2003-11-08 5:26 p.m.
Back to the University of doom tomorrow and I've not finished that critical analysis yet.
I wonder what pleasures are in store for me this week then? Perhaps the really exciting quiz at the student union bar tomorrow, or the kareoke night at The Dev on Thursday. The possibilities are endless. Who needs all nighters at Rockworld when you have the delights of Alsager?
Of course there's also the small matter of having to deal with people from University too. I'm meeting Anto tomorrow to have 'a talk about what we want and how we are going to carry on with each other'. That sounds omenous, doesn't it? The plan is to look really fit, extremely so, and act all aloof and like I dont care. Fuck being honest about my feelings, that never works. I think he's expecting me to have thought of some way for us to sort out this mess. I've thought and thought about it, but it's not really the sort of thing you can just plan is it? Although it was 'just seeing how things go' that got us into this mess.
God, why couldn't I just have gone to a proper University? When I'm back home in Manchester everything seems so much easier. There's actually a wide range of people to hang around with and you dont have to see the same fucking people every single day. It's doing my had in already and I've not even got back yet.
And finally....
October is breast cancer awareness month. Please click onto www.thebreastcancersite.com , then on the pink window in the middle.
The Breast Cancer site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to an underprivileged woman.
This DOES NOT COST YOU A THING.
Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammograms in exchange for advertising.
With over 1000 members clicking on once a day we could make a HUGE differance as a group.
Thanks for your time & please pass the word on.
http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/cgi-bin/WebObjects/CTDSites
Please post this in your journals and spread the word.
2003-11-07 12:37 p.m.
You should never, ever have to go back to the body piercers and have tell them what they did wrong with your piercing after finding out they made a huge, huge mistake after doing half an hour’s research on the Internet.
Apparently a horizontal eyebrow piercing is a surface piercing and should be treated as such. Alright, so most of you don’t have a clue what I’m going on about, and neither did I until I saw this. After reading that I just realised it’s common sense, isn’t it really? It should be absolutely blindingly obvious to anyone with any knowledge at all about piercings that you should not shove a straight bar in there. Did the guy who butchered my eyebrow have any common sense? Did he bollocks. He had no idea what he was doing and just shoved a regular barbell in there and hoped for the best.
Luckily the clown wasn’t around today, and the actual owner of the place apologised profusely. He totally blamed the other guy, even though I went to the owner yesterday and it didn’t occur to him then that I was wearing completely the wrong jewellery. No, he didn’t realise until I pointed it out. So he changed it to a curved bar, after much struggling and cursing because he couldn’t manage to unscrew the original bar. A body piercer, while he is messing about with your face should never ever say the words “oh shit, fucking hell”.
He has offered me a free piercing if my eyebrow doesn’t heal properly, but I think I might pass on that. But this looks a lot better than this, no?
And finally, do I have too much metal in my face?
2003-11-06 5:18 p.m.
I decided to hobble into town to the library today. The plan was to spend the entire day there but I got up late so by the time I got there it was 2 o clock anyway. I found absolutely bugger all to help with the critical analysis of doom, however I did meet a slightly insane girl who randomly offered me a smartie. In the end I was only there for an hour and a half but it was worth it because I've finally got my head around psychological social psychology and sociological social psychology. It's not rally that difficult anyway, but I had a terrible hangover during the lecture about it and was incapable of listening. Ah, I just love to make things difficult for myself.
Anyway, I gave up to go shopping. Decided to venture back into Primark after my last traumatic experience in there when the fire alarm went off while I was trying on a bra. Having some bitch who works there open the curtain while you're getting changed and shouting at you to get out is not a pleasant experience. Everyone knows that fire alarms are hardly ever real anyway.
Oh, and I visited the body piercers too as I'm starting to resemble the elephant woman again. I couldn't even see one of the balls on my eyebrow bar this morning because it has sunk all the way in. Nice. I have to take Iboprufen and go back in a few days if it doesnt get any better, which is a bit of a bugger seeing as I dont actually live here. No time to worry about that though as I've decided that tonight is the night I'm going to acually finish that sodding critical analysis. Wish me luck.
2003-11-05 5:30 p.m.
Instead of revising for my social psychology exam I updated the pics section.
That is all.
2003-11-05 4:02 p.m.
After four hours altogether spent on the critical analysis of doom I only have another 300 words to go thank God. Only thing is I could do with reading up in some actual books, which means a trip into the library in town, only I'm not really supposed to walk anywhere seeing as I spazzed my leg up. Do you think a sprained ankle is a good enough excuse for an extention? Nah, me neither. There's also this little voice inside of me that keeps telling me that I've done it all wrong. I've never been very sure of myself and recently things have gotten worse. I just dont feel like I'm capable of doing things properly. Dont even get me started on the social psychology exam I have next week. At the moment the mere words 'social psychology' give me a panic attack. I've not really been able to concentrate on revising for it either, as every time I sit down to it all I can think about is the critical analysis of doom.
Although I must say that at times it feels like a good thing that this sodding essay is taking over my life right now, leaving me unable to think of anything else. Thinking about Tom sodding Phillips and book art and the art world in general is certainly preferable to thinking about other things in my life right now.
Anyway, back to the grindstone.
2003-11-04 11:09 p.m.
Realising that it is 9 in the morning and you still haven't been to bed yet is not good. It's even worse if as you sober up you realise you've somehow done some serious damage to your ankle. Even worse again if you realise that one of the people you are sat up with, your friend's flatmate, is a complete tosser and obviously thinks the same of you. I tried my best to get along with him but gave up when he started slagging me off because I want to do clinical psychology and work with serial killers. Apparently because I believe that serial killers dont choose to kill I must support paedophiles too. I'm not even going to try and make sense of that because the ignorant fuck obviously doesn't have a clue what he is talking about anyway. Perhaps I wouldn't mind so much if he didn't sell drugs for a living.
Claire reminded me that at 5am this morning I phoned the landlady from work on her mobile by accident and woke her up. This is not good. I had to phone in sick this afternoon too, with a ligitimate excuse for once, and she probably thinks it's all lies and I was just hungover. As it happens I spent the evening in A&E getting my ankle looked at. Nothing is broken though, thank God. All I could think about was being on crutches for the last Shed Seven gig ever.
Then I phoned Anto when I got in because I was still pretty mashed and I told him I miss him, which is not good. What is even worse is that I really do miss him like you wouldn't believe. I thought that pulling someone else would help, but it didn't.
2003-11-03 1:47 p.m.
After another hour spent on the critical analysis of doom this morning I've got another 150 words done. Only another 600 to go. Still, it could be worse, I could be Gary. See Gary is the friend who annoyingly knows automatically what we have to do, and promised me he'd help me today. Only he can't because he's had to rush off home because two policemen turned up on his doorstep and told his dad there's a warrent out for his arrest as he was supposed to be in court last week. Gary knows absolutely nothing about this. T'is bizarreness on a stick. I suppose I'll have to spend the afternoon doing psychology related things instead, which I'm sure will be thoroughly enjoyable, only not.
I'm off to 5th Ave tonight and I'm more excited than a very excited thing, more excited than you'd ever believe. I can't even remember the last time I had the opportunity to dance to Shed Seven and the likes. Ah, Shed Seven, I reckon there will be a bit of drunken crying going on in the toilets tonight. Drunken crying, not phoning Anto, even if I do miss him and somehow feel as if I'm losing my best friend, kissing indie boys, talking bolloks to strangers and catching up with all of my 5th Ave people. I cant wait.
2003-11-02 8:46 p.m.
Anyone want to contextualise 'A Humument' for me? No? Anyone even have the slightest idea what I'm talking about? No? Me neither. Imagine my surprise and horror when I found out that as part of my writing course I'm going to be forced to study art in general. I've coped with this problem so far by generally being too hungover to listen in the lectures anyway, and by skipping the odd seminar. Only now I have an essay to write, which has to be in in just over a week, the essay question seeming to be written in German. My friend, who has pissed me off by apparently knowing automatically what we have to do, tells me that I have to 'say how it relates to the art world in general and talk about it's historical importance'. I'm still none the wiser and it took me an hour to write 250 words. Bollocks. But I'm optimistic, as I somehow believe that spending the entire day in Manchester central library on Wednesday looking shit up is somehow going to magically fix it. As if just being in the library will magically make the answers come to me. I hope so anyway, otherwise I'm fucked.
Anyway, sod this, I've done three and a half hours of work altogether today (which is loads and loads) so I'm going to spend the rest of the night watching Final Destination.
embryo-
carcass
Latest entry
