I had a lovely weekend. It began on Friday night when Z, D, and I went for dinner, ice cream, and a showing of Meet the Fockers, which had us in stitches ('he's been Fockerised!' Quality). As it was a late show we were too knackered to go for drinks so we accompanied Z to the tube station. D and I then spent the rest of the night wandering round Soho, slipping into dark alleyways and scoping out possible bars to visit on my birthday party in two weeks' time.
Saturday was, for the most part, a domestic sort of day - I hadn't cleaned in two weeks and gave the flat a good scrubbing until the floors shone and everything smelled pretty. Around dinnertime D and I took the tube to Leicester Square, joining F in his office which overlooks the cinemas and main square. There we had a very productive Forecasting revision session, stopping only to have dinner at 23:15 at a Japanese restaurant a stone's throw away in Soho. It was delicious. We slipped back into the office and worked there till 2 a.m. D and I barely exchanged any words on the walk home - the hordes of partygoers we had to wade through were enough to silence us, and we were dead tired. I finally got to bed at 4.
I had a lovely, long lie in this morning, getting up at noon. I saw D again today, this time to work on Actuarial Science. I think I've had enough of work and yet I feel like I haven't done nearly enough. Well, back to it I guess - no rest for the wicked indeed.
soul searching
Am I getting stupider by the day, or what? (Don't answer that.) Last night I unknowingly set my alarm for 8:30 (pm - such a clever thing to do), and only managed to make it to my thesis meeting because someone had texted me this morning, thus waking me up. At that moment I had grumpily thought 'What idiot could possibly be texting me
this early in the morning?!' Then I had a good long stare at the clock, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and realised that it was actually 09:37 and I had exactly 23 minutes to get dressed, eat breakfast, and get my arse over to the meeting. I made it in time - thanks to that text.
I did not get very much sleep last night, because I was doing a lot of thinking. I realised many things, above all that
I can do better. It takes two to tango, and I had put far more into a potential relationship than the other person deserved. Relationships might take work but they should not have to require the amount of effort that I exhausted myself putting in. Like so many people were trying to tell me - he simply happened to be at the right place in the right time, filling a temporary void in my life. Finding out what I found out alleviated most, if not all, of my stress related to the matter. I hope he's well, I do not regret what happened, and if he should come to his senses - well, it is in my nature to be forgiving. But my part in this is truly over. And when I did fall asleep last night, I was finally happy.
Tonight my friends and I are meeting for dinner and a showing of Meet the Fockers (we could all do with some comic relief at the moment, however crass and silly it might be). Following that - a tipple or two to celebrate D's last round of job interviews. I'm looking forward to tonight. I've needed this for a long, long time.
written in the stars
My mum always used to say that people who read (and believe) in horoscopes have nothing better or more solidly grounded to believe in. Well, let's hope my mum isn't reading this, because she'd be disappointed to know that her daughter has been rather obsessively consulting the wisdom of dodgy astrologists as of late.
On Sunday, my horoscope said this:
At the risk of sounding simplistic, try to lighten up a tad. Moreover, during the next week, every time you er, err on the side of 'where there's a will there's a way-ism' instead of hauling out your trusty rule book and lifestyle or self-help manual and drawing the relevant party's attention to subsection (iii), you'll be handsomely rewarded.
Today, my horoscope said this:
Something is watching over you. You are hard pressed to believe this with all the complications that you have had to face in recent times. Maintain an open mind and a high degree of enthusiasm. Do not take your vicissitudes too seriously.
My enthusiasm - or rather, feigned enthusiasm (it's all smiles and business, really) - is about to swallow me from the inside out. The difficulties I've faced in the past month are getting to be borderline ridiculous. As for the rest of the horoscope - strangely enough, I've been told rather similar things over the past week or so, and the words 'where there's a will there's a way' have never been that far from my mind either. What's supposedly written in the stars seems to fit rather snugly into the goings-on of my life. This all seems rather...erm...
coincidental. But then again, so does just about everything else in my life.
Coincidence. I'm really beginning to detest that word.
high rotation
On constant repeat on my iPod:
I have never liked Bjork. But her debut album - creatively titled
Debut - phenomenal.
A song like
Hidden Houses can only be sung by someone like Dave Gahan. Quite simply one of the most hauntingly beautiful melodies I've heard in a while.
I can count the number of North American artists I listen to on one hand, and Interpol are one of them. The lead singer spent most of his life in London though - figures. A must hear:
Evil.
My favourite album right now?
Kasabian's self-titled debut. Tense and aggressive - great songs for punching people to. (Oh, and head-nodding moodily to at indie clubs.)
If punching people isn't really your thing, then Massive Attack's sexy
Risingson would form the perfect backdrop to many other unmentionable activities.
If you've not heard of Mylo and his brilliant album
Destroy Rock'n'Roll, you will soon. 2005 is going to be a big year for this talented Scottish DJ, methinks.
The track I'm
still listening to? New Order's
Thieves Like Us. Quality.
...And why on earth did I not discover the
Stone Roses' debut album earlier?!
Life would not be complete without some heartfelt alt/indie guitar rock - hence
The Invitation by Thirteen Senses. Gorgeous, and it recently moved me to tears.
Beaucoup Fish by Underworld gets the award for the album with the most non-sensical lyrics - not that this matters on an album this brilliant, of course.
What have
you been listening to?
This is the first weekend in nearly four weeks during which I've done a decent job of not wallowing in self-pity and moping about. I haven't been shopping in ages - a proper, multi-hour session of debit card abuse - and today finally felt up for it. The sales are still on, miraculously, but I think I have developed an unhealthy obsession with Diesel jeans - once you wear Diesel, you simply cannot wear anything else.
I've just about recovered from Thursday night although I'm still terribly knackered (the highest-order mathematics I could do today was adding two prices together and nearly fainting at their sum). I am in the process of switching e-mail addresses and look forward to informing everyone of my new home on the internet (but don't get all excited - it's really not that different from my old address. New year, new everything etc). My washer-dryer is currently gurgling as it's being filled up with water and soap suds. The scent of Fairy washing powder is lovely and comforting. My new jeans are in the wash. I like quiet weekends in.
My friends and I are starting to realise that we no longer have all that much time together anymore - the realisation that final exams are four months away and the thought of graduation looming ahead is actually rather frightening. Although we've always been a close knit group, we never did start socialising
properly until the end of second year. First year saw us testing the waters, trying to establish as many contacts as we could possibly fit on our mobile address books, and not really developing anything deeper than that. I personally was preoccupied with my now ex-boyfriend which didn't leave much time for anything else. In second year we nearly drowned in work, I went through a difficult breakup, and was not getting on with my flatmate (Fat Cow) - second year was hell to say the least. But now, in our final year, our timetables couldn't be better, and we are finally getting to know each other the way we ought to have done two years ago.
Bloody hell. It's already been two years? Didn't I just get here...yesterday?
Last night was quite spectacular, although I don’t remember very much of it. We started off at the university union bar before heading over to the restaurant. Loads of fun. The details are fuzzy.
Afterwards we stumbled over to The Court, which is a local student pub, and remained there till we effectively could no longer stand up straight. How many rounds did we have? I lost count, but I knew that I was even drunker than I was on new year’s eve, if that’s possible. Now whose clever idea it was to have this event on a weeknight, I do not know. I could not fall asleep afterwards – I effectively lay there for over six hours with my eyes half-closed, nursing a splitting headache and trying to convince myself that the room was not actually spinning, even though the floor seemed to be moving in one direction and the walls in another. Quite disconcerting, actually.
I now know that what happened on new year’s eve meant absolutely nothing. (To be fair, it
might have meant something but I’m not going to waste time figuring which bits did or did not.) Maybe it’s been awhile since I’ve gone out so frequently and experienced what alcohol does to your judgement or inhibition. But I do know this - it certainly meant very little.
in the manner of drinking
It has been awhile since I last had coffee. I don't like the taste of it, and I can't stand the very image of prancing into my local Starbucks like a complete yuppie (Starbucks, in my mind, is highly correlated with yuppiedom). I prefer tea. Actually, no - I prefer alcohol.
Living in a country where drinking is a widely accepted (and practised) national sport, I have admittedly become something of an alcoholic. This is not to say that I spend all of my spare time down the pub, but when I go out, I enjoy drinking. I can drink most of my male friends under the table, and most of them drink like fishes. I have been fortunate in that my hangovers haven't been all that horrendous so far, but what I really find quite disgusting is being sick after drinking. That, luckily, has not happened thus far, and would be rather dreadful, to say the least.
Tonight we are having a massive drinks and dinner marathon - although it being only Thursday night does raise cause for concern. That, and I'm already quite worryingly 'wired', after having consumed over three cups of coffee from Starbucks this morning (yes, go ahead and call me a yuppie) in an attempt to ensure that I didn't fall into a deep slumber whilst sitting my Computing exam this morning. It worked.
On a completely different topic, those of you who have been following my tumultuous love life ought to be relieved to know that when I woke up this morning, somehow magically, the physical had managed to separate from the emotional. (And it has taken an astounding 20 days for this to occur.) I still have hope for him, but I am no longer going to wait. Just like it takes two to tango, two can also play this game. The ball's in his court. If he doesn't make a move, then I'd be tempted to make a comment in about two weeks' time about 'balls' in a different sense, or lack thereof, if you know what I mean.
Time to paint the town red.
action packed
Bugger. I'm knackered.
- Monday was drinks and dinner with White Teeth D;
- Today was a late night meet up with Z;
- Tomorrow will be lunch with A, A, C, and M;
- Thursday will be a massive drinks and dinner with 15+ friends; and
- Friday will be hangover recovery.
I feel better. I'm so thankful for my friends at times like these. Who the hell needs boyfriends when you've got the best support system in the world? Thank you so much for your patience and words of wisdom over the past while - I truly appreciate it. I am slowly returning to normalcy, and although I can't guarantee that it won't be a bumpy ride, I'll be back to normal one of these days. I promise.
in dreams
Last night was very odd and emotional. Unless a miracle occurs, I suspect that this weekend could be just as soul destroying as the last one, perhaps more so. My dad rang, but because of my funk, I responded in monosyllables, ending the conversation in near silence, with a discernible lump growing at the back of my throat. My pillowcase proved adequate in soaking up my tears, and I fell into an uneasy, restless sleep at 22:00.
I don't usually dream. If I do, the dream is either indescribably strange, or so realistic that every memory of it is gone by morning. But my dreams do have one thing in common - they all draw upon things ingrained so deeply in my subconscious, bringing them to such vivid light that sometimes following the most realistic dream, I wake up completely incapable of distinguishing between life and dream. Last night, I dreamt five times, waking up briefly in between each. I do not remember any of them, save one.
I was taking a bus to Japan. I was going to be there for at least two months without friends or family. My parents drove me to the coach station, and as our car drove by the platform, life rolled by in slow motion. I caught glimpses of the others I'd be travelling with. Some were old, most were young. They all looked as if they had spent their whole lives looking for a place in which they could belong, but were still endlessly searching for it.
There was no car park so my dad waited in the car whilst mum helped me to the platform with my baggage. I then had to say goodbye to my father. He opened the front car door, whilst looking straight ahead. I didn't need to look directly at him to know that his eyes were red and filled with tears. I remember the smell of his shirt as I leaned in and embraced him; I remember with crystalline clarity the way in which he responded 'I'll miss you too'. At that point, I awoke with a start, not knowing what time or place I was in, not knowing if my sheets and pillows were tangible, or simply part of my imagination. The only reality I could be certain of was the tears sliding at full force down my face, the only warmth in an otherwise cold and silent morning.
easy peasy lemon squeezy
You know the drill - pick 12 movies you like, pick a line or two from each film, guess the film. Go go go:
1>
With all due respect, sir, I believe this is going to be our finest hour. [Apollo 13]
2>
Englishmen don't know what a tongue is for. [Braveheart]
3>
Luck favors the prepared. [The Incredibles]
4>
We don't discuss business at the table. [The Godfather]
5>
I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to a divorce. [Apocalypse Now]
6>
I think it's better to break a man's leg than his heart. [Seabiscuit]
7>
Let's never come here again because it will never be as much fun. [Lost In Translation]
8>
End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path - one that we all must take. [Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King]
9>
It's there, I know it is, because when I look at you, I can feel it. And-and I look at you, and I... and I'm home. [Finding Nemo]
10>
You should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity. [Snatch]
11>
You don't need proof when you have instinct. [Reservoir Dogs]
12>
Hey, you wanna hear my philosophy of life? Do it to him before he does it to you. [On the Waterfront]
ipod shuffle
The latest member of the phenomenally successful Apple iPod family was revealed yesterday - the size of a bubble gum package, weighing less than an ounce, and with a 0.5GB-1 GB capacity.
What gets me about the iPod Shuffle is not really any of its features, or its appearance (and dare I say that I think it's the iPod/iPod Photo's ugly little brother). It's
this. Scroll down to the very bottom and read the small print. It made me giggle.
colours exploding etc part 2
Today, everyone (and their respective mobile phones) went insane. Totally, completely, and collectively mad (including me, admittedly). Bloody, good-for-nothing technology.
For those interested in living their lives vicariously through mine - Tongue got in touch.
After a terribly shitty weekend, I was pleasantly surprised this morning when the postman rang up with a large packet for me.
About a month ago (being the pedantic creature I am), I had sent an e-mail to the webmaster at the official
Depeche Mode website, because I'd noticed a wee spelling error in one of the song lyrics.
I received no response and thought nothing of it, until a few days ago when he e-mailed me and said that he had thrown in that 'typo' a few years ago to see if anyone would actually catch it. Nobody did - until now. He was astounded that it would have taken years, asked me for my mailing address, and informed me that I had won a Depeche Mode prize!
The goodies I received this morning:
- Dave Gahan Bottle Living/Hold On CD
- Depeche Mode Dream On Promo CD
- Dave Gahan Bottle Living Promo CD
- Depeche Mode Dream On promo sticker
- Depeche Mode Exciter promo sticker
- Depeche Mode Exciter Tour promo postcard
- Dave Gahan Bottle Living Limited Edition Collectors Wallet
- Depeche Mode Ultra promo poster
Thank you, Daniel Barassi, for making my day.
new years resolutions
This list only barely covers what I ought to change about myself. But it's a start, and the rest of it can obviously wait till next year...
- Procrastinate less
- Drink more water
- Eat more leafy green vegetables
- Buy fewer crayfish + rocket sandwiches from Pret a Manger, and make more crayfish + rocket sandwiches myself
- Spend less money on frivolous things (scented ballpoint pens, magazines that encourage frivolous spending, packaged facial wipes, French lounge CDs etc)
- Wear less black
- Reply to e-mails sooner
- And on that note, two words: less internet
- Send fewer text messages and make more actual phone calls
- Ring my grandmother more often
- Continue trying something new each week
- Resist the urge to overanalyse, particularly whilst dealing with
strange creatures men - Read the Financial Times and The Economist more often
- Not care so much as to what others might be thinking
- Avoid tendency to let eyes glaze over during boring, sleep-inducing bits of Statistical Inference
- Accept the fact that strange, flowy capes will have to be worn to formal dinners at Oxford University
- Eliminate unbecoming words from vocabulary (‘like’, ‘whatever’, ‘cool’, ‘oh my God’, 'anyways', 'you know', etc.)
- Develop more of a ‘green thumb’ and decrease the number of houseplants murdered
A and I went for dinner yesterday. It was nice, except for the embarrassing moment when we were being taken to our table and I had to squeeze past the adjacent diners to get to my seat. In doing so, the back of my handbag knocked over their bottle of wine, causing some of it to spill onto the man's lap. I apologised profusely and offered to get them another bottle, but they assured me that it was fine. Later that evening, the same man accidentally knocked over his own wine glass, spilling wine over himself yet again, cursing under his breath and muttering that it has not been a good week. He did not look pleased. I felt like leaning over and saying, 'If it makes you feel any better, I'm not having the most brilliant week either'.
My brain decided to take a holiday this morning, so I took the opportunity to go shopping. What a lovely time it is to go shopping, now that workers are once again confined to their cubicles, Russian tourists have gone home (thankfully), and students are slowly starting to realise that it might be best to stay in and sleep off their hangovers. Most items were still 50% off, there were no queues, and there were still itty-bitty sizes left. I am now the proud owner of a pair of Diesel jeans (one can never have too many) - in the Hush DS fit, with the most gorgeous wash ever. Very sexy. And for half price? Even better.
Now is not clearly not a brilliant time to have as vivid an imagination as mine.
oh no! colours might be exploding!
I have been known for going on in vague, arm-wavy ways about how my last relationship has made me that much 'stronger', etc etc. However, it clearly hasn't yet turned my heart into steel, and admittedly I really am still a softie. After that little incident on new years eve, I've certainly been acting like it. Bah. Men. They do terrible things to the female psyche. I cannot stand overanalysing, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what I've been doing for the past three days. I need to start thinking like a man. Today, as AJ informed me - 'Lady, you're being such a woman!' So I decided to get a man's take on the situation. (Edited and censored - young children read this blog.)
Keith says:
and it seems you had a great NYE as well
Keith says:
so...any pics? who's the lucky cheeky bugger? ;P
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
Oh God
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
I need your advice...and am about to pull out my hair
(Happiest Girl says: Blah blah blah.)
Keith says:
right. find someone who looks exactly like your ex. shag him. and move on.
(Note: my ex is ugly. Love really is blind. Moving on.)
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
Erm...ok. There's this bloke. *Sigh*
(More nonsense follows.)
Keith says:
so far this all sounds good...
(More neurotic, womanly observations on love and life follow.)
Keith says:
so far this all sounds good...
(Yadda yadda.)
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
So this is where it all starts getting wonky and stupid.
(etc etc.)
Keith says:
okay...first things first. it takes two to tango. you're a sharp kid. you were definitely sending him signals. secondly...relationships start in myriad ways. dont pigeonhold the relationship ideal into some statistical possibility
(Keith is a genius. More blah blah blahing from Happiest Girl.)
Keith says:
the ball is in his court. you get to sit back now and see what happens...which is pins and needles for you i'm sure...but nothing to worry about.
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
I mean, ok, women think of it this way - if a guy is interested enough, he'll do anything to get in touch. Is that true? And what does it mean if they don't? (Edit: a legitimate question.)
Keith says:
he did get in touch. he borrowed a freinds phone to do it...that means he had to tell his friend about you. both are good signs
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
'Hey mate, can I borrow your phone, there's a pesky girl I need to text back'
Keith says:
aw...it's an impossible equation. unknown answer. infinite formulas. you've too great an imagination to even worry about it. you'll drive yourself mental.
Keith says:
if he's interested he'll contact you
Keith says:
if he isnt interested, then i'd say he's gay
Keith says:
or maybe castrated
Keith says:
and possibly deluded
(Every woman needs a Keith.)
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
I've got a photo
Keith says:
where's the drool emoticon? send it along woman!
Keith says:
who's the lucky bastard?!
Keith says:
give him until thursday to contact you....if he hasnt by then...i dont see any harm in calling him to see what's up. just be ready to move a bit slower than you did on new years if it comes to that. if he contacts you before thursday then proceed as if he's smitten with you
Transfer of "Picture 249.jpg" is complete.
Keith says:
you guys look great. he's cute.
(More non-sensical wallowing in self-pity by Happiest Girl, followed by several unmentionable comments made by Keith.)
Keith says:
how about we call him mr. tongue (Edit: don't ask. Please.)
close your eyes and reinvent me says:
Don't you dare!!
Keith says:
if i was Tongue i'd be calling/visiting you on monday when term starts. search you out at shcool and ask you out for coffee/pint/buy a raincoat or whatever it is londoners do
(Happiest Girl says: 'Blah blah blah, whinge whinge whinge, whine whine whine'.)
Keith says:
exciting times! i see colours exploding in your future!
...Or dancing in my hand s. Sigh. I could do with some more alcohol right now, and definitely a tranquiliser.
hello 2005
Happy new year, everyone.
To call new years eve 'fun' would be an understatement. A group of us met for pre-dinner drinks, which turned out to be a largely unsuccessful affair as bars were charging obscene £15 cover fees. (Instead we ended up at an unassuming, quiet pub filled with drunk old men.) Dinner was lovely - definitely the sexiest, most atmospheric restaurant we have ever been to. We had a round of cocktails at the bar, and by the time we had decided on a bottle of dinner wine it was already 23:06, so our far-fetched idea of making it to the river in time to catch the fireworks was altogether dispelled. At the end of the meal we were suitably tipsy, and remained at the restaurant till past 2 a.m. I'm not sure whose clever idea it was to play spin the bottle (rather, spin the wine glass), but it did include some rather scandalous behaviour of which there exists photographic evidence - coming soon to a Statistical Science common room near you, no doubt.
We did manage to stumble over to the riverside nonetheless, to enjoy the sights and join the other revellers in a state of collective drunkenness. There was this one bloke - a friend of a friend - who had spent the evening with us, and we got on very well. At 5 a.m. he walked me home, and I will say little else except that he gave me an extremely memorable farewell (not to mention his mobile number), right in the middle of the pavement on a deserted street. Cheeky bugger.
