Thursday, October 28, 2004

Evolution

At this point in time, I have just finished a king-sized Snickers bar and a king-sized Twix for lunch so forgive me if my arguments just bounce off walls and my manner appears, ever so slightly (actually very much) ungraceful.

Mankind can come up with the most patronizing and incredulous excuses for believing in everything and anything except acknowledging the existence of Almighty God (here, I don't consider the whole I-feel-there-is-some-power-out-there as 'acknowledgement' of the Trinity) therefore, God's Truth that he will one day judge the world. Based on what Christians believe about evolution (and I will expound/ expand/ talk more about this further down), I quote someone I talked to today,
"I think that God is so powerful that He could make it all work out in the right way." What she meant to say (surely) was,
"I believe we evolved from primates and possibly am related in some bizzare way to the piece of fish that finds its way as the other half of fish and chips on my platter." How did we come to the topic of evolution?

It's splashed over the news today. A 3 foot tall homo something from Indonesia is the new missing link! Yeah, sure. I'm not that far off 3 foot and I wouldn't consider myself a missing link to humanity. The artist's impression of the said 'link' drew it carrying some dead animal over its shoulders, which had nearly as much hair on its body the human carrying it. Stark naked as usual and looking rather forlorn and primitive. So everyone gathers round this picture and ooohs and aaahs over it. Oh, so THAT's what our ancestors looked like. I'm not saying that the discovery in Indonesia aint human. I mean, in Africa, there's the Baca (I think - I read this ages ago in Readers' Digest) tribe where the tallest male to date is no more than 5 feet tall because they don't go through the 'normal' growth spurt of other teenagers. I went through some sort of growth spurt so I'll just leave you to imagine how short I was before that :) They live in the jungle, have no access to the NHS, don't have the advantage of having supermarkets displaying shelves and shelves of vitamins or protein shakes and oh, get this, there's no Macdonalds to maximise their fat cells. So naturally, given their biological history and surroundings, they are short. If scientists work up such a hoo-ha over size, who's to say that THEY aren't the missing link? Remember the Piltdown man scandal? They found a skull of a human with the jaw of an ape and all the science world went ape over the matter. Finally, the mystery of evolution was in their grasp! But no, it was a scam and a sham, a hoax, some call it. I think it was a result of a scientist desperately wanting to go down in the annals of history combined with (perhaps) a sudden panic attack; it struck him that macro-evolution did not exist! So he placed a chimpanzees jaw with a human skull to try cover his pathetic attempts of inventing a sequence of events in history that never happened. He did go down in the history books alright.

I'm no totally against evolution as a whole. Micro-evolution is plausible; Adam and Eve may not necessarily look like the 'modern' man. For all we know, they could be short, dark and very hairy. God never said he created a tall, wavy-haired, aquiline-nosed, waxed, Greek statue. In fact the 'hairy' gene is more dominant than the 'hairless' gene so if God wanted to populate the earth as we know it today, He would have needed some pretty dominant genes to pass through the human race. So in that sense, we as humans did 'evolve' and change to the many races we are today. However, we descended and developed from human genes and did not, as the other theory (macro-evolution) puts it, go through every creature in history (I'm exaggerating) before reaching human 'status.' Fish did not change into frogs. Frogs did not change into queer hairy amphibians, which then developed into little mammals and giant animals to follow. It sounds more like vegetation colonising the earth rather than the amazing revelation of just being human; hydras, reeds, mangroove swamp, etc. Was Darwin vegetarian?

For arguments sake, imagine that in the far, far future we will morph into crinkly, green creatures with big, pupilless, black eyes and holes for ears (taking an X-Files example, although we can see the same effects in someone on a ship, sea-sick, dehydrated and blacked out due to a pub brawl, which proves that what humans deem aliens is only a representation of the worse they see in themselves). If I ask,
"Why aren't we showing sypmtoms of turning into this alien race?" they will answer,
"Because only one species can survive at a time." If so, how then will we ever make that transition into a more dominant species? We either realise we are changing and ultimately change or we just change overnight. You can't proceed on without having something to start off with. Following macro-evolution's theory, you can't have a frog if the fish didn't slowly change into it. If we all did chnage overnight, I doubt many scientists would back it up as evolution.
"Woo hoo! We are the next species!"

It is easier to sink into depravity than to strive for holiness.

It is easier for people to believe that they came from animals so as to justify their immorality as 'natural instinct.' For example, to explain away a man's infidelity, silly people with doctorates that mean nothing might say that it is innate for a man to want to plant his seed. Which animal they refer to when they mention that theory, is something I would really like to know. Lions, elephants, frogs... fine, that's what they do. But then, they are eliminating the possibility (although we clearly know there isn't any) that we might have descended from wolves or geese, both which do the whole 'til death do we part' thing. Then they will say,
"Oh no, that's not what we meant. We all evolve from different cells to from different creatures so we have nothing to do with lions or wolves." If so, than how can you refer to an animal, point and say,
"It is innate for man..."

Seriously, creation is so much easier to believe.

I have half an hour to get to Tax tutorial so I will continue this conversation when I'm less hyped-up and can think more clearly and am not enraged by pathetic claims that try hide the fact we are all fallen human beings who need to be rescued with silly fish theories.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Plans for Thanksgiving Day

So, I have emptied my hotmail box of junk and excess mail, finished my shift for the day, had a chicken and sweetcorn sandwich for lunch and am going home to prepare a musaka baked in a pumpkin shell. What next?

I have decided that all my efforts of roasting turkey and baking pumpkin pies should be put to good use and enjoyed on the day that turkey and pumpkin were made to be eaten together - Thanksgiving Day. I have vaguely calculated my American and honarary American guests and I think a 4kg turkey should be sufficient. Do remember that although the turkey is the main course, it shall be served with potatoes, trimmings, gravy, hopefully cranberry sauce, baked yams and of course, pumpkin pie. Yum. It shall be a feast to remember and a feast to cook. I wonder if guests will be willing to participate in a dress up; gothic fat turkeys a la The Adam's Family...

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Too eager

I rose at... 6.35AM!!!! YES (it can be done)!!!!!! Had chicken curry out of a tin (yup, curry for breakfast), a flapjack (there's always room for dessert) and a cup of tea and sat down to study Trusts. Several pages of Hayton, Penner and taking notes later, the usual morning routine of shower, change and run commenced. I arrived 5E for Tax beaming, until I realised there wasn't a soul in the room. Uh-oh. Did I get the wrong room? Quick, check the timetable... no, right room. However, after more careful observation of my timetable, I realised that I had arrived too early. An hour early - that's what. Ahh, there is such a thing as being too eager. I shall be working later in Waterloo - I think I need to put more hours into it so as to boost up my funding. Might try pencil my name in for a few more hours next week as it is reading week. Reading week! It seemed like yesterday when reading week was aeons away. Oh well, I have homework due in so it's not going to be a do-nothing-and-sleep week.

Besides work, homework and church activities, I need to get Alex in to put up brackets for my bookshelves. I initially wanted bricks and actually went to lengths to find out how many bricks/ the best type of brick I needed. Dense block, dense block with hole, dense block with 2 holes, red brick, grey brick, charcoal blocks, bricks that can be painted, bricks that can't... quite interesting stuff really. Thing is, the bricks I needed/ chose would have cost me about 12 pounds altogether and weighed about 15kg each. Would I rather get someone to come in to fix brackets for me for free and wait a while longer or be an impatient I-want-it-now(!) person and pay up and wonder what to do with them later? I chose the former (and chose to wait - it is always good to cultivate patience) and I hope that in a week's time, I'll get my desired bookshelves.

Sarah, Elena and I have taken down the previous tenants' poster of three fingered, jaundice-inflicted people (The Simpsons) and put up a far better poster (subjective) of a mother elephant and her calf.

I did another sily thing this week. I was so fed-up with my skin peeling around my nose/ T-zone/ chin area that I impulsively (can anything good come out of a masochist with impulsive tendencies?) grabbed my nail buffer and buffed my skin away. I can tell you that it hurt. But I just gritted my teeth and imagined all the little flakes of dead skin running for their lives. Here comes the buffer! After my stint of madness, I tried to cover the corpses (of flakes) with moisturiser and ooooh, it really hurt. It was like having (mild) acid poured onto my face. How do I know how it feels like to have acid on the skin? Cos back in 4th form, I poured acid on my hand just to see how it felt like. It wasn't the strongest of acids so I don't have a scar like Edward Norton does in Fight Club but it was inconvenient enough for the feeling to etch itself in memory forever.

The 8 rules of Fight Club;
1. You do not talk about Fight Club
2. You DO NOT talk about Fight Club
3. If someone taps/ faints etc, the fight is over
4. Only 2 men to a fight
5. Only one fight at the time
6. No shoes or shirts on during the fight
7. The fight lasts for as long as it has to
8. If you're new to Fight Club, you have to fight

And on that note, I'm off to Tax law.

Time and issues

"I have to be more efficient!"
I mumble to myself
as I stumble out of bed.
"More efficient!"
as I wash my sleepy head.
"More efficient!"
dragging my feet
to pay the bills,
"More efficient!"
as I try to sleep
between meals.
"More efficient!"
as I check my bank balance,
"More efficient!"
as I blank into a trance.
"More efficient!"
as I yawn AGAIN in class (how infruriating),
"More efficient!"
as I try and catch a bus.
"More efficient!"
even though everything seems wrong,
"More efficient!"
when the day extends too long.
"More efficient!"
when I try to share Good News,
"More efficient!"
It's not up to me to choose.
"More efficient!"
I should try to make me better,
"More efficient!"
Should I follow by the letter?
"More efficient!"
as the rebel in me grows,
"More efficient!"
where do my priorities go?
"More efficient!"
Perhaps it's just a verse,
"More efficient!"
Could it also be a curse?

I made the above up spontaneously and even now I cringe at the word spontaneous because it implies impulsiveness, which is not discipline. I guess on one hand it's easy to look at the lives of other people and marvel at their efficiency; they do things you wish you had time to do. I don't know... more efficient, less efficient. Probably nothing wrong being efficient, until one takes the meaning of efficient to the extreme and commits it to every fine detail in life until the more important things lose their importance and are forced to make way for 'efficiency.' At such a point, is that life efficient anymore?

I have decided to join the CU small group on Monday nights at Tara's. At the moment, I am perhaps doing this albeit grudgingly but maybe a few more well-placed activities will help me focus on the time I have and use it productively. I woke up this morning to discover that I was overdrawn. That has never happened to me before and I hope, will never happen again. A few calls later and I managed to transfer some money from X to Y and am no longer overdrawn but it has jarred a few things in my system. One cannot be too careful with monetary arrangements. My accounts will be even more heavily scutinised from now on. No more random shopping spree in Argos or Brixton.

I supposed that I would go to Compelled by Love, evangelistic training at All Souls. However, as I did not book my place in time, I shall have to forgo that pleasure. On one hand I am annoyed, on the other, relieved that I will not have to dig deeper into my pockets.

Time to go to Tara's.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

The meaning behind...

I managed to get my visa extension yesterday - took about 5 hours minus the trip to Croydon and back but it was worth it for two reasons. Firstly, I will not need to bother about visa extensions for the next 2 years and secondly, I finally managed to find time to read The Case for Christ (Lee Strobbel). From it, I discovered, among other things, that the word 'excruciating' comes from the phrase 'out of the cross.' As my split finger is no where near the agonizing pain experienced by those who were executed through crucifixion, I withdraw my claim to excruciating pain.

I set off for Croydon with only an inkling of where I was supposed to go to. Sure I had to darken the doors of Lunar House last year but I had no expectations of retaining memory to my one off visit. I stopped at East Croyden station and made a split second decision to walk up the ramp and find out whether my memory had taken me to the right place. My eyes travelled along walls and posters taking in information and trying to remember... and then I knew I was in the right place. A huge sign hanging on the wall said, "Welcome to Croydon the Home of Nestle." Nestle - chocolate. Yup, this was the place. However, I wanted more confirmation. I exited the station and found a road sign that pointed the way to Beckenham. Bingo, another point! I remembered thinking that the place sounded like David Beckingham. I found Lunar House in no time and proceeded to line up.

I need to buy things off the net now so tata.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Excruciating pain

I slit my index finger (to the bone) while opening a tin of cornbeef with a fork. After a fairly considerable time, I thought it would be wise to try stop the bleeding but the blood just continued pouring out. didn't want to wake my housemates up so i wrapped my punctured finger is tissue and continued making breakfast. When I heard Sarah get up, I thought it would be a good time to get a second opinion. So I took te wrapping off and briefly thought that my right index finger and left index finger looked slightly different in terms of both colour and shape. Sarah suggested going to see the doctor to which I recoiled. I've never had a stitch on this ickle body even when I sliced half my finger off with a paper cutter when I was a teen and I wasn't about to give in just yet. After a while longer, blood stopped running to my finger - I put it down to fibroginosis etc etc - and I could take a sneak peek into what my finger looked like inside. I looked just about pry apart my skin from the ligamen and could make out a hollow cavity not unlike chicken when I'm stuffing it with butter. I even wondered if I could perform minor liposuction on my finger; after all, there was a hole there already, the hardest part was through. But Sarah (and by this time, Elena) both decided they needed to take charge and insisted I put antiseptic on. It hurt. Very much. I then plastered my finger with an inch and a half long plaster which immobiled my finger. It has been two days now and things like washing one's hair, holding a pencil/ pen and other such things are an absolute chore. I can't even type without flattening other keys as well so right now I'm reduced to typing with my third finger on my right hand - I only use 2 fingers to type. The pain has subsided to the point where I temporarily forgot that I am badly cut and in the duration it took me to change my plaster, I managed to aggravate it again.

Christmas is 9 weeks away, Fern and Philip informed me over This Morning (daytime programme) and I still haven't decided whether I want to go home or not. Should I go to Germany to spend time with Ben or stay in London with the Grinch or to Cardiff to see reindeer or what? When should I start sending out Christmas cards? When should I start making my 'Who's naughty and nice' list? How much should I spend? Should I buy useless presents like an ice-cream maker or sensible socks with the Simpsons on them? Can someone buy me a dog? Or a horse? Or a picture of an animal? Preferably a large mammal - not feline or equine as I have too many of those. JOKING. Sheesh, man.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Christmas presents

I have been shopping online - the new age of retail therapy. Among other things I have considered purchasing either for myself or for my potential Christmas present recipients, include Revlon's nail care kit, chocolate, a handbook on boyfriend training, a smoothie maker, a head massager, posters, more chocolate, books - How To Speak Dog, the Book of Bunny Suicides and Classic 007 quotes - an 8-knife set series 11300, Hinari style men's grooming pack, Shrek 2 and etc.

It's time I headed home for my cornbeef and rice dinner withe the very strong possibility of a king size snicker bar on the way to the bus stop. Tomorrow morning I'll be off to Croydon to start a two day process of my visa application. I might take either Animal Husbandry or Robinson Crusoe (or both) along. But maybe I should take along something more substantial... like my Trusts textbook.

Jingle Bells

It's never too late to celebrate Christmas and it's definitely never too early. Sarah, Elena and I were chatting about our prospective Christmas party, fully equipped with stockings for the 3 of us, popcorn tinsel, crepe paper and lots of presents. I need to buy more Christmas wrapping even though I have 3 rolls in the cupcoard somewhere. There's the whole "Should I go home for Christmas this year?" debate going on in my head. On one hand, my bro's birthday and Christmas are more or less within the same season and I have not been home for Christmas in the last... 4 years? On the other hand... I don't know. Maybe it's the strangeness of not watching the Grinch at 4pm while indulging in a tuna sandwich that prevents me from confirming my decision to go home.

I have 10 minutes more of break, 10 of which I have already spent eating 2 chocolate bars, a sausage delight sandwich and typing. Will get back after my shift, which ends at 4 today. I will be scouring for boxes to put my presents in and browsing shop windows and catalogues as Christmas jingles down the bend.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Gullible Debbie

Friday night. I was on my way to Victoria's dinner party when a most tragic thing happened - my phone smahed on the pavement. "And how did this happen?" one might ask. I was standing at the traffic lights and pressed the little button with my finger on my right hand to summon the green man but instead of lifting my finger from the button, my brain told my LEFT hand to let go of whatever was in its possession. That happened to be my mobile. Gone. Smitherins. Despite it all, I enjoyed Vic's party very much except for the brief moment when a certain Barney (as in the purple dinosaur but really his name was Barnabas) kissed me on the cheek. All I did was ask for his name again because in the muddle of things, my hearing was slight blurred and so I tapped my ear to indicate that I had failed to catch his name. I expected an answer to a question and got in return something rather unexpected. I froze, as I do and said or shrieked, "What was that for? I asked for your name!" Ahhh... suddenly his face cleared and he recognised the fact that I was not some crazy person asking for random kisses from blatant strangers *shudder.*

Watched Bridget Jones' Diary when I arrived home from the party to cheer myself up over my broken phone. I know this sounds stupid and very unlike me (or maybe very like me, only not the me most of you might know, if that makes any sense) but Colin Firth is yummy. Brown, curly hair is the way to go. Even better when coupled with a melancholic air of near arrogance and long winter coat. Unfortunately, people like that are only good to watch and not very good to be involved with.

Saturday. I had Homework Helpers in the morning (and what I'm about to tell you is very exciting stuff) and I discovered that my tutee is undertaking a study of the book of Luke as his Religious Education for the year. God works in mysterious ways. I was about to tell the mother that I was not sure if I could spend the time with her children after all (and feel rubbish about it afterwards) but after this bit of news, I can't wait to go back next week. Obviously, he'll expect my help in other subjects like Science and English too but I just think that this is such a wonderful opportunity. He also told me that he had never heard about the Christian message before he had to study it at GCSE although he knew that there was a guy called Jesus. The message at St Helens today was about God spreading the gospel through us, his chosen people and I feel so privileged to be part of that.

Homework Helpers ended, I made my way to the Strand where I got myself a new phone. Don't worry folks, the number's still the same but now I have a blue screen, caller ID and Vivaldi's Winter movement of the Four Seasons Concerto - I learn so much living with a music student. I was only supposed to spend X but I spent X, Y and Z because I was naive and thought that the salesman was sooo nice and charming that I should just oblige him and buy loads of side orders, which cost quite a bit. So it is true. A year at Uni and I still get swept away by charming salesmen. What on earth am I learning at Uni??!!?? *Sigh* I really should be more hard-nosed. Those are the moments I find, when I feel I should tighten my grip on reality and lose all namby-pamby notions of romantic ideals and sweet talking gentlemen.

My purchase was followed by a trip to Daniel's place with Sarah, where we got lost - again - and went round and round in circles before finding our way out of a mad maze and into the street where Daniel lived.

Rushed home to wash my hair and preened myself for Daryl's party. Was late but so were a few others and Sonia so patiently waited for us latecomers whilst the earlier party moved ahead. Shot some pool at Daryl's and lost by a ball, had scrummy chocolate pancakes, carrots and Bailey's glide for dinner and played a few rounds of Mortal Combat with JP, Daryl and Holty. Too many rounds later, I started saying silly things like, "Repetition breeds perfection," which if I had won, would ring true but seeing as I lost...

Sunday. Woke up at 2pm after knocking mself out at 3am the night/ day (use whatever you will depending on whether you would like to remain politically correct or otherwise) before. Had just enough time to hoover, clear the living room, consume a banana and a bowl of curry instant noodles with an egg and shower before it was time to go to church. And now I sit here type, type, typing away. I have to rise early tomorrow cos I have to be in at 9.30 and I still have reading to do.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Partee!

Yes! The weekend has arrived and I have my social life packed once again from tonight til... and I believe I deserve it, no? I rose at 6am to study Property today because I was determined to know something when/if the tutor called on me but she didn't and I didn't volunteer :) Was reading some Manual book using my bed as a table and a space hopper as a chair. Might as well breathe some life into studying if I have to do it. Had a quarter of a Ham and Pinapple pizza (Adam's leftover dinner) and a bowl of carrot/ onion/ corriander soup for breakfast. I have only just finished a 3-hour shift and am going home to freshen up and then swoosh off to Kensington for Victoria's birthday. Tomorrow morning I have to buy bricks (or maybe the brick-people will be nice and just give me 20 bricks), tutor my 'homework family' at 11 and after that to Daniel's with Sarah to collect necessary nutrition. A few of us will be meeting at 6pm to go to Daryl's where we shall spend hours of good fun (hopefully watching Jurassic Park and eating yogurt and corriander popodums). Sunday will be the usual and my shift on Monday starts at 9.30am. In between I shall have to prepare for Moral Philosophy - I have not one but TWO lots of reading because my scatter brained tutor decided to miss me out in the distribution of notes. I think the possibility of me knowing anything for the next class is quite minute but I shall relish the chance to try anyway.

It has been a hectic 2 weeks; my brain creaked into action, my internal alarm was murdered and revived (I'm starting to think I might be a morning person after all) and my sensors had to get used to the feel of unfamiliar books, unfamiliar sights and smells... but I think they're pretty settled now and after a round or two of syrup expresso shots, I might be able to produce adrenaline at will, constantly. I made my first latte today so there's more reason to celebrate and I have been eyeing a certain expresso machine should anyone consider an appropriate Christmas present. I have begun my collection of boxes to stuff my presents in and my tiny room will look even tinier still. That said, I need to dash if I am to arrive at Vic's presentable and birthday-ish looking.

Rush Hour 3

The story of my life.

Although it's only been a day between this and my last blog, I feel as though time slowed down and I was caught in a brief suspension between this world and the world of yesterday - hazy memories floating like jellyfish, as though I've aged considerably since Wednesday (and in some ways, I have... by a day and a half) or cracked my skull too hard on my law books (as if) and am currently suffering from amnesia. It has been cold. Too cold. Francois happily announced to me that this winter shall be the coldest winter yet in a very long time and that it would start late October, missing autumn altogether. I think he needs to enhance his powers of observation as he asked me if I was cold whilst I was blue in the face, trying to don neon mittens, a jacket and a heavy winter coat while some people are still waltzing about in skimpy summer outfits - hey, it aint my skin that's gonna lose all sense of touch whe we're octogenarians.

Cold hands, cold feet and legs drapped in clashing coloured socks, all snug and warm with a hot water bottle under my jumper... that's what I like best about winter. If only I had a dog... or a cat.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Seize the moment

I'm on my break from working at the Student Union and with a chicken/ bacon sandwich in my digestive tract, the engines are running and I can feel energy surging, if not only momentarily, through my system. Michael (the) Champion - although I would prefer my champion to be my late dog, Buck, who I dreamt about last night - is sitting next to me without realising that I am writing about him. Pink and white striped shirt, tartan tie and... red socks. That's KCLSU's president for you (not to mention body language oozing with arrogant confidence), unless my eyes deceive me and I'm not looking at the good man himself. I wonder (and not for the first time) if I could pass for a spy.

RML tonight but before that work finishes at 3, after which I have to dash to the Strand to ensure the 2 weeks worth of Moral Philosophy notes owed me by a certain Stanton-Ife. I also need an ATHENS password from the Maughan Library to help me get into Westlaw and Lexis to read cases which my beloved coursemates have all done. At 4 I have to meet up with Kate for the audio/ visual thing for Only One life, which I am still not-so-eagerly anticipating. But the challenge breeds adrenaline and right now, I need all the adrenaline my glands can produce to get me through.

Much prayer is needed all around. I will email those I have yet to reply to and shall not send anymore emails to people who tire of receiving them. A CU freshers' dinner at EDS to organise, a make-shift bookcase to make, bills to sort (although Elena does quite a good job doing that), a headache to cure, the doctor to unload, the chemist to reload... I think I need to go cos my break is over.

Monday, October 11, 2004

A londoner?

The weekend has been busy as usual.

Saturday: Went to see my 'family' as I will be their homework helper for as long as I can. My tutees are a 10 year old boy to whom I had to try explain fertilization during our first session - more embarrassing for me than him - and a 16-year old GCSE student. This might be a good opportunity for me to brush up on Chemistry and Biology, not to mention having the chance to share the gospel to him as he is also taking up Religious Education.

A trip to Brixton for affordable retail therapy followed suit. I bought bubble bath from Imperial Lather, heel grips and 5 books; Bridget Jones' Diary, Survival of the Elephants, White Dragon, Chocolate Therapy and Michael Crichton's Terminal Man (I think? It had 'terminal' in it for sure, but whether man followed after, I have yet to confirm). Went to Tesco for lightbulbs and bananas and watched the X-factor with housemates in the evening while Elena made tiger cake.

Sunday: Cleaned the bathrooms - my designated duty for the week, did some reading, talked to my parents and brother, digested some tiger cake, went for Homework Helpers' training and St Helens afterwards.

I will try get some brickes this week to create a makeshift multi-storey bookshelf as I need more space and since my room is so small, the only way I can go is up. Will post a birthday card to my dad after this then go for my 1-2-1. I try get up by 8.30am latest when I don't have to get up til 12 noon and when I need to be in college by 9, 7.30am it is or 7 if I choose to walk.

Over the weekend, I was told, on 3 separate occasions, 3 different things that seemed fairly consistent and pointed towards a need for me to slow down. I was told, not in any particular order, that I was spending too much time in other people's worlds and not enough in my own, that I was worried the world would catch up with me therefore was always in a hurry to be ahead and that I was a typical 'Londoner.' What the last of the three means exactly, I'm not too sure but my guess is the person thinks I am a very busy bee. Something I need to think about? Maybe tonight. But for now, 1-2-1 it is.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Hypochondriac

Although I'm sure I will enjoy Leslie Turano's teaching, in having her as tutor for both my Trusts and property seminars, I feel that it is my duty to attend at least one or the other a week so as to avoid her noticing that I've been away for a whole week. This is not to say that I will only go to one or the other but there is a sense of obligation that beckons even when one is ill. For example, I couldn't attend Tuesday's Trusts because I was down with migraine. Today I planned on going to see the doc to:

Receive prescription for my migraine,
Get my blood tested (becasue I'm sure I'm plagued with some sort of bacterial infection),
Ask for medication to prevent returning back to a state of the flu (my housemates have finally caught my month-long bug and this morning I awoke to find that I felt phlem in my throat - not again!),
Check out my leg/ spine/ anything that would be the probably cause of my having a limp in my right leg for the past 5 days approx.

The surgery (that's 'clinic' for those not in the UK) opens after 10, my seminar starts at 11. There is insufficient funding in the time bank to go to both so I have decided to go to my seminar even if I might collapse due to some mysterious virus yet unknown to man. Since Leslie is my personal tutor as well, I wonder if it would be a good thing to tell her of my slight hypochondriac tendencies. I say 'slight' because I don't think I'm obsessed by health (else I would eat more greens) but I do think I have almost all the symptoms to illnesses described in almost every medical journal I read. Last year I spent so much time browsing the Internet for fascinating facts to line my brain with and opened the door to imagination overload. I thought I had meningitis (briefly) and pressed a glass onto the surface of my skin (a way of detecting meningitis) so hard over and over again that when I thought I could finally see some purple mark signalling the deadly ill that could rob me of life (oooh... drama queen), it was just me bruised black and blue.

So it's off to seminars on equitable rights vs legal rights and flying freeholds and chattels and annexations and otherwise.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

In a little while...

I shall be given Generic training in Tutu's aka a mouthful of health and safety regulations in a bar not best known for cleanliness. The fuzzy headed monster (me) is still... fuzzy headed but I managed to sit through a Tax tutorial and formed a little study group with 4 others, as requested by Mr Wesel. A strong intuition is forming in my brain that suggests I need to drill a hole through my skull to release pressure. Any more pressure on my neuro-capilaries and one would be able to pressure cook rice/ meat/ soup in my grey matter.

Last night I felt ill, hence my absence from RML. Instead Elena and I ordered Indian take-away (mixed vegetable curry and pashwari naan) at 9.15 for 10 to arrive at our door :) - it's the little things in life... Take-away food is so good yet sooo bad, especially after one has just finished off a plate of bacon and onion linguine topped with mild chedder. Yummmm.

Thoughts about events running through my mind at the moment include:
Generic Training
Talk on full time ministry - I'm helping with catering but I want to listen to the talk as well...
Obey Your Thirst
Only One Life - Roger Carswell is preaching this year
Christmas

Have to dash. Gotta go. See you soon.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

5 days notice

This is going to be, in the words of Priss, epic.

I have been away for 5 days - too long by five - and something interesting happened everyday in spite of my being asleep til 4 pm (although not technically, as you will see if you choose to read on) for 2 out of those 5 days. So, throw in 5 days worth of information, a cluttered mind and a woozy head and I'll see what I can rummage around and come up with.

Saturday - Was not feeling well (it is quite strange that not feeling well is nothing out of the ordinary for me for some reason that I do not know except that maybe I do not eat enough green, fibre-like substance known as vegetables). At that point in time, I had spent a week in college; a very minute week it was to be fair, because most seminars and lectures were shortened during the first week and in one instance, the tutor did not even show up. This time last year I was buzzing with excitement. This time round I was fading to the hum drums in my head and found myself needing to sleep but not getting enough. 'Enough' meaning at least 8 hours, which is the bare minimum for me, 10 is my norm. But I rose at 7.30am anyway to sort my laundry. Then I went back to sleep. At 11.30 I pushed myself out of bed again to hang the laundry. 75% into my laundry, the sky decided to let loose so I had to bring it all in and hang it on chairs and bits of wire; I cannot for the life of me recollect their proper technical term. Went back to sleep. Woke up at 4. I had Carly's belated birthday dinner to attend. What not to wear. Peered out into the sky and picked up the nearest umbrella to me just before I left, which if you read on my dear reader, will find that it became my undoing, so to speak. Popped round Joe's to see if he, Sean and Tara were going anytime soon and met his mum cos they were all having dinner together. We're going to ride horses one day although we have yet to set out a date. I'm sure there's tonnes she can teach me. Oh... lovely horses, they smell so good, they smell so fine...
Carly's party. Helped make pizzas, slice mushrooms, clear tables etc etc although it must be said that Carly, Daniel and Lauren all put it together quite well. I bought Carly a belly button ring; very very pretty, if I dare say so myself, with blue crystals and about an inch long. Halfway through I thought I caught a whiff of Daniel - Bold washing powder - but Chris Dudley was standing in front of me, confusing my senses even more. Then it hit me that perhaps Chris used Bold washing powder as well.

Time to go home. It was raining pretty heavily and Holty and I had to catch the tube. I suddenly realised that the umbrella I had brought with me was Holty's cos he had left it at his ex place, which is now my place. Therefore, when we parted to the Jubilee and Northern line respectively, he took his umbrella with him, leaving me to wonder at the possibility of the rain stopping just long enough for me to run from the station back home. No such luck. If anything, the rain the rain came down with a vengeance just as I stepped out of the shelter of the station. Great. What else was there to do but start the arduous journey home. On one hand I was muttering to myself that chilvary was dead in this world but on the other hand, it was his umbrella. Walking down the last stretch of road on my way home, Matt Redman's 'So good to be loved by you' came floating into my mind. One verse stood out at that point in time, "You give me hope like the spring rain." Oh yeah, bucketloads of hope to wash this cynic's pessimistic behaviour out to Timbuktu, which I will have you know, is an actual place in Africa. Hope. So fragile, so necessary. So needed.

Walked through my front door dripping like a wet hen. I say 'wet hen' because unlike ducks, hens' feathers absorb water so they're more apt to be absolutely drenched. I also say hen becasue hens do not like being wet and they appear quite miserable, although one exception to this duck-hen rule would be Mr Scrooge McDuck, who is a duck but looks miserable anyway. Dripped off, settled into warm snuggly clothes, then dozed off. Woke up at 8am the next day. Was supposed to help Sam with Sunday school but something in my head told me my upchuck reflexes (courtesy of 10 Things I Hate About You) were particularly sensitive and that I had temporarily become one of those products which state, 'Keep away from children.' So I rang Sam, apologised and went back to doozyland.

Monday - we're getting there folks! Had my one-to-one with Sophie during which she suggested, to my horror, that I should appear on an audio/ visual presentation for Only One Life to give a 'top-tip' for evangelism. I was clearly sufficiently horrified and right now that is a grey area. What should I do should she ask me again? Had my first Moral Philosophy seminar as well and I can see that this is going to be a subject of intense debate, where I will probably find a comfortable seat, sit in the corner, sponge everything in, go home and think about it, take down personal notes in my brain and write it out on paper to be taken into exams. Aristotle's Ethics and Plato's Republic are among some of the very interesting books I hope to finish reading. Monday night. Should I go to the Law party or trek up to Mile End to collect my Tax law books off Holty, which I really needed? So many questions (the Riddler, Batman Forever; one of my favourite films ever). It took me the whole day to decide. Pros and cons; would I really miss out not going to a party? How desperate was I for those books? Did I want to sort my books out now or could it wait until tomorrow? What would I do at the party?

In the end, I gave Holty a ring and arranged to meet at 9.30am the next day and off to the party I went. Gold dress, blue shoes and purple shawl - and they did match. While at the party, I got some excercise, got to know a few more people and persuaded some freshers that they needed my books. I had long decided before that I was going to leave at 1.30am at the latest and was not going to repeat last year's 3.30am. I left at 12.30 and was in bed by 2.30 after a bowl of instant chicken noodles and a good book.

Tuesday was rush day. After 5 and a half hours sleep, barely enough time to get into dreaming, I had to awake to get to Bank to get my books. Rushed to Bank, waited 15 minutes, got my books and rushed to a bus stop. Waited for half an hour. The 133 had decided to detour that day and I was too immersed in Tax Law to notice. So I had to rush for another bus to catch the 133 on London Bridge. An onslaught of migraine had started to appear the night before and yesterday it reached a crescendo. I quickly emailed my tutor to say I couldn't make it (feeling rubbish doing so because it was my first Trusts seminar and even worse when I discovered that she was my personal tutor as well) and tried to calm my aching head down. About 2 I decided I was feeling slightly better and so went in to work at the Student Union shop for 2.30 until 4 and then I rushed to my Property lecture across the road. Property done, I decided that I was hungry enough to eat so made a move towards International Cafe but stopped to chat to Hazel on the way. When I finally arrived, I discovered that I had missed Sean's testimoney by two minutes but the scones were still there. Took my notepad out to get email adds and one from a certain Albert Joosse threw me off guard. Joose? Juse? Juice? It turned out to be Yow-se and that's NOT 'yowser' as in the expression.

Debating followed after and I snuck out of the door after the last speaker sat down and missed the floor speeches, which are more often than not (although there are exceptions to the rule) wannabe debators who think they can do as well. There is a difference between knowing and thinking. CU was just around the corner and I managed to grab a Twix and a handful of crisps before sitting down. Halfway through singing I felt my head exploding internally and had half a mind (and I really think that I only had half a mind then) to tell Sarah or Elena that I was going home. But I stopped myself because I had promised this guy called David (fresher, religion+philosophy from (?)Bassingstoke) that I would talk to him after CU. So I stuck it out. Pain in the offering (imagine saying that in a very dry and wry manner). Home or not quite. I stopped for Chinese and then we all stopped by the chippy and had our fill back home.

Today I am still, surprise, surprise, unwell. I again have half a mind to go to a doctor but what am I supposed to say? I get tired all the time? I like to sleep? I get erratic migraines? Do you think I have chronic fatigue? I think I'm ill but I don't know what? I have generic training tomorrow - some health and safety instructions ladida and I need to get stuck into my reading. I need to get Peter Singer's book on Ethics and have to ask the law faculty for my ATHENS password and username that I never knew I needed til now but for today, rest and more rest is what I am opting for. Maybe a trip to Tesco and a budget review will be on the books as well.

Now I need to send a few emails, encourage a few people, enquire after various issues and drink more water. That's 5 days notice for you and that did not even include the profound thoughts of little intelligence that I hoo-hum about.

Friday, October 01, 2004

Kingston today

Sold my books yesterday - but not all of them and I gave the fresher who bought my books a 5 pound reduction of the overall price because he didn't bring enough money. Oh well, sometimes we have to be nice in order to ensure that our species will continue to flourish. I also undertook training yesterday at the Waterloo shop and my formal work begins next Tuesday; stocking, pricing, retail stuff, seling tickets, clearing tables, making coffee are all in the job description. So that's a neat little bundle to help my transport fees along.

Will be going to Kingston in half and hours time with Elena to get her bike for me to use, her book, Ethics for me to read for Moral Philosophy and fabric paint for me to play around with. a little trip somewhere after a hard week's work. The funny thing is that the past week, although seemingly tough and nerve wrecking, is only the beginning. maybe things will get easier once I've eased myself back into Uni 24/7 activity mode. I need to buy books off Holty and might browse Amazon for other Moral Philosophy books I'll need this year. My Tax tutor looks like a younger, blonder Cliff Richard and he (sort of) put Moral Phiklosophy down as one of the less useful law subjects (paraphrasing) so I'm not too sure whether I like him or not. He asked the class why we took Tax and we had to give personal answers. Most people went to great lengths to explain in breadth and depth that they worked in a bank/ law firm over the summer and spoke to many great and intelligent people who told them this and that and that's why they were sitting there. Ooooh.... people like that grate on my already raw tipped nerves. I'm not sure whether they're genuinely so caught up in their airy fairy world of 'I want to be a kick-butt lawyer' or whether they just wanted to make a good first impression on the teacher. From a survey I carried out, first impressions are only 41% correct and even then, personalities change. I honestly speaking, have no idea why I'm taking tax, other than the fact that it was recommended by Monica, I thought I would be taught by her and I knew people who were going to do the course and knew people who did the course so that I could get second hand books off them without working too hard.

It's almost one, I have to scoot cos I need to quickly glance through Amazon and then rush to Waterloo station to meet Elena. So til I see you.