Eternal Fragments of the Fractured Mind

Ok, so who here has a Twitter? I finally signed up for one and I need peoples.

Mine is Errantitude. Not sure why.

I met up with Kym/space_cadet in London last night, which was awesome, despite our total lack of organisation resulting in lots of time spent riding the tube. But Kym is lovely (and has an American accent *grins*. Online people always speak with British accents in my head which makes them having real voices very confusing)! I meant to take a picture for the 'OMG GRYFFINDORS MEETING UP!'-ness of it, but then I forgot. So next time!

Off to Birmingham to watch Rugby/see friends/hopefully go raving soon. Which should be fun, though I tragically do not have any flat shoes with me so might have to rave in heels. Ugh. But yay for having a life and not being miserable!

Katy, Anna and I came up with this game last night (as a result, I should add, of a discussion between Anna and Katy about which sentence of the preface they hated most). We wrote ours in 10 minutes in the living room with pen and paper, but I'm guessing that with time and computers you guys can do a lot better if you want to take a shot. Spread it around!






Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to rewrite the preface of 'Twilight' by Stephenie Meyer, in the same style and conveying all the same information, but hopefully better. Post your efforts in the comments.

The Rules:

1. You must write in the first person, past tense
2. You must adhere to the following brief:

You are about to die, in the place of someone you love. You are standing at the opposite end of a long room from an anonymous 'hunter' with dark eyes; he looks friendly. You are terrified. The last few months have been dangerous - you would never be in this position if you hadn't come to Forks. You can't regret it though; it's been like a 'dream'. You end with the hunter walking towards you, presumably to kill you.

3. You may include no additional details - no facts, no description of the room, no names. You should be vague about who the killer is, where you are, and just who it is that you are trying to save.


LINK
<a href="http://lady-brightside.livejournal.com/110527.html"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/r.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/e.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/w.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/r.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/i.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/t.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/e.gif"> <img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/t.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/w.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/i.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/l.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/i.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/g.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/h.gif"><img src="http://www.htmate.com/glitter/styles/style6/style6_files/t.gif"></a>

I think my favourite thing about the snow today was looking out of my window to see this strange little trench winding through the garden...with a pigeon sitting at the end of it.

Now, I know pigeons are lazy, stupid birds who would almost always prefer to waddle everywhere than take the effort to get off the ground. But in what way is it in any way better to wade through freezing cold snow up to the neck to get anywhere? Surely that cannot be fun.

There are hours of entertainment to be found on Amazon. HOURS.

See?

Synopsis
Hardcore sex and scandal meet in this brilliantly hot and funny whodunnit. A seaside village, an English country house, a family of wealthy eccentrics and their equally peculiar servants and a determined detective - all the ingredients are here for a cosy Agatha Christie-style whodunnit. But, Edward "Mitch" Mitchell is no Hercule Poirot, and "The Back Passage" is no "Murder on the Orient Express". Mitch is a handsome, insatiable 22-year-old hunk who never lets a clue stand in the way of a steamy encounter, whether it's with the local constabulary, the house secretary, or his school chum and fellow athlete Boy Morgan, who becomes his Watson when they're not busy boffing each other. When Reg Walworth is found dead in a cabinet, Sir James Eagle has his servant Weeks immediately arrested as the killer. But, Mitch's observant eye pegs more plausible possibilities: polysexual chauffeur Hibbert, queenly pervert Leonard Eagle, missing scion Rex, sadistic copper Kennington and even Sir James Eagle himself. Blackmail, police corruption, a dizzying network of spy holes and secret passages, watersports, and a non-stop queer orgies mark this hilariously hardcore mystery by a major new talent.



Apparently, it's quite well reviewed.

Just got back from watching Revolutionary Road. Thought it was absolutely fantastic.

It's rare that a film that is basically people sitting/standing around Acting can leave me breathless (usually it takes at least a decent Underdog Coming Through moment and some soaring Orchestral Accompaniment, or possibly a Jerry Bruckheimer Slow Motion Helicopter Against A Sunset)(72% sarcasm, don't worry), but this one did.

( Not really spoilers at all, but just in case )


On a completely different note, Katy just linked me to this, which aside from being noteworthy for being apparently a manual for a Rampant Rabbit vibrator has that wonderful new Amazon feature on the page that tells you what people viewing it go on to buy. I promise that I am not making this up:

55% buy the item featured on this page:
The User's Guide to the Rabbit (52 Brilliant Little Ideas)

15% buy
Sinful Sex: The Uninhibited Guide to Erotic Pleasure
£4.79

11% buy
Make Your Own Sex Toys: 50 Quick and Easy Do-It-Yourself Projects
£6.49

10% buy
Mamma Mia! [2008]
£12.98


MAMMA MIA. OF COURSE THEY DO. BECAUSE WHAT GOES BETTER WITH YOUR BOOK ABOUT SEX TOYS THAN SINGING ALONG TO ABBA? *dies*

Also, although people viewing Make Your Own Sex Toys have also expressed an interest in Shag Yourself Slim or Naughty Games for Grown-Ups, 5% of them would rather go on to read The Tales Of Beedle The Bard. You couldn't make it up if you tried.

There are occasions on which it would really be better to be blind. They're very rare, but they happen.

For instance, this song got played at Ceroc on Monday:



It doesn't really come across so well just on youtube, but imagine you're in a darkened room with all the cool lights and stuff, and it's being played really loudly, and people are dancing. Admittedly they're dancing Ceroc and as much as I enjoy this song I'm not so sure that it's a song to do spins and dips and fancy armography to, but at least there is dancing happening. Anyway, I was really enjoying it, and it struck me that it's an almost perfect full moon party song - to be danced to on a beach or in a rainforest or something (I know beach is more traditional, but the one I went to out in Cairns was out in the rainforest so that's more what I tend to think of), whilst wearing a bikini top and surrounded by other nicely tanned travellers, all a bit drunk and singing along whenever it gets to the 'OOOOOHHHHH' bit even though you don't know any of the other words. There are people doing fire poi or juggling, you only met everyone about an hour ago but already people are hooking up...in short, this song made me want to drop everything and jet off to the other side of the world to be a hippy, broke traveller again.


So imagine my disappointment when today I googled what words of the song I could remember to find out who it was by and stuff, and discovered THIS:



I really hope you watched the video-less clip first so that you will have been able to have a brief enjoyment of the song before tainting it in your mind forever by being forced to associate it with such cheesy, corporate-sponsored crap. THERE ARE CGI MASCOTS! THIS SONG CAN NEVER BE COOL AGAIN. I'm so upset. I wanted bikinis and bare-chested Canadians in the rainforest and instead I got Shaggy in a stadium dancing terribly in a tracksuit whilst this little animated...THING breakdances. And I cannot unwatch it. And now, NEITHER CAN YOU.

Thus, occasionally, blindness please.

I don't know why, but I ended up teasing a couple of guys the other day about them getting together to play Risk - or, as I suggested, Strip Risk.  Now I don't know how to play Risk in any case, but the resultant discussion as to how one would actually devise rules for Strip Risk got me thinking.  So here is a really stupid meme for you:


What is your favourite board game/other game of your choice, and what would be the rules of the strip version?

Mine: Scrabble.  The rules I have just made up for Strip Scrabble are as follows:

Score fewer than 10 points - lose 1 item of clothing
Score more than 25 points - win 1 item of your clothing back
Utilise a double word score - claim 1 item of clothing from another player
Utilise a triple word score - everyone (including you) loses 1 item of clothing
Play all your letters - everyone except you gets naked


/end stupidity.

Shit. Now I'm going to have to root for JLS.

The first album I ever owned was What's The Story? (Morning Glory) by Oasis. It's still maybe my favourite album ever. Champagne Supernova is possibly my favourite song ever. So to see them play live, to stand in the midst of a crowd of people watching (or hearing, at least!) Wonderwall, or Don't Look Back in Anger, or Champagne Supernova, singing along with thousands of other people who love those tracks just as much as you do, is just a priceless experience.

I have to give full credit to davidcamp here, for choosing to take me, aralias and Anna as birthday presents for each of us. He is awesome and he knows it. Thanks Dave.

Anyway, I loved it. It wasn't pretty; making the decision to leave the others and attempt to worm my way forwards was probably a mistake - it was pretty vicious in there, and I don't even really want to think about what my ankles are going to look like tomorrow with all the kicks they received. I left soaked to the skin in what's probably an equal combination of sweat (mine and other peoples', ugh) and beer (not mine), and with aches all over. But it could have been much much worse. And I nearly cried during The Song. That's how much it gets me.

The other important thing that happened tonight was that I got a reminder that not all strange guys are assholes. There are still some pretty great people out there, and chivalry is not dead. Chivalry, by the way, rocks.

( How Band Guy saved my night )

Got back from Croatia last night (having totally forgotten to tell most people I was even going. Oops.) Was awesome - not a drop of rain the entire week. Glorious. Almost too hot for my delicate little constitution to cope with really - I had to spend a lot of time darting between patches of shade - but it's an exchange I'm willing to make to escape soggy old England for a while.

Haven't got the photos off my camera yet but hopefully there'll be some good ones - Croatia is stunningly beautiful, full of history and lovely old architecture. I visited FOUR world heritage sites in a week. And I swam in the sea. The lovely lovely sea, with a high enough salt content that even my decidedly non-buoyant body had no trouble floating. And it had fish in it. And there were KITTENS. SO MANY KITTENS.

Not in the sea, obviously. But nearby.

Watching England beat Croatia 4-1 FROM CROATIA was a definite experience as well. Fantastic match. Would have been nice to be watching it in a bar with a few more locals around rather than just in the hotel (provided we made it out of there alive), and also to have been able to understand anything the commentators were saying, but it made me very happy nonetheless. Plus then I was able to have a conversation with a cute waiter about it the next day :D

I need to go back to spend more time there. Time to laze about, not trying to see everything there possibly was to see in a short space of time. Mmmm holidays.

So it's all officially over. Graduation on Friday was mostly long and anticlimactic (asides from the part where I nearly missed the ceremony because we missed the part on the tickets where it said you had to be seated half an hour early, and we were in Kenilworth waiting for our wonderful wonderful lunch which had to be bolted down criminally quickly so we could hare it back to campus just within the deadline and then they could punish me for my lateness by making me hover outside the doors for 10 minutes whilst they counted everyone else. But apart from that, it was anticlimactic). I didn't trip going on stage. My robes didn't fall off, but only thanks to some last minute pinning (seriously...I get that the hoods are not attached to the robes because everyone wears different colours etc, but could you not consider, say, BUTTONS? Two dressmaking pins per person do not sturdy outerwear make).

Mostly, it consisted of speeches. Lots of very long speeches about how awesome we were, and how awesome the people getting special awards were, and how especially awesome the university was. Not Awesome, though, was the woman doing the (v v long) introductory speech for the guy getting an honourary degree - some famous Shakespeare buff named Stanley Wells. Stanley Wells, sadly, has recently committed the crime of writing a book entitled 'Is it true what they say about Shakespeare?', prompting the American woman introducing him to CONSTANTLY go "Is it true what they say about Stanley Wells, that he [insert accomplishment here]? YES, it is true. And is it true what they say about Stanley..." Etc. You had to feel embarrassed on her behalf, really.

Photos will follow...whenever they arrive, really. I do not expect them to be good though - a mortarboard is clearly not a good look for me. Then again, I hate pretty much everyone's graduation photo that I have ever seen so I guess I will just be following tradition.


It doesn't matter anyway, because the graduation photo, whatever it looks like, will not truly be representing the culmination of my university experience. That picture came two days later, on a hillside somewhere outside Basingstoke, with 22 wonderful people - new friends and old - sunshine, really really loud music, and lots and lots of dancing.



It was a good way to finish things off. A very good way. Tales of the debaunchery will come later, I'm sure, but for now - just tell me we look awesome. It's what the Warwick speech writers would do ;)

I just got back from watching the touring production of Evita in Woking, which was absolutely fantastic - and just happened to be starring Seamus Cullen, off of Any Dream Will Do. He's this guy: 


Somehow this was a complete surprise to me...I knew that Seamus was going to be starring in a production of Evita but for some reason my brain didn't make the connection at all until we were arriving at the theatre and I saw a poster much like this one and thought 'hmm, I recognise that name. ...and that face... OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD',

 He was really good anyway.  The beginning seemed a little dodgy - maybe because he'd decided play the role as a cynic making fun of proceedings which I wasn't expecting, and I also felt like he was overacting  a bit...but that could easily be because we were RIGHT AT THE FRONT YAY and he was trying to give gestures and expressions that would still be clearly visible from the back.  As the show went on he really seemed to settle into things though, and he really commanded the stage.  I could hardly stop watching him, although that may be because he's cute as well.  Though surprisingly short (I assume that this is the case, and not that the rest of the male cast were unnaturally tall).  I can't help thinking that is must be a pain to have to be on stage pretty much the entire time, every night, watching, reacting to and commenting on proceedings even at points when you're not meant to be the centre of attention but he definitely seemed really in character. 

As for Louise Dearman playing Evita, she was absolutely amazing - beautiful beautiful voice.  I almost cried during her death scene.  If you're in England and have the chance to go see it I'd definitely recommend it anyway - my mum's seen the show three or four times now, including when Che was being played by David Essex, and she reckons this was the best one.  And I'm on a musical high right now :)

Spent last night wearing way way way too much bronzer, lipliner, a miniskirt and my slut boots, and waiting to 'kiss' the protagonist of my friend's film on camera and then throw up on him.  Without cuts.

It must have been the least realistic kiss ever seen...we had to accomplish it by having me take a mouthful of beer beforehand, then try to give the appearance of having a passionate kiss whilst not actually being able to move my lips or open my mouth at all because I had to keep hold of a mouthful of liquid.  Then gagging had to be simulated (mid-kiss...though given that I do not drink beer, hate the taste and cannot even handle having a large mouthful of toothpaste in my mouth for any length of time, I was pretty concerned that fake retches were becoming real retches on occasion), before drawing back to...yeah, pretend to vomit up the beer.  All over him.

We had to do three takes before the director was satisfied with the 'vomit splatter', with the lead being dried off with a hairdryer in between, and me having to practise into the sink (with people giving advice on technique...now there's a conversation I'm sure many people never thought they'd have).  Everyone seemed to be having fun anyway, in a sort of horrified and disgusted manner.  The guy took the whole thing very well, claiming he was really enjoying himself.  I guess I was as well...I'd thought he was kinda a twat for most of the evening, so I wasn't that heartbroken about repeatedly spitting 'vomit' in his face.  And I guess the fact that he took the whole thing in stride makes him a bit less of a twat.  So everyone comes out of this quite well.

Unless, of course, either of us ever becomes famous.  In which case we can now sleep soundly at night, knowing that we have completed the clip that will be used to embarass us on tv talk shows at a later date.  That shot of me playing the little donkey in the school nativity aged 7 can now rest in peace.

Ok so it's been a while since I've posted, due to revision and shit (I have another exam tomorrow.  It will be 3 hours of essay writing.  My hand hurts just thinking about it) and I have quite a lot to say, but I'm not going to talk about any of it right now.  I actually want to talk about something that's partly inspired by a post by t_asperaand her referring to Hitler as one of the most evil men who ever lived, and also by some arguments I've had a couple of times with my mum.

So here's the thing:  I don't believe in evil.  

Not just in an 'I don't believe in Satan' type way, but in an 'I don't believe there is such thing as an evil person' type way.  Newspapers do it a lot, especially tabloids.  They'll talk about a criminal as a sick, evil individual and stuff like that, and it always jibes strangely with me, because I just don't think it's a description you can use.  Nobody is inherently evil.  People do bad stuff.  Truly, deeply, horrible stuff.  And sometimes they do it on purpose, and because they enjoy it.  But...to me, I think of 'evilness' as being a total extreme, as doing something purely because it is evil, and taking joy in it.  People in books and movies do that occasionally.  You get these figures in fantasy books who are trying to destroy the world or something just because...because they can I guess, I don't know.  But you don't get that in real life.

In real life, people can always find some sort of justification for their actions.  There's always a reason for it, some way in which they can convince themselves that they have a good reason to do what they do.  I don't think Hitler was evil.  Hitler believed that everything he did, all that death and destruction he incited - even the Holocaust, though please believe me that I am not trying to be offensive when I say this.  I am fully aware of how awful that was, how we don't even have the words to describe it within language.  But it is still a part of this - he believed that it was all for a higher purpose, some greater design.  He was totally insane, but he believed that.  I don't think Osama Bin Laden is evil.  I think he believes that he is doing God's work, and that he will be rewarded for it some day.  Nobody thinks of themself as an evil person.  Hell yes, I believe that there are evil acts.  But unless the person who is committing them is fully aware that what they are doing is evil, can not justify it to themselves in any way, and goes ahead and does it anyway, I don't think you can call a person evil.  They're just wrong.  Obviously a stronger word would be better there, but I can't think of one right now.  'Misguided' fits even worse.  But that's how I feel about it.

Admittedly, I find it a lot harder to justify this theory in terms of paedophiles and rapists and so forth, though I think to some extent even they have found some way to convince themselves that it is somehow ok for them to do this.  But people who murder, I think they almost always believe that they have a good reason.

So when I'm reading a book or watching a movie that's using the whole 'good vs evil' plotline (I present Transformers to you.  What the hell is going on there?  Why is Megatron doing all this again?) I can enjoy it just fine (well, maybe not Transformers...), but it's not something that I can ever use in my own writing.  People have light and shade, they have their good traits and their bad traits, but one thing that everyone has in common is that they believe that, somehow, they are the good guys.  I don't think the word 'evil' is one that I'm ever going to use seriously, outside of posts like this.  But I know a lot of people feel differently.

So I guess at this point I'm going to open it up to you guys.  If you're offended by anything I've written here, I'm sorry.  I guess I should point out that just because I'm arguing against the use of the word 'evil' here, that doesn't make me in any way less horrified that the stuff I've mentioned here goes on.  It just makes me a bit pedantic.  But if you want to disagree with me, please do - provided you're polite about it, and I'm sure you all would be anyway, I think all debate is healthy and I'm genuinely interested in seeing what you have to say.  I won't be offended by anyone disagreeing with me anyway. 

And, poll.  Please feel encouraged to discuss as much as you want in the comments as well - I think it'd be really cool to see how different people feel about this.

Last night Rich went off to Birmingham with a friend for another all-night rave.

This morning I was woken up at something-to-7 by him knocking on my door wanting to know if I'd locked his room.  Which I hadn't, obviously.  And neither had Nick.  Turned out he had gone to Brum taking just his bank card and his front door key, leaving his room unlocked.  When he came back the door was both closed and locked...with the keys inside.  And also his laptop and all his valuables.  We hoped, anyway.

Cue half an hour or so of trying to get the door open with a virgin megastores student card or by picking the lock, all the whilst the three of us racking our brains to try to work out how anyone could possibly have gotten into the house without me noticing.  The bathroom window, which was open all day?  No, because I was in the living room most of the evening and even when I left it was to go to my room right next to Rich's, so I'd have heard.  After I went to bed?  No, I actually decided that it might be a good idea to shut the ground-floor window beforehand.  My bedroom window?  Well good luck getting past my impossible blinds and white duvet without leaving any marks.  And then surely they'd just have nicked my laptop straight off.  The front door in the interval between Nick coming home and then relocking it?  No, because he was downstairs the whole time.  And so forth.  We were all half convinced that someone had managed to spirit themselves into the house, perhaps hiding in Fay's unlocked bedroom until the coast was clear, and then waited until we were asleep to go to Rich's room, steal his stuff and...lock the door?  Or something.

Well eventually I remembered that we still had that ladder we borrowed in the garden from the time Rich and I went thieving last autumn, so we put it up to his window and he went up and looked through, and his stuff is all still there.  The room key is lying on his bed. 

So we still don't know how it managed to shut and lock itself.  But we still have not managed to break in.  And because we're not allowed the landlord's phone number or anything we can't contact him about it, and we're supposed to contact the estate agents if we have any problems.  But they're not open on Sundays, and so Rich is still locked away from everything he owns apart from the clothes he's wearing, his phone, his bank card and his front door key.  It's all...pretty funny actually.  I know this makes me a bad friend, but secretly I think it's hilarious.

Gonna be less hilarious when we have to break the door down though, I'm thinking.  Less hilarious, more expensive.  Lock picking is turning out to be an important skill to acquire.

Hee.  Enjoy sleeping on the sofa, Richy-boy. 


ETA: The boys couldn't kick the door in, because these locks are SERIOUS about preventing theft.  Nick just bashed a hole in one of the panels with a hammer until I could get my arm through and turn the catch.  Bits of door are littering the corridor.  It has been decided that this must not be allowed to happen again.

I really want to dye my hair.  I know it's bad for it and everything, but I am determined.

So this is what my colouring generally looks like:



I...don't even know what you'd call that.  Light brown I guess, but in different light it'll show up gold, or with red tones, or come across as much much darker.  Quite frequently though the colour just looks dull to me, and I want a change.

As you can see, I am very very pale, and have deep blue eyes.  I also have freckles but they're really faded at the moment.  My skin is very sensitive and can get blotchy, so I want a colour that's really going to enhance my skin tones and give my paleness a kind of translucent edge rather than being pasty.  Suggestions?  I'm thinking either a deep cinnamon-type red or really dark brown.  Or even trying black to be honest, but that would probably be too much for me.  Poll?  Oh, and if you have any pictures, I'd love to see them.

Ok guys, I'm on amazon looking at books to buy and I was hoping you might be able to make me a few recommendations for some fantasy novels I might enjoy.

Probably nothing too highbrow right now because I'm looking for stuff to use as respite in between revising things, but here's stuff I've read recently and stuff I like.  Maybe you know some other authors I can check out?

Young adult fantasy:  I have no prejudice against this.  I enjoyed the Twilight books to a pathetic degree.  Love Tamora Pierce as well.  I have most of those.  Sabriel, Lirael and Abhorsen are awesome.  I've read and enjoyed the Stravaganza series, and just today have read The Magician's Guild by Trudi Canavan.  I'll be ordering the rest of those.  Also have read A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray after seeing a couple of people on my flist rave about it.  I wasn't that impressed by it, but are the others better?  Worth trying?  Oooh, also love Narnia.
I am probably the only person in the world who doesn't really like His Dark Materials.  I just never really got all that excited about them.  The ideas are great but...no, I'm not a fan.  

Epic-type fantasy:  I used to love David Eddings, but I think now I've grown out of him a bit.  Rereading the Elenium was just a tragic experience when I suddenly realised it just wasn't very good.  I still do love Anna McCaffrey though, and am not ashamed to admit that I always cry when I read Dragonsong.  George R R Martin is my favourite author in the world.  I've also read LotR and been scared of Gollum, but I haven't managed the Silmarillion.  I'm a bit wary of starting any new fantasy series that sprawls over a massive amount of books anyway, because I have neither the time or the money to get obsessed by one.

Heroic fantasy:  Love love love David Gemmell, who can do almost no wrong, and I also rinsed my way through James Barclay's Raven books in the past few weeks.  Ilkar is my new imaginary boyfriend.  I am generally a fan of heroic fantasy anyway if it's well paced and well written.


So, what else should I try?

ps i  have tpon  take my contasth lens es lout now.

Drunk.  Saw Steop UP 2 in Birmingham with film people.  Lots of impossile breakdancing on concrete.  They would strip flesh to their bones if they tried to ACTUALLY do that oon the streets.  Fun though.  Ticks lots of tten movie cliche boxed.  Worth watching agagin.

Went to Wagamamas.  ate supposedly real japanese food that was  not sushif or the dirst time.  Grilled noodles v fat and hard to eat with chopsticks,  but foos was nice.  Wish had had desert.  More ginger, mmmm.  Also went to most awesome bar ever in old stock exchange.  Massive high roofed building with columns and carvings and paingings and big mahogany bar in center.

Love filn people.  ASpent all train journey bacl boitching about course and esaays and stuff.  Bumped into Rich and Nick on way home and turned around and went straight back to bar.  Well now does mojitos.  this was ice.  we didn't iwin anything on the game box thingy though.  I guessed Sherlock Homles when I should have guessed Poirot becayuse I am stupid.

nnd now I am hoe but there is stil britain's neft topmodel to watch.  Am in v good mood.  Life is nice :)

Poo to revision.