tooth soup

Woah. How the hell did I get here? The vision of a small dried worm blinking against a vast expanse of snow is a sight unfamiliar to me for the last few weeks and I dare say that the light quanta being projected onto my retinas as of this moment is more comforting to me than any that have been rocketing out of the computer for that same period of time.

In short; Ah, journal! How I have missed thee!

I have just completed my last assignment for the semester, a workbook comprising of 32 pages of uncompromisingly brilliant code that deconstructs, reconstructs and generally plays silly buggers with time series data of varying tenacity and repugnance. Because I was bored and also because I hadn’t realised that I had finished more than I thought I decided to go through and make it pretty also. Matching the text colour in my Word document to that of the program we used to produce the text. I am hoping that such small details will give me an extra few marks towards that holy, golden 100%. And considering that each mark earned in the workbook is worth 3 times that earned in the actual exam, I am safe in not appearing to be a marks-grubber as so often such aesthetically minded people are accused.

I am now one-third possessor of a house not two-hundred metres from my last paid residence. This one has larger bedrooms and some fascinating stains on the walls, so I am proclaiming it better than the last. The rent is the same as I was paying in the last house so I know that I am able to cope with it. I actually think I will save money while I am there since I will not be paying for half as much petrol as I usually do, and my monthly internet bill that I pay now ill be getting split between three people. At the very least I won’t lose money. I am pretty excited about the move as it is one that I think will increase my general psychological health (independant once more), my general fitness (riding to uni every day) and my general sex life (much easier to retain horniness over ten minute drive than thirty-five minute one).

I am also (finally) getting excited about my Melbourne trip. The notion has been hiding timidly behind my brain-stem for the past few weeks; peeking out occasionally to remind me that there is a very good reason why I should be doing exams, working or, indeed, waking up. But now that all distractions are gone it has jumped full force into my frontal lobe, making the prospect of work enticing rather than debilitating and lending its weight behind the perking up of my beleaguered spirits. I am planning on having roughly two-thousand of your Australian dollars to spend while on my trip, which should afford me one hell of a reasonable time. Melbourne, be cautioned; I wish to purchase your clothes.

I should apologise to all that have been in a three mile, roughly spherical proximity to me during the last month or so. Exams are always a catalyst to bringing out my usually-well-hidden periodic cycle of excitedness/bummed-out-ness and I tend to project this in a series of ill-thought-out and/or conflicting statements regarding my current mental health and feelings towards one thing/person or another. Most likely all my statements had an element of truth in them, but the stress that I involuntarily place my mind under during exam period tends to get the importances of each out of whack. I will have to write a letter to myself, or to another third party, in order to fully work out what I’m feeling right now. Or mayhap I could express it through interpretive dance? Who knows.

Recently I embarked on a glorious journey with a few common room regulars (Pat, Tim, Kev, Will, Amy and myself) into the world of Jaygerbombing. The scenario was thus: the train lines were down so we couldn’t visit a pub where John the Irishman was working so we decided to go back to the physics common room and drink a heap of Jaygerbombs. For the uninitiated these are the drinks that happen when you take a shot of Jaygermeister(sp?) and drop it into a half-glass of Red Bull energy drink before downing the whole lot as fast as your throat can handle it. Four bottles of the anaseed-flavoured drink were consumed and many headaches were produced the next morning as a result. I for one had a few nasty hours of feeling very flippy-floppy in the stomach while Louise got ready for work (Oh yes, she picked me up while I was in a very bad state – such a nice girl). Fortunately I can take comfort in the fact that I didn’t wake up completely naked down three flights of stairs in a building with security cameras – a fate consigned to only one member of the party whom shall remain nameless until such a time as he wishes to be named.

I had the most urgent compulsion to paint last night at around midnight. I’m hoping that I will experience a repeat instinct. And with that, I should really get going to work.
Well met.

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