Wow, this is turning into something somewhat humungous…
This is a collection of bits and pieces I’ve been writing up, probably over the last couple of weeks, but never got round to posting. A little edited, here and there, but otherwise, unchanged.
So back to writing that paper that’s due in tomorrow...
- I met a lovely artist yesterday, called Pandora Money. What a fantastic name.
- I joined the Royal Institute! YAY! But am miffed that one of the lectures I most want to go to is in damned Manchland...have so far been to Science of Beauty and Evolution of Female Promiscuity, and missed All Flesh is Grass. Most looking forward to more! If you're a Londoner with even a vague and passing interest in science/popular science, join!
- Bought a polaroid camera! Well, actually, it's a Fuji one, but it's an instant. It huuuuge (I thought it would be 2/3 the size it is) I feel like I'm carrying around a baby. Or a quite-hard loaf of bread. I was carrying a quite-hard loaf of bread the other day, too...
- Reading week over...and much piling-up of coursework. Much! The ethological field study about which I had no clue is possibly the worst paper I’ve ever written...compromised for time and stuff. Now I have to write a journalistic article about whether or not animals have semantic language. Then after I’ve handed that in tomorrow, I have to decide what to write my next essay on…then decide on a topic for my dissertation...*wail*
- Must find time to schedule in eating, sleeping, washing, grooming, etc etc
Eid! Well, was a fortnight ago, but didn’t get around to posting properly
The Shadowburn-fastery was really interesting. I hope everyone who participated got something out of it. .gif) (don’t go revive that thread or you’ll be lynched for thread necro)
(It’s remarkable how far pretty clothes and sparkly dangly earrings can go towards making you feel so elegant, if not full-out pretty. And dancy!  )
The Quandary of Pretty Girls
...is that they have an offers-per-day average far higher than the population average, and significantly different from their plainer counterparts, as demonstrated by this graph.
In order to help said pretty girls deal with aforementioned problems, we at Instinct Inc. say...
- Don't lend your lighter to every fool that asks for it. Particularly when said fools migrates from the distant pole of the cafeteria to ask you.
- Stop smiling.
- Wear stiletto heels. Sharp, pointy ones. Incredibly handy things. Or maybe that's foot-y?
- Don't check out accoster's footwear, as gives impression of blushing bashfulness. Tell 'em to go fishing, instead.
- If you are with friends, the moment he turns his back, break into undignified giggles that would be embarrassing in any other situation.
- Find lots of other pretty girls to congregate with. That'll scare 'em off. Unless they react in manner of deer in season and consider you a harem, instead That's when it stops being a good idea.
- Lord Blackfist - a leading expert in the field - suggests the wearing of a ring, strategically placed on that finger, yo.
- Also suggested by Lord Blackfist, is the wearing of baggy clothes, "this usually helps for some reason. I don't know why," he says.
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Is there anybody who can tell the difference between Busted and McFly? And this new lot, 'V' and Freefaller? They're all the same I'm certain there's a machine in a subterranean plant in Newcastle where they produce such young men, much like bottles in a bottle factory...woe, woe is us.
There's something very disturbing about all those women, too - the ones giving out the awards [oh, this is the Smash Hits Poll Winners Party awards thingy?]...something about too much leg. It looks oddly unnatural. I haven't really seen legs since I left school (my all-girls school was famous for its (lack of) length of skirt). Just...nobody seems to wear anything shorter than just-above-the-knee.
Actually, I can see why.
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In the midst of ethology coursework-panic, last weekend, my phone decided to spontaneously wipe itself. Goodbye, 200+ numbers and emails and events and addresses that I didn't have stored anywhere else! Was devastated. Have since been told that "info lost on phones is irretrievable - it's not like a computer." I've replaced around half...but the ones that only I have? It's not a matter of losing numbers, it's losing people...people that I'd met in random places and kept in touch with, people....people!
*devastates*
That'll teach me to preen about my ringtones being better than a toy phone's...
And now, the exciting and girly-pink phonebook that my small sibling got me, is being used properly. And everything is being written up in it. Here's a tip: if there's anybody's number you value, back it up somewhere else. With paper and ink. Or graphite, if it takes your fancy.
Aaa-aand...*cough*...anybody who reads this: if I have your number and haven't re-abducted it from you yet, would be much obliged if you'd allow its re-kidnappery...
And then...I bought a new phone (cheap, functional, not too ugly) (for various reasons) but I can't bring myself to use it...I lub my old phone...feel muchly attached to it...dun wanna abandon it 
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I love the City wintering, at night…the air tastes crisp and somehow cleaner (it’s London, yo...diesel yummy). Somerset House is so beautiful in the dark, and with the ice rink, it’s like being in faerieland – the music, the ice, the whirling skirts and indigo sky and smiling eyes…*sigh* Walking across Waterloo Bridge, at the same time, is like an atmospheric opposite…it’s like being in the belly of the night, and you can feel the river roiling, so close to you.
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Was having a lovely dream this morning ‘bout somebody I love very much, that we’d been misunderstanding each other over silly things…and then my sister collapsed on me, and I woke up and was tipped out of bed. Had milliseconds of blissful happy, before realising it was only a dream that couldn’t be. Naturally, everything went into denial mode, so with eyes staying determinedly shut, I crawled back into bed trying to forget the world was real, for another hour.
Didn’t really work, yo. Feel like I haven’t acquainted with my bed for months. I love you, oh resting-place for weary head!
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Met a lubbly bubbly yummy philosophanderer (via our darling Bryoninny, called Hell’s Bells (take that for a funky name), and the PINK REVOLUTION IS NIGH. We welcome anybody with a proper respect for da pink.
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The endearing thing about Bridget is that she’s apparently an almost complete airhead – and then she has these moments of utter lucidity..."you won’t even muster the strength to ask me to stay"...something that I’ve been thinking about a lot in the last few months…if someone is that important to you…do you let them walk away? I think...you get to a point where what you want, what you need, what is important to you, means so much that it outweighs your self-respect – not pride – but the sense that stops you from debasing yourself for anything regardless of the price. I’m not sure how much this works for material possessions, but for someone you love…if they’re about to walk away from you, will you stop them? Would you do absolutely anything as long as they stayed? I used to think that that was a selfish thing to do...but...if you have something that is that precious, that special to you, keeping it is almost imperative. The finding of treasures is so rare, that treasure once found is to be cherished forever. If you can let it go, then maybe you never deserved it in the first place, maybe you were never worthy. If you let it go...you’ll never even know.
Maybe one of the reasons that Miss Jones is so successful because people see themselves in her…like Shazzer/Tom/Jude combination…I have one of those They’re fantastic and I love them, my crisis committee. It’s actually a tad disturbing how similarly we operate to S/T/J/B Although you know it’s really bad when you get midnight texts saying, "think tom’s advice re: daniel."
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Aha!
I’m now allowed to post the real reason for posting this post now!
*has just received awaited text from our favourite Indian...*
So at this moment...right now...Burnout is downstairs, in his sister’s apartment. Getting (we hope) the surprise of his life...
If we’re really lucky, he’ll come back when it’s over and tell us about it.
I’d like to take the opportunity to thank everyone who took part. Have no idea yet what he thinks, but I was overwhelmed with all the lovely things and messages (and chocolate) and photos will be available soon, to all those who took part.
It was one of the most amazing craft projects I’ve undertaken so far (and I’m rubbish at arty things, yo), and in the end it came out so well, we had trouble (big time) letting the damn thing go...
Burn’s mum rocks
Catharsis, yo.
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Come to think of it... it's felt the same since I was about 21. Does that mean I'm done "growing up"? I hope so. I may get grayer and wrinklier as time goes on but I'll still be a kid at heart.
