Blood and Glitter

Rich Hall just made me snort wine right up my nose. It burns, and I'm not happy with him.

That is all.

I would have posted this earlier, but the net was playing up *stabs it good* Hope you're having a wonderful day now that you're all grown up - enjoy the following pretty people! All my love ^___^ xxxxxx

I appear to have forgotten about LJ since coming home, which is my wont - I will therefore update in brief, and provide photos to assault anyone's dialup ^_^ First of all, have some adorable glam rock.



Met up with mel on monday, and after gorging ourselves at Pizza Hut *is sated* we headed off round the shops so I could bore her to death shoe hunting; found an incredible pair of shoes which could outshine Tom Cruise's smile, overpaid for them, and we then headed off to Martha's for pool and beer to await Lyddie.
- behold the rhinestone goodness ^_^

It was SO good to see Lyd, it's great that she's back - and we're hopefully going to have the two of them up to stay soon for Dodgegball and evenings on Mesmer etc :D Sat around until far later than we'd planned, indulging in ill-advised cocktails and meeting the new bar staff. And fending off assault from a crazed Irishman, Lestat the Brave prodding him heroically from the table with a pool cue. Well not quite, but that's how it should have happened. Ended up having to ask Papa to collect me from Havant, which he very kindly agreed to, but had a great evening :)

Spent the rest of the week reading and relaxing at home, as I recall. Grandad's been round once or twice; he's still quite trying to be around because he hasn't settled in here properly, but we're getting there.

Saturday was my cousin Matthew's wedding, so we had to get up at around 8 (the scandal) and head up to Bromsgrove; I created several country cds to see me through this ordeal, but felt carsick all the way there, which wasn't much fun :( It was great to see the family though, and I've agreed to go and stay there soon because we really don't see enough of each other. The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, it was held at a lodge in the middle of the countryside, and there was a wonderful orchestra, champagne in the lavendar garden, then a three course dinner in a large cream marquee. :) There weren't too many people there either which was good, just close friends and family; the only thing wrong was the meat. It was so raw when it arrived that I suspected it of having walked in on its own stumped leg.

Had lots to drink; Aunt Elaine and I spent a merry time on the dance floor after dinner, and a random cousin of the bride attached himself to me and attempted to dance too until we prove that I could take more champagne than he could and he had to be led away. :/ Sigh. And they NEVER look like Jonathan. Caught up with my cousins and various relations though, and finally got poured into the car around 8 I think, to make the dark trek back down to hampshire. Sadly, the car sickness wouldn't stomach the alcohol and three course dinner, and I was rather ill on the journey back :'( Not so good. Still, recovered enough by the time we got in to create and devour and enormous bacon sandwich ^__^

Heading up to Egham tomorrow, which means new Supernatural, seeing Allie and Zed again, freedom to be out after 6pm should I so wish it, and Sebastian's cooking dinner for me at some point which I'm looking forward to. Must get off the computer now, so here are photos:

( -That's got to be a man, man!- -Well it if itsn't, it should have been- )

Found this on a facebook group, it made me grin. ^_^

(By a random on facebook.com, based on the song by Richard Thompson)
I like a girl in satin
Who talks dirty in Latin
A girl who’s flirty
When she quotes Krishnamurti
If she likes to be goosed
While reciting from Proust
I’ll know she’s my kind of creature
Among her delectables
Her intellectables
Must be her sexiest feature

I’ve got The Hots For The Smarts
The Hots For The Smarts
IQ off the charts
Give me brains over hearts
I’ve got The Hots For The Smarts

I like a girl from Mensa
With a furrowed brow
When the tenses get denser
She gets it – and how!
I need a polymath
Called Cindy or Cath
Who likes her Plato not too platonic
An autodidact
Who can add and subtract
While sipping her Tolstoy and tonic

I need a girl with a feel
For Faraday’s wheel
A girl who’ll drool
For Fleming’s Left Hand Rule
Now you may like pin-ups
Of girls who do chin-ups
Like Xena the Warrior Princess
But I’ll take to dinner
My Nobel Prize winner
With plutonium stains down her dress

I like a girl who knows loadsa
Kierkegaard and Spinoza
Who likes to play chess
Humming Porgy and Bess
She must be able
From her logarithmic table
To find all those decimal places
And what do I care
That she’s nothing to wear
And her teeth are imprisoned in braces

I want a girl with a brain
The size of Siberia
With a haughty disdain
Of all things inferior
I don’t want a learner
With a Bunsen burner
She must be the finished article
Who sees our attraction
As chemical reaction
And charm as merely a particle

I want a PHD
Who reads Linear ‘B’
Who applies her lotion
With a Brownian motion
Now some men may favour
A girl who’s a raver
A tease or a saucy young minx
But I’ll get undressed with
The girl I’m impressed with
Who’s tunnelling under the Sphinx.

EXAM IS OVER, and I seem to have survived! :D:D:D Not sure how... my laptop chose to turn off touchpad (I admit that yes I told it to, but NO I didn't mean it) so with my mad skillz it took much frustrating threatening of the stupid lousy thing and sifting through countless memories with the use of hte woefully lacklustre keyboard in order to right the wrong. NOT in time for me to cram in a few last minute quotes which might actually have helped, but still. *sigh of relief*. T'is over.



The first section wasn't tooo bad - I answered on Miller and managed to waffle about the presentation and effect of authority in the nineteenth century novel, refering to Austen, Dickens, Stendhal and someone else, with Sarah Water's Affinity to represent the development in the modern historical genre. It may sound thrilling, but it's actually fanTASTIcally boring. ^_^ The second and third sections I managed to race through in an hour each; the first one I twisted around to Rossetti. It started with a quote from Hand and Soul (which is a remarkable short story of his, if you haven't read it I really recommend it) and then asked about the representation of the relationship between the earthly and the divine in one or more writers of the aesthetic period; I wrote mainly on 'The Blessed Damozel', the Pre-Raphaelite image of a masculine femininity, projection of the soul and the roots of their convictions in the Italian renaissance, so I think I waffled enough. The last one was on Wilde, so I happily launched into a tirade on the effect of 'the gaze' in Salome. Even though I got a slight fit of the giggles because I kept hearing Grace's voice saying "the gays don't catch", but by then my hand and brain were asleep so never mind. Talked alot about gender identity in that as well, and the 'virgin or abomination' theory about Herod's view of his daughter. Then I did some textual analysis of the threat and anxiety associated with gaze, and the lack of reciprocation between Jokanaan and Salome, but mainly? I was just delighted that the last ever piece of work for this degree was on Wilde! ^_^ I wrote about Dorian Gray too and the paradox between his introspective gaze and the false / idealised gaze of those around him.

Went down to Medicine afterwards with Gabi and Cameron, which was nice; indulged in wine and VK, chatted to Chris and Camilla for a bit then went to collect Allie - she retired to her room after the exam, think she was a bit catatonic! :p We walked down to Dominos afterwards which was a remarkable walk what with the newly-acquired freedom, but I'd foolishly worn a tiny skirt and it started raining in big freezing gusts. Classy. Melly, sorry I didn't call you back - I shall phone tomorrow and we can rejoice over my freedom. ^_^ xxxxx



Ran home with the pizza, and curled up on the sofa to fangirl over Jensen; this episode was a real one off... (sotto voce)... Sam saw someone get hurt once. o_O Allie headed off quite late, so I've had to divide my time between fighting with the laptop for supreme control and recieving phonecalls from parents wanting to know how the exam went. :) That part was nice - I foolishly mentioned to mum that something simple had gone wrong with the laptop and maybe the computer centre guys could fix it, and recieved a ten minute 'instruction' session on how to avoid allowing the precious gem *kicks it* to fall into the hands of the knuckle-dragging louts who undoubtedly roam university computer centres, terrifying people with their water-in-plug sockets game. *rolls eyes* Urgh. She then rang back to ask if I'd tried 'control, alt, del'. Wonderful; that hadn't occured to me at all - here I've been sitting here staring at the thing and willing my kinetic powers into action by bashing the keyboard with a brick...

Anyway, it's fixed now. And all I have to do is wait for the exam results... I'm really nervous, I know I didn't do enough work this year *gloomy* and now I'm free, wtf am I gonna do? I'm thinking that a year out may not have been such a good idea; I mean, the potential to earn money is good, though I'd rather be like the Comte de Fru-Fru and have other people earn it and then give it to me. I *have* to do an MA the next year; the thought of not doing academic work suddenly seems dreadful! :S On the other hand, at least I can practise my writing for a bit. Hm.



Crash diet between now and the wedding, and I'm home as of saturday I think, which will be nice though I'll miss it up here. Allie and Zed and I are trying to work out ways of altering our living arrangements next year, cos none of us wants to live at home. I mean, I love home very much, but it's so time to move on and everything... plus, don't think I could take a year of it, I'd feel too much like a kid. Might be different if I could drive... *bounces hopefully* Really hoping for lessons this summer.



He was a Prince of lust and pride;
He showed no grace till the hour he died.
------------------------------------------
God only knows where his soul did wake,
But I saw him die for his sister's sake.

-D.G. Rossetti

Right, it's rolled around to wednesday morning, the day of judgement. Half twelve and I'm not in bed; this isn't good news. Revised all of tuesday with Allie, managed to stutter my way through a couple of narrative theories and then started on Wilde and Rossetti for the rest of the evening. Me scared! :(

I've read about D.A. Miller today and police in the novel, so as long as I don't literally plagiarise every word the man said lol I think I could write on a Dickens novel maybe. He's a fairly concise writer compared with some of them, but it's still kind of tricky. It links in with the panopticon idea too in terms of surveillance (which I could always link to Bahktin if forced) and that leads to Lukacs and the historical novel. I'm only planning on answering one question in that section, but I'm so badly versed in the damn critics let alone their critics... gulp. Send me some luck?

Wilde... I think I can waffle about The Critic as an Artist in terms of Wilde and Pater's distinction from Arnold regarding art... which can be linked to T.S. Eliot and his pompous-ass belief that they were performing a pernicious displacement of religion with aesthetics (would he have said that if he'd seen Rum Tum Tugger's lycra PANTS I ask, but then I'm very very tired indeed). I can talk about Salome ok I think, thematically, symbolically and in terms of femininity even though I don't actually have any feminist criticism of the play :/ I'm SO unprepared for this exam. I swear I've never felt this unprepared, and this is *me* we're talking about. *whimpers in fear*

Anyway, must go to bed - getting up v. v. early to do more last-minute revision in the vain hope that it might get stuck in my long-term memory. We're having pizza tomorrow night ^_^ and Supernatural time, huzzah. Seems like tomorrow night will never arrive. :s

In other news, parents went out with Z's parents and Steve and Dani tonight to the theatre, and when Mumsy rang to say good luck and goodnight she said that they'd met David Suchet ^_^ And I spent my evening with Matthew Arnold...

Can someone please explain to me why it's gone half one and I'm STILL up, despite having an exam on wednesday that I've only partially prepared for? I've been browsing JSTOR (the thinking girl's wikipedia) and I've managed to move from the safe territory of D.A. Miller, Bentham's panoptic device and Lukacs' historical novel to the murky waters of postmodern poetic criticism, articles about Henry James and aestheticism (very interesting but not on the syllabus) and an article about Anne Rice and the 'queering of canon'. Up with this my brain will not put.

Brief summary of the day:

Went to Nero's with Allie to meet Gabi for coffee. We got soaked. We hurried to get there on time. My legs froze. We rang Gabi to find out why she was late, and she was in the shower according to Cameron, as she'd forgotten about lunch. RAAARGH. Zed picked us up fortunately.

Walked halfway to coffeehouse barefoot in a cunning ruse to avoid getting my happy cherry shoes wet. This didn't work and I was soaked to the bone, and I continued my single-handed supporting of Nero's by purchasing a much-needed panini. Sarah-Jane thinks I'm setting up home in there lol.

Smoked salmon and cheese for dinner.

Worked all afternoon (after a fashion), highlighted some useless notes, panicked over revising the bare minimum, then settled down to watch a couple of dvds. Sigh.


Friended Markass on facebook - this is excellent news. ^_^

Had a drunken phone call from my poor innocent cousin Chris who'd had what he termed a 'quinnteplet Jack Daniels'. You have to give him credit for trying.

On the plus side, I downloaded more hideous country music and about a thousand articles to read when the end of uni deprives me of jstor. :(

*yawns* We're heading to bed earlyish today (or rather that's the intention) cos for some reason the house is sapping all will to remain awake. Went out for lunch today with parents, Jane, Roger, Andrew and Jamie, which was a very welcome break, and lots of fun. Had an enormous three course meal then we all sat around chatting in the garden over umpteen glasses of wine. Moved indoors for coffee, and sat around discussing Stephen Fry for ages ^_^ and I cuddled Jane's twenty year old arthritic cat for ages - the poor. little. thing. lol it's rather aged.

Home for a bit of half-hearted work, Allie went up the hill to fetch Supernatural cos we decided we were too bored to work (no suprises) so Zed and I indulged in the Saint Agur yet again, then we all settled down on the sofa with notes on our laps so that we could pretend to be reading. We're having to rewatch season one now, but never mind.

We're meeting Gabi for coffee albeit briefly tomorrow morning, then Allie and I are going to spend the day revising for Theories of the Novel *tears hair out* Really scared about the exam now :( so much is riding on it. Extra stress at the moment about organising the Paris trip, due to the stupid French system of only allowing you to pay on a mastercard or visa - do they want the tourists or not? *fume* Then Gabi thought she might want to come too even though she'd already said no, and we were worried about numbers to begin with, hence having Mel and Mark join us after Gabi and Cameron had definately opted not to go. It's not that we don't want her there or anything like that, it's just that you really can't go round a capital city like that with six people, it never ends well. And it's going to be expensive too. And it increases the number of people with no french - plus, not too sure everyone would be compatible in such close quarters for four and a half days. :/ Still. Trying to work out a way of letting her know we love her and still pointing out that it isn't practical; Allie thought we could arrange another holiday later in the year or something, which seems like a good idea. *headdesk* Urgh, I hate when unavoidable circumstances make you feel like you're being rude to someone when you really really don't want to. :(

Anyway, off to bed now I think. Can't wait for the exams to be over.

Sum total of NOTHING achieved today, well done team Me. Getting a little edgy, just hoping that my vague knowledge of the texts will support the cramming I'm going to have to do between now and wednesday afternoon.

Managed to sleep in late again (those mattresses are in league with Mesmer) but had a delicious dream involving my being a vampire and Dean being himself. Almost as good as the one I had the other night about being a random character in a three act tragedy, living in a giant marble palace; I was a vampire again (You Know You've Watched Too Much Supernatural When...) and I met a curious short Lestat-alike, who was about to tell me the purpose of existence when my alarm went off. If this is the best form my anxiety dreams can take, I'm enjoying it.

We went to Sainsbury's today for smoked salmon and cream cheese, then had bagels at home and watched Miss Potter, which was a really enjoyable film, magical and well-acted, even though Zed and I had both had the ending spoiled for us by my mother and a magazine. Allie came over in the late afternoon in time to enjoy some of my Michael Banks handywork (Mel, you have a loverlee present waiting for you...) and we settled down to watch Family Guy before she headed home and Zed went to sleep on Mesmer. ^_^ So adorable!

Going out for lunch tomorrow, so have to shower now if I stand a chance of being up and ready in time for parents to pick me up. Le sigh. I'm too tired and lazy. In other news, I suspect I should have read more criticism on Oscar in the past few weeks.

Hee, had a good couple of days aside from the almost TOTAL lack of revision.

I'm not toooo worried about the Dandies and Decadence part of the exam, cos I can answer two of the three questions on it, which means I only really need to familiarise myself with two or three topics from the other one, but for Dandies I need to familiarise myself with a lot of Ruskin, Pater and Wilde, plus criticism on their work, which will be a merry week. Spent yesterday in the library with Allie, Gabi and Nick, trying to read through Marius the Epicurean. It's such an amazing text, I really recommend it - the only problem is that whilst Pater used the language with the grand effulgence of a thousand burning violins, creating paragraphs replete with excellent examples of the potential of the language and finely expressed ideals, he could rabbit on bit :/ Which means that wading through it is a bit like eating a large pie. Damn do you want that pie, but still. Whew. Went for a drink with Allie and Nick afterwards and sat around over beers *claws at them* discussing the exams and plans for next year.



Got up late today, had a deliciously warm shower; highly dissatisfied with my figure at the moment cos I've put on just enough weight to be uncomfortable, so I'm starting a mini diet routine that won't make much physical difference before the exams - I need all the help I can get with Theories of the Novel, I don't need loss of brain cells :P On a highly superficial and unimportant note, the water here is so dry it's actually sapping every vestige of moisture from my skin, and I'm single-handedly keeping Garnier in production. Not cool.

Walked into Egham with Allie and Zed, got my chest insulted by a sour-looking old woman in tescos (my favourite bit of me!! Revoltingly offensive little gnome...) then went to meet Sebastian in Caffe Nero (met him the other day on campus; he's half Spanish, half Italian and studying his PhD here, and invited me for coffee when I met him in town the other day). Ended up chatting for over an hour in the end, we've got all sorts of things in common which is nice :) We both really love old musicals and MGM movies, so we talked about those for a while, and he's travelled alot so he told me all about himself over two large lattes. :) Aaah, my precious fixation... managed to survive today on the huge latte and a sandwich, which I'm impressed with. Well that and copious amounts of fruit and water, but they don't count. Go team Stat. Got home around half four and did some sorting of notes (which was badly needed).



Gave up around half seven, so Allie and I broke into the Boursin and the three of us curled up to watch more Supernatural. We're SO disappointed the series is nearly at an end but Allie's ordered the first half of season 2, so it should be here soon. They're getting so slashy, and Dean is actually the most attractive man on the planet. Ever. Apart from Stephen Fry, but there's a whole lot of issues there preventing our blissful union. Scared Allie with hideous references to our newly-acquired Southern personalities (hey Zeddy... Chucky-Sue finger-licked his chuk'n!) Oh dear, the tone of conversation is going down with a direct corrolation to the immediacy of our exams, I suspect there's a link. *headdesk*



On a slightly more intellectual note (albeit 'slightly') I'm still planning out the Theories of the Novel subjects. Think that Morretti and Edward Said might be a good topic cos Allie's doing it too, but it's all on postcolonialism and I'm not too good at that. The other options involve narrative theory, which I'm not too bad at, and Lukacs theory of the historical novel, which I wrote a non-assessed paper on a few months ago, so the latter might be beneficial to my cause. *frowns*. Still, looking forward to hopefully getting my hair done tomorrow, then I think we're going for coffee before settling down to work at ours in the afternoon. Zed and I are planning lunch or something on saturday which'll be great :D:D and then on sunday I'm going out for lunch with parents and some of their friends from Mum's old workplace, which should be relaxing and enjoyable - you can tell we have finals next week.

Right - bedtime.

This is officially the latest I've EVER left an essay... my notes are in chaos! CHAOS I tell you!! And I'm too hot. I've finished the five poems at least, the last one is the worst thing EVER created and when I die I owe Baudelaire an apology, and possibly a beer. Writing the methodologies at the moment, and I've got the essay all planned out with 600 words apiece on evaulating the rotten things. I just spelled 'rotten' as 'wrotten'. And didn't notice for a full thirty seconds - why am I even bothering *headdesk*. Zeddy made me a bowl of chicken soup because she's amazing *cuddles her* so I'm slowly waking up after a strong tea (which she also brought me - this girl deserves big plates of cookies!!!) I'm listening to some bad country to keep me awake, but the effects of four not very good hours of sleep are starting to kick in. Zed hasn't slept and neither as Holly, she rang this morning to say that she's still polishing both of hers and hasn't started her essay either *is consoled a little bit*. Cameron was up all night too - why do we all do this to ourselves, why do we think it's a good idea to leave things til the last minute? :'( I'm faintly consoled by the fact that it'll be all over bar the crying come four o'clock, so I just have to keep writing. Soup finished, back to the grindstone.

That soup was so good. So so so good. I love it, I eat it, and if it were possible, I would have sex with it. ^_^

This represents the confusion of gender and sexuality in modern woman; combined with lines stol- er, adapted from an earlier poem, it provides a brief summation of my life as Woman in Modern Sexual Politics, and also contains the picture of the half man, half woman vampire Petronia. Supernatural fiction! Religious symbolism! Gender-bending and even a tiny picture of Daniela Sea from The L Word for that added input of modern female typecasting. You read it here first - feel free to review...



I need a glass of wine... f*** that, I need a BOTTLE of wine. White, cold and sufficiently sour enough to keep me awake til dawn. I'm denying myself hearts, facebook and music at the moment, and my procrastination has dwindled to crying blood tears at the laptop's awful internet connection, and watching the moon make its slow but inevitable passage across the sky.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD, IT'S ALL SO HIDEOUSLY UNFINISHED.... *has hysterics* Or maybe hystrionics... yes, that fits better. Finished the first essay as I said, but failed to complete the five poems by yesterday. Or this afternoon. OR NOW. GOD I need some help... I've finished one; I rewrote one that I'd created as a semiotic something something in week 8 as a response to Julia Kristeva (curse her). It's all terribly inventive, it's written on three see-through sheets stapled together to create the final multi-layered masterpiece, guarenteed to have them swooning over their marking desks in a dead faint admiration. Or they'll recognise the large helping of pretentious CRAP that it represents... either way, I'm screwed. *dejected sigh*



The next one is OH so clever - I've already written it, it's an autobiographical work, rich in procedural formulation and aleatory meanings. The third one is a CONTINUATION of this stroke of literary genius, and is in the creative process. It's a picture I drew ages ago of Petronia from Blackwood Farm (see, see, haemaphrodite - gender politics, oooooh) 'Writing gender and politics' seems to be a safe bet; I've voted an I have a gender, that sets me up for the challenge, I'm sure. Problem is, the sources are all hideous feminists with the general cry-baby 'I'VE BEEN CONSTRUCTED BY A PRE-POSTMODERN PATRIARCHAL SOCIETY AND HAVE TO REDEFINE MYSELF THROUGH THE MERCILESS ASSASSINATION OF A LANGUAGE THAT HAS SERVED US JUST FINE TIL NOW THANK YOU VERY MUCH'. Tch. Women. Still, I'm going to attempt to rediscover my wymyn-ness through the deconstruction of linguistic structure. Please wish me luck, I'm on the verge of tears. *headdesk*


Still, it's the beginnings of a portfolio. It's a little like Blue Steel (I shouldn't even be talking about it!) but I'll probably post it on here around 4 in the morning when I'll still be writing the rotten 3000 word analysis. Off I go to write a classic of our generation, a ten line manifesto of all that is amiss in the Representation of Womyn. Maybe in the shape of a uterus...

WKD f-ed with my body clock and all I got was this lousy headache.

It's nearly four am! Curse you, you blue-tinted excuse of an alcopop. Did at least get some books from the library today, and prodded my essay into slightly better shape. Somehow I've waffled 3000 words out but I think there must be a repeated paragraph somewhere :s cos I haven't talked about half the things on my plan. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS when you do indepth analysis! This is why I hate writing about novels. The poetry thing is in tatters of course; think I'll churn out some feminist waffle regarding perspective of the body or something, and hope they don't fail me and doom me to the life of a Caffe Nero waitress who sells seedy postmodern poetry on the side. Or maybe I do, it is a pretty viable career choice. Anyway, yes. OUTSTANDING work, this girl. I'm off to blink myself to sleep. *headdesk*

For no reason at all: some random artwork.



Right, I've managed to drag myself through 3000 words today, well done me - haven't said anything remotely constructive and I have yet to include my criticism, so I need to go up to the library upon the 'morrow to pad out the bibliography. Chris was in there all today and got his essay done which is sickening; might see him tomorrow if he's still doing PP, and Holly thought she'd be around to so that'd be good. :) Still: good start. Just need to get out a few things to inspire the portfolio of poeticrap (which I believe will be the title of my first postmodern collection. Actually it'll be so postmodern it'll be my last, my penultimate will be next followed by the first and three middle volumes, all detailing the various venemous wraths and plagues I intend to bring down around Dell's ears). But I digress.



We drove down to tesco earlier which was a welcome break; I really do need to stop spending so much on my shopping, or I'll be living on crusts in Paris. Trying to eat less so that I may YET fit into that damn dress (which I now wish I'd never bought, urgh). Planning on getting some pretty sparkly shoes to dress it up with, but still - maybe I should wear a tux a la Ellen Degeneres and shock the Northern side of the family, mwuhuhu.

Heading to bed now; had more tasty sandwiches today plus two more bottles of WKD (hence staying up late again) and I've downloaded some truly sterling country music (including 'The Devil May Care (But I Don't)' and some gorgeous Mary Chapin Carpenter music, which I'm pleased with. ^_^ I'm sure you'll all appreciate the following icon:

Had a great day today :D:D Parents came and took me out for lunch, which was wonderful - we went over to Henley for the afternoon, ate in a gorgeous Italian restaurant, complete with Vettriano's on the wall and a more-than-attentive waiter ;) then went for a walk along the river to hunt through antique shops and random bookshops. Found a 1927 edition of Robert Service's 'Ballads of a Cheechako' which made the afternoon more than worthwhile ^___^ Mumsy purchased it for me, and also bought me a collection of Michelangelo's sonnets translated by Elizabeth Jennings (who's following me everywhere at the moment for some reason), a tiny edition of 'The Rivals' and a book on the life of Ruskin. Lent Daddy Good Will Hunting which I'm hoping he'll like, cos he hadn't seen it due to disliking Robin Williams; think I talked him into appreciating it.

Had a brief argument with Mum who doesn't think a gap year is a good idea and won't financially support me in an MA if I chose to take a year out. I pointed out that the purpose of a year out would be to earn cash so that she didn't *have* to, but I think she went away from it thinking she'd talked sense into me :/ Is taking a year out really such a dumb idea? :/ The aim is to get some money together so I can decide if an MA really is the right direction, or if something more specific career-wise would be a better option. Plus I want to save money so I can do some travelling, which may sound unlikely but is very high on my list of priorities right now. Hm. TBC.

Still haven't done the essay but I'm on my second 700ml bottle of WKD and I'm blazin' *Noel Fielding grin*. I hasten to add that it's the caffeine that's keeping me going, as they're about as alcoholic as a polo. Tidied my room completely last night so I'm actually enjoying being in here; the walls are looking pretty, the bed's made, and even though the desk is nearly collapsing under books and clutter, it feels like a good working atmosphere. The essay plan is in great shape too!! *tries to make it sound good* Started a few of the paragraphs already, and am currently trying to work out how the heck a modern read *would* identify with any of the little tykes in Lord of the Flies. Allie sent me one of her essays on the subject which has provided some good background information; DAMN that girl is a good essay writer, it's depressing; still, I'm aiming for 3400 words, and I think if I get one or two critics out of the library tomorrow to support my argument and pad out my booklist, I should leave myself with three full days to get the poetry assignment written. *gnaws lip* Zeddy found me a WONDERFUL user pic though, so the world makes sense again. ARGH HAVETOGETTHISFINISHEDBEFOREMORNINGORIMDEADOMGZ.

Also, in the video for this song? Meatloaf's little face breaks my heart!

WKD, you have let me down. *yawns*



Essay still in planning stages, though I've assigned sections and lengths to the things I want to discuss; aiming to write about 3400 words in total I think, with my conclusion being so spectacularly academic that I really don't dare write it here - oh hell yes I do. My conclusion is that yes, to a certain extent the novels require us to identify with the protagonists, and their purpose is to drag us all to the dark side of 1950's American teenage angst. *headdesk* Je ne m'inquiète plus. Considering an earlyish night; parents are coming up to see me tomorrow, so might go to bed now, get up early and do a bit of work then rush the whole thing out of the way when I get back in the late afternoon.

Trying to decide which aspects to include regarding the poetry assignment. We have a choice of routes to follow, and have to produce five pieces in response to at least three. They each require a 200 word methodology, then we have to write a critical commentary of 3000-3500 words providing a theoretical reflection on our own practise. "I downed a litre of vodka and produced pretentious and precious postmodern nonsense until I was sick into my own scorn" is apparently not a wise premise to begin with ;P so I need to investigate other possibilities. Still trying to decide if I want to do 5 individual pieces, a series of 5 poems following the criteria, or an individual piece preceeded by working versions. We can chose between:
a)visual and concrete
b)sound, score and performance
c)alternative narrative and lyrics forms
d)aleatory and procedural writing
e)writing gender and politics (this one seems the safest bet to begin with)
f)consumerism and the city
g)L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E and post-L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E writing.

*cries* Where's Tom Lehrer when you need him. Either way, I'm heading to bed now. Far too sleepy to carry on, and I might as well let Mesmer lull me into a state of false security.


Have a pretty flower.

Well, I think my plan is fairly well finished. I'm leafing through a few articles on JSTOR and listening to Enya's sister Maire, who has a surprisingly good voice. Had a fairly large lunch for me, which had the unfortunate side-effect of making me sleepy, so I lost time there. Had a nap for about an hour or two and had a baffling dream involving Meatloaf that I'd rather not relate.

The weather's been funny all day, it feels like it's going to break any minute - the sky was beautiful earlier though and the evening was balmy, so I went for a sojourn to Tesco to fetch WKD in order to stay awake for a while (Mel will remember its caffeinated properties). It's such a beautiful night, it feels like summer - WHY am I cooped up to waffle about Holden and his insecurities? Or an island that's reminding me uncomfortably of Europe with every passing chapter analysis, sans the pig head. Considering making the pig head the actual protagonist, that way I'd have limited material to work with and I could write about my close identification with the Lord... complete with intergender ironic comparison because the pig was female. I think I'm onto something there. *tired sigh* Anyway, I'm onto my second WKD now and I've just made a tasty (if unusual) sandwich, so back to work. I WON'T let myself go to bed until I've written either the introduction or the conclusion.

Today, Lestat:

Intends to get her essay plan finished, and start writing the damn thing, on the grounds that she's now a day and a half behind her self-imposed plan.

Isn't going to purchase alcohol, or any food that isn't fruit, cereal, cheese or meat. And she's going to like it.

Isn't going to check facebook/LJ/hotmail more often than she checks the time. This is a bad move, tactically speaking.

Is going to organise a plan of action in terms of getting the other essay done as well, so that she can take time off on wednesday afternoon to see her parents, who are coming up to take her out for lunch ^_^

Is going to stop missing Supernatural and lurking around google in hopes of finding such images as this:



Is going to admit to herself that Meatloaf, amusingly eighties as he may be, is not inspirational music; he is a distraction. David Daniels in the way to go.

Isn't going to write over-long pretentious sentences that mean nothing/repeat themselves purely for the purpose of getting the word count up... at least, not until she really runs out of things to waffle about.

Damnit, yet another day has gone by and I have achieved the sum total of Very Little Indeed. We stayed up last night watching Sleepless in Seattle followed by an episode of Supernatural (my love of Dean grows by the hour) and so I ended up sleeping in, which wasn't tactically speaking the best option... Allie and I went to Nero's for coffee and panini around lunchtime, distracted ourselves doing half-hearted work for a bit then Zed drove us to Sainsbury's so that I could invest in wine and they could invest in jelly beans; The best part about driving to the supermarket has to be the Country. Blaring Trace Adkins from the window pleases me a little more than it should.

Slightly cheered by the fact that Chris noted my facebook and pointed out that he hasn't started either of his essays; on the other hand, his ability to dash of a first class essay in one night makes me look like an amateur, so I'm still twitching over my lack of plan. Also need to start sorting out the Paris trip, so need to catch a hold of Mark at some point if he ever answers his texts. Right - back onto the plan (which is, to use my favourite piece of unusual parlance, craptacular) and who knows, I might get something done before bedtime.