bored? well, obviously

Really, what is so interesting about weather? And what weird things are going on now?

I've decided that it's That Time Of Year again - that time of year when the sun shines like a big bowling ball and it's finally warm and picnicky and happy tree weather.
I don't know why I've decided this, because:

1. It is never warm in Ireland. Ever. In June it rains and in July there is usually one day when you can go without a jacket. Maybe.
2. It is winter here. In fact, yesterday was the 2-degree-cold Winter Solstice. It was dark by five.

this is meant to be the winter solstice.
Come on, it's kind of cool.

So, I'm not exactly sure where I was going with the whole Summer thing. Maybe because, strangely enough, it looks like summer outside. And if you wake up at eleven and walk down to the shops, you can wear sunglasses and a shirt and you really don't need a jacket.

And, because of this Winter/Summer weather (wummer? sinter?), weird stuff's been GOING ON.
(Well, it's got something to do with it)
Like this:

1. have started watching reality TV (people who are housewives and like, love it, darling, people who live on Shores, people who date footballers, people who don't date footballers, people who live on farms, people who don't live on farms...)

2. am so confused about the (cold/not cold) weather situation that I've been wearing a conglomeration of weird long-sleeved layers and grandfather jumpers and Christmas socks. Then I heard that this winter only lasts, like, a month. A month! What! What am I going to do with all the ribbed socks I've bought? Throw them away? Save them for real winter?

superfluous socks...
the worst kind of sock

3. I'm drinking Lemsip. In June. I'm drinking Lemsip in June. That is something that is just wrong.

4. I've started running. No, wait, I've started waking up and going I Think I'd Like A Run Today. I'm becoming one of those exercise people I hate.

Maybe it's time to read a self-help book or something. Maybe all this is just me with nothing to do. Or maybe I've actually crossed over into a parallel universe where the weather is weathery, the TV is real, and it looks like summer when, goddammit, it just isn't.

Bon Blog!

And here are some Things That Might Be A Little Bit Interesting:

this cutesy homemade indie mag from Australia called Frankie - there are far worse ways of spending your time than reading about Benedict Cumberbatch and people who draw for a living!

annnndd... because I have been watching so much Australian telly, and because I have realised that said Australian telly is brimmed-full with ads, I have become friendly with some of these ads, such as the ones for Kia (now I can say iPod Connectivity and Big Boot Space and Seats Eight Comfortably in a pretty authentic accent) and the one for South Australia which has this song from Into The Wild called Rise by Eddie Vedder in it. Check it out, it's like going out to the beach and, I don't know, drawing your name in the sand or something.

the swot, the slacker, and some bad exams

The usual suspects of the exam hall, all compared to the master of brain-related exploits, the Brain from Pinky and the Brain

The more familiar you become with exam halls, the more familiar you become with those that lie within. And who are they? The swot, the overconfident one, and, everyone's favourite, the slacker. Bon appetite.

1. The One Who Thinks They Know Everything

thinks is the Brain. Is not the Brain.

Before:
Ugh. Met her at the start of my first exam. She was chattering away at full speed to a group of vaguely interested onlookers about how she 'read this great book about ha ha Chaucer ha ha'.
This is NOT FUNNY. What is funny about that? We all read a great book about Chaucer. It was on our bloody course.

What not to say: The above two sentences.

During:
You can just see her. Scribbling notes down like the new time. Asking for more paper. Looking anxiously around. Fixing her nails. Going to the bathroom. Asking questions that go unanswered. Taking off her jumper. Putting it on. Scratching her leg. Drinking water. Eating.
Distracting it may be, but it is a bit of a funny meltdown.

After:
Comes out laughing. Chats about how she 'didn't know it but answered it anyway' (followed by an expectant look: what do you want, a round of applause?) then sweeps off to go and get coffee before the next exam.

See Also: don't bother, this one's in a league of her own

2. The One Who 'Doesn't Know Anything' But Actually Knows Everything

is actually the Brain

Before:
'Stressing' about how he doesn't know anything, peering out over his perfectly-ordered folder.
Seriously, he says, I know nothing!

What not to say: 'I know nothing!' - you'll only encourage him.

During:
Scribbling like a madman, scratching tiny, beautiful words into the yellow paper with his one pen. Finishes 10 minutes before the end and spends that time LOOKING OVER IT.
(Who does that?)

After:
Quietly agreeing with everyone who tells him they failed. Definitely, he says, didn't know anything.
But we know. Oh, we know. We see that twinkle in his wily eyes. We know that he knows, well, everything.

See also: the Eager Beaver, the Perfectionist, the Overconfident Achiever


3. The One Who Actually Doesn't Know Anything

is nothing like the Brain

Before:
She's late. She doesn't have her student card but evades a fine like all good slackers.

During:
Writes idly, like she's doing a crossword (I don't think she knows what a crossword is, though). Draws on her arm and is given out to by the supervisor. Goes to the bathroom every 15 minutes before leaving after an hour.

After:
Probably spent the last hour of the exam outside smoking. Because that's where she is when everyone else comes out. Overheard talking about 'some Medieval shit' to a cool friend.

See also: The 'Why Not?' Repeat Student, The Too Cool For School Kid

I haven't planned ahead enough to tell you what I'll be writing about next, but meantime look at these:

http://funnyexam.com/ - as seen on the Graham Norton show and including such gems as this:

And catch up with the Brain again: 

http://www.warnervideo.com/pinkyandthebrain/

Bon Blog!

monday knight madness

You know you've hit a low point in your life when you find yourself saying - actually saying, aloud, like talking - 'Mordred is king? Tch, I don't want Mordred to be king! What? Who wrote this? WHO WROTE THIS?'

Welcome to the bottom of the world. The pit, if you will, of doom.

That's the kind of thing I'm saying to myself at 7 o'clock on a Monday night while other people are getting ready to go out, get the shift, get moving, get pizza, or get something. The only thing I'm getting is annoyed because some 15th century dude made Mordred king while Arthur was in France. And then he let him take over and ruin everything. Well, he let the people let him take over. It's a long story.
(Should've said Spoiler Alert there really - sorry for ruining all those surprises.)

The worst part is, I don't even hate Mordred that much. Why am I talking to myself about something I don't even care about? The only reason I even know who he is is because I've got a tutorial on the Death of Arthur in two days. I'm not into the fantasy genre. The only thing I knew about Guinevere before I read it was that her name sounded sort of like Genevieve, and Keira Knightley played her in that crap Clive Owen version. Before last week Mordred wasn't even a thing.

... so that's what was happening in Camelot when Mordred took over

the purpose of mountains

I was bored, so I found this picture of a goat

After I went to Barcelona I came home with a cold and wrote a Really Bad story about a mountain. I wish I had put a bear in the story because then it might have been less bad. I spent the whole day thinking about mountains and weather and what winter is like in the mountains and what birds sound like there (conclusion: they sound the same) and what kind of mountains they have in America - when I was supposed to be doing some Greek - or possibly Roman- related essay thing. Sigh. Boredom leads to a whole new world where mountains are Interesting and Important and bears are simply an afterthought. In the land of boredom, mountains have colours and contours and stretch up to the white sky. That's if they're in Ireland. If they're in America, I figure that they've got houses on them with blue gardens. In Peru they're like orange roads through the desert.

I like them. They're more boring than volcanoes. Volcanoes are always causing havoc and strife and exploding all over the place. Mountains are like, yeah, I've got magma. But I'm old and tired and bored of erupting. I want to stay here and watch Midsomer Murders and possibly have a biscuit and maybe another and then I'll just lie here and sleep for a while.

That's mountains for you.

punctuation lessons

... another Important Thing

Thought punctuation was all about the commas and apostrophes? Think again. As I discovered today, there is a whole other world of punctuation out there that I was horrifically unaware of. The shame! THE SHAME! Oh, it’s horrible, it’s horrible. Not knowing this kind of USEFUL information meant that I would be more suited to giving tours of Machu Piccu than ‘reading’ English. When I lived in those dark times of Not Knowing How To Put A Line Into My Essay, I would have been better at pointing out historical archaeological details about a place that I had never been to than sitting down reading something that had been written in the 1700s by some guy with five slaves and 300 acres. Without even considering the question, To Put In Inverted Commas or Not To Put In Inverted Commas, I was blind to the real study of English. The Real Stuff.

But, all jokes aside, seriously.
Seriously. One day in front of the television and I’d learn what the weather was like in Turin. One day in an English class and I learn that when you use the dash (‘The Hyphen’), you must leave a space either side so that the lecturer correcting your essay won’t have an actual stroke. It transforms this sentence of made-up words that my lecturer likes to pontificate with, from this

Neutrally explicified-

To this:

Neutrally explicified –

I know. Totally different, right?

the questionable land of punctuation marks

transfer deadline day!

Day 1: Important

Why? Because it's Transfer Deadline Day in the Premier League, of course. Almost the most Important day of the Season! Almost.

Hold on to your pants. It’s here. The day that you’ve been waiting for since last year’s transfer market closed. The day that promises everything. 

The day that breaks hearts.
Yes, you guessed it, probably from the name of the blog post, but it’s TRANSFER DEADLINE DAY! And Sky Sports News- SSN to those of us in the know (you know who you are, friends. Do not be afraid. Come into the light, and do not deny your dedication to the cause of bringing sports news to everyone. The rich. The poor. The plebs who lack Sky Sports 1)- has gone all-out. The reporters are out in force. The countdown timer is, well, counting down. That blonde one with the shiny teeth is getting uncharacteristically excited about a possible loan move for someone called Pizarro. The brunette with the square blue dress is overly concerned about Rangers rejecting something (someone?) from Norwich City. And there are many warnings of flash photography. There are important-looking men in suits getting into black cars. There are red-faced reporters standing outside stadiums. There are fans being interviewed. There are yellow bands of BREAKING NEWS looping around the screen. It’s a love-hate situation, and this time, I choose love.