Numero Uno

May. 17th, 2010 11:10 am
dark_litany: (Captain Dork)
Well, that is that as they say - the deadline has been met, the work handed in and I am all essay-ed out. Leave the next bout of bullshitting to next year, as my bullshitting muscles now need a long rest for the working they got last night (this morning? Both?), say four or so months until third year trundles round (third year - now there's a terrifying thought).

I was such a loser, too, this morning - very first individual to squeeze their way past the library turnstiles when it opened at 8:30 (more like 8:40, the bastards), so I could print off some crap for my Pre-Raphaelite essay and was also the very first English-er to hand her essays in. Yeah, that's how eager I was to get rid of them: basically fired my way down to the Humanities building, raced up to the Lit department to find the room with the lights off and no one home for some essay collecting but luckily one of the secretary ladies told me they'd be round soon enough, so I went and waited in there like a boffin. So, that's right, I was the first student in the pile for the May 17th deadline. I should be proud of my geekery.

Instead, I would really like to sleep. But I promised Hayley a trip for ice cream/cake (now I'm thinking Caffe Nero and CAFFEINE) and my word is my honour, yadda yadda yadda, so I'm trying to brainwash myself into THINKING I don't need to sleep. You are a machine, Sinead, a machine, do you hear me?!

Perk up, dammit!
dark_litany: (Scully Glasses)
Huzzah, I've beaten the Myth and Modernism essay into submission and now just have to trundle through the Pre-Raphaelite one until I reach the academic finish line. I think this deserves a midway through, mini celebration! Or, I will just type on here and boast when really I should be ashamed that this is - well, now the day of the deadline - and I'm only just getting it done. For Christ's sake, I only read one of the books for my M&M essay THIS SATURDAY (hello, 'A Handful of Dust' by Evelyn Waugh). Though, this upside to that was it was fresh in my mind - I actually expected that essay to be a bitch to write and the PR one to be easy but I now suspect it might be the other way round. Plus, I seemed to contract this very odd academic mood while writing it that has now disappeared (I'm hoping hot chocolate and a half hour break to watch Phantom: Requiem for the Phantom might bring it back). Still got to sift through a load of art books, though, and find two paintings I want to bullshit about for 1600 words. And I've completely shamed myself by going ahead with the gender question. I always feel like such a failure when I go for the gender question - it's always the last resort or easy way out to English students. The lazy option, really.

Still, 1600 more words and I'll be free as a non-university student, slacker kind of person!
dark_litany: (Hell BRB)
Woah boy, have the last few days been crazy. As in, I-may-just-go-off-my-rocker crazy, so not the good sort. Between trying to get three essays typed up in the space of 24 hours (which involved one being written six hours before the deadline, cobbling together an entire essay at the last minute and trying to read 200 pages in an hour). I know I've stated before that I might as well join a community of bats and hang from the ceiling, as I seem to be made for nocturnal procrastination, but the last few days have been RIDICULOUS. Like right now - why the hell am I still awake after sleeping only four hours in the past 48? I should be sprawled across my bed, away in dreamland by now, not bullshitting a journal entry on here. The only logical answer is sleep deprivation has made me lose my marbles. Or perhaps hunger, as I haven't had breakfast and only had a solitary peanut butter sandwich to fuel all the academic yesterday. Hunger and sleep deprivation have to equal some pretty nutty things when combined.

What started off this little joy-ride into nocturnal living was the bloody general election. I blame David Dimbleby, who I have a bit of a perverse crush on, who hosted the entire affair - he was on there so long a facebook group called 'Petition to let David Dimbleby sleep' was floating round the internets. But I was there with him, waiting for that fatal moment when Hertfordshire South West would be announced, listening to all his snarky conversations with the politicians, wondering why the hell I felt the compulsion to stay up all night when I didn't need to. I'd like to think I was getting in the mood for Essay Weekend of Doom and Madness, which has now thankfully passed but will probably be repeated next weekend when my last two essays have to be in. But two essays has to be better than the sanity-breaking three I had in today. In truth, I never want to lay my eyes on those pieces of shite again. I feel embarrassed for the person who will have to shovel their way through all the bullshit. Though, knowing academic types, they'll probably focus on a comma splice or how you've put a comma in the wrong place within a citation. Yes, I spent at least half an hour last night making sure those bloody citations were correct - essay markers can get rather uppity about them, after all.

Christ, only a week to go and then I'm free. Then I'm going to utterly melt my brain by starting up an anime marathon and enjoying inane shoujo romances. I'm already preparing to buy Macross Frontier and Junjou Romantica (oh my lulz, I'll own a YAOI ANIME - HAVE I NO SHAME?!?!) off ebay, and this summer will probably be one big geek fest, like the last. Thankfully, mama is already resigned to the fact that I probably won't get a job over the holidays, so that'll make lazing around much easier. Plus, there will be the ultimate unleashing of the inner geek at the MCM Expo this month. I seriously want some cheesy anime merchandise, like a fluffy Mokona toy or something. Something absolutely ridiculous to add to my already staggering number of utterly superfluous knick-knacks in my bedroom.

Also had the Aberdare photo taken the other day for the hall's 125th anniversary - thought I had to get my mug onto it to seem social, so I braved the cold spot and did the dorky handwaving thing with the rest of the girls and so hope they get a nice picture out of it.
dark_litany: (Castiel Fuckery)
Is it bad that I feel sorry for all the wrong people in King Lear? I mean, is it some bad reflection on me that I like all the 'evil' characters so much more than the goodies? Albany is very arsewipe-y, after all, and seems to have a bit of the wife abuser about him (he tells Goneril 'you are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face', for god's sake!); Lear is a bit of a lost cause in my opinion and seems to deserve what he gets - he thinks Goneril and Regan have no cause to be annoyed when he goes around saying how wonderful and beauteous Cordelia is all the time. I'd be pretty pissed off by that, too. Besides, Cordelia is a bit of a sop. I never care when her body's dragged onto the stage because she's so boring. Maybe that's why WS kills her off - she's too boring to live. I bet he secretly loved all his evil characters - must be why he kills off the heroes, too, in all the tragedies. You only have to look at Macbeth to see his rather ambiguous take on the hero and morality. He makes you SYMPATHISE with the murderer.

And Edmond just seems like he needs a bit of love from his papa or a good cuddle - I'd be plenty resentful, too, if my father when about telling every Tom, Dick and Harry the manner of my conception like it was some sort of shiny memory of familial bonding. It brings to mind all those times daddy told random convenience store clerks that I didn't eat vegetables. Yeah, that was weird. Also, I've always thought, 'yet Edmond was beloved' was one of the most poignant - and in some ways most defiant - of lines in Shakespeare's plays. Plus, it helps that he has the sexy villain thing on his side, even if Shakespeare seems to suffer with OOC-ness at the end when he makes Edmond have a sudden change of heart for absolutely no reason, besides the fact he's dying. He should have gone out with a real, proper, villain cackle.

But why does WS have to make Goneril and Regan so STUPID by the end? They start out all taking control from the men, wielding swords and seducing people, and then they just end up squabbling over some bloke. It's so frustrating.

But, anyway, onto Macbeth now, which should be fun. Or not. Reading Shakespearean tragedies in a row is kind of starting to make me feel like slitting my wrists. I should start a death tally or something because it is RIDICULOUS how many people WS kills off. I bet he was a bloodthirsty bastard who was all like, 'oh, go on, let's just kill off another one. And maybe one after that? And then another just to complete the set?' You, William Shakespeare, are a sadist.
dark_litany: (Captain Dork)
Someone seems to have gone mad with post-it notes down my corridor - I went out to brush my teeth and only noticed a bright blue one blutacked to my door when I was opening it. Some of them seem to have little factoids on them, like how much a certain chocolate bar costs and information about some pertinent law, but mine just says, 'You are perfect just the way you are', with a smiley face just for good measure. It seems completely random but kind of cute as a gesture.

And, also, I didn't die from sheer tiredness in my lectures today - talking to Ieva before the Gothic Novel lecture got into full swing seemed to animate me; and then Louisa furtively trying to eat a packet of Steak & Onion crisps at the back of Pre-Raphaelite art made me laugh so much I didn't really think about sleep deprivation. Plus, she dragged me out shopping with her in town, we happily walked back to hers in the sunshine, sporting gigantic Thorntons ice creams (a scoop of Honeycomb Crunch and Tempting Toffee for me, mmmm), and then acted all girly over picking out outfits for her radio speech and squeeing over Padalecki in Gilmore Girls. So, not generally tired for the rest of the day and didn't even get any work done past dinner, as Hayley coaxed me into her room like a was some sort of small animal, with offers of chocolate. I spent the next two hours cuddling her Bernardo's teddy bear and remarking on French tourists.

Productivity = 0
Procrastination = I think we're beyond actual figures here.


dark_litany: (Default)

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