Happy Ginger Hamsters

Dear Lord. I do enjoy a good 3000 word essay on the future of personalised medicine.

I have until Friday to complete this abomination of an assignment. *sigh* why didn't I take the easy route and go for a straight English Literature degree instead *coughs and waits for the flaming arrows to distribute across my room, attached with equally fiery expletives on where I can shove my non existant BIomedical Science degree*.

So anyway, I am welcomed back to the world of 4am essay writing. It's good to be back after 2 years of not actually doing anything. It almost feels like I'm back doing my GCSEs...

So, I've explored Reading a little further, and have gleed and wallowed in the delight of the Harris Arcade-tiny tiny corridor of shops, situated in between god knows where, crammed with the most wonderful intricacies that the grownp up fantasy world should offer. I say "grown up fantasy" because that is what it should be.

One constabulary contains a collector's delights-toys, comics, tv show memorabilia, all piled high on creaky wooden shelves covered in dust. In one there contained a cabinet of fantastic comic book memorabilia. One that particularly stuck to mind was a box full of tin Watchmen action figures. Alas, that same cabinet was in dedication to a late collector, the rarities display only.

And pause. I have been thinking of the other half for god knows how long....okay, back to Reading.

So this arcade also contains the obligatory alternative shop-also known as the "shop where all the goths swarm". The place, by the way, is fucking BRILLIANT. The first thing you notice-other than the forboding impending doom of your wallet being raped and swapped with awesome merchandise- is the amount of leather masks and wings that hang from the shops displays. The wings are fantastic, far too fabulous to not wear every day. Also, the jewellery are so good to awe at, and home decorations a la mirrors and lamp holders in the shape of fleshless hand were enough to make me with return with a loaded credit card.

Possibly.

And now....I grow bored of this post. Again, will update on this arcade later. I am eating well-made my first sushi today, surprisingly easy considering how much glamour they are given-and playing zombie boardgames with my geek friends, drinking Jack Daniels and coke, listening to "I'm on a blimp" by Little Kuriboh.

Life sucks, does it not? :)

I've just slept in my contacts. AGAIN. Trying to peel them out of my eye sockets last night was horrendous though.

NEED. To do. WORK.

I have four weeks left. FOUR FUCKING WEEKS. My notes are non existant. It's horrendous.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

It's kind of weird hearing a confession for the first time in about a month. I've had enough of them, but last night was strangly enlightening, but should not have been the least bit surprising on my part.

I'm still not getting any mail! Whoever is trying to sue me is getting a pretty raw deal right now.

I'm still not fit to drink. Last night was somewhat mediocre-there's nothing worse when at a club when the vast majority of your "crowd" gives in for the night. You want a following-people, lights, disco, all the cliches of modern student night "life" to up the ante of not being yourself/being yourself.

I still need a hairbrush-one of mine has gone missing while the other was thrown away.

Cooking at 3am is somewhat fulfilling when you're telling someone how to do it :)

 It is strange, growing my nails. For someone. Hm.

I am having a porridge phase at the moment, so until I get sick from it or start getting fat because I am unable to control my eating, I will not stop obsessing over these oats.

Ready Brek. Pah. Smooth oats for the WEAK. And I'm eating them.

Wondering whether I should go out to the Social tonight. Should be fun. Get pissed beforehand, sober up o the dance floor, remember the rest of the night-try not to fall backwards on the pavement again.

Also, it has come to my attention that money is not worth worrying over. Although I check my bank balance online every couple of days, it's becoming tiresome to keep tabs on the damn thing-I have more than enough stashed away, and I'm keeping on budget every week. Almost.

I mean, I haven't had the need to buy any new clothing, besides the odd Halloween party or social. And even then I scrimp like mofo.

I want work, just to occupy me every few nights when I'm not doing anything at all. *sigh* Damn you ASDA!

So since I last posted I have been absent due to ridiculously poor health. Money worries, very little work to be done....pretty much the standard issue of being a student. Things are relatively back to normal for me as I try to readjust to life as it should be...

Right now I am trying to rewatch all the 2006 music videos I used to sit through all summer of the same year. Oddly enough, they don't evoke the same nostalgia that they used to. Maybe I am moving on.

I am now technically in my 6th week of university. Things have been moving fast and slow in terms of work and life-I'm not the party animal that I wished to have become and I am still not the complete social retard that I thought I'd be.

My room is relatively cleaner, my laundry has been washed and dried...now my notes. Shit. I have 60+ hours of notes to sift through, definitely before the end of next week or it will pile higher. I have half a mind to start it now but my god are these things everywhere.

Also discovered the wondrement of Cassandra Claire and the OMGZ!11!! plagiarism scandal. How quaint. How disgusting.

Taylor Swift wins a little with her monologue song, by the way.

The discovery of two different methods to recording a heartbeat is a little astonishing as well. Well, astonishing-more like "raised a little intrigue". At the time my stomach was killing my insides, but let's not go there.

I want to get drunk soon. Must drag people out to Sub89 on Wednesday. NEEEDDDD BAD ROCK MUSIC TO DANCE TOOOO.

Feeling sick, have no idea what. Apocalyptic seizure as I watch the Harvest and remember the Good Times, when the colours were grim and plain. Giles was the person I would have wanted to be-messed up on the inside, conserved on the out. I miss those '90s dungarees.

I miss not being so pretencious. I don't miss not being paranoid. I miss pretending to be a slayer.

I had no clue I could be so discrete. Usually I shout at the top of my lungs and to the heavens and stars whenever I stub my toe.

I have spent an hour and a half carving meat up for the month. Yes folks, I gave in to the bloody (adorable) chef from back home. My room also smells of parsley and I really couldn't give a flying tosser about how I'm eating badly. Or if I'm gaining weight.

The snacks I bought for today's lecture was fucking terrible. £1.25 on a double choc chip cookie and choc cake and what I got was a tasteless coaster and an overwhelmingly undersweet rice crispie.Bernard Black may or may not approve.

I have a sudden urge to go out in just my lab coat. The thing is freaking comfortable what with the thick coat and the stench of Chloroform wafting through the air.

Also, I need to watch Kathy Griffin. And Hetalia is BIZARRE.

Bed now. See you in the Twilight once more.

For ambience, let me enlighten (or re-enlighten?) you on the charm of Incubus:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7zN9vd9WUiA&feature=related

Anywho, I am in the midst of attempting to make my own notes from this device called "Blackboard" that informs one on all the news and announcements of my course. Fun. Also a godsend for me as I am frequently late to lectures anyway, and must rely on this useful device.

And to all those who have a so called "reading week"-screw ye and your free 9 day weekend! I hope you choke on the ice cream you'll be no doubt munching after your 23 hour nap.

There is an ice cream truck right outside my halls. It is 7 floors down. I am in my pyjamas. There is no way I'm going there. I need sweets! I guess cold banana and nutella chocolate will *have* to do.

It has also occurred to me that...actually. Never mind.

I have no food for tonight. I burnt my remaining chicken legs in an attempt to bake something. I need more fruit. And a better diet. I think I'll stir fry something again, basically use up the baby lettuce in the back of the fridge. Also I've had mince meat for the last two days. Absolutely sick of mince now. Also, against Chris' advice, I am going to buy multi packs of chicken breast and leg. I cannot be arse carving a whole chicken. I am not a cook but a student goddamnit!

Better get back to work, or I'll never bloody make it by midnight tonight.

Hello, welcome. Good evening all. It is not the first time I emburden myself to push out a livejournal entry for the sake of updating, therefore, I will bring you The Boring Facts:

Introduction Microbiology seriously needs a kick up the anus  an overhaul. I am not paying £50 to be enlightened on a topic that would have interested me were it not for the fact I was only going to study it for this term, ie. about 5 more weeks.

I would like a job, prefereably being thou'st coffee slave. Were it not for my pride, I would happily spend months making coffee for you dear people.

There is a party right outside my door. I would like to take a moment to say I was not invited.

I have not had cereal in four days. I HAVE NOT HAD CEREAL IN FOUR DAYS.

I have a copy of Good Omens, The Bell Jar, Catch-22, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and Season 3 Buffy boxset. Neither of these I have completed watching or reading. In that order.

I am full. For the first time in a while.

I am proud to have not gotten wasted since being in Uni. Life's too good to be waking up in the middle of a field. Next to a tipped cow.

I am doing all I can to put off making notes. I shall do these tomorrrow.

Mmm...chocolate.

I have not yelled nor get seriously annoyed at anyone for the last three weeks.

I have not argued nor felt the need to push myself to get to know someone.

I have not felt incredibely anxious about anything since the term started. Besides Tuesday's panic session, realising that an assessment was coming up.

University has not calmed me down. It's just been a well I've been resting in for a while now, away from home and nagging and constant relationship anxieties caused by work and home.

It has been hard to find a reason to call home. Or a time to do it. I am of course, constantly worried about money, to the extent of it becoming an obsessive compulsive disorder. But then I've always been like that.

I've not found an opportunity to MSN, facebook (much), or be online for a while now. Not because I'm super busy, but I because I take my time to explore Reading.

I am a city kid. It does not bode well with me when the bank and shops close before 5pm. However, I am fascinated by the constant appearances of wildlife. Like the two foxes coming home one night. Or the hedgehog I tripped over.

I still do not believe I am fitting in, but I may as well adapt to where I am. I am cooking food. Badly, is what I'll put it, but I've found out for the first time I can achieve a flat(ter) stomach due to the inconsistancy to which I eat properly. Meat is good. Noodles, better. Tea has become my staple. Sweet, black tea, is the flavour of choice.

I have also become inexhonourably boring. Reducing my anxieties has put me at a a stage where I really am talking monotone and that I do not become the crazy asian chick that everyone knows.

That same thing has also made me more likable. Appealing, in fact. I am still the awful wretch on the inside since I was 8 years old, however, she has gone into hiding, and will not come out until the early hours of mid-30dom.

I miss cake. Coffee and Walnut, or chocolate cookies, or anything from Will's stash. Nowhere to be seen. It has forced me to buy cheap, but surprisingly delicious sultana cake. I shall repeat this process once more next week.

I should attend all my society socials. However, I have become Lazy. It shall be banished from the cupboard of despair soon.

Cake. Must have now.

It has been three weeks since I've logged on.

Within those three weeks, I have been able to adjust to this so called life of being away from home. I do miss my old music library. I'm missing quite a chunk of songs that I miss hearing.

I also find the sting of breaking up with someone surprisingly a distant memory. I do believe I've been lucky. Or somewhat able to be emotionally detached. I worry that I'm paranoid but unable to connect with people. It's a bitch of a conundrum, rather.

Also, I've never felt happier with the new person as I have for a while. It's not the change of pace; it is neither the change of face, but it's a breath of fresh air that has cleared the intoxication of back and fourth analogys and awful promises made with an empty heart. I lost interest in the old a few months back; got angry, annoyed, wanted to hurt, argue with. Brutally, intentionally, reduced the amount of time that I saw them.

It was my first love and I could not go on. I was hurting him when he didn't notice. I became the person that I thought was flawed, ugly, retched. I broke the promise of staying with him forever, having children with him, build a tree house behind a house with a balcony.

How naive one becomes when one hasn't seen the world yet.

I wish it stayed, I really wish it did, but my patience ran its course. "distance" she cried, was the reason. But inside her heart, she knew "it is you. You, the reason that I shall not limber along this woefully thinning relationship."

I have no regret. And yet I feel that I should feel guilty.Why not? I did, after all, initiate the break up.

What a bitch am i. And I'm happy for it.

For midnight is the hour of creativity.

You know what is amazing to do at 12:23am after a horrifying day at the workplace? Lying on the pier slope that is edged towards the sea, watching the few stars glittering in the polluted night sky. And no one around you to tell you anything at all.

I had an interesting conversation with the taxi driver last night. We indulged in basic politics, the origin of race, and how history is a beautiful, intricate awful masterpiece.

And do you know what he asked me? He asked me, if I recall, what I was taking for my degree. I said Biomedical Science.

He was shocked, and told me I might be studying the wrong degree. He is the third person who has said so. That amuses me.

I...really, really didn't think i'd make it. The past 14 months of trials and errors pushing itself to the fore were horrendous...but i finally got what i wanted. Needed.

It's not as if i stressed myself for the actual exams themselves-it's the fact i've dragged everyone else down while making myself unontentionally sick that's been finally paid off. I'm sorry to those who got 3am calls listening to my panic attacks while trying to revise.

But seriously...this morning i knew my life had changed when MGMT's "Time to Pretend" played. Because Skins and Gossip Girl ended that way as well. Oh the cheeseeee.

So many things are going to feel weird...i was so adamant i wouldn't go to Reading. Results day i prepared myself for the very very worst, stopping myself from building up any hope. I've not felt like that since the days i last went to school on a regular basis.

I finally pull away the burden of myself off my parents shoulders. That, and the fact i can finally come home late at 3am without having a supersonic mentally-challenged exchange of words with the "adults". I find it amusing that my dad brought out a veiled threat last night in the words of "behave yourself, i have friends in Reading". Also, the sheer and utter nonsense that my mother told me-that "i shouldn't work at all/it's okay to have no money" really is complete bull. Thank god she's not got my cash for the next year. Also, i need to plan out a couvert operation every time she wants to visit. ("shit, hide the fucking gin!")

At this moment, i would still be whining about my grades. The fact i found out if i got in or not without checking my grades first meant i reduced any chance of a few heart attacks. I love the internet on my phone.

I should have went out last night, but my liver really really needed to recover now.

I'll shut up now. Enjoy you're crappy anime.

 I stayed up at 3am this morning talking about the gig for at least 40 minutes to the other half. That is how good things were.

Without going into too much detail (aka without the mindless fangirling that I'm *so* over) Taking Back Sunday had a freaking good setlist that included the classics from TAYFs, Louder Now, and the New Again(which I honestly didn't listen to enough to sing along to). Finishing off with Make Damn Sure was the icing on the cake. Also, going to the bar, meeting Adam Lazzara, getting him to sign the other half's Magic the Gathering card, getting a photo, a hug, and being told I was beautiful by the dude himself jammed a giant strawberry on top of the freakin' sweet over iced Taking Back SUnday Super Special Awesome Ice Cream Gig Cake.

Yeah. I am STOKED.

Hoo ha!

 I had an epiphany thanks to two days of sleep deprivation and rethinking my life once again. Thanks to House MD, Spider Jerusalem and unfunnybusiness, I now realise that my purpose in life is to serve in the Medical Industry as one who dispels all the bullshit and myths that people are fed every fucking day because of fear and ignorance.

 Jenny McCarthy, for example. If I was still religious, I'd say she ranks at the lowest depths of hell to humanity, especially children everywhere. I realise that I do not know what she's going through, but her rampant campaign against almost all vaccinations is making me believe that parents everywhere are in danger of falling for her sweet talk and general...aaargh, ignorance. 
  
 It's just...why do people firmly believe that the "Big Pharma" companies are solely in it to rake in money? Of course they are-that's what they are, big business, and they better fucking do it  well. It's the trash talk of conspiracy theorists believeing that these companies want to kill people that irks me. Why exactly would they want to do that? What's the hidden agenda? If they wanted to kill millions, what would be the reward? The absolute myth of vaccinations containing mercury has been dispeled;  the research that linked autism to vaccinations has been brilliantly dismantled thanks to investigation into the poor research techniques conducted by the idiot who wrote the paper.

 Ben Goldacre shows you prime examples of why Medicine is degenrated into mass hysteria (actually, don't quote me on that); question headlines, read the statistics carefully, and when they tell you Swine Flu is on the loose, you better fucking try and catch it (again, my words, not his).

 I'm on a mission to slap people around the face to see the big picture; I guess, to make up for my naivety, but that's for another blog entry.

 I like the fact that most of my posts are more likely to have been typed at around 3am. It's a very satisfying notion that I can type in peace in the twilight.

 I'm at my work cycle again, just the way things should be; I demand hours, boss gives me hours, I get exhausted by hours, I recieve virtually tax free fat paycheck at the end of the month (don't worry, it's somehow legal). I originally planned doing this continual work cycle for a year, but it turned out that being out for a month can render you invisible when being given the timetable. Also, I like screwing with my work colleagues. I never realised how much half of them are terrible people on the inside until you realise how much of their potential career they've spent working around food events. 


Better head off. I either have a 9:00am or an 11:00am start. Not sure, don't care, too tired.

Irresponsibility. And awesome 90s' shows. It's depressing the amount of times I've looked back at childhood and thought about wearing a pair of denim dungarees again and never having to go on a guilt trip for not over-achieving.

(Of course you're unable to hear the bitterness in my tone.)

Stupidly enough I've just CCleaned my Firefox browser cache, so I can't seem to open Firefox unless I reboot the damn thing.
ANyway, I would bring you goodies in ways of hotlinking or whatever you crazy hippy PCs call them.

I've just spent the last hour or so talking about suicide, listening to Bob Dylan, doing Math. Somehow, this should depress me, but it's the most motivation I've had in week.


...I should so get a twitter.

community.livejournal.com/fandomsecrets/273294.html#cutid1

Skins secret, an explanation to: No.149.

I have never actually lurked around the Skins fandom, ever, unless it's IRL, and even then I touch on the subject briefly before moving on to what kind of sandwich you'd prefer to smoosh on the face of your worst enemy.

( I like rusty spoooons. )

So, to conclude; Freddie is unlikable because of the fact he mopes about as if he had a vole stuck up his bum; Cook is a complete arse and/but he tries to please as much as he can; and JJ is the unsung hero of the show, because he's the most drugged up, most reasonable character on the male side of Skins 3.