Happy New Year

As the more astute may have noticed, a new year has now sluggishly descended upon us like a really bad hangover*, which incidentally is the way that most people choose greet the advancement of this particular unit of time following on from their antics of the previous night which tend to be variations on the theme of getting absolutely rotten drunk and slurring along out of tune to Auld Lang Syne, which would cause any more respectable, sober people nearby to groan if indeed more respectable, sober people actually existed on New Years Eve.

Once the majority of the country has managed to >TAKE BEUFFERED ANALGESIC, and the room has stopped spinning uncontrollably and we are all able to keep our stomach contents on our inside, then people tend to turn to one of the more popular traditions surrounding New Years, which is that of writing out lists of anything and everything that could possibly be done in an effort to somehow ensure that life this coming year will somehow be more fufilling, or at the very least more bearable, than it was last year. I am, of course, talking about that time honored institution known as New Years Resolutions.

By their nature, all new year resolutions will be impossible to keep which raises the question why so many people bother making them in the first place, but allow me to assure you all that this is ok, because everybody else is doing it, and if everyone else is doing something, then it must be ok. In addition, New Years Resolutions as a rule are uninventive and as cliched as you could possibly get without seriously doing damage to the nature of space time. So, in an effort to do something different, whilst at the same time conforming to what everybody else is doing, I would like to present you with my list of resolutions for 2006.

My 2006 New Year Resolutions

1. Loose weight. Because it isn't a proper set of New Years Resolutions if you don't include this somewhere on it at least once.
   
2. Put on weight. Because assuming that I am somehow successfull with resolution 1, then I would be left dangerously underweight.
   
3. Drink more. If people make resolutions in order to make their life a better one, then refusing themselves things that they enjoy seems a rather funny way of going about it to me. I intend to increase my alcohol consumption, as not only will this make my life a happier one, but it will also be one resolution I'll actually be able to keep.
4. Practice playing guitar more and become a famous international rock star. Because every list of resolutions needs to have something so utterly overblown and ambitious that it will be impossible to achieve barring a miracle.
5. Start a new hobby. Because hobbies are meant to enrich our lives, aren't they? Personally, I've always wanted to try my hand at extreme origami (like normal origami, except it is performed whilst jumping out of a plane).

And there we have it, a complete set of New Years Resolutions that could compete with the best of them. Naturally I intend to forget about all of these before January is out, but that isn't a problem since once February gets here I will befocusingg most of my efforts on feeling bitter towards valentines day and being cynical about that instead.

__________
* You may have also noticed that I am in fact 5 days late in realising this fact. I would like to counter this by invoking the ancient rite of STFU. ¬_¬

See you in Hell...

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Fifth Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test



So now you all know where to fin me in the afterlife. }:-)

Well, now the excitement of christmas day has died away and I have made quite a fair bit of damage on the christmas food supply, even if I did discover in the process that my stomach doesn't quite seem to stretch like it's used to. I would say that I have New Years to look forward to, but I rarely do anything at New Years anyway, probably because I'm still too bloated from raiding the christmas chocolates. I suppose that I should probably learn something from that, but I forget exactly what it is. Apart from that, not a grat deal is happening to me right now; saw family for the past week which was cool, but nothing thw world would be interested in reading about.

Anyway, enough about me, and onto someone else entirely (you know who you are :-P ). She's someone I've known for what is now only just over 2 years, although I would swear that it seems much longer than that, and someone who has been a good friend throughout that time who has been around to listen when I have been going through some difficult times, and she still talks to me despite me whinging at her loads in the past. She has a sense of humour which is indeed humourous and good (muff), and she always seems to have some words of consul to give to friends, far better than I am able to give at any rate, and is an all round good friend and person, who I know is going through a spot of trouble right now (I have a talent for understating things, dont I?), and I wish I could offer better advice, bu all I can say is keep going and stick at things and I hope they work out for the best, which I'm sure they shall.

Heres to you. :-)

Christmas

Christmas passed relatively well, I feel, and I now sit here typing this after having stuffed my face with a selction of various cheeses. Mmmm.

I got a rather good haul in terms of presents this year, which include:

• A PSP and a copy of Grand Theft Auto: Liberty City Stories. The PSP is very nice indeed and if I was a computer then I would definately sleep with it.
• Animals by Pink Floyd. #Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away#. Brilliant album.
• An American Werewolf in London and Pirates of the Caribbean on DVD (But why is the rum gone?).
• Eric and Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett (woo Discworld).
• 2 tubes of glowsticks. :-D
• 3 Mugs, all of which are HUGE.
• Lots of different types of coffee. I can put those mugs to good use. :-)
• A very silly hat indeed. Matches my personality.
• And a Santa weeble. He wobbles but he doesn't fall down (well, most of the time anyway).

And on top of all that I have been merrily stuffing my face with chocolate. No alcohol, but I'm detoxing for a while so that when I return to Aberystwyth I can start my assault upon the pubs of the town with renewed vigour.

Merry Christmas to you too. ¬_¬

So I decide to check to my university e-mail this morning to see if there was anything important there. Turns out that the library thinks I'm overdue on a book, despite the fact that I returned everything I had out to them weeks ago. And now thanks to the fact that a) I don't have any of their contact details since I left it all in Aberystwyth and b) I have a hunch that no-one is actually there this close to christmas, the likely hood is that over the holiday I'm going to rack myself up a pretty little fine for something I don't even have, so I have sorting that out to look forward to when I get back, not to mention putting me in a bad mood now.

Note to self: Don't bother checking university e-mail anymore since it will invariably only be bad news.

A long overdue update

Last Wednesday I was once again priviledged enough to have the displeasure of enduring the train journey from TheMiddleOfNowhere to Hell, or more commonly reffered to as Aberystwyth to Hastings. The first train was crowded and stuffy, although stuffy is perhaps a bit of a misleading term - when I say stuffy, what I really mean is blistering heat and about enough oxygen that would ensure that a flea would have trouble breathing. And then South Eastern trains managed to demonstrate to everyone that they were not satisfied with merely having delays like most other train operaters when the 20:45 from Charing Cross failed to show up completely, giving us an oppurtunity to suffer a "meal" at Burger King, if indeed the burger shaped pieces of plastic they give you there can be classed as food at all. Eventually we arrived at Battle station, only to disembark from the train and be greeted with the unmistakable smell of the south east - a strange fusion between pollution and rising damp. I was allegedly, as my nose was ever keen to point out, home.

The day after I decided to brave Hastings whilst it was gripped by the seasonal related shopping panic that most townsexperience at around this time every year. This was in itself a very frightening and daunting prospect. Hastings isn't exactly what you would call a big place, but when you are used to Aberystwyth then it is quite a shock. Even more amusing was the fact that when I got off the bus, the first thing I saw was that of alarm bells coming from McDonalds with a group of chavs and a police car outside it. If you ever needed a picture to represent Hastings, then that would be it. Thankfully, the chrsitmas shopping this year peased without too many problems, which is good because it almost makes up for the fact that everything I have seems to be breaking at the moment. I blame the south east. After the shopping was out of the way, I then spent two days engaged in the enviable task of balancing on a a chair trying to shove drawing pins in the celing in an attempt to make the decorations stay up against their wishes, the end result being that our house is now covered in so many gold and silver shiny things that if a Magpie was to hypothetically come inside then it would most likely go into cardac arrest. Yesterday evening I went out to Wetherspoons. It was really good to see old friends again. What was less good, however, was the fact the the 'spoons here waters down their drinks. Cheap bastards.

Looks like I'm going to be busy over Christmas, mainly involving meeting of family, friends and of course several days that I have reserved purely for the purposes of eating. Well, if it stops me being bored then I can't really complain.

Until next time people, and remember to be extra vigilant of tax-evading fat blokes in red suits attempting to gain entry to your premises by chimneys so that they can unload (probably stolen) goods in your living room...

Today I finally completed the first 2 out of the 3 essays I have to write this semseter for university. Ordinarily, writing two essay wouldn't necessarily pose a particular problem, but owing to various, uh, unforeseen events that occured at the start of term I did not, in actual fact, start work on these essays until a week ago. The end result was me staying up until 5:30am this morning writing them, having a 5 hour nap, then starting work on them again before running down to get them in before the deadline. Literally just made it with minutes to spare. Am feeling rather pleased with myself, and the whole thing only took me 2 litres of coke and 3 tins of red bull. Although take my advice - the human body simply cannot take that many additives in one night, as I found out. ;-)

Just been sleeping since about 5pm, and am still feeling very tired. Only problem is I'm town between pub or bed for celebration. Hmm.

Not to rewrite History?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4429000.stm

US President George W Bush has said too much is at stake in Iraq for politicians to make "false charges" about the reasons for going to war.
Amid new questions in Congress about the intelligence used to justify the invasion, he said it was "irresponsible to rewrite history".

Mr Bush said he was open to criticism for his policies but it was "deeply irresponsible to rewrite the history of how the war began".

So there you have it. According to Mr Bush, it is now "irresponsible" to rewrite History. I was foolishly under the impression that one of the features of History was the ability to challenge what has been said before - not everyone might not agree with what you say, but then no-one ever will when you deal with History. He who controls the present controls the past, indeed.

Under Bush's logic, however, my degree would be a hell of a lot more easier since I would only be required to regurtitate what I am told happened rather than developing my own conclusions.

Welsh again

Today I have learnt 3 very valuble lessons. Lesson 1: 8 hour train journeys are no fun. Lesson 2: 8 hour train journeys are no fun. Lesson 3: 8 hour train journeys are no fun.

So yeah, arrived back in Aber-bloody-ystwyth at around 7:45ish, left Battle at about midday so the journey was near enough to 8 hours. Although that being said, the connections were good without many delays. Virgin trains were as ribbush as ever, since half of the train was (empty) 1st class carriges and the other half was regular, but pretty much all reserved seating. Can't really complain though as we did manage to get seats. The train from Shrewsbury to Aberystwyth progressed in the usual fashion - that is to say travelling at 30 MPH and stopping now and then to let trains pass because of the single track line, but it's all good. A very wise person built a pub onto the side of the station at Aberystwyth, which was our first port of call before braving the hill. Made it back to the flat to discover Celia's head in the freezer. Poor thing.

Was nice to see people back home again. Battle bonfire was cool - made even better by the fact that we could actually see stuff this year. Yay. Admitedly I did spend quite a bit of time at home but in my defence I was feeling a little meh. Christmas I'll make more effort to actually do stuff. :-p

I was meaning to write something more I think, but I'm beginning to feel very tired, and Sam is currently being drunk and shouting stuff down the corridoor, so whatever it was has escaped me for the time being. I think bed is in order, as I have a day in the library to look forward to tomorrow.

Good night.

Hands up, who forgot the clocks went back last night? I know I did...

It's getting dark ouside and it feels like 6pm. But thanks to the peculiarities of British time-keeping methods it is, in reality, 5pm.

Now we can all look forward to dark evenings and dark mornings. Yay. ¬_¬

And yes, I am still running on JMT...

If you wanna run cool...

...you got to run on heavy, heavy fuel.

On the subject of British prejudice and ignorance towards change and people from other cultures

This morning (or if you would rather, afternoon) I came across this in my e-mail inbox. Whilst I usually delete most forwards I receive since they are usually complete and utter bollocks in the extreme, I felt I had to speak out against the sheer ignorance and stupidity that is displayed in this rather pathetic piece of writing.

(Note: All quotations are indented, the rest are my comments).

Story in a National Newspaper

Will we still be the Country of choice and still be Gt Britain if we continue to make the changes forced on us by the people from other countries that came to live in Britain because it is the Country of Choice??????
Think about it . .


All I have to say is, when will they do something about MY RIGHTS? I celebrate Christmas, but because it isn't celebrated by everyone, we can no longer say Merry Christmas. Now it has to be Season's Greetings.
It's not a Christmas holiday, it's a Winter Break. Isn't it amazing how this winter break ALWAYS occurs over the Christmas holiday? We've gone so far the other way, bent over backwards to not offend anyone, that I am now being offended.
But it seems that no one has a problem with that.
This says it all!

This is an editorial written by a British citizen, published in a National newspaper He did quite a job; didn't he? Read on, please!

IMMIGRANTS,
NOT BRITS MUST ADAPT.
I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on the 7th of the 7th we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Brits. However, the disgust about the attacks had barely settled when the "politically correct " crowd began complaining about the possibility that our patriotism was offending others.


I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Britain, Our population is almost entirely made up of descendants of immigrants. (The Danes, Romans ect.)
However, there are a few things that those who have recently come to our country, and apparently some born here, need to understand. This idea of the Brits being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Britain's we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle. This culture has been developed over centuries of struggles, trials, and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom.


We speak ENGLISH, not Indian, Urdu, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become partof our society, learn the language!
"Land of Hope & Glory" is our motto. This is not some Christian, right wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.
It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools.
If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.

If the 'Union Jack' flag offends you, the cross offends you, or you don't like our QUEEN, then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from.
This is OUR COUNTRY, our land, and our lifestyle. Our Laws give every citizen the right to express his opinion and we will allow you every opportunity to do so! But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about our flag, our lifestyle our government, or our way of life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great BRITISH freedom, THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.
It is Time for Gt. Britain to Speak up. If you agree -- pass this along; if you don't agree -- delete it!
anon..
AMEN

I think if we all keep passing this to our friends (and enemies) it will also, sooner or later get back to the complainers, lets all try, please.

Best regards,

Mick Wheeler

Ok, lets have a look at this shall we?

I celebrate Christmas, but because it isn't celebrated by everyone, we can no longer say Merry Christmas. Now it has to be Season's Greetings.
It's not a Christmas holiday, it's a Winter Break.

Yes, you do indeed celebrate Christmas, well spotted. In fact most people celebrate Christmas - even atheists do, despite it being a Christian holiday. People have been putting seasons greetings on cards for as long as I can remember, because as well as Christmas there is also that God awful affair of new-years, and it saves the card manufactures money to just print one slogan to cover every excuse that people may contrive to get drunk. In the same light, you get a Winter break because it takes place - funnily enough - in Winter, and usually for a period of time considerably longer than the Christmas period itself. If you want a Christmas break, then I'm sure your employer would be happy to oblige, but don't start complaining when you no longer get new-years of work to, since that doesn't come under the term of "Christmas holiday".

This is an editorial written by a British citizen...

WRONG! We are not citizens in this country, we are subjects since we ultimately fall under the rule of a monarch.

I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Britain, Our population is almost entirely made up of descendants of immigrants. (The Danes, Romans ect.)

The article begins so admirably. From reading that I could almost believe that this person has some ounce of intelligence. He realises that there is no such thing as a "true" British person - something that a lot of people have trouble with.

This idea of the Brits being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Britain's we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle.

Oh dear, after such a promising start it begins to fall down immediately, what a shame. Britain does not have a national identity of it's own, and neither does it have it's own language, society or lifestyle. In reality it's a great big mish-mash of Celt, Pict, Norse, Germanic, French, Norman, Angle, Saxon... the list goes on and on. At one point in our history we had a king who was German and couldn't even speak English - to counteract this he appointed a "Prime Minister" to deal with parliament for him, and the position stuck and became precedent.

We speak ENGLISH, not Indian, Urdu, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society, learn the language!

Yes, we may certainly speak "English", but English is a language only in name. It's an amalgamation of many other languages that got absorbed as people from other countries settled here. If you really want to carry on British tradition, then the best way to do so would be to absorb the languages of anyone settling in Britain now, since this is the way things have always happened around here. I for one would quite like some new words in our language since the ones we already have to play with are beginning to bore me.

"Land of Hope & Glory" is our motto. This is not some Christian, right wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.

Excuse me? Christian men and women founded this nation on Christian principles? Well that really is quite some feat considering the people that originally settled here were pagan. And since Christ hadn't actually been born at the time they were around, I think they had a pretty damn good reason for not being Christian too. And even when Christianity was introduced into this country, there was certainly nothing principled about it - when the Bible was translated into English, it was re-worded, re-phrased and had several omissions that were blamed on "translation". No, the reason they did this was because the church only wanted people to know what they told them, indeed for centuries (and to some extent even today) the church as an institution in this country existed and exists as a tool for the control of people. I've never known a more unchristian institution in all my life than the church.

If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.

That's a pretty big claim saying God is part of our culture. If God was part of our culture then we wouldn't be spending our time bombing the middle-east constantly now, would we?

If the 'Union Jack' flag offends you, the cross offends you, or you don't like our QUEEN, then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from.

For starters the Union Jack is what is flown on British naval vessels. What you're thinking of is the Union Flag, which is the atrocity that flown everywhere on land. It IS offensive, at least to me it is, and presumably some others too. The Union Flag, being a montage of the flags of England, Scotland and Ireland, is a symbol of how the English marched into Wales, Scotland and Ireland, subjugated the people there, made them second class citizens and took away their rights and freedom. Tell me again that it isn't offensive.
I have nothing against the cross. It doesn't offend me and I wouldn't call myself a Christian. Out of the atheists, agnostics, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus etc. that I've spoken to, none of them ever once gave me anything to suggest that they were somehow offended by the cross. Perhaps if you conversed with people from other cultures and religions more often you might realise that they're just the same as you and I.
As for the Queen, well she seems like a nice enough lady, but what purpose does she - or any other monarch past or present - serve? The only things monarchs used to do in the past was tax the poor and then use that money to declare war on other countries. We have a Prime Minister to do this instead now, so the post of monarch is redundant.

Our Laws give every citizen the right to express his opinion and we will allow you every opportunity to do so!

Explain to me why a senior citizen (this is an ironic term if you remember that we all subjects anyway) was recently escorted (read: thrown out) out of a speech being given by a Labour MP, purely because he voiced his opinion by exclaiming "nonsense!". That's hardly freedom of expression if you ask me.

But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about our flag, our lifestyle our government, or our way of life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great BRITISH freedom, THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.

If you can't face upto change, then perhaps you should consider leaving this country yourself. Change is something that should be embraced rather than hiding from. This country has been consistantly changing ever since there have been people living here. If we had less people like you, I daresay we could make some changes - and maybe even improvements - to this country. If you decide to leave however (and here's to hoping that you will), then you better take advantage of this freedom pretty soon, since when the inevitable happens and the ID card scheme becomes reality, then you will need to have one of those to leave the country, which would mean it would be hardly fair to call it a "freedom" then.

It is Time for Gt. Britain to Speak up.

Consider me "spoken up" then.

Haven't got a clue why but this amused me.

I think all my friends are ignoring me. It seems none of them actually want to pay £60 at the very least for the displeasure of a 7-hour train journey to Aberywtwyth to come and see me. It seems like none of us ever go out as a group anymore, just because we are in different parts of the country, or in some of our cases aren't even in the same country anymore. It's all just an excuse for people to avoid me.

To symbolise my misery I have written a poem, entitled "Today, I am feeling rather Brian". I can't actually be bothered to copy it here, but if you imagine 20 different metaphors for me cutting open my wrists and then sodimizing a giraffe, you should get the general idea.

My love life is also crap. Or at least it probably would be if I had one. In fact I am so upset about this, I am going to go now and put some glockenspiels on spikes.

But hey, don't worry about me, I have a puke inducing bottle of Bordeaux and a jar of relish to keep me company through these long and lonely nights in the middle of nowhere.

Currently listening to: Genesis - Back In N.Y.C

As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair,
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Off we go.

The "Great" War 1914-1918

Interesting how it came to be refered to as the "great" war...

Granted - great does not neccisarily mean good - it could instead simply mean large or big, or some-such.

But then why not call it the large war? The big war? The collosal war? The extensive war? But no, for some reason it became refered to in History as "great", a word that has quite strong conotations of being good, beneficial... even desirable.

So would someone please explain to me why it is called the "great" war? Since I fail to see how anyone could describe war as being good, beneficial or desirable...

Cymru

I have now arrived in Wales. Yes, I am fully aware that this post is more than a week old. I would also like to ask you all to kindly please ignore the previous post - I was drunk and suffering from a bout of rather severe depression one night, and I was ranting and babling about things which are probably best not spilt onto these pages.

We departed from Hastings at around midnight on the 24th. Leaving home was probably the hardest part for me. Watching all of my possesions being loaded into the car, and having to sit by and watch as my room was stripped bare with only a few things left was tough. The room was no longer mine, but having only been at that house for two years kind of lessened the sensation of leaving home. I felt as if I had "left" home when we moved out of our old house and went to Pett - I never enjoyed living there, for reasons quite beyond me since the village is quite pretty, but I digress. After checking, double checking, tripple checking, re-checking, and having a last quick check that I had packed absolutely everything we finally managed to depart from Pett at around midnight on the 24th. And even after searching the house from top to bottom to make sure I had everything, for the first half of the journey I still couldn't get rid of that horrible feeling that you have left something importnat behind. Thankfully this later turned out to be completely unfounded when I discovered that I had in fact bought perhaps a little too much stuff. Driving through Pett at midnight was a rather eerie experience - the place was pitch dark and there was mist everywhere which gave the place an almost ethereal feel. Driving along the route to my old school - the route that I was so used to and knew of by heart from the past two years also bought back quite a bit of nostaligia - and once again I was reminded that I was not to return to the place that I had been studying for the past 7 years. Luckily, as soon as we got out of the Hastings area, and as the roads became unrecognisable all of this left me, and was instead replaced by a mixture of excitement and anticipation at what lay in store for me upon arrival in Wales. Leaving home had been the hardest part, but the journey seemed to take my mind of things, and I had resolved myself to the fact that I was on my way, and there was now going back.

The journey turned out to be rather uneventful in the end. We got lost only once, and even this was nothing spectacular. As we crossed over the Severn and into Wales I began to feel a little apprehensive again, but this was short lived. After what seemed like an age on roads that went up and down hills constantly, we finally arrived in Aber-bloody-ystwyth at around 7.30 in the morning, with an hour and a half to spare before the univeristy opened. If I had of been feeling a little better I would have walked about and explored, but not having had any sleep that night, and being sustained by only one cup of rather crap tasting coffee, I decided to stay in the relative warmth and comfort of the car. It had been almost a year ago since I was last in Aberystwyth - last October I came here for a weekened to visit the univeristy's open day, and it was then that I fell in love with the place (well I loved it already, it just confirmed my views). It felt strange sitting in the car in the seafront, watching the street-sweepers at work and people out for their morning jog - watching the small town wake-up. It occured to me that thousands of students would be descending upon this place today, and the town wouldn't know what had hit it by the end of it. In a way it made me feel almost guilty for coming here and contributing to the disruption of this nice quiet town. After spending an hour or so in the car, and making the best use of the time by eating bagels and spilling hula-hoops all over the floor of the car (shh, I don't think anyone noticed this) we made our way upto the university. What happened from then on is all a bit of a blur to be honest. I was woefully sleep deprived, and couple with all my pent-up nervous energy, the whole experience was rather surreal to say the least. I remember driving into the main entrance and muttering, "I need to goto Cwrt Mawr. I think." to some nearby people that looked knowledgeble. Thankfully they were, and they pointed us in the right direction. After a bit of confusion and wandering around aimlessly being lost, the next thing I recall is being thrust a skip of paper with my address on it, a map of the accomodation and a small brown evelope containing what felt to be something metallic and key shaped. I finally found my way to my flat, aided by someone who didn't really seem to know where they were going, or even how to read a map, but this was a source of amusement for me, and since I didn't know the place any better myself, I cared little. After finding my room, and subsequently being very relieved that it was in fact quite spacious and rather nice the next thing I know I am standing in Morisons, propping myself up with a shopping trolley and trying to find food. Given that I had not slept, and coupled with horrible goodbye I was going to have to go through looming over me, it is needless to say that I failed miserabaly in this task - I shoved a few things in the trolley and we made our way back to the university - which is when the gridlock struck. Even though it seemed like the traffic jams would last forever, all too soon I was back at the univeristy, and after a brief call to the TV Licensing people, I was standing outside in the car park. The goodbye was an odd one. I watched my parents drive off, and it felt as if I had lost something. I retreated back to my room, and stood looking at the mess of boxes, and trying to busy myself with something before things really hit me. Thankfully, just minutes later I ran into friends, and all feelings of homesickness left, or at the very least were subdued.

The past week has also been an interesting experience, and if I get bored again then maybe I'll write about that too, but I think I have gone for long enough now. I realise that much of the above is probably of very little interest to anyone, save perhaps for myself who will no doubt read it in a years time and chuckle to myself. For now though, I shall depart since I have one of them "lecture" things tomorrow. Whatever that is.

Goodnight.

Upon reflection, and in particular reflection that is indeed most reflective and thought about quite extensively, it would seem that I have - after quite a while of pondering and thinking and considering this question - come to th conclsusion that in relaity life is, in actuality and as a matter of fact a funny old thing.

My room is stripped bare, all I have in here now is a laptop and a router

So, in 2 hours time I will be leaving to go to university. Yes that's right - I'm leaving at midnight, which is pretty much neccesary since I was the one who choose to goto university so far away, and on a good, straight, flat out, no stops run we might make the journey in about 7 hours. Of course, you then have to take into account other road users (the only purpose of which are to get in your way and slow you down), getting lost (which will invariably happen at least once - it's the unwriteen law of the road) and of course not to mention numerous stop-offs at motorway services for strong cups of coffee in a bid to keep the driver awake long enough to get us to our destination. So with all that taken into consideration, I'll be lucky if I get to Aberystwyth at about 9am, which is rather conveniently when the unversity opens.

If I said that I am feeling a little nervous right now, then that would be a great big lie. I am in fact bloody petrified, and I have never ever felt like this in my whole life, ever. Thankfully, one way or another, and whether it is good or bad, all this waiting around will finally be over within the next 24 hours, and I predect that I'll either be in a dark and smoke filled pub somewhere, or, and this is more likely, I'll be in my room playing my PS2 and generally being miserable that it will be another 2 days at least before I will have internet access.

Anyway, I am off now to generally mope about and be all nervous and all that jazz. See you all later.

Warning: Long winded muesings and bouts of nostalgia that aren't really all that interesting and don't make much sense ahead

In a weeks time I shall be departing from the unpleasant, and certainly not very fair land of Hastings, and will be traveling to, taking up residence in and starting university at Aberystwyth. And yes - as the more astute of you may have observed from the under-use of vowels in that word - that is in Wales. People say that leaving home is a big thing, and can be stressful at times, and in a shocking twist of events, people are actually right. For once. Lets just hope that they can give a repeat performance when they say that "everything will be fine" and "university is great". Not that I need people to tell me that, however.

I've been saying "goodbye" to people recently, which feels like an odd thing to do. Some of my friends I've known since Year 7, and the fact that we are all departing of to university leads me to ask the question "just when did we all grow up, anyhow?". School, 6th form and all that sometimes still feels as if it was only yesterday and leaves one with a sense of fright at how fast the time has passed. Although it is with a rather surreal quality that whilst is seems like only yesterday, at the same time it feels somehow so far away now, especially considering how much has changed over the years, most notably these past two years in 6th form. Since starting there 2 years ago today (give or take a week or two or three) I have moved house once, had three girlfriends and my hair is now longer. I'm still scared by that old common room though. Some things will never change. I fear that I am now starting to ramble on about such things too much now, so I shall stop looking at the past, leave it where it belongs (over there on the shelf next to the air freshener) and look to the future instead...

...but I'm not going to do that, because if I look to the future then it fills my head with terrible, nightmarish visions that include the words "forms", "packing" and "traveling", which is pretty much a collection of all my phobias barring needles and Margaret Thatcher.

On that note I think it will be best if I do not look to the past, future or anywhere else, in a literal or philosophical sense, and instead I shall have a glass of wine and go do that thing where you lie on your back and stare at the ceiling until morning comes and you have no idea of where you've just been or what you've been doing. Sleeping, I think they call it.

Good night.

I am such a rebel

Yesterday when I was out shopping, I went and payed at the "10 items or less" till, when I had 11 items.

I really am such a rebel.