aleas_iacta

Yet more quotes from the joy that is Dungeons and Dragons on a Wednesday night. I probably should have forgone roleplay tonight based on the ridiculous amounts of work I need to get done before tomorrow afternoon, but there it is. I would have missed out on these great examples of our occasional wit. And then you fine types would have to miss out on them as well.

There's a subtle theme this week - untintentional, sort of. I wonder if you can spot it.

( Holy ****, it's TIAMAT! )

More weird dreams. Another one involving weddings, with sidelines in disease and translation, and one about the main characters of the Narnia books becoming evil and burning each other alive. My mind is an upsetting place sometimes.

And now I must flee, because due to vast tracks of stupidity, I have about 17 hours to research and write a 2,500 word essay on the educational nature of Athenian Festivals. Wish me luck.

Well, without getting into the gory details, I've been angsting by candlelight in my room for the last few hours and in order to put myself in a better mood so I can get a few more hours' work in tonight, I'm going to bombard you all with more comedy genius from the awesomeness that is tabletop gaming.

Unfortunately there aren't too many from last night's Dungeons and Dragons session, by reason of the fact that it was FUCKING TERRIFYING and not largely a laughing matter. Why did I not previously know how well Tom does terrifying as a DM? It was DAMN impressive. Haven't been that scared since I last watched Long Time Dead (yeah, I know, I'm a wuss but I'm bad with horror movies, okay? Can we just move on please?). It was fantastic! But not really a MINE of genius quotes. There are a few though. The others come from the latest Eterna session.

( Comedy Genius This Way -> )

This is the first time all degree, I swear, that I've felt honest-to-god over worked. I mean there have been plenty of times when I had too much work to get done when it was totally my fault for leaving a bunch of things to the last minute, but right now I honestly feel that's a small part of the problem.

In a standard week, I'm meant to translate about 3 Martial poems, which EASILY take an hour a week.
Learn vocabulary, which takes an hour to itself to get it really properly in my head so it won't fall out again.
Learn new grammar, depends what it is. Sometimes I already know it, but when I don't that another two hours.

Read for the Augustus seminar - seriously, how does he expect normal people to read this much? Like, I don't think it's unreasonable that he gives us reading every work - I'm sounding like those people at school who acted as though it was totally unreasonable that they ever be expected to think about anything or read anything or concentrate on anything, and I don't mean to. But I honestly cannot read this much in less than about ten hours.

Seminar reading for Cities of Classical Greece - another ridiculous amount of reading which I almost always find I just cannot get through, even when I seriously try to apply myself to it.

Plus a dissertation which ought to be well underway by now and in fact has barely been started, a 2.500 word essay for Augustus and another one for Cities.

If I work solidly and give myself no time off at all until the end of term I still don't think I'll have caught up, and there's absolutely no way I could realistically do that. My brain just shuts down if I push it to do too much in one long slog.

So, the panic begins.

And Dale has officially sent out the email about elections. So I fucked that one up well and good.

Oh man, I'm not mature enough for this.

I'm currently appplying for a list of about 26 jobs. Some of them sound scarily grown-up. And my stomach feels like it's tying itself in knots just thinking about it. How do people get to the stage where they feel like they're real people who can actually apply for real world jobs? My sister has this problem, too, I know... which is why she's still living at home, unemployed at 28 years old. I love her to bits and wheatver she does or doesn't do with her life I think she's fantastic, but I can't live like that myself or I'll go mad but I'm just so scared that I can't function as a real, serious human being. Does everyone my age get that or am I just especially neurotic?

Ah well, back to the applications.

The last few days have been interesting, anyway.

Friday the 13th, far from being dread and terrifying, was absolutely fantastic. Having spent the whole of Thursday working my arse off and replacing sleep with coffee, I rocked the hell out of my seminar on Friday morning. It was awesome. I could answer, like, almost every question she asked! And I could blather on about things. Not as competently as I would have liked, 'cause quite a lot of the information sort of blurred into itself after a while, but it was still a great feeling. Really reminded me why I used to love school. And it should be an easy effect to recreate. I love being prepared for class. I really really love it. Like... Hermione Granger love it. So I'm going to do my best to work my ARSE off for the rest of term. People may not see a lot of me, outside class and Dungeons and Dragons. I have 5,000 words due, the first real Latin test and a lot of seminar reading and translation to do over the next two weeks. And then I need to do a blitz on reading for the dissertation before the end of term. I'm just hoping it can all turn out to be as interesting as Cities of Classical Greece turned out to be.

That, indeed, was not the end of the awesome Friday! I made it to the station totally in time to meet Laura and jump on the train – which was pretty awesome. I also get a kick out of not being late and missing trains! It's a thrill. Then, it was off to London! In the company of the dear Laura who I have not spent enough time with recently. It was joyous. And this, STILL, was not the best part. The best part was that our destination was a Paul & Storm and JONATHAN COULTON concert! At the Union Chapel in Highbury. Gorgeous little venue. Evening involved a half pony, half monkey monster, a new t-shirt for Nadia and Nick Lowe buying us dinner. Very awesome. Free food is always a good. We also discovered a pub called the Famous Cock. Yes, we're infantile. But you know it's a humourous name!

Saturday was also good. Andy, Jo and Catherine came on 'round to generally hang out and roleplay. So. Much. Fun. DAMN, do I miss playing those characters every week. Hopefully it can be a slightly more regular thing, now, Andy has a car. But I guess it'd be too expensive for him to drive over eeeevery week. Still, that was the most fun I'd had in a long, long time. And it was a fantastic roleplay session. Sid now firmly lives in my head again. Unfortinately, novel!Sid and Eterna!Sid are swiftly becoming irreconcileable, simply due to the extremely different natures of their supporting casts. But I love them both. Yeah, I was sad to see those guys go. It's still weird having them so far away these days.

Today was, generally, less brilliant than the rest of the very busy weekend. I got up at 6, thinking I needed to be back home by nine-ish. That wasn't going to happen, really... Basically, mum got me a ticket for this Creative Writing thing that was going down in Chorelywood. Sounded pretty good, though I didn't relish the getting up stupid early. I did, however, hung around in the rain waiting for the bus, got the bus, reached the station... only to find that not only was the next train not arriving until quarter past EIGHT, but that it was only going as far as Staines. Rail replacement buses were running between Staines and Twickenham. Leaving at 8:15, I wouldn't have had time for that journey by TRAIN, let alone bus. So, I rang mum, thinking she'd use the ticket herself and I could wander back up to the Green and sleep for a few more hours. But no, apparently she really wanted me to go, so she came to pick me up. That was nice, and I discovered a theme song for Sid while I was waiting (City at a Standstill by Liam Frost and the Slowdown Family, if you're interested. You're probably not.) and off I went back to Ricky. Got to the place in Chorelywood, only to find that the entire place was shut up and quiet. And well it should have been, because on actually checking the ticket – which I hadn't seen until this morning – it became clear that the Creative Writing thing had actually been the day before. x____X UNIMPRESSED. However, that did leave me free to go for a long old walk with Penny on the common. It was lovely except for the time I tried to run to let her stretch her legs and promptly fell on my arse. Stupid slippery ground. Grumble, grumble.

This afternoon, though, I went to Andrew and Meha's wedding!Which was very beautiful and very sweet and generally extremely enjoyable. I don't have a great deal to report about that. Other than it's general awesomeness. Discussed the philosophy of good, evil and arm wrestling with Jess and Jesper. Spilt mulled wine on my top. Built a tower of name cards... 'twas nice.

Aaaaaaand now I'm back in the Green thinking I should really either sleep or do some work. But it's hard to do either with the noise next door so I'll probably be listening to Men at Arms and writing about Sid.

In other news, I'm less than pleased with this room at the moment. Any time people are hanging out in the sitting room while I'm trying to sleep, work, write,read... it's like having loud people hanging out in the corridor right by your room. Or having people talking loudly on the landing. And I can't ask them not to, because it's the sitting room. It's the public domain and my housemates have a right to use it. It's not like I don't entertain my friends in there. But it's a right pain in the arse. Makes it extremely difficult to concentrate. And now they're immitating people being given electric shocks when grinding their teeth... sigh.

And I'm uncertain whether or not I want to go to Games Soc tomorrow night. I'm considering just taking the stuff along and then camping in the library for three hours. I have had absolutely no sign that Ben got my email and if he hasn't checked his email (I only had his college address) then I don't want to be in the same room as him if I can help it.

Some more quotes from the delight that is Wednesday Night Dungeons and Dragons! A spark against the gloom and doom of my recent posts. That said, this is the first session I've actually managed to die... twice. Having failed to set off my daily even when I'd waited all encounter to use it on the dragon instead of his dragonborn minions. And of all the nerves! Tom threw Biscuits at us! How rude is that?? Poor l'il Biscuits, where did he go wrong? We tried to bring him up so well! And to his credit, Tom made some almost negligible effort to pull the dragon's punches when he realised how much it was killing us, but it didn't change the fact that it was a level 6 solo artillery monster with two level 5 soldiers backing it up. Against five level 3s. >.>

And I have new minis. I discovered this awesome site called The Order of Initiative which sells minis starting from about 50p. I was getting in on that action! So we didn't have to use dice for mobs for once.

( In the Process of Being Killed By a Dragon... )

And for any of you that check the time stamp on entries, yes, I am up obscenely early, and, no, I can't explain it. Life is just weird like that. Folded my clothes and put them away, considering going back to sleep for a bit, because I'm still too tired to do anything ACTUALLY productive. Also, I have discovered a problem with the delicious things that are English muffins... I can't eat them without Oscar Wilde via Rupert Everett's voice going round in my head. "Well, I can hardly eat muffins in an agitated manner... the butter would most probably get on my cuffs!"

And Dale is a funny bean. XD

Okay, fuck the library. Didn't go. Instead, spent a highly cheering half hour on the phone with charamei, feeling generally a lot better about life. And now I don't have time to get there before it closes. So tempted just to say fuck it to the seminar work and NaNo for the rest of the night, but that's probably a bad plan. Instead I shall ransack the internet for a version of the Life of Antony that DOESN'T cut out at a random point and do a bit of work, THEN say to hell with it and NaNo. Or watch a movie. Or something. Thursday, I have decided, is going to be a very, very worky day. If any of you see me online during Thursday, please slap me and tell me to get back to work. Because I have fuck loads of stuff I need to get done and it's going to take me forever. And this weekend is already packed with stuff. Also, I love the subject of this post. Found it on Wikiquote.

 To take a short break from bitching about Ben, I'm going to rant about work for a while. Man, why can I not have any place on the internet that  doesn't eventually become a forum for be to whine about all the crap that happens to me (which also happens to everyone else on the planet and you don't see them spending all their energies complaining...)? 

Before I got caught up in the Ben mess again, I was so going to do some work this evening. Not only have I done nothing, but I've managed to wait until 11.5 hours before the seminar to find out what I had to do for Augustus tomorrow. Well done, Nadia. You has a smrrt. Wait, did we say 'a smrrt'? We meant 'noodles for brains'. Fucking genius. Not only do I have to read a huge fuck-off chunk of Plutarch and answer like a million questions on it (one of which looks really unsettling like it's meant to be produced as an essay - that can't be right, it really can't, but that's how it looks), but the links I've found to this text (which I'd have with me if I hadn't assumed the only Plutarch I'd need from my collection this year would be the Rise and Fall of Athens) NEVER get to the end. For some undiscoverable reason they all cut out mid-sentence at some point. The universe must be having such a laugh with this one. So, I'm going to have to get dressed again, NOT wash my hair as I had planned, and trek off back to the library, then trek back through the Green in the dark on my own. I am so angry with myself right now it's just untrue. Damn it's a good thing there aren't any sharp things around. 

And now my iPod's spazzing out on me. No, wait, that's my entire laptop going nuts. And I was foolish enough to think today would be better...

I sent the e-mail to Ben. Maybe the whole thing'll blow up in my face. I don't know. I don't even care anymore. The last twenty minutes have just sapped me of giving a shit about anything. Fuck you, mood swings. Fuck you.

So, I've written an e-mail to Ben about what happened. I'm considering BCing it to my personal advisor, but I'm not sure. On the one hand, I think it's important that he not be allowed to get away with stuff like this, but at the same time I don't want to get someone into more trouble than they deserve. Someone's suggestion was to keep a copy of the e-mail and if he doesn't leave me alone then show it to her and say, like, "Even after this he hasn't quit it." But I'm not sure I want to leave it to get to that point. I don't know what to do about that. I guess I'll jut think about it.

So, I've written this e-mail. I was hoping you guys'd have a look and see if you think it hits the right note.

( The E-Mail )

( Edited, with suggestions from Ali and Catherine )

IwillnotcryinthemiddleofgamessocietyIwillnotcryinthemiddleofgamessocietyIwillnotcryinthemiddleofgamessocietyIwillnotcryinthemiddleofgamessociety...

Where's Anya when you need someone to act as if the sky's falling down because a guy groped a girl uninvited?

MAN, I'm angry with this evening. First of all, Neil, who has a mental condition of some kind that makes him a startlingly painful conversationalist, a person of generally irritating habits and weird spasmodic hand gestures, and someone who should NOT be left alone with my laptop, has fucked over the settings on Stepmania and I can't work out how to put them back. Next, Ben. -insert angry, angry growls and crying- Last week, he was walking home in my direction. And I was not particularly comfortable with this arrangement because I like walking by myself and I always found him fairly creepy to be alone with. That was BEFORE he decided a) to 'accidentally' grope my arse and hope I wouldn't care and b) bite my neck when he hugged me goodnight. WTF. NOT APPROPRIATE. NOT FUNNY, NOT CUTE, NO MATTER WHETHER YOU ADD THE WORD 'NOM' OR NOT!!! CREEPY AS FUCK. I should point out that this guy is about seven foot tall and must weigh twenty stone if he's a pound. He's formiddable. NOT the kind of guy you want uninvited advances from. I told him I really didn't approve and asked him not to do it again. He laughed, but appeared to get the idea. He did, however, kiss my cheek before he left. Not the kind of friendship I have with ANYONE of the male persuasion, least of all him. Shudder.

Then, this week. I was sitting and struggling with the dance mat settings which I have still not managed to fix, when the following exchange takes place. It's simpler without dialogue tags.

Ben: -comes up behind me and grabs me- Rape!
Me: That's seriously not funny.
Ben: Rape is always funny!
Me: No... it's not.
Ben: What about hugs? -hugs, bites neck with accompanying creepy noises!-
Me: Oh my god, that's insanely creepy, get the fuck off! -spazzes!-
Ben: Uh... yeah, you're clearly stressed. -let's go-

Yes, Ben, I AM fucking stressed. But that is not WHY you should get the fuck off. That FACT that you need to get the fuck off me is WHY I'm stressed.

Seriously, part of me is just curled up glowering disapprovingly at the part of me that's ready to burst into tears, going, "You know he didn't mean any harm and it's not like he did anything that bad. It's not like he actually hurt you in any way. And you're in a room full of people, not stuck on your own with him down an alley or anything." But the sad part that spends its time talking to Anya feels ludicrously mistreated. Annnnd I'm actually starting to cry and attracting attention from the acknowledged perv of Games Soc, Chris. I want out of here, now. And I want to never have to goto fucking Monday evening Games Soc again. Dale even offered to hold elections for another secretary, but I can't be that much of a failure TWO years in a row! If I'm going to be that fail, I might as well just kill myself now and admit I'm never going to see anything through ever, including life in general.

4166 on day 7. NOT the best start ever, but I'm improving day by day. I have not yet given up hope.

"I hope you're not doing that novel thing..." Great to have the parental support, isn't it?

In other news, the weather is rotten but not bad enough to be interesting. I am cold and missing my hot water bottle. My puppy is as gorgeous and wonderful as ever. Home is... duller than I remembered. I have started deciding what to buy people for Christmas to save time and stress nearer the time. If I can afford it, I'm going to order as much of it as I can before the end of November so I don't have to freeze myself stupid in queues at the shopping centre and can get everything ready well before time. Going to be a good year for Christmas, I'm thinking.

As it gets to this time of year, though, I am struck by the probability that I am, once more, going to be alone for New Year. The last two years I was even technically involved with someone, they both just happened to be at the other end of the world/country. Ah well. A lot can happen in two months, I guess. If the last two months have taught me anything, I suppose it's that.

Damn, I didn't mean to get all emo in this post. Oh well.

Aunt just arrived bringing Haribo sour cherries. I wonder if there's any way I can persuade her just to not bring me sweets. I'm really not that much of a sweet tooth compared to the old days. I've still got sour cherries in my room that she gave me in September. >.> I wonder if those are still edible.

Mum wants my input on what to write on a slab to put over Dad's ashes. Am I alone in thinking that, five years on, it's a little past the point? I suppose she feels differently about it. If I'd spent nearly thirty years of my life with someone I suppose I wouldn't stop thinking about that sort of thing after a paltry 5 years, either. Still. I have no idea what help I can possibly be. I suggested "Ave atque vale" (Hail and farewell - Catullus' epitaph for his brother) but she pointed out that he wouldn't have appreciated having Latin on his gravestone. She has a point, but it didn't make me feel any more kindly towards him, or more inclined to come up with things to put on his chunk of rock. Personally, I don't think he'd have been remotely bothered about having a chunk of rock over his ashes. And if I'm wrong, I probably didn't know him well enough to comment on what he would have wanted on said chunk of rock. If you want something personal to me, I want ave atque vale. If not, you're asking the wrong person.

Anyway, I'd better return to the hard graft of the novelist before time rolls on and I have to abandon the noble work in order to make a start on an Augustus essay.

Quotes! Quotes galore!

( Games Soc: the Next Generation )

( Hallow'een with the Departed )

Enjoy!

Bed? Check.
Snuggly blanket? Check.
Hot water bottle? Check.
Socks? Check.
Hoodie? Check.
Coat? On stand-by.

Meet your cost-effective, environmentally friendly death, Winter!!! Mwahahahahaha...

( Oh, you wanted a 'real' post? )

My usual response is increasingly becoming pseudo-science. I blame the Big Bang Theory and XKCD, primarily. So, I was just trying to work out an equation for roughly how long I'll feel this crap, but to be honest the only conclusion my available data can provide is 'until I meet someone else'. Eh, call me crazy but I'm dissatisfied with this. Ah well, nothing I can do about it, I guess.

Sorry for that emo jaunt to nowhere. On a final emo, the great invention of 'track shuffle' still knows exactly how to kick me when I'm down.

In other news, GUITAR.

Yes, folks, I have made a brand new, bright blue addition to my ever-growing family of six-stringed babies. Her name is Lucy, short for Lucretia. Bid her welcome, all. She's a Takamine G series electro-acoustic and has just a beautiful sound, that goes particularly well with my song-writing style. I tested out like five in the shop and there was an Ibanez which came in an even more glorious colour - blue/black burst - but the sound just wasn't quite as lovely and crisp, so Lucy it had to be. Already started writing songs on her. There was another Tak. that also had a very nice sound, but it was the same size and a very similar sound to my original acoustic; I figured I could mess around with that and pick-ups for a lot less than buying a new guitar, so since I wanted a new guitar I should go for something with a different sound. Made me happy. Can't wait to plug it into my amp, but alas all my leads are currently at uni for the simple reason that they were in my guitar case rather than stored somewhere sensible like, say, within 20 miles of my amp. XD

I was so pleased that this userpic happened to look sillily like James... Kinda wondering whether to get rid of it now. Well, it wouldn't be this time of year without something going wrong, I guess. In some ways, I'm not as messed up by this as I expected to be... In other ways, it hurts more than it probably should. As rejections go, that was about one of the kindest I imagine it's possible to receive. (N.B. Laura, don't you dare feel bad for meddling! If I could pick a year's worth of the best months of my life, those two would be right in there. Thank you for your hand in making them happen.)

Let's move on to happier topics, shall we? I might be buying a new electro-acoustic guitar today. Which, I hardly think I need to elaborate, will be very very shiny indeed. Alas, I'm not going to be able to go all the way to London for it this weekend, so I'll be looking in the music shop in Watford. For all that it's a small place, it's got a reasonably good selection of guitars, so hopefully I'll find the one I want. If not, no harm done. I'll just hang on and try to wander down to Charing Cross some other weekend. I'd love to have it by the next open mic at the White Bear, though. I'm really liking that place. Lovely crowd of people and a few really entertaining musicians. Anyone know if the open mic at the Monkey's survived the Summer holiday? I have a horrible feeling it might not have done. And that'd be sad. Of course, much the simplest way to find out would be to go in and ask, but -shudder- that'd mean, y'know, talking to people.

Alas, what with one thing (James) and another (illness), I did not make it to the Battle of the Bands for Games Soc last night, but as it turned out, it was a total bust. No one showed up, so it was just Dale and Martin playing against each other for half an hour before packing up and coming home. I must say I'm pretty irritated about that, having spent a good two hours of my week making posters for the damn thing.

Here's hoping the Halo tournament gets a better turn out - apparently people have been signing up for it, so we should be alright. I'm kinda hoping my presence isn't require for this. I can't honestly say I'm thrilled by the idea of sitting and watching people play Halo all evening.

I got a short story idea the other day while cleaning my room. Indeed, I cleaned my room. Just needs hoovering now. And get this... the story is set in the REAL WORLD. How freaky is that? I think this idea got lost and wandered in from the street, only to find itself trapped, disoriented and alone in my head, surrounded by dragons, elves and wizards standing around poking it with sticks. No wonder it's proving kinda tricky to get onto paper.

Anyway, more about that later. I need to get dressed to receive my mother and darling pup. Later all.

I believe this pretty much sums it up. XD

I think I needlessly started making notes about 30 chapters before I needed to. Chapter 28-90 or 58-90? It's a big difference. It's times like this I wish I knew ANYONE in my Augustus class.

I have just been informed that Halloween is going to be even more epic than I'd previously realised. It will be a night of hanging out with badly-missed friends. CAN'T WAIT. Also, I can't believe how reading week has been sneaking up on me. It's unnerving. Not because I'm not looking forwards to a week off class, but because it means we're nearly half way through the term and my work is in a hideous state of un-done-ness. Especially my dissertation. There are no two ways about it. Works must be done more. x_x

That said. I've been in Crosslands staring glumly at Appian's Civil Wars (and making useless notes on the wrong chapters) for like two hours now and I am going to IFIS to watch Blade Runner. Woot.

Also, I keep getting the sensation that my throat's closing up. Anyone got any ideas beyond allergies? Which I don't think it is, because there does not seem to be a common denominator in the ocurrances.

Man, I am seriously loving this song. Although, I have to say, without a hint of bias, that it's much better when James sings it. No offence, Liam Frost. This song, by the way, in case I'm on something else by the time I come to fill in the circumstances of this post, is She Painted Pictures by Liam Frost and the Slowdown Family. It's loooovely but, as I said, inferior to boyshape's version.

I'm supposedly working, right now. Brought my netbook to the library for this purpose. However, I have not yet readjusted to the joys of having a machine that connects reliably to the internet, so I have so far been mostly enjoying MSN and the internet, as well as listening to music through my new headphones. Any minute now I will get right down to some real work, make some notes on Athenian burial customs or something.

I'm starting to feel very behind on my dissertation. I'm really going to have to get my arse in gear and get organised, otherwise I'm just not going to fit in all the stuff I should be doing. Nominally in this cause, I've just downloaded a Sunbird calendar and entered my essay deadlines on it. When I get home, I'll go through my paper calendar and put them on there too.

Something my counsellor suggested was planning my daily schedule the day before. So, just getting a day planner sheet and blocking out the time the evening before, so that I've got quite a lot of flexibility but still have a good idea of what I need to spend time on. That sounded eminently sensible to me, because I've tried rigid routine and I've tried just knowing what I've got to do but not having any particular schedule to do it by, and neither's worked for more than a day or so. Maybe I just need more self-discipline - anyone got any idea where I can get some of that? Otherwise, this last idea might work. Here's hoping. If not, I'll just have to try something else. I'm going to try to be really positive this year and stop trying to give up at every little setback. Woo for Nadia's improved mental attitude.

As for other positive things, my birthday was absolutely amazing. Best birthday ever, maybe. I got loooots of wonderful presents, far more than I deserve; I feel so very spoilt. My aunt bought me a netbook. I know, what the hell? I did not need one! But now I have it I am absolutely in love with it. It's white and beatiful and so incredibly useful. For instance, right now, my normal laptop is being used at Games Soc for the dance mat, while I sit here in Bedford Library, complaining about the ridiculously high temperature and boring you poor people with details of my life over the last few days. I spent the first five or six hours with it just downloading usable versions of the programs it came with and Windows Live/iTunes etc. I have now produced a useable working environment. I'm loving writing on it. A combination of that and the writing course I went on last weekend seems to have really broken the block. The novel's still going pretty slowly, but nowhere near as slowly as it was before. NaNo should really help to push it forwards too.

Back to the subject of my birthday, for a moment, the actual night of my birthday was smegging fantastic. Boyshape took me to the Idlewild concert which I realised a couple of months back was on my birthday - their only London date of the tour - and was already sold out when I noticed it. That was such an incredible awesome surprise. They were fantastic. Maybe the best I've seen them play since the very first concert of theirs I went to, so that made for a pretty awesome night. Kinda killed my already rather dodgy throat, singing at the top of my voice to most of the songs (only sad thing was that I hadn't adequately memorised the new album yet but that was hardly a very significant drawback), and I was so incredibly knackered on the way back - kept falling asleep mid-sentence and dreaming bits of conversation about Mario Kart which totally weren't in the version of the conversation James was having. XD Hehe.

I suppose I'd better actually get on with some work now, since that was what I came in here to do, technically, and I have to go clear up after Games Soc in about half an hour. -cough- Ah well, I suppose I could always do some more work at home. After all, I am reasonably young (yeah, I've been forced to admit that, despite my fears, 21 does not feel much different to 20) and a student with no class until 4 pm tomorrow, so I don't exactly need to go to bed as soon as I get in. As though I would. Hurr hurr hurr.

That's the other great thing about this netbook (which, by the way, is called WallE - or occasionally Eve/Evey, depending on whether it seems more masculine or feminine at the time - yes, my computer's gender alternates, your point?): having no CD drive and with my not wanting to clog the little darling up with lots of extraneous programs and files means that there isn't TOO much apart from the internet on it to distract myself with when I should be working. As this post shows, that's quite enough of a distraction really, but even so... It should help a bit.

Here's to a, hopefully, productive, inspired and reasonably academic 22nd year of existence.

On Retardare

A: How has it (your birthday) been so far?
B: Mostly spent battling retarded seminar sources.
A: We don't use that word.

*deeeeeeep breath* Okay, here is where Nadia causes the free world to curse her name, because there are several things I can't bear about this particular dialogue.

The base fact of the matter is that, if people find the hijacking of the word 'gay' as an insult offensive (I should point out that I am one of these people), then I find the hijack of words with perfectly logical roots because they also refer to specific mental or physical conditions equally offensive. Well, okay, maybe 'offensive' is the wrong term. But I am deeply distressed by it. The basis of this aggravation seems, to me, to be thus: if you could find me any sense in which the word 'gay' has a root in stupidity, abnormality or plain irritation, I would allow its archaic usage. If you accept that it can mean both 'happy/bright/cheering/whimsical' and 'homosexual', then it would be absurd to deny its other definitions. But the word 'gay' HAS not such origins. Therefore, one can only assume that its usage as an insult is born out of absorbed if not overtly hostile homophobia, quod erat demonstrandum (QED, for the non-Classicists). This leads me on to the defense of my using the word 'retarded' - gerunds and gerundives flying all over the place, today; to look at its Latin root, retardare, it literally means 'to hold back, to hinder, to delay', which leads to its use to describe certain conditions of delayed development. This being borne in mind (oh gods, another gerundive - although actually I think Latin would structure that as an ablative absolute), I am perfectly vindicated in my usage. The particular seminar sources were indeed delayed, hinder and held back. Not only that, but they were inflicting this same fate upon me.

To further my point, these original meanings - which I assure you are not just the ramblings of a Cicero-bashing Classicist (they still appear in modern dictionaries under 'retarded') - having negative connotations themselves! Surely, if anything, it's use of the word 'retardation' to describe the people who HAVE conditions involving a decreased rate of mental development is the one we should be weeding out, not its use in everyday conversation to describe things that won't be insulted no matter how much abuse I hurl at them.

I think I've flogged that dead donkey enough. Before PETA come down on me for use of THAT phrase - and yes, I'm aware that I'm starting to sound dangerously like Jeremy Clarkson here, I shall move on to the OTHER bone I have to pick with Person A's response.

Hypocrisy.

No matter the fact that I disapprove of your methods, I greatly admire your attempts to make the world a better, less judgemental, less insulting place for everyone. However, with that statement you have just upscuttled your own mission, because that phrase ('we don't use that word') has the effect of making ME feel alienated, belittled and condescended to, and now I'm trying to think of a way to end this sentence with something other than a preposition. Success. <- fragment.

Your use of the term 'we', since I just used the word and therefore am clearly not included IN said first person plural, gives an instant impression of division. Furthermore, the phrase as a whole carries with it conotations of parental guidance and instruction in civilisation. Am I less civilised than you because I choose to define words differently? Are you intellectually superior to me and rubbing it in my face by assuming a parental role and treating me like a child? I seem to remember something about the time when people used to treat African Americans like that. I think there was some kind of hooha about it. Oh yeah, the Civil Rights Movement, I remember now. Now, I'm NOT going so far as to say that having this phrase used at me is in anyway equivalent to the treatment which sparked the civil rights movement, but it is the same in a few essentials, which I believe I've already set out for you.

Another point, on the topic of hypocrisy: the terms 'idiot', 'imbecile' and 'moron' used to be specific categories of mental retardation, relating to certain IQ brackets. Would you like us all to edit those out of our vocabularies as well? Because the fact is, every insult has some basis on an actual condition of some variety. You may say that a world without any insults would be a nicer place to live, and maybe it would be, but it would also be a world without freedom of expression. George Orwell's 1984 demonstrates the attempt to eradicate concepts by eradicating the word for them. Is that what we're aiming for here? I sincerely hope not.

Essentially, I value my right to free speech and, yes, I consider that my right to offend if necessary, but that's not actually the issue here. The issue is that perfectly ordinary words should not be hog-tied and wrestled out of out vocabularies because of some slightly unsavoury connotations, particularly when they are not meant in anyway as insults to whoever those connotations might involve. Also, I think people need to be clearer about which usage they want changed. I think, in this case, at least, that they're missing the mark pretty badly.

Feel free to comment on this. Flame me, if it's your wish, but it's something I've given a lot of thought to, so you'll have to be quite convincing to change my mind. You have been warned. Thanks for reading.

Well, hasn't happened so far, but we've got the whole day ahead of us, so let's not rule anything out too hastily!

More on this when I've experienced more of my birthday than letting the dog out (got a Happy Birthday lick, though) and struggling with retarded seminar materials. =D

I may or may not be listening to DDR songs on loop... Any thoughts on what this will do to my brain? I'll let you know which ones were right after some significant scientific study. Or something.

Murgle. I think I may have caught Laura's hamthrax... (AKA Swine Flu -dramatic overture-). Yes, I'm probably going to die a horrible horrible death, but at least I'll be doing it in the company of my dog and a bunch of writers, because in a few short hours (after the seminar I am DEFINITELY missing due to illness) I am off to the Cheltenham Literature Festival. Or Lechery Festival, as we came to name it yesterday. And this year, although there weren't really any talks I wanted to go to, what there IS is a two day creative writing course. Which should be frickin' awesome. I'll let you guys know how it goes when I get back.

In other news, I will 21 in just one short week. It's not right, man, it's not right! Which means, among other things, that I will be legally able to drink alcohol when I get invited to my friends Emily and Cal's wedding (unlike the bride and groom - mega funniez), that my age will be divisible by 7 again just like when I was 14, and - if you'll permit me an Oxford comma - that I will have to start being responsible and acting like a grown-up. ...hang on, a second. -strangles the alien that momentarily took control of her brain stem- Let me rephrase that last point. Which means that, under no circumstances will I start being responsible and acting like a grown-up! There, that's better.

Man, I gotta go be productive. I've been hooked on a D&D rts for the last... embarrassing number of hours.