So. If there is something I have learned in life, it's that whining on my blog solves bureaucratic red-tape issues within a few days. Remember the passport issues? I blog about it and a few days later things work out. I blog about the job interview shit, and a few days later it works itself out.... If only my love life worked that way...
I received a phone call from the Honorary Consulate up in Edinburgh today, and they were more than happy to accommodate me. This means that my job interview is on Friday at 3 p.m. British time (8 a.m. Edmonton time). In Edinburgh. I just booked my train tickets. Luckily there were a few Saver Return tickets left, and so I'm not totally broke now (45 quid return! yay! That'd be about 90 bucks Canadian, in case anyone's interested).
They've now had the gall to tell me, though, that I might miss this selection round and have to wait until the next one since I won't be coming back to Canada until mid-October.
And they WON'T pay my travel costs. Stupid government. Or my cell phone bill. Bastards. But whatever. The pay's decent and the benefits are nice. And the job itself ain't half bad.
So I'm heading up on Friday morning and coming back on Friday night. After my interview I may try and find the B&B where I'm staying next weekend when I head up for the Tattoo...
So, wish me luck, folks!
I received a phone call from the Honorary Consulate up in Edinburgh today, and they were more than happy to accommodate me. This means that my job interview is on Friday at 3 p.m. British time (8 a.m. Edmonton time). In Edinburgh. I just booked my train tickets. Luckily there were a few Saver Return tickets left, and so I'm not totally broke now (45 quid return! yay! That'd be about 90 bucks Canadian, in case anyone's interested).
They've now had the gall to tell me, though, that I might miss this selection round and have to wait until the next one since I won't be coming back to Canada until mid-October.
And they WON'T pay my travel costs. Stupid government. Or my cell phone bill. Bastards. But whatever. The pay's decent and the benefits are nice. And the job itself ain't half bad.
So I'm heading up on Friday morning and coming back on Friday night. After my interview I may try and find the B&B where I'm staying next weekend when I head up for the Tattoo...
So, wish me luck, folks!
So I got an email from the lovely folks at the government department for which I applied to work. Finally! Considering my interview was supposed to be LAST week, and this week is almost over... It basically said "Hi, Kate, we'd like to call you - is there an embassy or something nearby where you can go? We want the interview to be next week"
To which I replied, "Sure, there's Canadian High Commissions in London, Edinburgh and Birmingham, and it's about equally easy for me to get to any of those. But if you want, you can just call my mobile." And I gave them my phone number.
"That's great, Kate, but we need someone to confirm your identity, so can you make arrangments with the High Commission and get back to us with the number we'll need to call you at?"
So I called the High Commissions down in London. After much on-hold-ing and being passed back and forth (I was initially sent to the department for which the job interview will be, then to consular offices, who decided that since I didn't cause an international incident, they didn't want to deal with me, then back to the department in question), it was decided that London didn't want to have to start IDing random interview candidates and so they basically emailed the folks in Canada and politely told them to F off. I'm still waiting to hear Canada's reaction to this one.
This seems to be particularly problematic.
Edinburgh and Birmingham are just Honorary Consulates, so I'm not sure what facilities they have, and if LONDON isn't willing to accommodate me...
But that's just the start: what if I'd just given the folks back in Canada my land line number (which, ironically, is less reliable than my mobile in terms of connection quality when dealing with transatlantic calls) and gotten a friend to be the 'consular official'? Seriously, ANYONE could have taken the interview for me, and the lovely folks in Canada would have no way of knowing. Surely they should have arranged with one of the offices in London in advance and told ME where to be and when, and that I would need to take ID. I'm not their HR girl. Maybe if I was being paid by the government for any of my expenses in this matter, I'd feel differently, but right now I shudder at what a last-minute train ticket down to London or up to Edinburgh is going to cost me, knowing that there will be no reimbursement... not to mention the credit I've used up on my mobile making all these calls...
I'm now stuck, since my contact in Canada is out of the office until Monday. How great is that - 'let us know where to call you, but I'm not going to get your email until Monday anyway'. So that leaves me all weekend to agonize over this.
I don't know whether to start studying for this interview or not, since I have no idea when or where it would be. And I don't need my brain to be full of that for any longer than a couple of days - otherwise I need to be thinking about death and blood and burning.
Not to mention that the appeals process for competitions has changed, so if I don't get the job I can't even whine about what a shitty process the competition was, how badly organized, and how many loopholes there were.
My mother (who happens to work for the department in question) has offered to intervene and ask London again for me. I asked her not to, though, as I don't want to be seen whining to my mother (I will gladly whine to her in private, but I don't need her meddling in this). That would look really great, wouldn't it? The responsible, mature, self-starter's MOTHER had to arrange her job interview.
Oh, and my supervisor mostly liked my draft of my dissertation, so at least that's one thing to worry less about.
I Am Reading
Academically: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And it's great! (Although I'll have to start editing soon...)
For Fun: Suite Française (Irène Nemirovsky) - I copped out, I'm reading the English translation.
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 8 - Mostly unread, but skimmed for pertinent information.
To which I replied, "Sure, there's Canadian High Commissions in London, Edinburgh and Birmingham, and it's about equally easy for me to get to any of those. But if you want, you can just call my mobile." And I gave them my phone number.
"That's great, Kate, but we need someone to confirm your identity, so can you make arrangments with the High Commission and get back to us with the number we'll need to call you at?"
So I called the High Commissions down in London. After much on-hold-ing and being passed back and forth (I was initially sent to the department for which the job interview will be, then to consular offices, who decided that since I didn't cause an international incident, they didn't want to deal with me, then back to the department in question), it was decided that London didn't want to have to start IDing random interview candidates and so they basically emailed the folks in Canada and politely told them to F off. I'm still waiting to hear Canada's reaction to this one.
This seems to be particularly problematic.
Edinburgh and Birmingham are just Honorary Consulates, so I'm not sure what facilities they have, and if LONDON isn't willing to accommodate me...
But that's just the start: what if I'd just given the folks back in Canada my land line number (which, ironically, is less reliable than my mobile in terms of connection quality when dealing with transatlantic calls) and gotten a friend to be the 'consular official'? Seriously, ANYONE could have taken the interview for me, and the lovely folks in Canada would have no way of knowing. Surely they should have arranged with one of the offices in London in advance and told ME where to be and when, and that I would need to take ID. I'm not their HR girl. Maybe if I was being paid by the government for any of my expenses in this matter, I'd feel differently, but right now I shudder at what a last-minute train ticket down to London or up to Edinburgh is going to cost me, knowing that there will be no reimbursement... not to mention the credit I've used up on my mobile making all these calls...
I'm now stuck, since my contact in Canada is out of the office until Monday. How great is that - 'let us know where to call you, but I'm not going to get your email until Monday anyway'. So that leaves me all weekend to agonize over this.
I don't know whether to start studying for this interview or not, since I have no idea when or where it would be. And I don't need my brain to be full of that for any longer than a couple of days - otherwise I need to be thinking about death and blood and burning.
Not to mention that the appeals process for competitions has changed, so if I don't get the job I can't even whine about what a shitty process the competition was, how badly organized, and how many loopholes there were.
My mother (who happens to work for the department in question) has offered to intervene and ask London again for me. I asked her not to, though, as I don't want to be seen whining to my mother (I will gladly whine to her in private, but I don't need her meddling in this). That would look really great, wouldn't it? The responsible, mature, self-starter's MOTHER had to arrange her job interview.
Oh, and my supervisor mostly liked my draft of my dissertation, so at least that's one thing to worry less about.
I Am Reading
Academically: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And it's great! (Although I'll have to start editing soon...)
For Fun: Suite Française (Irène Nemirovsky) - I copped out, I'm reading the English translation.
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 8 - Mostly unread, but skimmed for pertinent information.
So I'm currently in the library here at uni. The library. Yup. That place where people are supposed to be relatively quiet and let you get work done uninterrupted (although my productivity level has gone down quite a bit in the last month since I set up my laptop to get the wireless internet in here, but that's another story). I say "supposed" to be relatively quiet because the porters and other random staff that I've never seen before are erecting some strange book-shelf oddity that is the strangest thing I've ever laid eyes on, and they're NOT doing it quietly. These things are made of metal, and there's this constant clang and bash and them talking to each other (not even whispering) and I'm slowly getting a headache. So I've given up on work for a bit and am actually writing this post now. Brilliant.
I got a package in the mail the other day. I knew it was coming and have been eagerly anticipating it for a while, even though I didn't know what its contents were. It turned out to be awesome. Thanks to Llewellyn (link on the sidebar, I'm too lazy to link it here, and besides, she hasn't written anything in a month... too busy, which I totally understand, but it would be nice to get an update now and then, I mean, geez...) I am now the proud owner of a mini magic wand key chain and an awesomely cool Gryffindor scarf (yup, geek I am). Llewellyn, you rock, and I'm going to have to do this 'unbirthday' thing more often.
I also made the mistake of downloading the game Aveyond from Big Fish games this weekend. Downloading games from Big Fish is a regular occurrence in my life, as I download them, play 60 minutes, my free trial runs out, and then I uninstall, usually feeling like I've actually already pretty much beaten the game, or that I've played the game before, with a slightly different colour scheme. Aveyond, however, was different. It's an old-school 2D RPG - think, like, Legend of Zelda for the ORIGINAL Nintendo, with slightly better, more detailed graphics. And I played the damn thing for those 60 minutes, and HOLY CRAP!!!! I was nowhere NEAR beating the game... so I forked over the money for the full version. I don't regret it for a second. I have played for nearly 15 hours since Friday (yeah, I know, how sad is that) and am STILL nowhere near beating the game. It's repetitive, and takes forever for your power to go up a level, but there's a story, and characters and... and... Yup, I'm addicted. Oops. Ah well. Good thing my first draft is pretty much done and on its way to my supervisor.
I got a package in the mail the other day. I knew it was coming and have been eagerly anticipating it for a while, even though I didn't know what its contents were. It turned out to be awesome. Thanks to Llewellyn (link on the sidebar, I'm too lazy to link it here, and besides, she hasn't written anything in a month... too busy, which I totally understand, but it would be nice to get an update now and then, I mean, geez...) I am now the proud owner of a mini magic wand key chain and an awesomely cool Gryffindor scarf (yup, geek I am). Llewellyn, you rock, and I'm going to have to do this 'unbirthday' thing more often.
I also made the mistake of downloading the game Aveyond from Big Fish games this weekend. Downloading games from Big Fish is a regular occurrence in my life, as I download them, play 60 minutes, my free trial runs out, and then I uninstall, usually feeling like I've actually already pretty much beaten the game, or that I've played the game before, with a slightly different colour scheme. Aveyond, however, was different. It's an old-school 2D RPG - think, like, Legend of Zelda for the ORIGINAL Nintendo, with slightly better, more detailed graphics. And I played the damn thing for those 60 minutes, and HOLY CRAP!!!! I was nowhere NEAR beating the game... so I forked over the money for the full version. I don't regret it for a second. I have played for nearly 15 hours since Friday (yeah, I know, how sad is that) and am STILL nowhere near beating the game. It's repetitive, and takes forever for your power to go up a level, but there's a story, and characters and... and... Yup, I'm addicted. Oops. Ah well. Good thing my first draft is pretty much done and on its way to my supervisor.
So there's a small child crying outside my window. Probably 2 years old-ish.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? I live on a University campus. In study bedroom flats. There is NO REASON for a small child to be here, crying outside my window, disturbing my work (or lack thereof, I've been unbelievably unproductive today...). And this isn't the first time. It's been happening at least once a day for about a week now. If those parents can't shut their child up, they should get it the hell away from the rest of us who are all here trying to do work. What was the University thinking letting a family with a small child like that move into the studio flats in this block? Christ. I sure as hell didn't want to give up my summer, many thousand pounds tuition and a few thousand pounds for the privilege of living in this tiny little room to be here to work on my dissertation, so I'd like to actually have a decent atmosphere in which to do it.
Did I mention I don't particularly like children anyway, so crying children make me want to throttle something?
So what else is new in my life... not one hell of a lot. The sunburn from a few posts back is now peeling... which is great, if you're into that sexy dead-snakeskin-type look... My hangover still, three sleeps later, doesn't seem to have entirely gone away, so I'm praying that I'm not actually getting sick at all. That'd be the last thing I need right now, especially after the illness in Paris...
Dissertation is going well-ish. I need about 3700 more words, but I've run out of things to say. Unless anyone knows what the symbolism behind burning heretics is - so far I've found out that it's a derivation of old Roman law, but that doesn't tell me WHY Christians used that particular form of execution for heretics. Anyone? Anyone? Yeah, I didn't think so. I'm not having any luck, my supervisor isn't having any luck... The Catholic Encylopedia was no help... Very frustrated.
Oh, there was a thunderstorm this morning at about 2. It was great - thunder, lightening, everything. These are pretty rare over here, you're more likely to just get a bunch of rain spread out over the day, and the occasional nasty 20-minute downpour... For a while it felt like I was back home, sleeping through an Alberta thunderstorm...
I Am Reading
Academically: Rifling through "Medieval Heresy" by Lambert in the hope I'll answer the burning question... hahaha... burning question... I'm punny...
For Fun: Innocent Traitor (Alison Weir)
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 7 - 2 read, 1 half-read, 2 flipped-through, 2 unread.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? I live on a University campus. In study bedroom flats. There is NO REASON for a small child to be here, crying outside my window, disturbing my work (or lack thereof, I've been unbelievably unproductive today...). And this isn't the first time. It's been happening at least once a day for about a week now. If those parents can't shut their child up, they should get it the hell away from the rest of us who are all here trying to do work. What was the University thinking letting a family with a small child like that move into the studio flats in this block? Christ. I sure as hell didn't want to give up my summer, many thousand pounds tuition and a few thousand pounds for the privilege of living in this tiny little room to be here to work on my dissertation, so I'd like to actually have a decent atmosphere in which to do it.
Did I mention I don't particularly like children anyway, so crying children make me want to throttle something?
So what else is new in my life... not one hell of a lot. The sunburn from a few posts back is now peeling... which is great, if you're into that sexy dead-snakeskin-type look... My hangover still, three sleeps later, doesn't seem to have entirely gone away, so I'm praying that I'm not actually getting sick at all. That'd be the last thing I need right now, especially after the illness in Paris...
Dissertation is going well-ish. I need about 3700 more words, but I've run out of things to say. Unless anyone knows what the symbolism behind burning heretics is - so far I've found out that it's a derivation of old Roman law, but that doesn't tell me WHY Christians used that particular form of execution for heretics. Anyone? Anyone? Yeah, I didn't think so. I'm not having any luck, my supervisor isn't having any luck... The Catholic Encylopedia was no help... Very frustrated.
Oh, there was a thunderstorm this morning at about 2. It was great - thunder, lightening, everything. These are pretty rare over here, you're more likely to just get a bunch of rain spread out over the day, and the occasional nasty 20-minute downpour... For a while it felt like I was back home, sleeping through an Alberta thunderstorm...
I Am Reading
Academically: Rifling through "Medieval Heresy" by Lambert in the hope I'll answer the burning question... hahaha... burning question... I'm punny...
For Fun: Innocent Traitor (Alison Weir)
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 7 - 2 read, 1 half-read, 2 flipped-through, 2 unread.
Yup, that's right. Smoking makes me sick.
I'm not a frequent smoker. The urge to smoke is usually brought on by stress, which I'm usually able to suppress, unless you get some booze into me as well. (I blame it on my parents. They both smoked when I was a kid... and then there' s just the act of having a cigarette - heading outside, lighting up, and just not thinking about the shit going on around you for a few minutes...).
Enter the Evil Eye Lounge and a few yummy and delicious cocktails. Spread out over four hours. Granted, there was fair bit of actual alcohol in each cocktail, but nothing that should have knocked me on my ass like it did this morning.
This has led me to the conclusion that when I drink AND smoke, I'm much more ill the next day. Like, throwing up ill. The last time I threw up after drinking was after a Fort party, where, *gasp, surprise*, I'd been smoking.
Is it possible to have a nicotine hangover? 'Cuz I think I've got one... Although having come and spent several hours at the library with a bottle of water and my dissertation and I'm feeling much better. Now to get some food into me... lunch time!
I Am Reading
Academically: A friend's comments on my dissertation, alongside my own dissertation. It's so handy to have friends that are experts in fields related to your own. I love the Rev. Dr. Ruth Gouldbourne at this point in time!
For Fun: Still slogging away at the adventures of Hester Prynne and the Rev. Mr. Dimmesdale
Pile of Books on My Windowsill: No change. I should probably get to those...
I'm not a frequent smoker. The urge to smoke is usually brought on by stress, which I'm usually able to suppress, unless you get some booze into me as well. (I blame it on my parents. They both smoked when I was a kid... and then there' s just the act of having a cigarette - heading outside, lighting up, and just not thinking about the shit going on around you for a few minutes...).
Enter the Evil Eye Lounge and a few yummy and delicious cocktails. Spread out over four hours. Granted, there was fair bit of actual alcohol in each cocktail, but nothing that should have knocked me on my ass like it did this morning.
This has led me to the conclusion that when I drink AND smoke, I'm much more ill the next day. Like, throwing up ill. The last time I threw up after drinking was after a Fort party, where, *gasp, surprise*, I'd been smoking.
Is it possible to have a nicotine hangover? 'Cuz I think I've got one... Although having come and spent several hours at the library with a bottle of water and my dissertation and I'm feeling much better. Now to get some food into me... lunch time!
I Am Reading
Academically: A friend's comments on my dissertation, alongside my own dissertation. It's so handy to have friends that are experts in fields related to your own. I love the Rev. Dr. Ruth Gouldbourne at this point in time!
For Fun: Still slogging away at the adventures of Hester Prynne and the Rev. Mr. Dimmesdale
Pile of Books on My Windowsill: No change. I should probably get to those...
I had the creepiest dream last night. It's one I've had before, but not recently.
It involved my grandmother dying. Which isn't all that farfetched, she's 92 years old, after all.
Then, in true "i should've been born before 1900 fashion", I dreamed that we stuck the corpse, in its coffin, in the living room of the house she hasn't owned since I was 17 years old to have a sort of a wake.
Eerie enough, eh?
But my mom, for some reason, couldn't get over the fact that her mom was dead. So she opened the coffin, saw grandma lying there, and burst into tears and had to leave the room. She ran out into the kitchen.
At which point Grandma woke up.
Yes, she woke up, but she was nothing more than a husk of her former self - almost like she'd had several strokes or something, and cognitive functions were pretty much gone.
And I think that upset me more than the idea of her just dying.
I woke myself up (yup, by this point I'd realized it was my recurring dream) at 5:30 and cried myself back to sleep until it was time to face the day.
I Am Reading:
No change since last post
It involved my grandmother dying. Which isn't all that farfetched, she's 92 years old, after all.
Then, in true "i should've been born before 1900 fashion", I dreamed that we stuck the corpse, in its coffin, in the living room of the house she hasn't owned since I was 17 years old to have a sort of a wake.
Eerie enough, eh?
But my mom, for some reason, couldn't get over the fact that her mom was dead. So she opened the coffin, saw grandma lying there, and burst into tears and had to leave the room. She ran out into the kitchen.
At which point Grandma woke up.
Yes, she woke up, but she was nothing more than a husk of her former self - almost like she'd had several strokes or something, and cognitive functions were pretty much gone.
And I think that upset me more than the idea of her just dying.
I woke myself up (yup, by this point I'd realized it was my recurring dream) at 5:30 and cried myself back to sleep until it was time to face the day.
I Am Reading:
No change since last post
So I'm planning what the hell I'm going to do with myself for 3.5 weeks when I'm done school. Here's how it looks so far:
Sept 22 - get the shipping company in to pick up all my shit except for one suitcase's worth, my backpack, and my laptop.
Sept 23 - take the laptop, suitcase, and backpack and head down to London, to drop off the laptop and the suitcase with either my friend A, or at my friend R's.
Sept 24 - ?
Sept 25 - ?
Sept 26 - ?
Sept 27 - Head up to Durham. Meet M. Catch evensong at Durham cathedral, then head up to Newcastle for the night.
Sept 28 - Hadrian's wall (sleep at Newcastle).
Sept 29 - Show M around York (I love this city, and playing geeky tourist in it is so much fun! Sleep at Newcastle again).
Sept 30 - Go to ? (this will either be Glasgow, Edinburgh, or Inverness).
Oct 1 - Fly from Inverness (or Glasgow, or Edinburgh) to Stornoway. Rent car from lovely car rental place at airport that will provide me with an automatic, since I'm still incapable of driving standard. Spend a quiet evening at the B&B since there's dick all to do in Stornoway on a Sunday.
Oct 2 - Drive around the Isle of Lewis. Take in the Broch, the blackhouses, the whalebone arch, the standing stones, etc.
Oct 3 - ? May spend a second day on Lewis. Or I may take the ferry back to the mainland and head to Inverness
Oct 4 - If I didn't go back to the mainland yesterday, I'll go today. If I did go back to the mainland, I'll be joining M and some of her friends in Inverness for a tour of Loch ness and Skye. Sleep in Inverness (probably at the youth hostel - 5-star hostel in Inverness, it's quite lovely, really!).
Oct 5 - ? (Explore Inverness)
Oct 6 - To Edinburgh. Meet with the ladies at the Herald House Hotel.
Oct 7 - Edinburgh.
Oct 8 - ?
Oct 9-17 - ?
Oct 18 - Head to London. Pick up stuff.
Oct 19 - Fly home to Canada.
Anyone have any ideas on what to do on the question mark days? I have free accommodation in Kent, Norfolk, Aberdeen-ish area, Glasgow-ish area, Preston, Chester, Aberystwyth, Swansea, Bournemouth...
Any ideas whether or not there's really more than one day's worth of stuff to do on Lewis? I've had mixed reviews... and I've never been to Skye, but _have_ done Loch Ness and don't really need to see it again...
And if you'd like to join me at any point, you're more than welcome!
I Am Reading
Academically: The saying of Iohn late duke of Northumberlande uppon the scaffolde at the tyme of his execution the xxii daye of Auguste 1553.
For Fun: The Scarlet Letter
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: unchanged
Sept 22 - get the shipping company in to pick up all my shit except for one suitcase's worth, my backpack, and my laptop.
Sept 23 - take the laptop, suitcase, and backpack and head down to London, to drop off the laptop and the suitcase with either my friend A, or at my friend R's.
Sept 24 - ?
Sept 25 - ?
Sept 26 - ?
Sept 27 - Head up to Durham. Meet M. Catch evensong at Durham cathedral, then head up to Newcastle for the night.
Sept 28 - Hadrian's wall (sleep at Newcastle).
Sept 29 - Show M around York (I love this city, and playing geeky tourist in it is so much fun! Sleep at Newcastle again).
Sept 30 - Go to ? (this will either be Glasgow, Edinburgh, or Inverness).
Oct 1 - Fly from Inverness (or Glasgow, or Edinburgh) to Stornoway. Rent car from lovely car rental place at airport that will provide me with an automatic, since I'm still incapable of driving standard. Spend a quiet evening at the B&B since there's dick all to do in Stornoway on a Sunday.
Oct 2 - Drive around the Isle of Lewis. Take in the Broch, the blackhouses, the whalebone arch, the standing stones, etc.
Oct 3 - ? May spend a second day on Lewis. Or I may take the ferry back to the mainland and head to Inverness
Oct 4 - If I didn't go back to the mainland yesterday, I'll go today. If I did go back to the mainland, I'll be joining M and some of her friends in Inverness for a tour of Loch ness and Skye. Sleep in Inverness (probably at the youth hostel - 5-star hostel in Inverness, it's quite lovely, really!).
Oct 5 - ? (Explore Inverness)
Oct 6 - To Edinburgh. Meet with the ladies at the Herald House Hotel.
Oct 7 - Edinburgh.
Oct 8 - ?
Oct 9-17 - ?
Oct 18 - Head to London. Pick up stuff.
Oct 19 - Fly home to Canada.
Anyone have any ideas on what to do on the question mark days? I have free accommodation in Kent, Norfolk, Aberdeen-ish area, Glasgow-ish area, Preston, Chester, Aberystwyth, Swansea, Bournemouth...
Any ideas whether or not there's really more than one day's worth of stuff to do on Lewis? I've had mixed reviews... and I've never been to Skye, but _have_ done Loch Ness and don't really need to see it again...
And if you'd like to join me at any point, you're more than welcome!
I Am Reading
Academically: The saying of Iohn late duke of Northumberlande uppon the scaffolde at the tyme of his execution the xxii daye of Auguste 1553.
For Fun: The Scarlet Letter
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: unchanged
I got sunburned.
It was my own fault. I was outside for two and a half hours at midday yesterday, with no sunscreen.
Wanna know the funny bit? It hurts, but I don't really mind. Small price to pay for the hours of enjoyment of the bright summer sunshine which, I'm sure, will be all too fleeting.
Guess I'm just a bit of a masochist.
It was my own fault. I was outside for two and a half hours at midday yesterday, with no sunscreen.
Wanna know the funny bit? It hurts, but I don't really mind. Small price to pay for the hours of enjoyment of the bright summer sunshine which, I'm sure, will be all too fleeting.
Guess I'm just a bit of a masochist.
With the sole exception of Brazil in 2002, every team I support manages to lose.
I am so fed up.
ARGH!
I am so fed up.
ARGH!
This has nothing to do with anything.
But is it just me, or does
John Terry (England footballer) 
not look an awful lot like Matthew Macfadyen (English actor)?
I know this is rather girly of me, but the resemblance has been bothering me since the beginning of the cup. Seriously. It's like they could be long-lost cousins or something. Hell, for all I know, they ARE long lost cousins or something.
I seriously had the biggest crush on Macfadyen when he was still in Spooks (MI-5 in Amerispeak - it was/is on A&E - you should watch it!). I've not seen Pride and Prejudice yet, though, as I still really believe I'll not like it (and I have an irrational hatred for Keira Knightley). The said crush hasn't really transferred onto Terry, which is probably a good thing.
In other news, Germany won tonight, and while I didn't get to see Cristiano Ronaldo cry, it was good enough for me. He's been an arrogant little prick all through the tournament, and I've been quite glad to see that my irrational hatred for the spoiled little brat has been picked up by the rest of the English nation in varying degrees. Sure, he can play when he puts his mind to it, but all in all, he's a child that cries when he doesn't get his way. Anyway. 'Twas a lovely game this evening with many a great run from either team, and it was nice to see Khan play - he's such a fantastic goalie, even if he is a little past his prime.
And so, tomorrow, I have only one thing to say... "Allez Les Bleus!"
But is it just me, or does
John Terry (England footballer) 
not look an awful lot like Matthew Macfadyen (English actor)?I know this is rather girly of me, but the resemblance has been bothering me since the beginning of the cup. Seriously. It's like they could be long-lost cousins or something. Hell, for all I know, they ARE long lost cousins or something.
I seriously had the biggest crush on Macfadyen when he was still in Spooks (MI-5 in Amerispeak - it was/is on A&E - you should watch it!). I've not seen Pride and Prejudice yet, though, as I still really believe I'll not like it (and I have an irrational hatred for Keira Knightley). The said crush hasn't really transferred onto Terry, which is probably a good thing.
In other news, Germany won tonight, and while I didn't get to see Cristiano Ronaldo cry, it was good enough for me. He's been an arrogant little prick all through the tournament, and I've been quite glad to see that my irrational hatred for the spoiled little brat has been picked up by the rest of the English nation in varying degrees. Sure, he can play when he puts his mind to it, but all in all, he's a child that cries when he doesn't get his way. Anyway. 'Twas a lovely game this evening with many a great run from either team, and it was nice to see Khan play - he's such a fantastic goalie, even if he is a little past his prime.
And so, tomorrow, I have only one thing to say... "Allez Les Bleus!"
Hence the no posting (and how was that for awesome alliterative-ness?).
(For someone who usually posts at least every other day, I do, in fact, feel badly that I've not posted for a bit).
Homesickness is somewhat alleviated. I wallowed in it for a couple of days, then slowly eased myself back into the world. It worked!
France won against Portugal. That little arrogant prick Ronaldo got some come-uppance. I was happy. Don't get me wrong, Rooney wasn't exactly in fine form during that incident either, but Cristiano Ronaldo.... argh!
It's bloody hot here. If you've been paying attention to my weather pixie, you'll notice the weather has been in the mid-to-high 20-degree range. Ha! That's nothing, you'll scoff. Why, that's precisely the sort of temperature it's been at home in Alberta! Right. Well, factor in the humidity, and I can't even walk to the library without feeling like a ball of sweat. Ew. The tank tops that barely saw sunlight (that'd be 'vests' or 'camisoles' for you UKers) last summer (partly because I was in a neck-to-toe dress five days a week) have been getting a good workout this summer. Not to mention that I've discovered that my skin does get a little darker than palest pale when exposed to sunlight. I would hesitate to call myself tanned, though.
The giant spider that lived outside my window last fall is back. It makes me scared to open my window while I sleep, which I'd like to do as I could really use the fresh air... but he only comes out at night, with her little minions... so I open my window during the day for fresh air, but when he makes his appearance, it gets slammed shut again.
Campus sucks over the summer. The grocery store closes stupid early, the library closes stupid early, the bars close at stupid hours, and food service is severely reduced. I may, in fact, go mad.
My illness seems to be gone (the Cold FX my mother sent is probably helping, even if it's just the placebo effect...), with the exception of the odd cough... but being asthmatic that's only to be expected.
11,500 words to go on the dissertation. Maybe I'll get it done after all. I suppose if I keep slogging away and getting 500-1000 words each day, it'll be all right.
I have a friend whose wedding is coming up in September. I was going to cross-stitch her something, but it's not going to be done in time for the wedding. What's a good present to send to someone who's already got a household set up and who doesn't really need that kind of crap? I open the poll up to the general public...
I Am Reading
Academically: Theatre of Horror (Richard van Dülman)
For Fun: Watching The English (Kate Fox - bloody hilarious!!)
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 4 - 1 read, 2 unread, 1 half-read.
(For someone who usually posts at least every other day, I do, in fact, feel badly that I've not posted for a bit).
Homesickness is somewhat alleviated. I wallowed in it for a couple of days, then slowly eased myself back into the world. It worked!
France won against Portugal. That little arrogant prick Ronaldo got some come-uppance. I was happy. Don't get me wrong, Rooney wasn't exactly in fine form during that incident either, but Cristiano Ronaldo.... argh!
It's bloody hot here. If you've been paying attention to my weather pixie, you'll notice the weather has been in the mid-to-high 20-degree range. Ha! That's nothing, you'll scoff. Why, that's precisely the sort of temperature it's been at home in Alberta! Right. Well, factor in the humidity, and I can't even walk to the library without feeling like a ball of sweat. Ew. The tank tops that barely saw sunlight (that'd be 'vests' or 'camisoles' for you UKers) last summer (partly because I was in a neck-to-toe dress five days a week) have been getting a good workout this summer. Not to mention that I've discovered that my skin does get a little darker than palest pale when exposed to sunlight. I would hesitate to call myself tanned, though.
The giant spider that lived outside my window last fall is back. It makes me scared to open my window while I sleep, which I'd like to do as I could really use the fresh air... but he only comes out at night, with her little minions... so I open my window during the day for fresh air, but when he makes his appearance, it gets slammed shut again.
Campus sucks over the summer. The grocery store closes stupid early, the library closes stupid early, the bars close at stupid hours, and food service is severely reduced. I may, in fact, go mad.
My illness seems to be gone (the Cold FX my mother sent is probably helping, even if it's just the placebo effect...), with the exception of the odd cough... but being asthmatic that's only to be expected.
11,500 words to go on the dissertation. Maybe I'll get it done after all. I suppose if I keep slogging away and getting 500-1000 words each day, it'll be all right.
I have a friend whose wedding is coming up in September. I was going to cross-stitch her something, but it's not going to be done in time for the wedding. What's a good present to send to someone who's already got a household set up and who doesn't really need that kind of crap? I open the poll up to the general public...
I Am Reading
Academically: Theatre of Horror (Richard van Dülman)
For Fun: Watching The English (Kate Fox - bloody hilarious!!)
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 4 - 1 read, 2 unread, 1 half-read.
before having a complete and utter homesickness breakdown.
I mean, last time it was only 2.5. I'm getting better. But last time I got to go home soon (thank God for Christmas), and this time I still have another 3.5 months to stick it out.
This always happens. I get busy, I forget about all my troubles, and then the busy-ness ends and I'm left with my dull, shitty life again.
So, I again present you (sorry, I know this is repetitive, but it helps me to work out exactly what my problems are and try to figure out how to deal with them) with a point-form list of the shit that is my life at the moment.
I mean, last time it was only 2.5. I'm getting better. But last time I got to go home soon (thank God for Christmas), and this time I still have another 3.5 months to stick it out.
This always happens. I get busy, I forget about all my troubles, and then the busy-ness ends and I'm left with my dull, shitty life again.
So, I again present you (sorry, I know this is repetitive, but it helps me to work out exactly what my problems are and try to figure out how to deal with them) with a point-form list of the shit that is my life at the moment.
- I figured out that it wasn't the brown-eyed boy that I really cared about - it was more the idea of having someone as a partner/interest and he was the only available person. That, unfortunately does not make me feel any less desire to have someone in life to rely on, talk to, lean on, hug, kiss, etc. And I'm not seeing any chance of that in the near future (although if England had won yesterday I probably would have hugged the cute boy in the pub next to me and blamed it on the 'alcohol'). So, yes, I'm jealous of his new relationship, but not because he's taken, if that makes any sense whatsoever...
- Paris was a great distraction. It was over too quickly.
- Football was a great distraction. It allowed me to think of something other than my dissertation for a few hours each day. It was over too quickly. I got caught up in it and really am quite heartbroken, both myself and for the English nation, that England didn't get any further. I am heartbroken that Brazil didn't make it as well. Shocked, and heartbroken.
- Having T up for the weekend was absolutely fabulous. We got to chat about the ideosyncracies of the English, compare notes... unfortunately it also reminded me of what I'm missing back home, and now that she's gone, I'm dwelling on it.
- I'm worried about my dissertation. I've got 6500 words done, but still need to come up with 13500 more in the next month. I don't know if I can do it. I really don't. I'm scared.
I do know that you are all thinking of me and wishing me the best and are proud of me. I appreciate it. I really do. And I wish there was more I could do to show it. Know that I'm thinking of all of you and your troubles as well. I apologize for being incommunicado this week, but for the first time in a while I've been busy and not able to check blogs every 5 minutes, and I'm sorry that I've not commented and that I've not given you all the attention you deserve. I'm sorry that I'm not stronger and that you have to listen to my problems when I know you have problems as well that deserve a shoulder to lean on.
I'm sorry.
You may or may not have gathered from reading this blog that I'm a bit of a tomboy. Not a big fan of high-heeled shoes... would rather be wearing my 'slouch fit' ripped jeans and a tank top than a skirt and nice top. Makeup is rare. And I like football. And I like to think that, for a Canadian, I'm fairly well-educated when it comes to football.
This is why I have this deeply ingrained feeling right now that all is NOT right with the world. Really.
England went out. Let's face it. They were up a good team, and even a man down they fought it out like absolute champions (fucking ref!... although Rooney brought that one totally on himself). I was prepared, however, to quit crying (ok, I didn't actually cry, but it was close), and dig my fingernails out of my palm from where they'd been clutched around the cross I wear on my neck (not that I believe in any sort of Christianity - it's a Celtic cross, I have Scottish blood, but I digress...), and get on with supporting my other babies.
And now they're out too.
England out. Brazil out. All in the span of 6 hours.
What the fuck?!?!
"Stands not within the prospect of belief" and I am now at a complete and utter loss.
This is why I have this deeply ingrained feeling right now that all is NOT right with the world. Really.
England went out. Let's face it. They were up a good team, and even a man down they fought it out like absolute champions (fucking ref!... although Rooney brought that one totally on himself). I was prepared, however, to quit crying (ok, I didn't actually cry, but it was close), and dig my fingernails out of my palm from where they'd been clutched around the cross I wear on my neck (not that I believe in any sort of Christianity - it's a Celtic cross, I have Scottish blood, but I digress...), and get on with supporting my other babies.
And now they're out too.
England out. Brazil out. All in the span of 6 hours.
What the fuck?!?!
"Stands not within the prospect of belief" and I am now at a complete and utter loss.
