend, who lives up the road from me and when to the other high school in our area. Crazy stuff. Meant I didn't have to explain where I lived for a change.

I made my cookies and I gots pics of the resulting goo but I canna be arsed uploading them tonight so mehr laters.

Qu'est ce qu'il fait? Qu'est ce qu'il dit?

Once again my attempts at bowler hat purchasing have been foiled. Having nigh on 3 hours to kill I walked back to the previously mentioned vintage shoppe, money in hand and an excited spring in my step. Maybe, just maybe one of them would fit me since after all men were smaller back then (giggle giggle wang joke). Full of double mocha macchiato (best coffee evar) and slowly coming the realisation that my tights were falling down and if something wasn't done soon it would be penguin-walk time, I finally arrived at Great Western Road. I past the many indian takeaways, past the 'what the? that's a lotta brooms!' shop and quickly past the crazy kinda goth, kinda just weird shop in case I got lured in and bought something stupid like an elvis lamp. I dodged the energetic, soap flinging window cleaner and the aggresive little Chinese woman (I don't know what she wanted) skipped across the road...and carried on with a heavy heart. Shop was shut. For no reason at all.

I got over my disappointment though with coffee and a good chat with the loveliest girl in the world which is kinda a lie since I'm still annoyed but I always like seeing her. And then there was more signing up for classes. Gahr it was dull. So many different ways of saying 'University is different from school' and 'STUDY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD'. Pleargh boring. On the plus side the Classics teacher has one of those old-fashioned professor capes and the classics society has a toga party. Always good for a laugh. My class is in the only remaining preserved Victorian lecture hall in the uni. Let me tell you it is also the most uncomfortable. Gorgeous but needs more cushioning! It's like sitting in an old church but without the holiness.

I met my Edinburgh friend, or rather she kept finding me like the stalker she is! The Hare Krishna woman who preys on the young in Glasgow interrupted us and was met by very quiet rambling French. Sadly she claimed she could speak it too. We just left and tried to look like annoyed French people. Lesson learned. Next time learn some Russian!