Curiosity Killed the Cat

I haven't been on here for a few days thanks to my wonderfully fun essay. Oddly enough I couldn't seem to justify coming on here when I was putting off the work (which, let's face it, was a LONG time). Annoyingly I can waste time watching the guys on the Nintendo for hours at a time, or even watching Jonathan Creek (because I may write a sentence), but something relatively useful in comparison has to be put off too. I wanted to write on here, or do some work for the creative writing competition, or even just sort out emails, but I just can't seem to get down to it.

The essay is pretty awful, total waffle and scribblings when I can sit myself down to write. I have no clear focus or arguement in it, it doesn't answer the question well and I used barely any books because I couldn't be bothered to read them and left it all 'til Tuesday anyway. The motivation problem is getting a little worse too. I know it could be worse, I know I could have left it and not finished it or whatever, but there genuinely wasn't much work or thought that went into this essay. But I just don't seem to mind.
I got one back earlier this week, very pleased with the result; a first. I know I did quite a lot of work for it (even if it was all crammed into a few days) with lots of reading. This is different. This is just crap and, pretty funny, I can't even face reading through it once! Oh well, have a few more hours until have to go and give it in.
Sadly am rather looking forward to going to Egyptology this afternoon, it is one of those ones where I actually feel like a real student. Because I can actually listen and not want to throw myself off the top of the theatre. Maybe that's the point. It's in a theatre, so I more readily associate it with Legally Blonde or something. But it's nice, sitting there with some friends, writing notes and finding it interesting.
Rather feel like noodles for lunch.

Curtains all billowy, wind wafting calming lavendar and patchouli around my cleared room, orchid not dead. Ah, life is good. But I think E might have been smoking in her room, so I plan to have a big fussy bust-up and shatter the peace ever so slightly. That wind's getting a little chilly and paper rustle-y and I need to empty the scummy hoover bag and do some reading and brush my hair for once. But, oh, let's not think of that.

A and Pip are getting back sometime after midday, so me and The Dude are getting a little overexcited. I blame her for my weird happiness when I'm in this place, you can't help but smile when you share the house with a hyperactive puppy-dog. No, more like a puppy on speed. Sometimes she frightens me. Just so mad, and we have too much in common for it to be completely comfortable.
But I guess that's how most groups work; people complementing one another in their total uniqueness, with an undercurrent of barely-recognisable identical qualities. Sometimes I think some of the girls here are so individual, but then you get to know them and underneath we are so much alike. Maybe it's because everyone displays their qualities in such different ways to everyone else?
Look at how people sulk; E makes a very childish and public fuss, whilst continually referring to what has upset her in hopes that people will take the bait, then she can just escalate into this huge puffed-up, stroppy weeble. Pip gets annoyingly unresponsive and pretends that she doesn't understand anything you're asking her, whilst still hanging around like a bad smell. The Dude just gets snappy and tells everyone to 'fuck off', hurriedly followed by a casual 'I'm allowed, it's hormonal'. Spoony shuts herself in her room and bottles it up, that's about it. A just doesn't seem to have a negative thought in her but is very careful about keeping this persona in the public eye. S will get rather angry and red and mutter about the issue, and have a mini-rant to one of us a little later after going to her room with a 'headache'.

I'm never sure about me. I wonder if the others are?

Eaten masses of crisps, will need to be rolled to campus on Monday. E got back with the fiance around midday, was lovely to see her. Even if I was coerced into carrying some of her bags up to her room. Nice to watch the others struggle with boxes of DVDs, duffel bags and the such, whilst I skip along with a bag of stuffed toys. Why one person needs so many fluffy penguins, I don't know, but I find it is easier not to question E. She's not the most logical of people. It explains why she's marrying Wayne Rooney's less attractive double.

Lots of lots of vital shopping done, excellent, and I tried lots of clothes on in (I think) every charity shop Exeter has to offer. Found this gorgeous little funky dress (just above knee length, thick straps, mad greeney brown, orange, pink patterns) which was a little too big to be worth a fiver.
Then just the food shop, which, as I kind of missed lunch due to hibernation, ended up just being a massive junk food splurge. Hence the crisps. Me and S are having a fabulous pizza thing tonight, hurrah. Bring on the calories, baby, I really don't care the moment.

Just a thought - what is the most polite way to respond to a Big Issue seller when you're too cheap to buy one?

Oh, oh, and The X Files: I Want To Believe for £4? Yes, darling. You just have to love second hand movie basements.

I'm a total fraud. I should have been at work an hour ago, and I'm still in bed. Oh joy of joys, it is luxurious. I have slept, eaten chocolate, watched a bit of T.V. and daydream fantasised for the entire morning. Mmm, I could get used to this.
Aim to get some essay work done [later] (think I only have the weekend to work on it), but E and her fiance are also getting back today, and I want some food shopping done. I wonder how productive today will be...

Urgh, I'm getting so tired far too early now. It's pitiful. Not even The Mummy Returns is keeping me awake, and normally nothing involving explosions and guns can keep me away.

MP got back this afternoon totally unexpectedly, which was fantastic and I pounced on her the second she came through the door. That may be why she is now flat out on the sofa, totally exhausted. The combined weight of her backpacks and myself was just too much. As was the intense excitement at seeing her favouritest housemate (!).
Speaking of wonderful housemates, it doesn't get better than one of them making you garlic bread. I'm spoilt and love it. Further food updates; have realised calling as grande chef extrordinaire. I even used chickpeas tonight. They're weird and taste like polystyreney cardboard, but I could kid myself that I'm Gordon Ramsey, so all is good.

I labelled over a hundred bits of rock in the archaeology department today. Result.

But obviously Mario Kart racing was the greatest achievement of the day. Nothing makes me happier than being an unbearably smug arse when winning. Which, of course, always happens...!

Ah, I forgot to add about my amazingly successful shopping; both C's and Pip's presents purchased. Of course am observing our £1 limit (combined decision from a group of cheap students who would rather spend their money on shoes and booze) - Pip has a mini wooden penguin and C, Will Smith's album Big Willie Style. Bloody awesome.

I used to wonder who watched this kind of shit. And here I am, sitting in front of The Nation's Favourite Love Songs, while me and The Dude communicate wordlessly over Facebook. She's sitting on the same sofa as me.

Work was pretty good, I was actually required to half think, which was oddly a welcome change. And, get this, actually did some reading and note taking for my essay that's due in next week on the train down to work and when I was waiting to get it back home. Shazzam. Yes, that is my new favourite word. I was sitting next to this really cute looking guy at the bus stop while he was reading an X-Men comic. I think he was the sweetest thing ever, and rather attractive actually. I felt a bit stupid reading 'Roman Imperialism', shameful...
A lot more productive, considering I've lived in the sitting room since returning (apart from a quick milk-emergency dash), playing on the Nintendo and watching the music channels. And not planning to move from the TV this evening either. Am thinking we'll bring in some work later this evening while watching a crappy horror movie (and thinking Slither or something like that).

The Dude is back, hurrah, and she brings with her The BBQ! All hail to the Gloucesterian Convent Girl, yay!

She just gone back out though with her mum and friend, so the next couple of hours will be the last few I have on my own for [possibly] the next two months. Don't actually mind though, I'm so glad my housemates are drifting back like little tumbleweeds. I don't quite realise how close I am to some people until it changes and they're gone or, in this unfortunate case, back.

Haven't had work today, but just been tidying up this morning, cleaning the kitchen and the such. And scrubbing last night's potato dough out of the carpet. Potato mush is disgustingly fascinating if you leave it out overnight. All grey and yicky. Yummo, now I really feel like lunch (!).
Been drawing actually, it's nice to have that urge back. Designing a couple of tattoos (an peacock and a kitty) and drawing this pin-up girl. Pretty excited, as found out this place down by the Quay has a burlesque night once a month - I'm a big fan. Well, I'm a big fan when it's done well, let me put it that way. And the whole scene, it just seems so beautiful and glamorous and intoxicating, it has since I first saw Dita Von Teese. Some dancers can make such a simple gesture so elegant and sexy. Besides, stockings and stilettos are just plain hot.

Had the landlord come round a couple of hours ago with this painter, so they could assess the house. It was a teensy bit awkward (although I found it pretty funny) when they got to my room though - it's really tidy but I've got all these pictures (I have a habit of cutting out pictures and quotes and the such from newspapers, magazines, you name it, if they catch my eye) strewn all over the floor. The painter was rather amusing, sort of trying not to look TOO much at the half-naked Angelina Jolies and sexy women mixed in with these arty portraits, architecture and black and white photos. Wonder if the one this evening will be as amusing?

Oh, but great news - this really fed-up looking delivery guy shoved a box in my hands and ran off - my shoesies have arrived! They're cute, I love 'em; soft black hightops with neon rainbow splatters. The white laces are going to have to go though, I think. Going to have a look for some funky ones in Blue Banana with the girls next week.

Thought today was going to be pretty laid back. Man, was I wrong.

Went into work this morning, everything was fine. Had first day in the textiles department, nothing exciting happening. I was checking through 18th Century man waistcoats, if you must know. Thrilling.
Anyway, has been opressively sunny today and everyone seems far too happy. Went to eat my apple on the beach, but ended up sitting (all miserable-looking) in a weird bus-stop shack on the sea front. Very enjoyable though. Looking at the beautiful blue waters, clear skies and fat seagulls while being seperated from the rest of humanity by my little bus-stop-bubble. Didn't fancy being in the museum in the afternoon, so scrawled a little note and posted it through the front door. 'Sudden call', 'have to get back'. And then spotted, grinning like a loon in the sun at the prospect of getting home, by the woman I was meant to be working with. Whoops.

Got back home to find that I had not only missed the ParcelForce guys with my chocolate rabbit, but (oh, Fate, how you were cruel today) another package had been taken to the post collection place. And they were both on the opposite fucking sides of this goddamn town. Hour going off one way, to get back home and set off in the other bloody direction. But the worst bit was when I got there. The size of this parcel. Seriously, I thought my sister might have posted herself to me. So there I was, struggling all red and sweaty back home with a parcel twice the size of me, on the hottest day of the goddamn year. Joy of bloody joys. Got in to find one side of the rabbit had melted, and he is now a grotesque mutant chocolate puddle. I might as well have kicked the bloody thing home!

I think I momentarily hallucinated. I swear I almost walked into Ricky Gervais, closely followed by A's mother. It was weird.

Watching Godzilla. Eating far too much crap. Had a really lazy afternoon and got practically nothing more done today (why is it that I'm always pretty perky and proactive in the morning for, oh, an hour or so, but post-lunch I just melt into the sofa?).

Did write another review though, got my letter posted, did the I'll-be-a-good-daughter-and-ring-home-even-though-I-have-nothing-to-say-but-my-mother-needs-to-know-I'm-alive thing and even sat down with a text book. Even opened it. But then realised that I had something, anything, better to do and emailed the film museum. Would be nice to have a day or two a week to add to the work I'm doing right now, it's make things go a lot quicker. Just hoping I'm not going to take too much on before exams. Pah, almost managed to keep a straight face through that.

Too cute.
I bought this tray and cup with money that I probably don't have, and am just completely in love with them. Especially because the cup is so pointless and weeny. I have my amazingly chocolately hot chocolates in them.

The Amazingly Chocolately Hot Chocolate
Break up some Cadbury chocolate into a mug (this must be easter egg chocolate. Because it must) and pour some Sainsburys milk (the orange one because it's cheaper than the others and I refuse to buy the ridiculous marked-up price milk from the corner shop, who are also really mean and don't say hello to you when you're buying an emergency Boost chocolate bar after a late lecture) into a seperate mug. Zap in the microwave until they're both hot, but not so hot that the milk bubbles over and makes a disgusting, stinky mess that is impossible to clean up. Unless you're using someone else's microwave.
Mix together and stir madly, because the milk and chocolate are enemies and must be forced together by the will of the spoon. This sometimes takes quite a while. Pour into a mini cup (decorative smiley food is optional).
If it's your thing, add some mini marshmallows on the top and allow them to melt into gloopy mess. Yum yum.

It's true, Godzilla is pretty lame. I wonder if Matthew Broderick can actually act. Inspector Gadget suggests not.

As further proof of my apparent mental instability, I realise that I have gained an inappropriate sense of satisfaction this morning from writing out a 'To Do' list of chores and, for the first time in about two years, have been going through and doing them. Sourcing pleasure from cleaning the kitchen is truely perverted. I am a total genetic throwback and terrible feminist. I should probably become blonde and start taking an interest in boys.

Have also been writing a couple of reviews (finished one and am half way through another), so I should get that finished today. Aim to write at least 250 words for this creative writing project I'm working on (you can imagine how well that's going - two weeks and three failed starts). I have this total creative block when it comes to writing - I'll get these ideas and be totally invested in the whole concept, understand where it's going and who the people are, sit down and... suddenly getting a coffee is the most important thing in the world. This, of course, must be accompanied by Friends reruns, then the basic couple of hours mooching on the internet. It's a disease. A lazy slackers disease.

Other than the household chores, I have a letter to write, then better send it off with C's birthday card here. Oh, urgh, and I have to get some research done for this essay. I think I have about a week and a half until it's due in (actually, probably less than that), but it's a total mother bitch and is likely to take some actual effort. Kind of dreading going and picking up the last one that's just been marked though. 'Half-arsed' is being a little indulgent. 'Shite' covers it more appropriately.

Ah, off to drudgery I go, then.

Just got thinking; at what point does one term a crush a scary stalker-y obsession? Must we have a candlelit shrine of devotion, or hover creepily outside their back doors? Does the fact that I have more than one corporeal friend and a passable level of social acceptablity make me 'normal'?
One of my housemates counted over 25 pictures of Keira Knightley on my walls a while back. Okay, so I'm relatively pretentious and decorative in this kind of way, but even I find this a little weird. Should I don my non-paedo anorak and cast myself into the murky depths of delusional fantasising?

Watched Graham Norton last night and realised how much I am totally in love with Gillian Anderson. British, smart (so what if I think she is Scully), beautiful and gets hotter with age.
Back in happy little fantasy...

Argh, my head hurts. Not even Jonathan Ross' voice is making me feel better... oh no, especially when he decides to play Lily Allen on the radio.
I've just been finding out about Twitter. Don't tell anyone, but I might have started signing up before getting a grip on self. I'm such a pitiful anti-sheep. Something becomes popular, and I have to avoid it like a plague, because I don't want to do 'what everyone else is doing'. Shameful.

I back here at uni-Home on my own, completely lazing around today. I started work three days ago, surprisingly good. I mean, part of me will always want to be lying around here being bored and never seeing the sun, but it's rather enjoyable getting the train, hoping on the overpriced bus and doing something productive. Although I don't know if I'd want to work in a museum for ever. I don't think I'm cut out for the work thing.
I'm more of a monotonous, boring office-girl. It's bizarre, I suppose it's exactly the kind of thing I've tried my life to avoid; the horrible little cardboard cutout life. I shouldn't get a thrill from writing out already written reports in a structured form. It's perverted and wrong.
At my lunch breaks, I can just cross the road and be at the beach. Honestly, it's one of the nicest places and I couldn't be more grateful to work there actually. It's often misty, a twee little seaside village with pebbled beach, listening to the waves echoing off of the cliffs while I eat my sandwiches that I sat on on the train. Bliss.
They have two wonderful little charity shops too, that are so much cheaper than some others I've been in. Where else can you buy Chocolat, the entire works of Edgar Allan Poe and Aristocats on VHS for under 3 quid? Bloody genius.
Speaking of, I have spent so much recently, I think the terrible teenage-girl affliction of compulsive shopping has finally hit. At least I've stuck to my geekish roots and done a bit of it online. In a single week, I think I have bought... a little cup with a smiling ice-cream on it, Chocolat, Rocket Dog high-top shoes, 'Give Me Vodka' birthday card, The Works of Poe, the Strictly Come Dancing annual for my sister, Aristocats and Tipping the Velvet on DVD.
No food for a month.

Fantastic news though; I won a competition draw earlier this week. Can you please tell me, is there anything better than winning a giant chocolate rabbit and various sex toys?! I tell you, my dream has come true. I'll probably be raving about this when it arrives. Roll on, Monday.