dark_litany: (Scully Ouroborus)
Well, there you have it - Brown's out and Cameron's in. But, as much as I hate Cameron's smarmy mug, I know a LibDem/Lab pact would have fallen apart in only a matter of time. At least with the Tories people can't bitch about the PM not having been voted in. Though, all the "kingmaker" business regarding Clegg has been so ironic - the Lib Dems did miserably in the General Election (even though I voted for them *sad face*) and yet Clegg was the one to decide who would ultimately be in government. He must have been cracking up over all the wooing going on, how all the parties were trying to seduce him with AV reforms. So, if we're going to have to suffer through Cameron as PM, at least we'll have the Lib Dems to dilute the Conservative toffs a bit.
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: (Hell BRB)
God, watching the leader debates results in equal amounts of hilarity and frustration. Hilarity because they're all squabbling like a bunch of kids on the playground and frustration because, well, the future leaders of the country are squabbling like a bunch of kids on the playground. It makes watching anything about the General Election quite tiring, emotion-wise. No wonder everyone in the country is so disaffected.

Mama has to forge my signature on the postal vote back home. I could have voted in Cardiff but I'd rather have my vote count round where I actually live. Had to scribble out my signature for her last time she was up in Wales, which apparently she's done a shoddy job replicating. I doubt they actually pay much attention to these things, anyway. I could always say I was slightly drunk when signing. Wouldn't make me look very reputable, dealing with serious political documentation while on the raz, but oh well.

I was looking up my constituency info on the BBC website and Hertfordshire South West is described as 'one of the most bizarrely shaped constituencies in the UK, which made me giggle. Apparently, Rickmansworth itself is one of the 'prime examples of the dormitory towns that dominate this predominantly middle-class part of the constituency'. Makes us sound all terribly posh and commuter-esque but just makes me think of those yobbos that like to hang out round the local shops and shout nonsense at you because you happen to pass by. What is it about chavs and their predilection for local convenience stores? And, also, 'dormitory towns' - I just imagine Rickmansworth looking like a giant Travelodge because of that.
dark_litany: (Bang - Dean Shoots You Down)
I'm taking a break from Shakespeare to blag on here instead. I swear, do textbook publishers have to choose the smallest font in existence when they print these books? The Norton Shakespeare has been giving me migraines for the past few hours. I've only just got to Act II of King Lear because of the evil print and I'm still hoping to reach the goal of starting Macbeth by the time I go to sleep. Damn Shakespeare and his need to cram symbolism into EVERY DAMN WORD. Makes writing notes pretty hardcore, especially when it comes to euphemisms for genitalia. He seems to be obsessed with penises and vaginas, the saucy playwright. And, last night, taking a break from Lear seemed to involve watching Pretty Woman on youtube. I don't even like Pretty Woman (everything seems cringeworthy and awkward between them) and I ended up sitting through most of it - I blame a Star Trek fanfic based on it, it was too well-written, damn it.

Ahaha, I just got a text from the Welsh Blood Service, thanking me for giving blood. It ends with the sentence 'you are extraordinary'. Why thank you.

Hayley and I got cornered by some socialist students after dinner yesterday. We were planning on popping over to Bute Park for an amble but ended up getting into a two hour conversation with these two girls wielding anti-tuition fee rise pamphlets. It was fun, though, delving into politics, and having a really satisfying and intellectual conversation about the General Election. Kate was laughing about how she outwitted Nick Clegg when he came to talk at the Union the other day, which would have been a laugh to witness. We were invited over to this polital gathering in the Aberconway block but I had to get back to Shakespeare and my bloody small-fonted-Norton.

Crazy conversations at dinner, too, with Simmy and some of the girls. We somehow ended up creating our own society on a floating island, should the BNP ever get in. The plan is: flee, set up a New Britain called Simmyopia (as Simmy would be our great overlord[lady?] and would hold the motto 'what I say is law', yet somehow be a cuddly dictator with soft authoritarian policies), and I'll be the entire Shadow Cabinet just so I can get a kick out of opposition (me and Simmy didn't reach a consensus over who would truly be controlling who) and the 'Where is the rum gone' rap will be our national anthem. The conversation got completely out of hand and so was completely hilarious and then somehow evolved into talking about Doctor Who and laughing about the Daleks. They did look weirdly like a girl group/power rangers fusion in the latest episode, though.

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